‘Nothing definite as yet, only suspicion,’ Frances admitted. ‘It involves Mr Iliffe and Mr Babbit, who affect to be deadly rivals, and make a great show of it in public. There was heavy betting on the professionals’ race, which had been built up to be an important confrontation, and I am guessing that virtually all of the money was either on Iliffe or Babbit to win. But you saw what transpired. It will be hard to prove but I believe their collision was no accident. Men of that skill and experience would be able to make it look convincing. Knowing the outcome, they would have had secret bets that neither of them would win, and perhaps they received a portion of Hopper’s profits.’
‘How do you know this?’ asked Sharrock.
‘Tom Smith saw one of Hopper’s boy runners taking messages between Iliffe and Babbit. The boy in the green cap.’
‘Hmm. Well, we’ll look into it. But if they’ve been clever covering their tracks and no one will admit anything then it’ll be hard to prove. Hopper’s men won’t talk because that would take away a nice income from their master and little gratuities for them.’
There was a knock at the door and Sergeant Hambling appeared. ‘We have Mr Peters, sir, and he isn’t a happy fellow right now, what with that nasty accident to his knee.’
‘Is he willing to talk?’
‘Not about his master, or his business, no. Says he just carries the messages and doesn’t look inside them. One thing he did say, hoping we’d treat him more lenient for the information, he made an accusation against Mr Coote. Said that Coote hated one of Mr Hopper’s men, Edward Cowdray, and reckons he killed him. Of course, he didn’t know that Coote was dead.’
‘Hopper dismissed Coote because he thought he was stealing from him,’ said Frances. ‘Then when Cowdray disappeared with some money he realised that Coote wasn’t the culprit. So Coote did have reason to hate both Hopper and Cowdray.’
Hambling looked surprised.
‘What the lady said,’ said Sharrock. ‘Anything more?’
‘Well, according to Peters,’ Hambling continued, ‘Cowdray was doing some other business on the side that was bringing in money that Mr Hopper never saw, and Coote wanted part of it, but Cowdray wouldn’t let him in. So he killed Cowdray. That’s all he said. We’ll never get to the bottom of it now.’
‘Edward Cowdray,’ said Frances, suddenly.
‘Yes. Do you know him?’ asked Sharrock.
‘No, but I have had a thought. Hopper’s boys are on foot but the young men ride velocipedes. Did the missing man, Cowdray, ride one?’
‘I don’t know – he could have done. Why is that important?’
‘Because on an earlier visit to Springfield Lodge Cedric and I had a look at the old kitchen garden. It’s very much overgrown, but in it we found an abandoned velocipede. It had some letters scratched on it, EDW. I thought they must be initials but Cowdray’s name was Edward, which can be abbreviated to EDW. Perhaps it was his velocipede? Mr Hopper should be able to identify it. I thought when I was there that something had happened, but I wasn’t sure what. Perhaps Cowdray was killed there?’
‘You didn’t happen to find a body you’ve not told me about yet?’ asked Sharrock, his tone not entirely sarcastic.
‘No, but I didn’t search the whole area.’
‘Full of surprises as ever, Miss Doughty,’ said Sharrock. He nodded. ‘Sergeant, I assume Mr Hopper has not left the field?’
‘He has made a number of attempts to do so, sir, and we have had to place him under guard.’
‘Right. You go along and ask him about Cowdray and his velocipede, and let us know.’
Sharrock stared at Frances. ‘I don’t know how you do it, but your fingers seem to be all over this business.’
‘I was just keeping my eyes open,’ said Frances. ‘That was how I found Miss Hicks’s body, by seeing her bonnet ribbon. I assume you have made no arrest yet?’
‘No, but I don’t think we have to look far.’
‘It’s an old story, I’m afraid,’ sighed Cedric. ‘I feel only pity for the girl. Men can be so cruel.’
