Coulbeck had no hesitation in answering. ‘If they did, I’ve not met them. Except a few old women he used to josh along for their money.’
Green walked back from Coulbeck’s office. He arrived at the police station as the church struck twelve. Masters was already there, alone in the office.
*
Masters said: ‘Any luck with the keys?’
‘Does there have to be? There was a key hanging in the church and there was one in Parseloe’s house. He could have used either, and he pinched the one from the vestry, which I take to mean he decided to visit the school after he’d left home, but before he left the church.’
‘Could be. But somebody else with a key got in besides Parseloe. His key was found in his pocket. He couldn’t have locked the door behind his murderer. I want to know if the meeting was by appointment or not, and whether the murderer arrived first or after Parseloe.’
Green sat down and lit a Kensitas. He recounted his morning’s work. Masters said: ‘I’m interested in this bloke, Pieters. What’s he like?’
‘Youngish. About thirty. Decent looking. If my opinion’s of any value, I’d say he was a good, honest, hard-working man.’
Masters said: ‘Don’t be so bloody stupid. Your opinion is of great value, and normally I’d take your word for it. But you haven’t heard all the story yet. Your decent, hard-working man threatened to do Parseloe in only a month or two ago.’
Green blew smoke through his nostrils. He said: ‘I always knew this case was going to turn out a bastard. You’d better tell me.’
When Masters had finished, Green said: ‘D’you want me to fetch Pieters in?’
Masters got to his feet. He said: ‘It’s early days. And bearing in mind your impression of Pieters, we’ll just keep him in mind for a bit. What do you say?’
‘You’re the boss.’
‘Meaning what?’
‘If I don’t fetch Pieters in, what do I do?’
‘Go to the vicarage and see if the other key is there. See the headmaster about his key.’
‘Why worry about keys? What about the bullet and the weapon? Wouldn’t we be better off if we knew how he was killed?’
‘We do know. He was shot. Have you ever been worried before about whether a man was shot with a three-eight or a four-five?’
‘No. Because I’ve always known. And I’ve never met a situation where a bullet never left a mark in plaster or brickwork before, either.’
Masters said: ‘Come and have a drink. We’ll concentrate on seeing just how many possible or probable suspects there are and then try to cut a few out.’
‘We’ve got a capful of possibles already,’ Green said. ‘How many more d’you think there’ll be?’
‘It’s difficult to say when a man’s as disliked as Parseloe. He had an evil influence over otherwise harmless people. You’ve just told me about Perce Jonker. What sort of an atmosphere d’you think it has to be to make a half-wit like that lift a hammer to a senior police officer?’
‘God knows. Unless Perce was the murderer.’
‘Who can tell? But Perce isn’t the only one affected. There’s Pieters, young Barnfelt, Parseloe’s own daughter Pamela, Binkhorst, with his wife and daughter. All acting strangely, to my mind. And we haven’t been here twenty-four hours yet. That’s why I suggest we should survey the field before placing any bets.’
‘We’ll have to look at all their teeth.’
‘So we will. But some will need closer examination than others.’
They entered the Goblin and hung up their coats. Masters said: ‘What’ll you have?’
‘Seeing as you’re paying,’ Green replied, ‘I’ll have a pint of draught Worthington. Nobody offered me a cup of coffee this morning, which shows we’re probably as unpopular in Rooksby as Gobby Parseloe was.’
Chapter Four
Green’s statement about their unpopularity appeared to be disproved as soon as they entered the saloon bar. Coulbeck and a companion of his own age were there. When he saw Green, Coulbeck said: ‘Can I get you gentlemen a drink? Might as well, seeing that Fred Houtstra and I came here especially to see you.’
Green introduced Masters. Coulbeck introduced Houtstra. Binkhorst, looking after both bars himself, fetched the ordered drinks. Coulbeck said: ‘Here’s health, gentlemen. Make the most of it because you won’t see me and Fred drinking together very often.’
Houtstra said: ‘That’s a fact. Being competitors in business in a friendly, cut-throat sort of way, we don’t often team up.’
‘You’re a builder, too?’ Masters asked.
