by Daisy White
Will shifts and leans back onto one elbow. When I open my eyes, his face is close to mine. I move slightly away, pretending to look for a cigarette. What is it about him that still makes me wary?
“What if Beverly is a bit more special than she thinks?” he suggests after a pause, apparently noticing nothing about my behaviour.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you just said it would take power and motive. So the family history you mentioned might be relevant. What if someone wasn’t getting back at Beverly herself, but her family?”
“I . . . I don’t know. I don’t think the family was important or anything. They were just normal people, from what she said.”
“How about the man who ‘took advantage’ of her mother? You said she worked in a big house. What if the man was the owner of the house or something . . . I’m not saying I’m right, just throwing things out for you to consider. The baby she had would have been his, of course. Perhaps she tried to blackmail him after the adoption?”
“Why would she bother? She got married and then had another baby, didn’t she? And surely that would be someone trying to get back at her mum, not Beverly.”
“OK. Laura’s dad, and the uncle, then, who both knew or worked for John Stocker.”
“What about them?”
“I’ve heard of Stocker. He was one of the major players in the late '40s and '50s. He owned clubs up in London, and properties all over the place, all filled with tenants. Including down here in Brighton. He had some pretty seedy strip clubs in Soho, too, and he made money any way he could. You wouldn’t mess with any of his lot.”
I roll onto an elbow, listening intently. “So this is someone who had the power to silence people.”
Will nods slowly. “By the way, I got you a little present — remind me to give it to you before you go.”
My whole body tenses, and my palms are sweaty, but I force a smile. “Will, you are so kind, but you really don’t need to give me things.”
He smiles back, but there is a darkness in his expression. “Who else is going to look out for you?”
I force myself to stay calm, although my heart is thumping painfully. Lovers give each other presents all the time. Is that how Will sees our relationship?
“Thank you, but you really shouldn’t . . .” Hoping I don’t seem too ungrateful, I change the subject. “So do you know any more about the Stockers?”
Will’s set expression relaxes, and he smiles again. I shove my hands into my skirt pockets to stop them shaking.
Chapter Seventeen
“I know a bit more. Stocker had a reputation, and I heard he and his wife used to drive around all decked out like film stars. Nobody crossed him. Even my boss still talks about him with a bit of respect. Of course he’s sold all the clubs now, and gone respectable in his retirement. I believe he’s been unwell for a few years. His wife too. I heard about her turning up on the beach. Nasty.”
I wait for more, but Will is silent. “Do you think Beverly’s uncle may have been the one in trouble with this John Stocker? Beverly said he bought the house in White Oak, and a few others. Maybe he was a rival in business?”
“Could be, and if he crossed Stocker, that might well lead to a bit of revenge, but setting up a woman for murder? I just don’t know. Seems like it would need to be more personal.”
“What about all these events — Beach Girl, then Susie’s body washing up, and after that the kidnapping thing? Any thoughts?”
I’m sitting close enough to feel the shift in his breathing. His dark eyes rest on my face for a second and then he frowns. “They're probably not connected. Why should they be? I mean, a few other people drowned at the weekend, didn’t they, so unless you have another serial killer out there, or a loony, there doesn’t seem to be any obvious connection. These things happen . . . as we know.”
“I suppose so. Can you maybe ask your boss if he knows any more about the Stockers? One of my clients said they had a woman living with them to nurse Susie when she was ill . . . It might be worth talking to her if I can find her. The police said they were checking, but they didn’t think the Stockers had any children, so why was Beach Girl out there when Susie went in?”
“Assuming that was when Susie went in,” he says, his expression wary again.
“Oh God, I need to go now,” I tell him, glancing at my watch. If I run off quickly, I can pretend I’ve forgotten about his gift.
“So do I. I’ve got work to do too. I can ask around.” He rises to his feet, far taller and stronger than me. “See you soon, Ruby. And be careful.”
“You always say that. I should say it to you, really.”
