by Daisy White
“She believed that?”
“That’s what Susie used to tell her when they went out hunting for girls. ‘Go and find a little friend to bring home for tea’ she’d say. Ella would believe anything. She’s a sweet girl, Emily . . . sorry, Ella. She used to go down into the cellar sometimes and try to talk to the girls down there. She used to steal some food and water for them, or undo the ropes. Once I even caught her bandaging up some man’s arm. I had to get her out of there quick so Stocker never saw what she was doing.”
We stand in silence for a moment, smoking, Trixie darting her eyes between us.
I swallow hard, studying her lined face. “Thank you, Trixie. It can’t have been easy talking about this. Just . . . one last thing. Has DS Appleton been visiting the Stockers in the last few years?”
Trixie nods slowly, picking at a scab on one bony arm. “The last year, he’s been making a nuisance of himself, yes. Susie told me they were running out of money, and there was a chance they might lose the house. Of course they had no proper friends, but Stocker knew he could blackmail Appleton, especially with Beverly just due for release. Susie warned him Appleton was turning nasty just a few months ago, but Stocker has been a bit crazier, drinking more, and he kept asking for the money, and Appleton kept fobbing him off. Trouble is, he still thinks he’s a player, when he’s got nothing left. Doesn’t matter now Susie’s gone. He won’t care if he sleeps under the pier as long as he’s got a bottle in his hand.”
“Can I have the address of the Stockers’ house in Brighton?” I ask.
“67, Landsdown Road, but I told you, it’s over.”
But it isn’t over. Evil on that scale can never be ‘just over’. Underneath Trixie’s brittle, self-sufficient façade, there are flashes of emotion that betray her compassion. On impulse I lean over and give her a quick hug.
“Get off! I need to go now, but do what you have to, and if you need anything, ask Laura.”
“What will you do?”
“What I’ve been doing since I was a kid, looking out for myself. You don’t have to feel sorry for me, I won’t be working with this lump for much longer. Now you can drive me back, Will.”
Will frowns at her, but his earlier coldness seems to have vanished. He half turns to me as if to add to the conversation, but then just shrugs, and pulls out some car keys.
“Thanks Trixie. See you later, Will,” I say, and watch as Trixie marches out of the alley, cigarette in one skinny hand, her shoes tip-tapping on the cobbles.
Will does turn back now, “Ruby, I didn’t know who she was. I had no idea where she came from. She just does a few days in the office and sorts out meetings. If I’d known, I would have told you.”
I don’t know what to believe, so I just nod, and the rain trickles down my neck.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I hear a car start and then roar off up the hill. I don’t know what make it is, but Kenny always calls them ‘all show and no go’ and rolls his eyes.
Later, soaked and still deep in thought, I find myself at our front door without realising how I got there. Luckily I seem to have managed the food shop in my trance. It fits, it all bloody fits. Except we still don’t know why Stocker went for Beverly. The story about the boyfriend double-crossing him makes perfect sense, but Beverly said he worked in the fairground, and then on the dodgems on the pier. Not in the building trade, or the clubs . . . There was also something about the way Trixie told that part of the story, like she didn’t quite believe it either.
I’m so distracted I almost burn the egg and chips, but Mary eats it anyway, and gets up to fry herself another egg.
“Rubes, there isn’t anything else you can do,” she tells me sternly, echoing Johnnie. “The girls are safe, and I know you want these men to be punished, but as Trixie said, it's over. It's a horrible, awful thing to have uncovered, but it is in the past. How was Will, anyway? Did he give you presents or anything?”
“No, thank goodness. You know, I just can’t believe he works with Trixie, and he didn’t know anything. The whole thing is just so tangled,” I take a gulp of tea. “She was scared of him, but then she was also quite rude about him.”
“Maybe that’s just the way she is. You said her husband died, and she’s got no money. I expect she hates having to work for the same type of men as Stocker and his friends, but if that’s what she knows . . .”
“I suppose so.”
