by Anna Jacobs
Standing in the shadows between lampposts, he smiled as he thought about it. He knew who had murdered Red Moira and was probably the only one who did, because you couldn’t make sense of what the idiot said.
This was his big chance in life and he intended to make the most of it. He’d get a lot of money out of Rathley for keeping quiet, enough to set himself up for life. Though he’d move away as soon as he had it, so that the sod couldn’t arrange to have him killed, too. He might or might not take Doris with him.
No one cared much when a whore got herself killed, but a rich man would care very much about being hanged for her murder. How much exactly would he care? A hundred pounds’ worth? Two hundred? A thousand even?
The mere thought of the money sent a happy shiver down Hobbs’s spine.
21
T ess flung herself on her mother’s body, but the policeman pulled her off. She couldn’t believe Mam was dead, couldn’t stop sobbing. Then she began to wonder what life would be like without the woman who’d loved and cherished her all her life. What would she do?
Life would be empty, that’s what. Empty. As if she were on her own in a big, echoing room and didn’t know which way to turn.
Who could have done this? Rathley? Surely not. But who else could it have been?
Why hadn’t Donny stopped him?
And who was going to save Tess from him now. Her mother’s cunning but false promises had been the only thing keeping him at bay for a couple of years.
When the sergeant arrived, it took him a while to calm the poor girl down enough to answer questions about her mother, but nothing she said could throw any light on the situation.
Then one question the policeman asked made her suddenly pay greater attention.
‘Do you think Donny killed her, lass?’
‘ Donny? No, impossible. He adored her. She saved him from some lads beating him up and looked after him from then onwards. And he looked after her in return. He might have hit someone who tried to hurt her, but he’d never harm her .’
‘You’re sure of that?’
‘Oh, yes. Absolutely sure. I’d stake my life on it.’
Sergeant Deemer studied Tess. He believed her. Let alone her words had the ring of truth, his many years of experience told him that the large, moon-faced man sitting sobbing in the kitchen wasn’t violent and hadn’t committed a violent crime, even by accident.
The trouble was, the sergeant couldn’t imagine that most other people would believe Donny innocent, especially the new district inspector, who was an arrogant sod and seemed to think he knew everything about a valley he only visited occasionally. Everyone knew Donny acted as Moira’s protector. Who else could have got near her?
There was one important piece of evidence that Deemer could bear witness to personally, though: there was no blood on Donny’s hands or clothes, not one drop, though the body had clearly been moved and there was a lot of blood on the rug. But would that be enough to save the poor chap?
As far as Deemer could work out from looking at the scene, Moira had fallen face down after being stabbed, and then been turned over. And there was a smear of blood on the rug next to her, not a splash but a smear, as if someone’s hand had brushed the rug as he handled the body.
Just then the undertaker arrived to collect the body, and he had to take Tess into the kitchen while they did what they had to. She was so upset, he didn’t probe further. He had his own thoughts about the situation, but he had to have proof to do anything about them.
‘Can I go with her?’ she asked.
‘There’s nothing you can do for her now.’ He didn’t mention that they might have to carry out an autopsy. It seemed obvious how Moira had been killed but the magistrate might want something else checking. You could never tell with magistrates.
He stood between Tess and the door into the front room and only after they’d carried away the body did he let her leave the kitchen.
There wasn’t only her to think about. There was Donny. The more he thought about it, the more he worried that if he left the poor chap free to roam the streets, other people would cause trouble and shout things out at him, or worse. Donny was slow-witted and would have to be shut away and looked after somewhere safe, for his own good. The trouble was, there was nowhere for folk like him in the valley.
He went to the door and watched the undertaker’s van move away, then turned to the constable. ‘We’ll look after Donny at the police station till we find out what happened. He’s so upset, he doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing.’
‘Donny won’t make sense for days,’ Tess put in. ‘When he gets this upset, it takes him a long time to calm down. Only my mother could soothe him.’
