The Bee's Kiss by Barbara Cleverly Page A

wretched girl. I telephoned her home to make suitable arrangements at nine this morning only to be told by her father that Mathilda had already left the house in her uniform, reporting for duty in Hyde Park.’ He waved an arm vaguely to the west. ‘So she’s out there somewhere in six hundred acres of woodland, lake and garden.’
    Armitage’s expression hardened but he commented lightly enough, ‘And they do a good job, these women, I understand . . . fishing little boys out of the Serpentine, protecting laundry maids taking a short cut between the wilder parts of Bayswater and the Knightsbridge hotels, reuniting straying toddlers with their nannies.’
    ‘The weaker members of the park-going community must be comforted by their presence,’ said Joe firmly.
    ‘Yers, and I’ve heard as how they’ve protected many an unworldly politician from the terrifying advances of ladies of a certain profession,’ drawled Armitage with undisguised sarcasm. ‘Did you hear, sir, about the Assistant Commissioner last December . . .’ He looked about him. ‘Must have been somewhere round here . . . Caught in flagrante with a Miss Thelma de Lava. I know the two lads who made the arrest. Takes courage to pick up the boss! Stout chaps!’
    ‘Would you say stout chaps? I’d say pig-headed prudes,’ said Joe mildly. ‘Anyway – the gentleman in question was the
ex
-Assistant Commissioner. And why the hell shouldn’t he treat himself to an early Christmas present?
    ‘Look, I suggest we start our search at the police station. They should be aware of her route. It’s up near the new bird sanctuary just past the Rangers’ Lodge. Hang on, though – let’s not forget it’s a Sunday.’
    ‘Right, sir. And that means there’ll be half London in the park and most of those’ll be milling about at Speakers’ Corner up by the Marble Arch.’
    ‘And you’re thinking that’s where she’ll have been deployed? Makes sense, don’t you think so?’
    ‘I’d rather
not
think so!’ Armitage’s face clouded. ‘It’s not a place I’d deploy a woman in uniform. Not today. Word is, things are likely to get a bit lively in the parks over this next bit. It’s this bloody strike that’s getting everyone het up. People are violently in favour or the reverse. And that’s where you’re likely to get clashes. Trouble. And there’s the usual pack of no-goods who can smell it across the city. They’re not interested in debate – all they want is a barney. They’ll turn up in their hobnails with their white scarves and their bull terriers just to see what’s going on. And if nothing’s going on – well, they’ll soon fix that!’ He added thoughtfully, ‘A woman in uniform is just their idea of an easy target. Shall we start searching at the Arch, sir?’
    Joe responded to the concern in the sergeant’s voice. ‘Very well, Bill. Look, to save time, we’ll get a taxi to take us down Piccadilly and up Park Lane. We’ll check through the crowds there and work our way through the half-mile of wilderness across to the police station.’
    ‘Good to have a plan to work to, sir!’ said Armitage with a grin and Joe imagined rather than saw the salute.
    ‘If all goes well, we might even have time for a cuppa in the Ring Tea House,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Come on!’
    When it could make no further headway against the strolling, laughing crowds, the taxi dropped them off to make their way over the turfed stretch of ground facing the Arch, the grassy area already thick with orators, street corner preachers and their audiences. Speakers’ Corner. You could always tell when the country was in a ferment, Joe thought, by counting the numbers of men and women standing on soapboxes, shouting, and by the size of the crowds prepared to stand and shout back at them. He turned a professional law-man’s calculating eye on the speakers as they threaded their way through. The passionate rhetoric and hot dark eye of a striking coal miner almost