Billy made a tutting noise of disapproval at another poster.
The New Armies… More men are needed at once, it said. What provoked Billy’s disapproval were the statements at the bottom of the poster that said Enlist for the period of the War… Standards have been lowered.
“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed. “Lowered to what?”
“As long as you can walk and breathe at the same time, probably,” commented Tollman sourly.
“Perhaps they’d take me back then,” Billy grinned.
Tollman looked alarmed. “You’ve done your bit, lad. The work here is just as important. Don’t get any ideas about taking yourself off back to that hellhole again, or I shall take it very personally. You stay here, where I can keep an eye on you. You make a bloody good policeman and they’re going to be hard to find when this war is over.”
The afternoon dragged on. There was no signal from the woman behind the counter. Billy was hungry and Tollman needed a mug of tea, so they were thankful when the post office closed its doors finally and they could walk briskly down past Buckingham Palace and back to the house in Mayfair.
In the study, Beech and Victoria had actually drawn up a giant map of the layout of Russell Square on the back of an old roll of wallpaper they had dug out of the attic rooms. It showed every last bench, statue and flower bed and they had pinned it up on an old easel – another remnant of Victoria’s childhood from the attic. Tollman was impressed. He liked detail.
“It’s probably not to scale,” apologised Victoria.
Tollman smiled. “It doesn’t matter, Mrs E. You’ve done a smashing job.”
Lady Maud came in, bearing a tray of jars of pickles, followed by Mary carrying plates of sandwiches.
“I’m afraid it’s only ham and cheese,” she said. “But as supper won’t be until eight, I felt that there may be some need of sustenance.”
Billy restrained himself from falling upon the food immediately, but he was so hungry he felt he could eat both plates by himself. Fortunately, Mrs Beddowes had anticipated Billy Rigsby’s appetite and entered pushing a trolley with further plates of sandwiches and a large pot of tea. Tollman sighed with pleasure. If only he could take his shoes off and put his feet up, he thought, life would be perfect.
Caroline came in and immediately made Tollman envious by slipping off her shoes and curling her legs up on the sofa in an unladylike manner.
“Mabel should be here any moment,” she announced. “She says she has something to show us. Did you bring the perambulator down, by the way?” she asked Beech.
“Blast! I forgot! Rigsby, would you be so kind as to run upstairs and fetch the perambulator? You know where it is. Good chap,” Beech said as Billy sprang to his feet and disappeared out of the door.
As soon as Billy had bumped the perambulator down the last step and into the hallway, the front door bell rang, so he opened the door and was astonished to see the trio of Mabel Summersby, his mum and his aunt, who seemed to be getting along like a house on fire.
“I didn’t know you were coming!” he said in amazement as the ladies stepped in to the house. Mabel hung back, smiling, as the other two women made a fuss of Billy.
“Mr Beech called us,” said Sissy breathlessly. “Said he wanted all the team together.”
“Fancy!” added Elsie. “Me and Sis! Part of a police team! We’ll be making arrests next!”
Billy laughed and opened the door to the study.
“Acting policewomen Elsie Rigsby, Sissy Bates and Mabel Summersby,” he announced loudly, with a flourish, and Caroline led a round of applause.
“Daft ’aporth!” murmured Elsie to her son. She and Sissy were flushed with pleasure to be part of the team.
Everyone found seats, Lady Maud introduced herself to an overawed Sissy and exhorted everyone to help themselves to sandwiches and tea, and then they all subsided into respectful silence as Beech outlined his plan for tomorrow.
“Firstly, ladies, may I say how much I value you being part of this operation,” Beech began. “But I need to tell you now that you are there for two reasons only. One, to make the square look as normal as possible by having women in various guises doing various things, so it is not just full of men, which would look suspicious. Two, you are there to identify the blackmailer and could be called upon to speak about that identification in court. Let me stress that on no account are you to involve yourself in any interaction with the suspect – that is apart from Lady Maud, who has to play the part of a victim. Do you understand me, ladies? Involvement only at a distance. We do not want to have to worry about the safety of anyone except Lady Maud.”
