Family Ties (The Mark Pemberton Cases Book 1)

by Nicholas Rhea

  George also found two toys, a battered wooden railway engine painted green and a box of lead soldiers, Coldstream Guards by the look of them. His army issues were here too — his tin hat, his webbing, his socks, his tunic, trousers and puttees, all neatly cleaned and pressed where necessary. His boots were beneath the kit; they were clean and looked almost unused.

  In a tin box, George found James’s peaked cap complete with Green Howards badge. Gingerly and with the utmost care, he lifted out each of these items, one by one, and placed them on the blanket which he had spread across the floorboards. James’s back-pack and its contents were next to be lifted out. The huge greatcoat occupied most of the backpack, but other oddments here included a trench pipe, matches, the housewife, the cleaning materials, iron rations, tea-making equipment, water purifying tablets, water bottle, billy can, knife, fork and spoon… All were still here, just as James had left them. His kitbag now contained two army blankets, some woollen gloves and spare socks and a heavy military issue woollen sweater.

  In a brown envelope, George found a number of Mass cards. Printed on sturdy white high-quality paper, they sported black edges and black printing. These announced James’s death and the date of his funeral, and would have been sent to friends, relations and villagers to inform them of the Requiem Mass and interment.

  The cards bore the same verse as his tombstone and these were clearly the spares. James’s mother had kept them. He found himself reading some of the paperwork, scanning the novels, looking for inscriptions inside or some clue as to James’s loves and life, although he did not open the letters. He found several of James’s sheep-dog trial certificates; he’d won several local competitions with Ben, his border collie, and there was a small silver-coloured cup bearing his name. The cup bore Ben’s name alongside. It was called the Wolversdale Trophy. His mum would have been proud of that.

  One by one, the contents of James’s trunk were removed until George could see the base. There remained one large wooden box, just over a foot in length by some ten inches in width and two or three inches deep. It had a hinged lid, about an inch in depth. He wondered what it contained. He tried to lift it out, but it was very heavy, and two hands were required. Gingerly, therefore, he hoisted the weighty box from the trunk and placed it on the floor. Kneeling beside it, he slipped aside the two hooks which held the lid shut. It opened easily; he was shocked by the contents.

  It contained a revolver.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When she returned to Thirklewood Hall, Lorraine went straight to her room to get washed and changed into something more casual for the evening meal. Mark said he wanted to know if anything of interest had cropped up during his absence, so he turned towards the Potting Shed, nerve centre of Operation Roots. Once he was inside, Detective Inspector Paul Larkin hailed him.

  ‘Sir, there was a telephone call for you, from George Hartley of Pike Hill Farm.’

  ‘I went to see him this morning. What does he want?’

  ‘He wants to see you. It’s important, but not desperately urgent, he says. He wouldn’t tell me what it was about!’

  ‘Right, I’ll ring him before I eat,’ promised Mark. ‘Now, has anything else of importance happened here?’

  ‘No, it’s all quiet, we’re ticking over nicely. The latest is that the Americans have drawn up a detailed list of Hartleys that the Vice-President intends to visit. It includes the cousins at Hull — I know you’ve been there — and of course he wants to talk to George Hartley and his offspring at Pike Hill Farm and see the graves at Wolversdale. The dates are the 12th at Wolversdale, the 13th at Hull, and he’s talking of visiting the Borthwick Institute in York on the 14th, to see if they have any of his family records.’

  ‘You’ve checked the known family members through the PNC to see if any have terrorist links or other associations that would cause problems, and you’ve checked with CRO for criminal records?’

  ‘Yes, sir, we’ve done all the routine checks; nothing’s emerged that would give cause for concern. One or two have convictions — there’s a Caleb James born in 1929 who’s got a conviction for GBH but that was way back in 1949. He’ll be a half-cousin of the George you know. He lives in Durham.’

  ‘The DPG and US agents will keep an eye on him, I’m sure, although I can’t see him being a problem. So we have no youngsters with violent anti-American attitudes?’