He laughs and before I can resist he takes my hands and pulls me up from the beach. “Get back to work, Miss Detective. Oh, and Rubes, don’t forget I have something for you . . .”
Oh no, not this again. I struggle to smile as he pulls out a square white box and hands it over.
“Open it, then!”
I lift the lid, my hands shaking a little, and pull out a beautiful silk scarf. The blue and yellow squares flutter in the breeze. I glance at the card nestling beneath it. Pucci. “This must have cost a fortune!”
“I want you to have it,” he tells me, his voice hard.
Again I feel a ripple of unease in my stomach, but, unwilling to keep being an ungrateful cow, I thank him profusely for the present.
He beams like a placated child. “Right, I’ve got to go now. I’ll see what I can find out for you.”
“See you later,” I mutter, gently folding the silk squares back into the box.
I corner Johnnie in the back room when I return to the salon and plead my case for Laura Grieves. “I’m sure she knows a lot more, and the fact that she’s coming into the salon means I’ll get a chance to talk to her again. I already said I’d give her the trainee discount, but if you could give her a ‘Summer Special’ as well she might be so pleased, she’ll tell me a bit more about the Collins case. She knows something else, I can tell. I’ll make up the extra fee out of my wages if you like.”
“Don’t be silly, angel, of course she can have her hair done. You will not pay a penny from your wages either. I agree from what you’ve said she could be ready to say a whole lot more. Of course, as a key witness, she might have been aware who was doing the blackmailing. If it was blackmail. From what we know about the whole affair one of the really puzzling things is that someone managed to spirit Ella away in the first place. Everyone knows everything on White Oak, so they could hardly put her in a car and drive off with the neighbours watching, or even lead her away up towards the Downs . . .”
“And that would mean a whole lot more people to blackmail or bribe into silence, I suppose. Could you really keep a whole estate quiet?”
“I don’t know, angel, you’ll just have to keep poking away and eventually something will come out. See you at the show tonight! Maybe you could wear that pretty scarf you just put in your bag . . .” His blue eyes are wide and innocent.
I wonder whether to bring up the subject of Will but Johnnie, despite his mischief-making, seems keen to get going, so I leave it and bustle around getting the towels off the line and taking delivery of a whole five boxes of conditioner. I drag it in through the courtyard and start unpacking, before Catherine calls me back into the salon for another round of shampooing.
As we finish up for the day, I watch Catherine and Eve shrug on their wool coats and collect their bags. Looking at their outfits always makes me wonder what they wear in the winter months.
“Have fun tonight, Rubes!” Mary says brightly as she sets off to retrieve the baby.
“Are you sure you won’t come?”
“Will you all stop asking me that? I swear, I’m looking forward to a nice evening playing with Summer, eating soup and listening to the radio. I can start going out when she’s bigger, but I just want to enjoy her now.”
"Alright, alright." I let it go, give her a hug and run upstairs to change for the night.
When am I going to tell her about Will? I need to do it soon, if only to explain the appearance of the Pucci scarf, which I have hidden under a pile of knickers.
I’m meeting the others at a coffee bar before we go down to the Hippodrome, but I have a bit of time, so I spend a happy half hour choosing a dress, hunting out some shoes, and doing my makeup. The blonde in my hair really needs touching up, but I’m still torn between my Marilyn look and going dark again. Sticking with red lipstick, I add mascara and smudge my eyes with brown pencil to make them look bigger. If it wasn’t so hot I’d be trying on Mary’s new jeans. She bought them last week as an incentive to lose the last bit of her ‘baby tummy’ and they are skin tight. Victoria told me she has the same jeans and she shrinks them in the bath every night to make them even tighter before she goes out.
Finally, pleased with my look, I grab my favourite purse, cigarettes, and some money, and run down into the road.
The coffee bar is packed with couples, and a few larger groups have spilled outside onto the pavement. They clutch their drinks, smoking and laughing. I spot James talking to a pretty dark-haired girl and wave.
Pearl appears from the edge of the crowd and gives me a hug. “Hallo, Rubes! Can you believe Kenny wouldn’t come?”
