Anthem for Doomed Youth (10 page)

‘White, with a medium blue front door and
window-frames
,’ Mrs Pelham said firmly.

‘It sounds most attractive.’

‘I never could abide mustard yellow. You may show the painter in, Bella, as long as his boots are clean.’

Following the maid to the kitchen, Alec said, ‘A decisive lady, your mistress.’

‘And precious little she was let to decide till
he
vanished! Middling rousey, he were.’

‘Er … would you mind translating
middling rousey
?’

She laughed. ‘
Middling
means very, ever so, though it don’t sound like it, to be sure.
Rousey
, that’s bad-tempered. Never allowed as anyone else’s opinion was worth a groat and he’d bite her head off was she to disagree. Me, I was ready to look for another place if he hadn’t’ve gone. Not that I’d wish him murdered, mind. It’s a nasty way to go, even for the likes of him.’

The kitchen was crowded, with one medium, one large and one
very
large policeman, a bulky cook and a small, wiry painter. Tom Tring and Mackinnon each had a glass of lemonade. Bella summoned the painter to the door, examined his boots and took him away. Piper slipped out of the back door. The detective sergeants swigged down their drinks, thanked the cook and followed him. Apologising to Cook for the invasion as he passed through, Alec went to join his men outside.

‘Back to town. We’ll talk on the way. We may have
something
to go on at last.’  

The stalls in the Market Place were being dismantled when the ladies returned to the Rose and Crown. The girls were disappointed. They had hoped to hunt for bargains while their mothers went upstairs to tidy themselves. Instead, they went up, too.

‘This is nice!’ said Belinda, going over to Daisy’s window. ‘You’ve got a bird’s-eye view.’

‘Yes. I was watching earlier, before you came. I think I’ll change into a skirt and blouse.’

‘Do you mind if I stay, Mummy? I’ll keep looking out of the window.’

‘First tell me which top to wear with my blue pleated skirt.’

Bel carefully considered the flowery top and the plain blue with two zigzags of braid down the front, laid out on the bed. Both were straight, hip-length tunics, which Daisy hoped gave the illusion that she had a fashionable figure – at first glance, at least.

‘I like the flowers best,’ said Bel, and returned to
contemplation
of the demise of the market.

Hot, sticky and dusty, Daisy stripped off her frock and washed before putting on her clean clothes. As she dressed,
she said, ‘I had a chat with a couple of your teachers after the races, after you girls left.’

‘Who?’

‘Mr Tesler and Mr Pencote. They’re both very happy with your work.’

‘Mr Tesler’s really nice. He never gets angry when your experiments don’t come out right.’

‘And Mr Pencote?’

‘I like him. He’s nice most of the time, but sometimes he gets in a terrific bate when people haven’t read what they were supposed to, or they write stupid stuff, so some people don’t like him. I think when he’s impatient, it’s because his legs hurt. The stumps, I mean. It must be awful to have no legs, don’t you think?’

‘Awful.’

‘And people always being sorry for you. That annoys him, too. It’s so sad that they’re both crippled, but they’re still good teachers. It’s lucky they don’t have to teach games.’

‘Very. I had a word with Miss Bascombe this afternoon, too.’

‘Oh,’ Bel said doubtfully, ‘I’m not very good at games.’

‘Darling, you got two points for Lister today! Who could ask for more? I’m proud of you, and Daddy will be, too. Besides, Miss Bascombe thinks you’ll do better when you stop growing so fast.’

‘I don’t really care that much, Mummy, actually. It’s
sometimes
fun but there’s so many rules you have to worry about. I like swimming, though. At least Miss Bascombe isn’t like Mr Harriman.’

‘Oh?’

‘He’s the boys’ games master. Most of the boys hate him.
He’s always shouting at them for the least little thing and he picks on the ones who aren’t good at games. He says they ought to get “six of the best” to encourage them. That means beating them! Isn’t it awful? But they don’t allow beating here, so he gives them Changing Practices.’

‘Changing Practices? What on earth is that?’

