“Sorry.”
There was something in her voice that made him gaze at her more closely.
“Don’t worry about it, pet. I didn’t mean to sound sharp with you. I know this news is very upsetting.”
She gulped. “It’s not only that Dad. It’s something else. Something I have to talk to you about.”
Crikey. Both of his children were acting as if they had the troubles of the world on their shoulders. He stood up and gently removed the frying pan from the stove. His bread was in danger of burning.
“I’ll finish this. You sit down and tell me what’s the matter.”
She did as he said, and he slid the hardening egg onto his fried bread and slipped it onto a plate. He sat down opposite her and chomped on his sandwich. Egg ran out of the sides and down his chin. He licked it off with his fingers.
“You’ve dripped egg on your shirt,” said Janet.
“Shite.” He rubbed at it with his handkerchief.
“It’s Granddad …” She swallowed hard.
“Has he been giving you a hard time? You weren’t late again, were you?”
“No. It’s not that …”
“Spit it out, Jan. I’m all ears.”
She answered quickly. “I think he’s into the black market.”
Tyler mopped up the remains of the egg with his bread. “What makes you say that?”
“You know part of my job is to keep inventory of the eggs and chickens that the farmers bring in. For the past month, I keep coming up short. The numbers don’t balance from what I know we’ve taken in and what we’ve sold. It’s not just a little difference. It’s as much as two dozen eggs a week and two or three chickens … I told him about it and he said I must be mistaken. He said I never was good at arithmetic. He was really ticked off with me. So all last week, I double-checked and triple-checked but it was the same. There’s also a side of beef gone. We’re short of chops and we ought to have a lot more mince than we do.”
“So you think he’s selling the produce on the black market?”
“Lady Somerville’s cook comes by on a regular basis. She always waits until the shop is empty, then Granddad takes her into the back pantry.” Suddenly she gave an impish grin. “If Mrs. Sharpe wasn’t as ugly as the side of a barn, I’d think they were up to some hanky panky. She always comes out looking like a cat that swallowed the canary … She’s not the only one. Mr. Morgan dropped by on Monday. He had a sack of new potatoes and I know for sure he left them with Granddad, who gave him a couple of pork chops. And sometimes he takes people’s ration coupons and sometimes he doesn’t. They pay cash across the counter instead. It’s not fair to the other people who are playing by the rules, is it?”
“Not only is it not fair, it’s illegal.”
They heard the front door open and both involuntarily jumped. Vera was home.
“Let’s talk about this later,” said Tyler quietly.
“I don’t know what to do, Dad.”
He patted her hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get over to the hostel.”
Vera came into the kitchen in time to hear these words.
“Did you get the tea I left?”
“I didn’t have time. Our Jan made me an egg instead.”
“What about the chop? What am I going to do with that?”
“I’ll have it tomorrow,” said Tyler, trying to keep the impatience out of his voice. He kissed his daughter on the cheek, went to do the same for Vera, but practically bounced off the angry cloud surrounding her.
He left and went back to the police station to pick up the Humber.
And what the hell was he going to do if Lambeth was into profiteering? The penalties for black marketing were severe. Vera would be devastated if Tyler had to bring charges against her own father. She wouldn’t see it as him having to do his job. She would expect Tyler to be loyal to the family first and foremost. But he had little doubt Janet was right in her suspicions. Lambeth as long as he’d known him had been a cheat. Tyler had received several complaints that he was short weighting his customers, or that he bought inferior meat and sold it as prime. The trouble was he had a virtual monopoly in the village, and unless people wanted to travel all the way to Market Drayton or to Shrewsbury for their meat, he was it.
When he got to the Humber, he channelled all his frustrations into cranking the old car.
21.
