The constable put his pad away and told Tam to wait and someone would see him.
Tam sat down on the hard wooden bench and hoped he wouldn’t have long to wait. He had left Rover outside, tied to the railings.
Tam felt apprehensive in the police surroundings but when the police officer arrived he looked friendly.
‘I’m Detective Sergeant Johns, Mr Burns. Would you like to come this way.’
Tam followed him down a long corridor and was finally shown into a small office with only enough room for a desk, a couple of chairs and a filing cabinet. A small window overlooked what seemed to be a brick wall.
‘Now, Mr Burns, you were saying you knew the deceased man, Harry Hawkins.’
‘Yes I did … briefly. As I told the officer on the desk we met the night before he was due to sail. We had drinks in the City Centre Bar.’
Tam described his bewilderment the following morning when Harry had seemingly disappeared.
‘Well, it is definitely Mr Hawkins. He still had his wallet in his pocket and he’s been identified by the captain of The Mary Anne. It’s a ship that docks regularly in Dundee and, as luck would have it, it’s back with another cargo.’
Tam was puzzled. ‘But Harry said he had never been in Dundee before. How can that be when it’s a regular port of call for the boat?’
Sergeant Johns leaned back on his chair. ‘No you’re right. The captain said Mr Hawkins signed on before the last trip. He had been on a freight ship from Hull to Rotterdam but apparently changed ships because the Hull boat was being laid up for a few weeks for repairs.’
Tam felt sad. Harry’s first trip to Dundee had turned out to be his final journey.
‘How much did he have to drink in the bar?’
‘He wasn’t drunk if that’s what you’re thinking,’ said Tam, annoyed that this might be classed as the cause of death. ‘We had two rums each and I think he had one drink before that.’
‘The post mortem shows quite a bit of alcohol in his stomach. At least six measures … maybe eight.’
‘Well yes, we had double measures but that still doesn’t account for his death. How did he die?’
‘We think he got his foot entangled in a coil of rope that was lying on the wharf and hit his head when he fell into the water. He must have been unconscious because he drowned. The head wound must have knocked him out, but it wasn’t the cause of death.’
Tam couldn’t accept this. ‘But Harry had been at sea since he was sixteen. He would never have tripped over a coil of rope. Never in a hundred years. He must have walked over hundreds of wharves.’
‘Maybe,’ said the sergeant. ‘He was probably very careful when he was sober, but after quite a few drinks his judgement would have been impaired.’
Tam shook his head in disbelief. ‘I don’t believe it.’
The man stood up. ‘Well, it’s being recorded as an accidental death. Thank you for coming in and filling us in with his last moments, Mr Burns.’
He walked down the corridor with Tam and stood at the front door.
As Tam untied Rover, DS Johns rubbed his chin. He had a funny feeling about this case but, without a witness to the event, it would remain an accidental death.
Tam walked away with Rover. He couldn’t believe Harry had tripped over a bit of rope. Not an old seadog like him.
When he reached his house he was annoyed at forgetting to ask when the funeral was and if it would be in Dundee. He would maybe go back to the police station or it might be in the death column of the paper. He would have to look out for it. Harry would have precious few mourners and Tam was determined to be one. It’s the least I can do, he thought. Old sailors had to stick together.
Tam tried to recall all the conversation on that night but although he racked his brains, he couldn’t think of anything else. He had told the police all he knew but they were sure it was an accident.
9
On Thursday afternoon, Molly was finishing a pile of invoices when Lena arrived back from the shop. The weather had turned warm and thundery and Molly was looking forward to setting off for home and having a long cool bath.
‘Kenneth has had to go and see to some containers coming in. I’ve had to look after the shop all day.’ She sounded annoyed.
‘Is there anything else you would like me to do after these invoices?’
Lena gave this a bit of thought. ‘I think Christie and Mike might want some help in the warehouse. Could you make a list of all the containers?’
