The Dudleys of Budleigh

by P A Nash

  “You’re a regular hive of knowledge.”

  “Yes, and I’m not even using my phone.”

  “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

  “Certainly not!”

  They wandered along the promenade. The beach huts had been put away for the winter although the cafe was still open.

  Frank eyes twinkled as he took out his phone. “I, for my part, did find one excerpt from an article in the May 1937 Express and Echo that made me laugh.”

  “Go on, then. Read it!”

  “The anonymous author wrote ‘In these days when noise has all but swept the entire land like a tidal wave, such places as Budleigh Salterton are like the green oases which dot the desert. Here the tired traveller may rest awhile in the sure knowledge that body and mind will be refreshed.’”

  Ella laughed loudly.

  “Well, the recent events have disproved that article straightaway!” roared Frank.

  “I think we can say that unfortunately, times have changed!”

  A passing pedestrian gave them a strange disbelieving look. Frank and Ella were struck by a wave of embarrassment and hurried on silently towards the Lime Kiln car—park.

  Frank knew the history of this name. “There’s an old lime kiln at the car park entrance.”

  Reaching the car park the lime kiln stood in the middle of the road playing a new role as a traffic island. A blue plaque described its original usage.

  They continued on the promenade as it made a direct path towards the mouth of the River Otter. Ella quietly took out a piece of paper from her pocket without Frank observing her.

  “The beach is composed of cobble sand pebbles known as the Bunter Pebble Beds.”

  “They weren’t named after Billy Bunter?”

  “No!”

  “Or Lord Peter Wimsey’s Bunter?”

  “No! As you probably already know, they were named after the German Buntsandstein.”

  “Bunt — Sand — Stein?”

  “Yes, meaning variegated or colourful. You see, I can show off too!”

  “A giant river that geologists have named Budleighensis used to flow across this landscape about 240 million years ago. “

  “Budleigh — en —sis?”

  “Good pronunciation!”

  “A bit before our time.”

  Ella surreptitiously placed the scrap of paper back in her pocket.

  “The pebbles and sand were deposited all around this area. They dried out and were then compressed into those red cliffs.”

  “Those trees look like they’ve been there forever.”

  “They’re Scots pines and they’re not that old! Less than a century, some say.”

  Frank thought it was time to join in with the information sharing.

  “Did you know that a local painter and decorator was fined by East Devon District Council for taking away a bucket full of pebbles from the beach?”

  “Why?”

  “He broke a local bye—law from the 1949 Coastal Protection Act.”

  “I seem to remember reading about that. Didn’t the mayor blame TV gardening programmes for suggesting using rocks in water features.”

  Frank and Ella enjoyed the bantering exchange of trivial information. It always enhanced their walks and made the surroundings come alive!

  They returned to the car park and made their way inland and across it to continue on the Coast Path. The lowest bridge to cross the River Otter was a little way upstream. On their right were the salt marshes. They stopped at a bird hide and using the helpful information on display managed to spot a little egret, a small white heron.

  They soon reached the bridge and stood on it for a while, enjoying the quiet solitude all around them. In front of them, the river rolled on to the river mouth. Behind them lay a walk they had enjoyed many times before. Up to Otterton and on to Colaton Raleigh.

  “Times getting on,” said Frank. “Let’s cut off part of the walk to the aqueduct and head along the road.”

  They headed westwards along South Farm Road. Before they reached the corner that led up to the main road, they turned sea—wards and back to the car—park.

  “Just a short walk today,” said Ella.

  “But enough to work up an appetite.”

  They strolled back along the promenade into Budleigh Salterton and found what was fast becoming one of their favourite eateries near the garage. An hour and an half drifted by in a haze of food, drink and pleasant conversation.

  “Time for the will!” Ella paid the bill and they sauntered hand in hand up the High Street to the solicitor’s office.

  They arrived before any of the others and helped Mrs Aylesbeare with the chairs. They set out the drinks and cakes on a mahogany table and then sat and watched the old grandfather clock that stood proudly in the corner, as its hands moved slowly towards three o’clock.

