Season of Darkness

by Maureen Jennings

  “How much?”

  She shrugged delicately. “They are quite dear normally but I am a patriotic woman. For you I will charge three guineas.”

  “For a scarf!”

  She wasn’t in the least perturbed by his reaction. “It is unique. In these days of such pervasive uniformity, that makes it special, don’t you think?”

  It was extortion. He put it back on the counter. “I’m afraid I’m not a customer today, ma’am.”

  She refolded the scarf. “I quite understand.”

  “Do you know a young woman by the name of Florence Hancocks?”

  “No. But not everybody gives their name when they purchase lingerie here.”

  “Tall, pretty, with light brown hair. She is with the Land Army.”

  “I have no such recollection. My prices are generally beyond the means of those particular young women.” She smiled a rather tight smile. “I wish I could be more helpful, Inspector.”

  “Thank you, madam, you have been helpful.”

  As he turned to go, she held up the silk scarf. “For you, I can offer a special price. And this is my last. Two guineas.”

  She slipped the scarf around her neck, the gesture elegant and so French. The blue looked beautiful against her black dress.

  He was mad, he knew he was, but he succumbed. “All right, I’ll take it.”

  She whisked the scarf off and started to wrap it in tissue paper.

  “Can I interest you in anything else? A nightdress for instance? I have a rather exquisite one in black taffeta. Also from Paris.”

  “No, thank you. The scarf is quite enough.”

  “I do have a small box with my monogram on it, but whereas ladies like to display the place of purchase, I find many gentlemen prefer anonymity.” She gave him a sly look. “All the better to surprise the lady who is the lucky recipient.”

  He handed over the money, stuffed the tissue parcel in his jacket pocket, and practically ran from the shop. Mad. He was quite, quite mad.

  31.

  IT WAS RIDICULOUS TO THINK THAT A FLIMSY PIECE of silk could generate heat, but Tyler’s pocket felt hot. He walked quickly through the station to his office and stashed the package in the top drawer of his desk with the two paintings. He was getting a nice little guilt collection. He was tempted to take out the paintings and have a look at them, but managed to resist. Instead, he called Gough in.

  “I’ve got some news about Rose Watkins.” He filled the sergeant in on his conversation with Father Glatz. “If we don’t hear anything by tomorrow, I’m going to designate her a missing person.”

  “How was your chat with the esteemed head scratcher?”

  Tyler laughed. “Not bad considering. He presented me with this article.” He tossed it to Gough. “You can read it if you like, then give me the gist.”

  The sergeant looked dubious. “I’ve got rather a lot to deal with at the moment, sir. I don’t know when I’ll be able to get to it.”

  “Coward. Never mind. I’ll look at it later. I don’t suppose we’ve heard from Eager or Collis, have we?”

  “No, sir. They’ve got quite a wide area to cover. But I did get hold of most of the reservists. They’ll be reporting in later this afternoon.”

  Tyler gave Gough the piece of paper from his notebook. “Good. Will you type this up? It’s a description of Rose and what she was wearing. We can circulate it if she doesn’t turn up soon.” He sighed. “But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  The telephone rang in the front hall and Gough went to answer it. Tyler got up and stared at the blackboard he’d left up. He supposed he should write: “Florence Hancocks not telling the truth.” At least it would give him more in the “certain” column.

  The intercom sounded. “A call from London, sir.”

  “Put it through.”

  Tyler picked up his receiver. The connection was full of static and he could hardly hear the voice on the other end.

  “Sergeant Donaldson ’ere, sir. I’m calling further to my visit to the Bates family. Like I reported, sir –” Crackling intervened, then Donaldson’s voice was back. “I was able to speak to Mr. Bates. He says they can’t come up to Whitchurch at the present time unless their transportation is paid for. Can’t say he seemed very sorry about his daughter. No love lost there.” More static.