MISS STILLWELL HAD WISELY ASSEMBLED THE SIX Land Army girls in the common room as soon as they returned so as to quell the exchange of anxiety and speculation. They were still wearing their work clothes: khaki dungarees and cream-coloured shirts. As Elsie had, they all looked fit and healthy with fresh tanned skin, but even those who were showing a lot of control seemed young and vulnerable. Only one girl was dressed in civilian clothes, a smart navy suit. Her hair was drawn up to a fashionable roll. This must be the girl who had been away on compassionate leave. What was her name? Francis? No, Florence. Rose Watkins was not present.
Tyler told them as simply and directly as possible what had happened, but mentioned only the shooting. He decided to keep the details he’d got from Dr. Murnaghan to himself for a while.
Shock ran through the group. Two or three of the girls wept and were comforted. Finally, they quieted down and he was able to continue.
“I can assure you, we are doing everything in our power to find the culprit. I will need to ask a few questions.” He took his notebook out of his pocket. “I would also appreciate it if you would state your name first.”
One of the girls seated on the couch raised her hand. “My name is Molly Cooper and I have a question.” Her voice had the rather nasal pitch typical of the upper class.
Tyler jotted down in his book: Molly. Brown hair and eyes. Good breeding.
“Do you think that the rest of us are in danger? You are telling us that Elsie was shot. Can we rule out a Jerry parachutist?”
Tyler hesitated. “There has been absolutely no sign of an enemy in the vicinity. No planes have flown over for several weeks. And in the absolute unlikelihood that there was such a man, I can see no reason for him to have attacked Miss Bates.”
Another girl, whose hair was as carrot red as his own, blurted out, “Yes, there is. If Elsie saw him, he would have killed her to avoid discovery.”
“That is Pam Reynolds, better known as Freckles for obvious reasons,” said Molly, who had naturally taken on the role of spokeswoman.
Tyler made a note.
“We are, of course, investigating every possibility, but until we do find the person involved, I want you to use common sense.” He smiled at them. “I know you Land Army girls have lots of that. Stay with each other at all times and go out only in daylight. Report any strange activity to the police at once.”
“Frankly, I’m scared silly,” jumped in another girl. “My name’s Jessie Bailey … better known as Titch. Why weren’t we told earlier? What if some Nazi is on the loose? We were out in the fields. We could easily have been attacked.”
One of the younger-looking girls dropped her head onto her neighbour’s shoulder.
“I want to go home,” she said in a muffled voice.
She had a smooth, rosy-cheeked face. Tyler couldn’t help but notice the rather extraordinary swell of her bosom underneath her close fitting dungarees. This must be Sylvia, the recipient of Morgan’s unwelcome attentions. Her neighbour, a dark-haired, rather dour-looking girl, patted her. The others started to shift and talk to each other. The red-haired girl was sniffling.
Tyler held up his hands. “Wait a minute, ladies. This isn’t the attitude of the Land Army I know.”
Miss Stillwell spoke up. “Girls, please. I have every faith that Inspector Tyler will not expose us to danger. If we go galloping off on the trail of non-existent Jerrys, we might miss the obvious.”
That got through to them. All eyes focused on him.
He continued. “Right. Your warden makes a very good point. Ca
n I go on?”
“Please do,” Molly answered for them.
“Did Miss Bates have any enemies that you know of? Did she quarrel with anybody? Is there anyone she might have angered?”
More uneasy silence, then Molly spoke again.
“She was very well liked here. She was generous and kind-hearted, and if we were down at all, you could count on Elsie to cheer us up with a singsong. Isn’t that right, girls?”
The others were nodding except for the dark-haired girl seated beside Sylvia.
“Believe me, none of you are under suspicion,” said Tyler. “Miss Bates was killed while you were all having breakfast.”
He noticed that Freckles glanced quickly over at Florence.
“I know you said it’s not likely it was a Jerry,” said Titch. “But what if it was a fifth columnist? Somebody local. What if Elsie found out and they killed her?”
“Anybody you have in mind?” Tyler asked.
Titch shook her head.
He went on. “Did Miss Bates have any boyfriends?”
