by Leo McNeir
Janet left the room. Marnie was shocked at Frank’s appearance.
“So, how are you feeling?” she said cheerfully.
“Still got the headache.” He raised a hand to the back of his head and ran it slowly down to his collar. “Concussion. Could’ve been worse.”
“Have the police any idea who attacked you?”
Frank began to shake his head and winced. Marnie and Ralph could almost feel the pain. “Don’t think so.”
Janet reappeared with a tray laden with crockery. She set it down on a low table and began pouring tea.
“Help yourselves to biscuits,” she said. “When you rang, I thought you might be the police. They said they’d be coming to take a statement later today if he was feeling all right.”
A phone began ringing somewhere in the house and Janet got up.
“If it’s Jeff,” Frank said. “It’ll most likely be about that estimate I promised for today.”
“Well, they’re going to have to do without you for once,” said Janet firmly. “Jeff can deal with it. He’s supposed to be the office manager. Today he’s got to manage.”
After she had gone, Frank sighed. “Janet doesn’t realise how complicated it is, running a business.”
“She’s more concerned with looking after you,” said Marnie. “And you’re not a hundred per cent after what’s happened. It’s not surprising. What did happen, actually? Or would you rather not talk about it?”
“There’s not much to talk about, Marnie. I took the dogs to one of our regular walks – you know, over by Hanford, near the clumps. There are no cattle in it at this time of year, so I left the car in the lay-by, walked them down the slope and let’em off the lead. Next thing I knew was this smash on the head, and out I went.”
“What was that about perfume?” said Marnie. “You were trying to tell me about it when I saw you in hospital.”
“Just as I was going down someone grabbed my wrist, must’ve bent over me. Last thing I remember was this smell like perfume.”
“Was it like mine?” said Marnie.
“Not really. Yours just gave me the idea.”
“Could it have been aftershave?”
“I don’t know ... yes. I’m not sure. It was just an impression, a sweet sort of smell. Then I was out.”
“Why didn’t the dogs do anything?” Ralph asked.
Frank made a gesture with his hand. “Oh, they were off. You know what they’re like, charging through the trees, lolloping great things, useless.” He smiled indulgently. “Mind you, they went mad when they ran back and found me lying there, barked their whiskers off, apparently. That’s what made that chap come and look, the one who found me and took me to hospital.”
“Up until then, you’d not been aware of anyone else near you?” said Ralph.
“No-one at all. I keep going over it in my mind. Nothing.”
“Did you notice any other car in the lay-by?”
Frank shrugged. “I don’t think so. Nothing that I can remember.”
“He can’t have sprung up from nowhere,” said Marnie. “Weren’t you in open country?”
“There are trees and bushes down there. He must have been hiding behind them. I just came along and that was it.”
*
Marnie gave Ralph directions to the lay-by where Frank had parked on the day he was mugged. As the Volvo rolled to a stop, less than five miles away, an unmarked police Cavalier was pulling into the yard at Glebe Farm.
Marnie pointed down the slope beyond the lay-by. “It must’ve been about there, by those trees. Would you mind if we had a quick look, Ralph?”
“You want to go down there?”
“I’m just curious,” Marnie said, pushing the door open. “After hearing what Frank said, and seeing him in hospital, I want to get the full picture. You know what I’m like.”
“Yes, I know,” Ralph muttered, following her.
They climbed over the stile, walked down to stand roughly where Frank must have unleashed the labradors, and surveyed the scene. There was nothing visible to suggest that an attack had occurred in that place, no marks on the ground, no damage to branches. Marnie gazed into the distance where the trees stood closer together, forming a small copse bounded by meadowland and the canal. She turned to speak to Ralph but he was nowhere to be seen.
“Ralph?” she called.
He stepped out from behind a cluster of trees. “I could see you through the foliage,” he said. “But obviously you couldn’t see me.”
“Not at all.” She looked beyond him. Extending to the horizon, only meadows and fields were visible. Away off at the edge of vision, a solitary church steeple rose up between trees like a tiny pin. They were about twenty metres from the canal bank. Joining Ralph, Marnie squatted for a closer look at the ground.
“Pity we left the magnifying glasses and deerstalkers behind,” Ralph observed.
“Mm.”
“It’s probably the way I tell them.” He squatted beside her. “What are you looking for?”
“Sex.”
He grinned. “What now?”
“Ralph, you’re not taking this seriously.” She stood up, still staring at the grass, and shook her head.
“Sorry. It’s just that there’s nothing at all to be seen.”
“That’s the point, isn’t it? Come on, then. We’d better go home.”
Walking hand in hand up to the lay-by, Ralph left Marnie to her thoughts. When they drove off he said, ”You were being very enigmatic, Marnie. What did you mean back there ... all that Sherlock Holmes stuff?”
“Are you making fun of me?”
He looked serious. “No, of course not. But you seemed to be looking for things that weren’t there.”
“I was. Got it in one.”
“I was rather hoping you’d become less enigmatic.”
“But you were right,” said Marnie. “I was trying to see what wasn’t there.”
