Johnny Swanson

by Eleanor Updale

  There were two thuds on the desk. Bennett had thrown down a couple of packets of money. ‘There you are. Not a bad piece of work, eh? The whole batch gone. You were right, Marie. We can hook in customers every way. We can play on them as rebels who want something illegal; or as social climbers after something no one else has got; or as anxious parents worried that their babies might get sick. I tell you, by the time I’ve finished with them, they’re scared not to buy it. I could do with those leaflets you promised me, though. I need to make the medical details more convincing. Some people prefer things in black and white.’

  ‘Here they are,’ said Mrs Langford. ‘It’s word-for-word what they say in France. She declaimed the first sentence grandly: ‘Faites préserver vos enfants contre la tuberculose par le vaccin BCG … Save your children from TB with the BCG vaccine. I’ve copied out the whole thing – except for this bit here, of course.’

  Bennett read out a sentence in a schoolboy French accent. ‘Délivré gratuitement par l’institut Pasteur sur demande du médecin ou de la sage-femme.’

  Mrs Langford translated it for him: ‘Delivered for free by the Pasteur Institute at the request of a doctor or midwife.’

  Bennett laughed, but Howell was serious.

  ‘It should be free,’ he said. ‘I never wanted to charge for it.’ Bennett groaned as Howell continued, ‘This doesn’t feel right. I only helped Dr Langford because he wanted to save lives, and now we’re exploiting people.’

  Johnny was beginning to work out what was going on. Perhaps he’d been wrong about Howell. Maybe he had never meant to get involved. It was Bennett who was at the heart of the sales scheme, and Bennett was so clever that he was even giving Howell and Mrs Langford some of the takings so they would share his guilt.

  But Johnny shuddered when Mrs Langford’s voice broke in, with a sarcastic ring. ‘Forgive me, Doctor, but I don’t see you turning down your share of the proceeds. And why are you so high-minded about human life all of a sudden?’ Johnny heard her pick up a glass jar from the desk. ‘Look at this, Bennett,’ she hissed. ‘When you came in, our saintly friend, the doctor, was preparing to kill somebody!’

  ‘I told you. I don’t want to know about that,’ said Bennett. ‘I’m off.’

  Johnny heard Howell step aside, blocking Bennett’s path to the door.

  ‘Don’t go yet,’ said Howell. ‘I want to know what to do about the boy.’

  ‘I’ve told you what to do,’ said Mrs Langford. ‘We haven’t any choice.’

  ‘But won’t someone come looking for him?’ said Howell. ‘Maybe he told someone he was coming here.’

  ‘Will you stop worrying!’ said Mrs Langford. ‘He’s alone, I’m sure of it. And better still, he’s told me that the police won’t listen to him. Even the boy himself is convinced that I was in France at the time of the murder. That letter you made me write seems to have done a good job, Bennett.’

  Johnny was trembling in his hiding place, sure now that he and his mother were both doomed. He was still trying to make sense of what Mrs Langford was saying.

  Dr Howell was bemused too. ‘What letter?’ he said. ‘What have you two been up to behind my back?’

  ‘Don’t be so dramatic,’ sneered Bennett. ‘We haven’t been keeping anything from you. We had to do something to fill in a few gaps. It was our own fault. We didn’t think things through properly at the beginning, when you made the Langfords come here in such a rush …’

  ‘I had to,’ said Howell. ‘The culture wasn’t growing properly. I needed Dr Langford’s help, or we’d never have got the vaccine going.’ He sounded close to tears. ‘But neither of us wanted to sell it. It was just you two!’

  ‘But you’re in on it now, Howell,’ said Bennett. ‘You’ve already supplied the stuff, and now you’ve given me more.’ He tapped his parcel. ‘How will you explain this to the police?’

  ‘They’re not going to worry about that when I tell them how Dr Langford died!’

  ‘You—’

  Johnny heard the sound of a punch, a groan and a scuffle as the two men fought.

  ‘Let me go!’ screamed Howell, whose arm had been bent behind his back by Bennett.

  Mrs Langford leaped up from her chair. ‘You’re not going to tell anyone anything, Howell!’ she cried. There was a demonic chuckle behind the menace in her voice as she asked Bennett, ‘What do you say, Frederick? Shall we do away with him too?’