‘They have to keep changing from sports clothes to everyday clothes and back, over and over again however many times Mr Harriman says. They have to go to the changing room, then go and find the master on duty to show him, then back to change again, all afternoon sometimes.’

‘It sounds like a bore, but better than a beating.’ Daisy remembered her brother Gervaise’s tales of caning at his school. He’d usually made a joke of it, but it had sounded pretty brutal to her.

‘It’s not fair, though,’ Bel protested. ‘They can’t help not being good at games, can they? Anyway, he’s horrible to everyone. He teases people, not in fun, being nasty. I’m glad Miss Bascombe’s not like that. D’you know what, Mummy? She’s sweet on Mr Tesler!’

‘Miss Bascombe? Is she, indeed,’ Daisy said
noncommittally
.

‘She makes sheep’s eyes at him when she thinks no one’s looking. And we think he’s sweet on her, too. So’s Mr Harriman, but she doesn’t like him.’

‘Goodness, what gossips you children are! Come on, I’m ready. Let’s go and see if the others are waiting for us. Oh, here are the peppermint creams. Not to be opened until after tea. I’d better just stick them in my handbag.’

‘Yes, please, Mummy. I won’t forget to remind you to
give them to me after tea. You will thank Daddy for me, won’t you?’

‘Of course, darling.’

‘I’ll write to him next week, too.’ In spite of the
distraction
of the chocolates, Bel’s thoughts were still on Miss Bascombe and Mr Tesler. ‘I think it’s nice that she doesn’t mind about his hand. Don’t you? I wonder if they’ll get married.’

When they all met downstairs, food became the only topic of interest. The girls were ravenous after the day’s exertions and needed a proper meal, which would be their last of the day, before returning to school. Sakari wanted to stay at the Rose and Crown, but they had just finished serving afternoon tea and wouldn’t reopen the dining room for dinner till half past seven.

‘We could go to that place you took us once, Mrs Fletcher,’ Deva proposed. ‘The very old hotel you were staying at, remember?’

‘The Cross Keys,’ said Belinda.

‘Oh yes!’ Lizzie agreed enthusiastically. ‘We had a wonderful high tea there.’

‘It’s just down the street, Mummy,’ Deva coaxed. ‘We drove past it. But if you don’t want to walk, Kesin could take you in the car.’

‘How far?’ Sakari asked, her misgivings obvious. ‘There are too many hills in this town.’

Daisy laughed. ‘All of two minutes’ walk, even for you, darling, and no hill. It really is very nice.’

‘It’s in your guidebook, Sakari,’ said Melanie. ‘You read about it to me on the way from home.’

Sakari sighed. ‘Then I suppose I must see it, for my
education. How is it that I have missed it on previous visits to Deva?’

‘Because when you come, Mummy, we’ve never gone anywhere except here and school. Now you’ve got a guidebook, we’ll have to see everything.’

‘Not on one short visit!’ Sakari exclaimed in horror, and everyone laughed.

They walked along King Street, the girls behind their mothers. Melanie and Sakari were talking about the
history
of the Cross Keys, Mel remembering every word the guidebook had said about it. Daisy heard Belinda say to her friends in a low voice, ‘I told Mummy about Miss Bascombe and Mr Tesler.’

‘What did she say?’ Deva asked.

‘Just that we’re gossips.’

‘Did you tell her Sally saw them together in Bridge End Garden? And Mr Harriman creeping about spying on them?’

‘That would be even worse gossip,’ said Lizzie with a hint of self-righteousness that reminded Daisy of Melanie.

‘Why?’ Deva wanted to know.

‘Because we didn’t see them ourselves. We’d just be repeating what Sally said, not knowing if it’s true or not.’

‘Prob’ly not,’ Deva conceded. ‘She’s a day brat. She could have made it up to make herself important.’

‘Then she’d have said she saw them kissing,’ Belinda argued, ‘or cuddling or something. I think it’s true. Sally lives near the Garden. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with going for a walk.’

‘Alone, just the two of them?’

‘Mr Pencote’s Mr Tesler’s best friend. He couldn’t walk that far.’

