The Wild Wood Enquiry

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The Wild Wood Enquiry Page 23

by Ann Purser


  “Well, I was fed up with my computer game. Went to look out of the window, which was open. Sometimes we get police helicopters. Not that day, though. The only thing to look at was that bloke and a woman. They had drinks in their hands, and I waved, like I always do. But they didn’t look at me. I thought maybe they were having a private discussion and I ought to shut my window. It stuck, and then just as it started to move, she shouted something. Looked like she’d lost her temper. Then the next thing was, she chucked her drink in his face and began to push him backwards. I thought she’d stop, but she kept going, and he screamed something awful as he went over the edge. I rushed down to tell Mum, didn’t I, Mum?”

  Mrs. Rickman nodded. “Oh my God, Alan,” she said. “I’m sorry, boy.”

  She turned to the others and, scrubbing away tears, said that she had done wrong telling him to keep quiet about it, but wanted only to protect her son. “There wasn’t nothing we could do. It was all over for the poor man. And then the police come round, and I decided the best thing would be for us to say nothing.”

  “Did you tell your husband, Mrs. Rickman?” asked Gus.

  “Him! Haven’t seen him for years. He ran out on us. I don’t want him back, an’ that’s part of the reason I didn’t want our names splashed across the local paper. My Alan is man of the house now. Every word of what he just said is true. You can rely on that.”

  Gus got to his feet. “Thank you very much, Mrs. Rickman,” he said. “What you and your son have told us is invaluable, and I know you will want to call the police at once. I am sure they will be very understanding of your situation, and children’s privacy and rights are very well protected these days.”

  They filed out slowly onto the pavement, and Roy climbed into his trundle. “Say good-bye to Alan for us,” he said. The boy had disappeared but was there again suddenly, holding out something to Roy. “Here,” he said, “this is for you. Thanks, Mr. Goodman.”

  WHEN THEY WERE safely in the taxi and on their way home, Ivy said, “What was that piece of paper he gave you?”

  “Not a piece of paper, Ivy. It’s a comic.” He unfolded it and held it out to her.

  “Oh my goodness,” she said, with a crooked smile. “Just look here. ‘Speedy Sam, the Mobile Detective.’ And look, Roy, here he is, in a trundle just the same as yours!”

  “Nice lad, young Alan,” said Roy, and returned the comic to his pocket.

  Fifty-three

  GUS LOOKED AT his watch. It was six o’clock, and Inspector Frobisher had finally left the room, saying he would be back in a few minutes.

  It had not been exactly a grilling since the others had left him at the police station, and at no time had the interview become threatening, but there was no questioning its thoroughness. From the day he first met Kath, to their conversation yesterday, he had explained everything, including her relationship with Ulph, and her present whereabouts in the gamekeeper’s cottage.

  Frobisher had immediately taken action in sending a car to bring her in. Then, in his turn, he had given Gus information the police had already collected. He told him that they had discovered from marriage records that Ulph and Katherine had actually been wed, and their marriage had lasted exactly six weeks. A police contact in Katherine’s circle had reported that Ulph had left when he discovered her flaunting an affair with another man, unashamedly boasting about it to mutual friends.

  Gus put his head in his hands, trying to shut out memories best left undisturbed. There would be much more to get through, but at least an end to it all was now possible. He didn’t care what happened to Kath. With her lies and selfishness, she had effectively erased all feelings he had ever had for her. He had no doubt whatsoever that she would wriggle out of this one, if only by negotiating a short sentence on grounds of self-defence. When Frobisher returned, he said there had been a further development.

  Gus stared at him. “What else?” he said.

  “I am afraid that when my lads got to the gamekeeper’s cottage, at first they thought nobody was there. But the door was unlocked, and they pushed it open, calling out to see if there was somebody around. One of them thought they heard a moan from upstairs, so he went up. Found your ex-wife, recognisable from your description, lying on a sleeping bag on the floor. She was unconscious, barely breathing, and looked in a bad way, so we got her to the hospital, where she is expected to recover. The usual thing, sir. Empty pill packets beside her. The lads were just in time.”

  “Oh my God,” said Gus in a hoarse voice.

  The inspector reached into a file, then pulled out a folded piece of paper. Gus saw his own name on it in familiar handwriting.

  “This was also found beside her,” said Frobisher, “and it seems to be addressed to you, Mr. Halfhide. You are known as Gus, aren’t you?”

