‘Have there been any strangers or has he mentioned meeting with someone he doesn’t know well?’
Donna said no, life was just the same as it always was. Then Janey piped up, ‘What about that woman who came to see Dad?’
Donna said, ‘But surely a woman didn’t do this.’
‘Do you know who it was who came to see him?’
‘Yes, she left a card.’ She went over to the sideboard and brought back the small card. For a moment, Charlie Johns thought he would explode. However, when he spoke he sounded quite normal. ‘This Molly McQueen, what did she want?’ It was now the turn of the constable to look up from his notebook with a sharp look of surprise.
‘She said she was looking into the disappearance of a girl called Etta Barton who vanished from home in 1930 and has never been found. Peter once went out with Etta when they were teenagers, but it only lasted a few weeks. Peter hasn’t seen or heard from her in all these years so he couldn’t help. Still, we were pleased to help her as she was very pleasant and sympathetic.’
Charlie Johns said, ‘I think that’s all for now, Mrs Walsh. We’ll have to speak to your husband but not until tomorrow and see if he’s able to help us.’
When they reached the car, the constable asked, ‘Is this the same Molly McQueen who was involved in that strange case last year?’
Charlie Johns looked grim and very annoyed. ‘Yes, it is. What has she got into this time? That woman seems to invite trouble. Right, let’s go and pay her a visit.’
Back in the house, Donna and the girls got ready to go back to the infirmary. ‘I’ve got the van outside, Donna,’ said Jimmy, going ahead of them and hurrying down the stairs.
Although they looked calm, it was clear that tears weren’t far away. Jimmy drove carefully and they reached the infirmary just as the clock was striking twelve. They sat in a corridor for what seemed ages but only an hour had passed. Every time a nurse or a doctor appeared, they raised hopeful faces to the passing staff, but no one came to tell them how Peter was.
Just before two o’clock, the doctor arrived and took Donna and Jimmy into his office. ‘The good news is that your husband has no internal injuries but he has two bad leg fractures, a broken wrist and dislocated shoulder, plus a deep cut on his head which we’ve stitched up. He’s sleeping now and I expect he’ll be very sore when he wakes up, but we’ll control his pain.’
Donna cried out, ‘I thought he was dead.’
‘No, he isn’t. He’s a strong young man and he’ll take a while to recover, but he’ll be fine.’
‘Can we see him?’
‘Well, just for a few moments.’
Donna, Jimmy and the two girls crept silently into a side room. Peter was lying pale and still on the crisp white bed, wrapped in white bandages, his legs and arm in a stookie. Donna gave a small cry and sat down beside him, taking his good hand in hers. ‘Oh Peter, who did this to you?’
Peter was lying motionless and sound asleep. The doctor did say that the anaesthetic hadn’t worn off yet, so they sat for a few moments more. The girls said a quick cheerio to their dad while Donna promised to come later that night.
When they were outside, Jimmy said, ‘You haven’t had anything to eat. Put the kettle on, Donna and I’ll go and get some pies from the baker’s.’
He arrived back a few minutes later, carrying a bag with four hot pies, and in spite of saying they weren’t hungry, the three women ate every crumb and drank the hot tea. ‘I have to get back to work, Donna, but I’ll come back tonight and take you all up to the ward.’
Donna was flustered. ‘We’ll manage, Jimmy. I don’t want to put you out.’
But he was adamant. Later, as he drove away, he suddenly remembered Gemma and his date with her that night. Hopefully she would understand and go out with him another time. When he reached the yard, Jack Cooke came out. His face was grey with worry. ‘What’s the news?’ he asked.
Jimmy told him and Jack’s face lost its worried frown. ‘That’s good news. I really thought he was dead when I saw him lying there.’
Jimmy mentioned the policemen and Jack said the same thing as Donna. ‘Who could have done this to Peter? I mean he’s an inoffensive, hard-working guy. A man that I would say doesn’t have an enemy in the world.’
Although Jimmy stayed silent, he remembered the dent in the van. Peter hadn’t told him how it happened and he wondered if he had got himself mixed up in something.
