‘And…how do you know all this?’ asked Luke. ‘Is it from the police?’ If Walter thought the rector was quizzing him rather too intensely he did not show it.
‘No, it was Jennifer. It seems that she’s got friendly wi’ one o’ them soldiers an’ all, an’ he came to tell her last night that they’d taken his mate in for questioning. He was in a fair old state, she said – her friend, I mean – about his pal. And I don’t suppose t’other chap’s too happy about it neither.’
Luke continued to watch the farmer attentively. ‘No, I don’t suppose he is,’ he replied, ‘especially if the poor fellow is innocent.’
For the first time he saw a flicker of unease on Walter’s face. It was, in fact, the first time during the conversation that the man had looked at him directly. Walter’s eyes were wary. ‘What d’yer mean?’ he said. ‘They must think it’s suspicious, like, to take him in…’ His voice petered out under the scrutiny of the rector’s gaze. Luke could see the naked fear there now, in his pale blue eyes. If he had not been wholly sure, before, that Walter had committed this awful crime, the terror on his face now was all the proof that Luke needed. ‘I mean to say…’ Walter mumbled.
‘Yes, exactly what do you mean to say, Walter?’ asked Luke quietly. ‘Do you mean to say that you would let an innocent man suffer, when you know all too well…’
‘If the chap’s innocent, then they’ll prove it,’ retorted Walter. His eyes narrowed as he stared back at Luke. ‘What d’you mean…when I know? What am I supposed to know?’
They had walked as far as an empty barn and when Luke stepped inside the open door Walter followed him. Luke turned to face him. ‘Walter, you were overheard,’ he said, ‘on the path behind the church, the night of the choir practice. You and Priscilla. She was shouting for you to let go of her, to leave her alone. The…person who was there heard quite enough of what was going on to be suspicious. And then when Priscilla’s body was found…’
For a moment Walter looked defiant. ‘And ’ow d’you know that what this…person says is true? It sounds like some busybody out to make trouble. Who was it anyroad? Because…it’s a lie…’
‘You don’t need to know who it was,’ said Luke. ‘But I have no reason to doubt their word. Why? Are you denying that you were there on Thursday night with Priscilla, that you were…talking together?’ Luke’s steadfast gaze was too much for Walter. He shook his head confusedly.
‘No, I suppose not. But they’ve got it all wrong. We were having a bit of a laugh, that’s all. Me and Priscilla, we were friends, like…with her working on t’ farm. I’ve got to know her…’
Suddenly Walter put his head into his hands. He was breathing loudly, in short gasps, then he began to sob. His words were forced out a few at a time on his rasping breath. ‘I didn’t mean it… I never meant to kill her… It were an accident. She was such a little thing…a little frail thing…’
Luke took hold of him by his upper arms. ‘Walter, just tell me about it,’ he said firmly, but quite sympathetically.
‘I shook her…’ said Walter, sounding bemused. ‘That’s all I did. I shook her to stop her from shouting. Me hands must’ve been round her throat. I didn’t know…I didn’t realise. She was making so much bloody row, so I kept on shaking her hard. An’ then…she’d gone all limp in me hands, an’ her head flopped over. I was frightened to death. I’ve never been so scared in all me life… So I just left her there. I tried to cover her up a bit… But we’d done nowt, honest we hadn’t. I mean…it weren’t rape or owt like that.’
Luke nodded. ‘Yes…I see.’ He would have liked to say that he understood, but he could not do so; neither did he know what he must do about this dreadful situation. Walter’s head dropped forward, his chin on his chest. He started to mumble, as much to himself as to Luke.
‘She was a tease, that girl. She led me on summat dreadful. Happen she didn’t mean to. Happen she were t’ same with all the men, wi’ her smiles and her laughs. We had many a good laugh together me and her… An’ if I wanted a bit more who could blame me, eh?’ He looked up then at Luke. ‘I’m a normal man, an’ I’ve got me feelings and me needs an’ all. Ada’s not interested no more in that sort o’ thing, an’ I won’t force meself on her. We’ve got our three kids, an’ as far as Ada’s concerned that’s the end of it. She’s a good wife, but I want a bit more than that. Priscilla were such a pretty little lass, so happy and friendly. I was sure she liked me…’ He buried his head in his hands, still weeping quietly.
