The Blackwoods Farm Enquiry (An Ivy Beasley Mystery) (9 page)

WITH A FAVOURITE
programme on television at eight o’clock, Roy said that it would be advisable if they set off at six o’clock after an early supper. He was sure Katya could organise a few sandwiches for them.

“So are we going all the way to the Manor House, or only to have a peep at the windows of Blackwoods Farm?”

“Oh, I think out for an evening stroll in general, as far as La Spurling needs to know. You can say we’re going to hear the blackbirds singing. There are some lovely evening birdcalls around that time.”

“Mm,” said Ivy, “don’t you think she might be suspicious of a sudden interest in ornithology? I think we’ll just tell her we’re going out with our mobile phones, and won’t be gone long. That should do it.”

• • •

MRS. SPURLING WAS
not at all happy. These two most difficult of her residents had now informed her—not asked!—that they would be going out for an evening walk and refused to tell her exactly where they were going and what time they would be back.

And this wedding of theirs coming up again! Thank goodness they seemed to have other things on their minds, and as soon as the ceremony and honeymoon were over, life at Springfields could go back to normal. With luck.

She stood at the door of reception, watching them negotiating the gate and disappearing off in the direction of Manor Road. Perhaps she should have gone with them to ensure their safety? She looked at her watch. It was already past her home-going time, and she turned away to fetch her coat. Home was in the opposite direction from where they had gone, and before she reached her house, she had removed Ivy Beasley and Roy Goodman from the top of her list of priorities.

As they approached Blackwoods Farm, Ivy, who was walking beside Roy’s trundle, stopped, saying her shoe was loose.

“Shoelace come undone,” she said, bending down. “I’ll not be a minute, but it is very dangerous. Might trip me up, and then what would you do?”

“Pick you up, of course. But take your time, my dear. We have a good view of the farmhouse from here.”

Ivy rested her foot on the footplate of the trundle and bent down. Her shoelace was not undone, of course, so she undid it and slowly fiddled with it, having a good look up at the house at the same time.

“The light’s on,” she said in a muffled voice.

“Yes, and the curtains aren’t drawn yet,” said Roy.

“Oh, look, there’s somebody moving about. Can you see who it is?”

As Roy looked fixedly at the window, and Ivy still wrestled with her shoelace, there were suddenly footsteps approaching and then a brisk male voice rang out of the dusk.

“Can I help you? Having problems? I do believe it is my new student, Miss Beasley? And your fiancé, Mr. Goodman? How nice to see you out taking the air. Don’t you love this time of the year? And there’s a barn owl hooting outside the Manor. Wonderful!” It was Rubens, and with him his new tutor, Rickwood Smith.

Ivy had knotted her lace, and now straightened. As she looked up, she noticed the curtains at the lighted window were now drawn across. The tutor was going on about owls and blackbirds, and she hoped Roy had been able to see who had drawn them.

“Well, we’re off to the pub for a quick one,” Smith continued. “Can we tempt you to join us, either or both? The students have been quick to find the local hostelry!”

“Of course not,” snapped Ivy. “We are only on parole, and have to be back in prison in half an hour’s time.”

“Oh, how jolly!” chortled Smith. “Then I look forward to seeing you again soon, Miss Beasley. Good evening to you both!”

Not bothering to wait until he was out of earshot, Ivy said it was bad luck they had to run into them just as a person had appeared at the little window.

“Did you see anything?” she asked Roy, who was trying in vain to tell her to keep her voice down.

“As a matter of fact, yes, dearest. I did see a figure, and as far as I could tell, it was female. But who it was I cannot tell.”

“Turn around then, Roy. We’d better be going back.”

“Not a very useful exercise, I’m afraid,” he said.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she replied. “At least we can tell Deirdre and Gus to find out if Mrs. Blatch smokes cigars. Some women do, you know. Most unwomanly. Still, if that figure you saw was female, it would be worth asking. Deirdre seems to have struck up quite a friendship there, so she could do it.”

