Murder Flies the Coop

by Jessica Ellicott

  “So you think it is possible that he has been cheating?” Beryl asked.

  “I suppose anyone could be tempted to cheat. These gentlemen take their pigeon racing extremely seriously and it would be remarkable if the idea had never crossed any of their minds,” Prudence said. “But other than a second set of keys to his box, I can’t think how he would have managed it.”

  “You’ve been very helpful,” Beryl said. “I think I’d like to take a box of licorice for Edwina as well please.” Prudence nodded absentmindedly. Beryl could see that Mr. Scott was in for a good dose of the spotlight. She collected her parcels, paid for her purchases, and hurried out the door before Prudence began to speak to the next customer. She felt a little guilty about what Prudence might say and did not want to overhear it.

  Chapter 33

  Edwina was finishing off the lunch dishes and turning her attention to sweeping the kitchen floor when a freckled face appeared at the window of the back door to the scullery. She opened the door and Archie Harrison tromped in with an excited look on his youthful face.

  “I raced back from London just as fast as I could,” he said breathlessly. “And I’ve returned Beryl’s automobile. There’s a bit of a ding in the front bumper so I pulled it round back hoping she wouldn’t see it. Is she here?” Archie asked. Edwina felt her heart sink. If there was one thing Beryl loved, it was her motorcar. It wasn’t the first time it had seen some damage. Beryl herself had inflicted a horrendous dent in the bonnet on the day she had first arrived at the Beeches. Still, she wouldn’t be happy to hear it needed more repairs. And their finances were not so robust that such a thing was easily absorbed into the budget. Hopefully whatever it was that Archie found out in London would justify the expense as well as the heartache.

  “I suppose I had best see how it looks,” Edwina said. Archie nodded and she followed him out the back door of the scullery and into her beloved garden. Archie had pulled Beryl’s motorcar back behind the house and tucked it around the side of a clump of rhododendrons. It had been a valiant effort to hide it but the cherry-red of its paint job showed between the leaves and made it easy to spot. Archie and Edwina approached it and he pointed to the back fender.

  “Tell me you think it’s not so terribly bad,” Archie said.

  “Tell me you found out something incredibly important in London,” Edwina said, eyeing a dent the size of a cottage loaf in the back of the motorcar. The paint was scraped away and the damage to the fender looked almost like a crime on such a beautiful piece of machinery. Even someone as firmly committed to a more sedate means of transport as Edwina could see that.

  “That’s it exactly,” Archie said. “I was reversing out of a parking spot and into traffic to hurry back here to tell you what I’d found out when I rammed into another motorist. Considering what I discovered, I think Beryl will believe it was all worthwhile despite the damage.”

  “Well, then you best get on with telling me what it is,” Edwina said. “Come sit on the bench and tell me your news.” Edwina led him to her favorite spot in the garden, a wooden bench that overlooked a small pond filled with brilliant flashing goldfish and the occasional frog. A willow tree bent its graceful branches over the bench and provided just the right amount of dappled shade on a spring afternoon. Birds twittered and chirped in the branches above and it seemed a surprising place to be sharing the progress of a murder investigation. Edwina thought briefly how much her life had changed in the last few months. She never would have guessed that her garden would be a place in which she would be conducting business of anything but an herbaceous variety.

  “Mr. Jarvis was right about the rumors concerning Mr. Ecclestone-Smythe’s colliery. In the whole mine in fact,” Archie said. “It’s unbelievable that the man is still in business at all.”

  “Do you think the mine will be forced to close?” Edwina said.

  “I think that it will take a miracle for it to remain open. The mine itself is basically worthless. Not only are the shafts unstable, the quality of the coal is very low, and it’s being said that what veins there were have been played out,” Archie said.

  “Played out? Does that mean they’ve finished extracting as much coal as there was?” Edwina asked. She wished she had her notebook but hadn’t thought to put it in her pocket as she had only been doing some housework when Archie arrived.

