She stared up at him, an expression of wonder in her eyes, and then she smiled and it was as if a lamp had been turned on inside. She reached up and touched his face once, then ran through the rain across the yard to the porch.

17

The pale green walls of the Interrogation Room seemed to swim out of the shadows caused by the strong central light hanging above the table at which sat Charles Edward Foster, head in hands, his entire body one great ache.

Nick stood at the window and looked into the deserted rainswept street outside. His cheek throbbed painfully and he gingerly prodded the broad strip of sticking plaster with a finger end.

It was a little after two-fifteen. He yawned, took out a crumpled packet of cigarettes and extracted the last one. He was in the act of lighting it when the Duty Inspector entered.

‘I’ve filled in the charge sheet for you.’

‘I’ll remember you in my will.’

‘I think your next move should be to the Infirmary. That’s a nasty cut you’ve got there. Probably needs a stitch or two.’

Foster raised his head. ‘Never mind that bastard. What about me? I need a doctor if anyone does after what he did. Just wait till my solicitor gets here.’

‘And just what did he do to you, Charlie?’ Superintendent Grant said from the doorway.

Foster contrived an expression that was a mixture of innocent mystification and hurt dignity. ‘Kicked me in the crutch, he did, Mr Grant. You’ve got a right one here, I can tell you.’

The Inspector handed the charge sheet to Grant without a word.

‘Presumably this little lot has got nothing to do with the case at all?’

Grant walked across to a side table on which were laid neatly the iron bar, bone-handled razor and length of bicycle chain which had been left on the scene of battle by Foster’s friends.

Foster lapsed into sullen silence and Grant looked enquiringly at Nick. ‘All right, are you?’

‘He needs a few stitches in that face, if you ask me, sir,’ the Duty Inspector put in.

Grant nodded. ‘Have somebody take this cowboy downstairs will you, Jack? I’ll have a word with him later.’

The Inspector nodded, took Foster by the arm and led him out. Grant sat on the edge of the table and lit his pipe.

‘You’ve heard about Brady?’

‘When I brought Foster in. What happened exactly?’