Molly took her pad out to the warehouse. Christie was working at a small desk but there was no sign of Mike, much to her relief. She hardly knew the man but he made her feel uncomfortable.
Christie had all the information to hand and Molly copied it down.
He said. ‘I’m going to make some coffee. Would you like a cup?’
Molly wasn’t fussy about coffee. She much preferred tea but she nodded.
‘What brought you to Dundee?’ she asked him.
He fiddled with his teaspoon. ‘I arrived last year on a working holiday. I came to Dundee on a visit and met Kenneth. I told him I worked in the antique trade back in Canada and he asked me to come and work for him. So here I am. What about you?’
Molly told him about her parents going to Australia and how she had lived there for some time. She mentioned Nell and the new baby and how she had started the agency.
‘With lots of hope and little money,’ she laughed.
She picked up her pad. ‘Well I’d better be getting back. Thanks for the coffee.’
She reached the door when a dark shadow appeared. For a moment she thought it was Mike but it was Joe. He was sweating and his face was red and shiny. Behind him was Kenneth who looked as cool and as well groomed as usual.
Kenneth was speaking to Joe. ‘You should have left the boxes until tomorrow. Christie and Mike would have helped you. You don’t want to end up with a heart attack.’
Joe scowled and muttered something, which Molly didn’t catch. Kenneth must have heard, however, because he put a hand on Joe’s shoulder before walking away.
Later, Molly left the shed and walked through the garden towards the house. The lawn was well kept and she thought she would have a quick look at the cliffs. When she reached the end of the grass she was surprised to see there was no fence and the ground fell away to a small beach which lay about twenty feet below. It was hardly a cliff but it was still a nasty drop.
There was a jetty on the shingle beach with a smart looking cabin cruiser berthed alongside. She was peering over when she heard the voices but before she could draw back, Joe and Mike appeared. They seemed to be arguing.
Suddenly, as if they sensed they were being overheard, they looked up and saw her. Molly almost fell off the edge in surprise, so intense was their gaze.
Molly was mortified. Did they think she was eavesdropping? She turned to go to the house and almost fell over Christie.
She had an irrational stab of fear at the closeness of the Canadian and although she wouldn’t admit it, she felt shaken by the malicious looks from Joe and Mike.
‘I’m just enjoying the view,’ she said, trying to inject a nonchalant and carefree lightness in her voice as she quickly made her way back to the office.
Sitting at the desk, she was dismayed to see her hands were still shaking.
‘Stop it,’ she told herself. Just because the men obviously didn’t like her didn’t mean there was anything wrong. That was the trouble with working in a home environment. You picked up lots of domestic detritus. Maybe Joe had fallen out with his wife and was in a bad mood. As for Mike and Christie, well she hardly knew them. Perhaps they were always like that.
10
Mary was waiting impatiently for her dinner break. She had her wages and Mum had said she could treat herself to something to wear as a reward for passing her exams. She would soon be getting her Leaving Certificate at the school and, after that, she would be a fully-fledged working girl.
She looked over
at Molly who was working out all the invoices for jobs done. It had been a busy Saturday morning and the agency was picking up a lot of new business. At this rate, perhaps Molly would get another receptionist and she could become an agency worker.
She gazed at her wristlet watch, which had been a birthday present from her parents. It was twelve o’clock.
As if noticing the movement, Molly looked up from the pile of paperwork. ‘If you want to have your break now, Mary, I’ll hold on here.’
Mary gathered up her jacket and handbag and hurried down the Wellgate. She had seen the dress she wanted in Levinson’s shop window so she quickly made her way to the Overgate.
The assistant was very helpful and Mary stood in the fitting room, admiring her reflection in the mirror. The dress was white with blue spots and it had a red belt, which made her waist look tiny. And the best part was it had been reduced in the sale from thirty to twenty-one shillings.
Mary was almost purring when she left the shop. She was planning to wear the dress tonight when she went out dancing with her best friend, Rita. There was just the one small worry, which had been niggling her since Wednesday when she last saw Rita.
