James waved the thanks aside and asked after Flora.
‘She’s upstairs in our sitting room. I’ve made her a nice cup of tea and got a fresh cream cake as a treat. I’ve told her she’s not to think about coming down here for a few days yet.’
‘Quite right. Does she remember anything about last night?’
‘Only that a Knocker came out of the shadows. If it weren’t so horrific, I’d have laughed. Fair put the wind up our Flora, I can tell you.’
‘And she doesn’t recollect who it could be.’
‘No, nothing.’
Beth asked if Inspector Wormstone had called. ‘They often ask the strangest of questions about smells and textures.’
Vic confirmed that those sorts of enquiries had been made. ‘She doesn’t remember anything much. I’d only been gone a few minutes. I’d left her by the roadside to come back here. She was stopping on to watch the rest of the parade. She was standing alongside Mr Atherton.’
‘Mr Atherton?’
‘The blind man. You’ve probably seen him walking around. Local man, always comes along to these things even though he can’t get much out of it. I mean, it’s a very visual thing, isn’t it?’
James agreed and ordered tea. They wished Vic well and made themselves comfortable outside. The area was a few feet back from the main road and a couple of ice cream vendors pushed their carts past. Across the road was the main promenade and then the beach. They’d been fortunate with the weather; the sun was warm, the sky blue with wisps of clouds waiting to be burned away by the heat.
As he studied the tourists, he wondered how many of the men here worked in the city. Suits had given way to light slacks or shorts. Their wives and girlfriends wore pretty cotton frocks and sunhats. Further along, fishermen gathered and helped one another with their nets.
He lit a cigarette. ‘That blind man, Mr Atherton. I wonder if he’s worth speaking with.’
Beth reached in her handbag and brought out her sunglasses. ‘Do you think he has information?’
‘Just something that Vic said. He doesn’t see anything of the parade but he probably enjoys it in other ways. They say that if you lose one sense, your others are heightened.’
‘That’s true. He may have heard something that no one else would notice.’
‘Or some sort of aroma; a perfume perhaps.’
Beth announced that Hilda wore a version of Youth Dew. ‘Estée Lauder sells a concentrated bath oil with that fragrance. I smelt it on her the other day.’
‘Well our man Atherton must be able to distinguish between a perfume and an aftershave. We’ll watch out for him but Hilda’s our priority.’
They were able to enjoy their tea at leisure. It was approximately twenty minutes later, when they felt they either had to leave or buy more tea that they spotted Hilda. She was striding toward the harbour, thankfully oblivious of their presence across the road.
James helped Beth up. ‘Come on.’
For the next few minutes, they strolled arm in arm with one eye on the shop displays and the other on Hilda. The woman popped in and out of the butchers and purchased a magazine at Gretchen’s. She studied a scrap of paper and headed toward the grocers. Ticking off items as she emerged from each shop, she placed them in her shopping basket and continued on.
James held Beth back. ‘We’re getting too close. Hang back a bit.’
Hilda waved to another lady that Beth recognised. ‘She’s from the WI. I can’t remember her name but she served me tea.’
They studied some local pottery for a couple of minutes until Hilda bade her friend goodbye and continued on her way. She crossed the road and made her way up the hill.
‘I think she’s going home,’ said Beth. ‘I’m sure she said their cottage up here.’
As Hilda went up the hill, they spotted Tristram coming down. He waved at his wife. James nudged Beth into a doorway and they watched from inside a gift store.
As Tristram reached his wife, he and Hilda chatted for a while and he poked about inside her shopping basket. He took some of the shopping from her. Hilda went inside and quickly returned to Tristram minus her basket. She checked her watch.
‘Do you think they have an appointment or something?’
‘Perhaps,’ said Beth. ‘They look as if they’re on a schedule.’
‘Here she comes.’
As the pair walked toward them, James and Beth wandered around the gift shop and waited until they’d passed. Outside, they watched them walk alongside the harbour wall on the promenade.
‘I say, if they’re taking that cliff path, we’ll be spotted a mile off.’
‘Let’s see. Come on.’
It was mid-afternoon and the sun had notched the temperature up a couple more degrees. James took off his straw hat and fanned himself with it. Beth pulled him back. ‘They’ve stopped.’
Ahead of them, Hilda and Tristram chatted. She gestured to a side street and Tristram toward the cliff-top. He pecked her on the cheek and they went their separate ways. As she crossed the road, he called: ‘I’ll see you in a couple of hours.’
Hilda went up the side-street, knocked on a wooden door and entered the house.
‘That’s where the WI women are meeting,’ said Beth. ‘What shall we do now?’
James brought out his wallet. ‘Listen, go in there and set up shop with Anne. I’ll grab a paper and make myself comfortable here. If she leaves, I’ll follow her. What time do you have?’
‘Three o’clock.’
‘I’ll meet you here at five if not before. If it looks like she’s going to stay the distance, I may go for a wander. If she does anything untoward, go to Wormstone.’
‘Well if I’m not here at five, it means I’m bored and I’ve gone back to the hotel.’
He brought her close to him and kissed her forehead. ‘Good luck. Don’t do anything dangerous.’