‘They didn’t have to go so far,’ Lizzie pointed out.

Melanie turned. ‘Yes, they did, to escape from horrid little gossips like you.’

‘I didn’t start it, Mummy!’

‘I’ve told you before, Elizabeth, that’s no excuse. I don’t want to hear another word on the subject.’

‘Yes, Mummy.’

Abashed, the other two also fell silent for the last few steps to the Cross Keys. They all revived once inside the dark-beamed, panelled restaurant. The girls discussed
vigorously
the items on the menu before opting unanimously for the mixed grill. Daisy, Melanie and Sakari all decided a cup of tea was sufficient for the moment. They would dine later, after Kesin drove the children back up the hill to school.

All too soon for the girls, it was time to go, though the grumbles were quieted when Daisy handed over the
peppermint
chocolates. While they were waiting for Kesin to bring the car round, Belinda said to her, ‘Mummy, will you come to Meeting in the morning?’

Daisy was in a bit of a quandary. The question hadn’t arisen before as she had always visited on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon. She wasn’t much of a church-goer. She had always seen that Bel went to Sunday School at the parish church, more to placate her mother and mother-in-law than from any great sense of conviction. Otherwise, christenings, weddings, funerals and Christmas carol services were about the limit of her observance.

But she had sent Belinda to a Quaker school, and it would hardly set a good example to refuse to attend the service. More to the point, Bel was looking at her hopefully, and
it was hard to refuse the child, especially when her father wasn’t able to be there.

‘What time is it?’

‘Ten o’clock. And it practically always finishes at eleven, unless someone starts to speak at the last minute, but they hardly ever do, because the little children come in for the last ten minutes and they get restless.’

She wouldn’t have to get up early, and she could survive an hour. ‘All right, darling, I’ll be there.’

‘I’ll go with you,’ said Melanie.

Five pairs of eyes turned to Sakari. She sighed. ‘Very well, I shall go as well. It will be educational.’

Later, when they met in the Rose and Crown dining room, Sakari said, ‘Daisy, do you think it is true about Mr Tesler and the games teacher?’

‘It wouldn’t surprise me if they’re fond of each other. About the walk in the Paradise Garden—’

‘Bridge End Garden, is it not?’

‘Yes, I was being frivolous.
The Walk to the Paradise Garden
is a piece by Delius. The Paradise Garden is
actually
the name of a pub – but you don’t want to hear about that. I have no idea whether Tesler and Miss Bascombe are “walking out” seriously.’

‘I hope not. It is a bad example for the children.’

‘Sakari, we’re in England in the 1920s, not India and not the Victorian era! Taking long walks together is about the only way they can escape the prying eyes and
rumour-mongering
of several hundred children, even if that dreadful man Harriman is still able to spy on them.’

‘You two are as bad as the children,’ said Melanie. ‘May we please change the subject?’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Sakari said promptly. ‘Let us talk about the murders.’

‘Sakari!’

‘Have you received any messages from Alec, Daisy? You would assuredly have told us if he were able to join you tomorrow.’

‘I haven’t heard from him. There’s still time, but even if he makes an arrest tonight, he’ll still have endless paperwork to complete. It seems to be an incredibly complicated case. As I told you, the three victims don’t have anything obvious in common.’

‘Except that I have met a Mr Pelham who may be a
relative
of one, and Melanie has met a Mr Devine who almost certainly
is
another.’

‘Yes, well, we don’t need to tell Alec. Not yet, at any rate. If your Pelham is a close relative, Sakari, Alec’s bound to find him.’

‘I didn’t know Martin Devine well enough to have anything to contribute to the investigation,’ Melanie said thankfully.

‘And I don’t know anyone by the name of Halliday. So not one of us has any helpful information.’

‘Nevertheless, I am quite certain that you have a theory, if not several. Tell us,’ Sakari urged.

‘Nothing I haven’t already picked holes in myself,’ Daisy admitted sadly. ‘Alec hasn’t told me enough to base a sound theory on. It may seem to you as if I’m constantly getting involved in his cases, but most of them I don’t know any more than you can read in the papers, and this is one of those.’

