by Bill Kitson
‘Who is it?’
Pickersgill shook his head. ‘That’s the problem; I don’t know. None of us do, not even Ogden. The man he’s charged refuses to give his name. In fact, from what I was told, he’s refused to utter a single word since he was apprehended. All I know is what Ogden told me. Apparently the man is a tramp, who has been living rough in Rowandale Forest. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about him, would you?’
‘Me, why should I know anything?’
I don’t think my air of innocence deceived Pickersgill for even a split second, for he eyed me with deep suspicion. ‘What happened?’ I asked, keen to change the subject. ‘How did Ogden come to arrest him?’
‘That’s part of the reason I’m here; part of the reason I thought you might know something about this mystery man. Apparently, Ogden was far from convinced that Barbara Lewis had nothing to do with her husband’s murder. He reasoned that she might well have arranged for someone else to kill her husband, ensuring that she had a cast-iron alibi for the time of the murder. With that in mind, he set up covert surveillance on Linden House and they apprehended the tramp first thing this morning as he was leaving the house. He managed to elude them, but in the process he caught his foot on a stone as he was vaulting the wall alongside the stable block. He wasn’t injured, only winded, but it gave Ogden and Boy Blunder chance to put the handcuffs on him. Ogden’s been questioning him all day, but so far he hasn’t got a single word out of the man.’
Pickersgill paused, and then dealt the second of his hammer blows. ‘He’s also been trying to get something out of his other detainee, but Barbara Lewis isn’t talking either.’
He saw my look of surprise. ‘Oh yes, Ogden has charged Barbara too. At the moment he’s only got her as an accessory to three murders, but knowing Ogden, within twenty-four hours he’ll probably have added treason and several other charges to his list. He’s not very happy that they won’t cooperate, even though Barbara did speak to confirm her name; and to ask that you and Miss Samuels be told of the arrests. That’s why I’m here. Now why do you think she would do that, if you don’t know what’s going on?’
The question was unanswerable, so I did the only thing I could think of, which was to ignore it. ‘Would you like a cup of tea? I’ll put the kettle on and give Eve a shout.’
He nodded acceptance, and I went to the bottom of the stairs and called for Eve to join us. The problem I now faced was how to consult Eve on whether to reveal what we knew without giving the game away to Pickersgill. Amiable and friendly he might have been, but he was still a serving police officer with a job to do. As it transpired, thankfully, his opening remarks to Eve solved the problem for me.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, but this is urgent. Ogden has arrested the tramp and Barbara Lewis. The tramp won’t give his name, and Barbara requested we inform you, so Ogden asked me to come and find out what you know about the man.’
‘He thinks because Barbara mentioned us, we must be privy to all her secrets,’ I added quickly. ‘John doesn’t believe me, so I thought you might be able to persuade him.’
I stressed the last few words slightly. I’m not sure whether Pickersgill caught the emphasis, but Eve certainly did. ‘I’m sorry,’ she told him with a sweet smile, ‘I’ve no idea, but she might open up to me, if you want me to try? Are they being kept in custody or whatever you call it overnight?’
‘That’s right. They’re being held in Thorsby police station until tomorrow morning, when they’ll be transferred to the cells at Dinsdale.’
‘Then we ought to go to Thorsby first thing. Perhaps if you let me speak to her I might be able to help,’ Eve said. ‘What time will the transfer take place?’
‘Not until after Ogden gets there, so we’re talking about nine o’clock at the earliest. But you’ll need me along to get you in.’
We arranged to collect Pickersgill early the next day, and when he’d left, we discussed tactics. ‘Obviously, neither of them is ready to reveal Brian’s identity yet, so perhaps we should keep quiet about it?’ I suggested.
‘I think we’ll have to, at least for the time being.’
‘But if they’re held in custody for any length of time I think we’ll have to speak out. I’m concerned for what Latimer might be going through. Barbara told us about how claustrophobic he is as a result of his Vietnam ordeal. I’m worried that being in a police cell for a few days and nights might do his mental state irreparable damage.’
