The Sleeping Salesman Enquiry

by Ann Purser

  “Shhh,” said Deirdre. “You’ll be drummed out! Ah, here comes the Reverend Dorothy. Stand up, you unbeliever.”

  “I could quite fancy her,” whispered Gus.

  Deirdre didn’t answer, but obediently opened her hymnbook in the right place, and then sang in a pleasant soprano voice. The sermon was mercifully short, and the vicar preached well, even including a few jokes.

  “What’s her surname?” whispered Gus.

  Deirdre thought it best not to answer.

  The service was drawing to a close, and there were a few notices to be read out, followed by the banns.

  “. . . If any of you know cause or just impediment why these two people should not be joined in holy matrimony, ye are to declare it,” ended the Reverend Dorothy, and looked smilingly at Ivy and Roy. There was the usual short pause, while the congregation pretended to look around for a challenger.

  Then it happened. “I declare it!” came a man’s loud voice from the back of the church. “I know a very good reason why that man should not marry that woman. He should be sued for breach of promise to another.”

  There was a horrified silence, and then the vicar drew herself up in a dignified fashion, and walked with measured tread to the place where the man stood, red-faced and belligerent.

  With great presence of mind, the organist began a soothing rendering of a Bach prelude, and the church was full of subdued whispering.

  Ivy sat as if turned to stone. Roy reached for her hand, and it was icy. “A silly mistake, beloved,” he said quietly. “It will all be sorted out very quickly. You’ll see.”

  Nineteen

  NOBODY IN CHURCH could remember such an extraordinary event. Even the oldest inhabitant, an old lady who was blind and deaf, when she had had it explained to her, said she had never known the like of it.

  In due course the vicar arrived back into the church, but there was no sign of the red-faced, belligerent man.

  “I am sorry about the delay, everyone, and especially Miss Beasley and Mr. Goodman, but I now have to make some enquiries,” she said. “It is the law, and must be done, though I am sure everything will be cleared up by next Sunday, and we may proceed with the banns. Now please turn to hymn number sixty-four, ‘Fight the Good Fight, with All Thy Might.’”

  “And so we will,” whispered Roy.

  “I’m so proud of Ivy,” said Deirdre, moving up close to Gus. “The second time it’s happened to her, but she’s, well . . .” She sniffed back tears.

  “Bloody but unbowed?” asked Gus.

  “That’s it, exactly,” answered Deirdre.

  • • •

  IVY AND ROY hung back at the end of the service, and the vicar asked them if they would like to come round to the vicarage with her to have a coffee and talk about what had happened. They agreed immediately, and set off on the short walk to the large Victorian vicarage, imposing with its forbidding-looking turrets and tall chimneys.

  “Wouldn’t you prefer a nice bungalow, dear?” said Ivy, as they walked up the drive.

  “To tell you the truth, Miss Beasley, I really would! It is a very off-putting old place, as it was meant to be, to keep the humble peasants at bay. But I like the idea of friends in the village popping in for a chat, and nobody’s going to pop in here, are they?”

  They agreed, and settled down in the large drawing room, with its wonderful bursts of sparks and warmth.

  “Now, the position is this,” said Rev. Dorothy, once they were settled with a hot drink. “The law of the church is that if, as this morning, someone declares they know a good reason why the two applicants should not be married, then the claim has to be investigated. Usually this turns out to be a case of spite or envy, and it can all be settled amicably. But occasionally there is a good cause, such as one of the pair being married already.”

  “Good heavens, that certainly doesn’t apply to us, does it, Roy?” Ivy looked astounded at even the suggestion.

  “No, of course not, dearest,” he said, and turned to Rev. Dorothy. “I am sure we shall both give you all the information you need, and be as helpful as possible. Is there anything we can do straight away?”

  “Yes,” said the stalwart vicar. “There is one major problem. The man who interrupted duly followed me into the vestry, but when my back was turned, he fled. There is a door out into the churchyard, and he was out of there at such a speed that I could not catch him. You two can go home and forget all about it. Just ignore people if they ask awkward questions, and if necessary, refer them to me. That usually shuts them up. I have to try to find out who he was, and if you want to, perhaps you can do likewise. I shall be in touch daily, to keep you informed, but before you go, can you think of anyone who wishes to spoil things for you? Anyone with a grudge?”

