The Loophole

by Vera Morris

  Laurel explained.

  ‘Right, let’s move to the dining room and start the meeting,’ Frank said.

  ‘Don’t I get any tea and cake?’ Stuart moaned.

  ‘You go ahead, I’ll bring it in,’ Mabel said.

  ‘Who’s going to take the minutes as Dorothy’s not here?’ Stuart asked, as he sat down at the dining room table.

  ‘Thank you for volunteering, Stuart. Try not to get too many crumbs in the typewriter when you type them up,’ Frank said, winking at Laurel.

  Stuart blew out his cheeks. ‘I’ve changed my mind, it was better without you.’

  ‘I’ll do the minutes; Stuart needs to drink his tea and I think he’s got something important to tell us,’ Laurel said.

  Stuart Elderkin’s grin reappeared. ‘I have. Don’t know what it means, but it must mean something.’

  Tea drunk, cake eaten, pipe lit, Stuart took his notebook from a briefcase and flicked through the pages. ‘As you know I interviewed the families and friends of the two missing girls and there is absolutely nothing new to report, except their disappearances are out of character -both of them. After they joined the camp staff they didn’t come home very often, and the visits became less and less. They both told their parents and friends how much they enjoyed their jobs and Roberta did mention Sam Salter had taken her out a few times and she really liked him, even though he was older than her.’ He paused to take a deep suck on the briar pipe, and then blew out a stream of smoke.

  ‘Thanks for doing all that leg work, Stuart. Sorry you didn’t get the reward you deserved,’ Frank said.

  ‘That’s detective work for you,’ Stuart said. ‘It has to be done, you can’t leave anything unexplored; you don’t strike gold very often ...’

  ‘I’m sure you were thorough, and...’ Stuart was smirking. Frank groaned. ‘Come on then, tell us what you have found.’

  Stuart leant forward. ‘We agreed I’d look into the family of the man who was hanged for the murder of Mrs Coltman and her son, John. I must say I couldn’t see how it could be connected to the missing girls, and I’m still not sure what the connection is, but there must be one.’

  Frank tapped his fingers on the table and Laurel wriggled impatiently.

  ‘I traced the family back to their original address, but they’d moved soon after their son was hanged. I managed to find a few neighbours who remembered them and the murder case. They said the family -Mum, Dad, and a younger brother -were devastated. They wouldn’t believe he was guilty, even when the damning evidence against Adrian Hovell was presented in court. The newspapers were full of it, and one old man I spoke to said people turned against the family when he was sentenced to death, and they learned he’d raped the mother and killed her baby. It was especially hard on the young brother; he was picked on at school and the teachers didn’t do anything to stop the bullying.’

  Laurel looked up from her notes. ‘Children can be cruel, it must have been hell for him, and his mum and dad.’

  ‘Were any of the people who remembered Adrian surprised he was a murderer?’ Frank asked.

  Stuart gave a last puff and knocked out the pipe on an ashtray. ‘The old man said he only started to believe the charges when he read the evidence in the News of the World. Said Adrian was quiet, read a lot, liked birdwatching, and the last time he’d spoken to him, when he was home on leave, Adrian had said he didn’t like being in the Forces; he found some of the men crude; all they were interested in was boozing, smoking and chasing skirts. Couldn’t wait for the war to be over.’

  ‘It’s the quiet ones you have to be careful of,’ Mabel said, looking at Stuart.

  Frank leant back against his chair. ‘Is that it?’ he asked, disappointment rising from his guts.

  Stuart shook his head. ‘That’s just for starters. After a lot of digging -I nearly gave up at one point -I managed to find out where the family moved to. They’d changed their name, but both parents died recently, within a year of each other, and the younger son, now a man, has moved away.’ He stopped and looked at them, grinning.

  ‘Come on spit it out, Stuart!’ Frank snapped.

  ‘Don’t deny me my moment in the limelight! The boy’s Christian name was... is Gareth.’

  Frank’s stomach clenched. Was his analysis of the suspects right? Was this the murderer?

  Stuart sat up straight. ‘The family changed their name from Hovell to. Hinney. I believe Gareth Hinney, who’s the head gardener at Salter’s camp, is none other than Gareth Hovell, the young brother of Adrian Hovell who was hanged for the murder of Audrey Coltman and her son, John.’

  There was silence. Frank looked at Laurel.

