The Wild Wood Enquiry

by Ann Purser

  “A body,” said Ivy flatly. “More toast?”

  BY MIDDAY, THUNDERCLOUDS were gathering, and Deirdre rushed out to bring garden chairs into the conservatory. As the first drops of rain began to fall, she heard her phone ringing and ran through to answer it.

  “Hello? Oh, Gus, how are you doing? There’s going to be a storm, I’m afraid. What did you say? Oh, that was a hell of a clap! A meeting? What, this afternoon? Well, I suppose it would be all right if the storm clears away. Have you spoken to Ivy and Roy?”

  Gus said that he hadn’t, wanting to clear it with her first. He explained that he was considering going away for a week and he wondered what the others would think. The Miriam Blake case seemed to have ground to a halt, and he was not at all sure that it was worth pursuing. They really needed to have a discussion, with all present.

  “Going away? What for? And where?”

  “Can’t tell you, I’m afraid. One of those things that come up now and then.”

  Deirdre sighed. “Oh, Gus, not that old thing! I thought we’d left Gus the Secret Agent behind us now. It’s much more likely that you don’t want to have anything more to do with a case involving your ex-wife. That’s quite understandable, you daft old thing! No need to go away. Just leave the rest to me and the two oldies. Anyway, I’ll give Ivy and Roy a buzz and see if they’re free. Be here at two o’clock, unless you hear to the contrary.”

  AROUND TWO, THE skies cleared, and the air was fresh, washed clean by the sudden storm. It was cooler, and Ivy and Roy set out from Springfields in a much happier mood. Deirdre had given them no details about this meeting, apart from saying that Gus had called it.

  As they walked up the drive to Tawny Wings, Ivy remarked that it was looking its best after the rain. The tall hollyhocks had withstood the heavy shower and stood unbowed by the front door. Deirdre was there to welcome them, and Gus hovered in the background, looking worried.

  “Come on in,” Deirdre said. “Can you manage the stairs again, Roy?”

  He was tempted to answer that given a shot of Miriam’s primrose wine, he could leap over the moon. But, glancing at Ivy’s stern face beside him, he thought better of it.

  When they were settled, Gus cleared his throat and began to speak. “Sorry about the short notice, folks, and thanks a lot for coming along. The thing is, I am feeling in need of a break.”

  “I thought you had a top-secret mission,” Deirdre said.

  “That too,” said Gus. “And to continue, as we seem to be getting nowhere on Miriam Blake’s case, I am planning a week or so away from the village. A long way away. I wanted you all to know now so that any lingering difficulties regarding the missing hand and the lost earring can be dealt with before I go.”

  There was a shocked silence, and then Ivy spoke. “When do you propose to go, and where can we get hold of you if something urgent comes up?”

  Gus replied that he planned to travel on Monday, and asked how likely was it that something urgent would come up? As far as he could see, they had no reliable facts to investigate. And where was the crime? Originally, Miriam had wanted the missing hand investigated, but she herself had muddied the water there. Was it actually in the woods in the first place, and given that Rose Budd had seen something, had it been a severed hand from a dead body? And then it had disappeared, and every time Miriam talked about it, it assumed a different description. Severed or not? A deathly white or a faded yellowish colour?

  “But what about your wife, Gus? I don’t wish to be alarmist,” said Deirdre mildly, “but she does seem to have disappeared without a word. And why did she come here in the first place, when she knew she would not be welcome. And again, what did Miriam Blake say to her to cause her to do a bunk, if that is what she has done?”

  Gus hung his head. “Kath was always doing things for no reason at all,” he muttered. “I don’t think there’s much for us to investigate there.”

  Another silence, then Deirdre continued. “Gus, why did you go rushing home and then back again on that day I asked you to lunch? Did you go to see Kath? And wasn’t it the day she disappeared?”

  “Of course not!” he replied crossly. “The less I saw of her, the better. I thought you all realised that. I went home to feed Whippy. What are you suggesting, Deirdre? That I went home, strangled Kath and buried her in the woods, dropped her earring and got back here in time for lunch?”

  His face was red and angry, and he got to his feet.

