The Sleeping Salesman Enquiry

by Ann Purser

  • • •

  THE RESTAURANT NEAR Oakbridge was exclusive, and when Deirdre and Theo Roussel arrived in Deirdre’s swish car, it was in good company. A couple of Bentleys and a Porsche four-by-four were already parked.

  “Gentlemen farmers, I suppose,” said Deirdre. “My Bert would have approved. He loved a good car, you know. His heart was in cars. Always had been.”

  “I hope he saved a bit of his heart for his wife,” said Theo. He was not particularly interested in Deirdre’s Bert. Once a motorcar salesman, always a motorcar salesman, in Theo’s opinion. However much money he had made, and he had made plenty, he was not likely to have been a guest at Barrington Hall.

  “Oh yes. Childhood sweethearts, we were,” Deirdre said nostalgically.

  “I seem to remember a certain teenage Deirdre when she was playing the field, and mostly with me.” He leaned across the table and stroked her cheek. “You are just as beautiful now as you were then. What do you fancy to eat, my love?”

  “Fish and chips,” she said. She didn’t hold with soppy talk, and reacted badly. “Straight out of the newspaper.”

  Theo laughed uncertainly. “Well, we could ask, I suppose,” he said.

  “No, of course not. I was just joking. I think paté for starters, and then I’d love roast pheasant with all the trimmings. This is a really nice place, Theo, and it’s lovely to be out with you again.”

  Theo relaxed. It was going to be all right. He knew his chief rival for Deirdre’s favours was his tenant in Hangman’s Row, and he occasionally thought of turning him out. But that wouldn’t solve anything. And anyway, Gus wasn’t a bad chap, on the whole.

  “Have you had success with any mysteries lately, you and the others? Miss Beasley and Mr. Goodman still an item?”

  “Oh yes, they certainly are. And in answer to the other question, we are deep into anonymous messages and deathbed crime. Possibly.”

  “My, that should keep you busy! But now let me look at the wine list. I need to choose carefully, so that my lovely guest will be sufficiently mellow to take coffee with me back at the Hall. In due course.”

  “If you’re talking about wine,” said Deirdre bluntly, “it’ll have to be good. My Bert used to say I’d got a head like a camel. At least, I think it was a camel.”

  Forty-three

  OUTSIDE IVY’S BEDROOM window a group of crows were quarrelling in the treetops and the hoarse sound penetrated Ivy’s sleep. She opened her eyes, and could see through the curtains that the sun was up already. A knock at the door brought Katya in with her morning cup of tea, and she sat up in bed.

  “Please draw the curtains, Katya,” Ivy said. “Am I late waking? It looks like a fine day out there. And listen to those noisy old crows! Do you think spring is here at last?”

  Katya laughed. “So many questions so early, Miss Beasley! Yes, it is a lovely day, and Mr. Goodman is already in the breakfast room. Can I help you to get dressed?”

  “No, thank you, my dear. I am still quite capable of that, unlike some of the lazy residents in this place. I actually heard one of them, who shall be nameless, say that she did not pay all that money and be expected to make her own bed. No, I shall be fine. Please tell Roy I’ll be down in no time.”

  So now it is Thursday, she thought, and the week was going fast. She splashed cold water over her face, and pulled on a sensible tweed skirt and lambswool jumper. Lace-up shoes and warm stockings anchored by suspenders completed her outfit for the day, and she made her bed quickly, not forgetting hospital corners, and went downstairs to find Roy.

  “Good morning, beloved!” said Roy. “A lovely morning at last, and perhaps spring is on its way. Now, do you fancy scrambled eggs and bacon? I can recommend it. And brown toast and marmalade? And coffee?”

  Ivy kissed the top of his head, and blushed a little. “No, I shall have my usual boiled egg, white toast and Marmite, and a good strong pot of tea.”

  Roy laughed. “No good going to France for our honeymoon, then,” he said.

  “France? What’s wrong with Blackpool? We never had holidays except once when I was a child, and then it was Blackpool. My mother was very critical of everything, but I remember thinking it was the best place ever.”

  “Blackpool it shall be, then. And, by the way, Gus phoned earlier and said he was coming fifteen minutes early to pick us up for the meeting. Wants to tell us something, so he said.”