Later, when they all went back to see him, he was still sleepy but he was able to whisper, ‘I think I’ve been dropped from the top of the Law Hill.’
Now that they knew he was going to be all right, the girls were amused to see his dark hair had been shaved to let the doctor put five stitches in his head wound. ‘You’ve got a baldie spot, Dad,’ said Janey.
No one mentioned the sabotaged brakes.
35
Molly had two places to go to this morning. Her first call was Vera’s house. Vera was still in bed but she got up to answer the door. The room was untidy and last night’s dishes were still in the basin. The room was cold, so Molly began raking the ashes from the fire while Vera gazed at her with a blank look. Once the fire was lit, Molly said, ‘Are you getting dressed, Vera?’
She shook her head. ‘What’s the use of getting dressed when I’m afraid to go outside?’
‘We’ll both go out and get some food in the house for you.’ Molly looked in the cupboard but it was almost bare. The bread looked like it had shrivelled up and died, while the milk lay congealed in the bottle.
Vera eventually made the first move to put on her clothes. Molly was dismayed to see her jumper had a large stain on the front. She leant over and took it from her. ‘Where do you keep your jumpers, Vera?’
She pointed listlessly to a chest of drawers in the bedroom. Molly found a reasonably clean one and handed it to her. Molly couldn’t help comparing the Vera who had initially hired her to this pathetic, unkempt woman who now sat opposite her. ‘Put your coat on and we’ll go out to the grocer’s shop across the road and get some fresh milk and bread.’
Vera was like a small child. She stood up and put on her coat and waited until Molly found the message bag. Once outside, she walked by Molly’s side and she stayed silent in the shop, much to the owner’s curiosity. Filling the bag with some essentials, Molly paid for them from her own purse while Vera gazed into space. The shop owner could contain her curiosity no longer. ‘Are you feeling ill, Mrs Barton?’ Vera simply smiled and walked out of the shop, followed by Molly.
Back in the house, where it was much warmer now that the fire was lit, Molly asked her, ‘I hate to question you when you’re not feeling well, Vera, but there’s something I should have asked you earlier. What was your maiden name?’
Vera seemed to come out of the stupor and looked surprised. ‘My maiden name? What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Well then, what’s the surname of your sister Robina?’
Vera looked really annoyed and Molly realised she must have taken a sleeping pill last night that made her act like a zombie. ‘Look, Vera, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.’
The annoyance disappeared and was replaced by a stubborn, sulky look. ‘I don’t like to talk about my sister. I haven’t seen her in years and good riddance.’
Molly lost her temper. ‘Fine, but just tell me her surname.’
‘If you must know, it’s Price, Robina Price.’
‘Thank you. Now, Vera, I have to go. Will you promise me you’ll cook some breakfast for yourself? I’ll come back later, so don’t go out on your own.’
Molly hurried down to catch the Kirkton bus. She had to see Frances Flynn immediately. The bus seemed to take forever as it drew into every stop but soon she was making her way to the house.
Frances opened the door right away. ‘Oh, I was expecting my son Jimmy. His boss phoned the shop next door to tell me one of his colleagues had been injured in an accident and he would be home late.’
Molly
wasn’t listening to this story. She wanted Miss Price’s address. Frances was still going on. ‘Poor Peter Walsh, he fell off his bike at work this morning and he’s badly injured.’
Molly stopped dead. ‘Did you say Peter Walsh?’
‘Yes, I did.’
Molly had to sit down on one of the new chairs in the living room. This was terrible news. She was hoping it was a simple accident but a small voice in her head said it wasn’t. What was going on, she wondered. Who was doing all this? She had taken a simple case of a disappearance and now people were being hurt.
Molly realised there was something different about the room. She sniffed. There was a fresh smell of polish and no overflowing ashtrays. Frances noticed this. ‘I’ve given up the cigarettes. It’s a mug’s game wasting money on blowing smoke into the air.’
Another omission was Maggie. Molly asked after her. ‘She’s away back to school. Her tonsillitis has cleared up.’
Molly came straight to the point. ‘Have you got the address of your ex-neighbour, Miss Price?’