  Gus nodded and took the paper. He unfolded it and read the short message.

  Gus—it’s no good, is it? This is my last escape. Be happy. Kath.

  “Are you all right, sir?” The inspector was very experienced and gave Gus time to take it in.

  Then he said that there was a friend waiting in reception. “Been there for hours. You are free to go now, Mr. Halfhide. We shall be in touch. Oh yes, and I’m afraid you won’t be able to see your ex-wife. The law, you know, has to take its course.”

  DEIRDRE STOOD UP as he approached. She held out her arms, and he submitted gladly to a bear hug. “Come on, now, Gus. Time to go home.”

  “Where’s Whippy?” he croaked.

  “Miriam’s got her. She’ll be waiting for you.”

  “Who? Miriam or Whippy?”

  “Both, you bet,” said Deidre, “and, if you ask me, Cousin Ivy and Roy as well.”

  “WHERE ARE WE going, Deirdre?”

  “To Tawny Wings, of course. I guess you’ve had nothing but a sandwich all day. Miriam’s been having a cook-up, so we can look forward to a good supper.”

  “I’m not sure I’m hungry,” Gus said, and then added that he was very grateful, but he’d really rather go home to the cottage and Whippy.

  Deirdre ignored him. She drove up to Tawny Wings and held the car door open for him to alight. “Come on, Augustus,” she said. “Trust me.”

  They were all waiting in the drawing room, Ivy, Roy and Miriam. And Whippy, who shot across to greet Gus, sensing, as dogs do, that her master was not a happy man. He fondled her ears, and for a moment Deirdre was afraid he would break down. But then Ivy saved the day.

  “If you ask me,” she said, “that dog needs to go out into the garden.” She sniffed. “It’s not exactly Chanel No. 5, is it.”

  Miriam laughed, and after a short pause the others joined in, even Gus, who wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and said he would take her out. And yes, he had a plastic bag in his pocket.

  “Don’t be long,” Miriam cautioned. “Supper’s ready, and it’s one of my specials.”

  The supper was, as promised, delicious, and they all lingered over coffee and chocs, until Gus said he really must be going. He had not talked much, listening to the others conduct a kind of postmortem. Most of the conversation had been about Katherine. He was able to contribute a few facts, items the police had discovered and Inspector Frobisher had told him. It had not taken them long to find the pub where she had left her room full of telltale red dye stains. The landlady had hardly recognised her as the pleasant-looking woman who had arrived, she said. Katherine had apparently slipped in and out of the pub like a shadow.

  “But what was she doing? Surely Oakbridge was the last place she should have risked staying around?” Ivy felt she had to ask this question, even though Gus looked beaten. But it was important to know. There was still no confirmation of the whereabouts of the jewels.

  “It was avarice, I suppose,” Gus said wearily. “She took on that gamekeeper’s cottage in order to search the woods. Ulph had told her they were buried there, and she meant to troll every square metre, however long it took.”

  “And never thought of giving up?” Deird
re had her own idea why but hoped Gus would confirm it.

  “Not really,” he said. “She’d had a quick look round the morning she went missing from Miriam’s. Of course, then she realised it was going to be a big job, searching such a large area. So she went back to London and planned how to do it. But first she intended to put the pressure on poor Ulph, in case he would save her the trouble and lead her to it. So that’s what she did, and after that, we know what happened.”

  “Do we?” said Ivy.

  “Well, she had not intended to kill him, I’m sure of that,” Gus answered. “One of her quick flashes of temper, more than likely. She had to adjust her plans, of course, and came up with that hideous disguise. But she hadn’t given up.”

  After a half a minute, when nobody interrupted, he continued. “And then, although I hope this was not true, I think she planned that we might get together again. God knows why! She had taken everything from me, including my faith in women! But there it is. She was making overtures of at least friendship, and I’m afraid I made it clear I was not interested. Do you think that’s why she, well, you know, swallowed those pills? Perhaps that was the last straw?”

  “Absolutely not!” said Deirdre angrily. “That woman never did anything without it being advantageous to herself! I should be very surprised if this suicide attempt wasn’t carefully planned to enlist sympathy. See how upset you are, Gus! No, I shall be pleased to see her behind bars for a good long time.”

  “Deirdre Bloxham!” said a shocked Roy. “Compassion, my dear, is surely needed in this case. And now,” he said, as he saw a tear run down Gus’s cheek, “I think we should get Gus home to rest. Deirdre? Will you see that he gets a proper sleep?”