By 7.30 the next morning we had collected Pickersgill and were on our way to the small market town of Thorsby, which housed the police station where Ogden and his team had set up their base for the murder enquiries. It was one of those units that didn’t warrant opening twenty-four hours a day. Crime in the area was not exactly rife, and the expense wasn’t considered justifiable. Out of office hours, the station was closed except when there were guests in their cells, when two uniformed officers would be in charge overnight. Pickersgill told us that the men liked the task as it meant valuable overtime, and in one case at least, got him away from his wife. Their usual duty was to supervise the board and lodging of any otherwise law-abiding citizens who had over-indulged their taste for alcoholic refreshment. Taking control of two people charged with murder was, he believed, a unique event in the station’s history.
‘This rural idyll isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,’ Eve told us as I manoeuvred the car round the tight bends of Bleak Fell. ‘I never used to get up this early in London.’
I swung the wheel to circumnavigate the final hairpin before reaching the summit. Ahead and to the west, the undulating hills and valleys of the Dales were visible in the early morning light. It was a clear morning, with a touch of frost in the air, and the view was staggeringly beautiful, stretching all the way to where the Pennines, the spine of northern England, ran north to south.
I gestured in front of me. ‘On the other hand, you don’t get views like that in London.’
‘I suppose you’re right, but the view would still be the same in a couple of hours’ time, wouldn’t it?’
‘Some women are never satisfied. You have superb scenery, a quiet rural life–and me. What more could you want?’
‘Hah! A quiet rural life? Is that what you call it? I like your terminology. I suppose you think it’s quiet because there have only been three murders in the past fortnight? I’d hate to think how many there would be when it gets busy.’
‘It was peaceful until you arrived. There hadn’t been a murder for ages. You seem to attract them. Look what happened last Christmas. You arrived and dead bodies appeared all over the place.’
‘It’s lucky for you that you’re driving this car otherwise I might be tempted to add to the body count.’
I glanced in the rear-view mirror in time to see the grin on Pickersgill’s face. ‘I don’t know what you’re laughing at. I hope you’ve taken note of what she said, Officer. That was a clear and unmistakeable threat from a woman with a history of violence. Did you know that within a couple of hours of meeting her, she’d given me a black eye? Totally unprovoked, it was.’
Eve interrupted, ‘Unprovoked? I like that. A total distortion of the truth. Ignore him, John. I’ll have you know it was Adam that assaulted me.’
‘I didn’t assault you; all I did was kiss you.’
‘Yes, and look where that landed you.’
I gave her a sideways glance and Eve suddenly realized I’d put a totally different interpretation on her words to the one she’d intended. ‘I meant in that dungeon,’ she hissed.
‘Oh, I thought it meant when you seduced me. I tell you, she’s a very wicked woman, John.’
‘Don’t bring me into your squabbles. I was just thinking that you sound like an old married couple. It’s as if I never left home this morning.’
It was still well before the normal opening time for the station when we pulled up outside. Thorsby’s streets were still deserted, and the few pedestrians and cars that were about all seemed to be heading
for the nearby marketplace.
‘We’ll have time for a cuppa, and I should be able to persuade the duty officers to allow you to have a word with Barbara Lewis before Ogden gets here,’ Pickersgill told us as he opened the rear door of the car.
He stopped in the process of getting out and muttered, ‘That’s strange.’
‘What is?’ Eve and I asked in unison.
‘The front door of the station; it’s wide open. It shouldn’t be. They never leave it open out of office hours.’
‘Maybe one of them stepped outside for a fag, or went to collect bacon butties for their breakfast,’ Eve suggested. ‘Come to think of it, I could murder one myself.’
‘Perhaps you’re right.’ Pickersgill didn’t sound convinced, but I don’t think any of us was prepared for what we found after Eve and I followed him into the station.
The tiny reception area and the small office, which was little more than a cubicle, to the left of it were both deserted. The only sign of life was the music, which we could hear coming from a transistor radio in the office.