Frances stared at her. ‘Miss Price? You mean Vincent?’
‘Yes, I know that’s what your husband calls her but I think her name is Robina and she’s Vera Barton’s sister.’
Frances laughed out loud. ‘Don’t be daft. Miss Price was my teacher at primary school. I hated her as she would hit you if you did anything wrong.’
‘What school did you go to?’
‘I went to convent school in Ireland. My parents came over to Dundee when I was twelve. One day I bumped into Miss Price. She had recently moved here and I invited her to come and visit as I thought she was a lonely person.’
‘So when you came here to live it would be about 1926?’
‘No, early 1927.’
‘Was Miss Price still at the school when you left?’
‘Yes, she was and to be frank I was glad to be away from her but I find her company all right now.’
‘Do you have her address, Frances?’
‘Yes, she lives at 10 Elizabeth Street.’
Molly thanked her and said, ‘Good luck with your no smoking regime.’ She was going to mention her thanks to Maggie but thought it better to leave it, just in case Maggie hadn’t told her mother about her visits to Molly.
As she sat on the bus, Molly tried to make sense of Frances’ statement. If Robina had been in Ireland in 1927 then she must have come over to see her sister in 1929. That’s if Anita’s memory was correct. What did she do then? Stay here or go back to the convent school? Was she still in Dundee when Dave Barton had his accident, and could Etta have gone to see her aunt and maybe travelled with her back to Ireland? That would make sense and explain why Etta had disappeared so suddenly. Had she heard about her father’s death and gone to see Robina and her aunt had suggested moving away with her?
When she got off the bus, she made her way to Elizabeth Street, a narrow street of houses that lay between Ann Street and Alexander Street. Number ten was on the left and the houses looked different from their neighbours, mainly because they had narrow gardens between the street and the closes.
Molly scanned each door and found Robina’s flat on the first floor. She knocked but everything was quiet. No one answered, so she knocked again. Still no answer, so she had no choice but to walk away. Before she did, she took a card from her bag and wrote that she would like a few words with Miss Price and that she would be in the office. A single-decker bus turned the corner and stopped outside the close but no one got off or on. She looked up at the windows but most had net curtains screening the view and there wasn’t the slightest twitching from any of them. Only once she had turned to head back did the curtain on the first floor move but by that point Molly was already walking away.
She decided to go see Vera again before going to the office. Molly was dismayed to see Vera hadn’t washed the dishes or made herself something to eat. ‘Vera, did you know your sister lived in Ireland and taught at a convent school there?’
Vera didn’t seem interested and Molly wondered how many sleeping pills she had taken. ‘Vera, did you hear what I said?’
Vera waved her hands in front of her face. ‘Oh, just go away.’
Molly was alarmed by this attitude. ‘Yes, Vera, I’m leaving and the case is closed as far as I’m concerned. I’m sorry I didn’t find your daughter but I’m now going to go to the police about the attempts on not only your life but on another witness’s as well.’
Vera looked at her. ‘Another witness? What witness?’
‘A man called Peter Walsh, who went out briefly with your daughter before she disappeared.’
Vera laughed harshly. ‘Etta never had any boyfriends. I would have known.’
‘Well, she went out with this lad when they were both sixteen. It only lasted a few weeks before he said he had another girlfriend and he says she was devastated by this.’
Before leaving, Molly asked her, ‘What’s the name of your doctor, Vera?’
‘Doctor James. He has a surgery in Garland Place.’
‘Well, please get him to come and see you, as you need help with all this trauma.’
Vera nodded but, again, she didn’t seem interested.
Molly made a detour to Garland Place to see Doctor James. Luckily he wasn’t busy, so she was able to have a quick word with him and tell him her worries over Vera. He said he would make a house call that afternoon.
Feeling slightly better, she finally reached the office and was taken aback to see DS Johns sitting in the visitor’s chair. Jean was quietly answering the phone and trying hard not to notice him. Mary was just leaving. She had also been waiting to see Molly about a new assignment but she recognised him from last year and said, ‘I’ll come and see you tonight. Molly.’
