Barney reached over to the display cabinet in the alcove next to the fireplace. From it he took a silver flask and into his cup poured a measure of liquid. He took a gulp of the mixture of cocoa and what Lucy realised was whisky, having caught a whiff of it. It came as a shock despite what Agnes had said in her letter. ‘For my nerves,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘Isn’t this cosy, lovey?’
It was. The firelight flickered on the furniture and the curtains were drawn against the cold dark night. A lamp glowed in a corner, but Lucy didn’t feel at ease. What had gone on between him and Blodwen was very much on her mind but she knew bringing it up was beyond her. ‘I can’t stay more than a couple of days, Barney. I’ve explained why so I won’t repeat myself.’
‘Bring the old people here,’ he surprised her by saying as he poured more whisky into his cup. ‘Can’t live much longer can they? You ask them. If they won’t come then you’ve done your duty and can wash your hands of them. If they come and they die, your problem’s solved. Life and films are full of problems with people. You think you’ve got rid of one and another pops up. I’ll show you the cinema tomorrow and you can tell me what you think.’ He began to beat out a tune on the arm of the chair, humming to himself.
He’s ignoring what I’ve said, thought Lucy, and could see what Agnes meant. It was pointless trying to explain further. In the morning she would get up and be out before he was moving – he seldom got up early – visiting the Register Office.
* * *
‘A Mrs Green who married a ship’s engineer called Daniel O’Neill, you say?’ The clerk looked up from the open ledger on the table before him.
‘Yes,’ said Lucy wearily. She had been searching for ages but had found no marriage registered in the last few years between a Mrs Green and a Daniel O’Neill. Perhaps she had it all wrong and was wasting her time. ‘I’ve been to Gambier Terrace and found nothing. That’s why I’ve come here.’ She had looked back as far as 1923 and even asked herself could they possibly have been married in Ireland but she didn’t want to consider that. If Mrs Green had lived in Liverpool it was more likely she had married in this city.
‘Sailors sometimes get married at sea, you know,’ said the clerk.
Was that possible? Lucy groaned inwardly. It sounded plausible for a woman whose husband had owned a shipping line and whose would-be husband was a rebel and a sailor and probably of no fixed abode. But how was she ever to find out where they lived if they had married at sea?
‘What d’you need the information for?’ asked the clerk.
‘An address,’ she said, pushing back her hair from her forehead. ‘I need to find out where Mr and Mrs Green once lived. He was a shipowner.’
‘Kelly’s Directory,’ said the clerk instantly. ‘It’ll give you names, occupations and addresses of private individuals, as well as business addresses.’
Lucy leaned towards him and gave him a dazzling smile. ‘Where will I find one?’
‘Try the library. They’ll probably have back years as well as the latest one.’
Yippee! She wasted no more time but thanked him and left.
Every table in Everton Library was occupied. Maybe that was because it was freezing outside and although not exactly hot in the library, it was better than being at home for people needing to conserve precious coal.
Lucy balanced the heavy directory for 1923 on her braced arm and chest as she turned the pages. Eventually she found what she was looking for: Joshua Green, shipowner, address in Newsham Drive. She wanted to jump up and down with excitement but she didn’t, and of course the ex-Mrs Green might not be living there now. Lucy had discovered while perusing the directory that names of streets and roads were given in alphabetical order, as well as people’s names being listed separately. If she looked up the address in the latest directory she should be able to discover who lived in Joshua Green’s house a year ago. She could feel her heart beating as she found the latest directory and turned to Newsham Drive. Her finger ran down numbers and names – and yes! There it was: Mr Daniel O’Neill, ship’s engineer. With a sense of jubilation she slammed the book shut.
‘Shhh!’ A man put a finger to his lips and then pointed to a sign that read SILENCE. She mouthed ‘Sorry!’ and replaced the directories in their proper places and hurried out.
Lucy felt like rushing off to Newsham Drive immediately but was hungry so decided to go back to Northumberland Terrace and have something to eat first.