“And what did you see? Or what didn’t you see? Whichever of those is appropriate.”
“Not sure. I’ve got to get things sorted out in my mind. It’s complicated.”
Ralph glanced across, saw that Marnie was frowning and judged it best to let her cogitate. He turned off the main road towards the village, along the high street and through the farm gate onto the field track.
“Have you time to talk about things now?” he asked.
“It’ll have to be later, probably this evening.”
“Okay. I guess we’ve both got plenty of work to do.”
“Partly that and ...” The sentence was left unfinished. She had caught sight of the police car standing in the farmyard.
*
Anne was feeling desperate. She had already asked DCI Bartlett and DS Marriner at least three times if they were sure they would not like a cup of anything. It was clear that Marriner would have gladly accepted, but his boss was adamant. She was feeling ready to confess all and be carted off to the cells when Marnie breezed into the office, briefcase in one hand, filofax in the other, a roll of plans tucked under her arm, car keys dangling from a finger.
“What a day! You wouldn’t believe the traffic on the ... oh, Inspector Bartlett, Sergeant Marriner. Is that your car outside?” She laid her bits and pieces on the desk. “Has Anne offered you refreshment? Would you like something?”
“Mrs Walker, good afternoon.” Bartlett looked less than cordial. “I understand we have reason to be grateful for your help at the hospital on Saturday.”
“There was no reason to come all this way to thank me,” said Marnie.
“We didn’t. But I do thank you all the same.”
“My pleasure. Was it the mugger you told me about?”
“It looks like it. Mr Day couldn’t identify anyone, unfortunately. He just had a vague impression.”
“The perfume,” said Marnie.
“Quite,” said Bartlett.
Marnie snorted. “Do I need an alibi?”
“That won’t be necessary.”<
br />
“Are you able to tell us what happened?”
Bartlett outlined the events surrounding the attack. His version matched the story told by Frank.
“And they took his watch,” said Marnie.
“Very observant,” said Bartlett. “And his wallet.”
“Strange that the dogs didn’t come to help him,” Marnie observed. “Do you have any views on that?”
Bartlett did not like it when someone else asked the questions. “They were too far away at the time. And he didn’t make a sound. It was all very quick, very professional.”
“But afterwards, surely the dogs would’ve seen the attackers making their getaway.”
“If they did, they’re not telling us,” said Marriner dryly.
“I meant, they must’ve been confident they could get away quickly. Otherwise, why would they go for someone with two big dogs?”
“We’re still working on that one,” said Bartlett. “What interests us more at the moment is how you came to be at the hospital when Mr Day was admitted.”
“I told Mr Marriner. I was just visiting someone.”
“Oh, I think it was more than just visiting, Mrs Walker. I understand one of your fellow boaters was rushed to hospital – by you – suspected of having attempted to commit suicide.”
Marnie crossed to the kitchen area and filled the kettle. Anne got up and joined her, muttering about making the coffee.
“Suicide? I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.”
“How would you look at it, Mrs Walker?”
“The man wasn’t actually one of my boaters, as you put it. He was on a visitor’s mooring. He appears to have had a drop too much to drink and taken more of his anti-depression tablets than he should. They seem to have disagreed with him.”
Bartlett looked bewildered. “Anti-depression tablets?”
“I think that’s what the doctor said. She didn’t assume it was suicide.”
“That has yet to be decided. We’re keeping an open mind on that score.”
“There was no suicide note,” said Marnie. “I thought people usually left a note behind.”
“There are no set rules in these things, Mrs Walker. Tell me, have you been to visit this Mr Alexander in hospital?”
“No. I’ve been working.” She nodded towards her desk. “As you can see.”
“Did you know he’d discharged himself this morning?”
Marnie accepted a cup from Anne. The detectives would know that a woman had phoned the ward sister that morning. They would know it was her. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some refreshment, gentlemen?”
“Quite sure. Would you answer the question, please?”
“Yes. I did know. I phoned to see if he needed anything, and the sister said he was better and had left.”
“Better? Are you sure that’s what you were told?”
“I think so. That is the situation, isn’t it?”
“He discharged himself and seems to have disappeared. Have you any ideas as to his whereabouts, Mrs Walker?”
“Probably gone back to his boat, I expect. Unless he’s gone home, of course. I’ve no idea where that is.”
“You indicated his boat was moored near here,” said Bartlett.
“Through the spinney.” She indicated the direction with a nod.
“Could I ask you to accompany us and identify the boat?”
Marnie got up. “Sure.”
*
Ralph had to admit Marnie was a cool customer. As soon as they had seen the policemen’s car, she had rattled off a series of orders. He was to get to Thyrsis by skirting round the back of the barns out of sight. Once on board, he was to switch on his electric kettle and his computer, surround himself at his desk with books and papers, making sure they were exactly relevant to the program on the screen in case anyone had a close look. He was to make a cup of coffee and pour more than half of it into the sink, rinsing away the remains so as not to leave a stain. To the rest, he had to add a little cold water, so that it was lukewarm. Knowing that he often worked with music playing softly in the background, he was to put on a CD as soon as he sat at his desk. Then, he was to start working as normal.
