No Known Grave

by Maureen Jennings

  Alfie started to scuff his feet in the dirt. “I found it, I didn’t steal it.”

  “Found what?”

  Reluctantly, Alfie reached into his right pocket. He held out his palm, revealing a tube of lipstick.

  Tyler took it from him and checked the end of the tube. CHERRY RED. Made by Coty.

  “Where did you get this, Alfie?”

  “I told you, I found it. Finders, keepers, that’s what my ma says.”

  “But where was it, specifically?”

  Alfie waved vaguely in the direction of the east gate. “Out there. It was lying by the river.”

  “When did you find it?”

  Tyler saw Alfie flinch. He must have allowed his own worry to sharpen his voice.

  “I saw it first thing this morning.”

  “Do you know who it belongs to?”

  Alfie pursed his lips. “Not one of the nuns, that’s for sure. They’re not allowed to wear war paint. Might be Daisy Stevens. She really needs it. Or maybe Miss Shirley. They’s the only two I can think of.”

  Suddenly, Tyler realized that Alfie’s pink cheeks owed a debt to the lipstick. He’d put some on his lips as well.

  “I saw Alfie with the lipstick, sir,” said Biggs. “He, er, he was applying it.”

  Alfie ducked his head. “My lips are chapped.”

  Tyler made himself take a deep breath. “Alfie, I want you and me to go to the place where you found the lipstick. Do you think you can do that?”

  “I dunno. I should get back to the kitchen. Ma will be needing me.”

  “Tell you what, I’ll have the constable go and tell your mum you’re doing important police business.”

  “All right. But I can’t be long.”

  Tyler nodded at Biggs. “Remove those crosses. Put them behind the cottage for now.”

  The constable pulled a napkin from his pocket and unwrapped it. “I did manage to procure you a piece of toast, sir.”

  Tyler grabbed the slice of bread and took a bite. “Lead on,” he said to Alfie.

  “My ma says it’s rude to talk with your mouth full.”

  Tyler swallowed. “She’s right about that, Alfie.”

  57.

  ALFIE WENT DIRECTLY TO THE GATE AND SHOVED aside the bolts. He immediately set off along the path, and Tyler had to scramble to keep up with him.

  “Follow me,” said Alfie over his shoulder as he trotted ahead. “We’ll walk like red Indians.”

  Overhanging trees leaned into the path. They were damp with dew, and as he brushed past, Tyler received a chilly shower. He kept a close eye out for any sign that Shirley had come this way last night, but he saw nothing. The woods on either side weren’t deep or extensive, but they were lush with summer and hid the surrounding fields from view.

  They continued along the path for several minutes as far as the river, and here Alfie stopped so suddenly, Tyler almost collided with him.

  “I think it was about there,” he said, pointing to a spot close to the water’s edge.

  Tyler shifted his position so he was facing Alfie.

  “Now, son, I am going to ask you an important question.”

  “Fire away.”

  “Are you positive you found the lipstick this morning? That it wasn’t here when you came some other day?”

  Alfie nodded. “That is quite correct. I’m always on the lookout for things, sir. I’ve found two sixpences before. And a half a crown from the time of Charles I.” He eyed Tyler. “You don’t want those as well, do you?”

  “No, son. You can keep them.”

  Tyler hoped that one old coin wasn’t valuable enough to be considered government property.

  He looked over at the river sparkling in the sunlight. The current was moving fast.

  “Have you ever got across the river, Alfie?”

  “No, sir. For one thing I can’t swim. For another thing, my Ma says it’s deeper than you might think in the middle. In my opinion it’s not safe.”

  Tyler gazed down at the bank, which sloped gently to the water. There was a long gouge in the grass, as if a boat had been pulled up onto the shore.

  “Alfie, Miss Shirley has disappeared. She hasn’t been seen since last night. Do you have any idea where she might be?”

  Alfie gaped at him. “She has a baby in her tummy. Perhaps she went to the hospital.”

  “I don’t think she did. I think she came here sometime last night.”

  Alfie gazed around the clearing, his expression bewildered. “Where would she sleep?”