  ‘Could it be coincidence?’ she asked.

  Frank shook his head. ‘No. I don’t know how this ties up with the disappearance of the girls, and the murders of Bert Wiles and Belinda Tweedie, but this morning after a good lunch and several glasses of wine, I went through the case and I kept coming back to Gareth Hinney.’

  ‘Why?’ Laurel asked.

  ‘We have absolutely no clues, or even half-clues, pointing to Hinney. There’s more evidence pointing to Coltman being the murderer. I based my reasoning purely on an analysis of the characters of the suspects. He, Hinney, is the one person who shows no humanity, no feelings at all for others; all he shows is contempt, and I suspect hatred. The only other pointer to him is the plants he’s growing in the camp’s nursery.’

  ‘The ones he said were streptocarpus?’ Laurel asked.

  ‘Yes. I remembered what they were at the end of my lunch; it must have been the Chablis oiling my memory. I’m sure those plants weren’t streptocarpus but mandrake, Mandragora officinarum, which is full of alkaloids, poisons and, as I remember, was used as an anaesthetic in surgery in ancient times. Also, he’s growing henbane in an outside nursery bed.’

  ‘The wine?’ Stuart asked.

  He held up his hand. ‘We don’t know what happened to the girls, we suspect they’ve been murdered, we don’t know how they died, but whoever murdered Bert Wiles is a sadistic sod, who enjoyed torturing the poor man. Belinda Tweedie had to be killed quickly; she was connected to the murderer in some way. Revie, hopefully, will soon get the results of the analysis of the wine that was meant to drug or kill Dorothy. If Tweedie had been successful, I think we’d be in the terrible position of looking for the murderer of Dorothy, as well as the others. ‘ ‘No!’ Mabel’s strangled cry made the hairs on the back of his arms stand to attention.

  ‘Stuart, we ought to get Dorothy out of that holiday camp NOW!’

  Stuart’s eyes bulged. ‘Calm yourself, Mabel. Dorothy can look after herself, she showed good sense getting out of that woman’s house. You know what she’s like, she wouldn’t thank you if you start to make a fuss.’

  Mabel’s body quivered as she turned to Laurel. ‘And, I don’t think you ought to go back.’

  ‘What about me, Mabel,’ Frank asked. ‘Don’t I count?’ She pushed out her lower lip, looking like a middle-aged rebellious teenager. ‘You’re all right, you’re a man.’ Laurel snorted.

  There was silence.

  Mabel, her breasts heaving, looked down at the table. Gradually pink came back into her cheeks. ‘Sorry, I overreacted. It was the thought Dorothy could have been drugged and murdered.’

  Laurel went to her and put an arm round her shoulders. ‘I felt the same way. I thought at one point she was the murder victim; my legs turned to jelly and unfortunately Charlie Frost was on hand to give me support.’

  Frank smiled as he imagined how Charlie’s actions were received. ‘Let’s get back to Hinney. We need to find a connection between him and Belinda Tweedie. Laurel, any ideas?’

  ‘I’ve never seen them together.’ Laurel paused, her forehead wrinkling. ‘But, Dorothy did mention Hinney brought flowers for Belinda, to put in Sam Salter’s office.’ Stuart nodded knowingly. ‘That’s a connection.’

  The phone rang. Frank picked it up. He listened, then mouthed to the others, ‘It’s Revie
.’ He switched the phone to conference so they could all hear.

  ‘I’ve got two pieces of information for you, one you’re not going to like, not sure I like it either. I’ve had to let Coltman go. We found no evidence he’d been in either Bert Wiles’ cottage or Belinda Tweedie’s house, and there were no signs in his cottage to connect him to the missing girls. However, we’re keeping him under covert observation; bit difficult in Orford, but I’ve put my two best men on to it.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ whispered Laurel, ‘I don’t want it to be him. He’s had such a rotten life.’

  ‘Women,’ Stuart whispered back.

  ‘Who can I hear talking in the background? Is it the lovely Miss Mabel? Tell her the camp’s bacon butties were a pale shadow compared to hers.’

  Mabel fluttered her lashes at Stuart, who sighed.

  ‘We’re all here except Dorothy, who’s stayed at the camp to help out,’ Frank said.

  There was silence for a few seconds. ‘Your Dorothy had a close call with death, no doubt about that. Thank God she’s got a nose for danger.’

