The Hangman's Row Enquiry (31 page)

“Don’t blame her,” muttered Deirdre into Gus’s ear as they came down the narrow stairs. There were holes in the stair carpet, and she stepped carefully, holding on tight to the sticky banister.

Finally, they were out into the fresh air, and Deirdre took long, deep breaths, as they walked back towards the centre of the town. “Phew! I think I would’ve passed out if we’d been in there much longer. Was it worth it, Gus? Did we learn anything? I could hardly think in that dreadful atmosphere.”

“Oh, yes,” Gus said smugly. “We learned something. I tell you what, when we get back to the car I’ll explain it all in words of one syllable to you and Ivy and Roy.”

As they approached the car park, Deirdre was relieved to see Ivy and Roy safely in the back of the car. “Well, at least they can’t have strayed far,” she said. She opened the door and was thankful for the scent of lavender water and subtle aftershave. “All well?” she said. They looked at each other and nodded. “Yes, thank you,” said Ivy. “We managed very well. How about you two?”

Gus said they should all relax and have the picnic lunch, and then he would tell them about their interesting morning.

Deirdre poured out the coffee, and handed round the sandwiches on small disposable plates. She had remembered paper napkins, and Ivy used hers to dab the corners of her mouth in the genteel fashion taught to her by her mother long ago.

“We shall be swimming in coffee!” she said to Roy.

“Did you find a nice café?” Deirdre said.

They nodded. “Warm and pleasant,” said Ivy. “And we had doughnuts.” “Two each,” Roy added. “So,” continued Ivy, brushing the crumbs off her lap, “tell all.”

Gus then recounted their morning’s work, from discovering Jessop in the telephone directory to meeting the man himself in his sordid surroundings, and finally gleaning a useful piece of information.

“So,” he said, “all we have to do is find his sister, the former Miss Jessop who married a Bentall.”

“If she exists,” said Deirdre doubtfully.

“Oh, she does exist,” Ivy said, producing her surprise rabbit from the hat. “We’ve met her.”

 

AS THE BIG car rolled along the main road back to Barrington, Gus spelled it all out for them. “Buster’s daughter Caroline had twins by a man as yet unknown. They were adopted and she returned home. Later, she married one of the Jessops, but a different branch from our old man. Caroline’s Jessop was unsuitable and violent. They had a girl baby, and Caroline was cut off by her parents. She retrieved her girl twin from foster parents and left the boy with them. No trace of him yet. Are you with me, everyone?”

Ivy nodded firmly, and Roy dare not say he was lost already. Deirdre said that Gus was explaining well, and to carry on.

“So,” he said patiently, “we have Caroline and husband Jessop, with illegitimate girl twin and legitimate girl baby. From what we already know, Beattie was almost certainly the girl twin, and we don’t know what happened to the legit girl. Clear as mud,” said Roy, but added that he’d get the hang of it later. Ivy would help him.

“By the way,” Ivy said casually. “We got her address and phone number. Lonely sort of woman, and we got on famously. She wants us to go and visit.”

“Brilliant!” said Deirdre, pulling up outside Springfields. “Can we come, too?”

“Of course not,” Ivy said severely. “She’s not that lonely.”

“HELLO, IS THAT Beattie? Miriam here.”

“Good morning!” said Beattie, forcing enthusiasm into her voice. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” she said. “I was just ringing to see if you would like to have a cup of tea with me tomorrow afternoon?”

There was a pause, as Beattie thought rapidly how this would fall in with her plans.

“Well,” she said, “I usually go to market on Saturday afternoons. . . .”

“Of course!” Miriam said. “I’d forgotten that. How about Sunday afternoon? That must be your day off!”

“Day off? What’s that?” said Beattie. “But no, I would love to come tomorrow, thanks. Market day in town is not what it used to be, and I’ve been thinking of dropping it for some time now.”

“Oh, good. Shall we say half three?”

“I’ll look forward to it,” said Beattie. After she put down the telephone, she sat for a while thinking out just exactly what she would do. First decision: say nothing about tea with Miriam to Theo. Let him think she would be off to market at her usual time, and tell him at the last minute about the change of plan.

 

IVY SANK GRATEFULLY into her comfortable bed and lay awake reviewing the day’s events. She and Roy had returned safely with Deirdre, and Miss Pinkney had welcomed them back, saying Mrs. Spurling had gone home with a bad headache. She had said cheerfully that Miss Beasley and Mr. Goodman looked much refreshed after their outing, and arranged a tray of tea for them all in Ivy’s room. They tried to map out what they would do next, but Ivy and Roy were tired, so the others had gone home, promising to think it all out ready for the meeting on Monday. Meanwhile, arrangements would be as usual for Deirdre to go to the Hall tomorrow afternoon to see Theo. And yes, she promised, this time she would be able to ask him all the necessary questions.

“I shall be prepared with some new ones, too, after today,” she said happily.

THE KITCHEN AT the Hall was always warm, sometimes too warm in summer, when Beattie had the Aga turned up high for cooking. This morning, the weather had changed and a sharp wind blew around the stable yard.

