The Blacksmith's Girl

by Rosemary Aitken

  Three

  Sergeant Jeffries hadn’t really meant to come this way, not so early in the afternoon, but there was no sign of Martha when he’d called there earlier. Not even any of her girls – only the sound of Toby hammering at the forge – so he decided to patrol the cliff road for an hour or so.

  And call in on Effie Dawes, of course. He hadn’t been there since the time he’d cut the weeds – not to visit, though he’d ridden past each evening on his rounds. But today he had some news for her, about that bicycle. She wouldn’t want it now, of course, but he’d heard of one for sale and that would give him an adequate excuse. He was dwelling on the prospect of a nice cup of tea, when from somewhere just ahead he heard a woman scream.

  It was hilly here, but he put his head down and pedalled full-speed up the rise. It made his heart thump and he could feel his face was turning red, but he battled on – he could always coast a little on the other side.

  But when he reached the corner he did not coast anywhere. The source of the disturbance was in the lane below – a man and woman were struggling in the ditch: he was lashing ineffectually at her ankles with a whip, while she was tussling with him, trying to protect a box – to the extent of biting at his other hand, which was attempting to tear it from her grasp.

  Will was still puffing like a steam engine, but he had sufficient wit to dismount the bike and sit astride the bar, gather himself up and blow a shrill blast on his police whistle. It worked. The scuffling figures leapt instantly apart, looked up towards him and the man cried, triumphantly, ‘Sergeant Jeffries! Now we’ll see what’s what!’

  Will got off entirely and wheeled his bicycle towards them down the hill, surprised to realize that he knew both of them: Verity Tregorran and that fellow Grey, whom he’d encountered at the dairy factory. He put on his most official face, propped the bike against the hedge, and walked over with his notebook in his hand.

  ‘Now then!’ He licked his pencil stub. ‘I am surprised at you two. Causing a disturbance on the public road. What’s this all about?’

  Both of them began to talk at once. Will held his hand up.

  ‘One thing at a time. Grey, you are the senior person here, let’s hear your side of things.’

  ‘I think we’ve caught our factory thief, at last. This girl was missing from the morning shift, and I caught her red-handed out here in the lane carrying a box of stolen goods – tins of milk – the very stuff that was reported missing yesterday. Swears she found it somewhere in a shed and was returning it, if you ever heard such lies – but she won’t get in the cart and fights like a tigress when I try to take it back.’

  Vee had tried to interrupt this several times, but Will ignored her. Now he turned to her. ‘Well, young lady, what have you to say?’

  She was scarlet-faced and angry, and clearly close to tears. ‘I’ve told him half a dozen times – I didn’t take the box. I found it in a shed – exactly like he said – and I was on my way to take it back where it belonged. And if you don’t believe me, you can ask that Mrs Dawes – it was her that found it really, I just happened to be there. It was her shed it was in. Well, her old pigsty really, but it’s used for storage now.’

  Will pushed his helmet back and scratched his head and even Grey had the grace to look surprised.

  In fact, the man had turned an embarrassed shade of puce. ‘So you are saying that there’s someone can vouch for you? Then how didn’t you say so, straight away?’ He turned from her to Will. ‘Even now, I wonder if it’s true. More likely that she led the woman to the box by accident – and then pretended that she didn’t know that it was there. And if she was so anxious to return the box, why did she refuse to hand it over when I asked for it? If was me she would have had to give it to, back at the factory – as the girl well knows.’

  ‘Is that true?’ Will said to Verity, and she nodded sullenly.

  ‘But it isn’t how he makes it sound at all!’ she protested, angrily. ‘If I gave him the box, I had no proof of anything I said. And he wouldn’t listen – just said I was a thief and I had been dismissed. Never got a chance to mention Mrs Dawes. Besides …’ She tailed off.

  ‘What?’ Will demanded, but she shook her head.

  ‘Something I’ve just thought of – though I can’t tell you now. And there’s something else as well. I might be wrong, but Mrs Dawes would know.’

  ‘Tell me and I’ll ask her,’ Will suggested with a smile.