  “Exactly. And since the cost of setting up the shafts was astronomical because the ground is so unstable and inclined to flood, there is no capital left to sink new shafts in order to look for new veins. Not only that, sabotage has been constantly plaguing the entire operation,” Archie said.

  “Why do you think we haven’t heard about it?” Edwina asked. “Shouldn’t that sort of thing be very difficult to keep quiet?”

  “The miners want to keep their jobs. It’s a terribly bad time for all of them. They’ve managed to keep it hushed up because nobody wants to talk about it. It’s a wonder no one’s been killed yet in the course of some of the damage,” Archie said.

  “What sort of sabotage are you talking about?” Edwina asked.

  “According to my sources in London there are rumors of damage to the equipment, hobbling of the pit ponies, even fraying of the ropes and conveyor belts used to transport the coal up and out of the mine and on to its final destination in Dover,” Archie said. “One person I spoke with said that he has it on good authority from different tradesmen making the repairs that Mr. Ecclestone-Smythe’s bad luck has been a boon for them. Their businesses have had a steady stream of new work because of it.”

  Edwina sat back against the back of the bench and laced her fingers together.

  “How has Mr. Ecclestone-Smythe managed to stay in business so long if everyone knows he has so much trouble financially? I should’ve thought it would take a great deal to keep his creditors off his back,” Edwina said. While it had been extraordinarily unpleasant at the time to deal with the tradesmen and their dunning notices, Edwina suddenly realized that her own precarious financial position of the past few years had given her much more insight into the desperation one felt when one could not pay one’s bills. Somehow it still did not seem worth it.

  “He’s got something very valuable that he can always cash in should he need to. The creditors seem willing to accept a delay in payment because they know they can more than get their money back should he be forced to sell his valuables,” Archie said.

  “Do you know exactly the nature of his valuable property? It isn’t the land that mine is on, is it?” Edwina said.

  “No, certainly not,” Archie said. “The land, at this point, could be considered a liability. It’s something far more stable in value than a played-out coal mine. Apparently his wife owns an extraordinary collection of jewels given to her upon her marriage by her parents. Mr. Ecclestone-Smythe has used them as collateral all over the country. It’s the only thing of value he still owns.”

  Edwina felt her breath catch in her throat. Here was an extraordinarily good reason for murder. Did Mrs. Ecclestone-Smythe know that her husband had promised her jewelry as collateral for his loans? Did she understand the sort of trouble he would be in once he realized they were missing? Was that why she was so desperate for them to be recovered before he discovered their loss? Did anyone else understand their true value? Did someone take them in order to cash them in themselves or did they take them to ruin Mr. Ecclestone-Smythe? Edwina’s head swirled with the possibilities and she desperately wished that Beryl would return to discuss the case, despite how she would likely react to the damage to her motorcar.

  “Are you quite certain of your sources, Archie?” Edwina asked. “You would absolutely trust them that this information is true concerning Mr. Ecclestone-Smythe’s finances?”

  “I am absolutely certain. I may be a bit rough around the edges, but if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s getting to the truth,” Archie said. “I would stake my life on it. Mr. Ecclestone-Smythe is stony-broke.”

  Chapter 34

&
nbsp; Beryl was not in the least bit surprised to see the dent in the back of her automobile. She knew when she had acquiesced to Archie’s request that it was a distinct possibility. In fact, she had never been in an automobile with him when she was not concerned for its safety, and even, it could be said, for her own. Besides, his reckless driving did not usually turn up such useful information. She had been delighted with his findings in London and felt that they were making real progress on the case.

  After reassuring Edwina that she and Archie would still be friends despite the accident, she decided to kill two birds with one stone and to head down into the village once more to confirm Mr. Gareth Scott’s alibi for the time of the murder. She first stopped off in the center of Walmsley Parva so Edwina could do a bit of shopping. Edwina said she needed more wool for a project she was working on. Beryl could not believe how much yarn her friend could go through in a week. She was even more baffled at how much Edwina seemed to enjoy pottering about in the yarn shop, considering the merits of the various skeins and patterns available. Beryl was more than happy to have an errand of her own that would excuse her from accompanying Edwina and feigning interest in any of it.