  Howell was struggling against Bennett’s grip. ‘No! Don’t! I’m not going to talk. Anyway, what could I say? I wasn’t even there, was I?’ His voice became muffled. Bennett had a hand over his mouth now. Johnny could hear Howell trying to shout. He was kicking too, trying to break away. Great blows from his feet thundered against the desk, and into Johnny’s backbone.

  Johnny could see Mrs Langford’s feet pacing round the desk. She tormented Howell as he squirmed against Bennett’s grip. ‘You know, you’ll be much more useful to us dead than you’ve ever been alive,’ she said. ‘It’s true, there’ll be no more vaccine, but we’ll be able to split the money we’ve already got two ways instead of three.’

  Bennett picked up her drift. ‘You’re right, Marie. And if we’re ever caught, we could say it was Howell’s idea to sell the vaccine, and not yours at all.’

  Johnny was stunned. So Mrs Langford was the mastermind. He had been completely taken in by her pretence of friendliness. He didn’t want to believe it, but somehow it made sense. He knew that the Langfords had been hard up. Mrs Langford had even sent off for Make Your Money Go Further. And then Johnny felt a new twist of panic. To his undercurrent of terror was added a sickening wallop of guilt and regret. He was having another clong. He remembered showing Mrs Langford the Umckaloabo advert. He recalled asking why Dr Langford couldn’t sell the BCG vaccine in the same way, and how the doctor had criticized Chas. H. Stevens, of Worple Road, Wimbledon, for making money by playing on the anxieties of the unwell. Had Johnny unwittingly given Mrs Langford the idea which had led to her husband’s death and Winnie’s arrest? Could she have thought up the whole scheme, and chosen Bennett to be her salesman? After all, as she herself had told Johnny when they’d talked in the theatre, the best customers were rich people: people who would keep quiet because they had a lot to lose if they were discovered. Bennett moved in those circles, and Mrs Langford had known him since he was a child. And Johnny knew that Bennett needed cash too. He’d said as much when he’d joked with Inspector Griffin about the pile of bills on his desk. Johnny thought back to Remembrance Day, and Bennett’s earnest conversation with Mrs Langford at the service. Then there’d been the sudden news that Bennett was invited to the Langfords’ for supper. If the plot had been hatched that day, it would explain how unprepared they were when Howell had phoned during the meal to say that he needed Dr Langford’s help.

  Mrs Langford carried on taunting Dr Howell, whose shouts were still muffled by Bennett’s grip. ‘I really can’t think of any reason to keep you alive, you know,’ she said, with an air of exaggerated calm. ‘It must be worrying for you. What a pity you can’t move your arms. You could nibble those nails of yours even shorter. Maybe even make them bleed.’

  ‘Come on then, woman, let’s get it over with,’ said Bennett, as Howell squealed and grunted. ‘I can’t hold him for ever.’

  Johnny pictured Mrs Langford advancing on Howell with the loaded syringe.

  Suddenly Bennett swore. Howell had bitten his hand and twisted out of his grip. Johnny heard more bumps and thrashing as the two men jostled with each other, lashing out and cursing. Howell threw Mrs Langford across the room, and Johnny stifled a gasp as one of her high-heeled shoes rolled under the desk, only inches away from him. He heard her pulling herself up again, panting. Then she let out a bizarre shriek and Dr Howell gave a desperate cry of resistance that was strangled into an agonized gargle, a wheeze and a cough. His rigid body thumped against the desk and onto the floor next to Johnny. Everything was still.

  In the theatre, twelve chimes rang out as
Cinderella ran away from the ball.

  Chapter 41

  COVER-UP

  Johnny could sense frozen panic in the room.

  Bennett spoke first. ‘It’s all right. It’s all right,’ he repeated as if trying to reassure himself. Then his tone shifted from distraction to resolution. ‘I’m going,’ he said.

  ‘Take me with you,’ said Mrs Langford, with a breathy coolness. ‘Let’s leave now, while there’s no one around.’

  ‘No. Someone would come looking for you. I couldn’t risk having you in the car. The panto’s nearly over. We wouldn’t have time to get far before the body was discovered. We might even meet the police coming the other way.’

  ‘Then stay. Stay and help me talk my way out of this. I can say that Howell attacked me, and you fought him off. We could make it look like self-defence.’

  ‘No, I’m getting out of it. No one knows I’ve been here. There’s no reason for me to be mixed up in this at all.’