‘So there you are, girlie,’ said Barney as she entered his apartment. ‘Where’ve you been? There was yolk on his chin. He was having an extremely late breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausages and fried bread. She thought several children could have dined on half of what he was eating. It was no wonder he was getting fat. ‘For a long walk, having a look in the shop windows,’ she said casually, pouring herself a cup of tea.
‘I should get an automobile,’ he said, speaking with his mouth full and spitting out bits of food. ‘I’ve seen women driving. You could drive me around.’
Now driving a car would be fun, thought Lucy wistfully, but he’d only get fatter if he had no exercise. Still, no point in arguing with him. She had discovered that yesterday.
‘You given anymore thought to working for me? Like to manage my cinema? Come and see it once I’ve finished breakfast. There’s work needs doing on it, but for the price the owners were asking that’s to be expected.’
Lucy hesitated and then decided to tell him what she had really been up to, but before she could speak he pointed his fork at her. ‘You’ve been up to something! You haven’t seen Rob again, have you? That young man’s got it in for me,’ he growled. ‘Suspicious! That’s what comes of being a policeman. They never take people at face value. He’s always taken an interest in you. I remember when you were a kid and lost your cart. He made sure you got wood and found the cart for you. I don’t want to go losing you to him after all this time.’
Lucy’s heart lifted. Hadn’t she wondered not long after she had recovered the cart if Rob was the mysterious policeman who’d delivered her it. But right now that thought had to be put aside. ‘I haven’t been with Rob. I’ve been trying to discover Shaun O’Neill’s whereabouts. It bothered me you wanting to kill yourself because of him.’
Barney put down his knife and fork, his mouth working. ‘So what have you found out?’ He looked scared.
‘He has a brother and I’ve found out where he lives,’ said Lucy triumphantly. ‘I’m hoping he can tell me where Shaun is.’
Her stepfather looked even more scared and, reaching into a pocket, pulled out his silver flask and took a swig from it. ‘You can’t go looking for him unarmed. He’s dangerous.’ There was a pause. ‘I know where there’s a gun.’
What! Lucy stared at him, dumfounded.
‘Nothing for you to worry about,’ he said hastily. ‘It was Winnie’s. It belonged to her father who fought in the Boer War. She felt safer having it with her when she collected the rents. And I’d feel happier if you had it with you while looking for that swine who killed your mother.’
Lucy did not know what to say. Her mind was in a whirl. What he’d said about Winnie sounded believable, but even so…
Barney’s bottom lip jutted out. Picking up his knife, he dug it into the tablecloth. ‘Don’t you care about your mother’s death anymore? Don’t you want justice for her? Perhaps you’d rather go to the police – run to Rob - but that Shaun’s a crafty one. They haven’t managed to catch him so far. You do it, girlie. They’ve made a mess of it so far, haven’t they?’
Lucy couldn’t deny that but why hadn’t he mentioned Winnie’s gun before? Where had he kept it? The police must have searched the house.
Barney pushed himself to his feet, startling her. ‘I’ll get it,’ he said, breathing heavily. ‘You can make the decision what to do with it yourself.’ He left the room.
Immediately Lucy breathed more easily. What was she scared of? He wasn’t going to hurt her. Even Rob believed that.
Barney returned with a g
un. ‘Hold out your hand!’ he ordered. Reluctantly she did so. The gun was heavy and her hand shook as she remembered holding Mick’s gun and threatening him with it. If she had left it alone he might still be alive. ‘I don’t want it. It frightens me.’
‘It’s no use being frightened.’ Barney’s voice trembled. ‘You must take it with you.’
It occurred to her that her stepfather was as frightened of it as she was. ‘No!’ She held it out to him but he refused to take it back, crossing his arms and tucking his hands beneath his armpits.
‘You must! It’ll make me happier if you have it with you. Think of your mother. I don’t want what happened to her happening to you.’
Lucy cleared her throat. ‘Is it loaded?’
He barked a laugh. ‘Of course it’s loaded! What use is a gun if it isn’t loaded?’
She nodded and decided to take the gun with her. She would go to Rob and tell him everything. ‘You be careful now,’ said Barney as she made for the door. ‘Just take off the safety catch and point it at O’Neill then pull the trigger. It’s as easy as that.’