‘Same as Dan Coulbeck. Only I’m out of Rooksby a bit. About a mile up the road.’
‘I see. And what brought you together today to see us?’
Coulbeck said: ‘Harry Pieters. I could see your Inspector was getting a bit suspicious about him. Having the key of the school over the weekend and all that. And Tom Taylor saying we hadn’t known him long enough to say whether he was very reliable.’
Masters sipped his gin. He felt a little uneasy. So far the people of Rooksby had appeared clannish, individually. He wondered now whether they were starting to gang up to protect people in whom he or his team showed interest. It seemed so. In his experience, business competitors didn’t lightly foregather in the middle of a working day to help the police. Not of their own free will. He said: ‘We’re naturally interested in who had a key to the school at the time the murder was committed.’
Coulbeck said: ‘Of course you are. It’s obvious you would be. But Fred and I think we’re partly responsible for a bit of trouble that blew up between the vicar and Pieters last autumn. And we thought if you got to hear of that, on top of Harry having the key . . .’
‘I had heard something of it. Just a mention. No details.’
‘There you are then,’ Houtstra said. ‘You’ll now be thinking the worst of Harry who’s a decent, hard-working sort of chap.’ Green grinned at Masters over the top of his tankard.
Masters said: ‘I’d heard that about Pieters, too. And also that he’s a kind sort of man.’
‘Anyhow,’ said Coulbeck, ‘when I saw which way the wind might blow I got on to Fred here, explained the position, and asked him to come along in the hopes of meeting you.’
‘Why?’
‘Because Fred was Harry’s boss before me, and he knows the ins and outs of that trouble between Gobby and Harry as well as I do. In fact, he knows the first half and I know the second.’
Masters said: ‘I’d better hear the story.’ He picked up the glasses. ‘But first it’s my turn.’ When they were refilled he carried them from the bar and said: ‘Suppose we take a corner table . . .’
Houtstra started off.
‘Harry Pieters worked for me from the day he left school. Served his apprenticeship, and did good work. He’s a joiner, you know, not a cabinet maker. But he’s a careful and fast worker if old Dan here hasn’t spoilt him with piece work these last few months.’
‘Stick to the story—and facts—Ted,’ Coulbeck said.
Houtstra said to Masters: ‘You’ll soon hear how Dan undercut prices. But we were talking about Harry. He’s a bit of a singer, you know. Sang tenor in the church choir until this trouble. And that’s important to remember. Anyhow, last October, old Gobby was having difficulty in getting anybody to serve as vicar’s warden. He’d run through just about everybody who was a possible and they’d all left him, disgusted.’ Masters remembered his conversation the night before with Arn Beck and mentally noted that the two accounts were mutually supporting. Houtstra went on: ‘So he asked me to take the job on. I wasn’t keen. I’d been people’s warden for a couple of years way back, and I hadn’t got on all that well with Gobby then, so I wouldn’t give him a straight yes. Told him I’d think about it. Well, he was a clever devil, or a real bad one. Take your choice. He thought he’d get me to agree by putting a bit of work my way. He asked for an estimate for putting up two or three bookshelves in an alcove. It wasn’t worth my time
going to look at it really, but I took Harry along as he’d be the one who’d have to do it if we took the job on. I told Gobby it would cost him a tenner. Now what happened next I don’t really know, but I think he realized he hadn’t made a big enough impression on me to make me accept his offer of the warden’s job. So he thought up a scheme. At the next choir practice he got hold of Harry and asked him how much he’d take for putting up the shelves in his spare time. Because it was the vicar and Harry wanted to do him a good turn, he said six pounds.’
Masters said: ‘You’re suggesting that the vicar never intended to have Pieters put the shelves up? That his asking was part of a plan to get you to become warden?’
‘That’s what I think now. But I didn’t think so when he rang me up and told me that Harry was undercutting my estimate and pinching my jobs to do in his own time. Now I honestly believe he was doing a bit of creeping with me to get me to accept the warden’s post. Showing me what a good chap he was by informing me that my own workman was letting me down. ’Course he didn’t tell me that he’d led Harry on, and I was so bloody angry at the time that I sacked Harry on the spot.’