The dark-haired girl was the one who answered first. Her tone was flat and unemotional. “I think that would depend on what you mean by boyfriend, and what day of the week it was. Elsie was a flirt. There always seemed to be some bloke or other coming to the hostel to call for her. She never let on she was living in town. Gave her an escape hatch.”
“And you are?”
“Muriel Fellows. I’m usually referred to as Lanky.”
She didn’t look particularly tall to Tyler but her accent was Lancashire. He wrote in his book: Muriel. Heavy eyebrows. Plain. Jealous of Elsie?
“I spoke to Mrs. Clark and Miss Watkins earlier,” said Tyler. “They both thought that Miss Bates might have had somebody more special recently. Did anybody else think that?”
Again the girls shook their heads.
“Speaking of Rose,” said Molly. “How is she? She must be devastated. She and Elsie were inseparable.”
“She is resting,” answered Miss Stillwell. “I thought it better that she not have to go through all this questioning again.”
“Can we talk to her?” asked Freckles.
“Of course. She will probably join us for supper.”
Tyler drew their attention back to the matter in hand.
“As I have told you, Miss Bates was shot. The gun was a Luger. A 1917 model. It would certainly help us to trace the owner. Does anybody know of, or has anybody seen such a gun?”
Florence Hancocks’s hand flew to her mouth. “Good Lord! I have a Luger. My brother gave it to me. It’s in my room.”
Clearly not everybody had heard of this, and there was a gasp and twitter in the ranks.
“Oh dear,” said Miss Stillwell. So much for regulations.
“Did this gun have any particular distinguishing marks on it?” Tyler asked.
“There is a letter B engraved on the stock, which is blue. It must have been put there by the previous owner.”
“Will you check to see if it’s still there?”
Florence hurried out of the room. The rest of the girls sat in an uneasy silence. Tyler didn’t try to break it.
The girl soon returned. She was carrying a worn leather holster.
“The gun has gone!”
“Can I see the holster?” Tyler asked.
She handed it to him. The leather was scuffed in places, but in good shape otherwise, the brass studs intact. There was a long shoulder strap. It was German all right. He’d seen enough of them to know.
“You say you got this from your brother?”
Florence was pale and she looked frightened. The others were staring at her.
“My older brother, Simon Hancocks, purchased a German Luger in London after the war. It was quite above board and legal and all that. The registration paper is in the holster.”
Tyler verified that was true.
“He decided to lend it to me when I joined the Land Army because he thought I might need to control vermin, or rabbits, or such. I wasn’t sure I would be allowed to keep it and I certainly didn’t want it to be confiscated, so I put it in my drawer and frankly forgot all about it.” She had a pleasant county accent that reflected diligent teachers but was not necessarily one she had been born to.
“When was the last time you saw the gun?”
“It was certainly there the day I left for Bath. I was considering returning it to my brother, but in all the rush, it slipped my mind.”
“When was that, Miss Hancocks?”
“I heard that my mother was taken ill on Tuesday. I left that afternoon.”
Abruptly, she reached into her handbag and took out a gold cigarette case. “Miss Stillwell, I’m sorry, but do you mind if I have a cigarette? My nerves are all to pieces.”
Tyler noticed she was wearing an engagement ring that sported a sparkling diamond.
The warden nodded. “Very well. Just this once.”
“Me too,” said Titch, and without asking for permission, she held out her hand to Florence, who gave her a cigarette. Molly took one as well. Tyler made notes while he waited for them all to light up. The cigarettes were Players.
“You were not present at breakfast, Miss Hancocks?”
“No, I only returned a half hour ago.”
“Everything all right at home, I hope.”
She sucked in smoke. “Yes, thank you. My mother suffers from rheumatism. I was the tonic she needed, so she’s right as rain now.”
Tyler flipped to a fresh page in his notebook. “And she lives in Bath?”
“Yes.”
“I will need the address if you don’t mind.”
Muriel Fellows burst out. “I had no knowledge of that gun, I want you to know.” She turned to Tyler. “Florrie and I share a room.”