No, it wasn’t as easy as that, thought Lucy, swallowing a lump in her throat. It hurt to be thinking what she was about Barney and it didn’t make sense. There seemed no reason why he should have killed Winnie.
Lucy went to Rob’s flat but there was no answer. She was so disappointed that for a moment she just stared at the door, wanting to cry. Then she went back down the yard and noticed this time his motorbike was missing. Where had he gone? She thought for a moment, wondering if perhaps she should go to the bridewell and hand the gun over to the police. Tell them of her suspicions. For a moment she gave it serious consideration but then a little voice in her head said, Barney trusts you. He gave you the gun. He’s never hurt you. Besides, do you want to have to speak to Peters with his sly smile or any of the others? He’ll have told them about taking you to Rob’s flat.
She made up her mind to hand over the gun only to Rob. She would find Daniel O’Neill and his wife first and see what she could find out about Shaun. Surely she wouldn’t be putting herself into any danger by doing that?
Chapter Twenty
The house fronted the expanse of Newsham Park. A gravelled path flanked by rhododendrons wound round the side of a large red-brick porch where a ship’s bell swung from a wrought-iron hook. Lucy rang it and when there was no immediate response, lifted the knocker and banged it.
There were hurrying footsteps and the door was opened by a grey-haired, bony-faced female of indeterminate age, dressed in a maid’s uniform. ‘Who are thee? I’m busy. If thee’s come to ask how Miss Rebekah – or should I say Mrs O’Neill these days – is, then she’s been delivered of a girl and both have survived the ordeal!’
This torrent of information was so unexpected Lucy did not know what to say, but as the maid went to close the door Lucy jammed her foot in it. ‘Hang on! It’s her husband I want to see.’
The maid glared at her and said grimly, ‘Thee doest, dost thee? I knew it! He’s been up to something. Too good looking for his own good. Thee’s not expectin’ are thee?’
Who is this dragon? thought Lucy, amazed. ‘I’ve never met Mr O’Neill in my life!’
‘Then why dost thee want to see him?’ She sniffed and looked down at Lucy as if she’d crawled from out of a stagnant pond. ‘We don’t generally have young women calling here.’
Lucy drew herself up to her full height. ‘That’s none of your business.’
‘It is if you want to get past me.’
Lucy had never thought she’d have any difficulty in getting into the house. Five years ago she might have, she thought, when she was desperate and broke, but not these days! She looked respectable now even if she wasn’t really. ‘Is he in?’ she demanded.
‘Who’s asking?’
‘My name won’t mean anything to him but you could mention Callum McCallum. They were in Ireland together and we-we’re sort of related.’ Not quite true but it would do.
‘And your name, miss?’
‘Lucy Linden.’
The maid slammed the door and Lucy shot back as it threatened to take off her nose. Then she crept forward again and put her ear to it. She could not hear anything so leaned against the door, looking across at the park where there were kids playing football. A horse-drawn coal delivery truck was making its way up the road and she could hear the putt-putt of a motorcycle engine nearby.
The door opened and she would have fallen backwards into the hall if she hadn’t been steadied by a hand to her back. She gasped a thank you and once firmly on her feet looked at the man who’d caught her. He seemed vaguely familiar and she presumed he was Daniel O’Neill. He didn’t look particularly pleased to see her. ‘What can I do for you, Miss Linden?’
She straightened her hat and cleared her throat. ‘I wonder if you could tell me where your brother is?’
He hesitated. ‘Why do you want to see him?’
‘He was a friend of my uncle’s. I-I wouldn’t be disturbing you if it wasn’t important – and congratulations by the way on the baby – but I need to sort something out with Shaun. Something only he has the answer to.’
Shaun’s brother stared at her and she felt uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny. ‘You say you’re sort of related to Callum McCallum?’
Lucy nodded. ‘I know you were in prison in Ireland with him. I spoke to him only yesterday.’
‘Is he well?’
Lucy smiled. ‘He looks it. And your brother?’
Daniel O’Neill did not return her smile. ‘Come in, Miss Linden. My brother’s staying with us at the moment.’
