“Can I offer you a drink?”
“No damn it, you may not,” John had snapped.
The room, already hushed, fell silent. It was clear that conversation had been about Heston.
“
What the devil is going on, Evans? Who are all these people?” John indicated the other people. “You promised me discretion,” he hissed.
John glared around the room, eyeing each of them was a fiery gaze. There were two young men and dressed in uniform black but were not wearing their jackets. I guessed they must have worked at the parlour. A third man at the back of the room stepped forward, his uniform immediately identified him as a police constable. He was young and looked around awkwardly before addressing John.
“
Sir? I believe you are the employer of…,” he glanced at the notebook he had been clutching “… Mr. George Heston of Hamble Gardens.”
John looked fazed before he replied.
“
Well… I am one of the executors of my father in-law’s…,” he opened his mouth wildly. “… That is to say… er… Yes.”
The constable looked relieved and he lowered his voice.
“Very good, sir. Come through to the office.” He turned and made his way past the hushed crowd to the far end of the parlour where there was a side door which he knocked on before stepping inside. Whilst we waited for a response, my attention was drawn to the rest of the room’s occupants. I could see now that there was someone sitting down behind the group. Evidently, it was this man that the young constable had been questioning as we arrived. He too was dressed in a sombre uniform of black and grey, an employee. Where he differed from his colleagues was that his nose was swollen and bloodied and his white shirt collars were wet with crimson blood. I looked at John who had just seen the same thing and his eyebrows drew together in confusion. Seeing my horror, he clutched my hand tighter. Before we could really take in any more of the scene or discern anything from the hushed whispers which had begun to escalate around us, the constable opened the door and beckoned us forwards.
“
Mr. and Mrs…,” he looked back to us as he shut the door.
“
Bancroft.” I finished.
“
Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft, sir,” he announced to the room.
The second room seemed equally as crowded as the first. A back office, there was a desk and drawers and too few places for anyone to sit. I barely registered the response from his superior, instead my eyes took in the sight of Heston, seated at a table, his head hung forward. The familiar posture was evident. His back was straight, his hands were regimentally clasped on top of his knees. He looked less like a smart butler but more like a small boy who had been caught truanting. At the sound of my voice, Heston rose from his seat and caught my eye before staring neutrally as before. The sudden movement of the old man caused some alarm and the senior policemen stood.
“Please stay seated, Mr. Heston.”
Heston remained standing and the constable was visibly annoyed at being ignored. I stepped forwards into the room past John and took Heston’s hand in my own.
“
What is the meaning of this?” John’s voice was unsettled.
He was addressing the inspector but he appeared ruffled. The events of the last week had disturbed his core such that he was unsure upon whom to rely except himself. It had brought out an insecurity in him I had not noticed before. If we were still on fond terms, I would have reached for him to assure him. The truth was, I could not be sure of anything myself.
“
Mr. Bancroft. I am sorry to have disturbed you, sir…..”
The inspector had stood to draw my husband to one side so that they may speak in hushed tones. I was growing used to this isolation and instead I took the opportunity to talk to Heston. Heston, still rigid in his seat, looked pale and drawn, the fallout of my father’ legacy was weighing heavily on him. A pulse in his temple throbbed with the tension of clenching his jaw and he looked beyond me.
“
What has happened here?” I whispered to him, still holding his hand. He said nothing. The mumble of the inspector’s voice filled up the space above us.
“
…….by all accounts, it was an unprovoked attack Mr. Bancroft. I am afraid I won’t be allowed…..”
The vein at Heston’s temple bulged, as he re-doubled his efforts to remain impassive; I felt a tremor in his hand.
“
Heston? Did someone attack you?” I drew his hand towards me and turned it upwards. His palms were dry and cold but showed no marks. I turned them over.
“
Heston?’ his knuckles were raw and bloodied. The fresh rose of a bruise and the dried scarlet were a stark contrast to the grey, almost blue of his hands.