‘Will he listen to you?’
She wiped away more tears and sniffed, fumbling in vain for a handkerchief, so he gave her his.
‘He might listen to me. But what would I tell him?’
‘Well, first I want you to ask him if he saw who did it.’
She followed the sergeant back into the kitchen where Donny was huddled in his corner, rocking to and fro, covering his head with his hands. ‘Donny, listen to me. Listen. Shh now.’
When she tried to hold his hand, to comfort him, he pushed it away, and howled like a dog, shouting, ‘She’s dead. He killed her. She’s dead.’
The sergeant gave up. That was all they’d been able to get him to say, over and over again, the same few words, the same howls of anguish. Who was the man Donny was talking about? Why would someone have killed Moira? She’d kept herself to herself and given him and his police constable no trouble, in spite of what she did for a living.
He took the lass back into the front room because Donny was still sobbing and moaning in the kitchen. ‘Have you got any relatives you can go to, Tess? I know there aren’t any close ones, but would you have distant relatives who could take you in? You can’t stay here, especially on your own. Apart from the fact that you’re only a child, the murderer might come back.’
Tess looked at him numbly, finding it hard to concentrate because she kept wondering whether to tell him that Rathley had called that evening. But she didn’t want anything to do with him , and anyway, what reason would a rich man like him have to kill her mother? She felt as if her head was full of cotton wool, couldn’t decide about anything.
‘Relatives?’ Deemer prompted.
‘The Mellings don’t speak to us and the other Tayners have left the valley, gone south somewhere for work. Anyway, they hated Mam, you know, because of what she did. They’d not take me in because of that.’ She didn’t even have to think twice to work it out.
‘We’ll have to put you in an orphanage if there’s no one to look after you.’
‘No!’
‘There’s no choice.’
Tess thought desperately of who she knew and a picture of Jo’s lovely smile and kind offer came into her mind. ‘There’s Jo.’
‘Jo who?’
‘Jo Melling. She’s a distant relative.’
‘The young woman who came here from Australia?’
‘Yes. She came to our house looking for her father’s relatives. I don’t know her well but we’re definitely related. She said we were the closest left in England and she offered to help me and Mam leave here and go to Australia with her, so maybe she’ll help me now.’
There was no one else, no one in the whole world who really cared about her now.
‘We’ll ask her, then. Why don’t you go and pack your clothes? Whatever happens, you won’t be allowed to stay here on your own. Who’s your landlord? I don’t think I know that.’
‘Mam bought this house for herself years ago, so that no one could throw her out. I suppose it’ll come to me now.’ Tess began sobbing again. ‘Don’t take me away. I want to stay here. It’s my home . Donny will look after me.’
When Deemer sighed and patted her shoulder, she knew what he was going to say.
‘You’re a minor, Tess. You have to have a grown-up to look after y
ou. And Donny doesn’t count as a grown-up, let alone he’s not making any sense tonight. Do you know where this Jo Melling is staying?’
‘At Mrs T’s lodging house.’
‘Good. We need to take Donny to the police station first, to keep him safe, then we’ll see about you. Will you be all right riding in the back of my car with him?’
‘With Big Donny? Of course I’ll be all right. He’d never hurt me and he’s not the one who killed Mam, either.’
Her utter certainty about this reinforced the sergeant’s own feelings about the childlike man.
But who else could have committed the crime? The constable was a smart lad and he’d had the wit to ask the neighbours and people who came to gawp if they’d seen anyone hanging around earlier that evening, but no one had, or would admit to having seen anyone, more like.
Once Tess had packed some clothes, Deemer locked up the house, leaving it guarded by two lads he’d hired on the promise of five bob each if they kept an eye on it till morning. One was to stay at the front, one at the back. He breathed a sigh of relief as he opened the car door for Donny and Tess.
Donny was still too upset to think straight and if Tess hadn’t had the idea of giving him her mother’s best shawl to hold, they might have had trouble persuading him to leave the house and get into the car.