‘Thank goodness!’ said Melanie. ‘It’s bad enough being distantly acquainted with a murder victim, without having you mixed up in it. That dreadful business at the Tower of London! And I’ll never get over the dead dentist case you inveigled Sakari and me into.’

‘You may have been inveigled,’ said Sakari, ‘but I joined in willingly. Is it not our duty to aid the police in discovering a criminal if we are able?’

‘Aiding is one thing. Meddling is another.’

‘You sound just like Alec, Mel,’ Daisy said, laughing. ‘Not to mention Superintendent Crane. I’m going to have the rhubarb tart with custard, which could probably be
classified
as a crime against my hips. What about you?’

As they drove back to London, Mackinnon at the wheel, Ernie Piper taking notes, Alec told them about his interview with the widow.

‘Ah,’ said Tom, ruminating, ‘it don’t sound as if she’s grief-stricken.’

‘No, but we’ll talk about that when everyone’s reported. Go ahead.’

Tom’s report from the Duke of York for the most part merely confirmed what Mrs Pelham had said: the colonel was a monumental bore. In fact, the landlord, Chas Watson, said a group of elderly regulars had concocted a defence, a rota of whose turn it was to take Colonel Pelham off into a corner and bear with him for a few hours, leaving the rest free for the evening. Tom had all their names, but considered it unlikely that they’d have anything to add.

‘Watson can’t remember specifically whether there were strangers in the saloon bar that evening, but he says more than likely. August they get a lot of visitors to the spa, and they’re the kind that drink in the saloon, not the public. For what it’s worth, laddie, the place is a free house. I had a nice pint of McMullen’s bitter.’ 

‘I can’t see what it means, if anything,’ Ernie admitted, ‘but you never know.’

‘Is that it, Tom?’ Alec asked.

‘Just about. Seems the colonel was pretty regular in his habits. He didn’t go in every night, but when he came, he always arrived at a little after nine, after his dinner, and stayed till closing. Late August, it would have been dark when he left. Easy to waylay him on the common. Like you said, Chief, there’s plenty of hiding places near the path he would’ve taken, the most direct route to his house.’

‘All three victims walked a lonesome road home from the pub,’ Mackinnon observed. ‘Pelham across yon common, Halliday across the fields, and Devine along a high-hedged lane. Did the killer choose them for that reason, or was it a fortunate coincidence for him?’

‘A good question,’ said Alec. ‘We won’t know the answer until we find a motive.’

‘But, as far as we know, nane o’ the three showed any sign of concern that such might put them in danger?’

‘Not as far as
I
know,’ Piper told him. ‘No one’s mentioned it in any report.’

‘We ought to have asked,’ Alec acknowledged, ‘and will have to when we get to follow-up interviews. They were all vulnerable every time they walked home. It would appear that they didn’t feel threatened, weren’t conscious that someone might be gunning for them, or they would have taken precautions. Mackinnon, any luck with the neighbours?’

‘Not what I’d call luck, sir. They all avoided the auld man like the plague, considered his hoose a blot on the landscape, and were sorry for his wife. I didna get any
feeling of serious animosity. One young woman said she’d called one day when the colonel was out to give Mrs Pelham a pamphlet on feminism. Mrs Pelham returned it next day, saying she was all in favour, but you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.’

‘She’s certainly blossomed out, though, in the short time since I told her he won’t be coming back!’

‘Some of them are a wee bit shocked at how lightly she took his disappearance, and now his death, however much they disliked him.’

‘Some people want to be shocked,’ Tom observed tartly. ‘Good luck to her, I say.’

‘I rather liked her,’ said Alec. ‘She has considerable force of character. The colonel must have been a real tartar to keep her subdued.’

‘Ah,’ said Tom, ‘he’d have got the upper hand when she was young and unsure of herself, I dare say. Then he went off soldiering and she discovered her own strength, but, like she said, the habit of kowtowing was too strong for her.’

