‘Has it now?’ said Sharrock sarcastically. ‘Well I can’t say I’m surprised. That’s exactly the sort of thing that happens all the time. Funny thing, memory. Does Mr Linnett say he saw it all?’
‘No, he didn’t see the murder, but someone else did.’
‘So you’re not claiming we hanged an innocent man? Well I’m very relieved about that. You had me quite worried there. It wasn’t Mr Waterfield was it? He doesn’t look like a bicycling man to me.’
‘Jack Linnett says his father told him it was Mr Iliffe.’
Sharrock looked surprised.
‘I know what you are about to say, Inspector. According to the evidence he gave at the inquest, and confirmed by Mrs Pirrie, Mr Iliffe was in the coach house at the lodge at the time of the murder. Mr Waterfield also confirms it, as he took a cup of tea to him. But Jack says his father told him that Mr Iliffe rode up and saw him commit the murder.’
‘Mr Iliffe could not have been in two places at once.’
‘Exactly.’
Sharrock shrugged. ‘Well someone’s made a mistake, that’s all. And if Mr Iliffe really did see the murder, why didn’t he say so?’
‘Yes, why indeed?’
‘I suppose I could ask him, but it was a year ago and our only witness is a dead man. In the meantime, I suggest you make a fresh pot of tea, as I think Mr Waterfield is currently enjoying the last of mine.’
Frances nodded, and then it came to her. ‘Tea! Of course! Why didn’t I see that before?’
‘Dare I say it, because you were too busy looking into police business?’
‘Inspector, if you would allow me to speak to Mr Waterfield, I might be able to find an answer to how Mr Iliffe was able to be in two places at once.’
Sharrock groaned. ‘I suppose there’s no putting you off, is there. Alright. Let me have a word with him first and then I’ll ask him if he is happy for you to come in.’
Some minutes later Frances was called into the tearoom, where Mr Waterfield was being comforted by Mrs Pirrie. A wirily thin, slightly bent individual, his face was heavily lined and pouched under the eyes, but his hair, which was pure white, was perfectly cut and combed, and his cravat was fresh and neat. A fresh pot of tea was on the table in front of him and he was sipping at a cup, which he lifted to his lips with shaky hands.
‘This is Miss Williamson, Mr Garton’s cousin,’ explained Mrs Pirrie. ‘She was so much help in the kitchen just earlier. Makes the nicest cup of tea.’
‘Oh, well, thank you, Miss,’ said Mr Waterfield. ‘Very obliged, I am sure.’
‘I ought to say,’ said Sharrock, reluctantly, ‘that it is down to this lady that Sir Hugo is still alive. It’s a long story and I’m sure you’ll hear all of it in due course. But in the meantime, she would like to ask you some questions.’
Mrs Pirrie stared at Frances and gasped. ‘You didn’t tell me that!’
‘Oh, it was nothing, really,’ said Frances, modestly.
Waterfield put his cup down. ‘Of course, we are so grateful that Sir Hugo is safe that it is really the least I can do.’
Frances sat down beside him. ‘Mr Waterfield, I would like you to cast your mind back to that unfortunate day when Mr Morton Vance was killed.’
Waterfield sighed. ‘That was a terrible thing, I shall never forget it.’
‘Mrs Pirrie made tea for the young men when they returned from their ride and you took a cup out to Mr Iliffe, who was in the coach house.’
Waterfield nodded. ‘Yes, I did.’
‘Can you tell me what time that was?’
He frowned. ‘Well, one tends not to look at one’s watch at such an event.’
‘No of course not, but was it at the same time that Mrs Pirrie was serving tea to the other members of the club?’
‘Well it would have been,’ said Mrs Pirrie, ‘because all the tea was made at the same time, and I poured out a cup for Mr Iliffe.’
Waterfield nodded slowly. ‘Yes. I do remember, now. Mrs Pirrie made the tea and took a tray with the pot and cups to the young men, and asked me to take an extra cup to Mr Iliffe.’
‘And that would have been about ten minutes after five?’
‘That’s about right,’ said Mrs Pirrie.
‘I suppose it was,’ said Waterfield.
