Call for the Dead Read Online Free

returned to the drawing-room. "It was for you. Your eight-thirty call from the exchange." He was aware of a pause and glanced incuriously towards her. But she had turned away from him and was standing looking out of the window, her slender back very straight and still, her stiff, short hair dark against the morning light. _ Suddenly he stared at her. Something had occurred to him which he should have realised upstairs in the bedroom, something so improbable that for a moment his brain was unable to grasp it. Mechanically he went on talking; he must get out of there, get away from the telephone and Maston's hysterical questions, get away from Eisa Fennan and her dark, restless house. Get away and think. "I have intruded too much already, Mrs. Fennan, and I must now take your advice and return to Whitehall." Again the cold, frail hand, the mumbled expressions of sympathy. He collected his coat from the hall and stepped out into the early sunlight. The winter sun had just appeared for a moment after the rain, and it repainted in pale, wet colours the trees and houses of Merridale Lane. The sky was still dark grey, and the world beneath it strangely luminous, giving back the sunlight it had stolen from nowhere. He walked slowly down the gravel path, fearful of being called back. He returned to the police station, full of disturbing thoughts. To begin with it was not Eisa Fennan who had asked the exchange for an eight-thirty call that morning.
    IV
    COFFEE AT THE FOUNTAIN
    The C.I.D. Superintendent at Walliston was a large, genial soul who measured professional competence in years of service and saw no fault in the habit. Sparrow's Inspector Mendel on the other hand was a thin, weasel-faced gentleman who spoke very rapidly out of the corner of his mouth. Smiley secretly likened him to a gamekeeper--a man who knew his territory and disliked intruders. "I have a message from your Department, sir. You're to ring the Adviser at once." The Superintendent indicated his telephone with an enormous hand and walked out through the open door of his office. Mendel remained. Smiley looked at him owlishly for a moment, guessing his man. "Shut the door." Mendel moved to the door and pulled it quietly to. "I want to make an enquiry of the Walliston telephone exchange. Who's the most likely contact?" "Assistant Supervisor, normally. Supervisor's always in the clouds; Assistant Supervisor does the work." "Know the number?" "Walliston 2944. Subscriber Samuel Fennan, I should think." Mendel moved to the telephone and dialled 0. While he waited for a reply he said to Smiley: "You don't want anyone to know about this, do you?" "No one. Not even you. There's probably nothing in it. If we start bleating about murder we'll..." Mendel was through to the exchange, asking for the Assistant Supervisor. "Walliston C.I.D. here, Superintendent's office. We have an enquiry... yes, of course... ring me back then... C.I.D. outside line, Walliston 2421." He replaced the receiver and waited for the exchange to ring him. "Sensible girl," he muttered, without looking at Smiley. The telephone rang and he began speaking at once. "We're investigating a burglary in Merridale Lane. Number 18. Just possible they used No.15 as an observation point for a job on the opposite house. Have you got any way of finding out whether calls were originated or received on Walliston 2944 in the last twenty-four hours?" There was a pause. Mendel put his hand over the mouthpiece and turned to Smiley with a very slight grin. Smiley suddenly liked him a good deal. "She's asking the girls," said Mendel; "and she'll look at the dockets." He turned back to the telephone and began jotting down figures on the Superintendent's pad. He stiffened abruptly and leaned forward on the desk. "Oh yes." His voice was casual, in contrast to his attitude; "I wonder when she asked for that?" Another pause... "19.55 hours... a man, eh? The girls sure of that, is she?... Oh, I see, oh, well, that fixes that. Thanks