Missing Person

by Mary Jane Staples

  ‘Daddy, we’ve all got to stay,’ said Rosie.

  ‘Then we’ve got to think about staying for the night,’ said Boots, ‘as well as having something to eat, if anyone feels like a meal.’

  ‘I can share a room with Nana,’ said Rosie.

  ‘Let me help a little,’ said Polly, ‘let me make a provisional booking of rooms with reception.’

  ‘Go ahead, Polly,’ said Boots, ‘and a little later I’ll ring Emily and Sammy to put them in the picture about developments and arrangements.’

  ‘I couldn’t eat much,’ said Chinese Lady, ‘but it might be sensible to have a bit of dinner here. It’ll help to pass the time till Captain Arnold comes back and we can talk to him.’

  Other people entered the lounge as Polly came to her feet.

  ‘Book the rooms definitely, Polly,’ said Boots, ‘and we’ll use them. I don’t think we’ll want to sit here all evening.’

  ‘I’ll ask about dinner as well,’ said Polly.

  ‘What about school if we stay all night?’ asked Rosie.

  ‘Well, for once, Rosie old thing, rats to school,’ said Polly, and went to reception, where the first thing that happened was to be mistaken by Miss Jordan for Boots’s wife. Miss Jordan, in fact, addressed her as Mrs Adams. The imps of devilment brought a gleam to Polly’s eyes, and had it not been for the prevailing circumstances she wouldn’t have thought twice about booking a double room for herself and Boots. As it was, the imps had to be resisted.

  Chapter Fifteen

  TILLY HAD HAD a totally peaceful day. Cassie had taken care of Bubbles and Penny-Farving, giving them their usual outing, and a little after one their father had come home from work and taken them back with him. That made the afternoon particularly quiet, for not a sound disturbed the house. The adjacent house was just as quiet, the blind up at the facing window.

  All the same, Tilly felt on edge, suspecting the quietness was like calm before a storm. She heard Dan Rogers arrive home with the girls, and she began to wait then for him to mount one of his usual cheerful invasions of her lodgings. Well, it was obvious he wouldn’t want to come home every day to take the girls back to his works and into the charge of that canteen lady, and she didn’t think the woman would agree to the arrangement for more than a short time. Not more than a week, thought Tilly, by which time he’d be hoping Alice Higgins would be back on her feet. But he’d be looking for some options.

  However, no invasion took place, and Tilly was left alone to prepare her supper and eat it without suffering exasperation or umbrage.

  ‘Freddy,’ said Cassie, talking to him at the gate of his house a little after eight, ‘I was thinkin’ that with the money I’m earnin’ lookin’ after Bubbles and Penny-Farvin’ in the mornings, I could buy another parrot.’

  ‘Cassie, if I thought another parrot would stop you tryin’ to send me potty, I’d ’elp you buy six more,’ said Freddy.

  ‘I don’t want six more, you silly,’ said Cassie, ‘just one, that’s all. He’ll be company for Cecil, and ’elp him to talk more.’

  ‘I’ll ’ave to profess me profound ignorance about what makes parrots tick,’ said Freddy, ‘but—’

  ‘Freddy, what makes you talk like that?’ asked Cassie.

  ‘Me brother-in-law, Sammy Adams.’

  ‘Crikey,’ said Cassie, ‘I don’t mind meself, but don’t talk like it when you go down the market or someone’ll chuck rotten cabbages at you.’

  ‘No-one ever did that to Sammy,’ said Freddy. ‘Anyway, despite me profound ignorance, I’ve ’eard that if you put two parrots in a cage together they’ll knock ’oles in each other.’

  ‘Course they won’t,’ said Cassie. ‘Will they?’ she asked uncertainly.

  ‘So I ’eard,’ said Freddy.

  ‘You sure, Freddy? Cats fight, but you sure parrots do?’

  ‘So I ’eard,’ said Freddy.

  ‘Don’t keep sayin’ so you ’eard,’ said Cassie. ‘I had an uncle once who was always sayin’ it, and one day me Aunt Priscilla, that was married to ’im, hit ’im with a long wooden box full of old ’orseshoes. Well, she was past patience, like they say.’

  ‘Then what?’ said Freddy.

  ‘I think me dad said the funeral was on a Friday.’

  ‘Is that a fact?’ said Freddy.

  ‘Yes, so I ’eard,’ said Cassie, and giggled. ‘Freddy, let’s go and ask Mrs ’Arper if parrots fight when you put two together. I bet she’ll know. Or she might let us ask Percy ’imself.’