Sharrock hesitated, tapping his fingers on the table. ‘All right, I don’t usually share information with civilians, but I know Miss Doughty has a certain way of looking at things, and you, Mr Garton, seem to be mixed up in it as well, and —’ he waved a hand at Mr Grove as if unable to place him in any easily describable category, ‘I want to keep my kneecaps where they are. So I’ll tell you what we know so far, in strictest confidence, mind. I’ve had a full report from surgeon Barraclough, and it looks like it wasn’t a fancy man who done it. There’s been all those old women spreading the story that Miss Hicks was in the family way. Nasty tongues, they’ve got. Well according to the surgeon she was nothing of the sort, and —’ here Sharrock looked a little awkward, ‘well let’s just say, she would have known it.’ Frances didn’t ask him to comment further. Barraclough, she thought, must have made an examination of the body to see if there was any disturbance of the garments, and found that the girl was in a situation incompatible with being an expectant mother. ‘Of course,’ Sharrock went on, ‘she might have spun a story to get money out of a man, but any man with an ounce of common sense is not going to agree to anything unless he is sure of the truth of what she says and has a good idea that he is responsible. She had nothing to bargain with at all.’
‘So what is your theory, Inspector?’ asked Frances.
‘Oh, it’s still a crime of passion. Jealousy. All done on an impulse. Miss Hicks had any number of admirers she wouldn’t give the time of day to because she had her sights set higher than was advisable. All we need to know is which of them was here today. And I can think of one name in particular. Someone with a father who had his neck stretched.’
‘Mrs Pirrie would have words to say about that,’ Frances observed.
‘She already has,’ said Sharrock drily. ‘At some length.’
Sergeant Hambling returned. ‘Mr Hopper said that Cowdray rode a velocipede and he also thought he had scratched some letters on the side. He didn’t think Cowdray would have abandoned it willingly.’
‘Right. I suggest we take him along to this garden and let him have a look at the machine. If he confirms that it does belong to this Cowdray then we will have to search the area. Might find a body if we’re lucky.’
Frances was not so confident. The growth of the grass through the wheel spokes of the abandoned machine showed that it had been there for some considerable time. A body lying in the open air in the heat of summer, even behind that wall, would have attracted some attention within a few days. If the abandoned velocipede was Cowdray’s and he was dead, then his body would be elsewhere.
Sharrock rose to his feet. ‘Now there’s no need for you to get involved, Miss Doughty.’
‘I disagree,’ said Grove. ‘I think the lady’s insights will be essential.’
‘Home Office orders?’
‘If you like.’
Sharrock knew when he was beaten. ‘Very well. And you, Mr Garton? Will you join the merry throng? Another man to help the search wouldn’t go amiss.’
‘Of course,’ said Cedric, graciously. ‘How kind of you to invite me.’
‘If you don’t mind, Inspector,’ said Frances, ‘I would like to ask Sergeant Hambling a question about those people who wish to visit the prisoners at Wormwood Scrubs.’
Hambling looked at Sharrock.
‘Just answer the question,’ said the Inspector, wearily. ‘Take my word for it, it will save time.’
‘Very well, sir.’ Hambling turned to Frances. ‘What do you wish to know?’
‘I assume all visitors must apply for permission and present some proof of who they are?’
‘Yes, that is the case.’
‘I happened to overhear’ – at this statement Inspector Sharrock rolled his eyes but said nothing – ‘the Reverend Ross-Fielder complaining that someone had visited Mr Coote in his name, but that he had never been to the prison at all.’
Hambling pa
used. ‘Well, I don’t know how you know that, but it is true. The prison records show that a Reverend Ross-Fielder paid a visit, but the gentleman denies it. He claimed that someone must have forged his papers, as he has none missing.’
‘Might I suggest that a warder be sent for, who could settle the question? Someone who was present at the interview?’
Hambling nodded. ‘I suppose we could ask the man to pay a visit to the Reverend and provide an opinion. I’m sure he will be pleased to have his name cleared.’
‘If you don’t mind,’ said Frances, ‘it is my belief that we would get more positive information if that warder was to come here this afternoon. And no member of the Ross-Fielder family should be allowed to depart until he has given his judgement.’
Hambling looked at Inspector Sharrock in astonishment.