The gun in her handbag felt extra heavy as Lucy followed the Irishman. Her heart was racing as he led her along a passage and into a room at the back of the house. Warmth hit her and her gaze went first to the gas fire set in the fireplace and then to the man lying on a sofa reading a newspaper. ‘That’s a helluva draught, Danny,’ he said, looking up.
Lucy recognised him and was swamped by a tide of emotion: anger, fear, disbelief. She needed air and moved over to the french windows.
‘Who’s this?’ said Shaun, eyeing her up and down.
‘You might have forgotten me but I’ve never forgotten you,’ said Lucy in a low, impassioned voice. She opened her handbag and took out the gun, pointing it at him.
Both men froze. ‘What is this?’ said Daniel, eyes fixed on the gun. ‘You’re not really going to use that, are you, Miss Linden?’
She swung the gun in his direction. ‘I don’t know yet but you’d best not make me nervous. I just want to know what your brother’s done to my mother, and if I’m satisfied with his answer I won’t shoot him.’
Shaun gabbled, ‘I haven’t done a bloody thing to your mam! Why should I? I don’t remember anyone called Linden!’
‘Is murder so easy that you’ve forgotten us?’ Lucy’s voice trembled. ‘Look at me! Remember my Uncle Mick? The house in Court 15 off Bostock Street?’
The sound of the ship’s bell rang through the house but none of them heeded it.
Lucy saw the sudden realisation in Shaun’s face. ‘I haven’t bloody touched your mother, girl. Why should I?’
She was baffled. He sounded genuinely surprised but then he could be putting on an act. ‘Be-Because we knew things about you that could put you in prison. Mam disappeared at the beginning of the year and—’
‘Miss Linden, my brother is not responsible for your mother’s disappearance,’ said Daniel, cutting through her words ruthlessly.
She swung the gun in his direction, could see he was tensing himself, ready to take a chance and spring on her. ‘I wouldn’t try it, Mr O’Neill, if I were you. Uncle Mick taught me how to shoot,’ she lied.
‘I’m not going to do anything,’ said Daniel softly. ‘You see, my brother finds it difficult getting around since his leg was amputated.’
Was this some trick? thought Lucy, and shot a glance at Shaun’s legs.
‘You can come and knock on w
ood if you like,’ he sneered. ‘Think you’re so clever, don’t you? If your mother’s gone missing then look elsewhere. Now put that bloody gun away, you’re making me nervous.’
Lucy would have enjoyed firing off a round in his direction for all the times he’d made her nervous but she might scare the new mother and her baby overhead, and besides there were no bullets in the gun. So instead she went over to Shaun and did the next best thing. She hit first one leg with the gun – he yelped – then the other. There was a thunk. So it was true. She placed the gun in her handbag and looked apologetically at Daniel O’Neill. ‘I’m sorry to have disturbed you. I really shouldn’t have threatened you.’
‘How about a cup of tea?’ he said, taking her arm. ‘Or something stronger if you like? We could wet the baby’s head.’
Lucy was amazed by his calmness. She was shaking like a leaf in autumn. If Shaun hadn’t killed her mother, then Barney must have.
Daniel took her into the kitchen where there was a woman and a little boy. A batch of drop scones stood on a wire rack cooling. ‘This is Janet our cook and my son David. This is Miss Linden.’ Daniel must have noticed her eyeing the scones because he said, ‘Are you hungry?’
Lucy nodded.
Daniel’s eyes twinkled. ‘Hungry work gearing yourself up to kill someone. Not that I think you’d have done it. Help yourself.’
At that moment the back door burst open and Rob stood there in motorcycle gear, goggles pushed up. ‘Lucy!’ he said, staring at her.
‘Yes. What are you doing here?’ She would have gone over to him and flopped into his arms if the room had been empty.
‘Who’s this?’ said Daniel, frowning.
‘Name’s D.C. Rob Jones.’ He inclined his head. ‘I’m looking for your brother. He’s wanted for questioning over an attack of a policeman in Liverpool two years ago.’
Daniel stared at him for several moments, an impatient expression in his eyes, before saying, ‘My brother couldn’t have attacked anyone in Liverpool that year. He was in Ireland.’
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