‘Lady Kingdom has just told me that…but…but your husband should have been home ages ago. He had a very early dinner. It was over by…Oh well, I’m not quite sure, about half-past eight, perhaps quarter to nine. I left him in the foyer talking to Mr Ramshaw and Mr Pilby.’
‘Are…are they Newcastle men?’
‘I…I think so. Yes, I think they both live in Newcastle. Look…what time is it now?’ He paused. ‘Twenty minutes to twelve. What I should do first of all is ring the police and see if there’s been an accident.’
‘But they would have let me know surely; he always carries papers on him.’
‘Yes, yes, that’s right. But nevertheless I would do that. Then perhaps you could ring me back when there’s any more news.’
‘Yes. Yes, I’ll do that.’
Her hand was shaking visibly as she phoned the police station.
‘Has there been any…any accidents on the road from Newcastle this evening?’
‘No, madam; not that I know of. Who’s speaking?’
‘Mrs Bailey. My…my husband hasn’t come home, and it’s just on twelve o’clock. He’s the builder, and he went to a dinner, but he said he’d be back about ten.’
‘Ah, Mrs Bailey. Yes, I know Mr Bailey. I shouldn’t worry; he’ll turn up. Would he have gone on to another function?’
‘My husband would have phoned me, officer, if he had been going on to a further function.’
‘He would?’
The question seemed to say, Well you’re a lucky woman, and she answered it as if she had heard it: ‘Yes, he would. He’s that kind of man.’
‘Yes, all right. All right. What is your address, Mrs Bailey?’
She gave him the address. Then he said, ‘Well, there’s bound to be a patrol car somewhere near. I’ll get in touch with them right away and they’ll give you a call.’
‘Thank you.’ She put down the phone. Celebrating indeed. Bill would never celebrate without her if he could help it.
It seemed to her that she had been walking the floor for at least half an hour before the bell rang; but the clock told her it was only five minutes past twelve. When she opened the door there were two policemen standing on the step.
‘Mrs Bailey?’
‘Yes.’
‘About your husband.’
‘Yes. He…he hasn’t returned home. It’s very unusual and…’
‘May we come in, Mrs Bailey?’
‘Of course, yes, yes.’
They passed her and stood in the hall; and then the taller one said, ‘I am Constable Anderson and this is Constable Burrows. What make of car does your husband drive?’
‘It’s a grey Volvo.’
‘And can you remember the number?’
‘Oh.’ She looked from one to the other, then round the hall, before she said, ‘I’m dreadful on numbers. It starts with a JR.’
‘That’s all right. That’s all right.’ The police constables looked at each other, and then one said, ‘Sit down, Mrs Bailey.’
‘Why should I sit down? Look, please tell me what’s happened or what you know.’
‘Mrs Bailey, your husband’s car is outside on the road.’
‘It’s on the …!’
‘Yes, it’s on the road. But your husband isn’t in it, and I’m afraid, there is evidence of something very wrong. It isn’t locked, the ignition key’s still there, and parcels that were presumably on the front passenger seat are trampled on the floor. There are bits of broken glass there and a sort of a child’s toy and various other articles which we haven’t as yet examined. And what is more…Please do sit down, Mrs Bailey.’ The taller of the two men took her arm and led her to the hall chair, and when she was seated her voice was just a whisper as she said, ‘You said: what is more.’
‘Yes. There’s evidently been a struggle because there’s…well, there is a splash of blood on the dashboard, and more on the pavement. But the blood on the pavement is near the boot of the car. Do you want a drink of water, ma’am? Get her a drink of water.’
‘Where’s the kitchen?’
She brought up her drooping head and put out her hand, saying, ‘I’m all right. I’m all right.’
‘Have you any relatives living near who could come and stay with you?’
Her mother was the last person on earth she wanted at this moment, and Nell wasn’t here, so she shook her head.
PC Anderson said to his partner, ‘Ring the office and see if Joan Wallace is free. Ask them to send her round straight away; and while you’re on you’d better tell Sergeant Nichols to inform the inspector.’
‘He’ll have gone home.’