It was the last part that he found hardest to follow. His thoughts kept returning to the sight of Marnie and Simon dealing with Anthony. They worked well together. There was an understanding between them that was intuitive. Even their argument about the cars did not seem to get in the way of their effectiveness. It just seemed to underline their wholeness, that they could keep up the banter without being diverted from the matter in hand. And they looked so good together.
Ralph had felt middle-aged just watching them. His life was spent analysing data, devising theories, advising people. They may have been Very Important People: presidents, ministers, chairmen. But he advised and they took the decisions. Marnie and Simon had not even waited for his views. They had read the situation and leapt into action. It had been impressive.
He heard the knock on the porthole behind him and went to open the side doors, reminding himself to focus on his story. Marnie and the two detectives were standing on the bank.
“Mr Lombard,” said Bartlett, who looked far from happy. “Can we ask you a few questions, sir?”
“Er, yes. Come aboard.” Ralph sounded distracted.
“We’re obviously disturbing your work. It shouldn’t take a minute.”
Ralph went through to the study, not the saloon, as Marnie had told him. He offered his visitors the sofa. Marnie sat on the floor and waved aside their protests. Ralph turned down the music and swivelled his chair to face them.
“What can I do for you?” His face was serious as if he had been concentrating and was making an effort to change direction.
“You discovered the man we know to be Mr Simon Alexander unconscious on his boat. It appeared that he had attempted to commit suicide.”
“Has that now been established, Chief Inspector?”
“Isn’t that what you thought at the time?”
“I didn’t have much time for thoughts. We had to move fast. I suppose suicide is a reasonable assumption, though I don’t think the doctors would necessarily agree with you.”
Bartlett glanced fleetingly at Marnie. “Tell me, sir, did you see a note or an envelope near Mr Alexander when you found him?”
“A note?” He reached for his coffee, took a sip and winced. “No, nothing like that. I’m sure I would’ve noticed if there had been. Can’t stand lukewarm coffee. May I offer you something?”
“No thank you, sir. Are you aware that Mr Alexander’s boat has left?”
Ralph gave every impression of not quite relating to his surroundings. “Left?”
“I understand it was tied alongside your own boat. It isn’t there now.”
“I can’t say I’ve been paying much attention to the canal today.” Ralph’s computer screen was covered in figures, a graph and a pie chart.
“But you would notice if a boat alongside you moved away? You’d hear the engine presumably, see it go past, feel it bump against your boat, perhaps?”
“Oh yes. All of those are possible. But there’s movement all the time on canals, boats coming and going. That’s one reason I use music to filter out the sounds. With my work, I rarely have time to sit and stare out of the window.”
“Isn’t it likely that a man whose life you saved would come to say goodbye if he was leaving?”
“Yes, of course. But if he knocked on the doors, for example, I might well not hear. And I spend a fair amount of time on the phone. It would be quite easy to miss him.”
“That’s why I tapped on the porthole,” said Marnie helpfully.
*
Bartlett and Marriner maintained a gruff silence on the walk back through the spinney. Marnie thought it best to keep quiet herself. All her objectives had been achieved, and Ralph had played his part with great success. He was a surprisingly good actor.
They stopped at the door to the office barn. “Is t
hat it? Can I carry on with work now, inspector?”
“What was Mr Alexander’s boat called? Can you describe it for us?”
“I don’t remember seeing its name,” she said truthfully. “It was grey all over, I think.”
“Have you any idea where it went? Had Mr Alexander mentioned where he was going?”
Marnie shook her head. “If I had to guess, I’d say it probably went south.”
“Why south?”
“It was pointing in that direction. That’s usually a clue.” Bartlett’s expression began turning hostile. “No. I’m not being facetious, inspector. Turning round isn’t easy for a boat that length. It would need a winding hole. He’d have to go south for about three quarters of an hour before finding one. Then why would he want to return here when his boat had already been going south, anyway? I’d suggest you look in that direction.”
*
Anne looked round the corner of the office barn as the police car disappeared up the field track. Her legs were still tender but no longer painful, and she was walking normally.
“All clear,” she said. “How did it go?”
“All right, I think. I tried to persuade them the boat was going in the opposite direction.”
“And they actually believed you?”
“I think so.”
Anne feigned shock and put a hand on her heart. “It’s gotta be a first!”
“Ralph was great,” said Marnie. “You can never quite be sure with the police. They always know more about what’s going on than they tell you.”
“You were gone for ages. I thought you’d be back sooner.”
“I should’ve phoned to let you know, but I got sidetracked. We called in on Frank.”
“And how was he?”
“Awful. I’ll tell you about it later.”
“Okay. It’s a good job you went to the boat just now. Anthony rang. He said the batteries in his razor have packed up and he wants you to get him some new ones or a pack of disposable razors.”
“Right. He’ll have them tomorrow. I’ve got a pile of work to get through. Anything else?”
“Yes. Simon rang.”
“Did he leave a message?”