  She left Edwina at the front of the yarn shop then motored down to Blackburn’s Garage and pulled to a stop right in front of the open garage doors. Michael Blackburn slid out from beneath the automobile he was working on, sat up, and smiled at her. His sister, Norah, glanced up from underneath the hood of the vehicle and gave her a wave. Beryl had met the Blackburns when she first arrived in Walmsley Parva and had admired their ability with automobiles. They had restored her prize possession to its former glory once before. She was confident they would be able to do so again.

  Michael approached the vehicle then walked around it, making a thorough inspection with his eyes. “I see you’ve gotten yourself into some more trouble,” he said.

  “This time it wasn’t me,” Beryl said. “I lent my baby to a friend and this is what happened to it.”

  “Miss Edwina did this?” Norah said, coming up alongside her brother. “I should’ve thought she’d be a far more cautious driver than that.”

  “Edwina certainly would be far more cautious than this. But she still does not know how to drive. In fact, I had lent it to my friend Mr. Harrison, who took it up to London. He is still apologizing for what happened,” Beryl said.

  “It’s a shame,” Norah said.

  “Yes, it is. I hate to see such a beautiful machine subjected to this sort of damage,” Beryl said.

  “Well, yes, that’s true,” Norah said. “But what I was in fact talking about was the fact that you have yet to teach Miss Edwina to drive. I think it would do her a world of good.” Michael and Norah exchanged a glance. Beryl wondered what they were up to.

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Michael said. “Did you know that we’ve decided in addition to the taxi service and the garage, to open a driving school?”

  “You have, have you?” Beryl asked. The pair nodded eagerly up and down. Beryl heartily agreed that Edwina should learn to drive. She firmly believed that she should pay attention when the things that had been on her mind were mentioned by another, especially if it happened more than once. She felt as though the universe were giving her a sign that she was on the right track. And although she was pleased to think her plans were cosmically aligned, she was not at all convinced someone else should be entrusted with the weighty duty of teaching Edwina to drive. That was something she fully intended to do herself.

  “What a wonderful idea,” Beryl said. “I wish you every success with it. However, since I will be needing to pay for repairs to the car, I don’t believe there will be any coin left in the coffers to pay for driving lessons. Besides, I think Edwina would be most comfortable learning from me anyway. But I do appreciate the suggestion.”

  “Maybe you could ask her for us anyway?” Michael said. He gave her one of his wicked grins. Despite the loss of one of his arms during the war, Michael gave off the impression of being an extremely attractive and completely able-bodied young man. Beryl would be lying to herself if she did not admit she had entertained the notion of putting her theory to the test. Although to do so in Edwina’s house would present some difficulties. She imagined the look on Edwina’s face if she encountered any young man slipping out of Beryl’s bedroom in the wee hours. Entertaining as they were, she pushed such thoughts to the back of her mind and returned her attention to the business at hand.

  “Will you be able to attend to the repairs this week?” Beryl asked. She opened the door and slid out to join Michael at the back of the automobile. “I understood from Mr. Scott that you had his van here and I wondered if you might be too busy.”

  “We should be able to take care of it in a day or two. It’s not so bad as it looks. A bit of hammering and some new paint should take care of it. It’ll be good as new before you know it,” Michael said. “Is that right, sis?”

  “I should think so. We aren’t all that busy right now,” Norah said. “We finished up with Mr. Scott’s delivery van and we only have two other vehicles to take care of before this one.”

  “That seems fast. When did Mr. Scott bring in the van? Wasn’t it the other morning, on the day of the race?” Beryl asked. Norah motioned for Beryl to follow her into the garage and back into the office located behind a small door.

  Norah opened the appointment book and ran her finger down the columns. “It says here he booked an appointment that day, but I’m not sure exactly what time he was here,” Norah said.