• • •

LATER, WHEN THEIR
evening drink had been brought, Ivy took Roy’s hand. “Are you really sure it was female?” she asked.

“Quite sure. Well, almost sure. If the shadow had been a child’s drawing, there was a round head with longish hair, then skinny arms and rounded at the front. We men, you know, Ivy, recognise these things.”

“Then perhaps you men could elaborate a bit more,” Ivy said. “Rounded at the front! Really, Roy, you can do better than that.”

Roy laughed, and protested that it was only a glimpse, and he had told her all he could remember. He looked at Ivy’s bright eyes, and realised that her new venture with the Manor House College had given her an unexpected lift of spirits. What a brave and lovely woman she was!

• • •

MONDAY MORNING, AND
Deirdre had set out pads and pens on the desk in the Enquire Within office. Coffee was simmering away in the pot. She looked at her watch. The others should be here very shortly, and she wondered if they would have anything new to report. Her positive scenting of cigar smoke last time she was at the farm was certainly important, and since talking to Gus, she had had further thoughts. She realised they had more or less decided a lodger or guest was at least visiting Blackwoods. Whether he or she was newly on the scene was not clear.

“Deirdre? Where are you?” The voice was sharp. “You’ve left your front door open, you silly girl! Anybody could come in and steal your silver before you noticed. It’s Ivy, anyway, all ready for the meeting. And Roy, of course,” she said, as she saw Deirdre coming. “He’s parking the trundle.”

“Fine,” said Deirdre. “I was in our office. Are you coming straight in? Coffee’s hot, and there’s new biscuits from the shop. Shall I give Roy a hand?”

“No, thank you. He is quite capable of managing. Is Augustus here yet?”

“Here I am, Ivy,” said Gus, coming in behind her. “You’re in fine form today.”

“As always,” said Ivy.

When they were all settled, Deirdre opened the meeting from her desk, saying she would be glad if Ivy could give them a résumé of the case so far.

“Your memory is so good, Ivy,” she said, “and we all know you can organise your thoughts.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” said Ivy, smiling. Then she gave a succinct account of what they knew about their client, Mrs. Winchen Blatch, and added the latest spotting of a woman at the lighted window of the farmhouse.

“And then,” she said, enjoying the drama,” there’s Rickwood Smith.”

“Who?” chorused Deirdre and Gus.

Ivy once more related how the new tutor at the college had turned out to be a nephew of Mrs. Eleanor Blatch, and what was more, he was staying with his mother, Mary Winchen, who lived in an old person’s bungalow in Spinney Close.

Giving them time to take this in, she sipped her coffee before continuing. “And before you ask, no, they don’t have any contact. A deadly feud between the sisters, apparently, and they have managed to live forever in the same village without mending it. I suggest we leave that for the moment, and get on to the shape at the window of Blackwoods Farm.

“Unfortunately,” she continued, “by the time we had a good look, the curtains had been drawn and only a shape appeared. A shape which my dear Roy is quite certain was that of a woman. And before you ask him how he was so sure, he muttered to me something about bosoms. But I am sure he will tell you more.”

“Good man,” said Gus, smiling at Roy. “Anything to add?”

“Not really. I don’t know if it was in any way important, but at the point where we were looking at the window, out of nowhere appeared Rubens and Rickwood Smith, the new tutor from the Manor House College. Rubens was at his jauntiest, and tried to persuade us to go to the pub with him.”

“We refused, of course,” said Ivy.

“Naturally,” said Gus. “Now, Deirdre, time to tell what you discovered.”

“Well, last time I went up to see Eleanor Blatch, we got on well. I think she trusts me. Anyway, while we were chatting, I noticed a familiar smoky smell. My Bert used to love those small cigars, and that was it. Same lovely smell, drifting in from another room somewhere in the house. Eleanor claimed she could smell nothing, but it was quite strong. So that’s another time one of us has smelt it. When I asked her if she’d thought recently of having a lodger, maybe a young person who could be useful to her, she reacted against it very firmly. Said she was much happier living alone, and changed the subject immediately.”

