Tuppenny Hat Detective

by Brian Sellars

  'Doctor Greenhow.'

  The sergeant and the chief superintendent gasped in disbelieve. 'For Heaven's sake don't repeat that, Billy,' said Sergeant Burke. 'You got it all wrong about Mr Pearce - didn't you? You said he was the killer, and we all know that was wrong. Don't do it again. I've told you before, proof positive before you say a word.'

  'But he did it,' insisted Billy. 'He killed him because Pearce found out that it was him who gave Stan Sutcliffe the fifty pounds. I can prove it if you show me the money envelope.'

  'What good will that do?'

  'If it's got ink splatters all over it, like I bet it has, that'll prove it came from Doctor Greenhow's desk. Pearce knew this too, because he was always getting envelopes just like it at his chemist shop - with prescriptions in them. When he saw that money envelope when you were questioning him, he recognised it as one of the doctor's.'

  'That's not proof of a murder,' said the chief superintendent, 'but in any case why would Doctor Greenhow pay this - err - Stan Sutcliffe fifty pounds?'

  'Because there was something he wanted from the old woman's house. He paid Stan to break in and get it. That's what Stan was doing when I found the police notice blowing about in the skittle yard. That's why he beat me up. And he stole my Easter egg. And afterwards, we found the nail bar he'd been using to break in. I knew it was his because it was painted with red lead like the garden tools he and his Dad have been nicking. And that's also why Pearce said he never recognised Stan when he chased after him. He knew very well it was Stan, but he wanted to protect him, just long enough to find out what he was looking for. That's why he kept him out of trouble.'

  Chief superintendant Bob Simpson removed his cap and scratched his head. 'But how is this connected to the Reverend?' he asked.

  'I think the Reverend had already discovered whatever it was that Doctor Greenhow had paid Stan to find. I still don't really know what it is, but whatever it is, he killed Annabel to get his hands on it. He hit her with his walking stick. That's probably where the little silver thing broke off from.'

  'What silver thing?'

  'You've got it now, with my other clues. It's got blood and hair on it. You should have tested it by now, but nobody ever believes me. People never believe kids.'

  The three exchanged glances. 'I'll check with forensics sir,' Sergeant DS Wooffitt volunteered.

  'It's probably nothing,' said Sergeant Burke. 'We can check all that stuff later, if we need to.'

  'So now you're saying Doctor Greenhow killed the Reverend too?' queried the Chief Superintendent. 'But that's ridiculous, Billy. He's given us the name of his killer. It was his very last word to Mrs Corbert. "Alexander". Mrs Corbert asked him who shot him and he said, "Alexander". You can't have it plainer than that.' He looked to the sergeant for support, but Burke appeared distracted. 'Once we find Alexander,' Simpson went on, 'everything will fall into place. Frankly, Billy, your evidence amounts to little more than a few ink spots on an envelope. I'm afraid that's not proof of anything. It certainly won't convince a jury that an eminent doctor and leading member of the community is a serial killer.'

  ………

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Doctor Hadfield joined the group of police officers gathered around the Chief Superintendent in front of the vicarage door. He was pale and frowning. Seeing Billy, he greeted him with a vague nod before taking Sergeant Burke to one side. 'May I have a word please, Sergeant?'

  Bob Simpson nodded his permission to the sergeant. 'I'm going to see what forensics are doing,' he said. 'Catch me up when you're finished here, Sergeant. You too, Doctor, if you please.' He moved off smartly to where forensics inspectors, were overseeing the removal of the Reverend's body.

  Billy moved to stand with Yvonne, leaning on the back of a garden bench. 'They don't believe me,' he growled. 'What must we do to get 'em to see what's right under their chuffin noses?'

  'Didn't they say owt about our evidence?' Yvonne sat down.

  He joined her on the damp seat. 'Nowt. They should have tested the silver bit thing by now, but I don't think they've even seen it. It's probably still in Sergeant Burke's office. I'm getting really fed up. The Reverend was killed to stop him talking. It could be us next.'

  Doctor Hadfield and Sergeant Burke talked in urgent whispers for some time. Billy watched them closely, trying to eavesdrop, but the garden was noisy with people and vehicles coming and going, and he could not hear them. They finished as Chief Superintendent Simpson joined them, his voice loud and authoritative.

