CHAPTER SIX

Michaelis' wealthy friend was actually considered a great woman among society. She was also a friend of the Assistant Commissioner's wife. Now quite old, she had lived most of her life among the rich and powerful. She felt comfortable with her position in society and this allowed her to share her rather strong opinions about the world with anyone. She was so intelligent and so sure of herself; almost everyone who knew her admired her. She often had parties at her home and would invite anyone who seemed to her above normal society, whether by money, power, intelligence, or talent. This allowed her to keep an eye on the direction in which the world was moving at any given time. Sometimes this even meant allowing criminals into her home, criminals like Michaelis, for example.

Michaelis had been hated by most of society just before going to prison. He had been involved in a plan to release two criminals from a police car. The plan went badly and one of the guards was killed. The guard had a wife and three children at the time and all of society felt terribly sorry for the family. The criminals involved in the plan quickly became the most hated people in all of England. Most of them were killed, but Michaelis, whose role in the crime was only to unlock the door of the car, was sent to prison, instead. He was sent there to stay for the rest of his life, because in the courtroom he had said; "Although I am sad about the death of the police officer, I'm also disappointed that we didn't succeed in our plan." Later on, some powerful people, for reasons still unknown, made a strong argument for Michaelis to be freed from prison. He, himself, had nothing to do with it. He was released, but under the very watchful eyes of the police force.

In reality, Michaelis was not what most people would call a "great thinker". But he had done a lot of thinking in prison. And from all of this thought came the conclusion that society was going to improve itself in the future. He believed in the natural good of the people. Being a bit shy and even a little like a child, he always avoided the eyes of others when sharing the ideas he had developed in prison. This made him seem charming to others, including the great woman who was now sharing a bit of her wealth with him.

His first appearance in society, after being released from prison, was at this woman's party. And he did very well. The Assistant Commissioner had been there and had even heard the conversation that Michaelis had with the old woman. It was the first time they had met. It was obvious that she pitied the fat man and also found him charming in his shy, but friendly manner.

After Michaelis had left the party, the old woman sat quietly for a few moments and then, turning to the Assistant Commissioner said, "I can't believe you think he's dangerous!"

"Not dangerous, maybe, but a man who wants revolution," he had answered.

"They put him away for twenty years because of his beliefs. That is a crime against him! Now he has nothing and no one. Obviously, the poor man needs someone to care for him. He cannot do it himself."

The whole room began to agree with her. Even the Assistant Commissioner agreed, although he did not say this to anyone. So, when he heard the Chief Inspector mention Michaelis, he became uncomfortable. He knew that the old lady would not sit quietly and allow the man's freedom to be threatened. He also knew that the unhealthy man would never live through another trial and prison term. It would certainly kill him. The old woman would blame the Assistant Commissioner. She would begin to hate him. This idea upset him for several reasons. He liked going to her parties and felt that the people there liked him, as well. He also respected the woman and felt that she was truly one of the kindest people he had ever known. And, lastly, she was a very good influence on his wife, who, without the old woman's friendship and advice, would have made their marriage a terrible one.

"So, you think Michaelis is somehow connected to this bombing?" the Assistant Commissioner asked with his back to the Inspector.

"I'm pretty sure of it, sir," Inspector Heat answered, "I'd certainly have no trouble finding information to prove it." He then laughed a little in order to show his boss just how easy it would be.

The Assistant Commissioner felt a sudden rise of anger within himself. He turned around very quickly to face the Inspector. He did not trust the Inspector to do his work honestly. He felt that the man might make up a lie against Michaelis and build up false proof around it. He could not help but think this, because he was a true detective. It was quite natural for him to mistrust others and question their actions.

"What kind of tricks are you planning here?"

"Sir, I don't know what you mean."

"I mean that if you really thought Michaelis was involved, you would have sent some of your men out to his home to investigate. But you haven't, have you?"

"Do you think I'm doing my job incorrectly, sir?" asked the Inspector.

"No, that's not what I'm saying. He just happens to live three miles from the train station the two bombers are reported to have come from."

"I think that it's enough to show his guilt, sir."

The Inspector respected the Assistant Commissioner, but he found him to be a little strange. He was certainly very different from the two Assistant Commissioners he had served before. After eighteen months, he was still a mystery to the Inspector.

"Do you know what he's been doing since he moved to the countryside, Inspector? Exactly, I mean."

The Assistant Commissioner, himself, knew that Miehaelis spent almost all of his time sitting in a small house writing a book about his time in prison and the ideas that came to him there.

"I should have a detailed report within the next three hours," answered the Inspector.

He could not understand why the Assistant Commissioner was behaving this way. It was normal and perfectly legal to arrest Miehaelis and question him. His involvement in revolutionary meetings was very well known. Of course, he also knew that Michaelis' involvement was probably not very deep. In fact, there were plenty of other criminals who were much guiltier than this man. However, they were much more difficult to catch and prove guilty. Miehaelis was easy to catch and well known among the people.

"But why did you not think of Miehaelis until you entered my office?" the Assistant Commissioner asked.

"Well ... If there weren't enough proof ... I suppose I wouldn't send my men out there ... " the Inspector said, still confused by his boss' behavior.

"Exactly! Not enough proof. Now leave it at that. Do you understand?"

The Inspector was proud of the honest work that he did. He did not like what he was being asked to do, and he was not afraid of the Assistant Commissioner, "You'll not be in this job for very long," he wanted to say to his boss.

"Now, tell me what facts you have found about this case," the Assistant Commissioner said, changing the subject.

"I found this cloth this morning at the hospital," the Inspector said pulling out a piece of cloth from his pocket, "It belonged to the dead bomber. You can see that there's an address written on it."

"Why in the world would he have his address written on his clothing?" asked the Assistant Commissioner.

"Some people do it in case they have an accident and people can't identify them. Some old people do it in case they lose their memory and get lost."

"Well, what's at this address?"

"A store, sir. It belongs to a man named Verloc. He works as a spy for the Embassy."

"And why don't I know about him?"

"No One really knows, except for me, sir. A friend of mine told me about him. Since then, it has been my own little secret. Anyway, I met Mr Verloc around seven years ago when the Ambassador at the time, Baron Stott-Wartenheim, called me over to his office and had this fat man tell me a surprising piece of information. It was information about some visiting French government officials who were going to the opera that evening. When I turned to talk with the Baron for a moment, he quietly ran out of the room. I used the information that he gave me and it turned out to be quite true. It prevented a major event from happening. A month or so later, I visited Paris and met a friend of mine who worked for the police. I described Verloc to him and he said that they believed he might be a spy for one of the embassies in London. He then got every file he had on Mr Yerloc and gave it to me. When I returned to London, I visited him at his store and told him who I was. We then made a deal that I would not report his illegal business to the police if he would stay out of trouble and occasionally provide me with information about the revolutionists. Generally, he was someone I felt that I could trust to give me good information." "So, is this man being watched by us?"

"Not really. I don't think that he has much to do with this bombing. I think that Michaelis is the man we want."

"Hm. And the man who ran away before the bomb exploded?"

"I guess that he's probably far away from London now." The Assistant Commissioner made up his mind suddenly. He told the Inspector to return to his office in the morning with further reports about the investigation. He, being a detective at heart, felt like doing a bit of detective work, himself, instead of sitting in his office and sorting through papers. After the Inspector had left the office for home, the Assistant Commissioner soon followed.

(end of section)