The Golf, Cheese and Chess Society

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The Golf, Cheese and Chess Society Page 11

by Jason Blacker


  “Yes, of course,” said Brimley. “My father insisted I take my Higher School Certificate. Just in case,” he said.

  In fact, Brimley had studied at Durham University but that wasn’t germane to the conversation or to his cover.

  “Have you ever met the boy?” he asked.

  Herbert shook his head.

  “No, but there’s a photograph of him in her bedroom. A fine looking lad. Probably looks more like his father than this mother. I don’t see her in him.”

  “There’s a little bit of her in him,” said Penny. “Around the eyes.”

  Herbert didn’t say anything. Brimley drank more of his tea.

  “What about Ms. Shelford,” he said. “Anything you can say about her?”

  “What I can say,” said Penny, “is that she was even more secretive than Pelagia. If you can believe that.”

  Brimley nodded.

  “Is there anything you know of her? Family, children, anything like that?”

  “I don’t believe she was married or had children. All I know is that she had family up north because she said that’s where she was going on Saturday. Though that was the first we’d heard about it, wasn’t it?”

  Herbert nodded.

  “That’s right. Didn’t even know she had family until she told us she was going up north to visit them. She kept very much to herself. Didn’t eat with us all that often either.”

  “Not as often as Pelagia did,” said Penny, looking at her husband. Then she looked back at Brimley. “Not to paint a poor picture of her. She’s a friendly woman. Just doesn’t say much.”

  “Did she ever go anywhere else?”

  “She went to London often. Said she liked to do shopping down there. But if she did, she never bought much. Or at least she never came back with big shopping bags.”

  “And what about Pelagia? Did she ever travel?”

  “Not often. She usually stayed around here or went into Milton Keynes. Occasionally she went into London. But three or four times a year she’d visit her son Sebastian.”

  Herbert nodded.

  “In fact she was just down there a couple of weekends ago, wasn’t she?” he said, looking at his wife.

  “Oh yes, that’s right. And she was there just a few weeks or a month before that. That was unusual.”

  “Tell me more about that,” said Brimley.

  “Well, she usually only went down to visit him quarterly, I’d say,” said Penny. “She was there at Christmas and then I think it must have been late March… maybe early April, and then just a couple of weekends ago. Might even have been the beginning of this month. I can’t remember exact dates. That must be about right though.”

  “And you said he’d never come up here?” asked Brimley.

  “No, we’ve never seen the young lad in the flesh,” said Herbert.

  “What about other men? You said you thought she might have been heading out last night to meet a gentleman. Any gentlemen come calling around here for either of these women?”

  “No. At least not when we’re around. But they work a lot too, and all sorts of hours. It’s quite punishing,” said Herbert. “We don’t know much about their work, but they work throughout the day depending on their schedule.”

  Penny nodded.

  “Sometimes as we’re finishing up breakfast to start our day, Pelly or Minnie will be coming in looking quite exhausted.”

  Brimley took the last drink from his teacup, and he stood up.

  “Do you think I might have a look in their bedrooms. I think that’s what a thorough investigator would want to do. You never know what people hide under their mattresses.”

  Penny smiled at him. She liked the idea of being part of the team investigating this poor woman’s death.

  “We’re not supposed to go into their rooms unless it’s an emergency. They were very strict about that,” said Penny.

  Brimley nodded.

  “I quite understand. But under these circumstances, I don’t think Pelagia would mind. There might be crucial evidence in there.”

  Brimley turned to leave.

  “But I understand. It’s probably best to leave this sort of thing to the actual police. I’ll go and get Captain McBurney. He’ll want to bring a few of his men with him, of course, and then they might track in all sorts of things from the farm. They’re not terribly respectful that way as I remember…”

  “Alright, Walter,” said Herbert. “Maybe a quick look won’t hurt.”

  Penny nodded in agreement.

  “But not Minnie’s room. She might be back any moment, and we’d hate to have her leave us. We’ve become accustomed to the extra allowance the girls bring in each month.”

  Brimley smiled and nodded and followed them towards the back of the house where the rooms were.

  “Of course,” he said.

  EIGHTEEN

  Room with a View

  THE room wasn’t very large at all. It fit a small, single bed, a nightstand and a dressing table that had a mirror attached to the wall and a small stool. There was also a small two-door armoire.

  The head of the bed was on the left as you entered the room. The door opened up almost flush with the wall on the right of the room. Immediately to your left was the armoire and then the bed, and then at the far side of the bed was the nightstand. The dressing table and stool were at the foot of the bed. There was sufficient but little extra room to maneuver around the furniture. The bed was well made and everything in the room was tidy.

  Brimley stepped in and walked to the end of the room and towards the window. He drew the drapes to let the light in. The room was at the back of the house. Because of this, the window looked out over open fields and brush, then trees and beyond that were the buildings of BP. You couldn’t see them well, there were too many trees in the way. Brimley turned around and looked at Herbert and Penny.

  “Minnie’s room is right next door you said,” he said, pointing with his hand at the wall where the head of the bed was. Penny nodded.