  ‘There is one younger member of the family called Andrew Caleb Sutton, born 1963, who is a known hunt saboteur. He gets carried away by his enthusiasm for stopping fox-hunters and has landed himself in court once or twice for causing a breach of the peace. He was bound over for two years last time — that was in February this year.’

  ‘So long as he’s against fox-hunters and not American Vice-Presidents, I don’t think he’ll cause problems. Again, the DPG will keep an eye on him and his activities over the next few days.’

  ‘Good, and when he’s out visiting, they don’t want any of our men to accompany the party. Scotland Yard and the White House agents will see to all that.’

  ‘Does the Vice-President intend bringing any of the Hartley clan here? Or taking them to one of the local hotels for a meal or anything like that?’

  ‘I asked if any of them were expected here but it seems no. If the Vice-President has anything to show them, such as his own family records, he’ll take the papers with him during his visits.’

  ‘Good, that’s one problem less to think about. It seems we’ll be having a quiet time.’

  ‘I got this latest gen from one of the Scotland Yard team, sir, a Detective Superintendent Birchall. He reckons the Home Office is not very chuffed about the Vice-President’s private visit — they see him as a trouble-maker.’

  ‘Trouble-maker?’

  ‘Apparently, according to Yard intelligence, he has shown a lot of anti-British sentiment when he’s been overseas, and he takes every opportunity to criticise this country and our government. We’re not quite sure what he’s up to.’

  ‘Doesn’t anyone have any idea?’

  ‘He’s got strong sympathies with Ireland, it seems; that dictates his overall attitude.’

  ‘So why’s he coming here to discover his English roots?’

  ‘They suspect he’s hoping to make some political capital out of it in due course, something along the lines that if he can show he really has British ancestry, his critical views will be taken more seriously, perhaps by foreign powers.’

  ‘Politicians are wily animals,’ said Pemberton. ‘I’m glad I’m not in that profession. I wonder how he’ll react if we can prove his grandad was a murderer?’

  ‘It might shut him up, sir.’

  ‘That’s if he ever finds out — we might be told to keep it quiet!’

  ‘We’re good at doing as we’re told, sir.’

  ‘It’s our job, Paul. So, apart from that, it’s otherwise very quiet, eh?’

  ‘Yes, sir, very quiet. Too bloody quiet, to be honest.’

  ‘How about the programming of the Hartley file into HOLMES? Has anything of further interest come to notice?’

  ‘Nothing, sir. I’ve reread the file but can’t see anything that’s going to help us come to a firm conclusion. Luke’s still highest in the frame, but that’s all; there’s still no hard evidence of his guilt, certainly no proof.’

  At this point, Mark explained about the movements of Thomas Hartley and asked Larkin if he could find out anything about train times on the North-Eastern Railway on 11th September 1916, suggesting the National Railway Museum in York as the best starting point. He explained why this was of interest and Paul said he would reread the relevant statements.

  ‘See if there’s any hint anywhere that Thomas was at Pike Hill Farm, or anywhere in the vicinity, on the day of James’s death.’

  ‘Now, sir?’

  ‘No, it’s gone five o’clock, Paul, it’s knocking-off time.’

  ‘I don’t mind, sir, I’ve nothing else to do.’

  ‘As you wish, but I�
��m not compelling you to work extra time — the Chief’s given me a bollocking for always being at work and says I mustn’t encourage my staff to do likewise. Anyway, thanks for your assistance. I’ll give old Mr George Hartley a buzz now, then I’ll get washed and changed and have a meal. See you in the bar later? I’ll buy you a pint!’

  ‘In half an hour?’

  ‘You’re on!’

  In the privacy of his own office, Mark rang George Hartley at Pike Hill Farm.

  ‘It’s Detective Superintendent Pemberton,’ he announced. ‘I’ve just got in. You left a message for me to ring?’