‘But you mistook her friendliness for something that she didn’t intend, Walter,’ said Luke. ‘I do know what you mean. It is possible that…she might have given the wrong impression.’ He felt anger and revulsion at what Walter had done, but he felt compassion as well. He, Luke, was fortunate because he had a wife who was loving in every way; but he understood, too, the frailty of some men, and Walter Nixon was one of them.
‘What are you going to do?’ asked Walter gruffly. ‘Are you going to tell the police that it was me?’
Luke was silent for a moment. Then, ‘I can’t do that,’ he said. ‘It would not be right for me to say anything. What you have told me, you have done so in confidence; and what the…other person told me must remain confidential too.’
‘What about him…or her? Will they say owt?’
‘I can give you my assurance that they will not,’ replied Luke. ‘But surely…it is up to you, isn’t it? You cannot let someone else…suffer, when you know that he is innocent.’
‘I can’t let him hang, you mean,’ said Walter. His hand went involuntarily to his neck and his eyes grew wide with terror. ‘That’s what’d happen, isn’t it? He’d be hanged. That’s what they do with murderers. No…’ He shook his head. ‘I know I can’t let that happen. But I’m scared, Luke. I’m bloody terrified. I daren’t give meself up.’
‘You have told me it was an accident,’ said Luke, ‘and I, for one, believe you. I know you didn’t mean to do it. And I would speak up for you; I would do anything I possibly could to help you. I know that, fundamentally, you are a good man. But it is for you to decide what you have to do. I am going to leave you now, Walter. No one has heard us talking and your secret is safe with me. Please tell Ada that I have been to commiserate with you about Priscilla. I don’t feel that I want to talk to her just at the moment… God bless you, Walter.’
Briefly he touched the man’s arm, then Luke walked away, leaving Walter rooted to the spot, staring after his retreating back.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I’ve just been over to the farm to have a chat with Walter Nixon,’ Luke told Patience on his return to the rectory. ‘I knew he was sure to be in a state of shock, with Priscilla having been one of his land girls.’
It was true that the farmer was in a state of shock, but what Luke was telling his wife was only half the truth. He felt conscience-stricken; he could not remember any other time when he had been less that completely honest with her. But the burden of his knowledge must remain his and his alone. It would not be right to trouble Patience with it, especially at the moment when she was in the early stages of carrying their child. That stupendous news had had to be put to the back of his mind, but he found it surfacing from time to time in his thoughts, bringing a momentary upsurge of joy in the midst of his consuming worry about Walter Nixon.
‘Yes; I should imagine that Priscilla, and Jennifer as well, had become almost like members of the family,’ said Patience. ‘Ada Nixon told me that they were both very good workers. Oh Luke…it is such a tragedy, and such a wicked wicked deed! I suppose there is no news yet about…about who was responsible?’
Luke remained silent, for so long that Patience looked at him curiously. ‘What’s the matter? Have they arrested somebody?’ she asked.
‘I believe…they have taken a young man in for questioning,’ he replied carefully, ‘so Walter told me. A soldier that Priscilla met recently, from the camp at Catterick. He is called Jeff Beaumont and that’s all that I know ab
out him. Jennifer told me – when I spoke to her yesterday at Miss Thomson’s – that Priscilla was supposed to be meeting him in the Green Man, after choir practice, but she didn’t turn up. Jennifer was there waiting for her with the two young men – Jeff and a friend – but there was no sign of Priscilla. So after a while they went back to their camp and Jennifer went home.’
‘Then…why have they arrested this Jeff?’ asked Patience. ‘It sounds as though he didn’t even see her that night.’
