by Caron Allan
‘What flat?’ Dottie asked, and at the same time, Flora said, ‘Yes? Then what happened?’
Valerie looked up and down the corridor. There were a couple of men coming along the corridor for cigarettes. She served them as quickly as she could, nervously fumbling with the change and the packets she handed to them. The men glanced at Flora and Dottie with intense curiosity.
‘Look, you’ve got to go,’ Valerie whispered, ‘if my boss comes along, I’ll be for it.’
‘We’ll go in a minute, when you’ve told us everything,’ Flora said. Valerie was almost in tears, and Dottie felt terrible.
‘Look, please, I don’t want to lose my job.’
‘You won’t,’ Dottie promised. ‘Quickly now, tell us the rest. It started off as a ruse to get a divorce, but he led you on and spoiled you with gifts and then you wondered if it was all too good to be true?’
Valerie threw an anguished look about her again. ‘Oh look, yes, all right,’ she hissed, ‘I did. I fell for him but nothing changed, he kept saying the same things, and so I followed him. He’d been here one afternoon for the matinee, we went for a drink and a bite to eat, then he brought me back here for my evening shift. But I’d asked for some time off, I said my mum was ill, but it was really just so I could follow him. I followed him back to the house. I saw that great big tall woman, his wife I suppose. She let him in the front door and I saw the way she looked at him. It was almost like she was bowing to him as he came in, and clutching at him, and he stepped right round her like he was scared stiff of her, like he was scared to go inside. I’ll admit I felt sorry for him.’
‘But then you knew for certain he was still married,’ Flora prompted.
‘Yes of course I did. So I told him I couldn’t see him no more. He asked me to go to the flat with him again, said he wanted to explain. But I said no, said I couldn’t see him anymore, not if he wasn’t serious about marrying me. And that was the end of it. It broke my heart, saying no to him. He was so generous and so charming, but in the end...’
‘And you never saw him again?’ Flora said. Valerie shook her head. Someone was coming. Dottie looked along the dimly-lit hall then glanced back at Valerie who looked panicky. Aloud, Valerie said, ‘Certainly, madam, here are the matches. And your husband’s cigars. Is that everything you needed?’
Along the hall, the shadowy figure had gradually assumed the form of a man in a cheap suit who stood watching them closely. Feeling that there was no alternative, Flora got out her purse and found the money.
‘I’ll just get your change, madam,’ Valerie, with an apologetic look, again speaking very loudly and clearly. She reached into the pocket of her uniform and loudly clinked some pennies into Flora’s hand.
‘There’s nothing else I can tell you. Please don’t come back here, I don’t want to get into trouble. Now go!’ Valerie hissed, adding more loudly, ‘Thank you Madam, enjoy the rest of the show.’
Feeling under obligation to keep the charade going, they returned to their box and waited. Perversely, just as they took their seats in the darkness, the house lights came up for the interval.
Chapter Twenty-one
The persistent rain that had fallen all the day had now turned into sleet.
Night came early, the streetlamps were lit and it wasn’t even four o’clock, and in spite of his greatcoat and hat, Hardy was chilled to the bone. He wanted nothing more than to go home and get warm. But he had one more call to make.
He mounted the steps to a gentlemen’s club called The Old Standard, and opened the door to get in out of the weather.
Just inside, right by the window next to the front door, the doorman was standing, watching the street, his uniform dry and spotless, testament to the fact that few members had arrived or left that afternoon, so he hadn’t needed to go outside and get wet.
‘Good evening, sir,’ the doorman said, and he couldn’t resist a friendly grin at Hardy’s obvious relief at getting inside.
Hardy replied in kind and introduced himself, adding, ‘I’d like to ask you a few questions.’
‘Certainly sir,’ came the amiable response, though some of the friendliness had disappeared.
‘I believe this gentleman may have been a member here.’ And he pulled out the now somewhat crumpled photograph of Archie Dunne, and handed it to the doorman.
‘Is that...? Terrible business, terrible. I saw it in the evening newspaper. Yes, that is Mr Dunne, and he was most definitely a member here.’
