Tyler’s heart sank. This was what the London constable had told him. Elsie’s family too. How could you tell a man his daughter was missing, maybe even dead like her friend, when the poor sod was already in the midst of tragedy?
“You did absolutely the right thing, Miss Stillwell. We don’t know where Rose is as yet. Better not to alarm her father at a time like this.”
They hung up and Tyler returned to the last of his tea.
Outside the thunder rumbled threateningly. Vera came into the kitchen.
“Did you have a talk with Janet last night?”
“I did. She’s got some things she needs to sort out.”
“I see. I’m to be excluded as usual? I am her mother. I’d like to know what’s on her mind.”
“You’re not being excluded, Vee. It’s just that—”
“She’s Daddy’s girl,” interrupted Vera.
Some time ago it seemed as if he and Vera had come to an unspoken agreement. A girl for him, a boy for her. Nevertheless, Vera resented her daughter’s closeness to her father. For his part, he would liked to have much more communication with his only son, but Vera got in the way.
She began to tug on pristine white gloves. “Jimmy’s already gone. No breakfast again, I might add. He said he was going to help Mrs. Thorne with her garden. She sees more of him than his own mother.” At the door, she turned. “You’d better make sure Janet is up. It takes her an age to get going. She shouldn’t be late.”
She had expressed no curiosity about his early call from Miss Stillwell.
The door snipped shut behind her and Tyler went to the bottom of the stairs. “Janet. Time to get up.”
A rumpled girl appeared on the landing. “I am up, Dad.”
“Tea’s on.”
He returned to the kitchen. Ominous black clouds were roiling in the sky. A thunderstorm was coming.
Janet came down the stairs in her dressing gown.
“I’ve got to go, pet,” said Tyler. “I should have been at the station ten minutes ago. It’s going to rain by the look of it; take your umbrella.”
She gave him an exasperated grin. “I could have figured that out myself, Dad.”
He wagged his finger at her. “Don’t be cheeky. I’ll see you tonight.”
He folded up the bread and jam and crammed it into his mouth. Janet poured herself some tea.
“Look, Jan. I want you to be careful.”
She turned around. “Careful in what way?”
“Use common sense. Don’t go into deserted places by yourself.”
“Dad! I’m working today. You can hardly call Granddad’s shop a deserted place.”
“Nevertheless. All I’m saying is be sensible. I can rely on you for that, can’t I?”
She concentrated on drinking her tea. “Of course you can. See you tonight then.”
25.
THE STORM OPENED UP JUST AS TYLER STEPPED OUT of his door. He made a dash for the police station but even in that short distance, he got drenched.
Sergeant Gough was behind the desk. The clock on the wall showed a quarter past seven.
“What time did you get in?” Tyler asked.
“About half an hour ago. Shall I get you a towel, sir? You resemble a drowned rat, if I may put it that way.”
“You may not. And I can get my own towel.”
The WC was off Tyler’s office. Not quite his own private toilet but close enough. There was another one for general use. He was thinking he might hang his pictures of Clare in here but he hadn’t yet got up the nerve.
He returned to the front desk. “I had a phone call from Miss Stillwell, the warden at the hostel. Rose Watkins has not returned. She thinks she may have been heading for the Prees Heath camp when the maid saw her. They have a priest there who says Mass. Apparently locals have been attending.”
“Yes, I heard about that.”
“What! How come you know of it, and I didn’t?”
“From Constable Collis, as a matter of fact. He’s RC and found out he could attend Mass there. It’s closer than his own regular church. He was worried, in case it would look bad. An officer of the Shropshire constabulary cavorting with enemy aliens.”
“You said it was fine, I presume?”
“I did. The super apparently attended a concert at the camp not so long ago.” Gough did an imitation of the posh, marble-mouthed superintendent. “Quite superior music, I’d say. As good as Albert Hall.”
Tyler laughed. “I’ll speak to the priest when I go over there today. In the meantime, Guff, let’s go over what we have so far?”