I grin at my cousin, and accept a cigarette. “I heard that he’s scared of magicians.”
Victoria joins us. “Great, you’re here! I said to James that we should get going as soon as you arrived. We don’t want to be right at the back of the queue. Look, Johnnie’s over there!”
The Hippodrome is in Middle Street so it doesn’t take long to walk across, and the queues are short. We are quickly seated, and I’m squeezed between James and Pearl, with Victoria and Johnnie further along the row. Pushing any thoughts of missing kids and murders to the back of my mind, I settle back to enjoy the holiday atmosphere. The lights dim and we wait impatiently for Hector and Eva to be announced. I’ve never seen a magic show — in fact I haven’t really seen any shows, so I tell myself that childish excitement building in my stomach is definitely allowed.
The compere, in his black suit and hat, cracks a couple of jokes and then beams at his audience. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce Hector and Eva’s Magic Show. Returning to their hometown after a very successful European tour, this mystical pair will enchant and entrance, and for those who don’t believe in magic . . . you will after this act! I give you — Hector and Eva!”
The stage is still dark, drums roll and then a single spotlight flickers spookily across the audience, making some of the girls scream.
James leans in to whisper in my ear, “If you get scared, Rubes, just let me know and I’ll hold your hand!”
I whisper back, “I think I’ll manage to control myself, but if it makes you feel better I’ll hold your hand in the scary bits.” I notice as I turn that the dark-haired girl he was talking to earlier is watching us from two rows behind. Clearly hunky James has made another conquest.
Hector — tall, dark, and dressed in a swirling black velvet cloak — walks out on stage, followed by Eva. She carries a chair, a box and a hoop, and dances her way to centre stage, her silver costume clinging to every curve.
It’s a clever show, beginning with Eva balancing on the chair, and leaping lightly onto Hector’s shoulders. She holds the hoop aloft and from somewhere behind them six white doves fly out and perch on its delicate rim.
Eva bows, then begins to dance around the box, her movements languid and seductive. Finally, she climbs inside, closing the lid. The lights dim, and there is another drum roll — one that goes on for so long that my heart is pounding. The stage is dark as dusk, and Hector is standing very still. What’s going to happen? I wonder. Has something gone wrong? Then, with a great flourish, Hector reopens the box and picks it up: Eva has disappeared.
His wide, black-lined eyes stare into the audience in wonder and fear. My fingers are aching from gripping onto my handbag.
“Where is she?” James whispers, as Hector points his wand at the box, looking nervous.
But before I can reply, Eva has burst from the box, calm and smiling. She and Hector begin to dance, and I breathe out at last. James laughs and begins to clap.
As a finale, Eva, with the doves flying around her, dances around the stage, with Hector pointing his magic wand at the ground. Where her feet touch, a giant shimmering bubble appears. I clutch the seat back in front of me, leaning closer to the stage, entranced. The combination of rippling music, eerie lighting and entrancing performances is making this one of my best nights out.
“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen! You have been a great audience, and we are delighted to be back in our home town!” Hector has a deep, stagey voice that booms right back to the last row of seats, and echoes around the room.
Eva just nods, then bows, smiling and twirling her hoop. They exit to huge applause, with the doves flying behind them, and the bubbles vanishing into the blackness of the backdrop. The huge red curtains swing back across the stage, and I find I’m still buzzing with the thrill of the show.
“Great show! I’ll just nip out for a moment — got to make a call,” Johnnie tells us quickly, and strides off towards the doors.
I stare after him, slightly puzzled, but then I meet Pearl’s gaze and she shrugs. “Let him do his thing, sweetheart. Don’t worry, Johnnie can take care of himself.”
“I know. He just seemed a bit down, earlier — something about his brother coming home, and he hasn’t been partying in London recently . . . Anyway, what did you think of Hector and Eva’s magic? I thought that show was amazing!”