  “No need for him to go home to that decrepit cottage,” she said. “Come on, Gus, upstairs. Spare bed made up ready. And Whippy, you come, too. I’ve found an old dog basket, and it’s all ready with a clean blanket.”

  “Very kind, Deirdre,” he said. “But don’t worry. I’m all right. Just a bit tired. And at the moment I’d rather be back in the old routine.”

  “And Gus’s cottage is quite comfortable now,” chipped in Miriam defensively.

  “Then I think we should leave it to Katherine to find that the mound has been dug over and nothing found. That is, if she is free to continue her search, I should perhaps add,” Roy said gently. “I think our job is done now. A dirty rubber glove found by Deirdre has satisfied Miriam and Rose Budd that nobody’s hand was severed. The rest is now safely with the police, who, without doubt, have benefited from Enquire Within’s investigation.”

  “So what’s next, I wonder,” said Ivy gently. “Roy got talking to a stranger he met outside the shop. He was waiting for the bus and happened to mention that he was having trouble sorting out his old mother’s will. Everything left unexpectedly to his cousin. He gave Roy his card and said to get in touch if we were interested.”

  “Roy!” Deirdre patted his arm. “So there’s no talk of retiring?”

  “If you ask me,” chipped in Ivy, “once you retire, you might as well book your eco-friendly casket. Now, who’s for taking on the man at the bus stop?”

  “Not a bad title for a book, that. The Man at the Bus Stop,” said Roy. “So, are we all agreed?”

  All except Gus, who was studying his folded hands.

  “And you, Augustus?” Ivy asked quietly.

  “Mm,” said Gus.

  “What does that mean?” Deirdre was looking anxiously at him.

  “Well, of course, yes. You’d get nowhere without me,” he said, looking up at her with a fond smile.

  Fifty-four

  NEXT MORNING, GUS woke up and for a moment could not remember where he was. Most of the previous day had been so long and horrendous that he thought for a moment he was still in the police station where they had given him a cell for the night.

  Then he saw Whippy curled up on the end of his bed and knew that he was home. This was a relief, but there was still the future to get through. Deirdre and the others had been marvellous, and he remembered now what she had repeated to him several times. She had reassured him that his part in all of it was over. He had done the right thing, and nothing he could have done would have saved Ulph.

  But that left Kath, and she had meant to die. Gus repeated to himself her scribbled message and knew that she had given up. How would she feel when she realised she was still in the land of the living, a place that held nothing but trouble for her? Or had Deirdre been right in supposing it had been a bid for sympathy?

  He went downstairs to make himself a cup of tea, and then sat by the window, looking out at the peaceful scene. A parade of Theo’s sheep passed by, followed by David Budd and his dog. As the baaing and whistling faded, Gus felt better. There was an ordinary world out there, getting on with everyday matters. He could join it and attempt to set Kath and Ulph to one side.

  A knock at his door sent Whippy into a frenzy of barking. Gus sighed and went to open up to the morning.

  “Mr. Halfhide, so sorry to disturb you. May I have a word?”

  It was Theo Roussel, and he walked in, ignoring the fact that Gus was still in pyjamas and bare feet. He refused politely Gus’s offer of tea and said that he would not stay long.

  “It is just a small matter. Well, not all that small. The thing is, David was working in the woods some days ago and came upon an unfamiliar mound. He knows every inch of those woods and was suspicious, so he kicked the earth to one side. Found a couple of very dirty supermarket bags buried just under the surface. They were tied up tightly and, as far as he could see, full of Bubble Wrap. Fortunately, he brought them straight to me, and we opened them.”

  “And found a hoard of beautiful jewellery?”

  “Well, yes! How did you know? Costume jewellery, we decided, but I thought I should come to everyone in the Row to see if they know who is the owner. And you are the first, and seem to know about it?”

  “Yes, I do, and it is certainly not rubbish. It is the real stuff, Mr. Roussel. I can prove it is my ex-wife’s, but I shall be very glad if you could hold on to it for the moment. It is a long story, but it would be a great favour to me.”

  “Oh, of course, old chap. You’re not looking well, you know. Take it easy! Now, I must go. Would you like to come up and have potluck supper with me this evening? Then you can tell me the whole story. Sounds most interesting. I do hope there’s a happy ending!”

 

 

 


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