  “Sit down, Gus!” said Ivy, in a new, powerful voice. “Deirdre is only suggesting what others, meaning the law, might come up with. There is obviously much more to discuss, and I suggest we break for a cup of tea. Will you oblige, Deirdre? And Gus, you might like to take a turn round the garden. But be back in here in ten minutes.”

  Deirdre and Gus left the room, and Roy turned to Ivy. “Has our Deirdre loosed a cat among the pigeons, my dear?” he said. “This will take a bit of sorting out.”

  Twenty-three

  WHEN THE MEETING reconvened, Gus found himself at the receiving end of a barrage of awkward questions. These mostly came from Deirdre and were on the subject of his relationship with his ex-wife, Kath. He protested that his private life was his own affair, but Deirdre would not leave it there. She said that since Kath’s disappearance and failure to reestablish contact, it was now very important for Gus to think carefully about his conversations with her and prepare an accurate account of his movements since she vanished.

  “Why?” said Gus, desperately trying to avoid Ivy’s gimlet eyes. “I had very little to do with her. She stayed with Miriam. And anyway, why does it matter? She’s probably somewhere miles away, living in the lap of luxury at someone else’s expense and giving no thought to any of us. She obviously made a quick getaway before poor Miriam could ask for her lodging money. She didn’t pay her, you know.”

  “The reason, Augustus,” said Ivy, in measured tones, “why you need to listen to Deirdre, is that Kath might turn up at any minute, not living in the lap of luxury and possibly not living at all. In plain English, the woman might be dead. Her earring was found in the woods, and who knows, there may be a hoard in there, buried out of sight until it could be collected.”

  “So?” said Gus defiantly.

  “So, you are known to have hated her and equally well known to be hard up. You returned to the Row, supposedly to feed Whippy, around the time when she could have been abducted, hidden away or”—she hesitated—“murdered.”

  The others were speechless, and Gus stood up, shoving his chair back with a thump. “How dare you, Ivy!” he said. “I have had more than enough of this. I thought I was among friends who trusted me, but I see I was mistaken. I hereby resign from Enquire Within. I have personal things to sort out and shall be out of reach as from Monday. Do not try to get in touch.”

  Ivy shrugged her shoulders and said she had merely pointed out a few facts and would say no more.

  It was Roy who came to the rescue, as he had a number of times in the past. He reached out his hand and took hold of Gus’s sleeve. “Sit down, old chap,” he said. “I am sure Ivy meant no harm and may even have intended to help you by pointing out a dangerous situation that could occur in the future, for which it would be prudent to be prepared. Please sit down, do, dear man. We are all your friends here, and friends stick together. And if Kath does turn out to be alive and well, we shall all be delighted.”

  “Well said, Roy,” said Deirdre. “Whatever happens, Gus, we shall support you in every way we can.”

  Gus took a deep breath. “I haven’t bloody well done anything!” he exploded. Then he sat down and wiped his hand across his eyes. “Anyway,” he said in a calmer voice, “thanks, Roy, for your vote of confidence, if that’s what it was. Ivy?”

  Ivy nodded. “Never had any doubts,” she said.

  “Deirdre?”

  “Of course, you old silly.”

  “And Roy,” said Gus. “You are a boon and a blessing to men. Thanks, my friend.”

  Twenty
-four

  GUS WALKED TOWARDS home, head down and lost in thought. He pondered ruefully on the fact that of all the tight situations he had been in, this last meeting at Tawny Wings was the worst. He had been right, he realised, to have chosen Ivy Beasley to be his ally in forming Enquire Within, but little had he thought she would turn against him. Not that she had done so now, not completely. But her old face was severe with suspicion, and it had not entirely cleared when the meeting ended.

  “Penny for ’em, Gus!” It was his darts chum, James from the shop, delivering groceries on an old-fashioned errand-boy bike. He had announced to the village that this was part of his contribution to the battle against global warming. Everyone would have noticed, he had added, how much healthier he had been from the exercise and fresh air. “Oh no, no thoughts worth a penny, really,” said Gus. “Just considering the never-ending puzzle of womankind.”