  “That’s right. It’s almost a mirror image of this one. Her headboard is up against this very same wall, and the rest is just flipped over as this room is. They’re both very good boarders. Never loud and noisy, and they keep their rooms very neat and tidy.”

  Brimley looked around and nodded. He turned to face the nightstand. There was nothing on it except for a small lamp and a small portable wireless. He opened the top drawer. It was empty. He opened the bottom cupboard. It too was empty. He turned the wireless on, and it was tuned to the BBC. He turned it off again.

  “Not much here, is there?” he said, more to himself than anyone else.

  “No, there doesn’t appear to be,” said Penny.

  Brimley walked to the foot of the bed and pulled the small cushioned stool out from the dressing table. He sat at it and looked at himself in the mirror. He was thinking about Pelagia in this very spot. Perhaps doing her hair or makeup. Where would she put things. A small, round silver jewelry container was to his right on the table. A small, round makeup mirror was in front of him. As he looked at it his features were magnified three or four times. He noticed that his mustache could use a trim. It wasn’t a flattering look.

  To his left was a hairbrush and then just beyond that were two small silver frames. Each had a picture in it. The first one was of a young school boy. He looked to be about fifteen or sixteen in it. Dressed smartly in his school uniform. The background, though blurry looked like it might be his school. He was smiling warmly at the viewer. Next to that was a picture of a man in an air force uniform. He was standing with his arm against a car. He was a handsome man, slim and friendly. He too was smiling at the viewer.

  “This is her husband and son?” asked Brimley, pointing at the two pictures.

  Penny nodded.

  “That’s right. She showed us both of these pictures. I think the one of her husband was taken five or six years ago. It is the most recent photograph of him…”

  “You said he was killed in act
ion.”

  “Yes, at the Battle of Britain, Pelly said.”

  “Pelly?”

  “That’s what her friends called her,” said Penny.

  “And that would have been in ’40. Late summer of ’40 if I recall,” said Brimley.

  Penny didn’t say anything.

  “How old was he when he died?”

  “Forty?” asked Penny, looking at Herbert.

  Herbert nodded his head.

  “Yes, he was forty. Quite a young man.”

  “And this photograph was taken perhaps three or four years before that, putting him at about 37 or 36. He’s a flight lieutenant in this photograph I see, so he must have been made squadron leader shortly before his death.”

  Brimley was talking mostly to himself. Penny and Herbert were leaning in, looking over his shoulder. There was nothing else on the dressing table other than a crocheted white tablecloth that was underneath all of these items. In the middle of the dressing table, at Brimley’s waist was a drawer, he pulled it out. It contained an assortment of makeup items. Loose makeup pencils, lipstick, nail polish and containers of base. There was also personal grooming items like nail clippers and tweezers.

  Brimley didn’t find it very interesting. He closed the drawer.

  “Those would have all been Pelagia’s?” he asked.

  Penny looked at her husband with raised eyebrows.

  “You’re not married, are you, Walter?” she asked.

  He turned his head to look at her.

  “No,” he said. “Why?”

  “Well, a woman doesn’t usually share her makeup with others unless it’s an emergency. We’re very particular about the colors and the types of things we buy. So, to answer your question, those are surely Pelagia’s. We don’t provide anything like that.”

  Brimley smiled thinly.

  “Thank you,” he said, looking back down at the closed drawer.

  To his left and right were two deeper drawers on either side. The top one on the right held a few pounds, if that, in an assortment of bills and coins. The rest were empty. Brimley got up from the dressing table and pushed the stool back in underneath it.

  “That’s quite a bit of money just to keep lying around in a drawer,” said Brimley.

  “It might be for next month’s rent,” said Penny.

  “How much is that?”

  “Three pounds. They each pay three pounds.”

  Brimley nodded.

  He opened up the drawer again and took the money out and counted it. This wasn’t for Penny and Herbert’s use any more. It was now evidence, and beyond that it would go to the estate, likely her son. There was 3 pounds 7 shillings and 6 pence. He put the money back.

  “I shouldn’t touch that,” he said to Penny and Herbert. “The police will likely be here in time to collect all her belongings as evidence.”

  “We shouldn’t dream of it,” said Herbert.

  Brimley nodded.

  “She didn’t have many possessions, did she?”

  “It seemed to me, Walter,” said Herbert, “that everything she did was for her son. She wasn’t a big spender. I imagine everything she earned that wasn’t needed for herself was saved up for her son.”

  “Quite.”

  Brimley walked around to the armoire. He opened it up. It was half full with women's clothing. Dresses, slacks, blouses, cardigans and the like, including a spare coat, similar to the one she was found in this morning. Three pairs of shoes were on the shelf at the bottom. Brimley leaned down and opened the drawer at the bottom. It contained women’s undergarments. They smelt of flowers, and he found the perfume packet placed with them. He looked through the clothing both top and bottom but found nothing. The pockets were empty.

  Brimley closed the armoire doors and the drawer, and then he turned towards the bed. He looked it up and down. He picked up the pillow and found nothing underneath it. He squished it and it felt just like a pillow. He drew back the sheets and lifted the mattress and found two small suitcases under the bed. He pulled them out and placed them back on top of the bed.

  He opened their latches and looked inside them. They were both empty as coffins.