  Another head-shake. ‘I’d sooner talk to Mrs Dawes myself. Could you take me back there? And Mr Grey as well? Soon find out the truth of all this then.’

  Grey was frowning. ‘I’m very sorry, Sergeant, I can’t agree to that. My absence will be holding up dispatch. They need my signature before the orders can go out.’

  Will nodded. ‘Yes, of course.’ The system was his own suggestion, after all. ‘But you could spare five minutes, surely? This won’t take more than that.’

  ‘Sergeant, these are urgent food supplies for our boys in the field. The factory’s humble contribution to the war effort. Goods won’t go out without me – and this girl has delayed me too much as it is. Take her with you by all means – she’s no longer a member of my staff in any case, unless and until her innocence is proved, I’ve made that clear to her. But you don’t have any reason for detaining me. I’m not the one who is accused of any crime.’

  The policeman nodded slowly. ‘I suppose you’re right. But if you wish to bring charges …?’

  ‘You’ll know where to find me. Though it may be better to let it go at just dismissing her. This’ll be in all the papers otherwise. Don’t want to bring the factory into disrepute.’

  ‘And if it’s proved that she is innocent?’

  Grey looked at Verity and shrugged. ‘I’d need to be convinced. I still think she knows more about this than she’d like us to believe. But in that case, I suppose we’d have to think again. Thank you, Sergeant Jeffries, I’ll take that parcel now.’

  Verity surprised them. ‘No! He can’t do that. It’s evidence. In more ways than you think. I’ll show you – when we get to Mrs Dawes.’

  Grey raised his eyebrows as if appealing to the skies but Will said, ‘Yes, perhaps the girl is right. If there are charges to be brought, this box is evidence.’ He could already see himself producing it in court, proudly labelled ‘Police Exhibit A’.

  Grey did not argue, but he was not pleased. He stumped off to his vehicle, untied the horse – which had been tethered to a tree – and disappeared so quickly that a cloud of dust arose. Will turned to Verity.

  ‘Coming with me of your own accord, for questioning? I’ll write that in the book. Saves me having to arrest you formally, on suspicion of a theft. Though ’tisn’t like you, being who you are, so I’m happy to see what Effie has to say. Mrs Dawes, as I should call her properly. Now let me have that box. I’ll balance it on the carrier and you can walk along with me.’

  Effie was even more surprised the second time, to see Verity Tregorran at her gate – though now the girl had Sergeant Jeffries in tow and it was Amy who hastened to the door. Effie finished her letter and signed it hastily, but by the time she’d heated sealing wax and sealed the envelope, the maid was at the doorway of the writing room.

  ‘That policeman to see you, madam, and that girl again. Says it’s official business and he needs to talk to you. I’ve put them in the parlour to wait while you come down. Should I bring a tea tray?’

  Effie shook her head. ‘Not for a moment, Amy. If he’s on duty, it’s not appropriate. I’d better deal with this. I’ll call if I need you.’ She went down into the room.

  Jeffries was standing by the fireplace with one hand behind his back, and the other cradling his helmet at his chest, while Verity Tregorran was sitting on the chair beside him, looking cowed.

  She looked up as Effie entered. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Dawes – I was afraid of this. They think I stole that box. From the factory, I mean.’

  Effie looked at Jeffries. ‘How totally absurd.
Didn’t she tell you that we found it in the shed?’

  ‘That’s what I told him, but he don’t believe a word – and Mr Grey’s now saying that I must have put it there.’

  Jeffries put his helmet down and got his notebook out. ‘Mrs Ethel Dawes? An Dyji cottage?’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Sergeant. Of course that’s who I am.’

  He ignored this. ‘Miss Verity Tregorran here has named you as a witness.’ He cleared his throat importantly. ‘She was found with a box of stolen goods in her possession, apparently taken from her place of work. She claims that she had merely found them and was returning them – and that you can corroborate the fact. I hardly like to ask you, but—’

  ‘Of course I will. I took her to the shed, simply to show her some tracks that I had found.’ She explained about the dust-marks and the stranger on the lane and the path that led to the shed across the field. ‘I felt that we had rather undervalued what she said, the first time she reported it. And then we found the box, and saw what it contained. I think it rather looks as if Verity was right, and that man was up to something all along. Not spying, or even smuggling in the usual sense – but procuring stolen milk-products, presumably to sell. I imagine someone’s making quite a profit out of it – he must have a supplier within the factory.’

