‘Mr Trimm?’ asked Cooley.
‘Yes. What do you want? I’m busy,’ Ronald said testily. Then he added, with an effort to speak more civilly, ‘I’m going through the catalogue of a sale I have to go to tomorrow.’
‘Detective Constable Cooley, D division,’ Cooley said flatly. ‘Is that your van?’
‘Yes. It’s all right there, isn’t it, officer, for an hour or so? I don’t usually park it there, I normally leave it in Church Lane.’
Church Lane, where the footpath across the fields past the Manor House emerged.
Cooley’s gaze dropped from Ronald’s pale blue, anxious eyes to the hand that held the door open. The street light nearby shone steadily down and he saw squat fingers, a plump back to the hand, and pale ginger hairs.
He stepped over the threshold.
George got off the bus at the stop beyond the Plough in Crowbury High Street. The bus moved on, a lighted monster lumbering noisily towards Middletown, as he walked through the rain to the turning that led to Orchard House. The police were probably waiting there.
He moved slowly, tired and wretched; so many shocking things had happened within such a short space of time that he could barely comprehend them all. The personal horror of being suspected of committing a capital crime – two capital crimes, it now seemed – was enough on its own, but he was still stunned and shocked by the fact of Dorothea’s terrible death.
He would miss her. She’d been a good friend to him.
But he wouldn’t be living in Orchard House; he’d be in some prison, sewing mailbagSubmerged in his own misery, George trudged on, barely aware of his surroundings. He heard the sudden wail of a police siren, and halted.
Here they were, on their way for him. He might as well make it easy for them.
He stepped forward into the road as the car tore towards him, its light flashing, on its way to the aid of Cooley. The driver jammed on the brakes and swerved, but he could not avoid the figure which had appeared so suddenly before him, and the wing of the car struck George hard, throwing him to the side of the road, where he lay inert.
Ronald was late again. It couldn’t be the books this evening. Nancy frowned, sitting in her chair, drumming her fingers on the arm with impatience. What could be holding him up? He knew her whole day was geared to the peak moment of his return.
She turned the oven down, and resumed her vigil. After a while she heard a car outside, but it wasn’t the van. It stopped in the road. Hurrying into the hall, Nancy drew the curtain back a fraction and looked out.
A police car was parked in the road, and while she watched a woman police officer in uniform, and a middle-aged man in a raincoat walked down the path of the Nortons’ bungalow next door. What could have happened? Making sure she had only opened the curtains enough to peer through a chink, and couldn’t possibly be seen, Nancy waited.
Quite quickly, she saw Keith and Hilda Norton leaving the house with the man and the woman officer. They drove away in the police car. Whatever could be wrong?
Nancy decided to pop round to see if Lynn was in the house on her own; then she’d learn why the police had called. Surely the Nortons weren’t in any trouble?
But she found there was nobody at home.
She went back and turned the oven down still more, waiting for Ronald.
By the time a second police car arrived in Sycamore Road, Nancy was really worried, and when this time her own doorbell rang, she knew that Ronald must have had an accident.
Two uniformed officers stood on the step and asked if they might enter. She stood aside to admit them, and led them both in by the fire. At first she could not make sense of what they told her. Ronald was being held at Tellingford police station, they said, to be charged with abducting a minor, and wounding a police officer while resisting arrest.
The older officer talked on. Things had been found at the shop: a black sweater and a very dark purple balaclava helmet, hand-knitted, and a scarf. Yes, Nancy admitted; she’d noticed these things were missing from Ronald’s wardrobe, and a pair of trousers too. The policeman was mentioning Ronald’s raincoat, and his tweed hat.
They asked if Ronald was often home late, and she said almost never. Once, not so long ago, she recalled, he had taken Mrs Wyatt home from the Plough when she felt unwell. There had been two other occasions quite recently, and she remembered the dates; he’d been held up on a Friday with a problem over the books, she said, and another day the van had given trouble.
Had he ever met Mrs Felicity Cartwright, they inquired, an antique dealer fatally attacked in Fletcham?
He had, Nancy knew. He’d sold her a box. It was a few weeks ago now; she could check the date as she kept a diary of the sales he attended.
It was a long time before she understood the reasons for their questions, and that Ron had intended to harm Lynn. The girl was safe, Nancy learned – simply shocked.
‘But it was that other man – that Fortescue man,’ she said.
‘Mr Fortescue wasn’t involved,’ said one of the officers. ‘And in fact he was injured this evening in a road accident. Hit by a car. Some concussion, a few cracked ribs and bruising, but he’ll be all right. He was lucky.’
So was the officer driving the car. He’d had no chance of totally avoiding Fortescue, as the man stepped into the road, hand aloft, but if Fortescue had been killed by a police car speeding to effect an arrest it would not have looked good in the press.
Cooley had sustained a flesh wound in the arm. It was painful but not serious.
‘Ron had everything a man could want,’ said Nancy. ‘I did everything for him. Why should he do such terrible things?’
Why indeed?
The older officer told her that Ronald had bought her some flowers today. They’d been in his van and he’d mentioned them very particularly after his arrest. There was no reason why she shouldn’t have them; he’d send an officer round with them later.
Ronald, he had to explain, wouldn’t be coming home – not for a very long time.
