The Wild Wood Enquiry

by Ann Purser

  “We can sit on the stairs. Come on, you at the top and me on the bottom. Then you can be sure I won’t push you down.”

  Gus stared at her, and noticed her sharp intake of breath. “Kath?”

  She slumped down on the bottom stair and put her hands over her eyes. “Christ! What did I say? Oh Lord, Gus, I didn’t mean him to go over the edge.…”

  Gus’s heart was beating wildly now, and he stepped over her hunched figure to the next step. He put his hands on her shoulders, and said, “Go on. There’s more to tell, isn’t there. And no lies this time, Kath. Just the plain truth.”

  She was quiet for what seemed to Gus like ages. Then she began to speak in a small, almost childlike voice.

  “Seb was not a bad person,” she said, and in her heart she knew that her future life now depended on convincing Gus that she was telling the truth.

  HEAVY CLOUDS WERE massing over the woods, and Miriam strode along, glad that she had put on wellies and a rainproof jacket. It was cooler now, and there were densely thicketed parts where the sun did not penetrate, and so never warmed up.

  She knew every inch from childhood and was sure she would be able to find Gus. He had looked so alone, walking off down the road, even though Whippy was his companion. A dog, however intelligent, could not replace a warm, caring human being. There could be no harm in following him, just in case he got lost. Spurred on by this thought, Miriam began to sing.

  “WHAT ON EARTH is that noise?” said Katherine. She had recovered from her tears, and she and Gus sat in silence after she had told him a convincing story in such detail that he had nothing to say until he had digested it.

  “Sounds like someone singing,” he said now. “And I have a feeling I know who it is.”

  “Who? Not a musical policewoman, surely?”

  “Don’t be silly, Kath. Though I’m afraid you must expect the police in due course. No, I think it’s Miriam Blake. You remember, the one who lives next door and gave you a bed for the night?”

  “Ah, that one. Do we want to hide?”

  Gus sighed. He longed for Deirdre, clever, straightforward Deirdre. “No, of course not. Miriam has a good heart, and I have no reason to be unkind to her.”

  “Oh my God! Gus Halfhide with a conscience! Whatever next?”

  “That’s enough, Katherine. Let me pass, and I’ll speak to her.”

  Miriam had now arrived outside the cottage and was staring at the open door. Gus walked into the garden, and Whippy followed.

  “There you are!” said Miriam, with a big smile. “I came to rescue you. I was sure you’d get lost on your own. Are you snooping? That cottage has been empty for years. Must be a wreck inside. Are you ready to come home, love? It’ll soon be dark.”

  At this point, Kath appeared in the doorway and leaned against the frame. “It’s not that bad inside,” she said in a gruff voice. “I am the new tenant.”

  Miriam stared. It was the same youth she’d seen with Theo up at the Hall. Who was he? And what on earth would Gus want with him?

  “Must go now,” Gus said, anxious to avoid a confrontation. “I’d be glad of a guide back to the village, Miriam.”

  He turned to Katherine and said he would be in touch. But not soon, and not for long. She looked at him oddly, but nodded and went inside, shutting the door behind her. Gus joined Miriam, with Whippy now on the lead, in case she should wander off again.

  “Who was that?” Miriam asked. “We saw him outside the Hall that day. He looked so familiar, but I couldn’t place him.”

  “Just somebody who’s taken the cottage on a short let. Now, which way do we go?”

  They were nearing the place where Deirdre had found the rubber glove, and Gus decided it was time to put an end to speculation on that score.

  “By the way, there is some good news. Mrs. Bloxham and I were walking in the woods and saw something that looked exactly like a whitish, dirty hand, covered with earth and hidden by brambles. We got it out and realised it was an old rubber glove, and nothing more sinister than that. It was close to where you had seen it. Badgers and rats and all kinds of animals push around in the undergrowth looking for things to eat and could easily have buried it again.”

  “And the earring?” said Miriam. “I still have it, you know.”

  Gus frowned. “I thought you’d lost it?” he said.

  “I found it again,” said Miriam blandly. “How do you account for that being in the woods?”