  One by one the tramping of feet on the wooden stairs announced the arrival of the invitees. Mrs Aylesbeare stood by the door and welcomed each arrival. Ella offered them tea or coffee and Frank passed around a well—stocked plate of biscuits and cupcakes.

  PC Hydon and WPC Knowle arrived last of all. They apologised for their lateness and promised to sit quietly in the corner unless called upon.

  Mrs Aylesbeare went and sat herself comfortably in Anthony Buckerell’s old leather chair behind his old leather—covered mahogany desk. She had a clutch of papers in front of her and a smart embossed file in her hands.

  “Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for attending. I won’t delay any further, other than asking you to refrain from asking questions or making comments until I have finished reading the will. Is that acceptable to us all?”

  Everyone nodded their heads in agreement.

  “Excellent. If we’re sitting comfortably, then I’ll begin.”

  ***

  She opened the embossed file and took out a sheet of paper.

  “I, Anthony Algernon Buckerell, of The Haven, Budleigh Salterton, revoke all former testamentary dispositions made by me and declare this to be my last will.

  I appoint Alice Marigold Aylesbeare, my loyal and long—suffering office secretary, to be the sole executor of this will. Should she be unable to fulfil this function then I appoint Daniel Aldous Huxley Dudley Moore to be my sole executor.

  I make provision the following legacies to be left to the following specific beneficiaries.

  Firstly, the sum of Five Thousand Pounds to Alice Marigold Aylesbeare my loyal and long—suffering office secretary.

  Secondly, I ask for my executor to buy one National Lottery ticket for every person in the parish of Budleigh Salterton whose name appears on the Electoral Roll.

  Then special gifts to the following beneficiaries.

  The sum of ten thousand, one hundred and fifty—two pounds to Dudley Arnold Syon Gosford—Feniton in the calculation of payments made.

  The sum of twelve thousand, four hundred pounds to Dudley Steven Weston in the calculation of payments made.

  The sum of eight thousand pounds to Dudley Musbury in the calculation of fees claimed.

  The sum of twenty—four thousand, nine hundred and ninety—nine pounds to Dudley William Widworthy in respect of the purchase of stock made by me during these last years. The only proviso to this legacy is that the money must be invested in an income draw—down account. The beneficiary will forfeit all of the money if the money is used in any way in investing in any business.

  The residuary estate to the maximum amount of five thousand pounds to Daniel Aldous Huxley Dudley Moore. The only proviso to this legacy is that he immediately leaves the Budleigh Players and takes no acting part in any production of said company for the next ten years.

  After all these bequests and conditions are met, then the final residuary estate will be placed in the Buckerell Trust.

  The Buckerell Trust will be set up to ensure that this office and its contents will be used for the sole profession of a town solicitor. The person appointed must remain in the p
ost for a minimum of ten years. The post of office secretary will be open to the employment of Alice Marigold Aylesbeare for as long as she so wishes.

  In Witness whereof I have here unto set my hand this thirteenth day of September 2015.

  Signed by the above—named testator Anthony Algernon Buckerell as his last will in the presence of us both present at the same time who at his request and in his presence and in the presence of each other have signed our names below as witnesses. Elspeth Trill and Arthur Hogchester.”

  ***

  The room was silent. Mrs Aylesbeare returned the sheet of paper into the embossed file and turned to WPC Knowle.

  “That’s it. Mr Buckerell left me five thousand pounds in the will. Am I allowed to benefit from the will if I’m an executor?”

  “I’m sure you must be.”

  Frank chipped in from the back of the room. “Well, there was one very strange bequest. He asked you to buy a lottery ticket for everyone on the electoral roll in Budleigh Salterton!”

  WPC Knowle laughed: “How extraordinary! I’ve never heard of that before.”

