The Case of the Missing Morris Dancer

by Cathy Ace

  ‘Good point, though I can’t imagine why Tudor didn’t tell you about knowing the Roberts man earlier in the day. You did say you’d asked him, didn’t you?’ said Carol.

  ‘I dinnae think he was tryin’ to hold anything back. I believe I asked him about knowing the Morrises, and Tudor tends to take things quite literally.’

  Carol nodded her agreement. ‘I’m starting to feel there might be enough circumstantial evidence for us to go to the police again and present them with our findings. What do you think? Do you think they might take Aubrey Morris’s disappearance more seriously if we could point them toward a possible elopement, the Morris farm and the violent Mr Roberts?’

  ‘I think we need a team chat about it. Unless something comes up that prevents us from doing it, I’d like all four of us to have a face-to-face meeting early this afternoon. At the office if we can manage it, you could Skype in from your home. I’d like us to be able to speak to the police before the end of the day. What do you think?’

  The two women had wandered down a side path rather than heading into the church, to allow them to carry on talking. Having now reached the end of their chat, Carol once again cast her eyes across the verdant grass, the grey, brown and glinting white marble headstones of the graveyard, and she pointed to two graves side by side. ‘Two Morrises. I wonder which ones they are.’

  Crossing the wet grass she bent down to read the inscriptions. ‘This one goes back to 1793. Look at this – three children, all less than a year old, a mother, father and a grown daughter. How sad.’

  ‘It comes to us all,’ observed Mavis.

  ‘This one’s much more modern,’ said Carol, her voice muffled by her scarf. ‘I think this must be Aubrey Morris’s grandparents. The dates look to be about right.’ Her head popped up and she looked around. ‘There’s another stone that’s even fresher, and that’s a Morris too.’ She strode out and stooped to read. ‘Yes, this is Aubrey’s mum and dad. See? “Beloved wife and mother”. Gosh, none of them made old bones, did they?’

  ‘Those were the times,’ said Mavis sadly.

  Carol stood upright. ‘Not really. Yes, I get it that the ones back in the 1700s might not live into old age, but neither did Aubrey’s parents or grandparents. Look at these other people, at much the same time.’ Carol’s ability with numbers always astonished Mavis. Making rapid calculations, Carol said, ‘The average age of a man buried here is about seventy-odd, and the women a little older. But the last two generations of the Morris family? In their forties or fifties. Very sad. Maybe they just aren’t a strong family.’

  ‘It can happen,’ said Mavis. Carol noticed she was looking particularly thoughtful when she added, ‘Annie said something interesting last night on the phone. She said her dad would do anything to keep her from coming to harm. Now Ann Roberts and Aubrey Morris aren’t related, but what if her father thought her life might be endangered simply by consorting with, or eventually marrying, Aubrey?’

  ‘You mean as if Aubrey has some sort of disease he could pass to her, that’s led to early deaths in his part of the Morris family?’

  Mavis shook her head. ‘Aye, that’s what I mean, but it makes no sense.’ Carol saw Mavis’s expression change as she spotted someone scurrying along the path to the church.

  ‘There’s our boss for the day, Marjorie Pritchard. We’d best be on our way, or I’ve a feeling we’ll be chided for tardiness.’

  Carol grinned. ‘She’s almost a professional chider, you know?’

  ‘Come away then, let’s be off. Let’s leave the dead and join the living.’

  ‘Good plan. So, what’s in store for us, do you know?’

  ‘No idea. This was the only thing I could offer to help with, so I hope I can do a good job. I dare say I can follow instructions, if they’re given.’ Mavis winked.

  ‘This is Marjorie we’re talking about, there’ll be instruction a-plenty, trust me,’ replied Carol with a grin.

  Upon entering the oak doors to the ancient church it was immediately apparent to Carol that some sort of kerfuffle was taking place at the chancel steps where Sharon from the shop and her father were having a loud discussion with Marjorie. The serried ranks of the Jacobean wooden pews had been polished, the narrow nave was full of women rushing about holding vases of daffodils in bud, and the hangings on the altar and pulpit (the kind gift of the third Duke of Chellingworth in thanks for the safe delivery of his first son) and even the stone font near the door (the kind gift of the third duke on the safe arrival of his second son) had all been changed to white, in readiness for the wedding.