  “I have its pair. I can only think my ex-wife put them in her pocket and they dropped out in the woods that day she spent around here, after she left your cottage. I believe earrings can get painful, is that right?”

  “So my case is solved? I must say I’m rather disappointed. I was thinking in terms of a dismembered body at the very least! Anyway, that’s just my fevered imagination, as you would say. Thanks, Gus. I’ll send a cheque to Ivy Beasley—or give one to you? Who’s the boss of Enquire Within?”

  Gus laughed. “That’s a tricky question,” he said. “We have never actually appointed one. I think Ivy considers she is, and the rest of us go along with that. Now, here we are. Thanks again, Miriam. I’d certainly have got lost without you.”

  His voice was so sweet, Miriam thought. And he is definitely much more friendly now. Her spirits rose, and she hummed her favourite song as she unlocked her cottage and went into the kitchen to prepare a sandwich.

  Gus’s mood, on the other hand, darkened considerably when he was alone in his cottage. He poured himself a whisky and sat down to consider everything that Kath had told him. According to her story, her calculations and contacts had revealed where Ulph was living and she had gone there in order to persuade him to hand over her jewellery. She reckoned she could win a battle of wits, and since it would be a case of both sides revealing secrets to appropriate authorities, she had arrived at Folgate Street well armed with evidence against him.

  “We had a drink on the roof terrace,” she had told Gus, as they sat on the stairs. “Not really a proper terrace. Just a flat roof on top of an extension. No guardrails, or anything like that,” she had added pointedly. “That’s when he foolishly hinted to me where the stuff was hidden. Never was good at keeping secrets, our Sebastian. I suppose he thought I’d never risk digging around to find it.” Her smile was chilly.

  After that, she confessed, the arguments had begun. Ulph had had a wine bottle at his side and was drinking steadily. He had stood over her with it in his hand and threatened her with it. She had tried to get around him and go back into the house, but he had dodged and shoved, and in the end they were close to the edge. He had swung the bottle at her, and the action had taken him over to his death. He was very wobbly from some unnamed illness. She had sobbed again at this memory but not for long. And in due course Miriam had come along.

  So glib, thought Gus now. Perfectly worked out. Kath the innocent victim of a drunken blackmailer. Why, then, the need for disguise? And not just a false moustache or a concealing hat. No, Kath had, as usual, not done anything by halves. She really looked like a man, and though the voice was a bit strained, she sounded like one. Miriam had been deceived and suspected nothing.

  It was Miriam’s question about who was boss at Enquire Within that finally decided Gus what he should do next. He was one of four. They were an agency, and the others had a right to know. He would call an emergency meeting tomorrow, and put the whole thing before the others. Ivy, certainly, would have strong views on where to go next.

  Fifty-one

  “HE SAID AN emergency meeting,” Ivy reminded Roy as they prepared to leave for Tawny Wings next morning. “Sounds as if he has discovered something interesting.”

  “I do hope so,” said Roy. “The poor chap has looked very miserable lately. I think his ex-wife has become a heavy burden for him to carry.”

  “Specially after years of them not communicating. One thing I promise you, Roy dear. You’ll have no such trouble from me. Once we’re married, it’ll be like we’re stuck togeth
er with superglue. Not a chance of unsticking me! Beasleys are known for it. A vow is a vow, and made in the sight of God.”

  “Thank goodness for that, dearest! Have you had any thoughts of retiring from Enquire Within once we’re wed?”

  “Heavens, no! We’ll still be here, stuck in Springfields. You’re not suggesting we take up bingo and EastEnders, are you? No, no. Enquire Within will go from strength to strength. Ah, now, here we are. Gus has arrived already, I see. Looking out of the window, waiting for us, bless him.”

  There were solemn faces all round as Gus began to tell them what had happened. His chance encounter with Katherine dropped like a bombshell in their midst.

  “You didn’t know she was there? Honest?” said Deirdre.

  Gus shook his head. “I had no idea, and actually I think she was pretty taken aback seeing me. But in a way, it gave her no chance to brush up her story. At least, so I think. I can never be quite sure of Kath, I’m afraid.”

  “No matter, lad,” said Roy. “Carry on, and may I suggest no interruptions until Gus has finished what he has to tell?”

