Strangeways to Oldham

by Andrea Frazer

  Beauchamp slowly exhaled, suddenly aware that he had been holding his breath, while awaiting Lady Amanda’s response to the policeman’s visit, and now chose to hold his peace. Hugo, however, spoke up. ‘Do you really think he’d do that sort of thing, Manda?’ he asked.

  ‘I expect he’d do that, and a lot more, if he could get away with three killings, scot free, and keep all the money he’s inherited, as a result of his murderous misdeeds,’ she answered. ‘You take my word for it – he’s out to scare us. Well, I don’t scare that easily, and I’m not giving up.’

  ‘Well, at least you can keep yourself out of mischief, tomorrow,’ declared Hugo. ‘We’re taking Enid Tweedie back to her own home. A good deed like that, after all the work we’ve done today, ought to keep you on the straight and narrow for at least a day, and by then, maybe you’ll have simmered down.

  A few minutes after Lady Amanda went up to her room that night, there was a piercing scream and Beauchamp appeared at the foot of the stairs as if by magic, mounting them as if the house was afire. Hugo made straight for the lift, and set it in painfully slow motion, towards the source of the scream. The lift might be slow, but Hugo was considerably slower, and was aware of this fact. This was his quickest route to his old friend’s aid.

  When he finally exited the little box and entered Lady Amanda’s room, he found her sitting on the stool at her dressing table, wringing her hands, and evidently distraught, Beauchamp standing by her side, waiting to see if there were anything he could fetch for her or do, to make her feel better.

  The bedclothes were pulled back, and on the bottom sheet, lay a sheet of paper, with letters cut from newsprint stuck on to it. Hugo approached the bed, and leaned down to read what was spelled out on the sheet of paper, being careful not to touch it. He read : You won’t hear or see me approach, but I shall destroy you with a flick of my finger.

  Beauchamp made his exit before Hugo could react. When he did, it was with horror. ‘Manda, this is a death threat! What are you going to do about it? He’s killed before, and nobody suspects him of anything. You have to take this to the police.’

  ‘What’s the point, Hugo? Inspector Moody already thinks I’m in the throes of Alzheimer’s, and won’t listen to a word I say. He probably thinks you’re in your dotage, too. And as for Beauchamp, he probably believes, and quite rightly so, in my opinion, that he would do anything within his power, to avoid trouble or scandal in The Family.’

  Hugo heard the capital letters, and responded, ‘You’re quite sure of that, are you?’

  ‘Definitely! Beauchamp will be loyal to the end, whether that be my end, or his.’

  The speaking of his name appeared to conjure Beauchamp up out of the ether, and he returned to the room with a plastic bag and a pair of silver sugar-nips in his hands. ‘I’ll just deal with this, my lady, then you can get into bed, and get some rest, after all the physical work you have undertaken today. You must be very tired.’

  ‘Thank you, Beauchamp. It’s most thoughtful of you to think of preserving the evidence,’ Lady Amanda praised him.

  Very quietly; even softer than a whisper, came the words, ‘That’s Beecham!’

  Chapter Fifteen

  The following morning dawned bright and sunny, but with a stiffening breeze that promised less fair weather later in the day. Beauchamp was up and at his duties at his normal hour, but once again Lady Amanda and Hugo were late to rise.

  Lady Amanda had had difficulty sleeping, and so had turned to one of her favourite Conan Doyle books, reading into the small hours, before she finally turned out her light. Hugo had sought no such consolation and calm in books, for that was not his way, and tossed and turned, suffering from nightmares, when he finally dropped off to sleep, about five o’clock.

  Both of them looked tired and drawn, when they met for breakfast, and neither of them had much appetite. So concerned was Beauchamp, that he was moved to speech. ‘You need to eat. You’ve got a busy day ahead of you, moving Mrs Tweedie out of the nursing home and back into her own house, and no doubt she’ll need some shopping done. How are you going to achieve that, if you don’t have a bite inside yourselves?’ he asked, with concern.