‘Only when Mr Ross-Fielder arrived at the coach house at half past five, he mentioned that he found Mr Iliffe there drinking his tea.’
Waterfield frowned.
‘Mr Ross-Fielder was very certain of the time because he heard the church clock chiming the half hour. And that’s strange because it suggests that Mr Iliffe, who was probably very thirsty after his ride, waited in the coach house for twenty minutes before he drank his tea.’
Waterfield pondered this for a moment. ‘I did take the cup out to him as soon as the tea was poured. But – he wasn’t there at first.’
‘He wasn’t there?’ exclaimed Sharrock.
‘No. The coach house was locked. It is always locked when there is no one in attendance. The gentlemen are very careful about that. I assumed, of course, quite naturally under the circumstances, that Mr Iliffe was absent in order to – well,’ he said primly, ‘for a personal purpose.’
‘You didn’t mention this at the inquest,’ said Frances.
‘It hardly seemed important. Mr Iliffe is not suspected of any wrongdoing.’
‘Did you return to the coach house?’ asked Frances.
‘Of course. I had some duties to perform at the lodge, and then I thought I would go out again. It was about five minutes later, I think, but he was still not there. So eventually I made up some fresh tea, as the first cup was not really fit for drinking, and I took it to him and this time he was there.’
‘When was this?’
‘Just shortly before the half hour.’
‘Mr Ross-Fielder had not yet arrived to give the alarm?’
‘No, but that was very soon after.’
‘I suppose you didn’t ask Mr Iliffe where he had been?’
‘Oh, my word, I wouldn’t presume to do so, no.’
‘How did he seem when you saw him?’
‘As any gentlemen is after a long ride on a bicycle.’
‘He looked warm?’
‘Yes.’
‘What was he doing when you arrived? Resting?’
Waterfield frowned again. ‘No. He had a pan of water and was cleaning one of the rain capes.’
‘A rain cape? But wasn’t it a hot sunny day?’
‘It was. I asked if I could help him but he said it wasn’t necessary, it had just got some dirt on it.’
‘Did you ask him to explain himself?’
‘No – I would never dream of doing such a thing.’
‘Is there anything else you can tell me?’
‘I don’t think so, Miss.’
Sharrock scratched his head. ‘So that means?’
‘It means,’ said Frances, ‘that instead of Mr Iliffe having almost no time to ride to the site of the murder and return he had twenty minutes or more.’ She then recalled a previous mention of a cape, one worn on a hot sunny day. ‘Mrs Pirrie? I remember you telling me that on the day of the tragedy you had seen a couple in a sociable on the carriage drive in front of the lodge.’
‘Yes, that’s right, I did.’
‘A gentleman, not in the bicycle club uniform, and a lady wearing a cape?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was it a rain cape?’
Mrs Pirrie thought about it. ‘Yes, it was, because I remember thinking it a bit strange as we weren’t expecting any rain, but then I thought maybe the lady was being extra careful. Some ladies are.’
Frances rubbed her eyes. ‘Oh dear!’
‘What is it?’ asked Sharrock.
‘I think – I think I know. But I’m not sure I can prove it.’
‘Prove what?’
‘I think I know why Morton Vance was riding so fast down Old Oak Common Lane.’
There was a knock at the door a
nd Tom peeped in. ‘It’s Joe,’ he said ‘’e’s talking. ’E says he’ll only tell the police what he knows if ’e’s kept safe, and also if the nice lady is there.’ He grinned at Frances.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Joe’s story, which he told very nervously, and with constant glances at Frances for reassurance, fitted with what she had already suspected. In addition to his work for Mr Hopper he had also taken messages between Iliffe and Babbit. Both of those gentlemen had communicated with Hopper. They had told him that they were pretending to be enemies for a joke, when they were really friends. It had to be kept a secret, and there would be a good reward for him if he did. Joe had also taken messages from the two bicyclists to other gentlemen who he knew liked to make private wagers, and he was paid well to be quick and discreet. One of the other boys who worked for Hopper had noticed who he was meeting, and said that a man called Cowdray used to carry messages for Iliffe and Babbit, but then he had run off with some of Mr Hopper’s money. Joe claimed not to know anything about the content of the messages he carried and Sharrock smiled, patted him on the shoulder and said that he entirely believed him on that point.