  Deirdre shrugged. “All right with me,” she said huffily.

  Gus had had time overnight to sort out Katherine’s emotional outburst and gave them what he hoped was a factual account of what had happened on the rooftop. “And so she fled in panic, leaving Folgate Street without anyone seeing her, she said. But Mrs. Feather had let her in, and she decided all evidence gained by police would point to her. Which is why she has gone to great trouble to disguise herself. ‘I’ve killed off Katherine Halfhide,’ she said to me, ‘and metamorphosed into Elizabeth Woodville.’ ”

  “As in wife of Edward IV,” muttered Roy.

  “Roy!” said Ivy. “Go on, Augustus.”

  “Well, she has made a good job of it. Hair dyed a terrible red and cut like a man’s, and clothes that disguise her figure. Mind you, she seems to have lost a lot of weight. No flesh on her bones, and a dry skin. I think she must have been having a bad time lately.”

  “Sounds like she deserves it,” said Deirdre. “And don’t tell me off, Ivy, because Gus has finished, haven’t you, Gus?”

  “No, there is a little more. After she had told me all this, and we were sitting on the stairs saying nothing, Miriam Blake hove into view. I could see then how effective Kath’s disguise was. She came out into the garden, and Miriam did not recognise her at all. And, don’t forget, Kath had spent a night in Miriam’s cottage.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong,” said Ivy, “but as I see it, and I’m surprised she hasn’t done this, she could easily have upped sticks and disappeared without trace for a very long time. Still could. So should we report to the police and be quick about it?”

  “Oh God,” said Gus. He had not intended to tell the others of Kath’s chief reason for staying around. “There is another thing,” he croaked. And then he told them that his ex-wife was determined to find her jewels, come what may. I told her nothing about the raided badgers’ sett,” he added. “She obviously hadn’t found it yet.”

  “Not so clever, after all,” Deirdre said. “I think maybe we should have a coffee while we think.”

  “No need,” said Ivy. “Our duty is clear. Beasleys know their duty. We have to report to the police immediately. Deirdre, would you like to make an appointment with the inspector right away?”

  “No,” said Deirdre, looking at Gus. “I think we should leave it to Gus. He has to see Inspector Frobisher anyway. What do you think, Roy?”

  “I rather think as you do, Deirdre,” Roy said, risking all.

  “Then it is left for me to do what I know is right,” said Ivy. “Excuse me, I shall go and make a call.”

  “My phone’s out of order,” said Deirdre desperately.

  “I have my mobile,” said Ivy, and left the room.

  Fifty-two

  IT WAS NOT long before Ivy returned to her colleagues, with a smug expression on her face.

  “Did you get hold of Frobisher?” Gus asked. He was looking beaten, and Deirdre sat with clenched fists. Really, Ivy had gone too far.

  “No. And I wasn’t trying to. But I did speak to Mrs. Feather, and the results were excellent.”

  “Tell us more, dearest,” Roy said gently. He could see the others were very near losing their patience.

  “Well, if you remember, Roy and I were going back to Oakbridge to try talking to the boy on the market. Things seem more urgent now, so I got Mrs. Feather to give me the name and number of her neighbour. The boy’s mother wasn’t keen but has agreed we can go and see him this afternoon. She said she had felt very sorry for the poor man and supposed she should help find out what had really happened. Three o’clock this afternoon, Roy, so we’d better ring for our taxi.”

  Gus sighed. “Well done, Ivy,” he said. “But what am I to do about seeing Frobisher? I can’t just ignore a polite request from the police.”

  “I think Gus should come with us and then go on to the police station,” Roy said. “Or even go instead of me, Ivy.”

  Ivy shook her head. “We can see if Mrs. Feather will let us take Gus, but she said she had told the neighbour—Rickman, the name is—that nice Mr. Goodman would surely put the boy at his ease. Perhaps I should step down and let Gus go instead of me?”

  Deirdre took a deep breath. “Oh, for God’s sake, Ivy! You know perfectly well you have to go, and wild horses wouldn’t stop you. No, I’m sure if the three of you ask nicely, this woman will let you in. If not, Gus will have to wait outside. My guess is that the boy saw and heard nothing, so Gus won’t have long to wait.”

