by Ann Purser
EVERYONE WAITED FOR someone else to break the silence. Miriam was now scarlet, and would not meet Gus’s shocked gaze. Ivy looked at Roy, and Roy raised his eyebrows. Deirdre looked at her watch.
“Well, I don’t know, I’m sure,” she said. “Those dramatic revelations don’t seem all that important to me. Ivy met a strange man in the woods and has now, I hope, learnt her lesson. And Miriam lost and found an earring under some leaves. So where’s the relevance to our case? Come to think of it, my meeting with a strange, rather nervous man at the other end of a saxophone the other night could be just as important. He was, if you remember, asking about Katherine Halfhide, hoping not to meet her at the ball. If she had been there, I gathered, he would have done a bunk. Isn’t that worth some further investigations? If she really had intended to find him at the ball, why didn’t she show up?”
Gus found his tongue and said that Deirdre’s contribution certainly was interesting, and he, for one, was most anxious to find out what had happened to his ex-wife, if only to, um… er…
Here he hesitated, looking at Miriam, and Ivy rescued him. “Two strange men?” she said. “Seems likely that it was one and the same man. We don’t get all that many tallish saxophone-playing men here in Barrington.”
“He wasn’t playing the saxophone in the street,” Miriam said humbly.
Roy had an idea. “If I may suggest a course of action?” he said. “All three of you ladies have heard and seen this man, or these men. Was there any really distinctive thing you remember that would point to him being a sole invader in our village?”
Silence once more, and then Miriam said hesitantly, “When I saw him walk by, the moonlight was bright for a minute, and though I couldn’t see much, he definitely had a slight limp with his left leg. Definitely,” she said again, gaining confidence.
“I watched him walk over to talk to Theo, and he limped with the right leg,” said Deirdre.
“Both legs,” said Ivy, fed up with what seemed to her to be unreliable recall and a waste of precious time. She unwittingly released the uncomfortable tension in the room, and the others smiled.
“No, but seriously, Ivy,” Deirdre said, “did your man really limp?”
“Yes, he did. It was quite marked, especially when he ran off through the trees.”
“There we are then,” said Deirdre triumphantly. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
BY THE END of the meeting, they had decided on three courses of action. Deirdre would concentrate on finding out more about the saxophonist. Having listened to various conversations about the brilliant saxophone player at the ball, she was sure Theo had known him before he had turned up with Sid and His Swingers. She would get on to Theo straightaway.
Ivy was to liaise with Deirdre to establish whether the man in the woods was, in fact, the same person, though Ivy expressed strong doubts about the likelihood of a visiting saxophonist, possibly a member of the local toffs’ circle, digging holes in the nearby woods and probably involved in a badger-baiting ring. “If you ask me,” she said, “no kind of musician is going to risk damaging his hands digging like a navvy, is he?”
“Good point, Ivy,” Roy said. “And I shall help you with your investigations.”
“What about me?” said Gus.
There was a short silence, and then Ivy said baldly that if he wasn’t already answering questions from the police about the earring, he could approach his onetime gambling friends to see if they could recollect a saxophone-playing gamester. “Birds of a feather hang together,” she commented enigmatically.
“But Ivy,” said Miriam hotly. “I have explained the earring already. It’s mine, and I slipped it in my pocket when I was cleaning round the bedroom the other day. There’ll be no need to contact the police.”
“Have you got it with you?” Ivy said. “I think at least we should take a look at it. Your memory might be playing you tricks.” She had privately thought that she had never seen anyone so clearly telling fibs as when Miriam first spoke up about owning the earring. And Gus had looked like a frit rabbit when she began to speak. So perhaps the truth was that he had recognised it as his ex-wife’s, and foolish Miriam was protecting him.
“Sorry, no, I haven’t. I’ve put it in a safe place until I can match it with another the same. You can forget about the earring, Ivy. Afraid it was a red herring, and my fault.”
“Describe it for us,” said Roy. “Then we can all look out for one to match it. You never know, we might easily spot one in a junk shop.”