  Mrs Langford barred the door. Her tone had turned from pleading to menace. ‘Unless I say something. After all, Howell’s not around now to keep an eye on me. There’s nothing to stop me telling everyone that you killed my husband.’

  ‘Is that a threat?’ Bennett sounded panicky.

  Mrs Langford kept her spiteful calm. ‘Take it how you like. I’m simply being practical. We’re in this together, that’s all. Keep your head, and we can come up with a story that puts us both in the clear.’

  ‘How are you going to explain the poison? Isn’t it a bit fishy that it just happened to be to hand?’

  ‘I’ll say Howell brought it with him. To kill me. To shut me up because I knew he killed Giles.’

  There was a pause. When Bennett spoke, it sounded as if he was happy to go along with the plan. ‘You should look a bit more roughed up,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to play the victim a bit. A sweet little lady in the power of a homicidal brute.’

  ‘Don’t worry. Being a quiet, kind old woman is my speciality.’

  Exactly, thought Johnny. I was certainly taken in.

  Bennett and Mrs Langford stood in silence. Johnny was terrified that they would hear him breathing, and felt a rush of relief when the band in the theatre started playing ‘Happy Days Are Here Again’ and all the children in the audience joined in, filling the room with song.

  ‘Maybe we should raise the alarm,’ said Bennett. ‘That’s what you’d do, isn’t it? If you’d really been attacked?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll call the police,’ said Mrs Langford, limping round the desk to reach the phone.

  Johnny’s heart sank. If she got through to the operator, Mrs Langford might find out that the police were already on their way. She might panic. She might run. She might dive under the desk to find her shoe. She might see him. There might be some poison left in the jar, and Johnny knew now that she was not afraid to use it.

  Mrs Langford lifted the receiver and dialled the operator. A second later, she had dropped the phone. It swung to and fro across the mouth of the footwell. Johnny could hear the woman through the earpiece, shouting out, ‘Hello … Hello … Hello?’

  They were the same words used by one of two policemen who had just entered the room.

  Johnny was flooded with joy. His earlier call to the operator hadn’t been ignored.

  Mrs Langford kept her creepy calm. ‘Oh, Sergeant … and Constable … Thank goodness you are here,’ she said, trying to conceal her bewilderment at their arrival.

  Bennett took charge. ‘This poor lady has been the victim of a savage assault,’ he said. ‘She was lucky I arrived.’

  Then the door opened again and Johnny heard Olwen’s voice: ‘Johnny, are you in here? Mrs Langford? I’ve brought Professor Campbell.’

  ‘What the devil …?’ said the policeman as everyone else in the room gasped in unison.

  Johnny was feeling exactly as he had back in Mr Bennett’s grand house, hidden under the big fur cloak. He could stay hidden and wait for a chance to run away, or he could show himself and intervene in the action. At Bennett’s, fear had got the better of him. Now he took courage. He uncurled himself and shuffled out from under the desk. Everyone was paralysed – looking the other way, towards the door. And Johnny found himself just as aghast as they were. For there, holding Olwen’s hand, was a six-foot-tall man with grotesquely rouged cheeks, wearing a multi-layered crinoline dress, hooped earrings and a fluffy blonde wig.

  The senior policeman, with a deep Welsh voice, spoke for everyone. ‘Will somebody please tell me what on earth is going on?’

  Chapter 42

  ARRESTS

  ‘I can explain!’ said Johnny, and everybody turned to face him.

  ‘Johnny!’ gasped Mrs Langford. ‘Where did you come from?’

  ‘I’ve been under the desk,’ said Johnny. ‘I heard everything. Officer, you must arrest that woman, and Mr Bennett too. They haven’t been telling you the truth.’

  ‘But Johnny,’ said Olwen, ‘you told me Mrs Langford was in danger. It looks as if you were right.’

  ‘No. I was wrong,’ he gabbled. ‘She killed Dr Howell. And Mr Bennett here, he killed Dr Langford.’

  Bennett made a move for the door, but Professor Campbell opened his giant pantomime fan and blocked his path. ‘This is preposterous,’ said Bennett. ‘I don’t have to stay here and listen to the incoherent ramblings of a deranged child!’

  ‘I think you’d better stop where you are, sir,’ said the sergeant calmly. I’m sure we can get this cleared up.’ He turned to Mrs Langford. ‘Madam, perhaps you can enlighten us?’

