Temple visits the Blandford

The Blandford car park was relatively empty but instead of going there, Temple parked the squad car two side-streets away. Walking through the car park, he scrutinised the various cars but did not recognise any of the number-plates. He did notice, however, that several of the cars were new and expensive. How, in this austere post-war time people had the money to buy Jags and Wolsey's, he could not guess. They were either born to money or, more likely, had made it in crooked dealings. Ever the cynic, he entered the lounge bar. There were more people inside than on the previous occasion when he had been with Cantwell.

He ordered a pint and sandwich from the bar. As he was paying, he glanced up at the mirror behind the bar, it gave a good view of the other customers. Temple scanned various faces but saw no one he recognised. The majority there were well-heeled and not afraid to show it.

Taking his drink and the large ham sandwich, the barman had given him, he sat down at a table in the far corner. From there, he had a clear view of everyone who came or went.

From what he could see, Temple guessed that most of the people were hotel residents and new to the area. There were a few Starmouth people and the noisiest group seemed to be members of the local hunt.

After about twenty minutes, Judith Jackson came in. She stood in the entrance looking round the clientele with her large brown eyes taking in every detail. She spotted Temple and nodded. She then crossed over to the bar and had a confidential chat with the barman. As on the previous time, she worked the room, smiling and chatting inconsequentially. The men enjoyed the attention, the women also responded well to her flattery. 'Quite the consummate performer', Temple thought. She left him until last.

"How nice to see you again. I don't think I caught your name, last time, Mr ...?"

"Detective Inspector Temple."

"Oh! The police!" She smiled and nodded, as if pleased with the knowledge. "We know Superintendent Baker very well. He often comes here with his delightful wife. But it's rare for one of his underlings to visit us."

The emphasis on the 'underlings' was said with a meaningful smile, 'Oh, she's good,' Temple thought, 'Very good indeed.'

Though he nodded, he did not respond to her comment. There was a moment's silence, then she leaned forward and sat down on the chair next to him. She whispered quietly:
"May I ask - are you looking for someone or is this strictly a lunchtime treat, an off-duty call?"

"I'm never really off-duty, Mrs Jackson. But, on the other hand, I'm not exactly looking for anything or anyone in particular."

"Oh! You know my name, Inspector. You are well in formed." She paused, the forced smile beginning to wear rather thin. "I'm not sure how good it is for business to have the police here at the bar." She gave a nervous laugh.

"But no one, apart from you, knows I am the police, as you put it. I'm not broadcasting the fact and I'm sure that you wouldn't."

"Of course not." She put her hand flirtatiously on his arm. "I would not want to jeopardise any investigation you might be doing."

"Seriously, Mrs Jackson, I am just here for a quiet pint and bite to eat." She gave him a sideways glance. "You surely would not grudge me a moment's calm in a busy day.

"Of course not, Inspector. Do forgive me. I read too many crime stories, I suppose." She rose from the seat, putting her hand to her hair and smiling again. "I'll leave you in peace.."

She returned to the bar and spoke once again to the barman. Some minute or two later a pint of beer was on its way to Temple.

"With Madam's compliments, sir." The barman said placing it on the table.

Outside in the lobby, however, Judith Jackson felt far from complimentary. The encounter had left her agitated and irritated. She went immediately to her husband's office.

"We've got the ruddy police sitting in the bar."

WingCo looked up from some paperwork:
"What, Baker?"

"No! Some jumped-up little berk who says he's an inspector."

"So what's the problem?"

"The problem is that we don't need coppers round here at the moment. Or have you forgotten about Ellacott?" Remember the name 'Redbourne', do you? Recall events of the last two weeks?"

WingCo straightened up and peered at his wife:
"There's absolutely nothing to connect us to any of the goings on, nothing at all. Even if Redbourne walked in here now, complete with one of his dodgy dogs, there's no one could connect us. He's just another patron. Just you remember that."

Judith Jackson sat down heavily on one of the high back chairs:
"Yes, that maybe so. But what's he doing here?"

"What does he say he's doing.?"

"Here for a quiet drink, so he says."

"Well, take it at face value, Judy. Don't do anything to encourage him. But, on the other hand, don't do anything to discourage him. Just act natural, as if you've nothing to hide. You're bloody good at that sort of thing, old girl."

Temple finished his second pint then headed out to where he had parked the squad car. As he did so, Dr McBride drove in. The timing, from Temple's point of view, could not have been better. He made a show of recognising McBride, then gave an ostentatious wave, before walking out into the street.