  “That wasn’t very helpful,” he said.

  “She didn’t have much, Walter,” said Penny.

  “I can see that,” he said. “I think the police will want to speak with her son.”

  Brimley walked out of the room, leading Penny and Herbert behind him. Penny stopped for a moment to lock the door. He waited for her in the hallway then walked himself to the front door. He was almost inclined to break his cover. In fact, he kept thinking it might be mandatory in order to be most effective at the task at hand. But now wasn’t the time. He had what he needed from the Smalleys for now. He paused at the entrance.

  “I shouldn’t let anyone into that room unless they’re the police to come collect her belongings. And if you hear from Minnie, notify Captain McBurney at once.”

  Penny and Herbert nodded.

  “Do you have any idea why someone would have wanted to kill the poor woman?” asked Penny.

  Brimley shook his head slowly.

  “No idea, I’m afraid,” he said, lying through his teeth almost as if he believed it. “Do you?”

  Penny shook her head sadly.

  “No. This is such an awful shock to us.”

  And it was. They only knew the young woman superficially, and more than that, they had no idea of the important and secret work that was going on at BP, almost in their own backyard.

  Brimley left them and strode towards the Mansion. He was going to inform Head Security Officer Clyde Albutt that BP was now under his direct command as far as security was concerned. Nobody would be coming and going from the Park unless Brimley specifically knew about it.

  NINETEEN

  Scrambled Eggs

  BRIMLEY was lost in thought. Though his stride was vigorous he was not paying attention to where he was going. He almost walked right into Captain McBurney who was as eagerly walking towards him as he was walking towards the Mansion.

  “Sir,” said McBurney, almost on top of him.

  Brimley stopped and looked at him.

  “Listen, Captain,” he said. “BP is now under my direct control as far as security is concerned. I’m coming out of the shadows. Nobody is to leave or enter without my permission. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Walk with me.”

  “I have something for you, sir,” said McBurney, struggling to keep pace with Brimley as they carried on for the Mansion.

  “What is it? I have important matters to discuss with MI6.”

  “This is important,” said McBurney, proffering a telegraph message to him. Brimley stopped and took the rectangular sheet of paper.

  “What is this?”

  McBurney didn’t say anything, he let Brimley read the message.

  MINNIE SHELFORD MURDERED STOP VISITING LAKE DISTRICT STOP RING FOR DETAILS STOP DCI MILLING CUMBRIA CONSTABULARY

  “When did this come in?” asked Brimley.

  “Just now, sir,” said McBurney.

  “When did it happen?”

  “I just got off the telephone with DCI Milling before bringing this to you. He said it happened around 9am on Sunday past.”

  Brimley stopped again.

  “And we just got this now?”

  Captain McBurney could see he was angry.

  “Yes, sir,” he said.

  Brimley clenched his jaw and shook his head. They carried on walking towards the Mansion.

  “Did you tell this DCI Milling to get down here right away with any and all evidence?” asked Brimley, knowing full well the answer.

  “Uh, no sir, I didn’t think of it.”

  Brimley looked over at Captain McBurney as they strode on.

  “It’s time, Captain, for us to get our ducks in a row and to start using our best abilities. Things have turned very wrong here and we need to get to the bottom of it. Is that clear?”

>   “Yes, sir.”

  “Very well. I want you to get back on the phone with DCI Milling and tell him that MI5 expects him at Bletchley Park this afternoon with all evidence related to Minnie Shelford’s murder. This would include witness statements, her clothing, her personal belongings, murder weapon, etcetera. I want everything, Captain. And I mean everything, even if he has to bring it in a lorry.”

  Captain McBurney nodded his head vigorously.

  “Then,” continued Brimley. “I want you to call up Box 500 and speak to Lester Allen and tell him I want copies of any photographs related to Operation Cracking Eggs sent here today. Better if he brings them himself.”

  Captain McBurney held down a chortle. He found the naming of this operation humorous. It was hard to keep a straight face. At the end he smirked.

  “Do you find the name of this mission humorous, Captain?” asked Brimley.

  “Um, no sir, of course not.”

  Brimley walked with him towards the entrance of the Mansion.

  “It is funny, Captain. But only if you understand why we named it what we did.”

  “Yes, sir,” said McBurney.

  Brimley stopped and turned to face the young Captain.

  “You have your orders. I’ll be upstairs with MI6, report back to me when you’ve finished up.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Captain McBurney was about to head off towards his office.

  “Do we know how she was murdered, this Minnie Shelford?”

  “She was staying at the farm of Mr. and Mrs. Nisbet. He found her on his morning walk in the field. He came up on the scene as she was being stabbed. He frightened away the murderer. DCI Milling believes the culprit is a German man of average height with a missing right baby finger.”

  “Bugger,” said Brimley.

  “I beg your pardon, sir?” said McBurney.

  “Never mind. Get going, Captain.”

  Brimley watched Captain McBurney walk away from him for a little while. The Captain was young and naive, but at least he was eager to help. That was something. Unlike Box 500 who had left him here to run his own show because they didn’t believe him when he’d said that not all German agents would, or had turned. Now he had two dead women to prove his point.

 

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