The Wild Wood Enquiry

by Ann Purser

  “Women!” said Gus to Whippy, who jumped all over him as if he had been away for weeks instead of nights. “Now the lovely Deirdre has taken the huff, and I shall have to eat humble pie in large quantities to crawl back into her favour.”

  Whippy rolled over onto her back, and Gus tickled her. If only it were that easy with women! Just roll them over and tickle their tummies.… Well, he supposed it was worth a try and went to take a shower, ready to walk athletically up to Tawny Wings.

  ROY AND IVY had hidden themselves in the summerhouse, away from the bright morning sun, and Mrs. Spurling’s strictures. “If she reminds me once more about punctuality,” said Ivy, “I shall give in my notice and find another more congenial prison.”

  “Shall I be included?” Roy said.

  “Of course. You and me are one, aren’t we?”

  “Not yet,” said Roy. “But soon.”

  “Tomorrow,” said Ivy, and Roy brightened hopefully.

  “Tomorrow,” repeated Ivy, “we will fix a date. We’ll have a guess at when this particular enquiry will be sewn up, and then we will book the church.”

  “Wonderful,” said Roy, taking her hand. “Let’s put all our energies into solving the case of the severed hand at once.”

  “And don’t forget the disappearing earring,” Ivy said, smiling. “Now, when are we going to tell Gus and Deirdre that we have useful background information on Mr. Sebastian Ulph, who resides at number seven Folgate Street, Oakbridge?”

  “As soon as possible, if our wedding date hangs on solving the case.”

  “Very well. I shall telephone them, and ask them to come here for a meeting this afternoon. Remind me to ask Katya to bake some cakes to put Gus in a good mood.”

  “Me, too. That young lady has a rare talent. Cakes as light as a feather are not easy to come by. Please God she never again thinks of taking up Roussel’s offer to join him, not in matrimony nor as housekeeper at the Hall.”

  “No fear of that,” said Ivy cheerfully. “I believe she has a new boyfriend. Came to call for her yesterday. Nice looking young chap of her own age.”

  “Perhaps we could have a double wedding at Christmastime?” suggested Roy. “What a wonderful celebration that would be!”

  “Calm down, dear,” said Ivy. “The lad is a law student, and it takes half a lifetime to become a barrister, which is apparently what he plans to be.”

  “Ah, well, never mind. Come to think of it, I don’t want to share our day of days with anyone but you, Ivy Olive Beasley.”

  They hugged, and Mrs. Spurling, coming around the corner to summon them for coffee, for once had the sensitivity to retreat quietly back into the house.

  Thirty-five

  “I’VE ASKED KATYA to bring our tea out here,” said Ivy. She and Roy had again taken up residence in the summerhouse, which, with tall sycamores shading it most of the day, was pleasantly cool.

  Deirdre subsided gratefully into a canvas garden chair, and fanned herself with her straw hat. “It’s not British,” she said. “We just aren’t used to long periods of hot weather in the summer. I shall be glad when it rains again. Proper rain, not just a quick storm with the blackbirds and thrushes singing their hearts out as if we’d had a good soaking.”

  “Poor Deirdre!” said Roy. “Would you like some iced tea?”

  “As a matter of fact,” said Ivy, smiling, “I have already asked Katya to bring us iced tea this afternoon, with cream cakes for a change.”

  “Ivy! And just when I have started a new diet!”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, girl,” said Ivy. “Why do you think you’ve got so many admirers? Nice, plump widow—”

  “With a nice fat bank balance,” finished Deirdre, laughing. “But how comforting you are, Ivy. I can’t wait for our treat.”

  When Gus had arrived, also complaining of the heat, Katya appeared with a tray of tea and cakes as instructed. “I hope you will enjoy this,” she said proudly. “Bill thinks I make the best cakes in the world.”

  “Who is Bill?” Gus said sharply. “Not your pet name for him up at the Hall, I trust?”

  “No, no. Bill is my boyfriend. He is studying the law and is very serious and nice. Mrs. Spurling approves and says I can go off duty now to meet him in town. His parents are visiting, and he wishes to introduce me.”