“Lunch at the usual time?” said Theo, back to the Aga, warming himself. The Hall was a draughty old place, and he remembered his father doing exactly the same thing when his mother took over the cooking on staff days off. Perhaps Beattie should have a day off? He had never thought of this before. She was always so much in charge that he had just assumed she organised her free time to suit herself.

“Beattie,” he said now. “Why don’t you have a day off tomorrow? I can manage perfectly well. You can take the car. Maybe you could look up old friends in Oakbridge. Or explore the National Trust place nearby? I believe they’ve done a lot of work there. It would do you good,” he continued, “you’ve been looking a little peaky lately.”

And no wonder, thought Beattie. You try being up against a conspiracy! But she thanked him politely and said it was a good idea, but not tomorrow as she would need to make arrangements. Perhaps next Sunday. She would give it some thought.

After lunch, Theo wandered once more into the kitchen, sure that Rose Budd would be here any moment. To his dismay, he found Beattie, still in her working clothes, reading the newspaper. Usually at this time on Saturdays she had cleared away dishes, changed and tidied herself ready for market. He looked at his watch.

“Beattie!” he said. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m fine, thank you, Mr. Theo. Oh yes, of course, that reminds me,” she said. “I shan’t be going into town this afternoon. You’ll remember I said how disappointing the market is these days. I thought I’d give it a miss today. Plenty of food in the larder, so we shan’t starve.”

She was delighted with his reaction, which could only be described as one of complete panic.

“But Rosebud? Won’t she be expecting to come?”

Beattie shook her head. “I gave her a ring just now. She’s quite happy about it. In fact, she sounded rather relieved and said how much she had to do at home. Rang off quite quickly, saying she’d tackle the ironing straightaway.”

“I see,” Theo said. “Well, it’s your decision.” He left the kitchen at a trot, and Beattie chuckled quietly to herself. Wonderful. Now, if she had timed it correctly, Deirdre Bloxham would be on her way.

 

IVY HAD WOKEN with the pain in her back returned. Mrs. Spurling said the wind was very cold this morning, and advised Ivy to stay in the warm. “We have a lovely lady coming in to play the piano for a sing-song,” she had said. “I am sure you and Mr. Goodman will love the old songs.”

As Ivy was well aware that a frog in full croak was more tuneful than her singing voice, she said she thought she would stay in her own room. She had a novel she wanted to finish before the library van came to the village next week. Then she had rung Deirdre to see if it was vital this time for her to sit outside the shop in the cold wind just to see Beatrice Beatty safely on the bus. Deirdre had said straightaway that she was sure all would go as before, and she must stay in the warm. She had not thought it necessary to tell Gus, and concentrated on making herself as attractive as possible.

Gus had forgotten to check on Beattie going off down the lane, but consoled himself that Ivy would be there to play her part as before. He kept a watch at the window, waiting for the car to go by, and smiled to himself as he saw Deirdre wave to him as she passed.

 

BEATTIE ALSO SAW the Rolls as it swept into the stable yard and Deirdre got out. She waited out of sight until there was a confident knocking. She paused for a few seconds, and then she opened the door.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Bloxham. Can I help you?” she said, presiding confidently over her territory. Deirdre’s expression was one of the most gratifying things she had ever seen.

“AREN’T YOU FEELING well, Mrs. Bloxham?” Beattie said, with mock concern. “You look as if you have seen a ghost. Do come in and sit down in my warm kitchen.”

Said the spider to the fly, she added to herself.

“No, no, I shall be fine in a moment,” Deirdre said, “I think someone just walked over my grave!” She made a brave attempt at a laugh, trying to organise her thoughts.

“I insist,” said Beattie, taking her arm as if to help her up the steps. “Mr. Theo is very busy this afternoon, but I am sure he would be glad to see you in about half an hour’s time. He is trying to finish an important letter in time for the post. Now, come along in, and I shall make you a nice hot cup of tea. I’ve been baking, and you shall have one of my special biscuits.”

Deirdre did indeed feel a little shocked, and allowed Beattie to lead her to a seat at the kitchen table. Something had clearly gone wrong with their plans, and she supposed it must be that Ivy was not at her post, and therefore could not have raised the alarm.

“I had not expected to see Mr. Theo,” she said now, her voice stronger. She could bluff this one out, and nothing would be the worse for it. Just a delay, that would be all, until next week. They would have to be more careful. She wondered what Beattie had told Theo. Surely he should have been able to make a quick warning call to Tawny Wings? She knew he had had the telephones fixed so that Beattie couldn’t listen in.

“Have you come to see me, then?” Beattie said, pouring boiling water into a warmed teapot. “What can I do for you?”

“It was about the Women’s Institute,” improvised Deirdre, then thought, oh my God, what could I possibly want to know about the WI? “I was thinking of joining,” she said, gaining confidence, “and I know you have been a member for years. Perhaps you could give me an idea of the kind of things you do?” If I have to go once a year with my single rose for the competition it won’t do me any harm, she told herself.