Authors: Maureen Reynolds
Molly realised there was something different about the room. She sniffed. There was a fresh smell of polish and no overflowing ashtrays. Frances noticed this. ‘I’ve given up the cigarettes. It’s a mug’s game wasting money on blowing smoke into the air.’
Another omission was Maggie. Molly asked after her. ‘She’s away back to school. Her tonsillitis has cleared up.’
Molly came straight to the point. ‘Have you got the address of your ex-neighbour, Miss Price?’
Frances stared at her. ‘Miss Price? You mean Vincent?’
‘Yes, I know that’s what your husband calls her but I think her name is Robina and she’s Vera Barton’s sister.’
Frances laughed out loud. ‘Don’t be daft. Miss Price was my teacher at primary school. I hated her as she would hit you if you did anything wrong.’
‘What school did you go to?’
‘I went to convent school in Ireland. My parents came over to Dundee when I was twelve. One day I bumped into Miss Price. She had recently moved here and I invited her to come and visit as I thought she was a lonely person.’
‘So when you came here to live it would be about 1926?’
‘No, early 1927.’
‘Was Miss Price still at the school when you left?’
‘Yes, she was and to be frank I was glad to be away from her but I find her company all right now.’
‘Do you have her address, Frances?’
‘Yes, she lives at 10 Elizabeth Street.’
Molly thanked her and said, ‘Good luck with your no smoking regime.’ She was going to mention her thanks to Maggie but thought it better to leave it, just in case Maggie hadn’t told her mother about her visits to Molly.
As she sat on the bus, Molly tried to make sense of Frances’ statement. If Robina had been in Ireland in 1927 then she must have come over to see her sister in 1929. That’s if Anita’s memory was correct. What did she do then? Stay here or go back to the convent school? Was she still in Dundee when Dave Barton had his accident, and could Etta have gone to see her aunt and maybe travelled with her back to Ireland? That would make sense and explain why Etta had disappeared so suddenly. Had she heard about her father’s death and gone to see Robina and her aunt had suggested moving away with her?
When she got off the bus, she made her way to Elizabeth Street, a narrow street of houses that lay between Ann Street and Alexander Street. Number ten was on the left and the houses looked different from their neighbours, mainly because they had narrow gardens between the street and the closes.
Molly scanned each door and found Robina’s flat on the first floor. She knocked but everything was quiet. No one answered, so she knocked again. Still no answer, so she had no choice but to walk away. Before she did, she took a card from her bag and wrote that she would like a few words with Miss Price and that she would be in the office. A single-decker bus turned the corner and stopped outside the close but no one got off or on. She looked up at the windows but most had net curtains screening the view and there wasn’t the slightest twitching from any of them. Only once she had turned to head back did the curtain on the first floor move but by that point Molly was already walking away.
She decided to go see Vera again before going to the office. Molly was dismayed to see Vera hadn’t washed the dishes or made herself something to eat. ‘Vera, did you know your sister lived in Ireland and taught at a convent school there?’
Vera didn’t seem interested and Molly wondered how many sleeping pills she had taken. ‘Vera, did you hear what I said?’
Vera waved her hands in front of her face. ‘Oh, just go away.’
Molly was alarmed by this attitude. ‘Yes, Vera, I’m leaving and the case is closed as far as I’m concerned. I’m sorry I didn’t find your daughter but I’m now going to go to the police about the attempts on not only your life but on another witness’s as well.’
Vera looked at her. ‘Another witness? What witness?’
‘A man called Peter Walsh, who went out briefly with your daughter before she disappeared.’
Vera laughed harshly. ‘Etta never had any boyfriends. I would have known.’
‘Well, she went out with this lad when they were both sixteen. It only lasted a few weeks before he said he had another girlfriend and he says she was devastated by this.’
Before leaving, Molly asked her, ‘What’s the name of your doctor, Vera?’
‘Doctor James. He has a surgery in Garland Place.’
‘Well, please get him to come and see you, as you need help with all this trauma.’
Vera nodded but, again, she didn’t seem interested.
Molly made a detour to Garland Place to see Doctor James. Luckily he wasn’t busy, so she was able to have a quick word with him and tell him her worries over Vera. He said he would make a house call that afternoon.