  “Thanks, Sergeant. We’ll just have to keep her here until they’re ready. Now while I’m talking to you, there is another job I need you to do. Elsie Bates’s friend, a girl named Rose Watkins, has vanished. It is possible she has got herself down to London to be with her family.”

  Tyler could hear the exhalation on the other end of the line. “When I went to the Bates residence, the local fire warden did say that one of the other houses belonged to a family named Watkins. The daughter was good chums with Elsie Bates and had joined the Land Army. It has to be the same girl you’re asking about.”

  “That’s the one. I’m not banking on her having got to London but we need to check it out.”

  “She’d get a shock if she did get here. There’s hardly anything left standing on the street. But I’ll see who I can track down.” He coughed. “And what shall I tell them, sir? How shall I explain why I’m asking?”

  “Shite. They’re going to have to be told sooner or later. Just see if you can find out if anybody has heard from the girl. If they haven’t, just waffle until I can get back to you with more news.”

  “Do you think she’s dead, sir?”

  Tyler’s anxiety made him irritable and he snapped out. “I have no idea. Let’s hope not. Sorry, Sergeant, I didn’t mean to take your head off.”

  “That’s all right, sir. We’re all on edge these days.”

  “Aren’t we though. But get on to that for me as soon as you can.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They hung up and Tyler snapped the intercom on.

  “Sergeant, get hold of Dr. Murnaghan for me. Tell him that we can’t get any of Elsie Bates’s family to claim the body just now. He’s going to have to keep it for the time being. Did those casings and bullets get sent over to the Brummagen lab?”

  “Yes, sir. They went on the ten o’clock train. They promised to get back to us in a couple of days.”

  “Any word from Bath yet?”

  “No, sir. The police there claim they’re short-handed.”

  “Who isn’t? Ring them again, will you, Guff. Put a cracker up their arse. I’d like to confirm Miss Hancocks’s story as soon as possible. Apparently, she and Elsie had a nasty fight recently.” He paused. “Do you remember that speech Superintendent Davies made when he was retiring last year? We had it typed up and framed.”

  “Yes, sir, I do remember. Very moving it was. Sorry the super didn’t last long after that, he was always something of a poet.”

  “He said the qualifications of a good policeman were the strength of a lion, eyesight of an eagle, tact of an ambassador, worldly knowledge of an undergrad, patience of a husband, and memory of a wronged wife.”

  Gough chuckled. “My wife took a bit of exception to that last bit, sir. It got quite a laugh as I recall, but Julie said it was wives who had to have the patience, and men were more likely to remember wrongs than women.”

  “She’s probably right about that. The super certainly had very high standards for coppers. I wouldn’t mind having the eyesight of an eagle right now, never mind the other things. Anyway, keep going. Is there anything else I should be looking in to?”

  “We’ve had the usual complaints about black marketeers and fifth columnists. Mrs. Marshall called again to report on Mrs. Thorne. She claims she was flashing a light intermittently, and according to Mrs. Marshall that’s a sure sign Mrs. Thorne was signalling to the Luftwaffe.”

  “There was no warning of enemy aircraft in the area as far as I know, was there Gough?”

  “No, sir. None.”

  “All right. I was going to talk to Mrs. Thorne anyway. I’ll ask her about it. What else?”

  “A
new one this time. Came in on the telephone call but the caller refused to identify himself. He says that Fred Walker is using his pigeons to send messages to the Jerry. He saw him removing a piece of paper from the bird’s leg.”

  “Idiot. He’s right about one thing. Fred was removing a piece of paper. It was a record of the time when the pigeon was released. He flies his birds competitively.”

  “I know, sir. The complaints get more ridiculous every day. Somebody said Ewen Morgan has ploughed his field in the shape of an arrow to direct the Luftwaffe.”

  “Direct them to what?”

  “I don’t know, Liverpool I suppose, or Birmingham.”

  “My God, it won’t be hard to defeat an enemy that has to rely on ploughed fields for directions. Any more?”