  “He told me that he was here first thing that morning dropping it off,” Beryl said.

  Norah shouted to her brother, “Michael, what time did Mr. Scott drop off his van the other day?” Michael entered the garage, wiping his hand on a rag tucked into a loop on his coveralls.

  “I’d say about nine in the morning,” Michael said. “I was having my tea when he dropped by, and I always have a tea break around then if I am here at the garage.”

  “Are you certain about that?” Beryl asked. “He said that he was here far earlier. Perhaps as early as eight”

  “That can’t be right,” Norah said. “I was just leaving our allotment when I saw him at his own patch. I saw him on the same morning but before he dropped off his van.”

  “Up at the allotments?” Beryl said. “Are you quite certain?” Beryl felt the buzz she had grown to recognize as a significant clue in a case. Gareth Scott had actually been on-site at the place Lionel Cunningham’s body was found and on the same day he went missing. And he had lied about the time he had been there.

  “I most assuredly am. I was up at our allotment watering the lettuces before the sun became too hot. They wilt so easily you know,” Norah said. Beryl had no idea about the tendency of lettuces to wilt or to do anything other than to provide a bit of greenery on her plate at mealtimes. Nevertheless she nodded in agreement.

  “So what time did you go about this watering?” Beryl asked.

  “I was in our plot pulling weeds and thinning the carrots by seven. I kept at it until at least an hour before I decided to head on over to the garage to give Michael some help. I’d say I was back to the garage by quarter past eight,” Norah said.

  “So that would give Mr. Scott at least forty-five minutes between the time you left the allotments and when he arrived with his van?” Beryl asked.

  “That seems about right,” Norah said, looking at Michael for confirmation.

  “Absolutely. I had finished my tea just about the time he came. That would make it just after nine,” Michael said.

  That would give Mr. Scott an hour, give or take a few minutes, at the allotment on the morning of the murder. Which would be plenty of time to have an argument with Mr. Cunningham, kill him, and hide his body beneath his own pigeon loft. Beryl needed to speak with Edwina immediately. She took her leave of the Blackburn siblings with the assurance that they would get to her automobile just as soon as possible. She hurried up the high street and burst into the
yarn shop, surprising the owner and Edwina whose heads were bent over a ball of pale blue wool. A sunbeam shone down on the yarn, highlighting the colors as Edwina tipped the skein this way and that.

  “What do you think of this one for a muffler?” Edwina said, holding up the yarn for Beryl to give an opinion.

  “Could you put that on her account, ma’am?” Beryl asked. “Edwina, I don’t think you’ll be having much time for knitting today.” Edwina seemed to sense from her friend’s tone of voice that something was well and truly up. With a hurried exchange between herself and the owner of the Woolery, Edwina tucked the ball of yarn into her basket and followed Beryl out the door.

  Chapter 35

  Edwina was amazed at how much Beryl had unearthed in just the short time it had taken her to select yarn for two projects. And not even projects that had required a great deal of agonizing thought. Charity knitting and a muffler to send to an acquaintance she had met through a long-deceased aunt did not have the same import as a jumper she would wear for the next decade. She marveled at Beryl’s skill in detecting as well as her good luck. She was grateful that she had had the foresight to don a stout pair of walking shoes when she left the house that morning as they hurried more quickly than could possibly be considered seemly through the village and on towards the allotments.

  They arrived in record speed and stealthily made their way to the one tended by Gareth Scott. Edwina looked out over the other patches and spotted one she knew belonged to Norah and Michael Blackburn.

  “It’s right over there,” Edwina said, pointing to a tidy garden filled with a variety of colorful lettuces and the soft fronds of emerging carrots. Quite a green thumb, Norah Blackburn has, Edwina thought approvingly to herself as she glanced over the neat rows and flourishing plants. “That’s the one that belongs to the Blackburns.” Beryl turned and looked in the direction Edwina indicated and then set off towards it.