The women all nodded their heads.
“Right,” Beech continued. “Now, Tollman and Rigsby will be in charge of two groups of police officers that we have borrowed from H Division. We don’t know why the blackmailer chose Russell Square but it could be that it is close to home, in which case it seemed advisable not to use policemen from the local area, as they may be recognised. So we are bringing them in from Whitechapel and… this should be right up your street, Tollman… you are all going to be dressed as gardeners and will be tending the flower beds. The local council have been advised and they are providing tools etcetera, but they have asked us please not to make too much mess. So, gardening clothes for you men.”
Tollman winked at Sissy, which was noticed by Elsie, who raised amused and questioning eyebrows at her sister.
“Now,” Beech carried on. “Ladies. You will all have your roles to play. Firstly, Mabel, I believe you have something to show us?”
“Oh, yes.” Mabel began fumbling in her holdall and produced a small black oblong about the size of her hand, with brass circles on the front and top.
“What is it?” asked Caroline.
“It’s a camera,” explained Mabel, opening up the plate over the lens. “It’s a Leica handheld camera that uses thirty-five-millimetre film rolls. I bought it in 1913 when they first came out. It’s awfully useful for taking pictures outdoors without any of the paraphernalia of a big camera and tripod. It’s German. Sorry.” She felt she needed to apologise.
“What, that little thing takes proper pictures?” Billy was amazed. “It’s even smaller than a Box Brownie,” he said, referring to the portable cardboard box camera that was so beloved by the troops at the Front.
“Yes, it takes quite good pictures actually. But you need to be about twelve feet in front of your subject for the best quality.”
Beech interjected. “Mabel here is going to be a nursery nurse, wheeling her charge around the park in a perambulator – with the camera secreted inside, so that she can pause and take pictures of the blackmailer without taking the camera out of the perambulator. That is the idea, isn’t it, Mabel?”
“In theory, it should work. As long as the lens is not obstructed.”
“So, no one will realise that you are taking a picture?” Victoria was impressed.
“No,” Mabel replied. “I should be able to lean over the perambulator, as though tending to the infant, and press the switch to take the picture. If I get the angle right, it should work well. But I need to have a practice.”
“We’ll do that in a moment, Mabel.” Beech wanted to finish his organisation of the team. “Now, Mrs Rigsby, I am concerned that if the blackmailer does turn out to be this Mrs Leighton who runs the sewing circle, then she will recognise you. But I think we should continue the fiction that you are Lady Maud’s maid and you should accompany her but be sent off shopping before she enters the square. Anyone watching from a distance would find this quite normal.”
Elsie was disappointed at not being in the thick of things, but she tried not to show it.
Beech continued his plan. “Sissy, I was wondering if you could walk that splendid dog… Timmy?” Sissy nodded. “If you could walk him around the square, stopping occasionally to sit on a bench, or perhap
s play with him?”
“Oh, Timmy’ll love that,” said Elsie, and Sissy smiled.
“And finally, Victoria, Caroline and I will sit on the grass and pretend to have a picnic. Rug, basket and all that.”
Everyone understood the roles that they were to play and nodded agreement.
“Finally,” – Beech wanted to wrap everything up – “we know of three blackmail victims who have been asked to turn up at Russell Square tomorrow. It is possible that there could be more, as we only had a copy of the details of the last page of Adeline Treborne’s book. Therefore, we need to assemble in Russell Square, gradually, from about nine in the morning. I have written down a timetable of when each person should arrive.” Beech handed out a list to everyone of timings, which showed the ladies arriving at fifteen-minute intervals, starting with Mabel, who would be first.
“Needless to say, but I shall say it, the blackmailer could very well be a murderer as well. We do not know whether Adeline Treborne self-administered the drugs that killed her or whether someone else gave them to her.” He noted that Maud had begun to fan herself, as though she were unbearably hot, and he felt a pang of concern.