  ‘You go, I’ll stay ’ere,’ said Freddy.

  ‘Freddy, I don’t know why you’re so contrary,’ said Cassie.

  ‘It’s in’erited,’ said Freddy.

  ‘Well, take some medicine, then.’

  ‘All right, there’s some indoors,’ said Freddy, but he might have known he wouldn’t get away with that. He landed on Mrs Harper’s doorstep with his insistent mate, muttering, ‘What’s the use?’

  Cassie knocked. There was no answer. She knocked again. Still no answer.

  ‘Oh, ain’t that a disappointment, Freddy? They’re all out.’

  ‘I can’t say me disappointment is bitter, Cassie. Like me to take yer for some fish and chips?’

  ‘Freddy, we could use the latchcord and go in,’ said Cassie. ‘Mrs ’Arper might like us to, in case Percy’s gone a bit sick from bein’ alone.’

  ‘Cassie, you can’t go in,’ said Freddy.

  ‘Course we can,’ said Cassie. It was a reasonable comment because most Walworth people didn’t think anything of going into a neighbour’s house to see if everything was all right and if anything new had been bought lately.

  ‘No, we can’t,’ said Freddy, ‘there’s no latchcord.’

  ‘Crikey, nor there isn’t,’ said Cassie, ‘what a swizz. Oh, did yer mention fish and chips?’

  ‘Yes, like a treat, would yer?’ said Freddy. ‘Come on, then.’

  Going with him, Cassie said, ‘Are yer treatin’ me because you like me, Freddy?’

  ‘No, because you’re me mate,’ said Freddy.

  * * *

  Dinner had been eaten in the grand-looking hotel restaurant. Chinese Lady had only pecked at the excellent food, Rosie had eaten fairly well, and Polly and Boots had dined modestly. Their table conversation had been inhibited by what was on their minds, the mystery of Chinese Lady’s missing husband. Now they were in the room that she and Rosie were to use for the night. It was close to nine-thirty. Boots had phoned Emily and Sammy to let them know what was happening. Sammy said it made sense to stay overnight if Boots was sure that the military bloke, Captain Arnold, was worth a confab. It will be worth it, said Boots, if he saw who was in the car that passed him. Only if he noticed that our stepdad was in it, said Sammy. Emily said staying overnight made her suspicious of what Polly Simms might get up to. Boots said he wasn’t sure if any of them were in the mood to get up to anything, but that if Polly took a fancy to Captain Arnold, well, she was a grown woman and there’d be nothing he himself could do about it. I don’t mean this Captain Arnold, said Emily. Anyway, she said, you’ve got to keep your mind on your stepdad.

  Boots had had coffee and brandy brought up for Chinese Lady, Polly and himself, and coffee for Rosie. Chinese Lady said brandy on top of port wasn’t what she was used to. Boots said the brandy’s medicinal. I don’t need any medicine, said Chinese Lady, I need to find Edwin, and Lord only knows where he is by now.

  ‘Daddy, d’you think Captain Arnold might be out all night?’ asked Rosie.

  ‘That depends on the company he’s keeping,’ said Polly.

  ‘I hope he’s not that kind of gentleman,’ said Chinese Lady.

  ‘Not every gentleman is quite like Boots,’ said Polly, which could have been interpreted as an oblique reference to his strict but exasperating adherence to his marriage vows. Polly regarded that not only as exasperating but ridiculous as well.

  ‘Well, I have tried to bring all my sons up with a sense of proper behaviour,’ said Chi
nese Lady.

  ‘Oh, they’re all very proper, Nana,’ said Rosie. ‘Daddy, suppose Captain Arnold didn’t notice who was in that car, and even if he did, suppose Grandpa wasn’t in it?’

  ‘Yes, and what I want to know,’ said Chinese Lady, ‘is why should he have been? He wouldn’t have got into anyone’s car and let them drive him off when he knew he was waitin’ for me.’

  ‘I grant you it’s a mystery, old lady,’ said Boots.

  ‘Stop callin’ me old lady.’

  ‘Let’s wait in hope that Captain Arnold can help us,’ said Boots.

  There was no option but to do just that, and in an atmosphere that was strained and fidgety, although Polly thought Boots hid all his anxieties under a cloak of calm reassurance that at least kept his mother from biting her nails.

  Someone knocked.

  ‘Come in,’ called Rosie hopefully, and Miss Jordan appeared.