  When she had gone, Ivy said that it was clear love was in the air, what with Katya and Bill and she and Roy, and Deirdre and sundry admirers.

  “And me?” asked Gus.

  “We really must get on,” said Deirdre. “Now, Ivy, are you going to tell us what is so important? Gus and I are all ears.”

  Ivy started the story at the point where she hailed Ulph as he walked into the coffee shop. “He looked surprised but came and sat with us. We talked generally, but it was obvious he was not going to give us any details about himself. Roy and he got on like a house on fire, talking mostly about cows.”

  “His father bred Dexters,” explained Roy. “He was a nice chap, I thought, but sad. I don’t know what was wrong, but he talked nostalgically about his days on the farm. Didn’t want to talk about music, though, and actually denied being the man who had played with Sid at Springfields. Silly, really, since Ivy remembered him clearly, not only playing the saxophone but also helping her in the woods.

  “Did he admit to the woods?” asked Gus.

  “Oh yes. He teased Ivy, calling her Maid Marian.”

  “So he was definitely your Green Man?” Deirdre said.

  Ivy nodded. “Brightened up a lot when we talked about that. Mind you, he wouldn’t answer any direct questions. But when it was time to go, he walked along with us until we reached Market Street, then he turned down there and we lost him for a minute.”

  “Ah, but tell them what you did next, Ivy,” said Roy.

  “I followed him. Well, we both did. We kept out of sight among the market crowds and finally caught up with him where he’d let himself into one of those tall houses in Folgate Street. Number seven, it was, and quite dingy-looking. Then we walked back to our taxi driver, and he was worried because we were late, and when we got here, our luck was in. La Spurling was off duty, and Pinkers was waiting for us with a beaming smile and plates of ham salad.”

  “So, as you see, we now know that the Green Man, the saxophonist and Deirdre’s swimming pal are one and the same man. We still have to identify the man with supermarket bags outside Hangman’s Row late at night, but since that was our Miriam’s evidence, well, you know, moonlight and all that.” Roy sat back in his chair and folded his hands across his stomach. “And that, Ivy Beasley, was the best afternoon tea I have ever tasted.”

  “Well done, you two,” said Deirdre admiringly. “So I suppose you had a good talk with him over coffee? Did he give you any clues about why he is living here? Or why he gave up playing with Sid? Did he explain why he said he was going to France and then didn’t go?”

  Ivy bristled. “I have already told you, Deirdre, that he was very cagey about giving information. The minute we tried to ask him personal questions, he clammed up or changed the subject.”

  “He was quite forthcoming about his father, though,” Roy interposed. “He’s now dead but was a gentleman farmer and very keen on rare breeds. I got the impression that being a musician was not his father’s idea of a proper job.”

  “So what next, Ivy?” Gus could not quite concentrate as he should on the meeting. He had received a message on his phone, apparently left the evening before, and his mind repeatedly returned to it. Kath had said in her haughtiest voice that she meant all the things she had said but needed to complete something she had started in Oakbridge and Barrington. He was to take no notice if he saw her. As far as she was concerned, they were complete strangers and would remain so. She did not know how long she would be in the village. He had already decided not to mention it to the others, wanting nothing more than to get Kath out of his life for good.

  “Gus? What did you say?” Ivy leaned towards him. “You’re muttering a
gain. Speak up.”

  “Sorry, Ivy. I asked what we were to do next.”

  “Visit Mr. Ulph, and continue our friendly chat. Me and Roy have phoned the coffee shop and asked the waitress to give him a message this morning, saying we’d like to call on him next time we’re in town. He goes there most days, apparently, and they confirmed what we already knew about where he lived. We shall root him out to have coffee with us. We’ve thought of a good excuse. Roy’s got a book about rare breed cattle, and we’ll give it to him. Then we’ll ask him to come with us to the café for a chat about it. That should do the trick.”

  “But why are we so interested in him?” Gus said.