‘That puzzled me too,’ said Luke. He had, indeed, been turning the problem over and over in his mind. That young man was innocent, and there must, surely, be a way of proving it. But from what Jennifer had told him there were about twenty minutes unaccounted for when Jeff had been on his own, looking for Priscilla. He decided to tell Patience about this; she would think it strange if he did not tell her what he knew.
‘Apparently Jeff was worried,’ he continued, ‘and, according to Jennifer, he went off on his own to see if he could find Priscilla. When he came back, twenty minutes or so later, he told Jennifer and his pal that he had walked up as far as the church, circled the green, and then had gone back down the High Street to the pub. But I suppose the police are jumping to the conclusion that there was time, during those twenty minutes, for him to have…committed the murder. They will try to prove that he went up the lane and met her there…’ And it is up to me to prove that he didn’t, thought Luke desperately. Please God, he prayed silently, let me – or the police – find a way of proving it.
‘Of course, it is all what they call circumstantial evidence,’ he sighed. ‘There can’t be any definite proof that he killed Priscilla. He’s innocent…or so I firmly believe,’ he added, aware that he might have said too much. ‘We will just have to pray that there is no miscarriage of justice.’
‘You seem very sure of his innocence,’ said Patience, looking at him a little searchingly. ‘You don’t know this young soldier, do you?’
‘No, I don’t know him, but it’s a feeling that I have, a very strong feeling.’
Patience continued to look at him steadily, then she frowned, shaking her head perplexedly. ‘It was Thursday night, wasn’t it?’ she said, ‘when this dreadful thing took place. I’ve lost track of time with all that’s been happening, but there is something that is just coming back to me… Maisie came back from choir practice and she said she had left her gloves behind; do you remember, Luke?’
‘Yes…I found them for her the next morning. Why? Did she say anything else to you?’
‘No…but she seemed a bit worried about something. I asked her about it the next morning, but she said it was nothing. That wasn’t what I want to tell you, though; it’s something else… I went in to say goodnight to her, and to Audrey and Tim, like I always do, and then I went into our bedroom, Luke, and I stood by the window looking out into the night. It wasn’t quite as black as it is sometimes because the moon was shining, and it all looked so peaceful and quiet. I had really gone to pull the blackout blind and to draw the curtains, but I just stood there looking out at the green and the church and down the High Street.
‘And I remember now that I saw that young soldier – it must have been Priscilla’s friend, Jeff. He walked up from the High Street, and when he got to Miss Thomson’s house he stopped and looked at it for a moment…’
‘He didn’t go and knock at the door?’
‘No… If it was him, this Jeff – and I really think it must have been – perhaps Priscilla had told him that Miss Thomson wasn’t very keen on them having followers. No…he went on walking, past the school, then across the front of the church, then he went past our house and back down the High Street. But, Luke, he didn’t – he most definitely didn’t – go into the lane. I was standing in the bay, and I can see from there quite a long way down the street. I remember hearing the plod plod of his army boots on the pavement, growing fainter as he walked away. He was the only person in sight. I couldn’t say why I was watching him, but I was, and it’s only just come back to me. I suppose my mind was mainly on the doctor’s appointment I had the next day, and everything else just got pushed out.’
‘Well, thank God you’ve remembered now,’ cried Luke. ‘This could be really important, darling. Would you be willing to tell everything you have told me to the police? I really feel it might be a matter of life…or death.’
‘Yes, of course I will…but won’t they think it strange that I’ve only just remembered?’
‘Probably not. It was only an insignificant little incident at the time, but it could save that poor fellow’s life. Come along, my dear. There’s no time like the present. You and I will pay a visit to the police station… Where are the children?’
‘They’ve all gone down to the Saturday market. They have some spending money and I thought it was best to keep them busy. Luke…that night of the choir practice, do you think Maisie might have been worried because she had noticed something… strange?’
Luke pursed his lips. ‘I shouldn’t think so. She was probably just concerned about leaving her gloves. I wouldn’t question her any further if I were you, dear. It is best for her to get back to normal, and in time she won’t think about Priscilla quite as much. What time are you expecting them back for lunch?’