“Interesting,” said Gus. “What do you think, Ivy?”

“Well, since you ask me, I would say that she’s not to be trusted. I wouldn’t believe a word she says. I’m sorry about that, Deirdre, because I know you like her, but there it is. I think this new factor, Mary Winchen and son, puts her in a different light. She was very flighty in the past, and won’t have changed all that much.”

“Maybe, dearest,” said Roy. “But I’m afraid the fact that she was flighty in her youth has nothing to do with it.”

THE MEETING HAD
finally ended, after much disagreement between Ivy and Deirdre on the true character of Eleanor Blatch. The four had come out from the office and the trundle was ready for the off, when Deirdre’s house telephone rang.

“Hang on, chaps!” she shouted as she ran in to answer it. “Probably someone trying to sell me double glazing!”

“More likely an assignation with the squire,” muttered Ivy to Roy. He smiled. “Lucky fellow,” he said.

But when Deirdre came out after five minutes, she looked pale and worried. “Better come back in for a bit,” she said, helping Roy to dismount. “That was Eleanor, and she was in a panic. I said we’d help, so can we have a quick session?”

“Not an immediate emergency, then?” said Ivy.

“Not absolutely immediate, but she was very upset,” Deirdre answered, frowning at Ivy.

When they were perching on chairs in the sitting room, Deirdre explained. “Well, she got up late this morning. Overslept, feeling safe for the first time for months, she said.”

“Get on with it, Deirdre, said Ivy.

“Well, you know she has these chickens and they’re like children to her. All got names, and that kind of thing? Well, apparently she’d forgotten to shut them up last night, though she swears she didn’t. Anyway, being bantams, they could fly, and all but one had flown up into a tree. All but one, and there was no trace of it.”

There was an uncertain silence, during which Ivy folded her hands in her lap and looked fixedly at the floor.

“So, she’d more than likely forgotten to shut them up last night? And a fox had taken one?” Gus could see that Roy was having trouble nudging Ivy into attention.

“And a fox could have come back for the rest. Foxes do that. It might come back tonight. She is very upset,” Deirdre repeated.

“I’m afraid I agree with Deirdre,” said Ivy, to the surprise of the others. “Anybody could get into the yard and slide open the hen door. And nobody is going to believe that she
did
shut them up. This is a very nasty way of causing alarm to a defenceless woman, and since it could mean other similar tricks could happen, we have to speed up our enquiries. Meanwhile, Deirdre, if you are going up to see her now, I should suggest to her that she find some reputable person to lodge with her, if only for a short time, until we, and of course the police, have sorted it all out.”

Deirdre managed a wobbly smile at Ivy, and said that she would certainly do that, and maybe Ivy would like to come with her? “The two of us might reassure her. What do you think, Gus?”

“Good thinking, Dee-Dee. Poor woman needs some support right now. What a pity her sister can’t help her. Why don’t you and Ivy go up to Blackwoods in your car, and I’ll walk with Roy and his trundle back to Springfields.”

• • •

ON THEIR WAY
up Manor Road to the farm, Ivy and Deirdre discussed what could be done straight away for Mrs. Blatch.

“I could invite her to stay with me for a few days,” Deirdre said.

“You might never get rid of her,” Ivy replied. “Don’t advise that one. No, but I think she might agree to your staying with her for a night or two, until she feels braver. What do you think?”

“Um, yes,” Deirdre said hesitantly. “Er, I suppose that would be all right. I could kip down on a camp bed or something, to be there during the night. But what about the dark chamber? Suppose there
is
someone in there, coming and going via the fire escape? That someone might not feel too kindly towards me. Come to that, why won’t that mysterious lodger, if he exists, do for a reassuring presence in the house?”

Ivy did not answer, pleased that Deirdre was seeing sense, and not being too carried away by her new friendship. “Come on, gel,” she said. “Let’s go and see if she’s handing out chicken pie.”