Feeling slightly better, she finally reached the office and was taken aback to see DS Johns sitting in the visitor’s chair. Jean was quietly answering the phone and trying hard not to notice him. Mary was just leaving. She had also been waiting to see Molly about a new assignment but she recognised him from last year and said, ‘I’ll come and see you tonight. Molly.’
DS Johns stood up when he saw her and said, ‘I’d like a word with you, Miss McQueen. Somewhere private if that’s possible.’
Jean looked alarmed but stayed silent. ‘Come upstairs to the flat.’ Although she sounded confident, her heart was beating wildly. She hadn’t seen him since last year and the sight of his official manner brought it all back to her.
His gaze took in the entire room. ‘You’ve done it up great,’ he said.
Molly said she liked living here. ‘It’s strange that you should be here,’ she said. ‘I was just going to contact the police about this job I’ve taken on. It’s turned very dangerous and I don’t know what to do about it.’
‘I think you should start at the beginning, Miss McQueen.’ Charlie Johns sat back in his chair and made himself comfortable. He was expecting to be here for some time. ‘I’ve just come back from the infirmary where a Peter Walsh has just come through a very serious operation after a particularly nasty accident.’
Molly butted in. ‘Yes, I heard.’
Charlie looked surprised. ‘How did you hear about it? It only happened this morning.’
Molly explained her connection with Frances and her son Jimmy. ‘I went to see Frances Flynn about another person. I wanted her address and Frances told me about Peter. How is he?’
‘Well, he’ll live but I expect the person who cut the brakes on his bike was hoping he wouldn’t.’
‘Cut the brakes?’ Molly was shocked. She had hoped that it had been an accident and not this premeditated act. ‘Vera Barton, the woman who hired me to try and find her daughter, has also had two accidents and I’ve had my father’s car broken into and my notebooks stolen.’
Molly told him all she had found out so far. ‘I’ll type up my notes along with the names and addresses and if you wait for half an hour I’ll give them to you. Or maybe you would like to come back later?’
Charlie looked at her as she went over to the desk where the portable typewriter was sitting. Although he was upset that she hadn’t come to the police with this case earlier – she could have got herself hurt – he was glad that they had been thrown together again. She was a good-looking woman with great stamina. He had admired her last year after her traumatic time and he noticed she had got on with her life and even turned the two dingy rooms into a lovely flat. Now it looked like she had got embroiled in another nasty incident and he hoped he could solve it before there were any more accidents. ‘Can I make a cup of tea, Miss McQueen?’
‘Oh, for goodness sakes, call me Molly, and you can make me one as well.’
‘All right, but only if you call me Charlie.’ He pottered around the tiny kitchen area and soon found all he needed, even a tin of biscuits. He carried the tray over to the coffee table. ‘Tea’s ready when you are,’ he said.
Molly joined him with a thick bunch of typed paper, which she had put in a cardboard folder. She had even put a sticky label on the front, which stated it was a report on Etta Barton. ‘You should be in the police force, Molly. I’ve never known anyone to type as quickly as you,’ he said, while eating a custard cream biscuit.
He laughed when she winked and said, ‘That’s why I’ve got a secretarial agency with my name above the door.’ She became serious. ‘As I told you, this case began in 1930 and all the people I’ve interviewed have been great in telling me their thoughts on Etta, but no one has any idea where she went. But now with these accidents it seems I’ve uncovered something but I’ve no idea what. Maybe one of the people I talked to has mentioned it to someone else, and then they passed it on to someone else. It’s endless.’ She smiled at him. ‘I’m glad to be finished with it, to tell you the truth, and I hope you get to the bottom of it.’
Charlie thought she’d got a lovely smile. ‘I hope so and we’ll do our best.’
They sat with their tea and Molly asked. ‘How are Tam and Rover?’ Molly had met them last year.
‘Tam’s fine and Rover still likes his walks every day. I go and see him every two or three weeks and have a drink with him on my day off. He loves his rum and a chat. He’s a marvellous old man and, of course, Rover has to have his dog biscuit when I visit them. His neighbour next door, Ina, is still very good to him and he says she’s like the daughter he never had.’
‘I’m glad. Give him my regards when you meet him again. Now, back to this case. I couldn’t get an answer from Robina Price’s address but I’m sure she was in. She’s the only one I haven’t talked to and if I had to suspect anyone, I would say it was her.’