  “Perhaps he’s going to say that Deirdre has accepted him and we can have a double wedding?”

  “I doubt it, but that does remind me that our banns should be called this Sunday. No problems now, surely.”

  “Rev. Dorothy seemed confident,” Ivy replied. “Things seem to have sorted themselves out. Now Alf doesn’t want our services, that only leaves your nephew’s strange death for us to carry on investigating.”

  Roy nodded. “I wasn’t particularly fond of him, but I wouldn’t have wished him dead. Perhaps I should give Frobisher a ring and see if the police are any nearer finding the reason he died. That at least. And, Ivy dear, don’t forget the anonymous threats to your safety.”

  “Never mind about me. I hope we’re not going to forget Steven’s wife? Wendy, isn’t it. I don’t think we or the police have given enough thought to Wendy.”

  At this moment, Gus came into the dining room, wished them a cheery good morning, and ordered himself some coffee. When it came, Katya produced more toast and real butter, and said it was all with the compliments of Miss Pinkney, who was on duty today.

  “And don’t tell La Spurling!” added Roy.

  When he had settled down, Gus became more serious and said he had something unpleasant to show them.

  “Another letter,” said Ivy flatly.

  He handed the crumpled sheet of paper to her, and said he was sure that they were all empty threats and no harm was going to come to either Roy or her. “But we must continue to be cautious, Ivy. I know you wish to ignore them, but I’m sure Frobisher would want you both to be very careful.”

  “Of course,” agreed Roy. “I think I shall go this minute and call Inspector Frobisher before he goes out. You will guard Ivy, won’t you, Gus?”

  He took his stick and limped off as quickly as he could before Ivy could say a word.

  When he returned, his face was grim. “Well, I’m glad I phoned. He had some bad news for us on two fronts. First, they found traces of some kind of food poisoning in Steven’s stomach at the autopsy, and second, the matron of the nursing home where Ethel Goodman died is asking for the police to do an investigation. She is not satisfied that the old lady died from natural causes, and has the home’s reputation to think of. Even more important for us to be wary, Ivy.”

  “Oh my goodness,” said Ivy, knocked off her perch for a few minutes. “Well, that means we still have plenty of work to do,” she continued, rallying. “I must say I am not surprised by the news about Steven. I noticed that he was a greedy man. Always ate several pieces of cake when he came here, at the same time comparing Springfields’ cooking with his wife, Wendy’s. As for Ethel, it seemed so likely that she could have died at any time at her great age, so that does come as curious news.”

  “Apparently her young Jossland relations at the farm, the ones Deirdre has been to see, are not satisfied, either. At first they just took it as inevitable, but then, talking to the matron, they learned that Ethel was not in any way physically ill or weak. She was just old and obstinate. Could speak, but wouldn’t.”

  “She spoke to Deirdre, if you remember,” said Ivy. “And, oddly enough, the name she mentioned was Alf Lowe, and not favourably.”

  “Time to go up to Tawny Wings,” said Gus. “We can fill Deirdre in, and then have a planning session.”

  • • •

  “BUT WHY DID the man with the earring deliver that note to you, Gus? The others have been more or less planted where Ivy would find them.” Deirdre had been dismayed at the sight of the third anonymous threat, and supported Roy in his concern to keep Ivy saf
e.

  “If I’d been there, I could’ve asked him,” said Gus. “I’ve given it some thought, and I can only think that he knows about Enquire Within and thinks I will persuade you two to give up the idea of marriage. After all, you cohabit at Springfields already.”

  “There should be more to marriage than just living in the same house,” said Deirdre sternly. “You of all people, Gus, should know that.” Gus nodded humbly. His own marriage had come to grief some time ago, and his ex-wife had involved him in a very unpleasant murder case quite recently.

  “If anyone is interested in knowing what I think,” said Ivy, “I say that I intend to ignore the threats, take sensible precautions, and, with my dear Roy and our good friend Elvis, pay another visit to Mrs. Maleham, mother of Frank, who not only sports an earring, but also works weekends in the furniture store warehouse. It is entirely possible that he knew Steven and probably didn’t like him.”

  “Ivy!” said Deirdre. “Isn’t that terribly rash? After all, you might be putting the pair of you straight into the lion’s den!”