  ‘Once we manage to escape from here I’ll phone everyone to arrange getting together at the office for a meeting this afternoon. How about that?’

  Carol nodded, then they entered the fray, both determined not to be forced to take a side in the battle being fought over the positioning of the daffodils.

  TWENTY-NINE

  It was half past two when three of the four women of the WISE Enquiries Agency found themselves sitting in a circle around the coffee table in their office, with Carol on Skype via a laptop.

  ‘Althea sends her apologies,’ announced Mavis bringing the meeting to order. ‘She agreed to join Stephanie and Sheila Timbers for the final re-fitting of Stephanie’s wedding gown, which was being driven up from Bridgend by the dressmaker. It’s all thanks to Carol’s amazing skills and contacts that the dress has been found and returned. I understand this fitting, and the reattachment of the sleeve, is a process that might take some time, so I suggested we had this meeting without Althea. As our client in this matter she has agreed to abide by our decision, whatever it might be.’

  ‘I think it’s time we get back to the cops,’ said Annie slurping coffee.

  ‘We should discuss our findings first, then reach a team agreement,’ said Mavis very properly.

  ‘Mavis is correct,’ replied Christine. ‘We need to see where we stand, especially if we’re going to ask the police to become involved in the case of a missing person.’

  ‘Given that we only really began to work on the case just before lunchtime on Monday, I think we’ve done quite well,’ added Carol, ‘but Mavis and Christine are right, in order to get the police to recognize that Aubrey Morris and quite possibly Ann Roberts are truly “missing”, we have to get our ducks in a row. Do you want to take it from the top, Mavis?’

  Everyone knew the answer would be yes, so the three women waited as Mavis began by standing and walking about – which they all knew meant she was thinking.

  ‘Are you up to creating a workmanlike document as I speak?’ she asked Carol, who nodded at the laptop screen’s camera, her hands hovering over an invisible keyboard.

  ‘Ready when you are – and I can cut and paste in the more detailed parts of reports we’ve been sending each other to make it look even more impressive, plus the photos we have of the missing man, the van etc. You kick off with the major points, I’ll build an outline then fill it in later. How about that?’ Carol beamed at her colleagues, who all smiled back – glad to see she was back to her usual self, and none the worse for her episode at the Morris farmhouse.

  ‘Very well,’ began Mavis. ‘Aubrey Morris failed to keep an appointment with Tudor Evans on Sunday evening, and we were brought into the case late on Monday morning. We have established the following facts from more than one source in each case: Aubrey Morris is a likeable, well-respected handyman, with a reputation as a quiet, studious, reliable person. Something of a loner, he has taken on the family business and run it well, even growing its reach. Both his parents are dead. He is related to the Morris family at the Morris farm. He lives modestly at the family home, which was given to his grandfather by the Morris family. He seems to have had a very particular friendship over the years with Ann Roberts, the granddaughter of the Morris at the farm. Aubrey and Ann are not related by blood, but we believe there is a definite insistence by Ann’s father that the two of them not be involved, even as friends. We believe Aubrey and Ann plan
ned to leave the village of Anwen-by-Wye after Henry’s wedding. We have evidence of the following: his removal of thousands of pounds from his post office account; his purchase of a travel insurance policy for Europe; his cancellation of various jobs around the village; her making plans to collect her wedding dress for their planned elopement. However, we also believe he would not have let down the Anwen Morris for their very important role in Saturday’s ceremonies. We have worked under the assumption that Aubrey left Anwen-by-Wye some time on Sunday, probably late in the afternoon, in his van, taking with him the Anwen Morris historical artefacts which properly belong to his family, though are used and viewed as “village property”. The fact I believe he did not pack for a trip, as I saw at his home, means his departure must have been unexpected.’