  Lady Amanda was so surprised by this unprecedented show of interest in her well-being, that she was moved to speech. ‘Thank you for your concern, Beauchamp. What you say is good advice, and I think we both had better act on it. Come on, Hugo! That’s a lovely kipper you’ve got in front of you. Don’t let it go to waste. How are you ever going to get the machine to work, if you have no fuel in the engine? That reminds me, you haven’t had the opportunity to have a proper ride on that motorised tricycle, yet, have you? We’ll have to get that organised tout de suite.’

  Hugo, suddenly becoming aware that his personal safety was to be put at risk again, responded with, ‘No fear, Manda! You’ll not get me on that devil’s contraption while I’m feeling like this.’

  ‘Then get that kipper down your neck, and have some toast and marmalade. Beauchamp’s put your favourite thick-cut lemon out for you. We’ve got a job of work to do today and I need you on tip-top form.’

  Enid needed to vacate her room at The Birdlings by noon, and thus they set off about eleven o’clock, with a picnic lunch in the boot of the Rolls, so that they should not have to go shopping, until after they’d broken bread with her.

  Hugo had eventually given in and eaten a fairly substantial breakfast, feeling much better for his effort. He was quite looking forward to seeing Enid’s face, when she saw her clean and tidy (not to mention fresh-smelling) home on her return.

  Both of them were silent on the drive into Belchester, each of them lost in thought, going over what had happened, not only in the last couple of days, but in the ten days since Lady Amanda had appeared so unexpectedly and abruptly in Hugo’s life, and whisked him off to a completely different existence.

  Hugo was not sure what he thought about this rapid change in his circumstances. While he was extremely grateful to be released from his former misery in the home, he was not sure how he felt about the added excitement that Lady Amanda had introduced into his formerly dull existence. He thought he quite liked it, but finally decided not to make up his mind, until time had proved that neither of them were about to be set upon by Mr Derek Foster.

  Lady Amanda was having similar thoughts. She was getting used to having Hugo around, but it made a huge difference to her normal behaviour. The excitement, she definitely liked. She assumed that time would provide familiarity with Hugo’s constant presence. Whatever happened, at least he had livened her up a bit. What a bit of luck it had been, there being a murder, just when the two of them were reunited, after so many years. Well, not so lucky for poor old Reggie, but it had certainly provided something for them to get their teeth into.

  Beauchamp, although one may not have thought so, also had his own opinion on the past ten days. He hadn’t seen Lady Amanda so animated for a long time, and she certainly seemed brighter since Mr Cholmondley-Crichton-Crump had come to stay. Whether this was because of the murder, or because of Hugo’s company, he could not be sure, but he hoped that she would continue to be so animated, and not come to any harm from this situation in which she had involved them all.

  Enid Tweedie had her suitcase packed and was sitting on the bed in the room she had occupied for the last week, waiting for them. She looked healthy and happy; hardly recognisable as the Enid Lady Amanda had known for so long.

  ‘Oh, Lady Amanda!’ she exclaimed as Lady A and Hugo entered the room. ‘I’ve had such a lovely time here, and made so many new friends. I can’t thank you enough for your generosity. I feel like a new woman!’

  ‘You look like one, too. I’ve never seen your cheeks so rosy, and I do believe you’ve put on a little bit of weight,’ observed Lady Amanda.

  ‘And it’s all thanks to you!’ the soon-to- be ex-inmate enthused. ‘I shall have so much more energy when I get home. I shall be round that house like an electric eel.’

  As Hugo
gallantly hefted her suitcase, there was a discreet knock at the door, and Nurse Plunkett entered, with another couple of members of staff. ‘We’re really going to miss you, Enid,’ Nurse Plunkett declared, with tears forming in her eyes. ‘You’ve been the life and soul of this place, with all those hilarious tales about your family. We’re going to miss you terribly.’

  This sentiment was echoed by the other two who had accompanied her, and even Matron made an appearance at the door, to pay her fond farewells. ‘Such a surprise to find out what a charming friend you have in Enid,’ she declared, still at daggers drawn with Lady Amanda, but delighted with her now-departing patient.

  ‘Do come in to visit us sometime, won’t you?’ pleaded one of the other nurses, and received a beaming smile from Enid, in return.

  ‘Of course I will, my dear. It will be my pleasure!’