DS Johns stood up when he saw her and said, ‘I’d like a word with you, Miss McQueen. Somewhere private if that’s possible.’
Jean looked alarmed but stayed silent. ‘Come upstairs to the flat.’ Although she sounded confident, her heart was beating wildly. She hadn’t seen him since last year and the sight of his official manner brought it all back to her.
His gaze took in the entire room. ‘You’ve done it up great,’ he said.
Molly said she liked living here. ‘It’s strange that you should be here,’ she said. ‘I was just going to contact the police about this job I’ve taken on. It’s turned very dangerous and I don’t know what to do about it.’
‘I think you should start at the beginning, Miss McQueen.’ Charlie Johns sat back in his chair and made himself comfortable. He was expecting to be here for some time. ‘I’ve just come back from the infirmary where a Peter Walsh has just come through a very serious operation after a particularly nasty accident.’
Molly butted in. ‘Yes, I heard.’
Charlie looked surprised. ‘How did you hear about it? It only happened this morning.’
Molly explained her connection with Frances and her son Jimmy. ‘I went to see Frances Flynn about another person. I wanted her address and Frances told me about Peter. How is he?’
‘Well, he’ll live but I expect the person who cut the brakes on his bike was hoping he wouldn’t.’
‘Cut the brakes?’ Molly was shocked. She had hoped that it had been an accident and not this premeditated act. ‘Vera Barton, the woman who hired me to try and find her daughter, has also had two accidents and I’ve had my father’s car broken into and my notebooks stolen.’
Molly told him all she had found out so far. ‘I’ll type up my notes along with the names and addresses and if you wait for half an hour I’ll give them to you. Or maybe you would like to come back later?’
Charlie looked at her as she went over to the desk where the portable typewriter was sitting. Although he was upset that she hadn’t come to the police with this case earlier – she could have got herself hurt – he was glad that they had been thrown together again. She was a good-looking woman with great stamina. He had admired her last year after her traumatic time and he noticed sh
e had got on with her life and even turned the two dingy rooms into a lovely flat. Now it looked like she had got embroiled in another nasty incident and he hoped he could solve it before there were any more accidents. ‘Can I make a cup of tea, Miss McQueen?’
‘Oh, for goodness sakes, call me Molly, and you can make me one as well.’
‘All right, but only if you call me Charlie.’ He pottered around the tiny kitchen area and soon found all he needed, even a tin of biscuits. He carried the tray over to the coffee table. ‘Tea’s ready when you are,’ he said.
Molly joined him with a thick bunch of typed paper, which she had put in a cardboard folder. She had even put a sticky label on the front, which stated it was a report on Etta Barton. ‘You should be in the police force, Molly. I’ve never known anyone to type as quickly as you,’ he said, while eating a custard cream biscuit.
He laughed when she winked and said, ‘That’s why I’ve got a secretarial agency with my name above the door.’ She became serious. ‘As I told you, this case began in 1930 and all the people I’ve interviewed have been great in telling me their thoughts on Etta, but no one has any idea where she went. But now with these accidents it seems I’ve uncovered something but I’ve no idea what. Maybe one of the people I talked to has mentioned it to someone else, and then they passed it on to someone else. It’s endless.’ She smiled at him. ‘I’m glad to be finished with it, to tell you the truth, and I hope you get to the bottom of it.’
Charlie thought she’d got a lovely smile. ‘I hope so and we’ll do our best.’
They sat with their tea and Molly asked. ‘How are Tam and Rover?’ Molly had met them last year.
‘Tam’s fine and Rover still likes his walks every day. I go and see him every two or three weeks and have a drink with him on my day off. He loves his rum and a chat. He’s a marvellous old man and, of course, Rover has to have his dog biscuit when I visit them. His neighbour next door, Ina, is still very good to him and he says she’s like the daughter he never had.’
‘I’m glad. Give him my regards when you meet him again. Now, back to this case. I couldn’t get an answer from Robina Price’s address but I’m sure she was in. She’s the only one I haven’t talked to and if I had to suspect anyone, I would say it was her.’
Private Sorrow, A Page 17