“Yeah, my rat poison, but it was in a packet, not a jar.”
“Look Dan, we are going to have to take a statement from you which covers how you came to be the gardener here and a few other details, including why you have only just contacted us.”
“Yeah, no problem, I liked George and played chess with him once or twice when we got the board out in the garden sunshine, I owe him. I don’t read so never saw anything in the papers and I don’t watch much telly. Because I haven’t been well lately I missed the last couple of times I should have been here to cut the grass.”
“Have you ever opened this before?”
“No, but it’s obvious to me that no one would have two identical jemmies that have never had much use other than to prise something open. Let’s have a go.”
He handed one of the jemmies to John, and they both bent to look for the slightest part that they could get the jemmy into between the wood and concrete. With an exclamation, Dan slid the end of his jemmy into a minute indentation and pointed to another about a quarter of the way round from his. John put the straight end of his jemmy into it, and they both pushed and the jemmies slid down and under the concrete so they could lever it upwards at an angle out of the hole.
The problem was that they needed both hands on the jemmies to keep the concrete out of the hole, and Alison made it quite plain she was not putting her hands under the concrete in case they dropped it. Dan let his side down and was off back towards the shed: he was in and out again in seconds, and heading back with two six foot iron spikes.
“I always wondered why he had these, they must go under it.”
They both lent on their jemmies, and Alison slid the spikes under the concrete holding it perfectly just above the hole. Now they could get their hands under the raised side, the two men realised that the concrete would roll over the spikes, and sit on the grass alongside the hole. Not half as hard as it originally appeared, and all three reached the same conclusion that one person could have done it by himself if he knew what he was doing to start with.
John proffered the £10 note, but Dan said, “Keep it, I want to see what’s down there.”
As the concrete lid was pushed onto the grass, all three peered into the disclosed hole. The wooden lip which the concrete lid sat on was only an inch or two deep with the diameter of the hole about four feet across. At the base of the hole, which was about ten feet deep, was a solid concrete floor, and the circular side of the hole appeared completely bricked around. Dan, who had done some bricklaying in his long career as an odd jobber, could appreciate the skill of laying bricks in what looked like a perfect circle. The remainder of the bush above prevented light permeating right to the floor, but they could all just make out the shape of a box at the edge by the wall.
John said to Dan, “You seem to have all the ideas, have you got a ladder?”
“Dan was on his belly hanging over the side looking into the hole, “No, but I don’t think we’ll need one. There are some bricks set out from the wall that look like they are steps.”
Neither John or Alison had seen them until Dan pointed them out, and Alison immediately jumped at the chance of going into the hole claiming to be the lightest and fittest.
John had to remind her about preserving the item for forensic examination, so it was her turn to run back up the garden to her car to collect what she thought was a big enough exhibit bag and some latex gloves. In the time she was gone, John and Dan chatted amicably and John found out a little bit more about Dan and his work at the bungalow. Alison, in her haste on returning, nearly fell into the hole in her desire to get to the box, but after steadying herself, she found the first brick with her searching foot, and began the short decent. At the bottom of the hole, she could see a lot easier than at the top, and soon had the box in the clear plastic bag. It was a reasonably modern type metal box with a key lock that looked to her like a petty cash box. Frustratingly though, it was locked. Nevertheless, it wasn’t rusty.
Climbing out of the hole was a lot harder than going down when her hands were held by John until her feet were half way down, and she jumped the remainder. Coming up, she had to hold on to individual bricks which only protruded a couple of inches from the wall, and it took her nearly five minutes to find both foot and hand holds to get high enough for John to grab her outstretched clasping hand. It was as though she were in a lift, her feet left the bricks and she was pulled clear of the hole and deposited unceremoniously on the grass by the one hand of John. Her skirt had grass stains that she couldn’t see, but she knew they would be there. This box had to be worth it.
She took the bag out from inside her jacket where she’d placed it for the ascent, and gave it to John.
Dan said, “The jemmy will open that,” but was informed quickly about the need to preserve it for fingerprints and other forensics.
He was disheartened by this as he had known the concrete circle had been there for years and now he had actually seen into the hole and what was there, he felt cheated that he couldn’t see the contents of the box. John passed the bag back to Alison and putting an arm round Dan’s shoulder gently steered him back towards the house chatting about the garden as they went as though they were the best of friends. Dan was happy to make a statement, and agreed a time to be at the station, and then realised he was late for his next client’s lawn. Alison moved her car, and Dan disappeared towards the road, emitting noxious diesel fumes from the truck as he went.
38
Thursday 9th June 2011
They both walked round to the kitchen door and let themselves in and went to the places that they had seen some unaccountable keys during their previous searches. Alison found them in a small saucer which also contained a miniature compass and a material tape measure. It was tucked away in the top corner of a cupboard in the kitchen, and had somehow avoided becoming one of Jimmy’s many exhibits.
