A Fool and His Money

by Marina Pascoe

  ‘Well, if you’re sure.’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘Well, let me hear you bolt the door when I leave – and take Topper upstairs with you.’

  Boase pulled Irene to him and kissed her again.

  ‘I don’t want to leave you on your own.’

  ‘Just go, Archie. I’ve got Topper – he’ll look after me.’

  ‘Goodnight, Irene.’

  ‘Goodnight, Archie.’

  Irene closed the door and giggled as Boase opened the letterbox and called through it.

  ‘Don’t forget the bolt – I’m waiting.’

  She secured the door and went to bed.

  Irene didn’t know what had woken her up. The moon shone a beam of light through a gap in the curtains and, using that, she looked at the little clock beside the bed. It was ten past two. She looked down beside the bed. Topper was sitting up and looking at the door. Irene whispered to him.

  ‘What is it, Topper? Did you hear something, boy?’

  She put her hand on Topper’s collar and felt the hairs stiffening on his neck. He let out a low growl. Irene walked slowly to the door. She peered out onto the landing and went downstairs, Topper closely at her heels. Her heart was racing. She heard a loud crash in the back garden and Topper, hearing it too, ran to the kitchen, barking loudly. Irene followed and tried to look through the window. The moon had disappeared and Irene could see nothing. She was shaking now. She sat on the kitchen floor with her arms around Topper and sobbed.

  ‘Topper, I think we should go and get Archie. Come on, boy.’

  She pulled on her coat over her pyjamas and a pair of gumboots which were in the hall. She clipped Topper’s lead onto his collar and slowly drew back the bolt. Cautiously she looked about her and went out into the front garden. Closing the door behind her, she and Topper made their way up Penmere Hill and on towards Melvill Road. Reaching Boase’s lodgings, in a moment of calm, she thought to herself how stupid she must look, although she had seen no one on her way here. More importantly, how was she going to let Archie know that she was here? She couldn’t just knock at the door and risk waking Mrs Curgenven. As she paused by the gate, Topper began to wag his tail and let out a joyful whine, followed by a little bark. He wagged his tail faster as the object of his affection came into view across the lawn.

  ‘Irene? Is that you? What on earth …?’

  Irene spun round to see Boase jump across the front garden wall and onto the pavement.

  ‘Archie! You almost frightened the life out of me. What are you doing here at this time of night?’

  ‘It is I who should be surprised to see you – and in your nightclothes too. What on earth has happened, Irene?’

  Boase put his arm around his girl and held her close. Suddenly feeling secure, Irene now felt not a little embarrassed.

  ‘Promise you won’t laugh?’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I woke up – and Topper woke up too. We both heard a noise in the garden and we went down to see what it was. Well, then, I got a bit scared and decided to come and find you. I thought I’d be OK on my own … and I was until I heard that.’

  Boase hugged her tighter.

  ‘Well, you might have put some day clothes on first. Come on, I’ll take you back.’

  ‘Archie?’

  ‘Yes, my love?’

  ‘You haven’t explained why you’re out here.’

  ‘Well, believe it or not, I couldn’t sleep and I got worried about you. So I was about to come over to see if you were all right, make sure the house was secure.’

  ‘It is. You saw for yourself. But thank you. I’m so glad you thought about me.’

  ‘I’m always thinking about you, Irene.’

  They made their way back to Penmere. Boase went inside with Irene.

  ‘Go on. You go up to bed – I’m not leaving you alone tonight. I’ll sleep down here on the couch.’

  ‘I can’t let you do that, Archie. I’ll be fine now.’

  ‘Don’t you want me here?’

  ‘Of course I do. I love having you near me – you make me feel safe.’

  ‘Then go on – off to bed. You’ve still got time to get some sleep.’

  Boase kissed Irene and settled down on the couch.

  ‘Shall I get you a blanket, Archie?’

  ‘No. It’s not cold. Goodnight, Irene.’

  ‘Goodnight, Archie – and thank you.’