  “I doubt it. Not with Elvis in his taxi waiting outside only yards away from us.”

  “Why don’t you invite her to tea at Springfields, dearest, as you planned?” said Roy. “That would be a safer option, surely?”

  “Because there would be no heavy-breathing listener at the top of the stairs. I mean to sort that out. No, I shall ring Elvis this afternoon, and arrange for him to pick us up tomorrow morning.”

  “Then I shall come with you,” said Deirdre.

  “And so shall I,” Gus added.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” said Ivy. “You will have to trust that Roy and I can make it a perfectly natural and innocent visit. I shall say we were shopping in town, and thought it a good opportunity to pop in and see her. I might suggest she arranges for her husband to be brought to Springfields to live, though I doubt whether they could afford its exorbitant fees.”

  “So what shall I do, if you won’t let us come with you?” said Deirdre.

  “Why don’t you visit your Jossland couple, and see if you can get anything further about Ethel Goodman. Why did she blurt out ‘Alf Lowe’ in that way, and who might know about her early life on the farm. That would be really useful,” suggested Ivy.

  “Which leaves me,” said Gus. “I think I shall have another chat with Alf. He certainly warmed up last time. And I reckon he knows a lot more than he’s telling.”

  “I think maybe we should all meet again on Saturday to report. I have this funny feeling that things are coming together.”

  “Inspector Frobisher is not going to rely on funny feelings,” said Ivy sharply. But on seeing Deirdre’s face fall, she softened and said she knew what Deirdre meant. “Just go easy, gel,” she said. “We don’t want the Malehams getting suspicious. Though at the moment I can’t see a direct connection between Alf and Ethel to Beryl Maleham and son Frank.”

  “Saturday, then?” said Deirdre. “Ten thirty here. I’m having my hair done at twelve o’clock and then lunch with Theo.”

  “The sooner you choose which one you’re taking to the altar, the better,” said Ivy. “I don’t hold with all this shilly-shallying.”

  “Hear, hear,” said Gus.

  Forty-four

  THE SUN HAD continued to shine all morning, and when Ivy and Roy took a turn around the garden, with Ivy waving her stick at the crows’ nests, they decided spring was definitely just around the corner and they should have a little jaunt after lunch.

  But after lunch, Roy said he needed his nap before they set out to nobble Deirdre and persuade her to take them for a ride around the villages. “You won’t need your trundle,” Ivy said. “We’ll just have a sightseeing ride without getting out of the car.”

  “Are you coming up now for a nap, then?” Roy asked.

  “Not for a few minutes. I’ll follow you shortly. I just have to see to Tiddles first.”

  Roy went off, promising to be down again in half an hour’s time. “I’ll just shut my eyes for a short while,” he said.

  Ivy had forgotten to give Tiddles a worm pill with his main meal at breakfast time, but now she intended to wrap it in a piece of meat for a little snack. She started off to look for him, but failed to find him in any of the usual places. She knew he was not in her room. She had shut the door on him as she came downstairs. Perhaps he had been tempted into the garden by the sunshine and the noisy crows? There was no one in reception, and she reckoned she could be out and back again quite safely without bothering to go upstairs for a coat.

  She began to look around the garden, calling for him as she went. He usually came straight away, expecting a treat. There was a dense shrubbery down one side of the house, and she suspected he might he in there, stalking nesting birds and deaf to her calls. “Tiddles? Tiddles! Come to Ivy, come along,” she shouted.

  Peering through a spiky holly bush, she caught her foot in a trailing weed and almost fell. Struggling upright again, she decided Tiddles must have gone hunting. There was a farm around the corner where he loved to go, occasionally coming back with a half-dead rat in his mouth and dumping it on the doormat in reception.

  She was back inside before anyone noticed her absence, and in no time was snoozing in an armchair in the lounge whilst waiting for Roy to appear. She was awakened by the pleasant feeling of someone kissing her cheek. She sat up sharply and saw Roy grinning at her.

  “Wakey, wakey, Ivy Beasley,” he said. “Did you dream of me?”

  “Certainly not,” she said. “And now look what you’ve done!”

  At least four of the old lady residents were laughing, and Roy’s friend Fred called out from the other side of the room, “Go to it, boy!”

