The Reconnaissance of the Atomic Club did not get back until the early hours of the morning, and its members were found, when they did return, to be in no fit state to be cross-examined.
Accordingly it was the next morning before Sergeant Dalgetty presented his report. Glasgow was not present, being still in bed.
“It’s some place,” he said. “Distinctly hot, sir. That five pound you gave me – it hardly seemed to go anywhere.”
It struck McCann that private detection was a more expensive hobby than he had imagined.
“Did you have any difficulty over getting in?” he asked.
“Easy as kiss your hand, sir, what with Miss McDuff to do the talking and me handing out the money. The chap on the door seemed to know her, all right, and she seemed to know him too. He said, ‘And who’s your friend, Glasgow?’ She said, ‘Miss McDuff to you, and this is the Archbishop of Canterbury.’ ‘Can’t be,’ said the man, ‘he’s inside already.’ After which sparkling piece of repartee I paid out a guinea for each of us – that made us members, for this life and the next – and in we went. Well, sir, it’s small, but, as I said, pretty hot. Plenty of anything you may care to pay for. Good food – and drink, and a nigger band. There was a film show downstairs if you cared for that sort of thing. I can’t say I fancied it. I’m a simple sort of a chap; I like wine and women and plenty of them and everything the right way up.”
“I see,” said McCann. “I thought it might be that sort of place.”
“Anyhow, the liquor was good. Pre-war Scotch and plenty of it at five pounds a bottle.”
“Well, that’s reasonable enough,” said McCann. “You can pay more than that without going to a night club for it. Apart from the side-shows, which I gather you didn’t patronise, did you see anything suspicious?”
“Nothing to lay hold of,” said Dalgetty. “Just a general nasty atmosphere.”
“Did you meet the manager?”
“Manageress – respectable-looking little party.”
“Let’s have an honest opinion,” said McCann. “Do you think that it’s worth a further look? Was there anything to suggest that it might be the sort of place we’re looking for?”
“The headquarters of the gang?”
“Yes—or a meeting-place.”
Dalgetty considered for some time before answering.
“It’s hard to put a finger on it,” he said at last, “but there was, as you might say, a faint stink about the place.”
“Can’t you be more definite than that?”
“If there was anything wrong, sir, it must have been upstairs. I managed to move round most of the ground floor and basement and Glasgow had a dekko at the other parts, and we neither of us saw anything suspicious. There were one or two people who seemed to come, and go and it wasn’t easy to see where they went to – one large foreign type, in particular. I noticed him because he was alone –didn’t bring a skirt with him, I mean, or pick one up off the cab-rank.”
“A foreigner? What nationality?”
“Might have been a Spaniard,” said Dalgetty, cautiously.
“I see, and he kept disappearing upstairs?”
“I couldn’t say that. All I’m saying is, I lost sight of him now and then, and just for curiosity, I looked round a bit, but I couldn’t find him, see? Then later, he turned up again, that’s all.”
“I think I’ll go and have a look for myself,” said McCann.