  Will licked his pencil and scribbled furiously. ‘I see,’ he muttered gravely. ‘A serious matter that. “Black marketeering” they are calling it, and under DORA regulations, penalties are harsh. We’ll have to find the weak link in the factory, of course, but when we do, and if we catch these fellows out, would you be prepared to testify in court?’

  ‘Of course I would,’ Effie said quickly, trying not to imagine what the family would say. Uncle Joe had hated courts and policemen all his life – and Alex’s parents would think it most unladylike. ‘Though, as you say, you’ll have to find who’s stealing from the factory. That might not be easy.’

  ‘But I know who it is. At least I think I do.’ That was Verity. ‘It’s Mr Grey himself. I know it sounds preposterous, but once you think of it – of course it all makes sense. I saw him driving down the lane before the man appeared, towards Penvarris, which looked quite natural – but he must have stopped here to drop the parcel off.’

  Effie saw the point at once. ‘And when the man saw him further down the lane, he knew to pick it up? They would not have to communicate at all.’

  ‘Exactly. And the first time that I saw the stranger on the cliffs I was only there because I couldn’t speak to Mr Grey – he had gone out and wasn’t at the factory.’ She turned to Effie. ‘I told you at the time.’

  Effie nodded slowly. ‘I believe you did.’

  ‘I bet that they were doing something similar, back then. And then – that day I came to see you and was sent away – the man was here again, arguing with someone on the cliffs. I realized afterwards that it was Mr Grey – he had his pony-trap, and I thought he was angry cause he’d nearly had a spill. But when I think about it, it wasn’t that at all. Mr Grey was saying that they’d have to stop – because of the new security I expect – and that it was dangerous to be “careering on the cliffs” because other people used the lane – meaning that they were likely to be seen. And it did stop for a while – but it’s begun again.’

  ‘But Mr Grey’s a very senior man, and in a post of trust. Surely …?’

  ‘And he’s the one who has to double-sign the chits. So he has his hands on everything that leaves the factory.’

  Will Jeffries made a disbelieving sound. ‘But he only double-signs them. Someone else has got to witness it as well. How would he get round that? Sounds fanciful to me. And there’s not a shred of evidence, as far as I can see. Of course the man has business calls outside the factory – arranging contracts and taking money to the bank – the bosses know it and he makes no secret of the fact. And as for this business of the argument – even you thought it was about something different! It seems to me he’s been behaving entirely properly. You’re making something out of nothing – like you always do.’

  ‘Then how did he know what was in that cardboard box? Tins of milk, he told you – and that was right, of course. But how did he know it? It’s written on the inner box, but that was covered up – as you can see. And I didn’t tell him. He didn’t give me a chance. Soon as I realized that, I knew it must be him – or he knew more about it than he should have done. That’s how I wouldn’t let him have the box.’

  Effie looked at her with some surprise – and admiration, too. The girl had more intelligence than she had supposed.

  But Jeffries was scornful. ‘Just knew what had gone missing yesterday, I expect, and worked it out. Man like him would have his finger on the pulse. Guessing what was in it doesn’t prove a thing.’

  Verity was not abashed at this. ‘Maybe, but how did he know that it was hidden in a shed? He mentioned that as well – before I said a word. No amount of guessing could have told him that!’ She shook her head. ‘But of course he’d say I told him – it’s his word against mine. And who’d believe me? You don’t, even now! That’s why I wanted to talk to Mrs Dawes. She told me once her husband was keen on fingerprints. I wondered if there might be fingerprints to find.’

  Will Jeffries was stroking the ends of his moustache. ‘Hard to get them from a cardboard box. And – even if we could – it won’t prove anything. He would have handled the factory parcel when he signed it out, and I saw him with my own eyes tussling with you, so his prints will be all over the outer box as well.’ But he was taking this whole matter more seriously now, you could see that at once.