  There was an intake of breaths, and the temperature of the dining room seemed to drop several degrees.

  ‘You’ve had the results of the analysis of the wine?’ Frank asked.

  ‘I have. It’s not complete, they need to do further tests, but they’ve found something called alkaloids in it, they think they’re plant alkaloids. Don’t understand the chemistry, but the boffins say they need time to work out which plants they came from.’

  Frank’s vertebrae clicked together and air hissed from his throat. ‘Revie, write this down. Get on to whoever’s working on this. Tell them the plants are probably mandrake and henbane.’ He spelt out the Latin names. ‘Mandragora officinarm, and Hyoscanmus niger.’

  There was silence. He imagined Revie writing on his pad and staring at the names. He waited for the riposte.

  ‘Come on, Diamond. How do you know that?’

  ‘Because I’ve seen both those plants growing in the holiday camp’s nursery gardens, grown by Gareth Hinney. The mandrake plants were in the greenhouse. He lied to me when I asked him what they were. He said they were streptocarpus.’

  ‘Strepto what? Is that a poisonous plant?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So how do you know so much about deadly plants?’

  ‘Don’t know if I ever told you, but I’ve got a degree in botany.’

  There was a snort. ‘Didn’t have you down as a pansy lover, still, well-spotted.’

  ‘Revie, I think you ought to bring Hinney in. I think he’s your man.’ The other three moved closer to him, the air tense with excitement, Laurel’s sweet breath caressing his cheek.

  The long silence that followed knotted Frank’s stomach. He wanted to shout down the phone for Revie to get his finger out and get hold of Hinney before anyone else was harmed.

  A dry cough. ‘Have you got anything else on him? Anyone could have taken those plants from his garden. It’s probably not illegal to grow them. I can find that out, but it’s not enough to make a case.’

  Laurel dug him in the ribs. ‘Tell him about who he really is.’

  ‘I’m passing you over to Stuart Elderkin, who can tell you what he’s discovered about Hinney. I don’t know how it all ties up, but there must be something we’re not seeing.’

  Stuart, looking pleased, explained his findings to Revie.

  ‘Well, that’s a facer,’ Revie said. ‘I’ll bring him in straight away, see what explanations he gives for growing strange plants and why he’s come back to the area where his brother committed a terrible murder.’

  Frank’s shoulders relaxed. ‘Thanks, Revie. I’ll sleep easier tonight knowing he’s in your tender care.’

  There was a wheezy laugh. ‘When are you and Laurel coming back to the camp?’

  ‘We were going to sleep here and leave early in the morning.’

  Another wheezy laugh. ‘In separate beds, I hope.’

  Laurel leant closer. ‘No. We’re having a foursome with Mabel and Stuart. Pity you can’t come, we could make a fivesome!’

  Frank glared at her. Stuart sniggered and Mabel’s face coloured up.

  ‘I thought you were a nice girl, Miss Bowman. I think I’d better arrest you as well, I’m not sure that’s legal!’

  Laurel mouthed ‘Sorry,’ to the other three.

  ‘Sleep well, pets. You’ve deserved it. Let’s hope Hinney feels like having a little chat. See you tomorrow.’ The phone went dead.

  Hinney chatting? He didn’t think it would be that easy. Frank turned off the phone and turned to the other three. ‘Let’s hope I’m right and Hinney is the murderer, otherwise there could be more mayhem.’

  ‘I could do with a drink. Anyone else?’ Laurel asked.

  ‘A small brandy would be nice,’ Mabel said.

  Stuart got up. ‘I’ll get them. Whisky?’ Laurel and Frank nodded.

  Laurel looked at him. ‘That was brilliant, Frank. Recognising those plants and immediately correlating them to the drugged wine.’

  The genuine warmth and admiration in her voice gave him a good feeling.

  Stuart came back with two bottles, a jug of water and four glasses.

  They saluted each other.

  ‘Here’s to crime,’ Stuart said.

  ‘Here’s to solving crime,’ Laurel said.

  As Frank raised his glass to his lips the phone shrilled out again. ‘Must be Revie again, asking for more advice!’

  The phone was still on conference mode. Dorothy’s voice, shrill and taught filled the room. ‘It’s Dorothy! Who’s speaking?’