Both girls normally went to Kidd’s Rooms every Saturday night but Rita had suggested going to the Palais in Tay Street.
‘It’ll be a change, Mary,’ she had said. ‘After all, you’re leaving school in a week’s time so it’s time you mixed with the grown-up dancers, not the kids you normally see.’
Mary was uncertain but had agreed to go. The only thing was she hadn’t told her Mum the change of plan. Then she thought of the new dress and made up her mind. She was going to enjoy her evening at the dancing.
When she got back to the office, Edna was sitting chatting to Molly. The injury had turned into a black eye and there was blue and yellow bruising halfway down her cheek which the pancake foundation had failed to cover up.
Mary could see that Molly looked shocked.
Edna was explaining the accident and she seemed to be embarrassed by it. ‘It was so stupid. Walking into a lamp post,’ she said. ‘I was going to stay off work but Mr Knox was very kind and said he didn’t mind having me come in every day.’ She sounded hesitant and unsure of herself. ‘But if you would rather I didn’t work until the bruising has gone, I quite understand.’
‘Well, as long as you feel all right, Edna’, said Molly. ‘How long do you think this job will last? Did he give you any idea?’
Mary was surprised when Edna’s neck went bright red. No doubt her face would have gone the same deep red if she hadn’t been wearing so much make-up, she thought.
‘He wants me for another two weeks, at least if that’s all right with you, Molly? He’s writing an engineering book and it’s all very technical.’
Molly was delighted. ‘We’ve got some new jobs in this morning but I’ll get my friends to fill in and I can always do a Friday as my clients don’t need me then.’
Edna left and Mary settled back in her chair, ready for the afternoon’s work.
Molly saw the bag that Mary had stuffed into the cupboard behind the desk.
‘Have you been treating yourself to something nice to wear, Mary?’
‘Mum said I could buy myself something to wear and I’m going dancing tonight with my pal.’
Molly smiled. How great it was to be young and fancy-free.
It was five thirty and the man was getting tired hanging around the street. As far as he knew, the agency closed at five thirty but there was no sign of anyone leaving. He looked at his watch and lit another cigarette. This was definitely where she worked but there had been no sight of her. He had been standing here since three o’clock but now he decided to call it a day and walked away.
Mike was out on the town. He loved getting into Dundee and parading his good looks around the girls. He was a bit worried about this Molly McQueen and hoped she wasn’t going to poke her nose into anyone’s business. Lamont Antiques had just been the four of them until Christie arrived but he didn’t like this woman. Neither did Joe. In fact he had said in confidence to him that he was suspicious of her motive in being in the house. ‘I’d love to know a bit more about her,’ Joe had said to him. The only people pleased by her were Kenneth and Lena who seemed to find her good at her job.
Because he was curious about the newcomer he decided to wander up the Wellgate and see this agency for himself. It was a bit of a disappointment when he saw it. The tiny shop with a house above it looked quite neglected in spite of the fresh coat of paint.
He would have loved to get some information on the owner but he knew this wasn’t possible. He knew it was no business of his but he always liked to find out things about people and because Joe was suspicious of her, well he just wanted to know something about her. Then, if Joe ever mentioned again that he didn’t trust her working with them, he could maybe give him a few bits of information. Also, this skulking about gave him pleasure and he had always liked to spy on people. Especially women and girls.
Suddenly the door opened and the young receptionist came out onto the pavement. According to his information her name was Mary. She stood on the pavement, looking up and down, a look of uncertainty on her face. He saw another young girl hurry down the street to meet up with Mary.
They started to walk up the Wellgate towards the tram stop on Victoria Road. He was torn between following them and keeping the shop under observation. He glanced across the road and saw that Molly was still working, busy typing at the desk.
He decided to follow the two young girls. Unaware that they were under scrutiny, he overheard their chatter.
‘I don’t want to go to Kidd’s Rooms, Mary,’ said the friend.