‘Do it,’ said Sharrock. ‘It shouldn’t take long.’ He hesitated. ‘Send a man on a bicycle.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Once a constable had been dispatched to Wormwood Scrubs, Hambling and Mayberry went to bring the unwilling Mr Hopper before Sharrock. Mr Hopper looked like a man who had only two moods, bad and worse. This one was worse. With his grim brown and grey thick suiting he looked like a travelling thundercloud. Frances was relieved to see that the prisoner was in handcuffs, although he wore them easily as if they were an accustomed item of embellishment.
‘I don’t know nothing about Cowdray except he was a right bad ‘un!’ he growled. ‘Nasty little thief! Ran off with my money and not been seen since!’
‘Describe him,’ said Sharrock.
Hopper shrugged. ‘Medium height. Bag o’ bones, but strong. Finger missing off left hand. Got bit off by a dog.’
‘It would be helpful if Mr Hopper could tell us when he last saw Mr Cowdray,’ suggested Frances.
‘True,’ said Sharrock. ‘What have you got to say about that, Hopper?’
‘Last summer. When we had that hot spell.’
‘Can you be more precise?’ asked Frances.
Hopper scowled at Sharrock. ‘What’s this, you got women police now?’
‘Just answer the question,’ said Sharrock.
Hopper wriggled in his clothes as if they were itching him. ‘Don’t remember exactly do I? All I know is, the day after I last seen him, when he didn’t come back from a job, I sent some of my boys out to look for him, in case he’d had an accident. The boys didn’t find him, nor his machine, but they said the police were all over the place because there’d been a murder. I thought it might have been Cowdray who’d been killed, but it turned out it was one of the bicycle men.’
‘Was that the Vance murder?’ asked Sharrock.
‘The one the pig-man did.’
‘That means Cowdray was last seen the day before Morton Vance was killed,’ said Hambling.
‘Interesting,’ said Sharrock. ‘I don’t suppose you reported him missing to the police?’
‘No. If my boys couldn’t find him, the police had no chance.’
‘Perhaps Cowdray murdered Vance and ran away?’ said Frances. ‘Abandoned his velocipede and stole a different machine so he could move faster and not be so easily identified?’
‘I feel I ought to remind you,’ said Sharrock, heavily, ‘that a man has been convicted of that crime and hanged.’
‘Oh, the police don’t care who they hang as long as they hang someone,’ put in Hopper, with a noise that might have been mistaken for a laugh.
‘Perhaps Cowdray saw or heard something that frightened him,’ said Frances. She turned to Hopper. ‘Was he easily frightened?’
‘That one?’ said Hopper derisively, ‘No. Nothing frightened him. Always looking for a chance, he was, and didn’t care much how he got it. Stealing, threatening, he was game for it all. I was glad to be rid of him.’
‘Your man Peters said that he thought Coote killed Cowdray,’ said Hambling.
‘Coote? Might of done. Why?’
‘Because we think we have found Mr Cowdray’s velocipede,’ said Sharrock.
‘Oh yes? So that’s what all the questions are about.’
‘And we’re going to take you to see it now. One word of warning; any attempt to escape custody will be dealt with very severely indeed.’
It was an unusual little party as they left the pavilion. Inspector Sharrock allowed Frances and Cedric to lead the way and Hambling and Mayberry took charge of the prisoner, with Sharrock and Mr Grove following.
‘I assume I can trust you not to run off?’ Sharrock murmured to Grove.
‘I wouldn’t miss this for anything,’ Grove assured him.
It was inevitable that they attracted some attention from the crowds, and Frances realised that people were making the assumption that Hopper had been arrested for the murder of Miss Hicks. His habit of hiding behind the scoreboard did mean that it was hard to prove where he had been during the professionals’ race.
They passed through the front gates, waved on their way by the constable on guard, then walked along the road to Springfield Lodge. Frances showed them the door to the kitchen garden. ‘When I went in earlier today, the door was extremely stiff and had clearly not been opened in a long while,’ she told them. ‘The weeds were heavily overgrown, except for the area near the door, where they were still high but much less so. That means the door has been opened but not for some time. I found the velocipede by the remains of an old wooden shed, and the weeds were growing through the spokes, so it had clearly been there for some months.’