  “Think, lad!” said Roy. “It all happened in the woods. Miriam and friend saw the hand, and I believe they did see something like a hand, buried in the leaves. Ivy saw Ulph the Green Man with a spade. Though we can’t start digging on private land, he obviously could. Or didn’t care about trespassing. It could have been to do with badgers but, then again, might have been something more sinister. Miriam found a valuable earring near where they saw the hand. It doesn’t take too much savvy, old chap, to see why we need clarification from Mr. Sebastian Ulph, does it?”

  There was silence for a minute or so, and then Deirdre cleared her throat. “I think I might be able to help,” she said, and the others looked at her with relief. “As you know, Theo Roussel is a friend of mine.”

  Gus spluttered ice cream into his saucer in an attempt to resist commenting.

  “He was also a friend of Ulph’s late father,” continued Deirdre. “I don’t know how much he can tell us about Sebastian as a young man, but it will be worth asking. He might come up with something. And it is always possible that Sebastian might appear again for a swim, in which case I shall be ready for him. When he’s in the pool, I could steal his clothes and refuse to return them until he tells me what on earth he’s up to around here.” And then she looked expectantly at Gus.

  “And you, Gus, what will you do?” she said in a distinctly cool voice.

  “Bide my time, Deirdre love. I have a feeling trouble is on its way to me, so I do not intend to go looking for it.”

  Thirty-six

  AFTER TEA, IVY and Roy retired to Ivy’s room to plan their Oakbridge visit in order to beard Ulph in his den. They had decided to waste no time but booked a taxi for tomorrow morning, giving themselves plenty of time to walk through the marketplace to Folgate Street.

  The phone rang, disturbing a pleasant moment’s silence. “Yes?” said Ivy. “Who is it?”

  “I am sorry to bother you, Miss Beasley, but there is a call for you from Mrs. Rose Budd. Do you wish to take it?” Katya’s precise English always made Ivy smile, and she said that yes, she would certainly take the call. She wondered why Rose could be calling her. Something to do with the missing hand?

  “Hello, Miss Beasley. Sorry to disturb you. Do hope you weren’t having a little snooze?”

  “Good gracious me, no!” answered Ivy. “I don’t believe in wasting time sleeping during the day. Now, what can I do for you?”

  “I was hoping I could pop up and see you for a few minutes. I have something to show you, and it is rather confidential.”

  “Come now, at once,” said Ivy briskly. “No time like the present. See you in ten minutes?”

  “Oh, thank you! That will give us time to have a chat before I fetch the boys from their friend’s house.”

  Ivy replaced the phone and smiled at Roy. “Guess who?” she said.

  “Rose Budd,” said Roy. “I’m telepathic.”

  “No you’re not, you just eavesdropped, you awful man. Well, anyway,” Ivy continued, “it was indeed Rosebud, and she is coming up here to see us. Should be here any minute.”

  “Did she say what she wanted?”

  “No. Just said it was confidential. So we must wait and hope it has something to do with our enquiry.”

  Mrs. Spurling was back on duty in the office when Rose appeared, asking for Miss Beasley. “Is she expecting you?” Mrs. Spurling said. “Miss Beasley and Mr. Goodman have retired for a quiet time after tea. I like all my residents to have this opportunity for rest without being disturbed.”

  “She’s expecting me,” said Rose flatly. Who was this old bag and what did she think Springfields was? A royal residence?

  A figure appeared at the top of the stairs. Ivy had heard their voices and now smiled warmly at Rose and said she was to come up straightaway. Mrs. Spurling managed a small sentence of welcome, and then accompanied Rose to the foot of the stairs.

  “We shall all be requiring a glass of sherry as soon as possible, thank you, Mrs. Spurling,” Ivy said, and, taking Rose’s hand, disappeared into her room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

  Roy struggled to his feet and shook the hand that Ivy relinquished. “How nice to see you, my dear,” he said in his kindly way.

  Rose relaxed and could not remember why she had been so nervous. She sat down as instructed, asked polite questions about the health of Ivy and Roy and then began to fumble in her handbag. She produced a small package of tissue paper and slowly unwrapped it.