  ‘Come along, Enid!’ exhorted Lady Amanda, thoroughly fed-up with all this sloppy sentiment, with Enid Tweedie, of all people, at its centre. She’d always found the woman dull beyond belief, and found it hard to believe her to be a fount of humorous stories and anecdotes. Lady Amanda didn’t realise it, but sometimes she was jealous of other people’s popularity.

  The six people from the room made a gay parade as they passed down the corridor towards the exit, and Lady Amanda wouldn’t have been surprised if someone had produced a tambourine, and encouraged them all to skip along and dance. Who would have thought that drab little Enid Tweedie could be cast as a ‘Pied Piper’ character?

  The Rolls drew up in front of Enid’s tiny house, nearly as long as the house was broad, its very presence turning the house into the image of a veritable playhouse for children.

  As Beauchamp collected her luggage from the boot, Lady Amanda and Hugo accompanied her to the front door, waiting for her to unlock it and see the wonders they had wrought within, especially for her homecoming.

  Stepping inside, straight into the living room, there being no space to accommodate an entrance hall, Enid looked around her with tears in her eyes, and said, ‘Home, sweet home. There’s nowhere like it. And just as I left it when I went into hospital.’

  ‘Not quite!’ boomed Lady Amanda’s voice. ‘We three spent all day yesterday giving it a good “bottoming”. Can’t you see the difference? Can you not smell the difference?’

  Enid stood for a moment in thought. ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘I can see you’ve been round with a duster. That was very kind of you, but there’s a terrible aroma of cheap scent in here. I wonder where it’s come from.’

  Lady Amanda rolled her eyes, but stilled her mouth, as both Beauchamp and Hugo gave her the most ferocious glares. Some saints, she thought, would go ever unrewarded, their works unrecognised by those who couldn’t see beyond the ends of their noses.

  ‘We’ve brought a picnic lunch,’ she informed Enid, ‘then we can make a shopping list and get you in some supplies. What about your mother?’

  ‘Mother’s staying where she is!’ Enid declared. They’ve got a big colour telly there, and my sister says her cigar smoke keeps her husband out from under her feet. She says she hasn’t had such a peaceful life since before she got married. That only leaves my Oscar to be accounted for.’

  ‘That mangy old cat of yours?’ enquired Lady Amanda, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

  Here, Beauchamp spoke up. ‘Before I brought in the luggage, a lady from the house next door attracted my attention, and informed me that the cat had taken up residence with her, since its owner was away in hospital so much,’ he informed them.

  ‘Well, with that smelly old witch of a mother of yours decamped, and that stinking old cat of yours peeing on someone else’s furniture for a change, life should take a turn for the better for you, Enid,’ Lady Amanda offered, judge and jury on the new circumstances in which Enid found herself.

  ‘But what shall I do all day, without Mother and Oscar?’ she wailed.

  ‘Get yourself a life, woman!’ Lady Amanda advised her. ‘You’ll have time for all those things you said you always wanted to do – join the WI, do a cookery course, learn to embroider … There are heaps of things you’ve mentioned to me, in the past, that you simply didn’t have time for, and longed to do.’

  ‘I did, didn’t I?’ replied Enid. ‘And you’re right! I shall start right away.’

  ‘Just don’t forget you’re due up at The Towers on Friday for the ‘heavy’, as always.’

  ‘Of course I won’t. I love working in such a wonderful old home, and I shall be there on the dot of nine. But it won’t be the same.’

  ‘Won’t be the same as what?’ asked Lady Amanda, not quite catching Enid’s line of thought.

  ‘I shan’t be an undercover agent any more. I found that very exciting.’

  ‘Well, you never know. You might get to do it again, sometime in the future.’

  ‘I do hope so. You lead such an exciting life.’

  ‘And so shall you now, Enid, my dear,’ Lady Amanda assured her, ‘now you’ve got a bit of freedom back.’

  ‘Yes, I expect I shall. Thank you all, for what you’ve done for me.’

  That evening, after a good slug of Strangeways to Oldham, Lady Amanda returned to the subject that had been waiting to infect her mind since the day before. ‘I need to get into that chap Foster’s home,’ she declared, apropos of nothing.