  ‘Aye, that’s right, Mr Pemberton. You remember that trunk I told you about, Great Uncle James’s stuff?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Well, it’s still here just as I thought, in the loft of the farmhouse. It’s untouched since James’s mother packed it but I had a look inside this afternoon.’

  ‘Is there anything that might interest me?’ asked Mark.

  ‘I reckon there is, there’s a lot of personal things, but there’s a revolver, Mr Pemberton. It looks like an army issue to me. I haven’t touched it.’

  ‘A revolver? Good God, what’s it doing there?’

  ‘Nay, Mr Pemberton, I’ve no idea. I thought you’d better look at it and mebbe take it away. Confiscate it or summat. It’s not a very good idea having a thing like that lying around with kids in the house and I’ll be happy for it to be removed.’

  ‘I’ll come and get it,’ said Mark, feeling the flutter of excitement in his chest. ‘What else does the trunk contain?’

  ‘Bits of all sorts. His army stuff, things he had as a child, church things, books, certificates from school and so on, letters.’

  ‘What sort of letters?’

  ‘I didn’t open them, Mr Pemberton, they’re all wrapped up in ribbon.’

  ‘What addresses were on the envelopes?’

  ‘Oh, well, they were to his mum, here at the farm. At least the top one was.’

  ‘I’ll have something to eat, then I’ll come straight over to Wolversdale. Would seven o’clock this evening be all right?’

  ‘Aye, whatever you say, Mr Pemberton.’ Mark had to tell Paul Larkin that the promised pint had evaporated, at least for the time being, and he explained the new development.

  ‘Are you suggesting that revolver’s the murder weapon, sir?’ Paul asked.

  ‘What else?’ said Pemberton. ‘The murder weapon was never found, the bullet had come from a .45 calibre weapon, and we still have the bullet. If we have a firearm to work on, we can at least get a ballistic comparison, Paul — after all these years!’

  ‘It’s a long shot, but if this was the murder weapon, how did it come to be hidden at the farm? I thought the police had searched the premises?’

  ‘They did, but how long does it take to thoroughly search a farm for something as small as a revolver? You could conceal revolvers and even rifles all over a farm like that and they’d never be found, even by modern methods. I once knew a thief who hid an airgun between the corrugated iron sheets which formed the wall of a pigsty. He simply unbolted the interior lining, popped the gun on to a spar inside, and replaced the sheet. There was no way you’d have found that airgun without knowing where to look. I believe Luke did something like that. I think he kept it hidden until well after the police search. So, if this is the murder weapon, it puts Luke even higher in the frame. I reckon he used it to kill his brother, then returned to the farm with the revolver hidden among the tools he carried in the trap. He admitted carrying tools in a bag — that would be to explain any package that might be noticed. Once home, he hid the revolver.’

  ‘But not in the trunk, surely?’

  ‘Not at the outset. I’ll bet he hid it in one of the outbuildings, then before he left the country, he smuggled it into this trunk, knowing his mother had gathered her mementoes of James and put them here. He’d know the trunk would never be opened, not while his mother was alive anyway, and so where better to hide the revolver than in the trunk among James’s other things? If anybody found it here, they’d assume it had belonged to James, they’d think it was his service issue revolver. Luke would have access to the key, remember, being the eldest son. And, years later, if it was found, who would know its history? All would assume it had belonged to James, being among his other military equipment. Years later, if the gun was discovered, everyone would think James’s mother had kept it as a souvenir, never thinking it was the cause of his death. But we know it wasn’t James’s service issue — we know that privates in the Green Howards weren’t issued with revolvers or pistols. They did bring their rifles back home, however, minus ammunition. Soldiers who returned after the war would sometimes bring trophies — guns they’d captured from the enemy. In those days, to find a gun among a soldier’s belongings was quite normal. So there are all sorts of sound reasons for hiding the revolver among James’s own things — especially if it was the murder weapon.’

  ‘So where would Luke get a revolver?’ asked Larkin.