Gough handed him a piece of paper. “Here’s a list of all vehicles that have been registered since the outbreak of war. It’s by no means complete, but it’s a place to start.”
Tyler glanced over it. The local ones he was familiar with. Sir Percy had three registered: his Bentley, the Rolls, and the farm lorry. Arthur Trimble had a Ford; Dr. Murnaghan and the vicar both had Austins; the headmaster of the private school in Market Drayton drove a Rover. See how long he’d get to drive that with petrol rationing.
He drew a line through the vicar’s name. “Reverend Pound’s Austin has been up on blocks for the past six months. He goes everywhere on his bike.”
To his surprise, there was a 1933 Morris registered to Alice Thorne. He’d never seen her drive it, but she’d renewed the licence just last year.
“There are two temporary registrations,” said Gough. “They’re both garaged at the manor. A Mrs. Devereau, who owns an MG, and a Miss Hancocks, who has a Riley. Isn’t she the same girl who claims her brother gave her a gun?”
Tyler had rung Gough the previous night to tell him what had occurred at the hostel.
“One and the same. She says she was at home in ‘Barth’, with her mummy and daddy until eleven in the morning. Have the local plod go to the house and confirm that. He should also get a sworn affidavit from the brother. From the description, the Luger that killed Elsie is no doubt the same as the one he purchased. The holster I put in the drawer of my desk, with a piece of paper with the serial number of the gun on it. Compare the two, will you Guff?”
“Will do. You said it seems like the Bates girl stole the gun herself. Was she carrying it with her, do you think?”
“Might have been. Maybe she aimed it at her killer and he grabbed it.” He rubbed his head vigorously, and turned his attention back to the list of registered vehicles, checking off each name. Seven vehicles belonging to local farmers, all men he knew well. Two motorcycles; one of them registered to Jimmy, and the other to Bobby Walker. He remembered they had bought them at the same time, shortly before they signed up for the army. Come to think of it, he’d lent Jimmy the money and he hadn’t paid it back yet.
“Good work, Guff. Let’s get our lads for this job. They should talk to everybody on this list who I haven’t crossed off. We need to ask the owners for their whereabouts yesterday morning between six and seven, no, make that five-thirty and seven. I want to talk personally to anybody who can’t account for themselves.”
“Yes, sir. Does that include Jimmy?”
“Of course. Why not? Complete impartiality is our middle name.” Tyler tried to make a joke of it.
“Yes, sir. I just thought that if you could vouch for Jimmy’s whereabouts, it would save us some time.”
“We’re talking about six o’clock in the morning, Guff. I don’t sleep with the lad. I didn’t see him when I was hauled out of bed by Sir P.’s phone call, which was at seven. He’s the original Scarlet Pimpernel, that boy. Speak to Bobby Walker, too, if you can get permission from the hospital.”
Tyler realized how peculiar his words must sound, and he touched his finger to the side of his nose.
“Here’s a clue for you, Guff. Seven-letter word for a major cock-up of this war.”
“I’d say that was Dunkirk.”
“And you’d be right. Perhaps one of these days my son will tell me what went on.”
A thunder clap sounded cl
ose, and they stopped for a moment to listen to the rain drumming on the roof.
“I’ve a cousin as lives in Dover,” continued the sergeant. “His fishing boat got commandeered by the navy. He could have left it to them blokes, but he dotes on that boat of his and he insisted on, skippering it himself. Nobody would tell him what was going on, but he was ordered to cross the channel. They says he’d get his instructions when they got there.” The sergeant paused. “He’s not what you’d call a fanciful man, is my cousin, but he wrote to me after. He said it was like sailing into hell itself. The smoke from the burning tankers was making everything dark, like it was night, even though the sun was shining. The sea was thick with the dead, bobbing like apples on a pond … his words, not mine, sir. There were hundreds and hundreds of men waiting to get off the beaches. The little boats like his were used to ferry the soldiers to the destroyers, which couldn’t get in close enough. But Jerry was strafing them as they waited. My cousin was told to get out and return to Dover, so he did. He was overloaded and could have hit a mine at any time, but he made it. He says he has nightmares.”