  “That’s a good question, son. I believe she went in a boat.” Tyler pointed. “See that? Somebody pulled a boat up the bank.” Alfie crouched down and examined the earth. “I’d say you were correct about that, sir.”

  “Who has a boat that you know of?”

  “Nobody.” Alfie wrinkled his forehead. “The police will know. They know everything like that.”

  “Quite right, Alfie. I’ll make enquiries.”

  Tyler experienced a wave of what he could only call desperation. What the hell had induced a girl weighed down with advanced pregnancy to slip away in the dark and trek down here? Who had she met? Where had they gone?

  He nodded at Alfie. “Let’s go back now.”

  The other man didn’t move. He was staring at his feet.

  “Sir, I told a bit of a fib just now.”

  “Yes?”

  “I told you my lips was chapped, but that’s not true. I rubbed the lipstick on because I was pretending that Miss Shirley – Miss McHattie, that is – I was pretending she had given me a big smacker on the lips.”

  “Did she ever do that, Alfie?”

  “No. Not to me. I’m not right in the head, you see, so the girls don’t fancy me.”

  Tyler was taken aback by this honesty, but he had the feeling the poor bugger was simply repeating what he’d heard too many times.

  “You know what, Alfie, if Miss Shirley is in trouble and we find her, I would be willing to bet she’ll be giving out big smackers right and left.”

  Alfie grinned. “Let’s go on searching then.”

  Tyler turned, about to retrace their steps, but suddenly Alfie slapped himself on the forehead. “Lord help us, what’s wrong with me? For a minute, I forgot.” He stood stock-still.

  “Okay, Alfie. What did you forget?”

  “I know why Miss Shirley has taken off. She must have got a letter.”

  58.

  ALFIE REMOVED A BRICK IN THE WALL JUST BEYOND the east gate.

  “I came down here one morning for my walk, like usual, and I sees Miss Shirley. She had a note in her hand and I could see the brick had been removed.” He pouted. “She was very cross with me. ‘Are you spying on me, Alfie Fuller?’ says she. ‘No,’ says I. ‘I’m just going for my walk.’ ‘Well don’t tell a living soul that you saw me here.’ ‘I won’t,’ says I. Then she says, ‘If you tell, I’ll say you tried to rape me. You know what that means, don’t you?’ ” Alfie rubbed his head. “Now I’ve told you, sir. I hope she doesn’t go and say I hurt her.”

  “Don’t worry, son. I’m a policeman. You were right to tell me. Now, when was it you saw Miss Shirley with that note?”

  Alfie ducked his head. “I can’t remember exactly, but I’d say it was weeks and weeks ago. But there was messages all the time.”

  “Ah. Did you take a look then, Alfie?”

  “I confess I did, sir.”

  “Did you read the notes?”

  “That is correct, sir. They weren’t mushy or anything like that. Just said, ‘Meet me tomorrow, market, afternoon.’ That sort of thing.”

  “Were they signed?”

  “No. No kisses or anything either. Miss Shirley put her notes in the same spot, but I didn’t always see those. Usually she just wrote ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ or ‘can’t.’ ”

  “Did you ever see anybody else pick up the messages?”

  Alfie shook his head. “No, sir. And I only saw Miss Shirley that once. I didn’t want her to get the w
rong idea. I stayed out of her way but good.”

  “I have another important question, Alfie. Can you tell me the last time there was a message behind the brick?”

  The man clicked his tongue. “Hmm. I’m not so good with days, sir. It’s hard to say.”

  “Yesterday, for instance. Did you find one yesterday?”

  “I would say not. I don’t think I came for a walk yesterday. Ma didn’t want me out of her sight. So she said.”

  59.

  SISTER CLARISSA USHERED TYLER INTO THE NUNS’ sitting room. Martha McHattie was still in her dressing gown, her untouched breakfast on the table in front of her.

  “No news, I presume?”

  “Not exactly, but we found this.” Tyler showed her the lipstick tube. “Is this Shirley’s?”

