'Got a message for yer, mate. Keep yer bleedin' nose outter fings wot don't concern yer. This'll 'elp yer remember.'
He suddenly drove his fist into my midriff, just below the sternum, and I gasped and doubled up, fighting for breath. I didn't have much of a chance after that. There were three of them and when I went down they got to work with their boots. It wasn't long before I passed out – but long enough to feel the pain.
A lot of people came to see me in hospital, some of whom surprised me by their appearance. The police came, of course, but they were followed by a man from the Special Branch checking on Billson because of the defence work done at Franklin Engineering. My wife didn't show up but she took the trouble to spend two minutes on the telephone ordering flowers to be sent to the hospital, which surprised me mildly.
Lord Brinton came, his hands behind his back. 'Don't want to drink this London water,' he said, and put a bottle of Malvern water on the bedside table. 'Spoils the taste of the scotch.' A bottle of Talisker joined the Malvern water.
I smiled – a painful process at the time. 'My doctor might not approve.'
'Better than bringing bloody grapes.' He. pulled up a chair and sat warming his ancient and expensive bones at the wall radiator. 'Not as good as a real fire,' he grumbled.
'Hospitals don't like open fires.'
'Well,' he said. 'What the hell happened, Max?'
'I was beaten up,' I said patiently.
'So I see,' he said with a straight face. 'Why?'
'I don't know. It seems I was "poking my nose into fings wot don't concern me", to quote the spokesman of the assault committee. He neglected to be more specific.'
'Mistaken identity?'
I began to shake my head and hastily decided against it for fear it should fall off. 'He made sure he knew who I was first.'
'What were you doing in Kensington?'
'Following up on a case.' I told him about Billson and what I had done. 'Miss Aarvik will be in Canada now,' I said.
'Good country,' observed Brinton. 'I was born there.' He said it as though the act of his being born there had conferred a distinction on Canada. 'I don't see how all this relates to your being beaten up.'
'Neither do I. Neither do the police or the Special Branch.'
His eyes sharpened. 'What's their interest?'
'Franklin Engineering makes bits and pieces of tanks.'
'And they're following up on Billson?'
'So it seems – but they're not pushing too hard. For all anyone can find out he hasn't committed a crime – yet.'
'You think he might?'
'Who knows what a man like Billson might or might not do. He's lived like a vegetable for fifteen years at least, and now he's gone charging off God knows where. He could be up to anything.'
'Well, you're out of it,' said Brinton. 'By the time you get out of here Andrew McGovern will have taken over responsibility for the security of Franklin Engineering.'
'How big a piece of the Whensley Group have you got?' I asked.
'About thirty per cent Why?'
'Then you'll be a big enough shareholder to ask why Bill-son was paid three times as much as he's worth and why there's a mystery made of it.'
'I'll look into it,' said Brinton. 'Can't have the shareholders diddled like that. All right, if you weren't beaten up because of Billson, what else have you been doing recently to get you into trouble?'
'My life has been blameless.'
Brinton grunted in his throat. 'Don't try to con an old sinner. Nobody's life is blameless. You're sure you haven't been sleeping in any of the wrong beds?' I just looked at him and he said, 'Not that I'd blame you under the circumstances.'
Soon after that he went away.
Charlie Malleson came to see me. He inspected my assortment of bruises, and said, 'Better not go out into the streets just yet. Someone from the Race Relations Board might get you for trying to cross the colour line.'
I sighed. 'You can do better than that, Charlie. If you have to make jokes they'd better be good. How's business?'
'We're coping. How long do you think you'll be laid up?'
'Nobody tells me anything – you know what hospitals are like.. From the way I feel now it'll be about six months, but I'll probably be back in a couple of weeks.'
'Take your time,' Charlie advised. 'Jack Ellis is trying on your shoes to see if they fit.'
'Good – but that will teach me to prophesy.' Charlie raised an eyebrow and I explained. 'I told Joyce that Jack was to take some of my work load. When she queried it I said that if I got knocked down in the street he'd have to take the lot. But this wasn't the sort of knocking down I had in mind.' I thought about Jack Ellis, then said, 'It's about time we made him a director, anyway. He's become very good and we don't want to lose him.'
'I agree,' said Charlie. 'And I think old Brinton will. Max, when did you last take a holiday?'
I grinned. 'That's a funny-sounding word. Maybe two years ago.'