Heston’s eyelids closed briefly and as he re-opened them, it was as if he had just returned to the room. He focused on me for the first time and he seemed surprised to see me. He looked down at his hands in mine and he recoiled ever so slightly. His fingers curled back and he drew his elbows in to his body. It was the slightest of motions but it drew John’s attention.
“
Just look at him!” John’s voice joined the fog above us and he indicated to where I was crouched before Heston. “He is an old man, Inspector!” John sounded incredulous “I have no doubt that some affray has occurred but as for assault, Heston is twice the fellows age and half his size. I am surprised your man is not ashamed to have this trouble caused on his behalf!”
There was a murmured assent from the constable guarding the door and there followed a brief silence, broken only by the distant voices from behind the wall to the shop. There were people still feasting on the details, no doubt there would be enough to dine on for some weeks yet.
“
Heston?” I whispered.
“
Mrs. Bancroft.” His voice was low and I guessed that he was feeling ashamed at being at the centre of the commotion in which we were now caught.
“Tell me what happened.”
Over my shoulder, I caught the muttered sound of the constable as Heston began to talk.
“
Wouldn’t say a word before the lady arrives and now he’s the regular singing Joe!”
“
It was a fairly new suit Madam. I had pressed it carefully before you came and cleaned his shoes too.” I nodded “After you left, I boxed the clothes up with good tissue. It keeps the folds crisp,” he added. “Then I told Mrs. Rooksmith where I was going and I caught the next regular bus to the address Mr. Bancroft had given me.’”
Here he nodded behind me towards where my husband was standing but he kept his eyes on my own as if to make sure I was listening to his account carefully.
“
I must admit that I had not heard of the name, Madam. I had assumed it would have been the same directors as Mrs. Silver.” Here, he had looked down at his feet and nodded his head. “Mr. Silver had been very pleased with how it had all been handled, I had felt sure that it would be the same company.”
John mumbled something behind me but I didn’t catch it.
“
When I stated my business to the clerk, I was asked to wait until Mr. Evans himself could attend to me. Having no other business that afternoon, I was obliged to wait. I wanted to make sure that Mr. Silver’s suit was left in good hands,” he added quickly. “I was shown to a corridor in the back, for privacy the clerk had said. After about ten minutes, one of Mr. Evan’s colleagues came out to see me. He told me that Mr. Evans was busy and asked to take the package through. You will think me foolish madam, but as the last service I could perform, I wanted to make sure Mr. Evans himself received the package and I said that I didn’t mind waiting. The gentleman seemed a little amused but allowed me to do so. I suppose I waited another ten minutes before the same man appeared. He told me that Mr. Evans was still rather busy, I could leave the package with him and he would see that Mr. Evans received it. Not wishing to become an irritant, I said I would prefer to wait than hand the man the package and said I would need to hear from Mr. Evans that the clothes were suitable before I left.”
Heston spotted my quizzical expression.
“
Sometimes clothes no longer fit you see Mrs. Bancroft. It has been several months since that particular suit had been worn and I wanted to save Mr. Evans the bother of sending a boy to the house later if it didn’t.”
I indicated for him to continue, drawing up a chair myself to sit more comfortably beside him.
“
So, he said I could wait and as I did, two young chaps went about their business down the corridor. They had been moving a long, empty wooden coffin from one room to another. I tried not to stare Mrs. Bancroft but I wanted,” he paused and a blush broke across his cheeks. “I wanted to see Mr. Silver one last time. I had tried to see beyond them into the room where they had ferried the coffin through.” His lips had grown dry as he had spoken and he paused to moisten them before continuing in a lower tone. “I’m sorry Mrs. Bancroft.”
“
What did you see?” the thin voice was mine but I hadn’t realised I had spoken.
My voice took Heston by surprise too and he glanced up at me.
“
‘What did you see?” I repeated in more even tones.
“
It was Mr. Silver.”