  Ivy shook her head. “I’ve never been a popular person,” she said. “But I don’t think anyone has wished me harm. How about you, Roy?”

  To her surprise, he didn’t answer straight away. “Not sure,” he said eventually. “I’ll give it some thought and let you know.”

  • • •

  IN THE AGE-OLD way of villages, by the time Ivy and Roy had returned to Springfields, the news was out and all round the staff and residents. Miss Pinkney, who was always on duty on Sundays, was waiting at the door for them, and as Roy parked his trundle and they came in hand in hand, she gave both a warm kiss.

  “Come on in,” she said. “Cook was in church, and so everyone knows what happened. I have warned them all that if anyone asks awkward questions, they would be sent early to bed with no supper!”

  Roy smiled, and Ivy nodded and said how thoughtful Miss Pinkney had been. “But don’t worry, Pinkers; we regard the whole thing as a challenge for Enquire Within. Another case for us to investigate, alongside Alf and his marriage problem. Gus and Deirdre were there and witnessed everything, and we have arranged a meeting for three o’clock this afternoon at Tawny Wings to take our first step in the enquiry.”

  “That’s marvellous,” said Miss Pinkney. “If you need a temporary short-term assistant, you know where to find me! Now, we have roast Norfolk turkey for lunch, and Anya has made another one of her Polish desserts.”

  “I hope it’s more edible than the last one,” said Ivy cheerfully. “We had terrible indigestion, didn’t we, Roy?”

  Roy was gazing at her in amazement. How did she do it? She’d been through the most awful thing that could have been expected this morning, and here she was, her customary acerbic self, talking about puddings.

  “I’ll go up and change my feet,” Ivy said, “and see you back in the dining room, Roy.”

  Upstairs in her room, Ivy sat down on the edge of her bed and silently wept for two minutes. Then she looked at her watch, went into her bathroom and sluiced her face in cold water, gave herself a good shake, and set off for lunch.

  • • •

  “IT WAS A good idea of yours to wait for them until after they had seen Rev. Dorothy,” Deirdre said to Gus, as they walked slowly back across the Green. “Ivy looked very pale, and I noticed Roy’s hands were a bit trembly.”

  “I wish I could have got my hands on that bloke!” said Gus. “I’d have given him a lesson he wouldn’t forget! Of all the terrible, shattering tricks to play on a nice old couple like Ivy and Roy.”

  “Still, after you’d said we should meet straight away and make it a priority case for Enquire Within, they bucked up enormously. Rev. Dorothy will keep us informed, I’m sure. But if it’s more complicated than just an act of sheer cruelty by some maniac with a grudge, then it may take longer. We can go all out in our own investigations, and I know our Ivy will be at her best.”

  “Good-o!” said Gus. “I’ll leave you now and go back to my lonely, freezing-cold cottage, with only a dog to talk to, and see you later this afternoon.”

  Deirdre laughed loudly. “Nice try,” she said, and took his hand. “You over-egged it slightly. But still, I get the point. Come on, we’ll share a plump pheasant I left in a slow oven. You can
go back and see Whippy for an hour or so after lunch, before we have our meeting.”

  When they got back to Tawny Wings, Gus asked if he could use Deirdre’s telephone. “I think I’ll give Rev. Dorothy a ring, and tell her what we’ve decided to do. We’ll need her help, and she might give me some idea of who that idiot was, and if he had any sensible explanation.”

  “Good idea. Carry on, while I do the potatoes. She’s a nice woman, although she may be bound by rules of confidentiality.”

  Gus went into the little telephone room and shut the door. He dialled the vicarage number and Rev. Dorothy’s voice was sharp. “Whoever it is, I am going out and not answering any questions about this morning’s church service. And don’t bother me again.”

  “Excuse me, Rev. Dorothy? This is Augustus Halfhide here. Friend of Miss Beasley and Mr. Goodman. We three, plus Mrs. Bloxham from Tawny Wings, are the Enquire Within team, and, of course, all of us are most upset by what happened this morning.”