  ‘I’m really sorry for all this trouble you’re having,’ she said, ‘and I’d like to mention two things. First, the manager suggests you might like him to call in the Farnham police.’

  ‘No, not yet,’ said Boots. He was against the suggestion. He knew that the one authority likely to take an exceptional interest in the matter was a certain Government department in Whitehall.

  ‘Very well, Mr Adams,’ said Miss Jordan. ‘Second, you’ve no overnight belongings. I can find nightwear for all of you, if you’d like.’

  ‘Oh, that we would like,’ said Rosie. ‘Something borrowed for us ladies, something blue for Daddy.’

  ‘Of course,’ smiled Miss Jordan, ‘and it will all be fresh and clean. Mr Adams, is there anything else we can do for you?’

  ‘Only to let us know as soon as Captain Arnold gets back from Guildford,’ said Boots.

  ‘Yes, I’ve arranged that with my relief,’ said Miss Jordan.

  ‘Well, you’re a treasure,’ said Boots.

  I’ll kill him, thought Polly, he’ll have that young lady turning cartwheels for him before the night’s out.

  Bubbles and Penny-Farving were in bed and sound asleep. Dan looked in on them at ten o’clock, saw two young heads resting on the pillows and tucked the bedclothes cosily around their shoulders. Then he knocked on Tilly’s door.

  ‘I ain’t at ’ome to visitors,’ called Tilly.

  ‘If I could have a few words?’ said Dan.

  ‘Push off,’ said Tilly. ‘Oh, all right, what few words?’ She opened the door. Her gas mantle had just been lighted, and her hair looked soft against the glow. But her eyes were challenging.

  ‘I just thought I’d let you know I sent a letter to Elvira—’

  ‘Gladys.’

  ‘She never answers to Gladys.’

  ‘She’s off her chump,’ said Tilly.

  ‘I wrote to ask her if she’d marry me for the sake of the girls,’ said Dan, ‘and to let it go at that. I felt it ’ud be useless askin’ her to come and live with us. She’ll never desert her tightrope.’

  ‘She will eventu’lly,’ said Tilly, ‘old age will make her fall off it.’

  ‘Well, we’ll all manage somehow until old age makes her a bit mellow,’ said Dan.

  ‘Who’s all of you?’ asked Tilly.

  ‘Me and the girls,’ said Dan.

  ‘You’re crazy, you’ll never bring them gels up without havin’ someone to mother them. All you’re doin’ is bringing different faces into their lives. They won’t ever know who they belong to, and even when Alice ’Iggins starts lookin’ after them again, you don’t suppose she’ll be out of work for ever, do you? She’s bound to get a job sometime.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve been thinkin’ about that,’ said Dan, a manly figure of cheerful, rugged optimism. ‘Would it be too personal to ask what your av’rage earnings are for dressmakin’?’

  ‘Yes, it would be too personal,’ said Tilly.

  ‘Still,’ said Dan, ‘that needn’t stop me sayin’ I’d be willin’ to pay you seventeen-and-six a week if you’d care to look after me girls all the time I’m at work. My job’s sound and permanent, and I could find seventeen-and-six for—’

  ‘I can’t believe me own ears,’ said Tilly. ‘So that’s your game, is it? Turnin’ me into your paid ’elp?’

  ‘I’d include all your food,’ said Dan.

  ‘Mr Rogers, I’m naturally a kind and nice-tempered person—’

  ‘Yes, you are sometimes,’ said Dan, ‘and I won’t say you aren’t.’

  ‘Sometimes? What d’you mean, sometimes?’

  ‘Well, there’s that ruddy bolster,’ said Dan.

  ‘You weakling,’ said Tilly, ‘are you complainin’ about one or two little taps?’

  ‘No, just mentionin’ them,’ said Dan. ‘Anyway, how about me proposition? Tell you what, I’ll make it a quid a week. Like you said, Tilly, me girls need a bit of motherin’ by someone who’ll be around every day, and you’ll probably still be able to do some dressmakin’.’

  ‘I don’t know I ever met anyone with more nerve than you’ve got, and why I’m standing ’ere—’

  ‘Bubbles and Penny-Farvin’ like you,’ said Dan.

  ‘That’s it, come the old acid,’ said Tilly.

  ‘And I like you meself,’ said Dan. ‘Also, I meant it when I said you’d look even better in tights than Elvira.’

  ‘Where’s me fireside poker?’ said Tilly.

  ‘Tilly, I hope you ain’t goin’ to forget you’re a lady again,’ said Dan.