  Boase, feeling extremely weary, left the Bartlett house and went home to change into his work clothes. He grabbed a few things from the pantry and shoved them into his pocket for later. By nine o’clock he was sitting at his desk. He yawned and delved into his pocket. He drew out two paper bags; one contained a slice of veal and ham pie, the other, a large piece of cheese. Deciding that this fare would be far too dry, he went in search of tea.

  As he reached the lobby he bumped into Penhaligon.

  ‘Good morning, Penhaligon – I was looking for tea?’

  ‘Well, as luck would have it, I’ve just made some. Shall I bring it in?’

  ‘No, I’ll come and get it. Boase followed Penhaligon to a small kitchen area and poured himself a cup of tea.’

  ‘Oh. A letter arrived for you this morning, Archie. I’ll fetch it for you.’

  Seconds later, Boase was tearing open the envelope. He carefully read the contents.

  Dear Boase,

  Please let Irene know that we’ve arrived here safely and that we are both well.

  Boase, I’ve been thinking – about our case. I can’t let this rest. I want you to do something for me. I’m already bored out of my mind here and it’s only day one but you realise I have to do this for Caroline – otherwise I would come with you.

  I want you to go back to Hunter’s Path – where Clicker was found. Don’t tell anyone where you are going and be sure to go alone. Go during daylight hours. There is something. I don’t know what it is, but there is something. Maybe a small clue we overlooked: Greet isn’t the world’s best sleuth, but you, Boase – well, you’ve got a good brain. Search until you find something. I know you’re busy but there’s a definite whiff of haddock in the air and I mean to get to the bottom of this.

  Be sure Greet doesn’t discover what you’re doing. If you find anything, please God you do, then let me know when I return. I’ll be back on the 25th.

  Take care of Irene.

  All the best

  George Bartlett

  Boase took his tea back to his office and re-read Bartlett’s letter. What was the old man up to? He must have posted this yesterday as soon as he had arrived at Perranporth. Boase couldn’t help thinking that this was turning into a vendetta against Greet. There had been two murders and, as far as most people could see, two people were fairly tried and paid the penalty for the crimes. Boase didn’t really understand what Bartlett was asking him to do. He respected his superior but couldn’t see why he was dragging this whole affair out. He finished the tea and took a bite out of the pie. He stuck his head around the door and called Penhaligon into his office.

  ‘Penhaligon, come in a moment. Is Greet in today?’

  ‘Not until two o’clock, I think. Let me just check to be sure.’

  Penhaligon disappeared and returned with the station diary.

  ‘No, my mistake. Three o’clock – look, here.’

  ‘Even better.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Nothing, Penhaligon. Look, I’ve got to go out on an errand for Inspector Bartlett but I don’t want anyone to know I’m doing it.’

  ‘Bit secretive is it?’

  Penhaligon was grinning.

  ‘Seriously, Penhaligon. No one has seen me yet except you. Keep it that way. I’m going out now and I’ll be back as soon as I can. You haven’t seen me – right?’

  ‘Right. No problem. See you later.’

  Boase took his coat and left the station to investigate Hunter’s Path in accordance with Bartlett’s wishes.

  Boase decided to take full adva
ntage of Greet’s absence and took a walk across the seafront. He paused a couple of times to observe a few boats on the water then went up to Pendennis Castle and headed for the moat. Once there he walked part way around the moat wondering what he was looking for, when he eventually came nearer to the murder site. He wanted to be clear in his mind before he looked again. What was Bartlett thinking? What had they missed? Boase couldn’t get anything straight in his head and so carried on walking until he reached the place of the clown’s murder.

  Boase spent an hour here. He felt as though he had turned over every blade of grass, every leaf, every stone. He wiped his forehead and pushed back his hair. There was nothing. He sat down and reached for the piece of cheese in his pocket. He felt so tired. Now he was letting Bartlett down – or was he? There never was going to be anything. They’d been thorough. Greet said he’d been over the ground again afterwards. Bartlett would just have to accept that it was over.