  Mrs. McHattie took it from him and examined it carefully. Her face turned even whiter. “Could be. Coty’s CHERRY RED. She did use that sometimes. Where was it?”

  “Near the riverbank, at the end of the public footpath.”

  “I see.” She held the lipstick in her palm. She knew what the implication was. “You think she went to meet someone, don’t you?”

  He paused and looked into the fear in the woman’s eyes. “If she went freely, there’s much more likelihood she isn’t harmed.”

  “What if she fell into the river in the dark? Or got pushed in?”

  “There’s no indication of that. My guess is that she got into a boat. There were marks on the riverbank.”

  “A boat! What bloody boat?”

  “I don’t know. I’m going to have my officers search the river.”

  He waited for Mrs. McHattie to digest this information, then continued.

  “As you know we don’t have much manpower in the police force these days. If we are going to treat this as a missing persons case – or an abduction – I’m going to have to use what men I do have as efficiently as possible. If Shirley went to meet somebody, she took nothing with her. No extra clothes, for instance. She must have intended to return last night and …” He paused, reluctant to voice the thought. “For some reason she’s not able to. So I must ask you again, do you know why Shirley would have gone off the way she appears to have gone off? She was secretive about it and she took her lipstick, as if she were meeting somebody. Somebody she wanted to look good for.”

  Mrs. McHattie didn’t answer.

  “Alfie Fuller says that Shirley was hiding messages in the wall,” said Tyler quietly. “She was in contact with somebody on a regular basis.”

  “What? Alfie Fuller told you that? He’s a loony. You can’t believe a word he says.”

  “He showed me the hiding place and he claims the messages had to do with assignations. I must ask you again, do you have any idea who your daughter might have been communicating with?”

  Mrs. McHattie had collapsed back into her chair. “No, I don’t.”

  “Could she have made contact with her lover, the father of her baby?”

  She looked up, startled. “What? Of course not.”

  “Why are you so certain?”

  “I told you, he was sent overseas months ago.”

  “He might just have been stringing you all a line. Maybe he’s a cook in an army canteen.”

  She actually smiled wanly at that. “No, that’s one thing I did believe about him. He was definitely a fighting man.”

  “How did the two of them meet?” Tyler asked.

  “A dance, where else? She fell for him right away. Hook, line, and sinker. I’ve never seen a girl so mad for a bloke. She brought him home to see us the very next weekend. She’d never done that with any of her fellas before.”

  She halted, remembering.

  “And you didn’t like him?” Tyler prompted her.

  “Neither of us did. Jock kept insisting he wasn’t who he said he was.”

  “What did he mean?”

  “He couldn’t really explain, but Jock, being blind, was sensitive to people’s voices and how they talked. He picked up things all the time that went right past me. He was dead against the bloke.”

  “I understand Shirley is planning to give her baby up for adoption?”

  “Yes. It’s better that way. She’s far too young to take proper care of a babe all on her own. The almoner has said she’ll find us somebody suitable.”

  “What if the baby’s father does return and wants to marry your daughter?”

  “He should have done that before he got her pregnant, shouldn’t he? Besides, he’s a foreigner. We didn’t fancy her getting married to a foreigner.”

  “Where was he from?”

  “He wouldna say. Another secret, according to him. Spoke good English and was very polite. Too polite, in my opinion. You know the type. Butter wouldna melt in his mouth.”

  “Shirley told me she didn’t know his surname.”

  Mrs. McHattie scowled. “It probably suited him that Shirley would have a hard time tracing him. He’s most likely got an entire harem scattered around Britain.”

  “You mentioned that he was training at a special camp. Did you meet any of the others? Any of his friends?”

  “No, just him. He kept saying they was all hand-picked, cream de la cream, bloody brothers. He never said what they was picked for and I never met any of them. Why?”

  “I’m wondering if maybe one of his chums was hiding the messages in the wall for him. According to Alfie, they weren’t love letters. They were only to do with making arrangements for meetings. Did you notice any change in your daughter’s behaviour over the past while?”