  ‘It’s because I’m a lady that I’m goin’ to poke your eyes out,’ said Tilly. ‘Ladies don’t invite blokes with evil eyes to gawp at their legs.’

  ‘On me honour, it was accidental,’ said Dan. ‘I had no idea you hadn’t finished dressin’.’

  ‘Yes, you did, you ’ad a very good idea,’ said Tilly. ‘Just stay where you are, Mr Rogers, while I pick up me poker.’

  ‘Ruddy hell,’ said Dan, and beat a retreat. Tilly closed the door and sat down at her sewing-machine. For some reason she wanted to laugh. That cheerful Charlie, what a joker.

  The June night was dark now. She sat in the bright glow of the gas mantle. The window opposite hers was a blankness, and nor was there any light in the kitchen below. She wouldn’t be surprised if the people there were all out at the pub. Mrs Harper liked a drop all right, and her husband and brother-in-law probably did too.

  Tilly did a thirty-minute stint on her machine before going to bed.

  Mr Finch came to, for the second time. On the first occasion, he had been rendered unconscious again. His head was a fiery ache. The chopping blow had been ferociously efficient.

  He was on a bed, a large piece of sticking-plaster over his mouth. He was handcuffed, and there was a padlocked chain around his ankles. The light was on, gaslight.

  He had come out of the hotel and walked to his car to wait for his wife. A man and a woman got out of a car parked opposite his. The woman had a map in her hand, and she and her companion spread it over the bonnet of the car. She called to Mr Finch.

  ‘I say, old chap, could you help us?’

  Mr Finch went across.

  ‘What kind of help do you want?’ he asked.

  ‘We’re looking for a little place called Upper Hale, south of Farnham, but it doesn’t seem to be on the map.’

  ‘It’s north of Farnham,’ said Mr Finch, and the man moved aside to let him point it out on the map. It was then that the first blow was dealt, a vicious chop to the back of his neck. He blacked out. He was in the car when he first came to, and dusk had arrived. The car was travelling, the man next to him on the back seat, a second man driving, and the woman in the passenger seat. Weakly, Mr Finch lifted his head and attempted to say something. A hand turned him, and the second blow arrived. He blacked out again.

  ‘What luck,’ the chopper had said after the car had been driven away from the hotel.

  ‘The luck of the righteous,’ said the driver, and laughed. ‘To have seen him when we had merely come to look things over, and then to have heard him st
ate his destination.’

  ‘You could say it was the luck of the righteous,’ said the woman.

  ‘What else?’ said the chopper. ‘It stayed with us, he came out of the hotel alone while we were wondering what to do about his wife.’

  ‘What a chase,’ said the driver, ‘first to Farnham, then to the hotel.’

  ‘I had a satisfying feeling the day was marked out in our favour,’ said the chopper.

  ‘The day’s not over yet,’ said the woman, ‘we have to get him safely into hiding.’

  ‘That means not until it’s dark, not until it’s late enough for London to be asleep,’ said the chopper.

  ‘London never sleeps, don’t you know that?’ said the woman.

  ‘We shall take no risks,’ said the driver, ‘not after fortune has favoured us.’

  ‘God bless the righteous,’ said the woman.

  The conversation was in German.

  ‘You are awake?’ The man who had felled Mr Finch was standing beside the bed. Mr Finch turned his aching head. With an effort, his eyes examined the room. It had an old familiarity about it. He had lodged for several years in just such a room, and in a house rented by Mrs Maisie Adams, a woman of resilience, who was always striving to rise above poverty. ‘You are awake?’ The question came again, and Mr Finch looked up at the man, tall and self-assured.

  With sticking-plaster over my mouth, he thought, I’m expected to answer?

  He could nod, of course. So he did.

  ‘I telephoned you not long ago,’ said the man. ‘Do you remember? I asked if you were Edwin Finch, formerly Paul Strasser of Frankfurt-on-the-Maine.’

  Mr Finch’s eyes flickered.

  ‘Do you remember?’

  Mr Finch nodded again.

  ‘Good. There are other things we want you to remember. However, it’s late, so we shall put you to sleep and begin talking to you tomorrow. But first, perhaps, you would like to use the toilet.’

  Mr Finch nodded yet again. If he was in need of one other concession, it was the removal of the plaster.

  ‘Very well. We are going to free your mouth and take off the handcuffs and chains, but if you give us any trouble we shall gag you again and probably break your right arm. Do you understand?’