When they arrived at the police station, Donny continued to cuddle the shawl as if it were a live creature, but he did as Tess told him, going into the cell, sitting down and rocking to and fro, crooning to the shawl. He didn’t even seem to notice when they locked the door on him.
‘That chap never killed anyone,’ Deemer told his constable.
‘He doesn’t look capable of killing but you never know.’
‘I’m quite sure of it. But I think he’s in danger. It’s my guess the real murderer will want to keep him quiet. Donny can stay in that cell till I can work out what happened. Nobody is getting away with murder on my patch.’
The constable gaped at him. ‘It’s like you see in films, isn’t it, sarge?’
‘Sort of. Only in real life it isn’t as easy to solve crimes. Now, I’m going to take that poor lass to find her cousin. You’re not to tell anyone what I’m doing or where we’re going. If they ask, just say I’ve gone out to have a look round and you don’t know where Tess is. Your job is to keep an eye on Donny—and you be kind to him, mind.’
‘Where exactly are you going, sarge?’
‘I told you: I’m taking this poor lass to find her cousin. After that I’m not sure.’
That was all he’d say to his young constable. It seemed safer.
Sergeant Deemer drove her round to Mrs T’s to find Tess’s cousin, and Tess waited in the car while he woke up the landlady.
Tess watched and saw the woman hesitate when he spoke earnestly and gestured to the car. After a moment or two, the woman nodded, so Tess went to join them.
Mrs T sent them downstairs into the basement kitchen while she went up to the next floor to fetch Jo. She tossed over her shoulder a grudging, ‘You might as well sit down, I suppose.’
But Tess had seen the look Mrs T gave her and she knew already that she wouldn’t be welcome to stay here. It was always the same, only before she’d had her mam to go home to.
When the landlady returned with Jo, the sergeant explained what had happened.
Tess watched her cousin. What would Jo say? Would she turn away from her as well?
Jo looked at the sergeant in horror. ‘I can’t believe it!’ Then she turned to Tess. ‘Oh, you poor thing!’
The kindness in her face made tears well in Tess’s eyes again and when her cousin hurried round the table and put her arms round her, she couldn’t keep back a whimper of relief.
‘The lass says she doesn’t have anyone else to turn to but you,’ the sergeant said. ‘Was I right to bring her here?’
‘Of course you were. I’ll look after her.’
When she heard this, Tess couldn’t help it, she started sobbing again, clinging to Jo, who stayed close, the only person who’d ever cuddled Tess apart from her mother.
Mrs T cleared her throat to draw their attention and everyone looked at her.
‘The girl can’t stay here, sergeant. I’m really sorry, but people won’t want to lodge with me if she is in the house. Let alone what her mother was, there’s been a murder. It’s not only the morals, they’ll be afraid she’ll attract more trouble.’
‘Just let her stay till the morning, then,’ Jo pleaded. ‘She can come into my room. No one need see her.’
Mrs T hesitated then shook her head again. ‘I’m sorry, but no.’
Tess listened to them in dismay, wondering if this reaction would make a difference to Jo. People had always treated her scornfully. Most of the other children did at school and so did the teacher. If her mother hadn’t insisted on her keeping their secret, she’d not have continued going to school and facing the daily humiliations. And even though she was a good scholar, the teacher never praised her.
But the secret had helped keep him away till her mother could save enough money for them to get right away from Backshaw Moss. They had both been prepared to do anything necessary to stop him, had often discussed what life would be like afterwards.
How would she get away from him now? She knew where her mother hid the bank book and some money in case of an emergency, but would she be allowed to take that? And even if she did have money, where could she go? She might be able to keep herself in food and clothing, but a girl her age couldn’t stay in her home alone, with no one to protect her, she knew that better than anyone. It wouldn’t even be safe to stay in the valley, whoever she was with, not with him nearby.