‘Yes, I know that.’ The words were a hiss. ‘Well, he can just come back from home or from wherever he is. You tell them.’
There was a great silence in Fiona’s head, yet she could hear the policemen talking. They were at the far end of space; they were disembodied voices. And one of the voices floated over her head and spoke to her, saying, ‘Have you any children?’ The silence seemed to explode as she pulled herself to her feet, and she said, ‘I have four children.’
‘Young?’
‘The eldest is twelve. He’s very sensible. I’ll go and wake him.’
‘No. No, I wouldn’t ma’am, not yet. A policewoman will be coming to keep you company, and the inspector an’ all because…‘ But she didn’t wait to hear why; she walked to the phone and dialled the Brookley Manor number again.
It was Sir Charles’ secretary who spoke, saying, ‘Yes, Mrs Bailey?’
She went to open her mouth but found she couldn’t speak for a moment and she turned and looked at the policeman and, her voice again like a whimper, she said, ‘It is Sir Charles Kingdom’s secretary. He…he was at the dinner with my husband tonight. Will…will you tell him, please?’
Constable Anderson took the phone from her hand, and he said, ‘This is Police Constable Anderson here from Fellburn. We have found Mr Bailey’s car outside his own gate. There are signs of a struggle. That’s all I can tell you at the moment, sir.’
‘Well…well where is he? I mean, Mr Bailey?’
‘We’d like to know that, sir. He wasn’t in the car. We are just going on what we saw there.’
‘My God! I’ll come across.’
‘I don’t think there’s anything you can do at the moment, sir, but we’ll keep you informed. Mrs Bailey would like that.’
The policeman put down the phone and, turning to Fiona, he said, ‘The less there are moving around the car at the moment, the better, ma’am. You understand?’
‘Yes, yes. But…but what do you think? Oh’—she put her hand to her head—’I…I can’t believe it. Who would want to do that? But there…Yes, yes, there was a car outside from just after nine blocking our drive. There was someone inside, a courting couple I think, but I didn’t like to go onto the pavement to enquire further.’
‘Are you sure of the time, ma’am?’
‘I think it was nine. I’m not sure. I’m not sure of anything at the moment. Then I heard Mr Paget come in at eleven. No, no; it wasn’t quite eleven.’
‘He is your neighbour, this Mr Paget?’
‘Yes. Yes, he is our neighbour.’
‘We could speak to him. We’ll do that when the inspector arrives.’
‘No, no.’ She shook her head. ‘He’s not well. He…well, his mind’s gone a bit funny lately and…’ She stopped and stared across the hall, and it was as if her eyes were seeing through the kitchen into the back garden and into the house next door. My God! He had said he would do for Bill. And he was more than slightly mad. Had he?
‘What is it, ma’am?’
‘Mr Paget, he…he was angry with my husband.’
‘What was he angry about?’
‘Because his daughter-in-law was to be married to one of my husband’s men. She was divorced from his son. He didn’t want to lose her and he blamed Bill. Yes, yes; he blamed Bill for being the means of them losing Nell. He’s been going funny lately. He�
��s…Oh my God!’ She put her hand over her mouth and rushed towards the kitchen and just managed to reach the sink before she vomited.
Constable Anderson was about to follow her, but he turned to Constable Burrows, saying, ‘Get on that phone again and see if they’ve got the inspector yet. There’s more here than meets the eye. I want to know if I should go next door or not…’
It was half-past one when the inspector and Police Constable Anderson rang the bell next door. When there was no response to the second ring the inspector kept his finger on the bell, and this time it was answered by the opening of a window.
‘What is it? What is it?’
‘Mrs Paget?’
‘Yes, yes, I’m Mrs Paget.’
‘Would you mind coming down a moment, please?’
‘What do you want?’
‘We are the police. We just want to speak to your husband for a moment.’
‘He’s in bed, sound asleep.’
‘Would you please come down, Mrs Paget?’ The window closed with hardly a sound, and a minute or two later Mrs Paget opened the front door, then stood pulling hard at her dressing gown belt.
