‘Perhaps,’ said Ellie. ‘He seems bright enough to steal the diamonds, too.’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Elk. ‘Deserter? Diamonds?’
‘Ah, sorry,’ said Benny. ‘Should I not have said anything?’
‘No, it’s all right, mate,’ said Skins. ‘We should probably have told everyone anyway.’
‘Told us what?’ said Mickey.
So for the next ten minutes, Skins, Ellie, and Dunn told the rest of the band about Superintendent Sunderland, Arthur Grant the deserter, twenty-five thousand pounds’ worth of rough diamonds, and the rumoured resting place of the Treasure of the Mayfair Murderer.
‘Twenty-five thou? Bleedin’ ’ell,’ said Mickey. ‘You could live the life of Riley on that.’
‘You could take it easy, join a gentlemen’s club, horse around with your pals . . .’ said Ellie.
‘Murder lady sax players,’ said Eustace.
They all looked at him.
‘Oh, come on,’ he said. ‘Vera from the Finchley Foot-Tappers fell ill after working there. Now Blanche is dead. He clearly tried it out on Vera, realized he’d got the dose wrong, and had another go when Blanche and Puddle showed up. Didn’t matter which one took the poison as long as it was a girl who played the saxophone. Probably even liked the randomness of it. A bit of godlike power, like tossing a coin to see which one died.’
‘So you’re backing Danny as the deserter and the murderer, then?’ said Benny.
‘Why not? Nobody said cowards can’t be killers.’
‘That’s all well and good, like,’ said Mickey. ‘But what are we gonna do about it? And do we get a share of the diamonds?’
‘The best thing we can do,’ said Ellie, ‘is keep our eyes and ears open. If you can go along with the fiction of me being your manager for a little longer, I can come and go at the club whenever you’re there. I was going to carry on speaking to the Alphabet Gang one by one – seeing what I can find out – and if I ever get the chance I’m going to have a snoop round the rest of the club. I’ll bet they have all sorts of nooks and crannies where folks can hide things.’
‘We can chat, too,’ said Elk. ‘Everyone loves a musician. We might be riff-raff the rest of the time, but once we pick up an instrument we’re royalty. We have a certain cachet.’
‘Do we?’ said Mickey. ‘Is there an ointment for it?’
Elk looked momentarily doubtful. ‘I think that’s the right word. My wife said it the other day. Perhaps. Don’t matter. Point is, we can all pal up with these blokes and they’ll lap up the attention. We can root the bugger out.’
‘Best play it cagey, though,’ said Skins. ‘If we all suddenly go in there, acting like we’re all best mates and asking loads of questions, we’re going to spook him. Probably be best if you leave it to us three.’
‘Why you three?’ said Eustace. ‘Why not some other three?’
‘No reason other than that we’re the ones Sunderland asked to do it. It’s not like there’s any glory or reward we’re cheating you out of.’
‘He’s right,’ said Ellie. ‘We all want to catch Blanche’s killer and it doesn’t much matter how we get it done. I’ll be honest, I think the police will handle that just fine – but if we can help, then so much the better. But the deserter is only really of interest to Superintendent Sunderland, and if you can all just be aware of what we’re trying to do and not give anything away, that would be . . . what is it you guys say? Spiffing?’
‘I’ve never said “spiffing” in me life,’ said Mickey. ‘But I’ll play along. Always happy to settle with a deserter. I hate them cowards.’
‘Very well,’ Eustace conceded. ‘And what do you plan to do next?’
‘I’ll come along to the dance lesson tomorrow,’ said Ellie, ‘and see who I can talk to.’
It was once again Ellie who saw an opportunity to talk to one of the Alphabet Gang the next evening. Having helped Alfie on Tuesday it was a natural move to offer the same support to Ernie. As before, she approached Millie shortly before the break and suggested she dance with Ernie. Millie agreed and the rest of the Alphabets ragged their dancing duffer.
‘Couldn’t we just erect some sort of screen for Alfie and Ernie to dance behind?’ said Bertie. ‘Like a windbreak on the beach, or a changing screen in a lady’s boudoir.’
‘And have them come out in different outfits,’ said Charlie. ‘I like it. Turn it into a comedy act. Distract the Wags from our collective ineptitude.’
‘Oh, top-hole idea,’ said Bertie. ‘Have them come out dressed as gels – there’s some choice outfits in the Ents Committee costume trunk.’
‘Now look here,’ said Alfie. ‘More than happy to be the class duffer – been that all my life – but I draw the line at actually asking chaps to laugh at me.’
‘That’s the point, though, isn’t it?’ said Bertie. ‘You come out dressed to make them laugh and you’re in control of it. You’re the one setting the pace, d’you see? They’re not laughing because you’re a duffer, they’re laughing because you chose to do something funny. Completely different kettle of kippers.’
‘Would you mind awfully if we concentrated on the dance steps for now and sorted out the finer details of the presentation some other time?’ Millie was once again becoming impatient.
‘Right you are, Miss M,’ said Alfie. ‘Lips buttoned. Dance on.’
Ellie joined Ernie, but quickly found that he was a hopeless case – an actual lost cause.
‘I’m so sorry, m’dear,’ he mumbled, as the number ended and Millie announced the break. ‘I just can’t seem to get the hang of it at all.’
Ellie squeezed his arm. ‘We’ll think of something.’
‘Beginning to think Bertie’s idea might not be so hare-brained after all,’ he said. ‘If we just come out from behind a screen dressed as fillies . . . or a . . . Actually, that’s not a bad idea. That might work.’
‘What might work?’
‘Dressed as a filly. The both of us.’ He turned towards the table by the wall, where everyone else was helping themselves to beer. ‘I say, you chaps, know anywhere we can get a pantomime horse costume?’
The Alphabets looked blank.
‘There’s a couple of places in the West End would sort you out,’ called Skins from the stage. ‘Why?’
‘Don’t you see?’ said Ernie. ‘It’s perfect.’
‘What’s perfect about it?’ asked Bertie.
‘D’you think it’s easy or difficult to dance in a pantomime horse costume?’
‘Rather tricky, I should imagine.’
‘So if Alfie and I come out dressed as a horse, no one’s expectations are going to be especially high. With me at the back just sort of shuffling about and trying to keep up, Alfie can Charleston at the front and the place will go bonkers. A horse doing the Charleston. It doesn’t matter if we muff it up – we’ll get points from the judges for the sheer hilarity of it. It’s our way to win.’