Carefully taking the box, which showed no sign of corrosion, out of the bag, she inserted the smallest key easily into the lock without resistance and turned it with little effort. It unlocked with a soft click, and Alison opened the lid. Filling the inside was some foam and cut into it was a shape which housed an old Webley .38 revolver, and a box of fifty rounds of ammunition. Both of them stared at it, each with their own thoughts as to why it was there. After what seemed a millennium of silence, they discussed their course of action.
John went into the lounge and sat in the same chair that he had occupied previously. He picked up the phone, and called Paul. The pair chatted about the hole and the find, and agreed on what they should do. Jimmy would be sent to the bungalow with the reprimanded PoLSA team of two specialists to go over the area around the hole and in it, and take possession of the box and firearm and arrange ballistic tests.
As he relayed the decisions to Alison, she realised that there would be a delay of an hour or two while arrangements were made for the search team, and hunger suddenly struck her. Two poached eggs wouldn’t keep a mouse going. She made it quite clear that she was not going to wait, and asked if John wanted a sandwich before she headed for her car and to a local shop in Barnham.
John sat in George Armstrong’s chair in meditational silence. He looked about. He’d missed something, but he couldn’t see what. Pressing the button on the side of the chair, it slowly rose with a whirr to its limit forcing him to stand up. Moving into the conservatory end of the room, he stood stock still looking out of the windows, and down the garden towards the hole. The hackles on his neck rose and made him shiver. He normally felt this when he was being watched. There was no one there. Perhaps it was because a person had been murdered in the room.
Dan had told him he’d been the gardener for the last eight or nine years, and John could see he had done an exceptional job. The only thing he had left was the mahonia which George had forbidden him to touch and told him to allow to spread. John sat in one of the cane chairs by the window, and watched the birds that were enjoying the lawn. It was pleasant just sitting and watch
ing as they went about their business of searching for food. John could imagine George spent a lot of time here with a glass of wine, just watching the birds foraging. He had catered for their needs with several bird boxes in the trees, a small water holder and various feeders scattered about. Dan had told him there were rabbits and that George had forbidden him to kill them or fill their holes in. John couldn’t see any rabbits or holes, but didn’t doubt Dan at all. The only thing George hated according to Dan were rats. He had several packets of different poisons on the go at any one time, but never in a jar.
Alison drove slowly into view up the drive towards the garage at the rear of the bungalow. John could understand George’s hatred for rats, and thought that the small ditch would probably be where they were. When she walked into the lounge, John was still in pensive mood, and she told him she had seen him seated in the window like an OAP as she had driven along the drive. John wasn’t offended, but confided in Alison that he was sure that he had missed something.
Before she could stop herself, she said, “What?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t have missed it, would I?”
“See your point, sorry.” She stood by the chair looking out of the window towards the hole, and gave an involuntary shiver, “Someone’s just walked over my grave,” and then, “What now?” as John swung to look at her.
John was brusque to the point of rudeness when he asked her why she had said it. Alison was taken aback by the sudden inquisition and responded with a quip that she didn’t know: she just shivered. He explained to her his feelings when he looked down the garden, and she shivered again. Both scoured the garden but saw nothing.
“We’ve missed something, and it’s bloody obvious, and that’s why we can’t see it.”
They discussed Dan and the hole and that he had a key to the shed, but nothing about him worried either of them, including the use of a false last name.
Both went out to the still open shed, just as Dan had left it, and looked about inside. Although Dan had mentioned packets of poison, there were none visible, just a wooden wheel barrow with some grass care rakes, and some garden tools neatly in clips along the side. The jemmies had been in a drawer which had been left open by Dan in his haste, and the spikes had been leaning against the old wooden chest of drawers. The team of two specialist PoLSA searchers had already gone through the shed, and found nothing in addition to the jar of poison. Neither could see anything out of the ordinary. John left the shed and walked very slowly towards the front garden and the hole. There was something else, but he was damned if he could see it, but he was sure it was in the garden.
Alison joined him, and he asked her to tell him exactly what she saw. She listed everything she could, and even surprised John with her knowledge of the names of flowers, shrubs and trees. They walked up and down the garden several times, and found a couple of rabbit holes, but still nothing, and then John with a flourish decided on another course, and headed back to the house and the lounge. He went straight to the fire place and took the lifeline off the mantel piece and pressed it.
39
Thursday 9th June 2011
“Hello Mr Armstrong, this is Wendy at the lifeline control, are you alright?” The voice, although soft seemed to echo around the bungalow but was coming from the control box at the phone.
John responded by identifying himself and informing Wendy that George was dead. After a pause, Wendy stated that the coroner normally informed them of a death, and arranged for the collection of all the lifeline accessories, but she had never heard of one of their clients being murdered, so she didn’t know the correct procedure. John asked her where the microphone was that he was using to talk to her, and she told him briefly how the system worked, and that the control box opened up a telephone connection without the phone being lifted from the cradle. She explained that if there was no reply to her response to the pushed button, she called a nominated person to go to the house, or the emergency services. When John asked who the nominated person was, neither he, nor Alison were surprised that she said, “Mr Chaplin.” He thanked her for her help, and heard a click which he assumed was the phone being disconnected.
John asked Alison, “Do you play chess?”
“Yes. I think I could beat you.”