‘May we come in, Mrs Paget?’
She stood hesitant for a moment, then said, ‘What…what can you want with my husband?’
‘We just wanted to ask him a few questions.’
‘What about, and at this time of night?’
‘Would you ask him to come down, please?’
‘No…no, I can’t. He’s not well.’
‘Mrs Paget’—they were standing in the hall now—‘Mr Bailey has gone missing. His car is outside his gate. There is evidence that he has been attacked: there are bloodstains on the pavement and signs of a struggle inside the car.’
‘But…but what has my husband to do with that?’
The inspector did not answer this question; instead he asked one of his own. ‘What time did your husband return home tonight?’
‘I…I don’t know; I was asleep. I haven’t been very well.’
‘Do you know what time he went out?’
‘About seven o’clock, I think.’
‘Do you know where he was going?’
‘No, no. He often goes for a drive. It helps to soothe his…well, it helps to soothe his nerves.’
‘I’m afraid, Mrs Paget, I must ask you to go and wake your husband and bring him downstairs.’
‘But why? Why? My husband wouldn’t have anything to do—’ She put her hand to her mouth, then said, ‘What has Fiona been saying? I mean, Mrs Bailey.’
‘Mrs Bailey is very distressed. Her husband has disappeared after apparently being attacked. She recalls that your husband was very abusive to her and threatened what he was going to do to her husband. Now I would like to see your husband and have this accusation confirmed or denied. If you don’t bring him downstairs, Mrs Paget, I’m afraid I’ll have to go up and question him there.’
The poor woman almost stumbled up the stairs, and it was a full ten minutes later when she reappeared in the hall followed by her husband who, on the sight of the police, began to tremble.
‘He’s not well. He’s under the doctor. But he would never do such a thing. Come and sit down, dear.’ She led the shivering form into the sitting room, and the two officers followed. Looking at what appeared to be a tall frail man, the inspector had difficulty in believing that this man could overpower a fellow like Bill Bailey, because he knew Bill Bailey and he was a tough guy altogether. One blow from him should have knocked this fellow flying. But from what he had heard from Mrs Bailey, this man was a sort of Jekyll and Hyde. He bent towards him now, saying. ‘Where did you go when you drove your car tonight, Mr Paget?’
‘I don’t know. Well, I just drive. It…it soothes me, doesn’t it? Doesn’t it, Bella?’
‘Yes, dear, it does, it does. He…he hasn’t been very well…’
‘I know. I know, Mrs Paget.’ The inspector silenced her with a small movement of his hand. Then looking at the man again, he said, ‘Did you stop and speak to Mr Bailey when you were out?’
‘No, no, I didn’t. I never saw him. His car was at the gate though when I came in, and I felt bad against him. I remember that, yes, I do, but not any more.’
The policemen exchanged glances.
‘Did you not get out of your car and speak to Mr Bailey?’
Both men watched the older man blink his eyes, nip on his lip, then look up at his wife before saying, ‘No, no, I never did. I never did.’
‘No; of course, you didn’t, dear. Of course, you didn’t.’
The inspector now spoke to Mrs Paget, saying, ‘Who is your doctor, Mrs Paget?’
‘Doctor Nelson. He…he knows my husband’s case.’
‘What do you mean, your husband’s case?’
‘Well, he’s been under him for five years. I have too. That’s what I mean.’ There was an icy touch in her tone now. ‘What are you trying to insinuate? My John wouldn’t hurt a fly. He gets angry at times when he’s not well, but, as I said, he wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
‘What are you getting at? What are they getting at, Bella?’
‘Nothing, my dear, nothing.’
‘I’m afraid we are, Mr Paget.’ The inspector once more leant forward. ‘As I’ve already said, Mr Bailey is missing. There are signs of a struggle and blood was spilt. And we just want to know when you last saw him and if you spoke to him with regard to what you were angry about.’
‘No, no, I didn’t. I haven’t done anything. I didn’t. I wouldn’t. I’d never go as far as that, never. Would I, Bella? Would I?’
‘No, no, you wouldn’t, dear.’