This lengthy speech by the normally taciturn sergeant was unprecedented and took Tyler aback. Then he nodded. “So does Jimmy. But he won’t talk about it. I don’t know how to help him.”
“Maybe it’s just a matter of time, sir.”
“I don’t know how much of that we’ve got. He’ll be sent back to join his unit soon and then to the front. I’m not happy knowing he’ll be fighting in the state he’s in now.”
“I saw him in the market a couple of weeks ago,” said Gough. “He bought one of Mrs. Thorne’s concoctions, I noticed. I got some soap for the wife myself. Perhaps your lad has a lass he’s courting on the sly.”
Tyler registered this information but said nothing.
“What about the car belonging to Mrs. Devereau?” asked the sergeant. “The MG? Do you want us to speak to her as well?”
Tyler drummed his fingers on the desk. “Let’s put it this way, Guff. Mrs. Devereau is living on the Somerville estate and she works at the Prees Heath camp. She had no reason to be on the Heath Road. I think we can assume she’s not involved.”
“If you say so, sir. Shouldn’t we follow up anyway? Then we can cross her off the list.”
Tyler handed the list back.
“I’ll look after it, Guffie. I will also speak to my son. Happy now?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have Eagleton and Collis come in yet?”
“I told them to be here by seven-thirty.”
“Ah, speaking of the devils.”
The door banged open and the two constables burst in. They too had got soaked and were laughing together at their mutual state.
“Well look at the sweet little duckies,” said Tyler. “Don’t you lads have enough sense to carry brollies?”
“Morning, sir,” said the two constables in unison.
“You’re dripping all over the floor. Here.” He threw them the towel. “There’s another one in the kitchen. Eager, go and get it. I don’t want you lads catching your death. I don’t have any replacements.” The constable scurried off.
“And while you’re doing that, make us all a cuppa. Extra sugar for me. Use your own ration if you have to. I’ll owe you.”
When the two young men had dried off as best they could, and the tea was made, the three police officers gathered around Tyler’s desk.
“All right. Do I now have your complete attention?” They nodded. “Collis, when will the photographs of the body be ready?”
“Mr. Henry promised to have them developed early this afternoon.”
“Good. Dr. Murnaghan has completed his post-mortem and is sending those photos over as well. We’ll pin them up in the duty room so we can have a good study. If either of you faints, you’ll have to lie there; I’m not picking you up and rubbing your cold little hands. Understood?”
“Excuse me, sir,” said Collis. “I don’t think any photograph could be as bad as the actual thing.”
“Quite right, lad. You lads did good. Now then.” Tyler tapped on the piece of paper. “Guff here has made three copies of this list. I’m giving you one. Don’t lose it. You’ve got to track down everybody. Get alibis. While you’re at it, see if anybody heard anything, saw anything, smelled anything … I don’t care which. We know somebody was driving on the Heath Road around six o’clock, and that shortly afterward a girl was shot. Ask if anybody heard the gun shot.”
“Yes, sir.” Eagleton especially was having difficulty containing his enthusiasm.
“While you’re asking these questions you are also what, Eagleton? What are you also doing?”
“Keeping our eyes and ears open for anything that seems suspicious.”
“Good. Now it’s very possible, given the precarious times we are living in, that the person you are talking to may be evidencing signs of guilt. It doesn’t mean they know eff all about Elsie Bates. They may be into profiteering or messing with the neighbour’s wife while the poor sod’s on the front line. Don’t arrest them. Just make a mental note and tell me about it later.”
He looked at his watch. “Sergeant, get hold of the Barth chappies, will you? Tell them it’s urgent. You know how lackadaisical they are. Too much sulphur in the water. Collis, go and fetch that blackboard. The one we used to teach the infant school kiddies how to put on their gas masks. There’s one more thing I want to think about before we all scatter. Then I’ve got to get over to the camp to meet a German professor who thinks he can help us. He’s an expert on the criminal mind, apparently. As far as I am concerned he can stuff his theories up his jacksie but he’s an enemy alien. He might be able to tell me more than he realizes.”