Joe revealed that shortly before the professionals’ race that afternoon, Mr Babbit had come up to him and asked if he would like to have a velocipede and it wouldn’t cost a penny. It had been abandoned by someone who didn’t want it any more. All he had to do was go and get it. The main condition for this bounty was that he had to keep quiet about how and where he had got it. Joe had naturally agreed with some enthusiasm, and Babbit told him about the overgrown garden. It had been hard work to move the stiff heavy door, but Joe had only needed to force it open a very little way to slip in and find his prize.
‘I’ll look after him,’ said Tom, when Joe had told his story.
‘Are you saying, Miss Doughty,’ said Sharrock, once the two boys had left, ‘that Mr Babbit killed Cowdray?’
‘Not necessarily, but he was involved in disposing of the body. Logically I think the murderer must have been Mr Iliffe. Babbit, given his supposed enmity with Iliffe, would not normally have risked being seen around Springfield Lodge. Did Cowdray ask for a meeting with Iliffe? Perhaps Cowdray simply followed Iliffe back to the lodge on his velocipede and demanded to speak to him. If so, they might well have gone into the garden to talk because it was private and they knew they wouldn’t be disturbed or seen by anyone as long as they stayed close to the wall. Mr Hopper told us about the kind of man Cowdray was. He knew that Iliffe and Babbit were making substantial winnings from their subterfuge, and must have been trying to blackmail them, threatening to reveal the betting fraud unless he received a share of the profits. I don’t know how Cowdray died – either it was a fight or deliberate murder – but I think he must have been killed in that garden. There’s a broken spade that could have been the murder weapon. Iliffe knew that no one ever went in there, so he had no qualms about leaving the velocipede behind. I suspect that neither he nor Babbit were aware that Cowdray had scratched some letters on the handlebars to mark it out as his; but in the heat of summer, he couldn’t risk leaving the body there too long. Even on the other side of the wall, its presence would have been noticed soon.’
‘So he got rid of it? How? Where?’
‘I think he wrapped it in a rain cape and then got a message to his friend Babbit to come and help him dispose of it. They must have arranged to meet in secret the next day after the club ride was over and the other members, as well as Sir Hugo, Mrs Pirrie and Mr Waterfield, were all in the lodge. It was the only time they felt safe from being seen. They are both large men, and Cowdray, according to Hopper, was very slight, so it wouldn’t have taken long. The body must have been put on one seat of the sociable and Babbit rode out with it, with Iliffe following on his bicycle. It is quite possible for a strong man to manage a sociable by himself if the other seat is not too laden. With two of them working together disposing of the body would only take a few minutes. They went north up the lane, and hid the body.’
‘Of course it was a risk and it didn’t quite come off. They weren’t to anticipate that Mr Waterfield would come out to the coach house twice and see that Iliffe wasn’t there but fortunately for Iliffe he didn’t think anything of it or even mention it. Then when they were on Old Oak Common Lane, Morton Vance came riding past and saw two men, one of whom, even if he didn’t immediately recognise him, was clearly in the uniform of the Bayswater Bicycle Club, and disposing of a corpse. He must have been appalled – terrified.’
‘But no body has been found,’ said Sharrock. ‘Where is it – in a ditch? It can’t be. It would have been found by now, and they didn’t have time to bury it. The pig farm near Wormwood Scrubs? No one saw a sociable go up that far.’
‘They didn’t need to go so far. Barely two minutes’ ride from Springfield Lodge is the Stamford Brook, the old river covered over and incorporated into the Metropolitan drainage system. It forms the parish boundary and runs down Old Oak Common Lane. All the riders knew about it because they had to take care when riding beside it. They must have slipped the body into the waterway through one of the access points, removing the rain cape first. Morton Vance must have seen the body being lowered into the drain. When he realised what was happening he rode off to report what he had seen. Iliffe raced after him and witnessed him being killed by Sam Linnett. But, of course, he dared not say anything about it, as he wasn’t supposed to be there. In the meantime, Babbit returned the sociable to the coach house and Iliffe rode back. He was cleaning the rain cape when Waterfield arrived with his tea.’