She saw Jo look reproachfully at Mrs T, who flushed but still continued to shake her head.
Jo’s voice was very chill. ‘I presume you’ll let her sit here in the kitchen until I’ve packed my bag? Or is even that beyond your charity?’
Her question won a sigh and a reluctant nod.
‘Then I’ll go and do that. I’ll send for my trunk later.’
The sergeant intervened. ‘If you can be quick about it, Miss Melling, I’ll take you wherever you want to go. And help you with your trunk.’
Tess noticed Jo give a tiny sigh of relief.
‘Thank you. I know someone in Rivenshaw who may give us temporary refuge.’
‘I’ll wake my son and he’ll help you carry down the trunk,’ Mrs T said.
‘The sergeant and I can manage,’ Jo said. ‘I’m not a weakling.’
She didn’t say where they were going and Tess didn’t ask. Well, she didn’t believe anyone in the valley would let Red Moira’s daughter stay with them, so it must be outside the district. But she felt so weary and unhappy she couldn’t seem to ask about anything. It was an effort even to stay upright. All she wanted to do was curl up somewhere and weep her heart out. She felt like a little child, wanting her mammy, couldn’t seem to get beyond that.
But the sergeant did ask about it, ‘Where are we going?’
Jo threw a scornful look at the landlady. ‘I’ll tell you when we’re away from here.’
Mrs T flushed scarlet at this sign of mistrust, but folded her arms across her chest and said only, ‘Better go and pack, then. I’ll stay here.’
‘I’ll let you know when I’ve packed and you can come up and help me,’ Jo told Deemer and he nodded.
No one spoke as they waited. The sergeant came to sit next to Tess and Mrs T put a kettle on the gas stove. ‘Cup of tea, sergeant?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘I’ll make one for the girl as well.’
‘But you won’t take her in, a child who’s just lost her mother. I thought better of you, Mrs Tucker, I did that. So I don’t want your tea, thank you very much.’
Tess was surprised that the sergeant was helping her like this, though her mother had always said he was ‘all right, for a policeman’.
It seemed a long time till Jo came back down the stairs w
ith a Gladstone bag and a suitcase. ‘Can you carry these for me, Tess love? Sergeant Deemer, I’m afraid my other luggage is quite heavy.’
‘We’ll manage.’
Tess took the bags from her cousin, setting them down by the door and standing beside them.
Mrs T didn’t say anything, so Tess didn’t either. What was there to say? She’d lived through some bad times, but this was the worst ever.
When the sergeant and Jo had brought the trunk down, they lugged it outside and put it into the boot of the car.
Sergeant Deemer came back for the large suitcase and Tess followed him out, carrying the other two bags even though they were quite heavy, so eager was she to leave. It was quite a squash to get them all in as well as the luggage but she didn’t care. She wasn’t coming back for anything, not if Mrs T didn’t want her.
No one said goodbye and Tess half expected Mrs T to slam the door after them, but it was closed very quietly before they’d even left. And locked.
She wondered if she’d heard the faint sound of weeping from inside the house or just imagined it. Why would Mrs Tucker weep?
22
B efore he started the car, Deemer asked, ‘Why didn’t you want to tell Mrs T where we were going, Jo? She’d not come after the lass. She’s not that bad underneath, just frightened for her livelihood.’
‘I don’t trust her now. But that’s not why I think we should try to keep Tess’s whereabouts a secret. Until we know who killed her mother, I think she’ll be safer staying hidden.’
‘You’re probably right, but you’ll have to tell me, though, or I can’t take you there.’
‘Well, of course. I trust you absolutely, sergeant.’ She lowered her voice, even though they were inside the car with the doors shut. ‘I think Nick will let us stay with him at Willcox Motors. There are empty bedrooms and since I work there, I have a key to the front and back doors. I can let us in without waking the neighbours then go upstairs and wake Nick to ask him if it’s all right to stay there.’