  “I found this in the woods, when I took the boys for an adventure at the weekend. We often go there and I tell them the Babes in the Wood story. They love it, until we come to the bit about the gingerbread house and the witch, and then I have to make sure we’re in a sunny clearing or on the way home. Otherwise they see witches behind every tree! I must say I had a fit of the shivers when I realized we were near where we found the hand. But I believe in laying ghosts, and banishing bad memories.”

  By now she had finished unwrapping, and Ivy saw an earring. As Rose held it up, she saw a pearl drop and a tiny stone that she was sure was a diamond. The sparkling fire in it was unmistakable.

  “Good heavens, where did you find it? I mean, whereabouts in the woods?” Ivy was already sure that this must be the pair to the one Miriam found and claimed she had lost.

  “Well, funnily enough, it was where that horrible hand turned up. I am sure this wasn’t there when me and Miriam first saw the hand. But you know what it’s like in the woods. Animals turn the leaves over, looking for insects and things. Actually, it was my son who spotted it. He wanted to keep it, but I made him put it in my pocket, and then luckily he forgot all about it.”

  “Didn’t you think of giving it to Miriam? We understood that you wished to have nothing more to do with the mystery.” Roy spoke very gently and saw the colour rise in Rose’s face.

  “That’s true,” she said. “But this looks to me like a valuable earring, and, well, I wasn’t sure what Miriam would do. I decided she would more than likely go to the police, and David would be very cross if they came poking around again. So I thought you would be more sensible, Miss Beasley, and deal with it without that happening. At least, I thought it was best. Miriam is quite an impulsive person,” she added.

  “Quite right,” Ivy said. “So now, Roy, what do you think we should do.”

  “I suspect you have already decided, beloved,” he said, and winked at Rose.

  “Well, yes, of course. I would say leave it with us, Rose. We won’t mention your name unless we have to. The thing is, I think we know where the other one is. Your son’s sharp eyes may very well have found something valuable. So thank you, dear, for bringing it here. You did the right thing, didn’t she, Roy?”

  Roy said that, as usual, Ivy had talked a lot of good sense.

  “SO, SHALL WE tell Gus that we’ve found the matching earring?” Ivy said, after Rose had gone. “I am certain Miriam still has the first one. Silly woman thinks she is protecting Gus from suspicion. But now we know Katherine is safe and well, that lets him off the hook, doesn’t it?”

  “Depends what happens when we winkle out Ulph and find out what he was burying in the woods,” Roy said. “A pity we can’t just take a digging party and look for ourselves. But with so little hard evidence, I think we’d get short shrift if we asked permission from Roussel, or David Budd
, come to that. I suppose we could ask Gus to do a little surreptitious investigating? He has permission to take Whippy into woods and around other parts of the estate. He needn’t dig deep. If there is anything, it’ll have to be near the surface to be collected again. Possibly by Ulph. I think Ulph is a very worried and unhappy chap, and he may well come out with the whole story to us.”

  “You mean because he thinks we are a daft old couple and wish him well?”

  Roy frowned. “That is ticklish, Ivy,” he said. “I really took to Sebastian Ulph and believe that he may have done something stupid but not necessarily criminal. I should feel bad if our investigations resulted in some undeserved punishment for him.”

  “It sounds as if the really tough person in all this is Gus’s Katherine. He certainly hurried back from Scotland in a funny mood. He’s bound to know more than he’s telling us. Maybe Deirdre can entertain him with food and strong drink and get something useful out of him.”

  Roy sighed. “It is unfortunate that Enquire Within should be investigating one of our own team,” he said.

  “Well, we’re not, are we? Gus is one of us, and he may know a few things he’s not telling us, but I suspect he plans to do so when he has sorted out his relationship with that woman. And by ‘that woman,’ I mean Katherine.”

  “So shall we ask Gus to come up on his own, show him the earring, and see what he suggests? I have a hunch that it might encourage him to be more forthcoming.”

  Ivy blew him a kiss, and smiled broadly. “I love your hunches, Roy Goodman,” she said.

  Thirty-seven

  IVY AND ROY decided to walk down to Hangman’s Row in the cool of the evening and see if Gus was at home. They had had an excellent early supper and now moved along at a steady pace through the village.