‘Had he dined here the night he died? Can you remember, it was late November.’
‘Yes sir. I can be quite sure about that. Due to certain—um—domestic circumstances, Mr Dunne had been staying with us for perhaps a fortnight. Then he went home for two nights, and then lo and behold, there he was back again. I said to our membership secretary, ‘well that didn’t last long, did it?’ And we laughed. I must admit I feel rather ashamed of that now. But of course, we didn’t realise, we thought it was rather funny at the time. He had dinner here the night he died, having arrived at about seven o’clock with a small suitcase. Then after dinner he spent some time at cards with some of the other members. He went out at about half past ten. I offered to call a cab for him, sir, but as soon as we got outside, a lady came over. She had an umbrella and so Mr Dunne told me not to bother with the cab, he would walk. And he left.’
‘With the woman?’
‘Indeed.’
‘Did you recognise her?’
‘No.’
‘Can you describe her?’
‘I didn’t see her face, it was concealed by a hat and the umbrella. But she seemed quite small and slender, I remember her head only just came up to his shoulder and he had to lean a little with the umbrella to keep it over both of them. She had dark hair, I think. And she was wearing a rather fetching gold-coloured cloak. As I say, she carried the umbrella, but he took it from her and she took his arm. They walked off in that direction,’ he paused here to lean forward and point towards the right. ‘I fancied they were arguing, although I couldn’t hear what they said, it was just the impression I got.’
‘Did he seem surprised or angry to see her?’
‘Perhaps a little surprised. I think he said something like ‘what on earth are you doing here?’ or something like that.’
‘And you didn’t hear him address her by name?’
‘No sir.’
‘And you didn’t at any point see her face?’
‘No.’
‘Had you seen her before, or since?’
‘Not as far as I’m aware.’
‘Did you form any idea as to where they were going?’
‘Not at all, sir, I’m sorry.’
‘That’s quite all right. Thanks for your help.’
‘Not at all sir. Goodnight.’
Hardy came down the steps and into the street. The weather was as bad as ever.
‘That’s it,’ he said to himself, turning up his collar, ‘I’m going home.’
*
When the two sisters cautiously emerged from the box forty minutes later, the corridor was empty. They followed the signs to the rear exit, hoping to leave the theatre without drawing too much attention to themselves.
Having achieved this goal, and reached the car, shaking the rain from their coats and bags, Flora turned to Dottie with a triumphant grin and said, ‘We’re so good at this sleuthing thing. We make such good detectives, Dottie, I feel we really have a talent for this sort of thing.’
Dottie laughed. ‘We certainly have. Although we have really only confirmed what we already knew; we haven’t added anything new.’
‘But Archie was taking at least two women to that flat. What a dreadful philanderer!’
‘Hmm. But it is nice to have confirmation of our suspicions and clearly Susan Dunne has something to hide.’
‘Yes. What Valerie said about seeing him shrink past his wife as she opened the door—I know we thought she was peculiar, but for her own husband to be so scared of her!
She sounds very peculiar. One can almost see why he went elsewhere for comfort. Almost.’
‘I’ve been thinking about what Valerie told us. I think we ought to do our duty and tell our favourite policeman—now an inspector, no less—what we’ve learned,’ Dottie said.
Flora halted the car and waited whilst an elderly couple crossed the road, and she turned to give her sister a teasing smile.
‘What?’ Dottie demanded.
‘Well he is rather gorgeous, Dottie. And so noble—giving up his studies to support his family, and all that pursuit of law and order, keeping our streets safe for ordinary citizens. Apart from poor Archie of course. And now—as you say—an inspector. Who knows how high his abilities might take him. He could be chief constable one day.’
‘What on earth are you going on about? If you’re implying—mind that dog!—if you’re implying that I’m enamoured of the inspector...’
‘Of course you are. And I would be too, if I were a bachelor girl. Those eyes! That hair! Not to mention those massive shoulders. He’s a bit too tall, perhaps, but I suppose beggars can’t be choosers.’