“Maud,” he said gently, “if you feel that this is too much for you to cope with, then let someone stand in for you. The blackmailer doesn’t know what you look like and we can swap around roles between the ladies.”
“Good gracious, no!” Lady Maud was outraged at the suggestion that she could not play her part. “I am confident that you and your men will protect me. Good Lord! I only have to hand over some money, for goodness sake! The question is whether I can restrain myself from slapping the Leighton woman’s face!”
Her response made everyone laugh and then general chatter broke out, while Billy took the large teapot downstairs to get it refilled and the remaining sandwiches were mopped up.
Elsie, Sissy and Tollman departed, with Sissy murmuring about giving Timmy a bath when they got home. Elsie gave her a funny look.
“You’re going to walk him round the park tomorrow,” she said acidly, “not offer him as a model for Pears Soap posters.”
Sissy decided to ignore her. Mr Tollman waved cheerily as he walked off down the road and the two women waved back.
“Nice man,” observed Elsie. “Seems to have taken a fancy to you.”
Sissy blushed and muttered, “Don’t be daft.”
Elsie allowed a small sardonic smile to play about her lips. “I bet you a penny he winks at you tomorrow in the park.” She knew she was right.
Back at the house, Mabel spent about an hour creating a little platform for her camera inside the perambulator, using an old soap dish and some wire she had produced from her holdall. Then she spent a further half hour making minute adjustments to the angle of the platform and cutting a lens-sized hole in the fabric of the perambulator hood. Victoria produced an ancient doll from up in the attic rooms, plus her old nurse’s uniform and some blankets to put in the perambulator.
“What an incredibly ugly doll,” murmured Caroline, staring into the depths of the baby carriage. “I do hope no one stops you, Mabel, and asks to look at the baby. They’d get a shock if they did.”
“Don’t worry,” Mabel replied, “I shall model myself on my old nanny and be very fierce. No one will want to speak to me or view the infant, I promise.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Under the Duke of Bedford’s Gaze
It was a fine July morning and there was a heavy dew, as Billy found out when he decided to sit on the grass and take in the surroundings. He sighed as he put a hand on the big wet patch on the seat of his trousers and stood up again. Tollman chuckled.
The policemen from Whitechapel were beginning to assemble at the north-western corner, as they had been instructed. Tollman decided he would wait until the full dozen were there before he went over and introduced himself.
Billy looked around. It was a big square, not one that he recalled ever having visited, and it was larger than he had anticipated. Everything was in its full summer glory and he realised that they would have to get quite close to the southern end of the square, where the statue was, in order to be within striking distance.
Finally, the twelfth man appeared to have arrived, as well as a horse and cart loaded with spades, hoes, scythes and buckets of plants.
“Right,” said Tollman briskly. “The men and the council wagon are here. Let’s go, lad.”
Billy and Tollman marched up to the assembled men and introduced themselves, and they all set about unloading the garden tools and plants from the cart. Tollman was given a key and shown where the maintenance shed was in the square. “Leave the tools there, when you’ve finished,” the man said. “We’ll pick ’em up tomorrow.”
Tollman led the crew down through the lime walk to the shrubbery on the south-west of the square and gathered them around.
“The suspect will be conducting business on that bench there, opposite the statue. The Chief Inspector says that we are not to apprehend the suspect until after the 11.30 appointment. He will give me the signal to move. Obviously, if something goes wrong before that time, I will give you a shout to move, so be alert. Meantime, we have to look busy. The council said we can dig over the bed in front of the shrubbery, here and the one opposite, and plant these flowers. Anyone from Whitechapel know anything about gardening?”
Two of the men raised their hands. “Right, you two are in charge over there. Take five other men and make a start on the flower bed. Best work slowly, lads, we could be here a long time today.”
So, they began to dig. Other people began to come into the park – some just passing through, some sitting on benches to meet others or just rest.