  They put their glasses down, leaning forward. Frank’s throat tightened. Something was wrong. ‘Dorothy, it’s Frank. We’re all here. What’s the matter? Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes. Yes. I’m all right. It’s Stephen and Sam. Sam’s going mad, someone’s taken Stephen.’

  She was gabbling, not making sense. ‘Dorothy, try and calm down. Start from the beginning, take it slowly.’

  Her breathing was rapid, she gulped and it seemed an age before she spoke again. ‘Right, yes, just let me think for a moment. Sorry, but I’m sure they’ll both be killed.’ Her voice rose again. There were swallowings and coughs.

  Laurel was white-faced, Mabel horror struck and Stuart picked up his glass and knocked back its contents in one g°.

  A final cough. ‘I’m OK now. I’ll try and remain calm. Sorry. Someone take notes.’

  That was better. Miss Bossy Boots.

  ‘I was coming down the stairs at Sudboume Hall, when I heard a shout, and a terrible moan. I hurried down to find Sam Salter holding a letter, the envelope on the carpet. He turned to me, his face grey, horror-struck, his hands trembling. “He’s got Stephen. He’s going to torture him, kill him.” I went up to him and tried to take the letter from his hands, but he knocked me away.’

  ‘Who’s got Stephen?’

  ‘Sam said, “It’s Hinney and he’ll kill Stephen unless I follow his instructions. I’ve got to try and save him.” He was wild; he’s not thinking straight.’

  Frank broke in and told her about Hinney.

  ‘My God, I can’t make sense of this.’

  ‘What happened next?’ Frank asked. The tension round him was electric.

  ‘I said he should call the police immediately. He replied if he did Hinney would kill Stephen. He must meet Hinney and try to rescue Stephen. He had to go to Orford quay.’

  ‘He’s gone?’

  ‘Yes. He made me swear I wouldn’t call the police. I haven’t, I called you. You can get hold of Revie.’

  ‘Did he take anything with him?’

  ‘I’m not sure. He went into the kitchen, so he may have taken a knife.’

  ‘Do we know if Stephen has been taken? Hinney might have set a trap for Sam. Stephen may be safe.’

  Another gulp. ‘Sorry I should have told you. Sam did show some common sense, he checked. Stephen was supposed to be going to London to see his family,
but Sam found his car in the garage. One of the doors was open and there was blood on the garage floor.’

  ‘Did Sam leave the letter?’

  ‘No, he took it with him.’

  ‘No clues as to where Stephen is being kept?’

  ‘No, but if they’re meeting at the quay, then...’

  A picture shot into his mind. The view from the quay. The mysterious spit of land called Orford Ness; forbidden territory, riddled with unexploded armaments. Bert Wiles had a boat and may have poached on Orford Ness, may have seen something there which scared him, and that may have been the reason he was killed. What about Thomas Coltman? Did he collect his shells from the Ness’s beaches? Has he seen anything?

  ‘Dorothy, Laurel and I will drive back to Orford now. Stuart will contact Revie. He’s out looking for Hinney. I’m sure he’s the murderer; I’ll give you details later. The police will be with you shortly, but the priority is to find Sam and Stephen.’

  ‘Right. What are you two going to do?’ Her voice was full of trepidation.

  ‘We need to get on to Orford Ness. I have a feeling that’s where Hinney has taken Sam, and I think we’ll need the help of Thomas Coltman. Let’s hope he’ll help us after all he’s been through.’

  Chapter 20

  Laurel’s boot studs clattered against the hall floor. She carried a parka and an extra jumper and hoped it would fit Frank.

  Frank was waiting at the front door, his body tense and impatient. She threw him the jumper. ‘Thanks. Ready?’ he asked.

  She pointed to his feet. ‘Hadn’t you better get your boots?’

  ‘No time. It’ll have to do.’

  She didn’t think jeans and trainers were going to cut it through water and mud.

  ‘Here, borrow my waterproof,’ Stuart said. ‘Bit big for you, but it’ll keep you dry.’

  ‘Thanks, Stuart. We’ll take my car, I’ll drive.’

  Her stomach clenched.

  Mabel rushed out of the kitchen and thrust a plastic bag into Laurel’s hand. ‘Few things to keep you going.’

  She hugged her.

  ‘Come on, we need to shift,’ Frank said.

  ‘Will we go to Dorothy first, before we see Coltman?’