The Glimpses of the Moon Read Free Page A

something. ‘Furrin sort of a name,’ he offered, supplementing entertainment with instruction.
    â€˜Let’s try another tack, then,’ said the Major, ‘Gobbo, you know
where
Routh was murdered, do you?’
    â€˜Ehss.’
    â€˜Well, where?’
    â€˜Bawdeys Meadow.’
    â€˜And how far away from here is that?’
    Gobbo ruminated. ‘Better nor tew mile,’ he eventually said. A joke occurred to him. ‘So be they abbn’ move’ en,’ he added, cawing with laughter.
    â€˜Yes, well, my dear fellow, don’t you see, if Hagberd was two miles away from here murdering Routh, you couldn’t have been talking to him under the tree, could you?’
    â€˜Ehss.’
    â€˜No, you couldn’t, Gobbo.’
    â€˜So be,’ said Gobbo happily, ‘they abbn’ move’ en - abbn’ move’ en, see? Abbn’,’ he croaked on a note of deep self-satisfaction, ‘move’ en.’
    â€˜That’s right,’ said Fen.
    â€˜But he
can’t
have been talking to him,’ said Padmore irritably. ‘He’s thinking of the wrong day.’ He addressed himself to Gobbo direct. ‘You
can’t
have been talking to Hagberd that evening. Or anyway, not at the time you say you were.’
    Gobbo gave a dignified sniff. ‘Tes trew, after that,’ he said. ‘So be ’ee doan believe ut, ask en up over,’ he went on, jerking his head in the direction of the ceiling. ‘Er sees all, knows all.’
    These indications, which seemed to Padmore to add up to God, were more mundanely interpreted by the Major. ‘Jack Jones?’ he said. He meant The Stanbury Arms’s landlord, a pronounced ergophobe of thirty-eight who spent almost all of his time upstairs in bed. ‘But if he’d seen you, he’d have been bound to mention it, I’d have thought.’
    â€˜But it’s all nonsense,’ said Padmore. ‘It
must
be all nonsense.’
    â€˜Still, think what a scoop you’ll have, my dear chap, if it turns out that Hagberd didn’t murder Routh after all.’
    â€˜I don’t
want
a scoop. I just want not to have to write seventy-five thousand words all over again.’
    â€˜Someone ought to have a word with Jack Jones about it, though,’ said Fen.
    â€˜But it’s all nonsense.’
    â€˜Oh, come now, my dear fellow,’ said the Major, ‘we can’t just drop the matter at this stage, can we?’
    â€˜But if there was anything in it, this Jack Jones or whoeveryou’re talking about would have said. You said so yourself.’
    â€˜Yes, but he may know something he doesn’t know he knows. Fen, my dear fellow, don’t you think it possible that Jack Jones knows something he doesn’t know he knows?’
    â€˜Quite possible, I’d say.’
    â€˜Well then, so we must dig it out,’ said the Major, as though Jack Jones were a challenging deposit of mineral-bearing clay. ‘Let’s ask Isobel if we can go and see Jack now, shall we?’
    â€˜Now?’ said Padmore.
    â€˜Yes, why not?’
    And Padmore sighed. ‘Oh, all right,’ he said resignedly. ‘It’s a wild-goose chase, obviously - or at least, I hope it is. But all right.’
    So they got to their feet - the Major effortfully, because of his arthritic hip - and went across to the bar-counter. Fred, who had sprung up with a yelp of gladness on seeing them begin to move, subsided again despairingly as soon as their direction became apparent. With the suddenness characteristic of old age, Gobbo had fallen fast asleep; his mouth hung open, displaying ochrous leathery gums and a pink tongue. Isobel Jones, summoned from the room at the back, said Yes, of course, her husband would be delighted to see them.
    â€˜Just a mo’ and I’ll let him know you’re coming,’ she said, ‘so he can straighten himself up. Not that he