I had known that this was the case and whilst I felt a pang in my stomach that somewhere in this very building my father’s body lay I also knew that Heston had not told me the worst.
“What did you see?”
“At first, I wasn’t sure it was Mr. Silver but for some reason I found myself unable to look away.”
Heston coloured again not looking directly at me. It was an admission of weakness that he had succumbed to that most human of emotions, curiosity.
“
I thought it was another person. I thought it was another body,” he paused to gauge my reaction but if I had one it did not stop him. So steeled was I for this, that I must have wiped my expression clear. Despite Heston’s hushed tones, John stepped forward.
“
Steady on Heston. I am sure Mrs. Bancroft doesn’t need to hear all this. Can we talk about this more privately?” John continued in a quieter aside, presumably to the constable. I kept my eyes locked on Heston’s. He had not glanced up at John’s intrusion either.
“The body
was already half dressed in a long black skirt; the legs demurely placed together.”
I shuddered as the image of my father returned to me.
“
A man was working on the clothes as I watched. I suppose when I had readied Mr. Silver’s clothes, I had not considered how it must be to dress a dead person and I was astonished to see how skillfully the undertaker performed the task. The un-biddable limbs seemed to respond to him as he skillfully fed them into the sleeves of a heavily laced blouse and he rolled the body to one side to carefully tie the fasteners at the neck. As I watched, I felt suddenly sure that Mr. Bancroft had chosen Mr. Evans with great care and I was well pleased that Mr. Silver would be so well attended in his final preparations. I took another look at the body which the man was clothing and felt sure the family of the dear woman would also be well pleased.”
I felt growing unease as Heston continued.
“
I was about to look away, almost forced to look away as the fellows in front had finished putting their coffin away and one was about to close the door when I recognised the body. At first the head had been obscured by some box or other from which the undertaker had been selecting the clothes and as he removed it, the face was Mr. Silver’s. There was no doubt. I pushed past the fellow at the door and he in turn tried to block my way. The box of clothes getting pressed in between us. One of them tried to stop me.
‘Hold on there Sir, you can’t just go walking in to any room you like. This is a restricted area.’
“
At his words, the chap who had been dressing Mr. Silver looked up with a fright
. ‘Now look here’
I had said.
‘Now look here. There’s been some mistake. Those are not Mr. Silver’s clothes.‘
The man had looked confused and after a small pause, his face lit in recognition and he appeared to make an apology. ‘
Of course they aren’t the right clothes, we have been waiting for the deceased’s daughter to provide us with some. You aren’t Mr. Bancroft. Are you a relative, a friend?’
I had shaken my head. I suppose now, that’s why he must have assumed I was merely a delivery man.
‘Are these the clothes?’
“
He had reached me in a few strides, still standing beside the door and had prised the box from my shocked fingers. He had grinned at me as he took them and then he had stepped away to the nearest bench to open the box.
‘I’ll just check sizing before you go in case I need to get another set.’
Though I was still shocked at the attire of Mr. Silver, I was relieved that the man knew there had been a mistake and had the good foresight to check the contents before I left. I was about to say something to the man when he roared with laughter. ‘
Have you seen this?’
I didn’t know whether he was addressing me or one of the two young men, still stood behind me. Though no longer eyeing me suspiciously they had not left. The undertaker lifted the garments I had so carefully packaged and showed them to us.
‘Evans was telling the truth then! Seems the old girl was into a bit of this, that and the other then.
’ He had winked at me as if I were complicit to his chain of thoughts and then turned to take the suit over to where Mr. Silver lay in a skirt and a blouse. ‘
I saw it in the paper a few days ago and I didn’t believe it at first. Some woman dressed like a man had half the town believing she was a man. I wouldn’t have been taken in. You only have to look at her to see.’
As he spoke, Mrs. Bancroft, I could feel a temper rising up in me but if he hadn’t have continued, I might have just walked out and made a complaint to Mr. Evans and Mr. Bancroft.”