  Mrs Langford took a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her eyes. ‘It’s as I said just now. Dr Howell attacked me, and Mr Bennett came to my rescue.’

  ‘No!’ cried Johnny. ‘It wasn’t like that. She killed Dr Howell, and she was going to kill me!’ He pointed at Bennett. ‘And he killed Dr Langford.’

  ‘No he didn’t,’ came a voice. ‘That’s not quite right.’ Everybody froze as Dr Howell’s body began to stir. He sat up and spoke. ‘It’s all right. I haven’t come back from the dead. I was only pretending. It seemed safer than letting myself be knocked about by those two thugs.’ Howell pulled himself to his feet and seized the jar of liquid from the desk, hurling its contents into Mrs Langford’s eyes. ‘Did you really think I would murder a child? Did you really believe this was poison? You sick, depraved woman. Officer, she’s your murderess!’

  ‘But you’re not dead,’ said the sergeant in confusion. ‘There is no victim.’

  ‘Yes there is,’ said Howell. ‘Not me, Officer, but Dr Giles Langford, this woman’s husband. She killed him. She’s admitted it to me a hundred times, threatening to do the same to me unless I went along with her plans. And this man’ – he pointed at Bennett – ‘this man has forced me to hide her from the law.’

  Johnny was stunned. Mrs Langford, a murderess? ‘But she’s an old lady,’ he cried. ‘Old ladies don’t kill people! She loved her husband. He loved her. She can’t have killed him.’

  The sergeant interrupted. ‘And where is the body – this Dr Langford?’ he asked.

  ‘Buried. In Stambleton, before Christmas,’ said Howell.

  ‘And my mother is in prison, charged with the murder,’ said Johnny. ‘And she didn’t do it!’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Professor Campbell. ‘What has all this got to do with Craig-y-Nos?’

  Dr Howell tried to explain. ‘It all started when I took on some … some unconventional work for Dr Langford …’ As the constable struggled to take notes, Howell told the story of how Langford had hoped to develop the BCG to do good, and how, in a panic on Remembrance Day, he himself had asked Langford to come to Wales to help him. ‘I wasn’t expecting Mrs Langford to come too,’ he explained. ‘I didn’t know that she and Bennett had a very different plan for the vaccine.’

  Mrs Langford interrupted. ‘I had to come. I knew that if my husband was near a sanatorium he wouldn’t be able to stop himself wandering around, chatting to
people and hinting at what he was doing. I had to make sure he stayed in Howell’s cottage. I knew he couldn’t keep a secret. He’d even told that boy!’

  Professor Campbell was struggling to keep up. ‘You mean to say you’ve been cultivating a vaccine here? In our laboratory?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Howell. ‘But at first my involvement was purely scientific. I was never happy about the idea of selling it.’

  ‘So why didn’t you tell someone what Bennett and Mrs Langford were planning?’ asked the professor.

  ‘I was scared,’ said Howell, hanging his head. ‘I’m ashamed to admit it, sir, but I was frightened. At first it was bad enough that I might ruin my career, but by the time I found out they wanted to sell the vaccine I knew that Mrs Langford had already killed once, and that Bennett had looked on while she did it. And I was right to be careful. Look what they tried to do to me when I finally crossed them!’

  The sergeant, overwhelmed by the welter of information, opened his mouth to ask a question, but Johnny got in first.

  ‘But why was Dr Langford murdered?’ he said. ‘You said he knew nothing of what his wife was up to.’

  ‘Nothing until that final night,’ said Howell, ‘when I thought he was safely back in Stambleton. We’d finished here. The first batch of vaccine was a success, and I was sure I could carry on without Dr Langford’s help. When Bennett came to collect him and his wife from my cottage to drive them home, I thought he was acting as a generous friend, not as a conspirator. They all left in good spirits.’

  The policeman tried to intervene again, but Mrs Langford turned on Bennett. ‘And you couldn’t resist it, could you, you fool? Everything would have been all right. We were safely home. Giles would never have suspected a thing. But you had to boast about the money. You had to go and break his heart.’

  ‘But you’re the one who broke his head!’

  The two policemen held Bennett and Mrs Langford back as they flew at each other.

  ‘You know how angry he was,’ Mrs Langford yelled at Bennett. ‘You saw the fury in his eyes when you told him what we’d planned.’