They walked round into the farmyard, and saw that the remaining bantams were all down from the trees, and Eleanor Blatch had fed and watered them. She burst into tears when she saw Deirdre, and thanked them profusely for coming round so quickly.

“All part of Enquire Within service,” said Ivy firmly. “Now, why don’t we all have a nice cup of tea and talk about what’s happened to you.”

Deirdre did not have much longer to think about her plan to move in for a day or two. Eleanor told them once more how she was sure she shut up all the hens, having counted them in, and this morning she found the door open and the rest up a tree. “They looked scared to death!” she said.

How can you tell what a chicken is thinking? Ivy was already sceptical. Then Eleanor continued, “If I paid a suitable fee, Miss Beasley, do you think Deirdre, I mean Mrs. Bloxham, would come and sleep overnight here? I could make a spare bedroom very acceptable, and it would tide me over this horrible panicky feeling.”

Deirdre was frowning again, and willing Ivy to refuse, but then Ivy nodded and said she was sure that would be okay. However it would have to be an Enquire Within decision, with all partners agreeing. “We have never undertaken this kind of task, you understand,” she said. “We can let you know later today, in time for you to make other arrangements if Mrs. Bloxham is unable to do this.”

At this, Deirdre opened her mouth to speak, but Ivy jumped in and said that they must be going in order to have an emergency meeting. They would be in touch, she said, and more or less pushed Deirdre out of the door.

“Ivy!” said Deirdre, as they drove off. “How could you? Poor woman. I shall go back there this evening. We don’t need to ask the others.”

“Chairman’s orders,” said Ivy. “No such decisions to be made by individual board members. First we go and ask Gus, and then we can get Roy’s reaction when you take me back to Springfields.”

Secretly relieved, having thought twice about the creepy old farmhouse and the dark chamber, Deirdre did as she was told and drove down Hangman’s Lane to find Gus.

When he heard what they had to say, he stood masterfully over Deirdre, who was sitting on the edge of a rickety chair, biting her nails.

“I’ve had a better idea,” he said. “I shall go instead of Deirdre. I’ve met far more dangerous moments in my life than a confrontation with an unpleasant prankster. No, Deirdre, no arguments, I shall go this evening. Mrs. Blatch and I will watch television together, then retire to our separate beds, armed to the teeth. She might even talk to me about her sister. All fixed.”

• • •

WHEN DEIRDRE HELPED
Ivy out of her car and went with her into Springfields, Roy met them at the lounge door, looking anxious. They gave him the bare bones of Mrs. Blatch’s request, and he looked even more anxious.

“Relax, Roy,” said Deirdre. “Gus is going to do it. He’ll start tonight at Blackwoods Farm and report back to us tomorrow. I must say I’m relieved, and I’m sure Ivy is, too. Maybe a coward’s way out, from my point of view, but I think it is the sensible solution.”

Mrs. Spurling appeared, hands on hips. “May I be permitted to ask if Mr. Goodman and Miss Beasley will be in for lunch?” she said, tight-lipped.

“Of course we will,” said Ivy. “If we weren’t, we would have told you earlier, as usual. Now, you two, come along in, and let’s get Roy up to date.”

“Yes, indeed,” said Roy. “I need to know for a start if you formulated any opinion on what we do next. Apart from Deirdre going to stay with Mrs. Blatch overnight? I did take one step by myself, and hope it will be approved.”

“What are you talking about, my dear?” said Ivy.

“Oops, sorry, Ivy!” he answered with a smile. “I took it on myself, and I hope you won’t mind, and I gave the police a ring about the hens. They were not too impressed, and said that Mrs. Blatch had already informed them. They were, of course, carrying out enquiries, ho ho.”

“As Deirdre is about to remind you, Roy,” announced Ivy, “even small actions like one hen going missing are trivial to us, but a disaster to Eleanor Blatch. Of course you did the right thing.” She patted his arm, pecked his cheek and said she did not know what they would do without him.