  ‘The Boer War perhaps? He was a veteran — he could have brought his own revolver home, or he could have seized one as a souvenir. Lots of soldiers did, especially during the Boer War. He probably had a round or two to match it, but they’ve gone. And I wonder how many of his family knew he’d brought a revolver home? Maybe some, maybe none.’

  ‘But James’s rifle isn’t with the stuff in the trunk. It wasn’t retained.’

  ‘No, the police would have seized that as evidence from the beginning, and it would have been returned to the Green Howards in due course. There should be a receipt for that in the file. But the army wouldn’t want his personal clothes back, or the items of equipment which were expendable; they’d be written off just as if he’d been lost in the war. So Mum kept them — it’s entirely understandable.’

  ‘If this was the murder weapon, sir, and if Luke used it, I’m not totally convinced he would bring it out of hiding and place it among his brother’s belongings.’

  ‘If Luke had left it hidden, Paul you can guarantee that eventually it would be found. He would know that. You can’t hide a thing like that without somebody finding it sooner or later and reporting it. If it was found in its hiding place, even months or years later, whether on the farm or elsewhere, it would clearly be considered as the weapon which had killed James. I’m sure you would agree. The mere fact that it had been hidden would suggest that.’

  ‘Yes, I can understand that.’

  ‘So Luke left home for a new life in Canada, totally unsuspected of being the murderer. Suppose the gun had been found after he’d gone, months or even years afterwards?’

  ‘Yes, I can see what the reaction would be. They’d all suspect him — no one else would be able to account for the gun’s presence and so the finger of suspicion would be directed towards Luke, who’d apparently run away to avoid capture. It might even have had his fingerprints on it — fingerprints were regarded as important even at that time.’

  ‘Exactly, so Luke prevented all that by placing the gun among James’s belongings at some stage just before he left for Canada. Once his mother had filled the trunk with James’s things, she’d not want anyone else to touch it, and that respect has passed right down through the family. Just think — if we hadn’t alerted George, we’d never have found what might be the gun that killed his Great Uncle James. It was the perfect hiding place.’

  ‘I can see that now, sir.’

  ‘Which means, Paul, that if I’m right about Luke, he was a most cunning, clever and devious sort of character!’

  ‘You’ll seize it as evidence, then?’

  ‘You bet I will, and I’ll submit it to a ballistics examination along with the bullet we’ve still got. Fancy, after all this time, we might have found the murder weapon!’

  ‘What about the rest of the stuff?’

  ‘George mentioned some letters. I’d like to read them, Paul. The police of the time did read them but returned them to the family w
ithout making copies. We might find a clue in them.’

  ‘What sort of a clue, sir?’

  ‘Something to explain why James was murdered. We still haven’t the remotest idea of a motive, have we?’

  ‘And we’ll be able to subject the actual letters to the scrutiny of dear old HOLMES?’

  ‘Of course. We’ll photocopy them before returning them to the family. I’d like Lorraine to read the letters; a woman’s interpretation might be advantageous. I’ll be interested to see what she thinks about James’s mother.’

  ‘OK, fine.’

  ‘Look, Paul, I’m sorry to dash off again and leave you in charge, but tomorrow, you take time out and visit the Railway Museum. I’ll stay in and do my stuff as the officer in charge!’

  ‘Thanks, sir, yes — I’d welcome an outing.’ Pemberton left Thirklewood Hall and realised he had ample time to reach Pike Hill Farm in Wolversdale. This time he was alone because Lorraine had said she wanted to wash her hair and he decided to occupy his spare time by calling on Millicent Roe. Rosenthorpe was but a short drive from Wolversdale. She’d been most abrupt with Lorraine and Mark was determined to interview her, the only known surviving witness from 1916.

  When he arrived at the untidy cottage, the door was open, and a light was burning. He rapped on the woodwork, noting it could do with a coat of paint. Inside, he could see a fire smouldering in the grate and then an elderly woman appeared. She was carrying a teapot.