  “No, I hadn’t either. He also asked me in his will to find someone to take over the solicitors. He would give the whole practice to them if they promised to stay in Budleigh Salterton for ten years. Oh, and they had to employ me as well!”

  “That was generous.” Dudley Weston had finally found his voice.

  Ella disagreed. “Not so much generous, as essential. No—one could take over this office and not rely upon Alice’s expertise.”

  Mrs Aylesbeare blushed. She did not intend to become the centre of attention. “Any other comments or questions?”

  Professor Gosford—Feniton smiled. “Yes, this is all most unlike him. He wasn’t the philanthropic sort. As you can see, he didn’t spend that much on decoration or modern equipment. If it was good enough for Dickens, it was good enough for him!”

  Ella looked around her and spoke to Alice. “You could change that. Update the place. It would make it more appealing to his successor.”

  “Yes, maybe. There were some strange bequests in the will.”

  “I’m surprised he didn’t buy everyone a cup of coffee as well?” said Dudley Weston.

  WPC Knowle stood up and moved into the middle of the room. “I was surprised to see such varying amounts given to each of you. The wording is a little unusual as well. Is there a reason for this?”

  Dudley Musbury who had been silently sitting low in his chair raised his hand. “If I may hazard a guess?”

  “Go on, Mr Musbury.”

  “In my case, this sum of money is a surprisingly generous calculation of the money that Mr Buckerell took off me as his fee.”

  The other Dudleys nodded.

  “Blackmail money, more like, rather than a fee,” grunted Dudley Weston.

  “He’s paid us back the money he stole off us all these years.”

  “Well, I must be off,” said Doctor Moore, getting quickly to his feet. “I have some house calls to make. Mrs Aylesbeare, please accept this verbal reply to my legacy. I shall not be taking one penny of that man’s money. You may use my share however you wish! I’ll put my reply in writing when I have time.”

  He gathered his coat and doctor’s bag and made his way dramatically out of the room. In the silence, everyone could hear his footsteps rapidly descending the stairs to the street.

  ***

  “Why didn’t you go to the police if you were being blackmailed?” asked PC Hydon.

  “I would have lost all my insurance money,” griped Dudley Musbury. “In fact, with you two being here, I still may lose it.”

  “I’m afraid, Mr Musbury,” said PC Hydon, “we may need to reopen your case.”

  “Oh, great!” Dudley slumped even lower in his chair.

  “We’re all in trouble, it seems,” added Dudley Gosford. “I always had my suspicions about his hold over me, but I couldn’t afford to call his bluff. Now, it looks as if I have no alternative.”

  “Well, I’m in the clear. I paid him stupid sums of money so I could keep tabs on a woman. Not my wife, you understand. But now, I’m prepared to stand up and face any consequences.”

  “This is all well and good,” said WPC Knowle, “but it gets us no nearer to solving Mr Buckerell’s death.”

  “Oh, I disagree,” said Frank. “I think we’re almost there.”

  Everyone turned to look at him. Frank moved into the centre of the room and peered around him. “What are you all doing next Monday?”

  Dudley Gosford—Feniton stood up. His tall frame towered over Frank. “It’s the dress rehearsal in the afternoon. Silly time to have it, I know. But we have to accommodate our star, the good doctor.”

  “Yes,” said Dudley Weston. “We’ll all be there.”

  “Good. I call a meeting after the dress rehearsal in the public hall at seven–thirty next Monday evening.”

  “Alice, Mrs Aylesbeare, will you be able to attend?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

  PC Hydon stood up. He was even taller than Dudley Gosford—Feniton. He gleefully rubbed his hands together.

  “Eee, it’s one of his Pierrots again,” cried PC Hydon. “ If you’re the guilty one, you gotta be there. If ‘ee don’t attend, you’ll be signalling your guilt to the rest of us. The innocent among you are perfectly safe!”

  “Thank you, PC Hydon. No—one has to attend against their will. However, we look forward to your presence next Monday evening.”

  “Why?” asked Dudley Musbury.