  'So, Sergeant, I have to go now. I've asked Inspector Fletcher to keep an eye on DS Wooffitt and his friend. I dare say some C.I.D top brass will dain to turn up eventually.'

  'Very well, sir.'

  'Find out who Alexander is - and that should do it – eh?'

  'No.' cried Billy from his seat. 'Alexander isn't a person.'

  Annoyed, Simpson smacked his baton against his leg. 'What?'

  'It's not somebody,' repeated Billy. 'Alexander is not a person, it's a cardboard folder. I think it must have the evidence in it.' Everyone around them suddenly fell silent. Billy rose from his bench and walked towards the officers. 'It's a cardboard folder that Tommy Loveday made at school for his mother, years ago. It's gorra – a - cartouche painted on the front of it.' He turned and looked up at the sergeant. 'I looked it up in the library,' he explained. 'You see, I heard that Annabel had a folder with a picture of a bird and a lion on it. My granny told me Annabel kept only her most important papers in it. I found out that Tommy once did a school project about Alexander the Great. In the library I found out all about cartouches. That's what you call the picture writing the ancient Egyptians did for the names of the pharaohs. The one for Alexander the Great has a bird and a lion in it. Reverend Hinchcliffe told me that he – he – err – borrowed some papers from Annabel's house. I was pretty certain that the folder must be amongst them, because she only used it for her most important papers. I think it contains the evidence that the Reverend was going to give to the police. When he said "Alexander", I think he meant for us to look in that folder.'

  DS Wooffitt and his partner did not wait for orders. They rushed towards the house, followed closely by the Chief Superintendent and Inspector Fletcher.

  Sergeant Burke stood rooted to the spot, his face drained of colour. He watched them go inside, then shot Billy a hostile glance before following them.

  Yvonne looked at Billy, and raised a cynical eyebrow. 'Hum, don't tell me they actually believe us at last.'

  Billy was pale and shaking. 'Come on, let's see.'

  'I'm coming too,' said Mrs Corbert. 'I need to get back inside. I have things to do.'

  Yvonne stopped herself from reminding the housekeeper that she now had no employer. She decided it would be better to let her come to terms with her new situation in her own good time.

  The Reverend's body had gone from the entrance hall. A wet stain marked the spot where the floor had been disinfected. A rubberised ground sheet lay over the threshold. The telephone rang. A constable, posted beside it, answered it immediately then ran off on some errand.

  Billy led Yvonne into the Reverend's study. It felt damp, and smelled of smoke. Through the crush of policemen he saw a cardboard folder open on the desk. It was empty. Wooffitt was examining it closely.

  It was battered and dirty, but on its front cover, beautifully painted by Tommy Loveday, Billy saw the cartouche of Alexander the Great.

  'Well, whatever was in it has gone,' growled DS Wooffitt.

  'If I'd been at work on Friday, this would never have happened,' said Sergeant Burke. 'By now we'd have the evidence and our killer too. And the Reverend would be alive.'

  The back of Chief Superintendent Bob Simpson's neck glowed scarlet. Billy could almost feel its heat from where he stood. 'I have to go,' Simpson croaked quietly. 'You and I need to talk, Sergeant - tomorrow, first thing my office.' He smacked his baton against his leg, turned and marched off stiffly.

  DS Wooffitt
and his partner exchanged nervous glances and began fishing around in the fire-grate, trying to read the writing on a couple of sheets of paper ash. Billy remembered that a mirror was useless in such circumstances and glanced sheepishly at Yvonne, who, seeming to have read his mind, arched an eyebrow triumphantly.

  'The killer broke in,' suggested Wooffitt's junior partner. 'There was a struggle and the vicar was shot. Then the killer came in here looking for that folder. He took the contents and burned them here. He left the folder and ran off.'

  'Or I suppose it could have been the Reverend that burnt the papers,' said Wooffitt. 'We heard from Billy that he was worried about losing his job. Maybe he changed his mind at the last minute.'

  'It wasn't the Reverend,' said Mrs Corbert. 'That fireplace doesn't work. The flu is bricked up. He'd never burn anything here, it'd smoke the place out.'

  'The killer was somebody he knew,' said Billy, scratching invisible stubble on his chin. 'You can tell that because the Reverend let him in.'

  'Why do you say that?' asked Wooffitt, with a derisive sniff.