She gave him a knowing look. ‘You need to follow your own advice. Remember, you’re observing only. I hate the thought of Hilda being responsible for this. She should take a leaf out of Tristram’s book and rescue cute seals and cuddle them to death.’
They parted and James studied the paperback books on a twirling display stand. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Mr Atherton, the blind man, attempting to cross the road. He bounded over.
‘I say, do you want a hand?’ James allowed Atherton to feel his arm and the sleeve of his shirt.
Atherton sniffed. ‘My name’s Atherton. And you’re Lord Harrington.’
‘Good Lord, how on earth did you know that?’
He snorted. ‘No one round ’ere talks like you do for a start. That’s a quality cotton shirt so you’re not poor and that aftershave, I clocked that the first day you were here when you were speaking with Cardew. What’s it called? I like to know in case I smell it again. Helps me identify people.’
‘It’s called Sportsman. My wife purchased a bottle when she was last in London.’
‘All you get round here is sweat or Old Spice. And you’re wearing a fetching straw hat.’
James stood back. ‘Now how could you possibly know that?’
Atherton chuckled. ‘I passed you in the street just now. You told your wife you were glad you brought your hat. I presumed you were wearing it and that it was straw. Anything else in this weather would be a little warm. Prob’ly a Panama style, am I right?’
‘You are. Do you model yourself on Sherlock Holmes?’
‘I do not, although I have someone who reads Conan Doyle to me. A splendid writer and an ingenious character.’ Atherton bowed as if receiving an ovation from an audience. ‘I may not have my sight but my other senses are firing on all cylinders. Speaking of which, you have the Austin Healey, don’t you?’
They spoke for a couple of minutes about cars and how Atherton could pinpoint the type of engine and vehicle once he’d heard it a few times. James peered over the man’s shoulder and noticed Tristram heading toward the cliff path, en route, he presumed, to another rescue.
‘Mr Atherton, you were standing by Flora Chenery when she was taken, weren’t you?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘Was there something that came to mind?’
He chuckled. ‘You doing a bit of sleuthing yourself are you?’
James insisted he was merely interested. ‘The kidnappings do intrigue me but that’s all.’
‘Not what I’ve heard. But, yes, I heard a couple of things. Flora’d been chatting to me for a while and her voice faded a little. I didn’t put any store by it ‘coz it was noisy. I knew she hadn’t moved on because I could feel her close so I thought something had caught her eye. I felt her arm move up and then she stepped back. I thought it was funny that she didn’t say cheerio. She normally does.’
James reiterated his offer to help Atherton across the road. As they reached the other side, Atherton said, ‘I heard a van too.’
‘A van?’
‘Yeah, it’s used by the seal sanctuary. Tristram and Hans use it a lot but it must have been someone else because they were in the parade.’
‘Are you absolutely sure?’
‘I heard them go by – chatting they were about setting out to rescue something.’
‘Was that before or after you heard the van?’
‘Before, why?’
James asked if Inspector Wormstone had asked him any questions.
Atherton said that he hadn’t; that he’d spoken to a police woman who hadn’t been terribly specific with her questions and more fascinated by his Braille books. ‘D’you think it’s important then? It’s not either of them. Tristram and Hans wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
James thanked him and said he had to be on his way. That’s what had troubled him about Hilda and Debra. How would they know how to mix a drug and inject it? Tristram and Hans had access to the vet’s facilities and the training to mix a compound to drug the men. He’d told them they did everything at the sanctuary. He turned to cross the road. Hans, driving the sanctuary van, drove by in the direction of the cliff-top and waved. Perhaps he was wrong but instinct told James to quicken his pace.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Although he wanted to stride out purposely, James opted to ramble up the slope to avoid getting too close to Tristram. A number of walkers passed him and signalled a hello. He remained easily out of sight and began to think back on his time up here earlier in the day with Stephen.
He recalled how they’d discovered Flora, shaken by her ordeal, the old tin mine with the hidden lantern and the brand new padlock. And Mr Atherton was adamant the van he heard belonged to the seal sanctuary.
Was Tristram or Hans really involved? Both came across as gentle men, reluctant to harm the smallest of animals. But then Tristram had told them about Hans’ run-in with Colm which sounded like quite an altercation. Plus the humiliation of being sacked.
Both were strapping lads, capable of manhandling a dead weight; were they in it together? They were both heading in this direction. Or perhaps they were simply doing their job; rescuing a stricken creature. Had he got it all wrong?
As the path levelled out, the tall chimney came into view. Ramblers continued hiking along the main footpath. James stood and watched. Tristram had veered off the track and was heading toward the mine. He swallowed hard and checked his watch. Half past three. He reminded himself that he was to observe only and report back to Wormstone.
He scanned the area; it was daytime, people were about. There wouldn’t be any danger, not with so many tourists here. The ice cream van was up ahead and he wandered across and ordered a choc-ice. The vendor remembered him from that morning and joked that he must like it here.
James half-smiled, all the while keeping an eye on the mine. ‘It’s a lovely view. I thought I’d take some more photographs.’ He held his camera up as if to prove his statement. ‘Do you see many people going toward the mine there?’