  Mavis paused, then added, ‘Do we believe these assumptions are correct? We have no evidence to confirm Aubrey took his van and the Morris dancing equipment, and both have since turned up – though in two places and on two separate occasions.’

  Annie half-raised her hand. ‘If he didn’t take his van, then how’d he leave at all? No buses that time of night, and no one’s said they gave him a lift.’

  ‘Good point,’ chimed in Christine, ‘though Mavis is correct. We don’t know he drove off in his van. He could have been conked on the head at his house, bundled into it and spirited away.’

  Carol looked into the camera, though her expert fingers kept moving. ‘No sign of a break-in or struggle at the house, no sign of blood or any real disturbance in the van. He must have driven off himself.’

  ‘I’m inclined to agree,’ said Mavis with some finality. ‘But why a week early? We have evidence of a strong bond between him as Caradoc and Ann Roberts as Boudica covering many years and mentions in a letter about her becoming his wife, and there’s the wedding gown. Their shared love of all things Roman suggests maybe a trip to Italy, but we have no evidence to confirm that to be the case. Indeed, we only know of the possible disappearance of Ann Roberts because of an overheard comment made by her mother. The local police have at least told me no one else has been reported as missing from this area. We are working under the assumption that Aubrey and Ann are both missing, and that there is a connection. Again, do we agree this to be the case?’

  Christine, Annie and Carol all nodded.

  Mavis took a deep breath and began another lap of the interior of the barn. ‘We have established that Ann Roberts’s father, Rhys, is a man with a tendency to unpleasantness and even violence, and her mother appears to be cowed by him. Her reaction when I touched her arm when we met gave me cause for concern, that’s for sure. A woman only winces when she’s touched if she’s hurting. Of course, ladies, as professionals we must remember that not everyone who is rude, unpleasant, given to intoxication or even violence lives down to our expectations of them, but, having met him myself, I would like to say there’s no’ much I’d put past Rhys Roberts. He might very well see fit to impose his will upon anyone who chose to challenge it. His build might be slight, but I believe he would be able to call upon a wiry strength, developed over decades as a man used to handling sheep.’

  ‘I trust your instincts, Mave,’ said Annie, raising her coffee mug toward the petite woman, who replied to her colleague’s comment with a withering glance. ‘Sorry, Mavis,’ added Annie, sulking.

  Mavis pressed on. ‘We’ve established Rhys Roberts’s dislike of Aubrey Morris and his daughter being even friends has a long history. It cannot be based upon a concern about their being related, because they are not. Aubrey Morris could not, to be fair, be cast as a dashing young man, but he has a well-earned reputation for steadiness, which I cannot believe would be frowned upon by any father when considering a potential mate for his offspring. So we are stuck, ladies. Why might Rhys Roberts have caused the disappearance of both Aubrey and his daughter? And, if he did, then was it he who dumped the van at the side of the road – and if so, why? And why did he deliver the Anwen Morris implements to Chellingworth Hall, if he did? We only have one sighting of a vehicle somewhat like his to go on for this aspect of the case.’

  ‘There must be something we don’t know about Aubrey,’ said Christine thoughtfully.

  Annie nodded. ‘If a father is dead set against his little girl not being with a boy, it’s ’cause that boy can harm her somehow – other than, you know, by generally breaking her heart and making her life a misery, which they all do anyway. Unless the dad’s got a screw loose and just wants to shut his daughter away from all blokes for her entire life, that is.’

  ‘He might be that sort,’ said Carol. ‘I haven’t met him, but his wife Netta? The one who came to help me when I fell? She sounded really frightened when she said she was worried about what he might do. I don’t think a person would sound like that unless there was some past behavior to go on.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Mavis. ‘But there’s so little here to take to the police. We have a suspicion that Ann Roberts and Aubrey Morris are together. If only the two lads who stole the wedding dresses would talk, they might be able to connect that incident with Rhys Roberts. There’s no word from your contact in Bridgend yet, is there, Carol?’