  Roy was unabashed and said that he was all set for a ride with Deirdre. He had telephoned her, and she was looking forward to seeing them. Apparently she had nothing to do and was thinking of visiting the Josslands, but said that could wait until tomorrow. Best not to go too soon, perhaps, as they might be mourning their old aunt.

  “There’s Deirdre, my dear. Let me help you up, and then you can fetch your coat,” Roy said, offering Ivy his arm.

  Deirdre walked into the lounge, and wondered why everyone seemed to be laughing. Then she saw Ivy, grim-faced, arm in arm with Roy, and guessed that the old boy had been teasing her. “Cheer up, Ivy,” she said. “Are we ready?”

  “Ready in two ticks,” Roy said. “We’ll just find our coats. Though it’s always warm in your car.”

  “If you feel like it, we might stop somewhere for a cup of tea?” said Deirdre.

  “We’d better warn La Spurling,” said Roy. “She’ll shove us in the cooler if we’re late back.”

  “Really, Roy! Sometimes I wonder about your upbringing,” said Ivy, and disappeared upstairs for her coat.

  • • •

  WHEN THEY WERE safely settled in Deirdre’s car, Ivy warmed up and said this was really nice.

  “Lovely to have a trip out without having to talk business!” Deirdre agreed.

  “Don’t know about that,” said Ivy. “We always have to be alert. Ears and eyes open.”

  “We can try to forget it for one morning,” answered Deirdre, determined to make this an enjoyable outing, if only for dear old Roy.

  Ivy was quiet for ten minutes or so, and then said, “Aren’t we somewhere near Settlefield? I’m sure I saw it on a signpost we just passed.”

  “Not far,” Deirdre replied.

  Ivy relapsed into silence for a minute or two, then said, “Shall we go and call on your friends, Deirdre? Just to say hello? We might see that baby you’re so fond of.”

  “We can’t just turn up, three of us, Ivy dear,” said Roy. “Not without calling them to see if it is convenient. After all, he’s a busy farmer and she’s a young mum.”

  “All the more reason to go without notice,” Ivy said. “They won’t rush around tidying up. What do you say, Deirdre? You know them pretty well.”

  “Mm, well, I suppose it w
ould be okay. They’re a very nice couple. He’ll be out on the farm, anyway, probably. Oh look, here’s another turn to Settlefield. Sit tight.”

  She executed a neat turn to the right, and soon they approached the lane leading to the farm.

  • • •

  AS DEIRDRE HAD supposed, William Jossland was out with the tractor, and Bella greeted them warmly. She insisted that they help Roy up the steps into the warm kitchen, where she put on the kettle for tea.

  “What a lovely surprise!” she said. “We are always hoping Mrs. Bloxham will drop in to see us, but it is wonderful to meet Roy. A real, live Goodman relation! Such a pity we never met before. That ridiculous feud, so long ago. Anyway, now we’ve found you, we shall keep in touch.”

  “Is Faith asleep?” Deirdre asked. “Ivy and Roy have heard so much about her. I’m sure they’d love to have a peek.”

  On cue, a wail from above sent Bella off to bring her downstairs, and the next ten minutes were spent passing her around for a cuddle. When it was Ivy’s turn, the cuddle lasted exactly sixty seconds, before she handed the warm bundle on to Deirdre.

  Finally Roy thought it appropriate to mention Ethel. “We were so sorry to hear about your aunt,” he said. “Still, she was a good age. I don’t remember her very well, I’m afraid.”

  Bella was immediately serious. “Yes, we were sad. But the old lady had been almost unaware of any kind of life for quite a while. I remembered having birthday cards from her when I was little, but otherwise she didn’t figure much in family get-togethers. There was always a kind of mystery surrounding her! Everyone called her ‘poor Ethel.’ I do remember that.”

  “Do you recall anyone named Lowe in her life? Alf Lowe?” asked Ivy, and Deirdre frowned at her. No business talk, hadn’t they agreed?

  Bella shook her head. “Why?” she asked.

  “Just wondered,” Ivy said, and smiled defiantly at Deirdre.

  “Though wait a minute,” Bella said. “I know she had lots of boyfriends when she was young, and I seem to have heard that name. Could’ve been one of them. I’ll ask William when he comes in. Josslands and Goodmans certainly knew each other, so he might remember hearing the name.”