  Boase ate his cheese and lay back against the grassy bank under a tree. The weak autumn sun felt relaxing on his face. He closed his eyes and listened to the seagulls chattering as they soared above him, listened to the wind rustling the last of the leaves in the trees and decided that going over old ground was fruitless. He fell asleep.

  A while later he stirred, still half asleep. Yet awake enough to be churning events over in his mind. No point going over old ground … old ground. He opened his eyes. The sun had disappeared and now the wind was whipping across his face. He lay there for a moment or two. As he watched the autumn leaves tumbling from the trees he was reminded he was laying in the exact spot where Clicker had been found. He couldn’t waste any more time on this, he’d have to go back to the station. Bartlett would be disappointed. At that moment Boase heard two seagulls fighting above his head. As he watched them his eyes were drawn closer to the tree. He was staring now. What was that in the branches? Something was swaying to and fro above him. He looked harder. No! It couldn’t be – how on earth …?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Boase stood at the foot of the tree, looking up. He needed to climb the precarious branches to retrieve what he had just seen – what had just become visible amongst the few remaining leaves which had been clinging on to life since the summer months had come to an end and autumn had arrived. He had to get up there. This could be what Bartlett had asked him for. But, even George Bartlett could never have expected this. Never. If Boase’s eyes weren’t deceiving him from his position on the ground under that sparse tree, well, this could change everything and cause untold trouble.

  Boase began to climb. As he reached the object of his interest, he lunged forward and attempted to grab it from the branch. Suddenly, with the shift in his weight, the branch he had been standing on snapped and Boase tumbled to the ground. The pain seared through his right ankle and lower leg. He lay on the grass, unable to move. He looked up again – he had been so close. Now what? As he lay there thinking how he could get back up – and he had to get back up there for Bartlett, he heard voices. He tried to sit up as a young girl came into view. She was running in Boase’s direction, laughing. Soon, a young man came running up. He grabbed the girl and kissed her. Neither of them had seen Boase. The girl was giggling and the man kissed her again and, laying his coat at his feet, pulled her down onto the bank.

  ‘Oh, no.’

  Boase was muttering under his breath. He didn’t want to see any more. He really didn’t. He coughed. He coughed again. The girl looked across and let out a small squeal.

  ‘Teddy – look. There’s a man over there.’

  Teddy, irritated at the intrusion, looked at Boase. He got up immediately and ran across the grass. He looked at Boase.

  ‘I say! Are you all right, old man? What happened to you?’

  This was the last thing Boase wanted. How to explain this now?

  ‘I’m not really sure – I think I must have tripped over something and I fell.’

  The man looked about him.

  ‘Well, I don’t see anything here, old sport. What say I help you up?’

  ‘No – really, thanks but I’m fine. I can manage.’

  Too late. The man was already pulling Boase to his feet – with some difficulty, Boase being at least six inches taller and of a bigger build than his rescuer. Boase tried to stand, all the while hoping that the man wouldn’t look up into the tree; that he could never explain. Boase straightened himself and brushed off his coat.

  ‘That’s very kind of you – I can manage now. Thank you.’

  The man remained. Boase coughed.

  ‘Really, you don’t need to worry.’

  ‘Can I give you a lift – back into the town maybe? That ankle is beginning to swell up, you’ll have trouble walking on it. I’m a doctor by the way –Teddy Bennett.’

  Bennett held out his hand and Boase shook it.

  ‘Archie Boase. Really, Dr Bennett, I can manage.’

  A gust of wind blew still more leaves down from the tree and Boase twitched visibly at the thought of his find being discovered by anyone but him – he could never explain that. Luckily, Teddy’s girl was impatient.

  ‘Teddy, come on, darling. The gentleman has told you he doesn’t need help. Let’s go.’

  ‘All right, Felicity, I’m coming.’

  The doctor patted Boase on the back and walked off towards Felicity. He turned and waved and Boase waved back, relieved that the pair had gone. That could have been disastrous, he thought.