Mary looked unhappy. ‘I don’t think my Mum will want me to go to the Palais. Is it not for older people, Rita?’
‘Well I think Kidd’s Rooms just caters for kids. It’s well named and if you don’t want to go, I can always go on my own.’
Mary gave this some thought. ‘All right. Come round to the house at seven o’clock and we’ll go to the Palais. But remember, if I don’t like it, I’m going back to Kidd’s Rooms next week.’
The tramcar hovered into sight and the two girls got on board.
So that was the destination for the evening he thought, making his way past the agency. It was locked up and the blind had been pulled down at the window.
He glanced down the street but there was no sign of Molly. She must have shut up shop the minute he set off after the girls.
The whole evening stretched out in front of him. He debated about going to the pictures or the dancing. He had liked the look of the two girls so he decided on the dancing. He looked at his watch again. It was almost six o’clock. He was starting to feel hungry so he set off along the High Street towards the Palais. There was a wonderful aroma coming from the Deep Sea fish and chip shop so he decided to go and have something to eat before going to the dancing.
At seven o’clock he made his way to Tay Street, making for the Ascot Bar on the corner of the street where he decided to go for a couple of drinks. The bar was busy but he was served almost immediately and he carried his glass of whisky over to a corner of the bar counter.
At half past seven, after another two drinks, he went down the street towards the Palais.
The queue, which had formed earlier, had dispersed quickly and he was able to buy his ticket right away.
He scrutinised his reflection in the mirror of the Gents cloakroom. He was pleased with what he saw. A tall, slim man with a well-cut suit, white shirt and somewhat gaudy tie. It was a pity about the tie, he thought, but there was nothing he could do now. He could hardly take it off because he knew the dancehall had a strict dress code policy. He had been here before but not for over a year.
Upstairs, he quickly scanned the crowd. The band was playing a quickstep and the floor was crowded with dancers.
He spotted Mary and Rita. They were sitting on a settee, looking wistfully at the floor. Mary was wearing a white f
rock with blue spots. Very demure. Rita, however, had on a low-necked sweater and black skirt.
He decided to concentrate on Rita. Sauntering over, he asked her to dance. She was so eager she almost fell over her feet and they both joined the throng on the floor.
‘Do you come here a lot?’ he asked.
Rita tried to appear more sophisticated.
‘Oh I come here every week,’ she said. ‘Andy Lothian’s band is great.’
‘Does your friend come with you every week or do you come on your own?’
‘No, I usually come on my own, but Mary wanted to come tonight so here we are.’
Little liar, he thought.
Just then the dance ended. He walked back with her to the settee. Mary was looking really miserable. ‘I wondered if you would like a soft drink at the Soda Fountain?’
Rita was immediately on her feet again but Mary didn’t get up.
‘You must come as well,’ he said. ‘You must join us.’
Rita was shaking her head at Mary behind his back and because of this, Mary decided to go along.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
At the Soda Fountain, he bought three soft drinks and offered them a cigarette. Rita took one and proceeded to blow smoke in Mary’s face.
‘Where do you both work?’ he asked.
Rita answered for them both. ‘I’ve got a job in an office and Mary is in an agency.’
He looked at Mary. ‘That must be very interesting. Do you get clients from different places?’
Mary nodded.
Rita snorted. ‘Don’t be all secretive Mary.’ She turned to the man. ‘It’s called McQueen’s Agency and the owner is Molly McQueen. Mary works with a woman called Edna and some of Molly’s friends.’
‘Molly McQueen,’ he stopped as if giving this some thought. ‘I used to know a Molly McQueen. I wonder if it’s the same woman.’
Mary shrugged and Rita didn’t know so she remained silent.
‘Oh well maybe it’s not.’ He looked towards the dance floor. ‘Perhaps we’d better get back to dancing.’ He turned to Mary. ‘Can I have the next dance?’
McQueen's Agency Page 5