In this way they returned to the Manderson home, and Dottie was reunited with her mother who seemed to still be under the impression that her heart was broken following the announcement of the Honourable Cyril Penterman’s recent marriage. Flora quickly disabused their mother on that score.
‘Dottie has better, newer fish to fry now, Mother dear.’
‘Oh?’
Dottie marvelled that her mother could infuse one simple word with so much hope and longing. She immediately realised that her mother was mentally calculating what could be a better fish than an honourable, and feared their mother’s criteria were not the same as her daughters’.
‘No, Mother, I haven’t fallen for an earl.’
‘But she has fallen for a policeman!’
‘No!’ Mrs Manderson gasped, clutching her pearls, and sank into a chair.
‘Oh not a humble bobby on the beat, Mother, never fear. She’s got her eyes on an inspector.’
‘I have not!’ Dottie laughed, half amused, half genuinely worried her sister thought it was true. Certainly her mother was believing this ludicrous tale of Flora’s. ‘Mother, I haven’t! Flora! It was funny at first, but now, really, it’s time to stop this nonsense. You know it’s not true.’
‘Isn’t it true he gave you his handkerchief as a token of his love? Are you or are you not going to see him tomorrow to pour out your heart to him?’ Flora challenged, laughing. Their mother was looking pale. Her hand, still hovering protectively over her pearls, was shaking. Flora administered a small medicinal sherry.
‘I’m sorry Mother, I was just teasing Dottie. Though he is a very nice man and also rather delicious.’
‘Florence! Kindly refrain from this vulgar talk. I assume it is William Hardy to whom you are referring?’ Mrs Manderson began to recover herself.
‘Yes, I am.’ Flora smiled. ‘I’ll ring for tea, shall I?’
‘But surely Mr Hardy is merely a sergeant?’
‘He has just received his promotion to inspector. Apparently he is a very fine officer. And very highly thought of.’
‘All the same...’
The telephone bell rang. A moment later Janet came into the room to announce that there was a telephone call for Miss Dorothy. Dottie therefore hurried away. They could hear the murmur of her voice though not what she was saying. Mrs Manderson leaned a little closer to her eldest daughter.
‘And so is she planning on seeing this Hardy chappie or not?’
‘Well possibly, Mother, it’s nothing definite. But we’ve—um—remembered—something that might be useful to him in his investigation.’
‘It’s very vulgar getting mixed up in all this crime. But she isn’t really interested in this–this—Inspector Hardy?’ Mrs Manderson pronounced his name in the manner of a woman trying to face up to a distasteful possibility. Flora had seen the same expression on her mother’s face when she had been informed there were rats in the scullery.
Flora leaned closer to her mother and said softly, ‘Actually Mummy, I rather think she is, she just doesn’t realise it.’
‘But a policeman.’
‘I know, Dear, but you wouldn’t want her stuck with a bounder like Cyril and be unhappy all her life, would you? And Mr Hardy has got heavenly blue eyes. And he whisked out a handkerchief as soon as she needed it. He was very—gallant. I like the idea of a gallant man for our Dottie, don’t you?’
‘Well,’ said her mother, sipping her sherry, and reflecting, ‘I suppose a gallant man, even if he is a policeman, would be a catch. And a nice change after... And if you think Dottie really does, deep down...’
‘Oh she does, Mother. Very deep down. And you know, I think he’s going places. And don’t forget, he’s still frightfully young and an inspector already. He could end up as chief constable. Possibly even a peer.’
‘Well,’ was her mother’s only response.
Dottie returned. She looked worried.
‘That was Susan Dunne! She was in a frightful state. She asked me to go over there. She said it’s Leonora’s evening out, and she pleaded with me to go over and see her. She was upset—actually weeping on the phone—and saying she must speak to someone. She begged me to go, any time after seven o’clock she said, as Leonora would be gone by then. She said she was sorry she didn’t let us in yesterday, she said she wanted to, but she was afraid.’
‘Afraid of what?’ Mrs Manderson demanded.