  Carol shook her head. ‘PC Duffy said she’d phone if they made a link, but I’m not sure we should wait on that, though it would help.’

  ‘So we think her father might have something to do with our belief they are both missing. The police have been quite clear, when speaking to Althea, that there is nothing they can do about an adult who simply chooses to be somewhere other than where he’s expected to be. If only they would listen, they’d have the authority to at least search the Morris farm for Aubrey. They might not be in the Morris farmhouse, but I imagine they have a good many outbuildings, and any number of places that people, or, heaven forbid, bodies might be secreted.’

  ‘Come on now, Mave – Mavis – if we really had anything to suggest foul play we’d have been off to the cops days ago,’ said Annie.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Christine, ‘that’s a leap. I mean, we can’t even think why he’d have kidnapped them, or whatever, let alone why he might kill Aubrey, or his daughter. But, you know what concerns me most?’

  ‘That it’s been so cold at night?’ replied Carol.

  Christine nodded. ‘I don’t know what the temperatures were like here over the past few days, but it’s been freezing in London. I can’t imagine an outbuilding in the depths of the Welsh countryside would have been a particularly pleasant place to be holed up.’

  A little voice said, ‘If we can’t talk the police into searching the Morris farm buildings, could we do it ourselves?’

  Althea had entered the barn in silence and no one had noticed her hovering at the door.

  Welcoming her friend and encouraging her to take a seat, Mavis answered, ‘No, we cannot, Althea. We have no right to do that. Private property is just that. Indeed, the only reason I felt we were able to enter Aubrey’s home was because you yourself had a key, and owned the land upon which the house stood.’

  ‘We own quite a lot of the Morris farm too,’ said Althea quietly.

  Mavis looked shocked. ‘What do you mean? You haven’t mentioned this before.’

  ‘I only just found out,’ admitted Althea, pulling off her sturdy jacket. ‘After we’d stopped fussing about with Stephanie’s gown – which is lovely by the way – I popped in to see Bob Fernley, our Estate Manager. I thought I’d check about access routes to the New Buttery, to see if I could work out how someone could get there without being seen, and the topic of property lines arose. It seems the Chellingworth Estate bought up a few hundred of the Morris acres around the time old man Morris died. They needed the cash. I suspect it was so they could buy the house where Aubrey and his parents lived. We don’t own the land where the houses are – you know, the part we saw when we were there, Mavis – but we do own a good deal of their pasture. Would that make a difference?’

  Mavis gave the matter some thought. ‘Carol – you’re the bookworm here. What’
s your pseudo-legal opinion?’

  Carol unhunched and stopped typing. ‘I’ll need to check it out, but I believe if the Chellingworth Estate owns the land, then it – by which I suppose I mean you, Althea – would have the right of entry to that land, and everything on it. Of course, the Twysts and the Morrises might have signed a contract forbidding such an act, but, otherwise, I think you could go where you wanted on your land, and do as you pleased. Of course, what you own might be just green fields and hillsides, without so much as a shack upon it. But let me check some satellite shots of the area while you all talk, and I’ll let you know. So, to be clear – the Chellingworth Estate owns the land, and – what? The Morris family rents it from you to use for grazing?’

  ‘Here,’ said Althea, handing Mavis a couple of pieces of paper she’d screwed up in her pocket. She flattened them out as she passed them across. ‘Bob Fernley said this contract would explain it all properly and he drew a sort of outline on an Ordinance Survey map to show me our boundaries.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Mavis took the note and read it, then flattened the map and looked at it thoughtfully. She photographed them both and emailed them to Carol. ‘Carol – would you check the photos I just sent you, please?’

  Carol nodded, and turned her attention to her keyboard.

  ‘Althea, following discussion, we don’t feel confident we have enough to go back to the police to get them to act,’ summarized Mavis. ‘We’ve only been on the case for three days, and we’re happy to continue, but we think we’ve hit a bit of a dead end.’

  ‘That’s not good news,’ said Althea, looking crestfallen. ‘I feel more and more that we need to find Aubrey. And that poor girl, too.’