  ‘You can’t be serious, Manda! Have you forgotten already, that beastly note he left in your bed last night?’ asked Hugo, aghast at her bold intention. ‘He’s already threatened your life, and now you plan to go right into the lion’s den?’ He could hardly believe his ears.

  At that moment the telephone rang, and they could hear Beauchamp answer it in the hall. The instrument seemed to be giving him some trouble, as they could hear him say, ‘Hello. Hello. Is there anybody there?’ a bit like a quack medium at the end of the pier in a seaside resort.

  There was a discreet clatter, as he replaced the receiver of the old-fashioned telephone back in its cradle, and he entered the room to inform them, ‘Must have been a wrong number, my lady. There was no one on the other end of the line.’

  The phone rang again, and Beauchamp left the room with unhurried steps, to answer it again.

  The result was the same as before, and Beauchamp gave it as his solemn opinion that there was something wrong with the line. After all, the wind was getting up, and it seemed that they were in for some stormy weather, in the very near future.

  ‘You’re no doubt correct, Beauchamp. A line down, or something. Nothing to bother us, though. If anyone really wants to get in touch, they’ll leave it until they can get through properly,’ decided Lady Amanda, returning to her abandoned conversation with Hugo.

  ‘There must be some evidence in that house that I could give to Inspector Moody, to make him take me seriously,’ she declared, spearing Hugo with a gaze that dared him to disagree.

  ‘What do you expect to find, Manda? A recipe book with Strangeways to Oldham marked, and ‘poison’ added to the list of ingredients? He’s not that stupid. He’s been clever enough, so far. Why should he give himself away with something stupid like that?

  ‘He’s got your number, Manda, and he’s let you know that he knows that you know – blast! That sounded like a riddle, but you know what I mean. You need to face the fact that the man’s dangerous, and wouldn’t hesitate to make you his next victim.’

  ‘Tosh! He’s an amateur!’

  ‘I beg to differ. It’s you who are the amateur. He’s killed three people. I consider, personally, that that gives him professional status; especially as no one but we two suspect him of any wrongdoing whatsoever.’

  The telephone rang again, a further interruption to this, now heated, discussion and, knowing that Beauchamp was in the kitchen preparing dinner, Lady Amanda rose to answer it. Lifting the receiver to her ear, she intoned the number and waited for a reply, but there was nothing but silence on the line. No, hang on a minute! She could just discern the soft susurration of breathing.

&nb
sp; ‘Hello. Hello. Who is this?’ she asked, her voice rising with impatience.

  ‘Gonna get you!’ The words were barely louder than a breath, but she was sure she heard them, before the connection was broken by whoever was at the other end of the line.

  Dropping the handset in her surprise, she called for Hugo, and stood stock still with shock, waiting for her mind to tell her she had imagined it, but it stubbornly refused to try to persuade her that this was the case.

  ‘Whatever’s the matter?’ asked Hugo solicitously, as he tottered out of the drawing room.

  ‘There was someone on the phone,’ she announced starkly.

  ‘There usually is, when it rings,’ offered Hugo, with maddening logic.

  ‘I think it was him!’ She spoke quietly, as if she suspected that they were being eavesdropped on by some unidentified presence.

  ‘Him who?’ asked Hugo, ungrammatically.

  ‘Him! Foster!’ Lady Amanda replied, in an urgent whisper.

  ‘What did he say?’ Hugo continued with his maddeningly calm enquiries.

  ‘He just said, “Gonna get you,” but it was barely a whisper. I could hear him breathing down the phone, then he said that, and it was so quiet, that for a moment, I thought I’d imagined it. But I didn’t Hugo, I really didn’t!’

  ‘There, there, old girl,’ Hugo soothed, putting his arm around her shoulder in an uncharacteristically affectionate manner. ‘We’ll let Beauchamp know, at dinner, what’s happened, and he can make sure that the house is locked up as tight as a drum tonight – keep us all safe till the morning. Everything always looks better in daylight, don’t you think?’

  Beauchamp locked every door and window, as soon as he was informed of the incident that had so unsettled Lady Amanda, and suggested that they contact the police in the morning. ‘After all, my lady, even if he doesn’t intend to carry events any further, he is, at the very least, conducting a campaign of terror against you, and he needs to be stopped, before things get out of hand.’