  'This morning, I saw Mrs Corbert struggling with the door lock. She was trying to turn the key and open …'

  'Yes, that's right,' she interrupted, 'the key wouldn't turn, and I realised it was already unlocked, you see?'

  'That shows the killer didn't break in. The Reverend unlocked the door for him, and because he was shot, he never relocked it. That's exactly how Mrs Corbert found it. So, he almost certainly knew his killer. Another thing is, he probably walked ahead of him towards the study. That's how he got shot in the back.'

  'But how did the killer know where to look for the papers?' asked Wooffitt, waving a hand at the crowded shelves around the study walls.

  'This house is cleaned by Mrs Corbert,' said Billy, pointing her out like a conjurer doing a lady-in-the-cabinet trick. 'She does everywhere in the house except this room. The Reverend told me that himself. He often left things out, knowing she would never move them. It would be the obvious place to look. And because he was worried about taking his evidence to the police, he probably already had it out on the desk where he'd been sitting, thinking about it. The killer found it straight away.'

  'Well whatever the evidence was we'll never know now,' Sergeant Burke said, dismissively.

  'There may be sommat else,' said Billy cryptically. 'When I met him on the train, the Reverend told me he had some other papers that he'd not read, because he couldn't get at them.'

  Wooffitt again looked around the walls lined with books and untidy heaps of files. 'Blimey it'll take a month of Sundays to find anything in this mess,' he groaned.

  'Or maybe we could just look in that tin,' Billy said, pointing to a painted, tin plate jewellery case, wedged between a row of books on a shelf.

  'It's like the clock,' Yvonne cried, pointing to the tin box.

  Wooffitt stared blankly.

  'When we cleared out Mrs Loveday's house,' she explained, 'we saw a tin clock. It was a really cheap looking thing, painted to look like a posh antique, just the same as that box. I bet the two of them were a matching set.'

  Wooffitt pulled out the tin box. It was about the size of a shoebox. He shook it gently next to his ear. 'It sounds like papers.'

  He set it down on the desk. Painted to look like an antique jewellery box, its ornate decoration was faded and scratched from long usage. Nevertheless, Billy was certain it would match the tin clock he had seen in Annabel's cottage. A fancy key plate escutcheon was painted on its front. Around the keyhole, the paint was worn away to bare metal.

  'It's locked, we'll need a screwdriver,' said Wooffitt.

  Billy fumbled in his trouser pocket for the key he had found hidden in the ivy in Annabel's cottage. 'Try this,' he said, tossing it on to the desk.

  'You said you'd handed over everything,' snapped Sergeant Burke.

  'I forgot that,' said Billy, feeling smart, though in truth it really had been an oversight. His mood changed as he watched DS Wooffitt fit the key in the lock. He remembered how Reverend Hinchcliffe had said that the box probably contained private letters from Mrs Loveday's husband, and how he had feared them becoming public property.

  'Stop!' cried Billy. 'Whatever we find in there, we shouldn't just read everything. It's private. Some are probably just letters from her husband.'

  Sergeant Burke was looking at him. 'You're right, Billy. Perhaps we should slow down a bit,' he said. 'I'll take it back to the station and we can study them properly, later.'

  'No I don't mean that. I mean it's just letters from her husband …'

  'Noah,' added Yvonne. 'They should be secret and not read. You should only read any other papers, but not Noah's letters. That would be all right, I think.'

  'Yes, they're right. They belonged to her. We shouldn't be reading them. They can't possibly have anything to do with the murder.' Sergeant Burke sheepishly added his support, despite Wooffitt's doubtful glare.

  Yvonne threw her arms round him and kissed him on his cheek. He blushed and shuffled awkwardly.

  Wooffitt was staring at the Sergeant as if he thought he was losing his mind. 'It's all evidence, until we know it's not,' he argued coldly. 'We can't just ignore stuff. You know that, Sergeant.' He turned the key and unlocked the box.

  As he lifted the lid, Sergeant Burke sniffed loudly and pointed a threatening finger at him. 'Well it's on your head.'

  Wooffitt scowled but went ahead. He pulled out two bundles of letters tied with wool yarn: a loose roll of papers, and an old sock. He examined the two bundles of letters. 'I'm guessing these could be the letters from her husband,' he said, and put them to one side. He held up the sock, and showed that there was something heavy inside it. He shook it gently to tip out the contents. Two gold sovereigns fell out and rolled on to the desk. Wooffitt slipped them impassively into a manila envelope and licked the seal. 'Two coins – gold,' he dictated to his partner. Finally, he picked up the loose roll of papers. 'These look like a bit of an odd assortment - could be anything.'