Sharrock puffed out his cheeks. ‘Well, with the evidence of the betting fraud from young Joe, I’ve good reason to take them both into custody. And then we’ll see which one of them will give evidence against the other in return for being charged only as an accessory to murder.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Out on the field, Jack was still helping Toop with the club bicycles, when Mr Grove entered the pavilion with a look of concern. ‘Ratty delivered my message and agents were sent to Farrow’s home to take him in for questioning, but I have just learned that he is not there and no one knows where he is. His father and sister are at home but they left the field without him, and when they departed he was still here. Has anyone seen him?’
‘I have not seen him for some while,’ said Frances.
‘What is your interest in George Farrow?’ asked Sharrock. ‘I interviewed him this afternoon and there was no reason to detain him.’
‘I have been told that he had been flirting with Miss Hicks,’ said Frances.
‘I don’t think there’s a man in the county who hasn’t flirted with Miss Hicks,’ said Sharrock. ‘I’ll ask the constables if he’s been seen leaving the field.’
‘Toop might know,’ said Cedric.
‘Let’s see if his bicycle is still here,’ said Grove.
They went to the club enclosure where Mr Toop, who seemed to trust no one with his prized machine, was polishing it carefully. He was hard at work, looking a little flustered, and the flower in his buttonhole was gone, leaving only a damp smear where it had once been.
‘Mr Toop,’ said Sharrock, ‘have you seen Mr George Farrow about?’
‘Not for about fifteen or twenty minutes, no.’
‘Linnett, is his bicycle here?’
Jack obligingly searched, and nodded. ‘Yes, it is. Mr Farrow is one of those gents who keeps his at home, so he must still be about, somewhere.’
‘He has been assisting by taking the club machines back to the coach house,’ said Toop.
‘Is it open?’ asked Frances. ‘Is anyone in charge of it?’
‘It should be kept locked unless there is a man there,’ said Toop. ‘Those members who have been allowed to leave the field and wanted to put their machines away borrowed the keys from me, and of course I trust them to leave everything secure and bring the keys back.’
‘You haven’t been there yourself?’ asked Sharrock.
‘Oh yes,
Inspector, I’ve been back and forth quite a number of times. Your constables will tell you that. So much to do, and with Jack so long away being questioned I had more to do myself.’
‘Did you lend the keys to Mr Farrow?’
‘I did, but he hasn’t returned them.’ Toop paused and looked a little uncomfortable. ‘To be truthful, Inspector, I am somewhat concerned about Farrow. I could see that he was a very troubled man today, even before that horrid incident with his poor sister, and Mr Goring’s dreadful behaviour. In fact, he confided in me that he had done something very terrible that was weighing on his conscience.’
Sharrock folded his arms and stared at Toop. ‘Now then, Mr Toop, there’s no time for delicacy here. If there’s something you know, just out with it.’
‘I wish I could, but he said no more than that. I advised him that whatever it might be, he would be eased in his mind if he could only confess it. He said that he would consider it. In fact, when he took one of the club bicycles away he told me he would go riding for a short while so as to allow himself to think clearly.’
‘Have you seen him since then, or looked in the coach house?’ asked Sharrock.
‘No, neither. He is probably still out on his ride. He will have to come back here in any case to collect his own machine. I hope he returns soon, as I was just about to take mine back.’ Toop gave his elaborate steed an affectionate pat.
‘I’ll ask about in case anyone has seen him,’ said Grove.
‘I’ll get the men to make a search,’ said Sharrock, and bustled away with Mayberry by his side.
‘Mr Toop,’ asked Frances, ‘if you are about to return your own bicycle, might I go with you to the coach house? I’d like to take a look at the lodge, in any case. And who knows, we might find Mr Farrow there, or see him on his way back?’
‘Certainly. Jack, could you take one of the club machines?’ They marched off towards the gates of the field, Toop and Jack both wheeling bicycles, and Frances striding along with them.
Murder at the Bayswater Bicycle Club Page 28