Tyler stood the blackboard in the centre of his office. “All right, lads, put on your thinking caps. I want you to say anything that comes to mind, don’t worry if it sounds right stupid. We’ll sort out the gold from the dross as we go. Now then, Collis, you can be teacher. Draw a line down the middle; on the left, write ‘certain’, on the right, ‘possible’. You’d better write small; there are more variables in this case than there are pieces in Guffie’s dog’s sick up.”
The constables allowed themselves little disloyal grins. Sergeant Gough owned a racing greyhound that he was very proud of. It had a sensitive stomach.
Tyler drank some of his tea. “Ready? Question number one. Where was the vehicle going at that hour of the morning? Was it driving south from the direction of Whitchurch or north toward Whitchurch? The Heath Road is joined further down by the number four road, which comes from Shrewsbury or from Market Drayton. And of course anywhere beyond that. Any ideas?”
Both constables were quiet, then Eagleton said tentatively, “There aren’t many people out driving in the dark these days, sir, unless their journey is urgent or …”
“Or what, Eager? Spit it out.”
“Or they are doing something nefarious, sir.”
“Good word, nefarious. I like it. Makes me feel educated. Or in common parlance, they are doing something against the law. Which could be a variety of things, such as?”
“B and E. The driver was coming from a robbery.”
“A well-heeled crook if he has his own car, but that’s all right. Besides, nobody has reported a robbery. Go on.”
“Black marketeering,” chipped in Collis. “The driver had either made a delivery or was on his way to do so.”
“Or was collecting something himself on the black market,” said Eagleton.
Collis scrambled to write all this on the board.
“Now for convenience sake we are referring to our crook as male, but the driver could have been female,” remarked Tyler.
“Or more than one person,” said Eagleton.
“Exactly, could be a whole bloody gang for all we know.”
“In which case we should particularly take a look at lorries,” said Eagleton, dead serious.
“Good point. If there was more than one person in the vehicle, it p
ossibly makes our case a bit easier. Why is that, Eager?” Tyler pointed at him.
“Because there is no honour among thieves and somebody could snitch.”
“Exactly. All right, let’s continue. We still don’t have much on the certain side. I think we can safely assume Elsie Bates was heading south toward the hostel, although we can’t totally rule out that she had left her lorry, biked off, met somebody for a bit of a shag, then was returning to the lorry in a northerly direction.”
“That would put her having sex about five o’clock in the morning, or sooner, sir,” blurted out Collis. “It’s a bit early, isn’t it?”
“Lad, are you a virgin?”
The constable blushed. “Well yes, sir, I am. I live at home and …”
“I thought you must be with a comment like that. You’ll find out. Mornings are the best time to do it. For a man, anyway. So where were we? The lorry worked quite all right when we tried to start it, and we were able to drive it to the station. However, according to Elsie’s friend, Rose, it had been giving her trouble. Anyway, let’s go for the simplest explanation. The lorry conked out and Elsie left it and set off to bike to the hostel. The coroner said Elsie was hit hard on the left thigh. What does that tell you, Eager?”
“Not a lot, I’m afraid, sir. The road isn’t wide, so we can’t assume the vehicle was keeping to the left-hand side. They rarely do. In fact they’d be foolish to do so in the dark.”
“Continue then.”
“Sir,” said Collis, “if I were biking on the road in the near dark and I heard a car coming, I would move over to one side or the other to get out of the way.”
“Right. So we’re betting even odds that the vehicle was coming from the north, but we won’t close our minds to the possibility that it was the opposite. Write that down, Collis. But dammit. I feel like I’m trying to do a crossword puzzle without any clues.”
“You should speak to the sergeant about that, sir,” said Eager. “He’s an expert.”
Tyler drummed his fingers on the paper in front of him. “What else do we know? Just give me the certainties.”
Season of Darkness Page 15