  “So,” exclaimed Frank, “we can reveal Anthony Buckerell’s murderer.”

  Chapter 16 – Deja vu Once Again

  Next morning Frank and Elsie retrieved the whiteboard from the garage. Frank drew out the boxes and labelled them Suspect, Motive, Alibi, and Opportunity.

  Ella recalled their previous attempts at drawing some semblance of logic out of the chaos. “First, let’s list the suspects.”

  “The four Dudleys.”

  Frank wrote Dudley Gosford—Feniton, Dudley Weston, Dudley Musbury and Dudley Widworthy in the first four boxes on the left—hand side of the whiteboard.

  In the fifth box, he wrote Alice Aylesbeare. Ella gasped. “You don’t really think…‌”

  “Until we can eliminate her, we must include her in our thinking. Anybody else?”

  “Mrs Weston?” queried Ella.

  “We can include her but I can’t see any connection between her and all of our investigations so far.”

  “Still, write her down. Just for completeness!”

  Frank added her name in the sixth box.

  “Motive,” said Frank.

  “Well, the four Dudleys were being blackmailed. Although we’ve eliminated her because of her name, Alice may have seen the will before she said she did.”

  “Yes, she may have seen her inheritance and her job for life,” added Frank, “She could have passed on the information to one of the four Dudleys.”

  “And Mrs Weston?” asked Ella.

  “Well, she certainly loves her husband even if he doesn’t love her.”

  “Unrequited love? Wouldn’t she kill her husband in that situation? Sort of — if I can’t have him, then no—one else will?”

  “Good point!”

  Ella stared at the whiteboard before clapping her hands in frustration. “No, no, wait a minute. We’re missing something again!” said Ella.

  “What?”

  “Well, remember that phone call you received when we got back from our walk with Bella and George?”

  “Yes, you’re absolutely correct. Dudley’s out to get me!”

  “I’m happy to eliminate both Alice and Mrs Weston!”

  “Back to four Dudleys.” Frank rubbed out the names of the two women.

  “Well, in that case, do we need to write down Doctor Daniel Moore?”

  “Yes!”

  “But why?”

  “Didn’t you notice or was it just me? When Alice read out the wi
ll, Doctor Daniel Moore’s middle names included Dudley. Sometimes people are called more often by their middle names than their first name.”

  “Another excellent point. How did I miss that?”

  Frank tried to write Dr Daniel Aldous Huxley Dudley Moore in the fifth box. “It’s not going to fit!”

  “Just call him Doctor Moore. For now!”

  Frank did and stood back to look at the whiteboard. On to the next column?”

  “No, we need to put in a motive for Doctor Moore?” Ella reminded him.

  “Well, he wasn’t being blackmailed.”

  “What about his three loves? The job, his plants and his drama. What about the licensing committee?”

  “Could one of those be a reason to murder Anthony Buckerell? Hmm, maybe.”

  ***

  “The next column says Alibi.”

  “I noted down that every one of the Dudleys said that they had seen Anthony Buckerell in the days before he died.”

  Yes, so none of them has an alibi. They could have injected him with the poison without him even realising it. Then, with a little bit of calculation, send the note to him!”

  “You went around to Anthony’s office the day before he died. That was a Tuesday. That means that the poison was administered the day before that. Monday. In the evening at about eight o’clock.”

  “So let’s go back through our notes and see where our suspects were.”

  “Well, according to Daniel Moore, the four Dudleys all went to a meeting with Anthony Buckerell about the licensing.”

  “Strange that no one’s mentioned a meeting with him before.”

  “If that was two days before the murder, then any one of them could have done it.”

  “We didn’t ask the right questions, did we?”

  “Where were you on Monday night?”

  “And if none of the four Dudleys can provide us with an alibi then we have to assume they all had the opportunity.”

  “That phone caller said we weren’t asking the right questions and we were stupid. They were right.”

  “No. We may not have been asking the right questions but all the evidence is right in front of us. We’re not stupid. They were wrong and we can prove it.”