‘I told them to be back at half-past twelve. It will be just soup and sandwiches, and I shall cook a meal at teatime.’
Luke glanced at his watch. ‘It’s only just turned eleven. We can go to the police station and be back before twelve thirty.’
Thank you, thank you, Lord…he was saying over and over in his mind. If Patience’s evidence was enough to free the unfortunate young soldier, then that would be the greater part of his dilemma solved.
‘Thank you very much, Mrs Fairchild, for coming in,’ said the inspector after Patience had given him the details of what she had seen. ‘And you too of course, Reverend. This information is just what we needed…’
He paused, putting his elbows on the table and leaning towards them in a confidential manner. ‘Between you and me and the gatepost, we were just considering letting him go. There isn’t enough evidence to convict him, but he was the obvious suspect. Recent boyfriend of the deceased, and by his own admission he had been up as far as the church and back that evening. He swore blind he was innocent; of course, that’s what they all do, I know. But somehow I believed him – you get a nose for these things – and he seems a genuine trustworthy sort of lad. He went to pieces when he heard about the lass being murdered; that’s nothing to go by either, but I do believe now that it was the first he knew of it.’
‘We are glad to be able to help, Inspector Davies,’ said Luke. ‘Have you any more leads? Or perhaps I shouldn’t ask.’
‘It’s early days yet, but we’ll catch him, make no mistake about that. No…nothing definite, but I would be obliged, Reverend, if you could let me have the names and addresses of all the members of your choir. That was where the young lady had been on the evening in question, and it seems as though some of them might have been the last people to see her alive.’
Luke felt his heart give an extra loud thump. ‘Of course, certainly I will. I take it you mean just the menfolk in the choir? There are ladies as well, and several children, but surely you won’t want to question them?’
‘No, not the children. I did mean the men, primarily, but we ought to question the ladies as well. They might have noticed something suspicious without even realising it was so at the time.’
‘Quite so,’ replied Luke, trying to remain calm and in control of himself. ‘If you would like to call at the rectory I will let you have a list.’
‘We have spoken to Walter Nixon, the farmer that the young woman worked for; and he is in the choir as well, of course. It seems, at the moment, that he might have been the last person to see her that evening; he and a man called Tommy Allbright. Mr Nixon mentioned that they had both been chatting with her after the choir practice, then they said good night and left Priscilla on her own.’
‘Yes, I know them both very well,’ said Luke. ‘As a matter of fact, Tom Allbright is one of my church wardens.’
‘We will be having a word with him,’ said the inspector, ‘to confirm Mr Nixon’s story that they left Miss Meadows at the end of the lane. It is only routine, of course; we have no real reason to suspect either of them.’
Luke nodded. ‘Yes, I see…’ He felt quite sick with the worry of it all, but he knew he had to stand aside and let events take their course. Tempted as he was at that moment, he knew it would be very wrong to speak to Tom Allbright and ask him to substantiate Walter’s story. It would be encouraging him to tell an outright lie. He turned to his wife. ‘Come along, my dear. You have done your duty now and it’s time we were getting home.’
Patience smiled, gathering together her bag and her gloves. ‘Yes, and what a relief it is to have told you, Inspector Davies. I’m glad I’ve been able to help that young soldier.’
He stood up with them and accompanied them to the door. ‘Thank you both once again. I will call round for that list quite soon, or I will send my sergeant.’
The Sunday morning service was just about the most difficult one that Luke had ever had to conduct. The congregation was subdued and the choir sang less heartily and convincingly that usual. Luke noticed that Walter was there in his accustomed place, but to be absent, of course, would only have drawn attention to himself. Luke wondered what Maisie, sitting opposite to Walter, was thinking. What was going through that astute little mind of hers? She had not said anything about the murder to Luke since her disclosure; neither had Luke told her that Walter Nixon had actually admitted to the crime. Maybe, eventually, he would tell her. He might, in fact, be forced to tell her if things went badly for Walter. At the moment, though, he knew it was best not to mention either Priscilla or Walter to her at all.
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