Green grunted. ‘Without asking for an explanation?’
‘I asked Harry if it was true, and he said it was. If I’d kept him after that every one of my men would have felt free to carry on in the same way. Fair do’s all round.’
Green grunted again and waved a hand to attract Binkhorst’s attention. Coulbeck said: ‘The story’s mine from now on. Harry came straight to me for a job and I took him on. Fred had rung Gobby and told him he wouldn’t become warden, and so Gobby thought he’d better ask for an estimate from me, because he wasn’t going to pay over the odds once he’d lost the chance of Fred becoming warden. Of course I’d heard the story from Harry, so I quoted eight pounds. Old Gobby accepted. I was so disgusted I thought I’d play a bit of a trick on him. I sent Harry to do the job.’
Green choked over his beer. He put his tankard down and looked up. He hadn’t seen the tag-line coming. It had caught him unawares, tickling his sense of humour immoderately. Even Masters smiled. ‘What happened? Did the vicar refuse to let him in?’
‘No. The daughter let him in. The vicar wasn’t there but Harry knew exactly what was wanted. He’d been there with Fred, you see. So Harry did the job. Just putting plates either side of the alcove, cutting the shelves, laying them on the plates and beading them. He’d just finished when the vicar came in, and he was a bit shaken to see Harry. Harry left, but the vicar rang me up and said the job had been done badly and wasn’t up to specification. I asked Harry about it. He assured me he’d used a bolt-setting tool on the plates as I’d told him, and planed and chamfered the leading edges and so on. As I knew he would. I’d seen enough of his work to know. So I told Harry to come with me when I went to inspect. D’you know old Gobby had been chipping about there with a knife. Said the shelves didn’t fit. He was hopping about saying he could have done a better job himself. In the end Harry got a hold of him and said he’d lost one job through the vicar’s rotten tricks and he wasn’t going to lose another, and if Gobby didn’t shut his trap he’d shut it for him and so on. In the end I got Harry away, but I haven’t been paid for the job.’
Masters said: ‘Did Pieters say he would get even with him?’
‘Not to Gobby himself. But he did to me. That simple girl was outside the room when we left and Harry said to me that if it was the last thing he did he’d get even with Gobby. What makes you ask? Did the girl overhear?’
Masters nodded.
Coulbeck said: ‘I don’t suppose she could help hearing. She put you on to Harry?’
‘She told me he’d been kind to her,’ Masters said. ‘He’d seen her trying to chop some kindling and had done it for her. And she said she was sure he hadn’t harmed her father.’
‘That’s what I think,’ Houtstra agreed. ‘In the heat of the moment Harry might have bashed him—with good cause. But he wouldn’t have laid for him and killed him in cold blood months after.’
‘Thank you, gentlemen. I’m pleased to have heard your story.’
Coulbeck said: ‘It lets Harry out?’
‘By no means. But it casts a much better light on his behaviour. And an equally bad one on Parseloe’s. Don’t worry. We’re not going to hound Pieters or anybody else unless we have very definite and positive proof. Perhaps I’ll see him for myself and explain matters to set his mind at rest. I assure you he’s got nothing to fear if he’s innocent. I know that’s easy to say, but we’re not out for an arrest at any price.’
Green said: ‘Especially not in this case. I wouldn’t mind not finding who did Parseloe in. For my money he deserved it.’
*
The sergeants confirmed they’d had a fruitless morning. Masters said: ‘And you’ll probably have a fruitless afternoon. Inspector Green’s tying up the question of keys. I’d like you two to talk to the workmen who were at the school on Friday and again when the body was found on Monday. Who found him? What tools did they leave there? Had any been touched? The lot. A complete picture from their angle. O.K.?’
Green said: ‘You still want me to go to the vicarage and the schoolmaster’s?’
‘Please.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’ve got several visits in mind. I want to know what Binkhorst and his daughter were up to separately on Sunday night. I want to see the doctor, and a girl called April Barrett. I shan’t manage them all today, but I’ll be back by six, I hope.’