Summer wakes at ten and half past one, but Mary seems to manage OK, and even accepts my offer to change a nappy while she strips the sodden crib sheets. After a feed the baby goes down quietly and sleeps through until six.
I’m still in a bit of a trance the next day at work, my mind niggling away at the problem, when Eve calls me over to answer a telephone call. I’m convinced it’s the long-awaited call from the police, but she shakes her head. “It’s Beverly, love. She sounds in a right old state.”
Heart thumping, I grab the receiver. “Beverly? What’s wrong?”
“It’s Ella! She’s gone again, Ruby, and she’s taken Lily. She’s bloody run away, taken a little bag of the new clothes and bits I bought her and they’ve just gone. I knew I shouldn’t have left her . . .” Beverly’s voice catches and she breaks down into noisy sobs.
“Oh no! Look, Beverly, she can’t have gone far. What did Miss Smith say?” Panic makes my own voice croak, and my heart starts pounding painfully against my ribs. With my free hand, I dig my nails into the reception desk.
“Oh, she was worried, obviously, but she said because they are so far out of town, most runaways end up being found wandering around the Downs. She said she’d rung the police. Ruby, I should never have left her there . . .”
“Beverly, you couldn’t do anything else. We’ll find her. Look, stay by the telephone in case she or anyone rings, and I’ll see if I can find out anything here.”
“I’m going out to Alice’s Farm,” she says stubbornly. “Aunt Sarah can answer the telephone, and that way I can help search.”
“Alright. Ring me if you find them, won’t you? And Beverly, I found out some more last night. I’ll tell you later so I’m not blocking your telephone line if someone is trying to ring,” I say quickly.
I stand for a second biting my lip, glancing up at the clock on the wall. Only half past nine. A whole working day to get through before I can get out and look for Ella. Why would she run away, for God’s sake? She was so strange, so fragile and distant when I met her, and Lily has only just started to speak again.
“Problems, angel?” Johnnie says, dropping some money into our tips tin and beaming as another satisfied customer exits the salon, her new hairdo gleaming in the sunlight.
“Beverly says Ella has run away and taken Lily with her.”
“Oh Lordy, poor Beverly.”
“I know. Why would she do such a thing? She was safe!”
Johnnie narrows his eyes. “Why indeed? If I were you, I’d try and get hold of the woman who runs the orphanage and speak to her — oh, and I hear that Inspector Hammond is busy on another case at the moment, so that may be why he isn’t getting your messages. There was a fire at the Curtain Club, and two people are dead. Apparently it has been suggested that the fire was started deliberately . . .”
“Isn’t the Curtain Club that one under the hotel? The one with the rumours about poofters . . .” I glance quickly around and lower my voice.
“Exactly. Inspector Hammond will not be at all keen to be in charge of that case, so I’m sure he’ll be back on Beverly’s as soon as he can push this one over to someone else. But in the meantime, you can see why he has other things on his mind. Now, Mrs Carpenter is due in at twelve so I can send her off to alert the troops. Her sister in the WI is an absolute godsend for getting the gossip out.”
Miss Smith’s telephone is engaged so I take over shampooing from Catherine and concentrate on my job, jumping every time the telephone rings. As Eve comes back from a lunch break with bulging bags of groceries, I seize the chance to get
back on the reception desk and dial again. She answers quickly, and explains that Beverly has arrived to join in the search. There is no news, though.
“Can you just tell me if the police have been back in touch? I did leave several messages and I just wondered if they had telephoned you directly?” I’ve got what Kenny would call a hunch, but I’m praying I’m wrong.
“Yesterday? Yes, they did. A DS Appleton came over to visit the girls in the evening. I was just telling Beverly that I wanted to let you all know, but he said he was in a rush and just passing.”
My heart gives a painful thump, and my hand grasping the receiver is wet with sweat. “Did he bring the photographs?”
“He did bring some, yes, but the girls didn’t seem to recognise anyone in particular. He was very kind and patient with them, I must say.”
I close my eyes briefly. “Miss Smith, was DS Appleton alone with Ella and Lily at any time when he visited?”