  Verity looked downcast. ‘Then what about the string? That wasn’t on the box when we were in the lane – and it must be round here somewhere. And – according to his story – he hasn’t handled that!’

  The Sergeant looked contemptuous. ‘We’re not magicians, Miss Tregorran. We are just the police. We can’t conjure fingerprints from little bits of string.’

  ‘But I wonder if Mr Grey knows that?’ Effie put in thoughtfully. ‘If you were to tell him that the police were collecting fingerprints – including from the string – and then ask him for his own, I wonder what he’d say? If he is guilty, that would frighten him, at least, and he might betray himself. Though, wait a minute!’ A sudden thought occurred to her. ‘What about the shed? He must have touched all sorts of things in there – and there might be boot prints in the dust, if we had thought to look.’

  Sergeant Jeffries nodded enthusiastically and puffed out his cheeks. Effie had seen him wear that look before – it meant that he was thinking of shining in his job. ‘Now that’s a different matter. There might be prints in there. If we can match them, it’s proof that Grey was there – and there is no reason why he should have been, except to leave that box.’

  Effie said sharply, ‘Quite the opposite in fact – he should not have been there and neither should his friend. Trespassers, the pair of them, and that would be the proof.’

  ‘Supposing that we find their prints, that is,’ the policeman said, lugubriously. Then he brightened. ‘Though that’s another point. If we could find the other fellow’s fingerprints as well, we’d have the both of them.’ He bestowed a smile on Verity. ‘Thank you, Miss Tregorran, a very good idea.’

  She shook her head. ‘But the thin man didn’t get there, I saw him go away. And if he learns from Mr Grey that the parcel isn’t there, he won’t come back again.’

  ‘Great Heavens, girl, you’re right. I’ll get over to the factory as fast as possible – make sure that Grey does not have an opportunity for sending messages. In fact I think I’ll take him in for questioning. I haven’t taken fingerprints from anywhere as yet, but – just as you suggested, Mrs Dawes – it might be helpful to let him think I have. In the meantime, you keep a watch out for the man.’

  ‘And what do you suggest we do if he comes back again? We’re only women and he might be dangerous,’ Effie said, with some asperity. ‘Certainly I don’t think we could keep him he
re, if he was determined to break free and run away. Though …’ she broke off.

  ‘Though?’ The Sergeant prompted.

  ‘You might just ask the farmer who owns the property. He’s a big fellow, and he’s got a gun. Uses it for rabbits – I know, he brought us one last week, help eke out the rations when my folk were here. More than a match for your suspect, I should think.’

  Jeffries nodded. ‘Another good idea.’ He gave her a patronizing smile. ‘Perhaps we could do with you ladies in the police – they’re starting to have them in London now, I hear. Well, I’ll call and ask your farmer. Can he watch from here? I would prefer it if he wasn’t stomping round the shed – just in case I do require to take some fingerprints, or boot-print casts, if that’s appropriate. But if I mean to catch up with Grey in time, I’d best be on my way.’

  Effie rang for Amy (who must have been listening at the door, she came in so quickly) and the policeman was escorted to the door. Effie turned to Verity. ‘Well, it seems that the police are listening to your concerns at last. At any minute we shall have the farmer here – I’ll take him upstairs to the writing room to watch. In the meantime, would you like some tea?’

  Nobody had ever offered tea like this before – outside the family, and that didn’t count – and Vee was not sure if it was proper to accept.

  But she said politely, ‘I could do with some. Truth is, Mrs Dawes, it’s been an awful day. Then I suppose I’d better run off home and see how Pattie is – seeing I haven’t got a job to go to any more.’

  And that would be more trouble, she thought bitterly. Doubtless Prudence would have turned up at the factory by now, but what would happen when Mr Grey got back? She would be thrown out on her ear, like Verity herself – so any moment now she’d be going home with the news. ‘Be all round the factory that I’m a thief, by now.’

  ‘I’m sure they’ll reinstate you,’ Mrs Dawes replied, ringing for the maid again and ordering the tray. ‘If you want to go back to work there, that is. I suppose you do? Might be a bit awkward if it comes to trial and you have to testify against a former boss.’