“Not junk!” said Gus involuntarily.
“Miriam?” Ivy persisted.
“Well, it’s got a pearl, sort of dangling and, um, oh yes, a sparkly bit somewhere. Might be a diamond, Gus thought.”
“Have you had it long, my dear?” said Roy, perfectly aware of what Ivy was up to.
“Um, several months, yes. It was a present.” Miriam couldn’t resist an embellishment but immediately regretted it.
Ivy pounced. “Who gave it to you, Miriam?” she said.
Miriam coloured deeply and stuttered that she couldn’t quite remember.
“Rubbish, girl!” said Ivy. “It isn’t your earring at all, is it? For some silly reason you think you are protecting Gus. Well, I am sure it is quite unnecessary, and in fact you are holding up our investigation. This earring is probably a very important piece of the jigsaw. For heaven’s sake, woman, tell us the truth.”
At this point, Ivy’s cat Tiddles jumped on to Miriam’s lap. She buried her face in the cat’s fur and burst into tears, at which Tiddles yowled and ran off.
Gus stood up. “I’ll go and find Katya and get us some more coffee. Don’t be upset, Miriam—it was a very kind thought.”
When Gus had disappeared, Deirdre also stood up and put her hands on Miriam’s shaking shoulders. “Come on, girl,” she said. “We value your help, and we know this was just an unfortunate blip in our investigations. Let’s forget about it.” She glared across at Ivy, and added, “We all make mistakes.”
They waited for coffee and then slowly relaxed. It was agreed that Miriam should take the earring to the police and explain exactly where and how she found it.
“You also have to tell them it was Kath’s,” Gus said. He was tired of revolving possible scenarios around in his head, featuring Kath being roughed up by local layabouts and Kath knifed in the dark night and carried lifeless into the woods, there to be buried by a saxophone-playing homicidal maniac.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he said, “I must be getting home. Whippy has her lunch about now, and I like to keep to a sensible routine for her. She’s getting on, you know. I don’t know what I’ll do when she’s gone.”
His fading words were so bleak that Deirdre impulsively sprang to her feet and put her arms around him. “Don’t worry, Gus dear,” she said, “we’ll all stand by you.”
Not to be outdone, Miriam nodded and said childishly, “And anyway, Ivy Beasley, it could have been my earring.” She had no intention of taking it to the police.
Nineteen
EACH DAY SEEMED to Deirdre to be hotter than the last, and she arrived home panting. A swim before lunch, she thought, and went upstairs to change into her swimsuit. Bert had loved the pool in the garden and said it was the best several thousand pounds he had ever spent. In his last weeks, he had found great relief in floating in the warm water, the strain removed from his aching limbs. Now Deirdre thought it should also be a good way of relaxing and thinking clearly about the morning’s work.
She brought out a canvas chair and put it beside the pool with the day’s newspaper and her spectacles, ready for when she came out of the water. A large gin and tonic and an ice bucket stood on a table by the chair, and she sighed with pleasure at the thought of a pleasant hour on her own.
She swam six lengths, then turned over onto her back and paddled with her feet, moving slowly backwards and looking up at the blue sky. Bliss, she thought. Why don’t I do this more often? I could invite Theo or Gus to keep me compan
y when I feel like it. She closed her eyes and felt the heat of the sun on her eyelids. For two pins, she thought, I could go to sleep. But maybe I would sink. Best not to try it.
Somebody cleared his throat loudly.
“Who’s that?” Deirdre said sharply, making swiftly for the edge of the pool and looking up at the man who stood there, watching her. His back was to the sun, and she could see only a looming black shape.
“So sorry to interrupt you,” he said. “You looked so relaxed and happy.”
“I was, until a perfect stranger turned up in my garden. What do you want?”
“To talk to you, if you have time. We met the other night at the ball, where I was one of Sid’s Swingers, God help me.”