Charlie stood up reluctantly. He was enjoying his chat with Molly. He was amused by this because earlier today, he had been furious when he knew she was involved with another mystery, and he had intended to give her a good talking to and now, here he was, having a cosy chat and tea, not to mention on first name terms.
‘One more thing, Charlie. Can you keep an eye on Vera Barton, please? I’m really worried this person will attack her again and maybe succeed next time.’
He promised he would. ‘I think now that the police are involved, this person might be frightened to carry on. It’s one thing dealing with two women and a man who doesn’t know why this has happened to him, but another thing when the police force is involved.’
As they walked down the stairs together, Molly asked him, ‘Will you keep in touch with me over this?’
Charlie, who had been wondering how to see her again, said, ‘I’ll do that and if you give me a card, I’ll phone, just to make sure you are all right.’
As he left, Jean raised her eyebrows, a question forming on her lips. ‘He’ll phone you?’ Molly felt her face turning red and she bolted up the stairs with Jean’s laughter following her.
Mary turned up after work. Molly was pleased to see her as she had lost touch with the staff because of this case, but she knew Jean was capable of dealing with the day-to-day running of the business, at least for a short time. Mary was apologetic. ‘I need to have next Monday off, Molly. My uncle has died and we are going to the funeral. I’ll still be in Watt’s office until the end of that week and I’m not sure if you’ll have a replacement for me. I did ask Jean, but she said to talk to you.’
Molly went and looked at the work’s roster. ‘I see Edna is still at Albert’s Stores but she finishes at the end of next week.’ She laughed. ‘Providing Nancy gets over her Asian flu and doesn’t fall foul of the dreaded Scottish cold. That girl is a young hypochondriac but it gives us some work, so we’ll not wish her a speedy recovery. Still, I’ll be able to take over that day for you, Mary, and I’ll give you a letter to take to the office to explain everything.’
‘That’s fine, then,’ said Mary. ‘Mum wasn’t sure if I could but she’ll be pleased that we can all go as a family. He is my dad’s oldest brother.’
‘How are you getting on with this job? Is it a pleasant place to work?’ Molly didn’t want to keep Mary from getting home but she was glad of the company as she didn’t relish another night on her own.
‘Yes, I enjoy the work. It’s a small office but the two women who work there are very friendly. Their colleague has been off with the flu, but I’m not sure if it’s the Asian kind.’ They both laughed. Mary seemed to be in chatty mood. ‘I got a letter from Phil yesterday. He says the square-bashing is tough and the sergeant keeps shouting at them, but he hopes to get home on leave soon.’
‘Do you miss him, Mary?’ asked Molly. She had heard loads of stories of sweethearts, wives and husbands being parted by National Service commitments and how tough it was on them.
‘He’s just a friend but I like him. We have a laugh together when we go to the pictures, but to be honest, Molly, I’m not sure I could cope with all the attention he gets from other girls. I’m not a jealous person, at least I don’t think I am, but I could easily feel like that if we were serious about one another.’
‘Well, there’s no need to be serious yet. Just enjoy his company when he comes home and then see how it goes.’
‘That’s what I thought I would do.’
‘Will you stay for something to eat, Mary? I could easily rustle up a simple meal.’
Mary was apologetic. ‘I’d love to stay but Mum always has my tea ready when I get home.’
After she left, the flat was quiet and Molly wondered how she would spend the long evening alone. She was glad to be back in the middle of running the agency and tomorrow she would see Maisie, Alice and Deanna and find out how their jobs were coming along. She would also make a point of seeing Edna, and although she wouldn’t ask about John Knox, she hoped it had all been sorted out.
It had only been a month since she had met Vera but it seemed much longer. However, she was glad it was all over, at least for her. She wished she could pop in and see Marigold but it was getting a bit late to catch the Fifie and then get home again, so she settled down with the evening paper and a cup of cocoa before going to bed early with her mystery novel. Before falling asleep, she thought about Peter Walsh and hoped that he would soon be out of hospital.
Dolly Pirie was annoyed. Edna had never mentioned John any of the times she had come to Dolly’s house for a bowl of soup at dinner time. She thought Edna was her friend but she had stayed silent about the man. Well, she thought, if Edna can’t speak about him, then I’m not going to say anything.