‘They usually sit in there,’ John told us, pointing to the room. ‘They listen to the radio, or read, or do crosswords. Most of the time I think they try to sleep. One of them at least ought to be in there. I’d better go check the cells.’
As he opened the door leading to the corridor containing the cells we could see that it too was deserted. I was beginning to feel as those who had first boarded the Marie Celeste must have, finding the ship abandoned. Eve and I waited, but not for long. After a few seconds Pickersgill returned, his pace little short of a headlong stampede.
‘Prisoners all present and correct?’ I asked, but then stopped short as I noticed the expression on his face.
‘There are prisoners in the cells, right enough.’ As he spoke, Pickersgill went through into the office. ‘They may be present, but they’re certainly not correct.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that the prisoners in the cells aren’t the ones who were supposed to be there.’
He snatched a bunch of keys from the top of the desk and Eve and I followed him into the corridor. We watched as he tried several keys from the bunch before he succeeded in opening the first of the cell doors, and we were able to see the man sitting uncomfortably on the narrow, hard bunk on one side of the small room.
His discomfort didn’t stem from the bed, but from his wrists, which were secured behind his back with handcuffs; and the handkerchief which had been converted into a makeshift gag. Only the stripes on the sleeves of his tunic showed he was a sergeant. Eve and I exchanged glances of astonishment as we watched Pickersgill remove the gag and as he tried to find a key to fit the handcuffs, the sergeant began his explanation. It was one he’d had plenty of time to rehearse, we learned as he told his tale.
‘It was about nine o’clock last night when it happened. I know that because I was listening to the news on the radio. We heard the woman shouting; screaming for help, she was. She said the man in the cell next to her was having some sort of a fit. We opened the door and it looked like she was right. He was lying on the floor, writhing and thrashing about, his face all contorted and twitching, and foaming at the mouth. He was muttering something, but we couldn’t make sense of what he was saying. I told Joe to go phone for an ambulance whilst I went to put the prisoner in the recovery position, like we’re taught on the first aid courses. That was when he moved. I tell you; he was like greased lightning. One second he was on the floor, to all intents and purposes completely out of it; the next he was on his feet and he’d got me in some sort of fancy wrestling hold. Then I felt his fingers pressing on my neck and I passed out. When I came round I was handcuffed and gagged. What happened to Joe? Is he all right?’
‘He’s in the next cell,’ Pickersgill told him. ‘Looks as if he’s had the same treatment as you. I’ll go release him and we’ll find out. I’m still amazed that this man, whoever he is, managed to subdue the pair of you without you putting up a struggle.’ He shook his head. ‘There’s going to be a stewards’ enquiry about it when Ogden gets here, that’s for sure.’
‘Thanks for reminding me,’ the sergeant snapped. He massaged his wrist where the handcuff had chafed. ‘I was feeling bad enough already, John, without your help.’
Once we had watched the release of the constable, whose story matched that of his superior more or less word for word; Eve suggested we should leave before Ogden arrived.
‘No fear,’ I told her. ‘I wouldn’t miss this for all the tea in China. If I’d known beforehand I could have sold tickets for it. We’re not in London now; we have to make our own entertainment around here.’
Eve gave me a long, thoughtful stare. ‘I never realized it, but there’s a streak of sadism in you, Adam Bailey.’
‘Adam’s right,’ Pickersgill interrupted. ‘You ought to stay. Not for the amusement part, although that will be worth witnessing. However, if you’re here it just might rein in Ogden from calling down the wrath of the Almighty on those two. Either that, or blowing a gasket,’ he added with a grin.
As we waited for the inspector to arrive, most of the time was spent fending off or ignoring John’s questions regarding the identity of the tramp, as he referred to Barbara’s companion. ‘You do realize this will merely reinforce Ogden’s opinion that the pair of them must be guilty, don’t you?’