‘Take your husband back to bed, Mrs Paget. We’ll have another talk later. I’m sorry we disturbed you. I’d get in touch with his doctor, and perhaps he will come and see him in the morning. I may be round again, too.’
Both men left the room, and when Mrs Paget followed them it would seem she hadn’t the strength to open the door; and the policeman, putting his hand on her shoulder, said, ‘Don’t worry, missis, don’t worry; it’s just an investigation. We have to ask these questions. You understand that?’
She nodded, but was unable to speak. And when the door closed on the two men they walked slowly down the drive and into the street again and stood looking at the Volvo and the stain on the pavement near the boot.
‘What d’you think, sir?’
‘I can’t see him getting the better of Bailey in any way. Yet if he’s schizophrenic…they can get the strength of ten men when the mood’s on them. Remember that young lad last year from Boswell Terrace, a respectable family, father a solicitor? Look what he did. He’s out again now, but I understand the mother’s in a breakdown because she’s hardly let him see daylight since. To my mind he should never have been let home. And that’s what the girl’s parents are saying too. Still, by the look of that old fellow he won’t do much more harm the night. But if he has gone for Bailey, we’ve got to find out where he’s dumped him. We’ll have another go at him first thing in the morning. By that time we should have his doctor’s report. But we had better go in now and see if Burrows and Wallace have been able to calm down Mrs Bailey. She’s in a state. I think we’ll have to have a doctor there an’ all. In the meantime I want this car ringed round; somebody on duty all the time. And it looks as if our next visitor will be Sir Charles Kingdom’s secretary, if not Sir Charles himself.’
‘I thought he was ill, sir, I mean, the old man?’
‘No, I understand from the papers and the radio report of the meeting that put Mr William Bailey in the big money that the old fellow was there today, and very much in voice.’
They were going up the drive now when he stopped and said, ‘We might be jumping to conclusions about that old fellow next door. Disappointed rivals, you know, can become nasty. And they say there were twelve or more of them in for that big slice of cake. Yes—’ He stood now under the outside light of the front door and, nodding to the constable, he said, ‘It looks as
if we’ll have a number of interviews tomorrow besides the old schizo boy next door. But there’s one thing I’m going to have and that’s a couple of hour’s shut-eye before we have them. So I’ll send Parkins and Steel round; they can see that nobody fingers anything. We’ll leave Burrows here with Wallace. If it’s a kidnapping job, and you never know, there should be somebody near that phone. In the meantime I want you to go back to the office and tell Pringle to get names, addresses, and phone numbers of every man that was at that meeting yesterday, that’s those on the board and also every firm that applied for the job. Names, addresses, the lot. Anyway, nothing much can be done till daylight, and since I’ve been up since six o’clock yesterday morning preparing for the minor Royalty that was flitting through, it’s more than twenty hours since I had my head down, and I need at least four hours a night or I get nasty.’
When they entered the house they heard the sound of crying coming from the sitting room; and when they entered the room it was to see Mrs Bailey holding a young boy tightly to her and saying, ‘It’s all right. It’s all right. He’ll come back. You know Mr Bill, don’t you, no-one gets the better of Mr Bill. They never have and they never will. You know that. You know that, Mark, no-one gets the better of Mr Bill.’
Chapter Eight
It was nine o’clock the next morning. The car had been taken away; a policeman was standing just inside the gate and a number of reporters on the pavement outside. The news had spread early up the avenue, and there had been a crowd of sightseers to see the car being driven away. But it had thinned somewhat by the time Barney McGuire forced himself through to speak to the policeman. ‘I’m Mr Bailey’s foreman,’ he said. ‘We’ve just heard. I must see Mrs Bailey.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Barney McGuire.’
‘Stay where you are a minute.’
The policeman went up the path; and when he returned he opened the gate, but as he did so a reporter tried to slip in, only to be grabbed by the collar and pushed back onto the pavement again. And the policeman, an extremely tall young man, said, ‘We don’t want any rough stuff, do we? Now I’ve told you, if there’s any news from inside you’ll get it, but you’ll get it standing on your own side of the gate.’
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