“What do we do about the public getting in the way?” asked Billy.
“Nothing we can do, lad,” was Tollman’s reply. “We can’t close the square, because we need the blackmailer to have free movement. We just have to hope that we can work round it. Just keep your eyes peeled.”
The first lady to arrive was Mabel Summersby, looking every inch the efficient nursery nurse in her uniform, pushing along the perambulator slowly. She came in at the north-western entrance and slowly traversed the giant horseshoe-shaped path that led down to the Duke of Bedford statue. About three-quarters of the way down the path, she stopped, sat down on a bench, took a book out of the perambulator and started reading. Billy smiled, wondering how she had fared with loading the baby carriage into a taxicab and whether the cabbie had caught sight of the porcelain ‘baby’ and thought she was probably a madwoman.
Fifteen minutes later, Beech arrived with Caroline on one arm and carrying a picnic basket and rug in the other hand.
“Well, don’t they look like they’re off to Henley Regatta,” said Tollman flippantly, remarking on Beech’s natty straw boater and Caroline’s flowery frock, hat and parasol.
“Where’s Mrs E, then?” asked Billy, suddenly anxious.
Tollman pulled a disapproving face. “Billy, if you’d have read the timetable properly, you’d know she isn’t due to arrive for another fifteen minutes.”
“Sorry,” Billy mumbled.
Beech looked around and noted the men in position, digging and weeding, then he spread out the rug near a tree a good fifty yards from the statue, and he and Caroline sat down.
“I’d better sit facing the statue,” Beech said, “as I need to see what’s happening.”
When Victoria arrived, in an equally fetching summer outfit, she joined them on the picnic rug. “Anything happened yet?”
Beech shook his head and Victoria sat down on the rug. Caroline opened the basket, in which she had secreted her medical bag, in case of emergencies. She groped around underneath and produced a thermos flask. “Tea, anyone?” she said with a smile.
When Sissy arrived with Timmy, her heart was pounding, but as she came in the south-eastern entrance, she saw the
reassuring presence of Billy and she began to relax. Unfortunately, Timmy also spotted Billy and yanked the lead from Sissy’s hand as he made a bolt for one of his favourite people with a series of excited yelps. He flung himself at Billy, who was crouched down, and licked him furiously all over.
Tollman grabbed the squirming terrier and, with a confused Timmy in his arms, he marched over to Sissy and said loudly, “Kindly keep your dog under control, madam!” and gave her a broad wink.
“Yes, of course, I’m so sorry,” said a flustered Sissy. Damn, she thought. I’ve just lost a bet with Elsie about Mr Tollman giving me a wink in the park. So, with Timmy’s lead firmly in her grasp, she continued along the path, dragging behind her a reluctant dog, who didn’t understand why he couldn’t go and play with Billy.
Nothing happened for a while but then Tollman spotted a young woman coming up the lime walk.
“Billy!” he hissed, “get behind the tree, quick!” Billy obeyed and Tollman swiftly joined him. “We’ve got a problem,” he continued. “That’s Lily, Adeline Treborne’s maid. She can recognise us – and Mr Beech and Mrs E, too.”
“Bloody hell! What’s she doing here?”
“It looks like she may be our blackmailer,” said Tollman grimly, as they both watched Lily sit down on the bench opposite the Duke of Bedford’s statue.
Beech had spotted her too. “Victoria, cover your face with your parasol,” he said urgently, as he bent his head down, hoping his straw boater would obscure his face.
“What is it?” asked Caroline.
“The woman sitting on the bench by the statue is the live-out maid of Adeline Treborne,” said Beech, head still bowed.
Victoria was aghast. Suspecting Lily had never entered into their deductions. “Are you sure it’s her?”
“Absolutely.”
“Perhaps it’s a coincidence,” Caroline ventured.
Beech shook his head. “No, I think that would be stretching the bounds of reality too far.”
A Death in Chelsea Page 20