‘That sounds a lot like what you usually call
psycho-rubbish
, Sarge.’

‘You watch your cheek, laddie. Common sense, that’s what it is.’

‘Common sense or psycho-rubbish, given her obvious feeling of liberation, would any of you consider her a suspect in his death?’

‘No,’ Ernie said promptly. ‘For one thing, the servants swear she never went out the evening he didn’t come home. She was knitting and listening to the wireless. And then, why would she want to murder Devine and Halliday? Doesn’t seem likely she even knew of their existence.’

‘Unless he talked about them. She told me, if something’s repeated often enough, it sinks in even if you’re not listening.’

‘I can’t see it, Chief,’ said Tom. ‘All the plotting and
planning
it must’ve taken to bag the other two. And what for? What could he have said about them that’d make her want them dead?’

‘I ought to have asked the neighbours if she’d been away from home when Devine and Halliday were killed.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about it, Mackinnon. Even if she was responsible, for some unfathomable reason, I can’t imagine her carrying out the kidnapping and killing herself. Nor can I see her hiring someone, or even beginning to have any idea of where to look for a hired killer. The whole thing strikes me as extremely unlikely.’

‘Me, too,’ Tom agreed.

‘I asked the servants,’ Ernie said smugly, ‘and Mrs Pelham hasn’t spent more than a few hours away from home in years. The colonel had enough of travel in the army and wouldn’t stand for any more.’

Alec laughed. ‘That looks like that, then. Now that we have the colonel’s army service information, someone’ll have to go and check the records to find out if Halliday and Devine were in the same unit.’

‘Saturday, Chief,’ Piper reminded him.

‘Damn! It’ll mean sending a request up the chain: the super, the AC, the commissioner, the home secretary, and, assuming they can all be got hold of tonight, hoping Joynson-Hicks will agree to talk some brass hat in the army into getting a clerk in to find the bumf for us.’

‘Shouldn’t think we’ve got a hope, Chief,’ Tom said.

‘I wadna be so sure, Mr Tring. Whilst I was in charge at
the Yard, Jix telephoned the AC twice to find out what was going on. There’s nae doot he’s verra consairned. A fourth murder wad be a blot on his record.’

‘And mine,’ said Alec grimly. ‘The trouble is, it may take a fourth to provide us with a useful connection.’

‘At the rate he’s been bumping them off,’ Piper pointed out, ‘it could be months before he does another.’

‘Nor is he likely to bury the body in the same area,’ said Mackinnon. ‘It might never be found.’

‘There’s always the possibility that he’s come to the end of his list. Even if not, unless he’s stupid enough to do the target trick again, we might never connect a fourth with the first three. Then the case would eventually be written off as unsolved, bad, but not quite so bad for our reputations.’

‘Only if we don’t solve it, Chief,’ said Tom. ‘I’m betting we will, though it may take a while.’

Piper was thoughtful. ‘I’m betting the
Justice! Revenge!
target is too important to him to leave off. Otherwise, why would he do it? Unless he’s a madman.’

‘In which case, all bets are off,’ said Alec. ‘Catching a madman who appears sane under most circumstances is a matter of sheer luck. Of course, we have no evidence that there were three identical targets. The first and second safety-pins could have been something quite different for all we know. What I would like is some bit of tangible proof of something!’

‘Let’s hope we get something to go on from the army
records
,’ said Tom, ‘even if we have to wait till tomorrow.’

‘Or Monday! Yes, if we knew they were all together during the war, we could look for other veterans of the same battalion, or regiment. Someone might know of a
particular incident the three were involved in. It must have been something out of the ordinary to incite such a desire for vengeance. Also, we might be able to find out if anyone else was mixed up in whatever it was, in time to protect him.’

‘Tell that to Sir William Joynson-Hicks and he’ll fall over himself to help.’

‘I’ll make sure Mr Crane passes it on. One thing we haven’t done – I admit it slipped my mind – is a thorough search of the burial area for bullets. Knowing what kind of gun was used might be useful.’