  “Mrs. Newey on Green Lane wants to know why we are allowing evacuated children to come here when they are obviously of enemy origin. Why aren’t we giving the space to our own English children?”

  “What the hell is she talking about?”

  “Apparently there are three kiddies in town who have been evacuated from Birmingham. They’re dark skinned. I heard they’re French, but some people are saying they’re Italian. You know how people are. Mrs. Newey isn’t the only one giving them the cold shoulder by all accounts.”

  Tyler sighed. “Makes you wonder sometimes what we’re fighting for. Is that it?”

  “One more. Cecil Russell says the internees are getting out of the camp at night and poaching his rabbit traps.”

  “Why the internees? Surely it’s village boys?”

  “He says he saw one of them. Claims he was muttering to himself in a foreign tongue.”

  “Where was this?”

  “In the Acton Wood, not far from the Heath.”

  “All right. See if one of the lads can go and chat with Mr. Russell.”

  “You don’t believe it was an internee, do you, sir?”

  “No. It was probably Alice Thorne springing the traps. She hates them with a passion.”

  Tyler replaced the receiver in the cradle. He knew people were nervous and jumpy but sometimes he lost his patience with the nonsense that got phoned in. Pretty well everybody had known each other and their families all of their lives. Couldn’t they use some common sense?

  The intercom buzzed again.

  “Bath just got back, sir. The young lady was definitely fibbing. She wasn’t in Bath at all. She hasn’t been there since June.”

  “Oh, great! Did they talk to her brother about the Luger?”

  “That part is true. He did lend it to her when she joined the Land girls.”

  “This calls for another drive out to the hostel. You’d better requisition some more petrol before we run out.”

  “Will do. Why do you think she lied, sir?”

  Tyler sighed. “Because the silly girl was shagging some fellow. She’s engaged but I’ll bet it wasn’t him. Anyway, let’s see what she has to say for herself.”

  32.

  TYLER HAD GOUGH RING THE HOSTEL AND FLORENCE Hancocks was waiting for him in the library when he arrived. She was seated in the same chair that Rose had been in before. Unlike tiny Rose, her feet touched the floor. She clasped her hands together in her lap.

  “Miss Hancocks, we are all under strain here and I don’t want to keep you longer than necessary, or to waste my own time while you run me around the Wrekin.” He didn’t mean to make his voice harsh, but her flinch revealed he had. “I will come straight to the point. I happen to know that your mother is in excellent health, and that you did not go to visit her as you claimed. She has not seen you since early June.”

  “I … I …”

  “Let me help you out here and save us time. Rather than going home, you had an assignation with a lover. A man who gave you a lovely gift of a pair of silk cami-knickers for this self-same assignation. You spent the time with him, not beside your mother’s bed of pain. Am I right so far?”

  Florence’s knuckles were white. She gave the slightest of nods.

  “I take it that was a yes. Were you with your fiancé?”

  Florence shook her head.

  “I take it that was a no. Given the circumstances, I will have to ask for the name of the man you were with to confirm your story.”

  That got her head up in a hurry. “Oh, no, I can’t.”

  “Is he a married man?”

  “No. Not at all. I’d never …”

  “Screw a married man?”

  She turned red but didn’t reply.

  Tyler bared his teeth. “Oh, I get it. How could I be so crude? I do apologize, Miss Hancocks. This was a romantic interlude, not a sordid secret romp in the hay. You are in love with this man and he loves you, and as soon as you can extricate yourself from your engagement you will be married. Is that closer to the mark?”

  She was focused somewhere over his shoulder. “No. I have no intention of marrying … this man. I have a fiancé already. He is overseas.”

  “Is he now? You’re just sort of keeping in shape, are you, until he returns?”

  She was biting her lip to keep from crying.

  “So, this man that you’re not going to marry – does he know that, by the way, or is he under the illusion that all will be bliss eventually? Did you leave your ring behind?”

  “He’s quite aware we are not … we are not serious.”

  “That’s a relief. I don’t want another heartbroken man wandering around Shropshire.”