‘Not really. One or two are like you, take pictures, but they’re mainly walkers or tourists come out for the walk. Jonah Quinn strides along here when he’s not open and that odd woman with the saucepan on her head is always charging about upsetting the customers.’
‘What about people from the sanctuary? I hear they’re up here rescuing birds and suchlike.’
‘Oh yes, that Tristram, he was hanging off the cliffs a few days ago rescuing some puffins. Nice bloke. Yes, he’s up here a few times and that mate of his, Hans. The cliffs just along there are home to hundreds of birds. There you go – one Choc Ice.’
He paid for his ice cream and loitered for twenty minutes. Some walkers vacated a wooden bench and he sat down to admire the scenery, all the while keeping the mine in sight. After forty minutes, he checked his watch and wondered if Tristram had simply walked back to the village another way. He hoped that he had. He liked Tristram and didn’t want to think of him being responsible for this crime. And there was no sign of the van. Had Hans picked him up and continued on?
He pushed himself up and decided to return the way he came. Packing the camera in his rucksack, he took one last look at the mine and stopped.
Tristram had appeared.
James sat back down and looked out to sea. He waited a full minute before turning. When he did, Tristram had joined the path and was heading back to the village. The bag he’d been carrying was gone.
James got up and strolled across to the mine. He swung open the old door and put his ear against the new one. He heard nothing. But a mine is deep. If the men were down there, they could be anywhere. He held the padlock in his hands. Bert had shown him how he picked locks some time ago. He hadn’t taken much notice because it appalled him that his friend would think that it was a task he’d require. Little did he know that it was to come in handy all these years later. Back then, Bert had used a hair clip. Beth used them all the time. He checked his rucksack to see if he had anything like that but he hadn’t. Time was pressing. If the men were in there, they would need help and possibly a medical team.
He shrugged the rucksack back on and half-jogged back to Polpennarth where he discovered Beth eating some cockles in vinegar. She held the plate up for him and he took a couple.
‘Hilda is still in that house. I said I needed some fresh air and came out. I was going to finish these and go back to the hotel. You were a long time; Tristram went past a little while ago. He waved as he went by.’
James sat beside her and gave her a wary look.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Not here. You’ll never be able to hide your surprise. Come on.’ He led her further along the promenade toward their hotel. When they’d reached a quiet area he signalled for her to remain quiet. ‘Tristram is our man.’
Beth’s jaw dropped and her eyes searched for an explanation. They leaned on the railing and looked toward the beach. James went through his conversation with Atherton and where Tristram had led him.
‘It all makes sense, Beth.’
‘It doesn’t to me.’
‘Nibbin suggested this was to do with behaviour. The simple fact of the matter is that Tristram hates anything to be hurt. Not just animals.’
‘Exactly. So why put those men through all of this?’
‘Because of what those men are, Beth.’
Realisation struck her. ‘Of course. Because they abuse their wives.’
‘I think Hilda’s been chatting about her WI women and how a few of them are treated by their husbands. We’re assuming it’s her because she’s rather forthright and we can imagine her doing it, albeit with the best of intentions, although that doesn’t excuse it. This business about him hating animals being hurt doesn’t just run to seals. I believe it runs to people too. It’s incensed him so much that he feels he has to do something about it. You remember Hilda told you that his parents split up and that he then lived with his mother and grandmother.’
‘You’re thinking they separated because his father abused them?’
‘Exactly.’
‘But what on earth is he solving by kidnapping th
em?’
James shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Giving those women some respite?’
‘Or teaching those men a lesson. We should go straight to Wormstone although he’s not there at the moment. He drove out of the village about ten minutes ago.’
James chewed his lip. Beth glared at him, reminding him again of his promise to simply observe.
‘Beth, I want to get into that mine now. Do you have a hair pin?’
She frowned at him as he explained why. She opened her handbag and brought out a couple with another reminder that he shouldn’t be getting involved.
James gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. ‘He’s not likely to go back up there so soon. I think that’s the light we saw when we were out on the boat. He goes there during the day and last thing at night. I’m going to get the car and drive up that dirt track where the ambulance went. If you see Tristram heading toward that coastal path again, go straight to PC Innes and tell him to get up there.’
Beth clasped his hand. ‘I’m getting Innes regardless.’ She dragged him across to the grocery store.
‘Where are we going?’
‘You have a torch in the car. Those men could be dying of thirst. The least you can do is take some lemonade or something.’
He stopped and pulled her around. ‘You mean you don’t mind me putting myself in danger?’
‘Of course I mind. But your saving grace is that you didn’t talk me out of going straight to the police. They may even get there before you.’
With ample supplies of soft drinks and chocolate bars James gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. ‘I’ll see Innes up there.’ He crossed the road and headed toward the hotel to pick the car up.
A brisk five-minute walk saw Beth arrive at the police station a little flustered. It was a converted terraced house with a blue light above the doorway. She stepped into the hallway which served as the reception area where there were two wooden chairs for visitors and a narrow desk with no one behind it. She rang the small bell on the side several times and studied the posters on the wall.
Lord James Harrington and the Cornish Mystery Page 19