  “Very well,” Ivy said icily. “We shall see. Now, if everyone is agreeable, we should get back to Springfields and organise ourselves for this afternoon.”

  After they had gone, Gus remained with Deirdre after an invitation to have lunch. He was silent and frowning, almost unaware of her presence. In the end, she took his hand and kissed his cheek. “Don’t fret, Gus. I’m sure nothing will come of Ivy’s plan, and you can tell Frobisher just what Kath told you. What happens after that is out of your hands. No doubt they will go to pick her up immediately, but whether she is still there is anyone’s guess. Come on, now, have a bite of lunch and then you can go off to Oakbridge with Ivy and Roy.”

  MRS. RICKMAN HAD been sitting behind her lace curtain keeping watch. When she saw three people approaching her door she went quickly to open up.

  “Alan!” she shouted up the stairs as she went. “Come on down, love. Those people are here.”

  To her surprise, her son had cheerfully accepted that nice people were coming to talk to him about the man who fell to his death in the yard. “I’ve already told the police I didn’t know nothing. Might be interesting to hear what they say,” he had replied. Now he clattered down the stairs and stood by his mother at the door.

  “Good afternoon,” Gus said, “I do hope I may meet your son with my friends here?”

  “I spoke to you this morning on the phone,” said Ivy, moving forward. “This is Mr. Halfhide, and this is Mr. Goodman. I do hope three of us won’t be too many for young Alan.”

  “More the merrier,” said Alan, nothing like the sulky boy they had been expecting. “Let them inside, Mum. You can get the kettle on while we’re talking.”

  Ivy glanced at Roy, and he shrugged. It was all too good to be true. Too easy by half.

  When they were settled in the best room, Ivy took over.

  “Now, Alan, you remember that day when poor Mr. Ulph fell off the roof? We still do not know what exactly happened and wondered if you could help us.”

  “Are you relatives?” said the boy. His voice was firm, commanding even.

  “No, not close,” said Gus. Diplomacy needed here, he thought. “But Miss Beasley had met him and liked him very much. She has asked us to help find out more, if possible.”

  “And so,” said Ivy, “I wonder if you saw anything that day? Any visitors standing on the roof with Mr. Ulph? We are not sure what time it was, but probably
latish in the morning.”

  Alan shook his head. “Nope. I didn’t see nothing.” He smiled angelically.

  “Or heard?” asked Ivy, using all the force of her personality to will the boy to tell the truth.

  Again, he shook his head. “Plenty of noise around here but nothing out of the usual. What d’you mean? Something like a scream?”

  “Yes, that’s it,” said Ivy. “A shout or a scream?” She was sure now that the boy had heard something.

  “No, nothing like that,” Alan said, and reached for another biscuit.

  “May I ask you a question, Alan,” said Roy. He had been helped into the house and a comfortable armchair by Mrs. Rickman, and she had warmed to his gentlemanly ways.

  “I think that was all you remembered, Alan dear,” she said. “It was around that time that you were playing on your computer.”

  “What’s the question, Mr. Goodman?” Alan was enjoying himself. It was nice to have people being so friendly and himself the centre of attention.

  “Does your bedroom window look over towards Mr. Ulph’s rooftop? I’m sure he would have waved to you, just like Miss Beasley here. He must have been pleased to see a friendly wave.”

  “Oh yeah. We often waved to each other. I reckon he was lonely, poor old sod.”

  “That was kind of you, Alan,” Roy continued. “I expect you sometimes wondered if it was safe for him out there. No guardrails or anything like that.”

  “Yeah, I did. I said to Mum, didn’t I, Mum, that he often got too near the edge.”

  “And you were quite right. Well spotted, Alan.” Roy smiled encouragingly.

  “Mind you, that woman didn’t help, giving him a push.”

  In the horrified silence that followed this revelation, Alan’s mother reached out for her son’s hand, but he brushed it aside. “It’s no good, Mum. I did see it, and even if it does get me into trouble for lying before, I should speak out.”

  Ivy shook her head slowly. “I think it would be best if you just told us in your own words what happened, and then it’ll be up to your mum. She’ll know what to do.”