“Oh, you!” Deirdre was too surprised to be frightened, and climbed out of the pool, grabbing a towel and wrapping herself in it defensively. “Well, that’s a bit of luck,” she added. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you. But first I shall get dressed. Please wait here. I shan’t be long.” She felt safer with him out in the garden. Her neighbours were working just over the wooden fence, within call. She supposed he might run off if she left him alone, but that had to be risked. If he really wanted to talk to her, he would wait.
He was still there when she returned, and she noticed her gin was untouched. “Now,” she said, “you had better sit down on that bench and tell me what you want. I should point out that I have my mobile phone here, and my friends next door are within earshot.”
He stared at her, then burst out laughing. “Good heavens, Mrs. Bloxham, I am not an escaped criminal bent on rape and pillage!”
“I should hope not!” said Deirdre, not in the least discomforted. “So come on, spit it out. I’ve got a busy afternoon ahead.”
“First of all, I must introduce myself. My name is Sebastian Ulph, and I come from Lincolnshire. The family were from Holland centuries ago and came across to drain the fens. Miles and miles of bugger-all, my father used to say, and I do agree. The only redeeming feature is the sky, which is twice as big in fenland as it is anywhere else.”
“Except the Utah desert,” said Deirdre, who had been there on an adventure holiday with Bert.
“I see you are a much-travelled person, Mrs. Bloxham.”
“Yes, well, never mind about that. Just get to the point, Mr. Ulph.”
“I am, as you know, a saxophonist and am temporarily playing with Sid and his lot. This is not really my kind of music. I am classically trained and have played in one or two of the best orchestras.”
“So what went wrong?”
“Katherine Halfhide went wrong, I’m afraid. And in doing so, she dragged me down with her. You remember I mentioned her to you?”
“For God’s sake, don’t be so melodramatic! Just say what you have to say, and leave me to get on. As far as I can see, all this has nothing to do with me. If I can help, I will, but you must cut to the point.” He was like a dog that has been chastised, his head hanging down and hands limply by his sides. Now, Deirdre, watch what you’re doing! She heard Bert’s voice as clearly as if he had been beside her.
“So?” she said impatiently.
“I fell in love with her when she was still married. She said she reciprocated my love and took me for every penny I possessed. It was not all that much, admittedly, but all I had. I’m the youngest son of a good but impoverished family, and have to make my way with little support.”
Deirdre stood up. “So you want money? Well, the answer’s no. So will you please leave now. At once.”
“I don’t want money, Mrs. Bloxham,” he said, not moving. “I understand your late husband was a skilful brass player? Played French horn in the Oakbridge Orchestral Society brass section? Quite a reputation, so I understand from Sid. All I want from you, if at all possible, is an introduction to the orchestra. I think this would give me a very useful platform from which I could proceed to an audition and hopefully a job with prospects.”
Deirdre sighed. She was well aware that here in her garden was one of the mysteries she was supposed to investigate. Handed to her on a plate, she thought. Maybe she should pursue him with the promise of help. After all, him being skint was no reason for an orchestra not to employ him. There was more to tell, she was sure. Such as why he did not ask Gus where Katherine was? But then, of course he did not necessarily know that Gus was living in Barrington. And even if he did, he would be very wary of the man whose wife he had stolen.
“Mrs. Bloxham?” He was looking anxiously at her, and she smiled.
“I may be able to help,” she said. “I still know some of Bert’s chums in the orchestra. Give me your phone number and I will let you know.”
He shook his head. “Can’t afford a phone,” he said.
“An address, then? I’ll drop you a note.”
“Sorry, but I’m here and there. Best if I call and see you again. Would a week be time enough? I really am grateful, you know.”
“That will have to do, then. I am very careful about who I admit into the house, I’m afraid. So don’t be alarmed by bolts and locks before I get the door open. And the bull terrier wouldn’t hurt a fly, but don’t tell anyone I told you.” She paused, as if in thought. “Mind you, there was one time,” she added, “when he did take several pieces out of a man who was clearly a bad lot. Otherwise…” She left the sentence hanging in the air and could see from his expression that it had had its effect.