Florence jumped in. “I didn’t tell anybody it was there, not even Muriel. As I say, I actually forgot about it.”
“You should have said. I don’t like the idea that there was a gun a few feet away from me all the time.”
“It was quite safe, Muriel,” replied Florence. “It’s hardly going to go off on its own.”
There was a dead silence. Tyler could tell that this presented the girls with an alarming image.
Molly Cooper stubbed out her cigarette. “Does this mean that the gun which killed Elsie belonged to Florence here?”
“I’ll have to check the serial number,” said Tyler. “It very well might be.”
“The gun must have been stolen from Miss Hancocks’s room while she was away,” said Miss Stillwell.
“What are you implying, Warden? Nobody here killed Elsie Bates,” said Molly.
Miss Stillwell spoke softly. “I’m not implying anything, Molly. But the gun didn’t just walk out on its own.”
Suddenly, Sylvia began to cry again, deep childlike sobs. “I want to go home. I’m so scared.” She was joined by Freckles, who dived into Titch’s shoulders.
“Me too. This is horrible.”
Molly stood up and went to comfort them. Florence Hancocks didn’t move, but to Tyler’s eyes, she looked wretched.
Titch eased herself away from Freckles. “Excuse me, Inspector … I wasn’t going to say anything at first because it seemed sort of mean-spirited now that Elsie’s dead, but perhaps I should.”
“You must try to let me be the judge of what’s important, Miss Bailey, and it certainly isn’t mean-spirited if it means we get the murderer.”
Titch gulped. “It’s my belief that Elsie Bates herself could have took that there gun … Tuesday last, I had to come home from the fields because I had a bit of sun stroke … you remember don’t you?” she appealed to the others.
“That’s right. You came back to the hostel about three o’clock. We were at Morgan’s,” said Molly.
“Well, I almost bumped into Elsie in the hall right outside of Muriel and Florence’s room. I knew Florrie was planning to leave by two, and I didn’t think anybody was in the house. ‘How come you’re not out in the fields?�
�� I asks Elsie. She looked a bit miffed. ‘I have a headache,’ says she. ‘I thought I’d have a lie-down before I collect you lot.’ ” Titch hesitated. “She was carrying a jersey over her arm. I did wonder why, considering it was a warm day, but never thought more about it until now … She could have been hiding the gun.”
“How would she know it was there?” Tyler asked her. “Miss Hancocks has said she told no one.”
The redhead, Freckles, put up her hand. “Some of us have found things gone missing over the past two months. Just little things, almost too silly to mention really …” Some nods from the others.
“What sort of things?” Tyler asked. “Tell me exactly.”
“Why is it the first I’ve heard of this?” exclaimed Miss Stillwell.
Freckles continued to address Tyler. “I had a bag of sweets that my mum sent me and I put them on my chest of drawers. When I came home I thought several were gone …” She was blushing. “You know how it is, you start wondering, did I eat more than I thought? Did somebody –”
“You thought I’d been into them,” said Sylvia. “But I hadn’t. I don’t like barley sugars.”
“The same sort of thing happened to me the following week,” said Titch. “I was missing one of my favourite ivory hair combs. It’s so easy to lose things like that without realizing it, so I didn’t fuss. Then I mentioned it to you, Molly, and you said you’d had something gone too. You were sure you had a half-dozen Woman’s Weekly in your drawer but you couldn’t find one of them.”
“True,” said Molly, “but then Freckles admitted she’d been helping herself.”
“Only one. I only borrowed one,” said Freckles. “I read it and put it straight back.”
“I had a pair of new gloves,” said Lanky. “I have to admit I’m not the tidiest of people but when I went to look for them, I couldn’t find them. That was about two weeks ago.” She looked shamefaced. “I didn’t report it because I wasn’t sure.”
“But now you think Miss Bates may have taken them?”
“Possibly.”
Season of Darkness Page 12