  “Blimey, that sounds serious! Has our Deirdre given you the boot?” It was well known in the village that Deirdre Bloxham entertained two close friends, and one of them was Gus.

  “Don’t even suggest it,” said Gus, with a smile. “I am persona non grata with my colleagues at the moment. So much so that I am planning a week or so’s holiday to escape.”

  Naturally James thought he was joking, but there was truth in Gus’s words. He had been developing a theory about what had happened to Kath, but it was too unsupported at present and might easily come to nothing. He intended to keep it from the others. It was this theory that involved going away, and he had already made plans to follow it up.

  The one big snag was Whippy. He could not take her with him, and he was unwilling to allow Miriam to have her for two weeks. The last thing he wanted was to be beholden to Miriam Blake and submit himself to her questioning. It might have to be boarding kennels, but first, he could not afford the exorbitant charges, and second, he hated to think of Whippy in a small concrete cell, released for a run twice a day in a bare enclosure with assorted fellow boarders.

  He could not believe his luck when he heard James’s next question. “What are you going to do with Whippy? Is Miriam having her? If not, you know I am only too pleased to look after her. She can help the cat hunt for mice in the storeroom and come with me on my twice-a-day runs. How about it, Gus?”

  This was such a wonderful offer, coupled with no need to answer any of James’s questions except the last, and Gus grabbed at the opportunity. He agreed that he would bring Whippy round to the shop in due course, together with her bed and baggage.

  They parted amicably, and Gus strode home with his head held high. He would book a taxi to get him to Thornwell for the earliest train to London on Monday morning. He had a small qualm about deserting Ivy and Roy, and Deirdre, but then he remembered their unfriendly questioning and cheered up. Let them stew, and see how they could get on without him!

  IVY HAD TRIED but failed to put the drama of the meeting behind her and told Roy she was going for a stroll on her own to do some serious thinking. He was concerned and suggested he could accompany her in total silence, if necessary. Then, if some mishap occurred, he would be beside her. “What do you mean by mishap? I am perfectly capable of dealing with anything likely to threaten me on a stroll around the village. And when you are with me, I just cannot think of anything else but how much I love you.”

  Roy gasped, and sat up very straight in his chair in Springfields lounge. “Oh, Ivy!” he said. “Do you really mean that?”

  “No, not really, my dear one, but it is the only way I can think of getting you to agree to my going out alone.”

  Roy recognised stalemate and was relieved to see Miss Pinkney coming towards them, bearing Tiddles, Ivy’s small black cat.

  “Ah, Miss Beasley, would you take Tiddles to your room? We have a new prospective resident coming in to have a look at us, and she is bringing a cat-eating dog. Her words! I am sure we shall be able to arrange something, should she decide to come here, but meantime I cannot be responsible for the safety of Tiddles.” She deposited a squirming cat on Ivy’s lap and departed quickly.

  “Well!” expostulated Ivy. “Tiddles was here first, and I shall have to consider my position very carefully if a cat-eating dog is allowed!”

  “So you won’t be going out, then?” Roy looked hopefully at her.

  “Yes, of course I shall. You can sit in my room and guard Tiddles. Much better than guarding me from imagined disasters!”

  So Roy sat in Ivy’s room and watched her determined figure walk purposefully down the High Street and vanish into the village shop.

  “GOOD AFTERNOON, MISS Beasley. How are you today?” James was not always pleased to see Ivy, as more often than not she had a complaint, but it was near the end of the afternoon and the shop was empty.

  “As well as can be expected from someone threatened by a cat-eating dog,” she said sharply.

  “Not Tiddles!” said James, duly shocked.

  “Not yet,” said Ivy, pursing her lips. “A possible resident with dog coming to Springfields,” she said.

  “Not fond of dogs, Miss Beasley?”

  “In their place, dogs are bearable. But I could not tolerate having to be constantly vigilant with my Tiddles.”

  “I suppose you are used to a kind, gentle sort of dog like Whippy? Gus is never seen without her.”

  “Huh! Even Whippy can be smelly at times.” Ivy sniffed. “The man is quite besotted with her.”

  “Well, he’s leaving her with me for a week. As you will know, he is holidaying where he can’t take her, so he’s entrusting her to me.”

