Reginald Hill - Under World

He returned to the bedside.

‘We’ll see about breakfast after the quack’s checked you over,’ he said.

‘I’m not hungry,’ said Farr.

A nurse came in, shook a thermometer and put it in Farr’s mouth. While it was still there, a white-coated Asian doctor appeared and examined the chart at the foot of the bed. The nurse removed the thermometer and showed it to the doctor who gave her the chart to make an entry, then approached Farr and shone a pencil light into his eyes.

‘Any pain?’ he asked.

‘Bit of a headache.’

‘You shouldn’t drink so much. Follow my finger with your eyes. Good.’

He pulled back the sheet and probed and prodded at shoulders, chest and legs.

‘India rubber and iron by the feel of you,’ he said.

‘Does that mean he can be shifted?’ said the constable hopefully.

‘Shifted? Why?’

‘We’re keen to question him.’

‘I’m keen to keep him alive. You’ll have to ask your questions here under strict medical supervision. Liquid diet, Nurse. And that doesn’t mean more beer, Mr Farr. I’ll see you later.’

‘Bloody foreigner,’ said the constable. ‘Still thinks we use rubber truncheons. Nurse, can I have the phone?’

The nurse wheeled in a mobile phone and the policeman rang Burrthorpe and reported the situation.

‘Anyone been asking after me?’ said Farr to the nurse.

‘Your mam came up in the night and saw you sleeping. I think she’s been on the phone this morning, but I don’t know about anyone else.’

The constable finished his conversation and replaced the receiver.

‘Can I use that?’ asked Farr.

‘No way, sunshine. Who do you want to ring, BUPA?’

‘What about visitors? Can I have visitors?’

Now the policeman laughed.

‘You’ll have visitors all right,’ he said. ‘But don’t expect many grapes.’

The first visitor was Detective Chief Inspector Alex Wishart. Though grapeless, he at least started conventionally, inquiring after Farr’s health. But when the young man replied equally conventionally that he was all right, Wishart moved smoothly into his proper role, saying, ‘Fit enough to answer a few questions, then?’

In the corner Detective-Constable Collaboy was taking notes. The uniformed constable whom Wishart addressed as Vessey had been dispatched to enjoy a cup of tea. It would be easy lying here in a warm comfortable bed listening to this soft-spoken courteous Scot to forget what was going on.

‘So you felt unwell and you told Neil Wardle you were going to leave. And he said …’

‘He told me to be sure to let Satterthwaite know.’

‘Why Satterthwaite?’

‘He were the deputy in charge of that section.’

‘Fair enough. And was that all that Wardle said to you?’

‘I can’t recall owt else.’

‘Didn’t he say something like, “And be careful, Col. No bother, no matter what he says”?’

Farr put his hand to his head and said slowly, ‘He said, “If the bugger says anything, tell him you don’t want any bother and will he take it up with the Union.”’

‘You see. You remember very precisely when you try.’

‘More than you do from the sound of it,’ said Farr.

‘Why did Mr Wardle think it necessary to make this warning?’ asked Wishart.

‘Deputies don’t like men going off in the middle of shift,’ said Farr.

‘Is that all?’

‘No, but it’s an important part of it and I’d like to be sure your girl’s got it down.’

Collaboy looked up angrily and Wishart said, ‘It’s all right, Constable. Miners’ humour. The trick is not to bite, isn’t that so, Mr Farr?’

‘The trick is knowing when it’s meant,’ said Farr.

‘I see. To resume: accepting that there might be an irritated reaction from a deputy as part of a general principle, what particular reaction or interaction between you and Satterthwaite was Wardle warning you against?’

‘Am I supposed to understand all that?’ mocked Farr. ‘And me just a poor working lad.’

‘Me too,’ smiled Wishart.’ Shall we both play stupid or would you rather develop the role alone?’

Farr nodded, not in response but at some judgement of his own.

‘Harold Satterthwaite didn’t like me and I didn’t like him,’ he said. ‘There was likely to be trouble most times we met. Just verbal, though it had come close to blows odd times. That’s what Neil were getting at.’

‘Any particular reasons for this friction?’

‘Mebbe, but I think they were almost as much effect as cause. When you got down to it, we just naturally hated each other’s guts.’

‘That’s very frank of you, Mr Farr.’

‘No point in lying about what every big mouth in Burrthorpe knows. But it doesn’t matter anyway as I never saw the sod on my way outbye.’

‘Did you look for him?’

‘Not very hard. I just wanted to get out.’

‘Did you ask anyone if they’d seen him?’

Farr smiled. He looked not much older than seventeen when he smiled, thought Wishart. As beautiful and as dangerous as a fallen angel. My God, am I on the turn? he mocked himself. But his professional mind was thinking of Ellie Pascoe and the effort her husband had put into keeping up an appearance of simple domestic upset rather than personal crisis. It wasn’t yet clear to Wishart how much Pascoe was still fooling himself.

‘I think you know I did,’ Farr answered. ‘I ran into another deputy and told him I were going off shift and asked him to tell Satterthwaite.’

‘This was Mr Mycroft?’

‘That’s right. And before you ask, I don’t get on very well with him either.’

‘You seem to have a problem with authority, Mr Farr.’

‘No problem,’ said the young man with easy assurance.

‘Mr Mycroft says he advised that you ought to see Mr Satterthwaite personally.’

Farr shrugged and winced.

‘I can’t have been listening,’ he said. ‘I was in a hurry to get out. I just got on the paddy and didn’t stop till I was back on the bank.’

‘Your ringer,’ said Wishart. ‘That’s what they call it, isn’t it? Your working tool. Did you take that with you when you left Wardle and your other workmates?’

‘I dare say so. Or mebbe not. Someone else would need it, wouldn’t they?’

‘I assume so. Wardle and the other man, Dickinson I think it is, seemed uncertain, though on the whole they favoured seeing you leave empty-handed.’

‘It’s funny how people find it hard to remember, you must find that all the time,’ said Farr.

‘Too true. You showered on the way out, I suppose.’

‘Bloody right! And it were a bloody sight hotter than it normally is at proper knock-off time.’

‘And you’d normally leave your pit-black in the dirty lockers?’

‘I’d hardly take it with me, would I?’ said Farr but his scornful assertiveness faded even as he spoke. ‘Hold on. You mean it’s not there? And you think I hid it in case there were traces of blood or anything on it?’

Now it was Wishart’s turn to smile.

‘That’s very sharp for a poor working lad,’ he said. ‘Why didn’t you go home?’

‘What?’

‘You were ill. Why not go home and seek rest, relief, medical advice?’

‘The fresh air made me feel better. I didn’t want to worry my mam by getting back early. I thought I’d just go for a ride around till it were my normal time for getting back.’

‘But you were already well past that when you rang Mrs Pascoe.’

‘Look, she’s got nowt to do with any of this.’

‘I don’t suppose she has. Why did you ring her in particular?’

‘I don’t know. I suppose I just wanted to talk to someone who had nowt to do with Burrthorpe or the pit.’