  There was a pause, and then the vicar apologised and said that she had been contacted by both local newspaper reporters on the phone already, and they had been disgustingly insistent and wouldn’t give up pestering. “I thought you were another of them,” she said. “So sorry. How can I help you?”

  Gus explained their plans to carry out an investigation, and wondered if she was allowed to tell him anything about the man who had challenged the banns.

  “I will help you as much as I can,” she said, “but for a start, I got nothing out of that person except a repeated statement that he knew of a watertight reason why Roy Goodman could not marry Ivy Beasley. He wouldn’t give me his name, but said he would be seeing his lawyers, and they would be in touch. I said that his lack of cooperation seemed to indicate nothing but mischief making, and he said if I did not do what he asked—no, ordered—I and the engaged couple would regret it. Then he pushed past me in the vestry and left. I rushed after him, but he had vanished.”

  “Mm. Much as I thought,” said Gus. “I suppose you know that Mr. Goodman is a retired, wealthy landowner? There is a lot to discover yet, and we mean to find out all the facts. Rumour is sometimes helpful, but we try to deal in facts. It would be wonderful if we could work together on this?”

  “Only too pleased,” said Rev. Dorothy. “Do drop in anytime, Mr. Halfhide, won’t you.”

  “Thank you so much. And please do call me Gus. Good-bye, then, and again, thanks for your help.”

  He emerged from the telephone room, and Deirdre called from the kitchen that lunch was ready and could he come and open the wine.

  “You look like the cat that’s got the cream,” she said suspiciously.

  “Useful conversation,” he said. “Augustus Halfhide has not lost his touch with lady vicars.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake! Here, take this corkscrew and try not to get bits of cork in the wine.”

  Twenty

  WHEN IVY AND Roy arrived at Tawny Wings, promptly at three o’clock, Deirdre opened the door with a big smile. “Gus will be here soon. He’s just gone back to feed Whippy and take her for a lightning walk, and he’s bringing his car up so that he can give you a lift back. You can leave your trundle here, Roy, and I shall drive it down to you tomorrow.”

  “And a fine sight you’ll look!” said Ivy. “But thanks, anyway. We shall be glad of a lift this afternoon. It gets dark so early, and the pavements could do with a lot of repair work. I think I’ll write to the council and complain.”

  “But first, our meeting,” said Deirdre. “I thought we’d be in the drawing room this afternoon. Our office upstairs is not very warm, and we can relax in front of the fire. My Bert, before he died, offered to fix an electric coal fire, but I said no, you can’t beat the real thing. Come on in, both.”

  Gus arrived five minutes later in his car, and joined them.

  “Car going all right?” said Roy.

  “Fine, thanks to Deirdre,” Gus said. “I reckon I got special treatment, being a friend of the garage boss!”

  “Very likely,” said Ivy. “Can we make a start on our various investigations now?”

  They followed their usual practice of going round the four, each one saying how much he or she knew of the person or persons involved.

  “You first, Ivy,” said Deirdre.

  “I’d rather Roy began,” she said. “He’s the one who has lived hereabouts all his life, and is likely to know more about past goings-on.”

  “Certainly, my dear,” said Roy. “Well, first, I deny categorically that I have been legally married before, and therefore never divorced, nor never should have been divorced. Secondly, I have no idea who that man was. Never to my knowledge have I set eyes on him before. Thirdly, I have tried hard to think back to a time when I offended someone, knowingly or unwittingly, in a way that would cause them to act so cruelly. I have come up with nothing.”

  “Now me,” said Gus, sensing that Ivy really wanted to be last. “I can honestly say that the possibility of the banns being challenged never once occurred to me. Deirdre will back me up in saying that my own disastrous marriage has turned me against the whole institution for good. But for Ivy and Roy, who so obviously love each other, I am wholeheartedly behind this investigation, and shall not rest until it is solved.” He paused, then cleared his throat and said that he had had a useful conversation with Rev. Dorothy, and told them what she had said to him.