‘She didn’t say,’ Dottie said, somewhat deflated, then she turned to Flora, ‘I said I’d go to see her, she sounded so desperate. Muriel had told her what I said about not knowing Archie at all, and how upset I was that she might suspect I was his mistress. She wanted to apologise for her behaviour.’
‘Shall I go with you?’ Flora asked, then immediately added, ‘oh but I can’t, George and I have guests this evening.’
‘Well, if it’s not too late, I’ll pop in afterwards and tell you all about it. I don’t suppose I’ll be there for more than an hour or so. I wonder what she wants?’
‘Good idea, I’m very curious about all this. If she gets too weepy, just tell her you’re very sorry but you’ve got to leave, Don’t just sit there and listen if she gets all maudlin.’
‘I’m sure everything will be all right. Anyway, at least she’s still speaking to me!’
The clock on the mantel chimed, and Flora leapt her feet. ‘Blast! Look at the time, I really have to be going. See you later, girls, toodle-oo!’ She kissed their cheeks and scurried out before either her sister or her mother had a chance to speak.
Mrs Manderson turned to her younger daughter. ‘I do wish Florence wouldn’t use those vulgar expressions. She didn’t used to talk like that before she got married. I blame George and his family for this decline. They have such low standards.’
Dottie just laughed. ‘Yes, Mother, quite right!’
The door opened and Janet came in with the tea tray.
Chapter Twenty-two
‘I suppose you know you’ve lost me my job, coming here like this,’ Valerie Knight said bitterly as soon as she came into the manager’s office.
‘Please take a seat, Miss Knight,’ Hardy said. He was sitting in the manager’s padded leather chair, and very comfortable it was too. Valerie Knight took a seat opposite him on the small wooden chair with the broken back. She was angry at being so publicly summoned to the office to speak to the police, and the tears in her eyes showed that her fear of losing her job was genuine. In a gentler tone, Hardy said, ‘Don’t worry, Miss Knight, I shall make it clear that you are simply being a helpful member of the public and that no guilt or misconduct can be attached to you.’
That helped. She nodded, leaning forward to say, ‘What is it you want to know?’
‘Tell me about Archie Dunne.’
She looked both annoyed and relieved. Any slight suspicion he still had of her now dissipated completely. ‘Those two w
omen earlier,’ she said shaking her head, ‘I knew they were trouble. I shouldn’t of told them anything.’
‘Well, you did, so why not tell me as well, then you can get back to work. How did you get to know Mr Dunne?’
‘The usual way. He came to buy cigars off me a couple of times,’ she said with a sigh, ‘We got chatting. He was funny, and sweet. He said the show had given him an idea and he wanted me to help him.’
‘He said more than that, didn’t he?’ Hardy interrupted.
‘Only that he’d had this idea from watching the show. It was Gay Divorce same as what’s on still, and he told me that he and his wife wasn’t getting on, so I thought it meant he’d decided to divorce her.’
‘And had he?’
‘Well, sort of. I mean he wanted to get shot of her. I joked he could just strangle her and chuck her body in the river. He laughed and said if it didn’t mean his neck he might consider it. He’d met someone else, he said, someone he wanted to be with. In fact, she was with him that night, I just caught sight of them as they were leaving. She was as young as me!’
‘Do you know her name? What did she look like?’
Valerie shook her head, ‘I can’t quite—it was D something—I can’t remember exactly what he called her. Sorry.’
Hardy ignored the plummeting sensation in his stomach and, carefully controlling his emotions he said, ‘D something? And what did she look like? Tall and dark? Or shorter and fair?’
‘Short and fair.’
‘You’re sure? It wasn’t one of those two ladies who came to see you?’
Valerie Knight laughed, a gentle, teasing laugh that most men would absolutely find irresistible, Hardy thought. ‘Oh it wasn’t that tall pretty dark one that came here this afternoon, no. It was definitely a different woman. Don’t you worry about that.’
Hardy felt exasperated with himself. But her information relieved his mind considerably, even though he already knew about the D in Archie Dunne’s life, it was reassuring to hear it confirmed by another witness. ‘Do continue.’