  Her eyes flicked. “What are you referring to?”

  “The Bible tells us to beware the woman scorned, but I think the male scorned is even more dangerous. I suppose I am in the way of warning you, Miss Hancocks. We men can carry strong feelings in our manly breasts that might not be apparent to the inexperienced eye.”

  “I assure you, Inspector, the man I was with knows how I feel. He prefers it that way.”

  Does he? thought Tyler. Or is it convenient for you to believe that?

  “Miss Hancocks, given the seriousness of this investigation, I will need to determine your whereabouts on Thursday morning. Were you with your boyfriend at this time?”

  To his surprise, Florence looked absolutely stricken, as if she was struggling with what was to her a calamity of huge proportions. She had difficulty speaking.

  “No, I was not with him. He … he left the previous night, Wednesday. I was alone.”

  “Did you have a quarrel?”

  “No, nothing like that. He had to get back. I didn’t; I thought I’d take advantage of the hotel and just sort of lounge around.”

  “Where were you?”

  “Market Drayton.”

  “That will be easy for me to check. But Market Drayton isn’t far at all if you have a car, which you do, do you not?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even if the hotel staff can vouch for the fact that you didn’t check out, who’s to say that you didn’t slip out without being seen? You could have been on the Heath Road in no time at all. Elsie was struck by a car before she was shot. I didn’t mention that, did I?”

  “Oh my God.” She shrank back in her chair. “Inspector Tyler, I swear to you, I had nothing to do with Elsie’s death. It’s unthinkable.”

  “Good. Then there won’t be any problem with you providing me with an alibi, will there? Shall I ring the hotel now? What was the name of it?”

  “The Royal.”

  “Oh yes, rather a tacky place as I recall. But nobody cares who comes or goes or who is wearing a wedding ring, so that more than compensates for rather dodgy sheets, doesn’t it? The staff makes a point of minding their own business. So if I were to ring they may not be able to tell me if you stayed there or when you left.”

  “No, they may not.” Her voice had dropped back to a whisper.

  “All right then, let’s go over this again. Your friend left you on Wednesday evening and you stayed on in the room until late on Thursday, just lounging around and buffing your nails, darning your stockings, that sort of thing. Sometime o
n Thursday evening, you left the hotel and came directly here to Beeton Manor, is that correct? Arriving about nine o’clock, which was when the rest of the girls returned.”

  “That’s right.”

  He got to his feet and walked over to her. “Miss Hancocks, may I remind you of one other little piece of this difficult puzzle. There is no doubt that the gun that killed Miss Bates was the same Luger that you had in your possession. The one your brother gave you when you joined the Land Army in case you were attacked by a squirrel or a Jerry parachutist. You said that gun disappeared from your room, but of course we only have your word for it.”

  She was holding on for dear life. “It was stolen. I was telling you the truth.”

  “Perhaps you were, but you’re hiding something. Are you protecting somebody?”

  “No.”

  “What is it then?” He spoke gently to her and she looked up at him, her eyes so full of misery, it was all he could do not to reach over and comfort her.

  “Oh Inspector, I have done one of the worst things of my entire life.” She buried her head in her hands and began to sob, cries that seemed as if they would tear her apart.

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “Lass, come on now. I’m for believing that you didn’t harm Elsie, but what is troubling you?”

  She still couldn’t speak, and he crouched down in front of her and offered his handkerchief. “Here, wipe your nose. That’s my girl.”

  She held the handkerchief to her face. “I wasn’t in the hotel on Thursday. I was in a hospital, I went in on Wednesday night. I was released the next evening.” She stopped trying to gain control over her sobs and he had to wait until she had quieted down.

  “And you are going to tell me why you were in hospital, aren’t you, Miss Hancocks?”

  “I have … er … have contracted a disease. I had to get some treatment.”

  “Is this disease a venereal one?”

  She nodded and whispered. “Gonorrhea.”

  That was a thump in the stomach. Tyler sat back.