After he had gone, she reached for the phone and dialled Gus. She told him everything that had been said, and he said approvingly that she was a bright girl. “But Deirdre,” he asked, “since when did you have a bull terrier?”
FOLLOWING DEIRDRE’S CALL, Gus postponed any action he should take for a couple of hours while he thought carefully about her revelations. Sebastian Ulph. It was a name you couldn’t forget, and he clearly remembered teasing Kath about her young admirer. That was when they were still happily married, and he had yet to discover just how little she intended to honour her vows, made with such great solemnity at the altar of her mother’s church.
Ulph was one of Kath’s many attractive young men. She loved to hold court at what she called her soirées, where they would talk about art and life but mostly gossip about their circle of friends, many of them well heeled and idle. There were other women there, of course, but the object of the exercise was a mammoth ego trip for Kath. She was, at that time, rich and beautiful and, as Gus later discovered, ruthless.
If he remembered rightly, Ulph continued to woo her after the divorce, though he had heard no more of him since then.
He did, however, remember hearing of Ulph’s determination to see himself through a degree course at the Royal College of Music, playing any kind of music at sundry functions to pay his way. All that was some time ago, of course, and Gus could only guess at the reason for him turning up in a provincial town with Sid and His Swingers. He must have been very curious to know why Gus’s fickle ex-wife should show renewed interest in him. Though not curious enough, apparently, to be willing to meet her at the ball. Not the time or the place, possibly. But he might have been keen to see her elsewhere, if he thought she was good for a handout. “If so, Whippy girl, he must be really desperate.” And then a terrible thought struck him. How desperate? Desperate enough to silence her mocking voice forever and rob her lifeless body of its jewels, dropping one earring on his flight away from the body? Had it been Ulph who passed Miriam’s house in the middle of the night on his way to the woods carrying God knows what in bags?
Gus shook himself. This was ridiculous. He was becoming as overwrought as Miriam Blake! But before he could stop it, he had a vision of Ulph hastily digging a grave in the woods and burying his victim, making it look like a badgers’ home. But Ivy had described the freshly turned mound as being some way from where Miriam found the hand. Or imagined a hand?
Gus’s brain whirled, and he felt sick. “Come on, Whippy,” he said. “Before we do anything else, we’ll go for a walk and get some fresh air. The sun’s low
in the sky now, and it should be cooler. Here, let’s put your lead on.”
As they walked out of the garden gate into the lane, Gus heard Miriam’s voice and cursed. Just when he wanted to be alone to clear his head!
“Going for a walk?” said Miriam chattily. “Mind if I come along? It’s really nice now, in the cool of the evening. Even Whippy looks more lively, don’t you, doggy?” She patted the little head. Gus saw the dog’s curled lip and hastily shortened the lead and drew her to his other side.
They walked in a reasonably peaceful silence for a short while, and then Gus asked the question he knew he should ask. “Why did you lie about the earring, Miriam? You know it wasn’t yours. It was a very silly thing to do. I have a completely clear conscience, so there’s no need to worry about me. You had better give it to me to take care of. It will be safer in my strongbox if the new owner of the other one comes looking for it.”
Miriam shook her head quickly. “I’ve lost it,” she said flatly. “Sorry. It’s gone. I’ve looked everywhere, but it’s gone. Best to forget about it, Gus.”
“Miriam! You can’t have lost it! It might be a very important piece of evidence.”
“Too bad,” she said. “Nobody will believe me now. Not them police nor any detective. They didn’t believe me about the hand. So stuff them. I’d forgotten about it already, until you said.”
“But I saw it, Miriam. And I know where it came from.”
“If you don’t say nothing, nobody will ever know about it. Except the others, an’ we’ll tell them it was all a mistake.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Gus groaned. He seemed unable to get through to the silly woman. But then, most of his relationships with women were doomed to failure. He could only hope her infatuation with him would fade and enable her to see how necessary it was to tell the truth.
“Don’t worry,” said Miriam blithely. “Let’s enjoy our walk. Maybe we could go up to the woods? Whippy loves it in there.”