  Billy watched spellbound as the detective slipped off the string holding them together and allowed the papers to unroll on the desk. Everyone moved closer and peered down at the uppermost document. It was a letter from a skin specialist at Sheffield Children's Hospital. It was about Tommy's impetigo. The second page was from the war office and attached a letter from Noah Loveday's commanding officer. Wooffitt read it in silence, then said softly, 'It says he dragged his wounded sergeant all the way back to their trench before he was killed on the wire.'

  'Here son, let me,' said Sergeant Burke, taking the papers from DS Wooffitt, whose hands were now trembling. 'This one is unsigned.' Burke read the letter to himself, dismissed it and pulled out another. 'So is this.' Again he read it in silence and put it aside.

  'May I see that, Sergeant?' This from Doctor Hadfield. He reached over and took the paper from the surprised policeman. 'I think this could be what we're looking for.'

  Burke looked perplexed and for a moment seemed about to snatch the paper back from him.

  Hadfield took a step away from him and looked at each person in turn before speaking. 'I spoke to the sergeant earlier about a most serious matter that I have uncovered, thanks to Billy here. Consequently, officers have been sent to my employer's surgery and I believe Doctor Greenhow may now be under arrest.' He looked to the sergeant for confirmation.

  Sergeant Burke nodded and recovered the papers from Doctor Hadfield. 'I think that with what the doctor has discovered and this letter, it completes the story.'

  'Read it, Sergeant,' said Hadfield.

  'I have read it, Doctor and I think that with the children here, we can save all this for later.

  Hadfield took the papers from the Sergeant. 'I'll read it then,' he said impatiently, and looked around the group, noting their agreement.

  He read

  'Darling Bell, it breaks my heart, but if you come on Sunday you will spoil everything for us. You must remain my secret love. You surely know it
's you that I love. Nobody will ever take your place. Believe me Bell, what I do now, I do for you as much as for myself.

  H, thinks I will marry his daughter Iris. He will make me his partner. We must keep our love secret for a little while longer - until the right moment. You know my heart is yours, dearest Bell. Our lives will blossom when I am a partner in the practice, but you must surely see that a child now is out of the question. This is entirely the wrong time.

  Beloved secret, do this for us both, and one day we will be free and happy.

  Your true and eternal,l secret love'

  'The bastard,' Wooffitt hissed.

  Hadfield coughed and handed the letter to DS Wooffitt, who placed it in an evidence envelope under the watchful gaze of Yvonne and Billy.

  'I have evidence that he caused her to lose the child. Whether she knew and agreed to it, I can't be sure, but I am almost certain that she was tricked. Luckily, Mrs Smeggs, Billy's Grandmother, alerted old Doctor Howard. Otherwise – who knows what could have happened …'

  Yvonne went to close the lid of the tin box. She put the bundles of letters back in it and locked the lid with Billy's key. DS Wooffitt watched her, and for a moment seemed set to take the box away as evidence. Then he pushed it towards her. 'There's nothing we need in there. You can put it back where it belongs.'

  Yvonne nodded gratefully and left with it under her arm, as PC Handley entered the room. Looking pale and tense, he sidled up to Sergeant Burke and the Inspector and whispered to them. The sergeant looked relieved, the inspector perplexed.

  'Did you find him?' asked Doctor Hadfield.

  'He's dead,' the sergeant said stiffly. 'He shot himself. Constable Handley found the gun. It's with Forensics now. It's a Webley Scott .455 calibre Mk VI Navy revolver. It seems likely it's the gun that killed Pearce and Sutcliffe. It's certainly the right calibre.' He looked around brightly. 'So, that's that then! We have our killer. The Doctor.'

  'Is that it?' queried the Inspector.

  'Yes it's obvious isn't it? Greenhow heard Annabel was writing her memoirs. He went to see her, to plead with her not to disclose anything about the child and the abortion. She probably refused. You know what a stubborn old woman she could be. The doctor lost his temper and killed her. He looked for her memoirs or her papers, but couldn't find them, so he paid Stan Sutcliffe fifty quid to break in and get them. Pearce probably found out and challenged him about it, so he was killed to shut him up. He probably killed the vicar for the same reason.'