Dr Barnfelt senior was not surprised to see Masters. It appeared he was half expecting him. He said: ‘That son of mine thinks you’re following him around. Are you?’
‘If you mean have I bumped into him twice today, the answer is yes. But surely he made it clear that it was he who came to where I was on both occasions, and not the other way about?’
‘That’s what I told him. You’re staying at the Goblin and you had to see the dead man’s relatives. In a place the size of Rooksby you can meet the same chap a dozen times a day.’
He showed Masters into the surgery. Barnfelt’s eyes twinkled behind his pince-nez. Masters said: ‘Your son is very touchy about his patients.’
‘No more than he ethically should be, I hope.’
‘Perhaps not. I asked him how he’d found Maria Binkhorst and he refused to tell me.’
‘Did you really want to know, or were you merely observing the courtesies?’
‘Both. Maria was out and about all Sunday evening. Probably half Rooksby was out and about at the same time. But it means I’m interested in her movements and her health.’
Barnfelt said: ‘Have I your assurance you are not considering Maria as a murderess?’
‘Of course you haven’t. I should say it’s extremely unlikely that she’s implicated, but I haven’t ruled anybody out at this stage.’
‘In that case, I don’t feel at liberty to tell you my son’s diagnosis.’
‘I don’t really expect you to. I had thought perhaps the flu bug or a cold . . .’
Barnfelt shook his head. ‘Don’t fish,’ he said.
‘There are several points which I hope you won’t regard as deserving ethical reticence. I made a mistake this morning in thinking your son was calling on Cora Parseloe—just to see how she was bearing up under the strain. Evidently he was calling on Pamela.’
‘Yes. The elder one was unwell.’
‘Was she?’
‘You sound doubtful. I have no means of telling—short of asking Peter. But I took an early phone call from Cora. She said her sister had asked her to ring to request a visit from Peter.’
‘Is Peter her doctor? She’s resident in Peterborough.’
‘She’s not on his list, but she is his patient—temporarily. He attended her in her recent short illness because she happened to be here in Rooksby.’
Masters said: ‘He seems to have all the personable young women on his books. Lucky chap.’
Barnfelt eyed him shrewdly
. ‘You said there were several points you wished to discuss.’
‘Oh, yes. Cora Parseloe. I’d been led to believe she was hopelessly sub-normal. I visited her. She answered my questions sensibly enough.’
‘Was that why you asked Peter if she should be on a regimen of iodine?’
Masters laughed: ‘I’m not much of a doctor, I’m afraid. I just wondered. Thyroid deficiency—iodine.’
‘You could be right. I couldn’t be sure without examining her.’
‘You mean she has never been to see you, or you her?’
‘Never. Her parents evidently didn’t see fit to demand my services on her behalf.’
‘But she is your patient?’
‘Yes.’
‘Could I ask you to call on her?’
‘I can call—merely as a courtesy.’
‘Can I suggest to her that she comes to you for an examination?’
‘There’s nothing to prevent you doing that.’
‘I believe that more than half her trouble has been the way her parents treated her. Out in the world she might do something useful and interesting.’
‘We can hope so.’
Masters said: ‘She’ll be alone now, you know. I can’t see Pamela saddling herself with a dependent sister.’
Barnfelt looked across at him. ‘Was that your real reason for coming? To learn what could be done to help her?’
Masters found himself blushing with embarrassment. ‘Well—yes, it was. To ask you to gee-up the welfare authorities. Somebody will have to do something quickly.’
‘Leave it to me, Chief Inspector. Believe me, I share your concern.’
Masters said: ‘That’s a load off my mind.’
‘If you’re feeling happier, stay and have some tea.’
‘What about your son? If I bump into him again he’ll really begin to believe I’m dogging his footsteps.’
‘Peter has a pre-natal clinic. We’ll be undisturbed.’
They went through to the Barnfelts’ sitting-room. Mrs Barnfelt, a comfortable-looking woman, was knitting. She said she was delighted to meet Masters and then disappeared to prepare tea. Masters wandered over to the window, overlooking the back garden. He said: ‘What’s that? A railway track?’
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