John sat down in one of the cane chairs which was by the white side of the board and began.
He didn’t give her the option of who was to be white.
She was not even surprised by John’s laid back attitude, and took the position by black.
Both however, felt uneasy sitting by the window in the conservatory and after a few minutes she passed comment that she believed it would kill enough time until Jimmy could get there, but was surprised when John said that wasn’t the purpose.
Alison put the obvious question, “What is the purpose?”
She was rewarded with the ambiguous answer, “I don’t know.”
They both saw the movement in the hedge on the other side of the ditch towards the furthest part of the drive at the same time, and were already on their feet when Mr Chaplin came into view. With apparent ease, he seemed to clear the ditch and step onto the drive, looking in the direction of the road, and then walked towards the bungalow. John resumed his seat, and started to talk to himself in a hushed whisper.
“No, he’s not been watching. Can get here without going on the road though so wouldn’t be seen. No motive.”
Then to Alison, “What do you think?”
She had anticipated the question, “He found the body, so he had time to do whatever he wanted.”
Both watched him approach along the drive and noticed he didn’t walk in a straight line because he was looking into the garden. The concrete lid and the newly cut mahonia were not visible from the drive, so he wasn’t distracted by that, he was just enjoying Dan’s efforts in George’s garden.
He got to the back door and walked into the bungalow and then the lounge, but kept as far from the fireplace and where he had found George as possible. They greeted one another, and Chaplin told them he knew they were there because he had been contacted by Wendy at the lifeline control. Then looking at the chess board, he quickly assessed the pieces position and proffered the opinion that Black should resign. Alison looked hurt, but John knew from the opening moves that she wasn’t very good and that he could win quite easily. John asked question after question and Chaplin answered without hesitation: he knew that Dan had a key to the shed, he knew he had missed his last appointment because he was ill, that he attended twice a month, once to mow the lawn and once to tend the garden. He said that George was a person of routine and did not like it to be broken. If someone had an appointment with George, they had to be on time, and the nurses knew this.
“Do you know if Mr Armstrong wore his lifeline button?”
Chaplin thought for a couple of seconds before responding, “He often wore it if he was outside the bungalow, or doing something unusual in the house when the nurses were not here.”
“Like what?”
“Well. Washing up dirty crockery. Really anything which could cause him to overbalance in his wheelchair.”
“Where did he leave the button when he wasn’t wearing it?”
“On top of the mantelpiece usually. When I came to play chess, he often asked me to find it because it could often be somewhere ridiculous like in the bedroom or bathroom.”
Chaplin who was sitting in a chair that Alison had pulled up for him, sat bolt upright and stared out of the window and down the garden. She saw shock on his face and was immediately worried, she couldn’t see what he was looking at. John saw it as well and scoured the furthest point of the garden.
“What is it?” she demanded with a quavering voice displaying a slight hint of fear.
Chaplin turned to look at her, paused and said, “The mahonia, what have you done to it?”
Alison practically shouted at him, “Shit. You frightened the life out of me,” and sat down heavily into the chair which she didn’t realise
she had risen from.
John soon established that Chaplin did not know what was beneath it, and suggested they go and look. On the walk down the garden, Chaplin and Alison chatted about the various shrubs and trees, and Chaplin explained that the bungalow had been built by a nursery owner. Some of the trees were rare to the UK and Chaplin pointed out the differing canopies that each formed. One, a Canadian spruce, attracted squirrels and on cue, two were visible in its higher branches. John stopped and watched them for a few seconds, and Chaplin told him that George tolerated them like rabbits, but he called them ‘tree rats’.
Chaplin looked into the hole, and was wondering how in all the time he had been visiting George, he had not seen it before. He knelt down and rubbed his hand round the side and found one of the protruding bricks. John watched, surprised that Chaplin knew what to feel for, but then by way of explanation, he said that it was one of the finest examples of a Second World War Home Guard storage hole he had ever seen. Continuing, Chaplin explained that when it was thought that England would be invaded by the Germans, the Home Guard needed somewhere to keep their weapons safe, and constructed some pits dotted along the South Coast. They were well made so that weapons would not get damp, and the pits would be large enough for a person to hide in if need be. Furthermore, the pits were usually well hidden, as was shown by the fact that Chaplin knew George’s garden well, yet didn’t know about the pit he was now staring into.
After he had seen enough, Chaplin stood up, and they all ambled back towards the bungalow and into the lounge just as Jimmy drove up the drive. Alison watched him from the conservatory as he went past and towards the garage. Soon the back door opened, and Jimmy and two young PCs, about Alison’s age, and dressed in overalls, joined them in the lounge. John explained to them what had happened at the Mahonia bush, and went into the kitchen with Jimmy, and showed him the box.
Jimmy, one of the PCs and Alison went off back down the garden leaving Chaplin and John alone in the conservatory. The other PC had moved to the shed. They spoke for a short while before Chaplin left to go home via the hedge and ditch from where he had originally appeared. John sat by the chess board watching the three moving around by the Mahonia bush, and thought, ‘Why not.’
An Urgent Murder Page 12