  Boase looked up again. How could he get back into the tree? He could barely walk, so bad was the pain. He took a few paces towards the trunk and, scrabbling to get a hold with his fingers, put his left foot up, the bark crumbling beneath his shoe, then the right one. The pain cut him like a knife. He couldn’t stop now. Not now he’d seen this – Bartlett was right and this had to be sorted out. He climbed a little higher, beads of sweat forming on his brow. He stopped to rest, hardly believing what had just happened – he hadn’t fallen out of a tree since he was six. His breath returned, he climbed again and reached almost the same spot as before. The original branch lying on the ground beneath him, he reached for another. Now he could reach … he had to reach. He extended his arm. Another branch cracked. He stretched again and dragged the object towards himself. He heaved a sigh of relief. Slowly now he began the descent. As he reached the ground, he stumbled and fell down. He looked at his ankle. Yes, it was swollen – and very painful. Boase didn’t know how he would make the walk back but, for now, he had to examine what he had just discovered.

  Boase sat for ten minutes with the gun in his lap. It was attached to a sort of rubberised, stretchy band. Boase pulled the band. It was able to be extended a good few feet, he thought. He examined the gun. One bullet was missing. Boase now had an idea about this but didn’t want to believe what he was thinking. He didn’t want to imagine telling Bartlett what he thought. He didn’t want to imagine Bartlett telling Greet what he thought.

  He spent over an hour walking back to Melvill Road. He went inside and slowly climbed the stairs to his room. He took off his shoe and, rolling up his trouser leg, looked at his ankle. The swelling was really bad now – but hopefully just a sprain. As he sat wondering how to deal with this problem he heard a noise against the window, a volley of pebbles. He went over and looked down into the garden. It was Irene. He pulled up the window and leaned out.

  ‘Irene – what’s up. Are you OK?’

  ‘I’m fine, Archie – I didn’t know if you’d be in. I forgot that Dad left an address for you. He said you might need it if you wanted to contact him while he’s away.’

  ‘I do need to contact him actually, Irene. I’ll come down – I might be a while.’

  Boase carefully negotiated the stairs and opened the front door. As he walked out into the garden, Irene ran to him.

  ‘Archie – what on earth has happened to you? Oh, you poor dear.’

  ‘Would you believe I fell out of a tree?’

  ‘Aren’t you a bit old for climbing trees?’<
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  ‘Well, yes, but don’t ask questions now, please, Irene. I need to get a message to your father. I need to write him a letter – will he get it tomorrow?’

  ‘Archie – if it’s urgent, send him a telegram!’

  ‘Oh, yes, I hadn’t thought of that.’

  Irene smiled.

  ‘Shall I do it for you – you can’t walk with your ankle so bad?’

  ‘If you like – but I have to be at work tomorrow. I’ll just try and rest it; it’s probably only a sprain. Look, all you need to do is send this message – that is, if you wouldn’t mind.’

  ‘I offered, didn’t I?’

  Boase drew a piece of paper and a pencil from his pocket and wrote a short message on it. He gave it to Irene and she looked at it.

  ‘What’s wrong, Archie? This says you’ve found something that Dad needs to know about. Is everything all right?’

  ‘Yes, don’t worry, but I’ll be very glad when your father returns home.’

  ‘Well, if I go now, I should just be in time to send this. Why don’t you come over later and I’ll make you some food? If you can walk, that is?’

  ‘Well, yes, that would be lovely. Thanks.’

  ‘Come at about seven then?’

  ‘Will do. Thanks, Irene. See you later.’

  Irene left Boase and went to send the telegram.

  Boase took remedial action with his injury and walked slowly to the Bartlett house; it felt painful as he walked and he began to limp more but nothing would keep him from his girl. Irene was waiting at the gate and she ran up the road to meet him. She slipped her arm through his.

  ‘Archie, that looks very bad. You should get someone at the hospital to look at it.’

  ‘Irene, please stop fussing.’

  Irene looked up at him and he kissed her forehead. She squeezed his arm.

  ‘Promise me that if it gets any worse, you’ll get someone to deal with it? You can’t go to work like this, you can barely walk.’

  ‘Irene, please. I promise – and yes, I can. I’m sure it’ll be better by then.’