‘We did a pretty thorough search, Chief,’ Tom protested.

‘In the rain, in the twilight. And I don’t recall anyone checking the trunks of trees. The way the victims were tied up, he might have put them up against a tree to shoot them. Don’t worry, Tom, I shan’t send you, any of you three. It’s a job for a couple of DCs. You’re needed at the Yard this evening. What I’m betting on, is that we’ll be faced with a lot of tips from the public, since the papers printed the names this morning. I assume Cavett’s done some preliminary sorting, but it’s up to us to decide which are worth following up.’

The big room set aside for their use at Scotland Yard looked as if a multicoloured snowstorm had floated through. On every desk and table were drifts of official memo slips with telephone messages; blue, beige and even violet
notepaper
; pink telegram forms; and scribbled scraps of all sizes and shapes. Over these pored Inspector Cavett and his men. A couple moved about the room, transferring sorted piles from one place to another.

Cavett looked up as Alec, Tom, Mackinnon and Piper entered.

‘Bloody impossible, sir,’ he said bluntly. ‘Three men, each of them apparently known to half the population of southern England and every newspaper-reading nut in the whole country. Plus a whole year since the first
disappearance
for people to let their imaginations run riot in, if they can’t actually remember anything about last week.’

A messenger brought in a new stack. ‘Who gets this lot?’

A man with a nearly clear space on the table in front of him raised a weary arm. ‘I’ll take ’em.’

Alec sat gingerly on the corner of his desk. ‘It looks as if you have everything under control, Inspector, but it must be about time you went home. I’ll want you here for a meeting at ten thirty tomorrow. If you’d be so kind as to explain what’s going on and your sorting system to DS Mackinnon, he’ll take over.’

‘The CID never sleeps,’ said Piper.

‘To start with, give your “most likely” pile to Piper here. He can get started on it. I’ve got to talk to Superintendent Crane.’

‘He’s gone home, sir.’

‘So they told me downstairs. Can’t be helped, I’ll try to get him on the phone. Tom, you’d better come with me.’

They went up another floor to Alec’s office, where Tom had his own desk and phone.

‘Mind if I ring me old dutch, Chief?’

‘That’s what I brought you up for. You know I live in terror of Mrs Tring’s displeasure. As the super’s at home, it’s best if I call him direct.’ He slid his telephone towards him and unhooked the receiver. Connected to the
switchboard
, he asked for Crane’s home number.

‘Mr Crane left word he’s dining out, sir—’

‘Great Scott!’ What he meant was ‘Bloody hell!’ but he spared the ears of the switchboard girl.

‘—But he gave a telephone number where he can be reached in an emergency. Would you classify your call as an emergency, Chief Inspector?’

Did he? He wouldn’t have been talking earlier about rousting out the home secretary on a Saturday evening if he didn’t consider the matter urgent. The possible army
connection
was their only real lead, and the sooner they found out whether it actually led anywhere, the better. It would take time to dig through the mounds of paper below, to cross-check tips and contact tippers.

‘Urgent enough to risk interrupting his evening, miss.’ And then the super could decide whether it was urgent enough to disturb the AC. ‘I’ll stay on the line.’

‘Very well, sir.’

He listened in as she spoke to a very hoity-toity butler. A few minutes passed before Crane came on the line.

‘Fletcher? News?’

‘Not exactly, sir. I need some information.’ He explained.

A long, windy sigh blew down the wire. ‘I’ll see what I can do, but you realise that even getting hold of these people on a Saturday evening may be impossible, let alone getting their cooperation.’

‘I’m aware of that, sir. I wouldn’t ask if—’

‘I know you wouldn’t. I’ll get right to it. With my
hostess
’s permission …’

‘I’m sorry, sir.’

‘Never mind. Er, Fletcher, Mrs Fletcher still well out of the way, is she?’

‘Yes, she’s in Saffron Walden.
North
Essex.’

‘Not far enough,’ Crane said gloomily.

Alec didn’t consider it the right moment to inform him that it was Daisy who had first suggested the possibility of a military connection.