  Ivy thought rapidly. “Of course, yes,” she said. “Now, let me think, where is it he is going? France, is it?”

  James shook his head, well aware that Ivy was fishing for information. “I don’t think he told me where, exactly. I expect it is abroad, hence leaving Whippy with me. Now, Miss Beasley, what can I get you? Your usual chocs?”

  IVY LEFT THE shop and headed on towards the church. She had checked with the parish magazine and knew that it was Rose Budd’s turn to do the flowers. It would be the ideal quiet time to ask her a few questions.

  Sure enough, Rose was surrounded by greenery and cut flowers, happily arranging them in the font, on the stand by the altar, on windowsills and anywhere else she could fit in a posy. She loved flowers and was never happier than when arranging them. The Women’s Institute always chose her as its representative in countywide competitions, and Rose had a shelf full of cups and trophies as reward.

  “Good afternoon,” Ivy called from the church door. “Am I intruding, Mrs. Budd?”

  Yes, you are, Rose wanted to say, but she was a nice girl and instead welcomed Miss Beasley with warmth. “Lovely afternoon for a walk,” she said. “How is Mr. Goodman?”

  Ivy sat down in the front pew and placed her shopping beside her. “He’s cross with me at the moment,” she said cheerfully. “He is a dear and always wants to be with me, but sometimes a person needs to be alone, don’t you think?”

  Rose said a heartfelt yes and turned away to anchor an unruly chrysanthemum.

  “How are your family? Quite recovered from all that t’do about a severed hand in the woods? Your neighbour, Miss Blake, has a fertile imagination, as I am sure you’ve discovered.”

  Rose turned back to look at the black-clad figure in the pew. She’s like an old crow, she thought. “Oh no,” she said. “The hand was there, all right. I saw it myself. Horrible, it was, at the time. We didn’t stop for a second look and beat it out of the woods as soon as possible! O’course, as you no doubt know, when Miriam went back, it had gone. Fox took it, probably. My David says they are like magpies and take things. Mind you, I never heard that before, and I reckon he made it up to set my mind at rest. So, yes, we have forgotten all about it. When you have two young sons to look after, there isn’t much time for dwelling on such things!”

  My, thought Ivy, that was a long speech. Did young Mrs. Budd have something to hide?

  “And now,” continued
Rose, “if you’ll excuse me, I must get on with these flowers. It’s a benefice service on Sunday with all those people from other parishes coming over and criticising my arrangements and dropping hints about their own superiority! Some folk!” she added finally, and walked away.

  Dismissed, thought Ivy, and rose to her feet. She walked slowly to the door, opened it quietly, and left Rose to her flowers.

  Twenty-five

  THE GOOD WEATHER lasted for the next two days, and Sebastian Ulph sat drinking red wine from an unwashed glass on his improvised rooftop terrace. The sun was hot, and church bells were ringing, reminding the people of Thornwell that it was the Sabbath. He felt happily secure from interruption. It was unlikely that his brief appearance in Barrington woods would still be remembered. Old people’s short-term memories were often unreliable. By old people he meant Miss Beasley, whom he had later recalled as an old lady living in Springfields, where the band had played to entertain the residents. He guessed she might have recounted her experience to friends, but he was sure they would have considered him a poacher and dismissed him from their thoughts.

  But what friends? There had been talk among fellow musicians of an enquiry agency in Barrington. During their refreshment break at the hunt ball, they had, as usual, discussed the likely female talent, including the blonde debs who all looked alike to Sebastian. The exception had been the squire’s lady, one Deirdre Bloxham, and all had agreed that she was very tasty. She was, they had heard, part of the enquiry agency team based in an old folks’ home in the village. Old folks? Just coincidence, surely.

  Well, he could do without enquiry agents of any age on his track, although under other circumstances he would certainly have pursued the attractive rich widow he had admired emerging from her pool. He had put in some spadework there, mentioning an introduction to the town band. Now he had to lie low, let time pass, and wait for his opportunity to collect from Katherine. His current priority was to work out and rehearse until he was word perfect what he would say to her. She had always been able to out- argue him, but this time he meant to win.