I acknowledged the truth of this. To anyone who didn’t know Latimer’s background and his dreadful claustrophobia, their actions in going on the run from police custody could only be construed as having sinister implications. ‘That may be so, but there could be other reasons for them to have run away.’
‘Such as? I can’t think of one offhand.’
Neither could I. Not one I could reveal without risking exposing Brian Latimer’s identity and alluding to the nature of his relationship with Barbara, which is exactly what Eve and I were trying to avoid. I chose my words very carefully as I replied. ‘If I was you, I would attempt to discourage Ogden from that line of thinking. Believe me, it wouldn’t do him or his career any good whatsoever. That might sound like an idle threat at present, but I feel sure eventually you will recognize the soundness of my advice.’
‘What I do recognize is that the pair of you are withholding information in a big way. You’re lucky we’re not having this conversation in front of Ogden, or he’d have you thrown in the cells for obstruction.’
That, as it turned out, was what Ogden threatened. His initial reaction to the news of the jailbreak was predictably explosive. After some minutes, he calmed down, which I guessed was because shock, disbelief, and fear of the consequences had begun to take over. Having listened to the sergeant’s tale twice, he searched for a scapegoat other than the two hapless uniformed officers. He didn’t have to look far. His opening words made it clear we had been selected for that dubious distinction. ‘You’re in league with them, I’m certain of it. Can you vouch for your whereabouts last night?’
‘I take it you’re referring to the time the prison breakout occurred?’
My flippant description of the escape enraged Ogden even more. ‘Nine o’clock it happened. Where were you then?’
‘At home.’
‘At home? Oh, how very convenient.’ I have to admit that Ogden did a very good sneer when he put his mind to it. ‘And I suppose you have only each other to witness your alibi.’
‘Er…no, as a matter of fact there was someone else.’
‘Oh yes, another close friend, I suppose. Someone you can rely on to cover for you.’
‘Not exactly a close friend; and I don’t think you should make slanderous suggestions about people until you know the full circumstances.’
I have to admit I was drawing it out, tormenting Ogden. But then, I reckoned he’d earned it.
‘Very well,’ he breathed heavily, ‘Who is this reliable witness?’
I gestured to my left, where John was talking to the other officers. ‘PC Pickersgill. He came to our ho
use to relay a message from you. I know he’ll confirm the time, because he checked his watch when our lounge clock struck the hour.’
Ogden seethed in silence for a few minutes, then; thwarted in his attempt to prove our direct involvement in the truancy, changed his point of attack. ‘You may not have been involved personally, but I’m sure you know far more about it than you’ve told us. I would be well within my rights to have you locked up for obstruction.’
‘I wouldn’t risk it,’ I told him. ‘Remember, I have a lot of friends and former colleagues in the national and international media. One or two phonecalls and they’d be here like a shot. If I was you, I’d be tempted to remain a local laughing stock rather than ruin your reputation worldwide. Added to which, you’ve not exactly got a good record when it comes to keeping hold of prisoners, have you? I mean, locked up two, mislaid two isn’t much of a recommendation for your security measures, is it?’
For a moment, I wondered if I’d pushed Ogden too far. He looked as if he was about to explode. I was concerned that his blood pressure might be reaching dangerously high levels, so attempted to calm him down. My efforts met with mixed success.
‘Look, Inspector, let’s be straight about this. We know very little more than you do. What we are sure of is that Barbara Lewis could not have committed these crimes, either herself or by proxy. I also think you could be treading on dangerous ground if you continue to pursue the stranger everyone refers to as a tramp. I’ve only seen him a couple of times, but anyone less like a tramp you could not imagine. It would be dangerously foolish to underestimate someone simply because they prefer the simple outdoor life. It does not necessarily mean that they’re impoverished, or dishonest–or,’ I added with great emphasis, ‘that they lack powerful and influential friends who could have a detrimental influence on your career.’
At the time I was speaking the veiled threat in my final statement was little more than guesswork. It was a week or so later before another of my prophecies was fulfilled, and the extent of Latimer’s influence became apparent.