  “Me next,” said Deirdre. “I back up everything Gus said, except the bit about marriage as an institution. I was happily married to my Bert for years, and I wish he’d lived longer. As for this morning’s interrupter, he looked a very nasty piece of work, but . . .”

  “But what?” said Ivy.

  “But I think I’ve seen him before somewhere. His face was vaguely familiar, and though my memory’s not what it was, I think it may come back to me.”

  “When you least expect it,” said Ivy. “Now me. It was a complete surprise, and I was shocked for a few minutes. But Beasleys are a tough lot, and if I’d been a few years younger, that fool would not have escaped. But he did, with threats of the law in action, so that’s what we have to deal with. I hope you’ll forgive me saying this, Roy, but I think there may be one urgent investigation needed, and that is a roundup of previous girlfriends, no matter how long ago, who were understandably keen on you, maybe more than you realised.” She had not forgotten the photo of Roy and Ethel, arm in arm and looking into each other’s eyes.

  “Well said, Ivy. So now we can begin planning what to do.” Gus fished a pen out of his pocket and took up a notebook from the highly polished coffee table. “To work, team,” he said.

  At this moment, the telephone rang, and Deirdre said she would take it in the kitchen, as it was probably her butcher wanting her weekly order.

  The others talked desultorily, until she returned. Her face was pale, and she looked dazed.

  “Dee-Dee!” said Gus, rushing over and helping her to sit down. “Who was it? Is it bad news?”

  “Come on, gel,” said Ivy kindly. “Pull yourself together. There’s three of us here to help you, whatever’s up.”

  Deirdre breathed deeply, and cleared her throat. “It was the police. Seems they had tried to get hold of Ivy and Roy at Springfields, and Mrs. Spurling had referred them to my number. They asked if I was willing to pass on the message, and I said of course I would.”

  “Well, what is it? Out with it, love,” said Roy gently.

  “It’s your nephew, Roy. You see, he’s been found dead. They tried to resuscitate him, but it seems that he had been dead for some hours.”

  “Oh my God,” said Gus. He looked across at Roy, who was quite still, and scarcely breathing. Ivy, sitting next to him, took his hand and, to the others’ amazement, slapped his cheek lightly, and said, “If you ask me, he had it coming to him.”

  Roy shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts. “Did Deirdre say Steven is dead?” he asked in a quavery voice.

  “Yes, she did. And I said he had it coming
to him. Now, this is a bit of a shock, and Deirdre is making fresh coffee, so why don’t we all relax and chat for a bit, before we get back to business.”

  A ghost of a smile crossed Roy’s face, now regaining its normal colour. “Don’t you think we might have the morning off, dearest? I shall have a great deal to think about, so perhaps Alf’s problem with his wife can be put on hold, as they say?”

  Gus sat dumbly, watching Ivy’s extraordinary handling of her beloved Roy.

  “It may well be, Roy dear,” she answered, “that Enquire Within will be required to work on Steven Wright’s demise. No time like the present. Ah, here’s Deirdre. Hot and strong,” she said, tasting her coffee. “Just the ticket. Now, where did we get to?”

  • • •

  “DETAILS, DEIRDRE? DID the police give you any details?” After their coffee break, Gus and the others seemed ready to continue. Deirdre refilled cups and then sat down to answer him.

  “One or two, Gus. But the main thing is that they will be coming over to Springfields late this afternoon to see Roy. I said I was sure Ivy would want to be with him, and they said that was fine.”

  “What else?” said Ivy.

  “Well, it appears that first thing this morning, when the caretaker arrived, he opened up the store as usual, dealing with all the security systems and so on. Then the first member of staff to arrive was the junior salesman in the beds department. He took off his coat and checked messages and so on. Then he took his usual walk around the department to make sure all was ready for the day’s trading. He got as far as a large, expensive double bed and was shocked to see someone lying in it, faceup under the duvet, apparently fast asleep. Then he recognised Steven Wright, and his first thought was that his unpopular boss had somehow got back into the store last night, perhaps drunk and incapable, and stretched out on the bed and gone to sleep.”

  “Was the salesman sure he was asleep at that point?” said Roy.