  Mrs. McHattie thought for a moment. “She seemed happier, a bit less mardy. I put it down to the fact that she knew the pregnancy was almost over. But I tell you, Inspector, I doubt very much she was meeting Mr. Rudy. That I would have known. She couldn’t have hidden that from me.”

  Tyler paused. Then he said quietly, “I’m starting to think that Shirley got a message that caused her to slip away without being seen. But that she did intend to come back.”

  “A message from Rudy?”

  “Yes. Either he’s in the area or she believes he is.”

  Mrs. McHattie’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe she’d do that to me. Go off like that. Even with all our troubles, she wouldna. Not after what’s happened.”

  Again Tyler waited. Mrs. McHattie had taken a handkerchief from her pocket and she was twisting it between her fingers.

  “What do we do now?” she asked finally.

  “There is an RAF camp in Ludlow,” said Tyler. “I’ll get in touch with the commandant and see if he can help us. Rudy might be stationed here.”

  “You know what? Much as I didn’t like the fellow, I’d feel better if I knew she was with him. At least I’d know she was safe.”

  She spoke so softly Tyler could hardly hear her.

  60.

  TYLER WENT IMMEDIATELY TO THE ALMONER’S OFFICE. Sister Rebecca, matins over, was already seated at her desk. She got to her feet as soon as he entered. Her face was full of alarm and his heart sank. More bad news, obviously.

  “The post arrived early. I’m afraid you’ve got another of those letters.”

  The neat handwriting was unpleasantly familiar. He tore open the envelope. Sure enough, it contained a single sheet of paper with a typewritten message.

  She has been having labour pains for the last several hours. She and two other women, also close to their term, have been taken to the city, where she has been put in a bare and cheerless room by herself. There is nobody with her, except a hard-featured nurse who has checked for dilation. The examination is painful, but the nurse does not apologize. The woman asks for water, pointing at her mouth and making drinking gestures. The nurse either does not understand or chooses not to speak. She shakes her head. A doctor enters, old, grey-haired, bowed. His hands shake as if he is palsied or perhaps drunk. He examines her a little more gently than the nurse has. He holds up three fingers. “Soon,” he says. “Soon.” She wants to catch hold of his hand
and keep him beside her because he treats her as if she is a human being. But he leaves hurriedly and a second nurse, cap and body stiff and starched, comes into the room. Then the overwhelming tide of pain seizes her and nothing else matters. She groans. She wants to shout out but is too proud in front of these haughty women. Finally, the first nurse signs at her to push and she does, until the baby comes out into the world in a rush of blood and fluid. She half sits up in the bed, and holds out her arms for her infant. It is a boy, her first. The nurse ignores her, wraps the newborn in a blanket, and walks away. “Wait,” she cries, trying to struggle out of the bed. The other nurse’s eyes flicker at her. “Later,” she says. She knows this is a lie and she screams. The doctor comes hurrying back. While the nurse holds her down, he jams a hypodermic needle into her arm. From outside of the room, she can hear the thin wail of her newborn. She shrieks again but the drug is taking effect and she sinks into oblivion.

  The baby will continue to cry.

  “Inspector, what is the matter?” Sister Rebecca asked in alarm.

  “Take a look.”

  Sister Rebecca read it quickly. “Lord have mercy on us all.” She crossed herself.

  Tyler thumped one fist into his hand. “What are these letters about, goddamn it? Oh, sorry, Sister. Whose story are they telling?” Suddenly he grabbed at the envelope. “Shite. When was the darn thing franked?”

  In opening the letter he’d barely missed tearing off the corner, but the stamp was clear enough. Ludlow post office. Two thirty. Wed. July 15, 1942. It had been posted a day before Shirley vanished, but after Jock and Ben McHattie were shot.

  “I’d say the letters are following a definite chronology, wouldn’t you, Sister? First, the killing of the men, second the removing of the mothers and children. This third one describes a woman being taken to a hostile place to deliver her baby, which is then taken from her.”

  “Shirley McHattie?”

  “I’d say so. The parallels are too close not to be significant. But this letter was intended to reach me after she disappeared. It smacks of careful planning.”

  He told the almoner about Alfie and the revelation of the secret letters in the wall.