“It was really good!” Pearl says, sounding slightly surprised. “I’ve seen magic shows before where you can see how every trick is done, but this one was very clever. Anyway, I’m going to have to keep an eye on the time myself as I’ve got a nightshift. Thank God I have the Lambretta now, or I’d never get back in time.”
“Just as well they were pretty good, I’ve got to get a quick interview with them afterwards. They're having a little aftershow party — I can get us all in if you like?” James suggests.
“I’m coming!” Victoria says enthusiastically, kicking the woman next to her in her haste to exit the row of seats. “Oh sorry, so sorry . . .”
“Don’t worry love, it was the high heels that tripped you up. You want to get some like mine. I can walk miles in these.” The woman sticks out a foot and we all peer down at her sensible brown lace-up shoes.
“Yes, I might just do that. Thank you,” Victoria smiles sweetly.
I giggle as I follow the jostling, good-natured crowd. Victoria getting sensible shoes is as likely as me meeting the Beatles in the street outside.
Chapter Eighteen
We reach the top of the exit queue and file out, Pearl yelling her goodbyes and racing off to work the night, and the rest of us following James.
James leads us past the bar, showing his card to the man at the door, and on into a large room, packed with people. It’s a great party, with free drinks and a jazz trio at one end of the room. They are soon joined by a singer, who starts belting out covers from Skeeter Davis, Elvis and the Angels. She’s very good, with a raw, powerful voice, but my mind is totally focused on the wonders of the magic show and the novelty of a night out.
James wanders over, drink in hand, accompanied by a curvaceous blonde in a tight-fitting orange top. “Ruby, this is Alice. I didn’t realise she was coming tonight — she’s just started at the paper.”
Alice is small and hard-faced, with a massive head of back-combed blonde hair. A cigarette hangs from her lip as she speaks. “I want to get some of my stuff in the entertainment section, but officially James is covering this one.” She sends him a smouldering glance from under black lashes.
Hmmm, she seems to have fallen hard for James, but although he is smiling at her, he doesn’t respond to her comment. “Did you enjoy the act?” I ask her, filling the slightly awkward gap in conversation.
“Yes. It�
�s funny, I told my mum that Hector and Eva were doing a show, and she said she still remembers when they were selling ice cream on the estates. I mean, good for them, but how do you go from giving out lollies to sawing people’s heads off in a magic show?” Her voice is sharp and clipped, but her eyes constantly swivel from one to the other of us as she talks. Not as relaxed as she makes out, maybe . . .
James smiles at her. “Might make a good story. Oh look, they’re coming over . . .”
Johnnie reappears suddenly, breathless, pulling his jacket straight and fiddling with the buttons. His eyes glitter but he is smiling so it can’t be bad news. I smile back and tell myself to mind my own business.
Hector and Eva are heading our way, and Johnnie waves while James takes out a notebook and does the introductions. He fires a few smooth questions and scribbles the answers at high speed.
“We loved your act!” I tell them enthusiastically as James turns to a new page, and the pair beam at the rest of us. Up close they both look older. Hector has lines that don’t show on stage, and Eva’s heavy makeup only half disguises her wrinkles. Her hazel eyes are tired but the scarlet mouth smiles at us, showing off very white, even teeth.
“Thank you. We're really happy to be back in Brighton for a few months,” Hector says. His voice is softer, lower than it was on stage, and his whole demeanour is gentler and more approachable.
James asks a few more questions about their act, and then mentions that Alice is interested in writing a piece too. “Maybe an extra article to go with my review?”
Eva smiles. “Of course. We can arrange an interview if you like, Alice, or you can meet us at the theatre one night?” She has a slight foreign-sounding accent that surprises me. Unlike her husband, she seems to have stayed in character.
“That would be great,” Alice says, glowing with an enthusiasm that seems totally at odds with what little I have seen of her personality. She continues in that same girlish, over-excited vein. “I would love to ask you how you made a change from running the ice cream van to creating such a successful magic show. My mum was saying she used to look forward to you driving up the road when she was little. She lived on the White Oak estate, so maybe you remember . . .” She trails off, confused by the response.