“No . . . well, only when I went to make us all some tea. Why?”
“Did you see him drive away? He definitely went?”
“Yes. But Ruby . . .”
“OK. Is it possible that he could have come back and taken the girls last night? I’m not saying this did happen, but I have been told by a reliable witness . . .” — a picture of skinny, haggard Trixie with her smoke and probably drug-addled mind pops into my head — “a woman, she said that DS Appleton knew all about John Stocker and his liking for young girls. In fact, he was part of Stocker’s workforce. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything when we were there the other day, but it seemed wrong before the police confirmed it . . .”
“Oh Ruby! I . . . I think the girls went to bed early, but Lily likes to do that anyway, because she wakes up with those nightmares and she gets so tired . . .”
“Where did they sleep? In a room on their own? Is it on the ground floor?” I ask impatiently.
“Yes,” she whispers. “Ella asked to share, of course, and I’ve had to put Lily in the old sick bay so she doesn’t disturb the other children when she wakes at night. But I have the room across the hallway. I would have heard an intruder! They would have screamed, surely, if a man came creeping into their room.”
“Not if he told then what he was going to do, and told them to leave the window open,” I say grimly. “They’d been under Stocker’s control for years, in Ella’s case, and they would have known Appleton at once. All he had to do was threaten with something, anything, and they would do whatever he said. I’m sure of it. Can I speak to Beverly, please?”
Beverly is tearful but calm. “I won’t let them win, Ruby. Why would Appleton take the girls now, though? And where would they go?”
“The first place to check is the house on Landsdown Road. Inspector Hammond is tied up with another case, and I think that stupid desk sergeant has just been passing all my messages to Appleton. But you’re right, why the hell take them? It’s a big risk.”
“Not too big, perhaps, if DS Appleton has got all your messages, and thinks they're going to identify him from the photographs. He probably thought he was safe when they didn’t talk, and then Lily was bundled away to Alice’s Farm. Now things have changed, and there is a chance he could lose everything. You said he was taking money from Stocker so maybe he is trying to . . . to get rid of anyone who might incriminate him. Oh God, Ruby, I can’t bear it,” Beverly sobs down the line.
“You’re right. I’ll go down to the police station and see what’s going on. Are you going to stay up there?”
“No. I’ll come down to the salon if you don’t mind. And Ruby? If the police aren’t doing anything, get your reporter boy, Kenny and anyone else you can think of and we’ll go to Landsdown Road ourselves. Just to check. I know he probably wouldn’t have taken them there, but we might be able to find something . . .” Beverly’s voice is shrill with pain now, and even as she stops speaking I can hear her ragged breathing as she fights to control her emotions. “I can’t lose her again, Ruby.”
She says goodbye, and I stand cradling the receiver, oblivious to the sounds and smells of the salon around me. There is another person I can call. Someone who could go down to Stocker’s house now, and who has all the contacts that the police do not, but I don’t want Kenny to get into trouble . . . And Will? I do believe he genuinely didn’t know about Trixie, but he does work for some shady people. I need to keep trying to edge him out of my life, not invite him in. I’ve already messed up by not telling Miss Smith about DS Appleton. I can’t risk the lives of two innocent girls by doing the wrong thing.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Ruby, can you do Miss Kent’s manicure now, please?” Johnnie asks.
I follow him out the back with the box of polishes in my hands. “Johnnie, can I ask a favour?”
“Of course, darling. As long as you do that manicure, I will drive you over to the police station, and we’ll call it your late lunch break. Once you have established that Inspector Hammond is up to date with the case, including the information about his dubious colleague Appleton, I’m sure he will send someone over to Landsdown Road. If not, darling, we’ll just have to go ourselves.” He grins at me. “Ruby Baker’s Investigation Bureau to the rescue, but only after we have allowed the police the chance to do the right thing. Much as it almost kills me to say that, they will have to get someone out to Alice’s Farm and there will be policemen on the Downs. Keep calm if you can.”
“I could kiss you, Johnnie!” I say, and he recoils in horror, picking up the tea tray.