Hambling and Mayberry stayed in charge of the prisoner, while Sharrock, Cedric and Grove used their combined strength to force the door open, and they all entered the garden, Frances leading the way. As soon as she entered she saw that something was different. The debris around the shed had been disturbed as if someone had had a cursory look around and tumbled things about. Frances, with a feeling of foreboding, walked around the remains of the fallen shed. There was a patch of trampled weeds where the machine had been but the velocipede had gone.
Behind her, Frances heard Archie Hopper laughing.
The overgrown garden was thoroughly searched but there was no sign of a body. They returned to the cricket ground, where arrangements were made to take Archie Hopper to Hammersmith police station, and Frances gave the police as full a description as she could recall of the missing velocipede in case it should reappear. ‘It wasn’t found by chance,’ she told Sharrock, as he sat behind his desk in the tearoom once more. ‘It has probably lain there for a year without being disturbed. But someone knew it was there and today they came and deliberately removed it.’
‘Any idea why?’
‘Yes, I think so. The police have been in the area looking for Coote. Sergeant Hambling told me they’ve been searching everywhere; stables, gardens, sheds. So whoever put the machine in the lodge garden must have feared that there was a chance that they would look there and find it.’
‘That still doesn’t tell us where it is now. Do you think you would recognise it if you saw it again?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Could have been sold on by now. It’s worth a few shillings I expect. I’ll send a constable to ask round the bicycle shops, they sell these velocipedes there, too, don’t they?’
‘I expect so. And quite probably parts to be used for repairs. It might have been broken up. The only thing that will tell us it is the one we are looking for is the letters scratched on the handlebars.’
Sharrock did not look confident of success.
Jepson arrived at that moment to report to Inspector Sharrock. He was somewhat taken aback to see Frances, Cedric and Grove in consultation with the Inspector. ‘I’m sorry to have intruded on your interview, I will return shortly,’ he said and made to depart.
‘No, come in and take a seat. You can speak freely here.’
‘Very well,’ said Jepson, with a puzzled air.
‘How is Sir Hugo now?’
‘He is still very confused, but I have persuaded him to rest and Mrs Pi
rrie is caring for him until he can be taken home. I feel confident he will recover fully.’
‘You have already said that you believe him to have been under the influence of morphine, most probably taken by mouth?’
‘Yes, I could find no sign that it had been injected into him. It is my opinion that it was added to his coffee. I think I ought to say that I have never at any time prescribed morphine for Sir Hugo. Indeed, he was one of those gentlemen who are averse to taking medicines. He used a number of liniments and similar for the strains of bicycle riding but these were only ever for external application, and none of them contained morphine.’
‘Do you keep morphine at your surgery and carry it in your medical bag?’
‘I do, and I have checked everything very thoroughly and nothing is missing. All can be accounted for.’
‘Has anyone come to you recently asking to be prescribed it? Have you been asked to sell any?’
‘No, not at all. I don’t believe it is something that should be in the hands of an unqualified person.’
‘For what ailments would you prescribe it?’
‘Those where the sufferer endures severe pain which cannot be ameliorated in any other way.’
‘When did you last prescribe it?’
‘I would have to look at my notes, but I believe it was about a month ago, for an elderly patient of mine in Acton who was dying. And before you ask me, I made sure when I certified his death that none of the medication remained. I always do.’
‘Have you ever prescribed, given, sold or supplied in any manner any morphine to a member of the Bayswater Bicycle Club, or anyone working for or friends with Sir Hugo Daffin?’
Jepson bridled a little at the question but appeared to accept with some resignation that it was something he was bound to be asked. ‘No, never. And I should say as well that I have questioned my son, who is engaged in the study of medicine, and he is adamant that he has never supplied morphine to anyone.’
Murder at the Bayswater Bicycle Club Page 24