THE MITRE MURDER MYSTERY – PART 4 (SWANSONG)
Dr Doyle smiled at Pa Bumfold as the geriatric near cripple, broke wind, and inadvertently followed through. Dr Doyle turned his grinning face to Big Mac who had quickly averted his attention from the wireless, and was gesticulating as if to shake the Doctors hand.
Big Mac was as surprised as Bumfold to see the Doctor, as he had spoken to him on the phone only hours ago. However, he managed to maintain control of his sphincter and nonchalantly offered the wheezing Doctor Doyle a drink.
The Doctor accepted Big Macs offer of a drink, but refused a handshake, purposely placing both hands in his trouser pockets. After taking a glug from his large Bacardi and Coke, Dr Doyle stood between the trembling Pa Bumfold and the seated Big Mac and pulled a package from his war surplus overcoat pocket. The package consisted of a scarlet handkerchief that had been tied with cord so as to secure old black and white photographs, which on inspection were taken in the Mitre public house. However, on closer scrutiny, it was apparent that two of the photos were of a far more revealing nature and contained images of Ted the barman laying prone on the bar floor with both Old Pa Bumfold and Big Mac standing over the lifeless body. Both had implements in their hands, possibly a screwdriver and a spanner, and the darkened street viewed through the windows, together with the pub clock in the background, revealed that the time was 1.16 am.
Dr Doyle shuffled the photographs in his hands, and mentioned in an aggressive but positive manner, that he had copies and that they would find their way to Inspector Crapper at the Wembley Police station, if anything happened to him. Removing his wire spectacles from his blotched red face, and placing them in his inside coat pocket, the Doctor turned to Big Mac and explained that unless he helps recover the Crimson Wiener there will be no alternative for him, other than to hand the photographic evidence to the police, together with further information indicating where the skull of the murdered Barman could be recovered. Turning to Pa Bumfold, Dr Doyle whispered “when you came to me earlier, did you really think I didn’t know you were involved with the murder of Ted. I have known since the day after you handed these photographs to your wife for safe keeping. She showed them to be in the Mitre, boasting that she had taken them, and for a few drinks she handed them to be together with the negatives. ”
The telephone behind the bar started to ring rhythmically and startled Big Mac and Pa Bumfold from their panic induced silence. The governor of the Swan lifted the receiver and stood back as the ranting of a hormone deficient mountain goat bawled down the line. Regaining his composure the publican scanned the bar and shouted to all and sundry as to whether a Mr Bumfold was in the house. Knowing it could only be his wife, Bumfold gesticulated that he wasn’t there and that was sorry for the interruption. The relevant information was relayed to his deranged octogenarian wife Gloria, who slammed the phone back on to its base almost breaking the Bakelite casing.
Dr Doyle grabbed Big Mac by the shoulder and pulled Pa Bumfold towards his screwed up face and whispered that unless he hears from both of them by the morning regarding the whereabouts of the Crimson Wiener, they would both be receiving a knock from the old bill and be taking a short walk to the hangman’s noose shortly afterwards. So as to exaggerate his claim, he pulled a flat black cap from his pocket and placed it on his head, before turning his back on his trembling counterparts and swiftly exiting the Swan.
Big Mac and Bumfold sat with empty glasses for a few minutes until they noticed a commotion coming from the direction of the Bar Billiards table. As Big Mac ordered two further drinks, Old Pa Bumfold recognised that the fracas was centred on “Pope Pat” a retarded and defrocked former priest from Achill, an island located off the coast of County Mayo in West Ireland. Pope Pat was supposedly a reformed alcoholic, but was prone to prolonged lapses of abstinence, and during these periods was extremely unstable and dangerous company. He was known to be an associate of Dr Doyle, and had actually previously operated on missions all over Europe with Big Mac and his accomplices.
These operations had included undercover missions to Dublin, Paris, Rome, Amsterdam, Brussels, Munich and other European destinations, together with active duty in Edinburgh, Cardiff, Bath and the Isle of White. After a few minutes the Bar Billiard table was surrounded by drunken travellers and navies, shaking hands and hugging each other. Walking away from this melee was Pope Pat who made a direct approach to where Big Mac and Pa Bumfold were seated.
“How’s the crack, you whores” retorted the inebriate ex priest who pulling a wad of five pound notes from his britches offered all and sundry a drink.
To be continued......