“No need to go that far. Now get going, Miss Baker, we’ve got work to do.”
I snap out of my trance and hastily pick out the box of nail colours from the cupboard. Miss Kent chooses dark red, and I apply it with care. Her nails are long and beautifully kept. My own are stubby, short and purple at the moment.
I finish the manicure and sweep piles of hair and dust into neat heaps, actually shaking with anticipation and fear. The phone rings constantly with clients booking in, and Johnnie’s brother, once, who gets a curt dismissal. Johnnie is the black sheep of the family, and he hates his brother, who works in banking. Another time I would have wondered why he called, but now I’m fixated on the girls. Has he hurt them? What if they aren’t at Landsdown Road? Maybe he’s taken them up to London . . .
Mary finishes shampooing her client and we exchange in whispers. “Where would he have taken her? If she and Lily were wandering around on the Downs, lost, either the police or someone would have found her by now.”
“I know. Can you trim Mrs Callahan’s fringe while I give Kenny a ring? Just to check he’s not busy if I don’t get any joy at the police station.”
“Yes, of course. Oh hell, it’s so frustrating that we had them safe . . .”
“I know,” I say grimly. As I pick up the telephone, Johnnie calls out to say he’ll be ready in five minutes.
“Hello, news desk?” James answers the telephone.
“James, I’ve got a few problems, and I might need you and Kenny for an hour or so this afternoon. Are you going to be able to get out?”
“How intriguing, Rubes, and assuming that your problems include two missing girls, a bent copper, and a certain old perv in Landsdown Road, of course we are both free. All you have to do is say the word. Just one thing, are the police not dealing with this?”
Conscious of clients listening to my call, despite the usual buzz of chatter, and noise of the dryers, I choose my words carefully. “Not with any urgency, as far as I can see. Johnnie and I are going down now to see Inspector Hammond.”
“Johnnie is going to the police station?” James is surprised.
“He’s giving me a lift,” I tell him. “As soon as I know what’s happening I’ll call you back.”
“I’ll be here, and Ken will be back in half an hour.”
So that’s it. Everything is ready. I just hope Inspector Hammond is back and we don’t have to do this ourselves.
Johnnie’s car is the opposite of Kenny’s, a smart green Ril
ey with leather seats, and he is silent as we drive the short way to the police station. Pulling up neatly outside he smiles at me. “Off you go, and I’ll wait here. If we need the troops we can squash everyone in here and go straight to Landsdown Road.”
“Thanks, Johnnie.”
I run up the stone steps into the slightly imposing building — and straight into the arms of DS Appleton.
The desk sergeant sniggers as Appleton steadies me. He carries on holding my arms lightly. “Miss Baker, what a surprise! What can I do to help?” His ruddy face is still close to mine, and there is definitely a spark of amusement in his blue eyes.
“Actually, I was looking for Inspector Hammond.”
“I’m afraid he isn’t here. He’s very busy on another case.”
“How about WPC Stanton?”
“Hmmm . . .” He turns to the desk sergeant, who is enjoying the drama. “I don’t think I’ve seen her either, have you, Sergeant Crossly?”
“Not for a while. Probably busy doing something very important like typing a report, or answering the telephone,” he says sarcastically.
“That’s right,” Appleton nods. “Women’s work. A bit like your job, Miss Baker.”
He’s still holding me lightly, and I shrug my arms away furiously. Clearly he hasn’t forgotten the kick in the privates. I only wish I could repeat it.
“Would you like to leave a message for the inspector?” Appleton asks, still smiling. A big, handsome cat, playing with its prey and relishing every second. “Or if you prefer we could go somewhere more private and discuss it?”
“No thanks. I’m sure he already knows there are two girls missing.”
“I’m sure he does,” Appleton beams at me. “In fact I started working on the case as soon as I got in this morning. I’m so grateful to the inspector for bringing me back to Brighton for this one.”
I turn to go, pausing as the door opens, my heart sinking as DS Little stumps through it, face puce from exertion, sweat trickling down his forehead.