'Dr. Patrick Grant' Titles
(in order of first publication)
These titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels
Dead In The Morning (1970)
Silent Witness (1972)
Grave Matters (1973)
Mortal Remains (1974)
Cast For Death (1976)
Other Margaret Yorke Novels
Published by House of Stratus
Devil's Work (1982)
The Hand Of Death (1981)
Pieces Of Justice (Short Story Collection) (1994)
Safely To The Grave (1986)
Serious Intent (1995)
A Small Deceit (1991)
Synopses of Titles
Published by House of Stratus
A. Dr. Patrick Grant Titles
Cast For Death
Sam Irwin, actor, is found dead in the River Thames. It appears to be suicide. But why should he have taken his own life shortly before opening in a new play at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre at Stratford-upon-Avon? Dr. Patrick Grant, a friend of Irwin, manages to link the seemingly unconnected occurrences of the death of a dog, a further suicide, and a series of art robberies in coming to an conclusion. That, however, is not what is seems, being only the prelude to a massive deception. Grant himself is threatened, and unless he can escape unscathed from a concert at the Festival Hall, the secret of Irwin's death will die with him.
Dead In The Morning
Imagine an old lady who was hated because of her arrogance and cruelty towards her children, and whose lives she dominated, becoming a murder victim. But it is the housekeeper who is found dead. Had a mistake been made and the wrong woman killed? Dr. Patrick Grant uses his powers of logic and deduction to determine this is not the case, but he can only prove it at the expense of incriminating an innocent person. How does he solve this particular conundrum?
Grave Matters
Amelia Brinton, a retired headmistress of a top girl's school, app
ears to have accidently fallen to her death in Greece. Her friend, a Miss Forest, also meets her death having been pushed down stairs in the British Museum. Dr. Patrick Grant connects the two events and his investigations lead him to a quiet backwater village in Hampshire. Yet more mysteries unfold; a dog drowns in shallow water, there is a case of food poisoning, and finally a house appears to be haunted. There is then another murder. What connects these events and why was Amelia Brinton killed. It takes Grant's full powers of logic and deduction, with a little help from the police, to get to the bottom of what is a spine tingling mystery and ultimate crime story.
Mortal Remains
Dr. Patrick Grant does not believe that Felix Lomax died accidentally. The unfortunate Lomax was thought to be lecturing on a luxury cruise liner, but is found washed ashore on a lonely beach in Crete. Grant's investigations take him upon a trail which eventually leads to the tombs of Mycenae, where he ends up risking his own life in an effort to determine the truth.
Silent Witness
The Austrian Alpine ski resort of Greutz is the scene of rivalry between an English party and some new arrivals. The tension mounts with the weather closing in, when blizzards envelope the resort and avalanches threaten. Dr. Patrick Grant's particular powers of logic and reasoning are needed, however, when a member of the party is discovered murdered. Why should a seemingly insignificant individual become a victim?
B. Other Titles
Devil's Work
Alan Parker cannot bring himself to tell his wife that he has lost his job. Each day he goes off to 'work', leaving her in both ignorance and trusting her little ambitions for them will be met. Other than playing out this particular deception, Alan is generally honest and intensely loyal, but that all changes when he happens across a child after an accident and then meets her mother, with whom he forms a friendship. The double life he then leads is exposed when the child goes missing and the police commence an investigation, with suspicion falling directly upon him. There are yet more twists to be revealed in this highly regarded novel.
The Hand of Death
We meet George Fortescue and Ronald Trimm. The former appears to be a very gentle man who is, in every sense of the word, ordinary. Trimm, though, is a successful small businessman who nonetheless feels deprived in one area because of his frigid, yet almost controlling, wife. Pornographic magazines fill the void for a while, but then he encounters a willing widow. However, when two rapes and murders occur it is Fortescue who receives the attention of the police. What is it about this man that allows him to become the chief suspect?
Pieces of Justice
In this collection of crime stories, readers will be delighted to find Dr. Patrick Grant making a welcome re-appearance. Also included are stories about a long held grudge and a wrongdoing with unforeseen later consequences, and others, all on a par with Margaret Yorke's much admired full length works.
Safely To The Grave
The Times referred to this work as a superior psychothriller and it certainly lives up to the epithet. The central character is Mick Harvey, who has just been released after a spell in prison. He enjoys frightening people – it is his way of gaining a thrill. One day he encounters Laura and Marion, who subsequently report him for dangerous driving. Thereafter, Mick has one thought only on his mind – how to exact revenge. With what might seem a simple plot at first glance, the author manages to keep the reader on tenterhooks right up to the fitting conclusion.
Serious Intent
Following retirement, Marigold Darwin returns to her home village. She meets two young boys, Mark and Steve, who hang around The Willows, where old Tom Morton lives. His housekeeper Ivy sometimes babysits Mark, although this may be a mistake. Neither boy is in the least concerned about others, regarding deception and theft as normal behaviour. The same is true of two friends, who have a seriously disturbed mother. Marigold is gradually drawn into the lives of all and becomes aware of serious parenting shortcomings, along with real fears and dangers. Tensions mount and in an intricate plot danger looms, with Marigold's own life being placed on the line.
A Small Deceit
This is a case of the chance meeting of two people, known to each other, who have both assumed false identities. William Adams was sent to prison for rape, and in order to avoid this being known upon following his release, when he embarks upon a series of scams, he hides behind his new persona. He then meets Desmond Baxter, who he recognises as the judge who sentenced him. But Baxter is not his real name. Why is he also hiding his identity? Might Adams indulge in a little blackmail? However, unknown to him, the judge has recognised Adams. After weaving many twists and turns, with her usual skill Margaret Yorke presents the reader with a wholly unexpected outcome.
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