The Sleeping Salesman Enquiry

by Ann Purser

  He looked at his watch. Time to go down for the tea party. It was a lovely day, and when he went to find Ivy, the sun streamed in through the lounge windows. She was sitting in their usual corner, and Gus had already arrived.

  “Deirdre might be a few minutes late,” said Ivy. “She called and said she had an unexpected visitor.”

  “Let’s hope he or she was not clutching a piece of white paper with red capitals,” said Ivy sharply. “We’ve had quite enough of that nonsense.”

  On cue, Deirdre appeared at the lounge door and waved at them.

  “Looks cheerful enough,” muttered Ivy to Roy, who nodded and with difficulty got to his feet.

  “Sit down, Roy dear,” said Deirdre. “Though it is really nice to see gentlemanly manners occasionally.” She looked pointedly at Gus, who shot to his feet.

  “Please take my seat, Mrs. Bloxham,” he said with exaggerated politeness.

  “Okay, okay. Sorry I’m late, Ivy, but I had a stranger at my door, trying to get in to talk to me. Foot in the door. The usual thing. But my Bert taught me a way of dealing with that. We keep a heavy hammer handy, and one blow from that on the intruding foot works wonders.”

  “But he left you a piece of paper?” guessed Ivy.

  Deirdre nodded, and handed a crumpled message, now familiar to the others, across the table to Ivy.

  “Oh, really, this is ridiculous,” she said, and put the paper down in the centre of the table so all could read it.

  TO IVY BEASLEY, YOU HAVE BEEN SENSSIBLE SO FAR. NOW BRAKE IT OFF, OR YORE TOMCAT MEATS HIS WATERRY END.

  “Spelling gets worse, but that sounds nasty,” said Gus. “I presume the oaf who brought it cleared off quickly?”

  “Hobbled away, more likely,” said Deirdre cheerfully. “And he didn’t have an earring. Not today, anyway. It was quite difficult to see his face, as he was obviously growing a beard. Not much more than black stubble, but looked very odd with the bald head. And definitely no earring. I looked specially.”

  “Well-done, Dee-Dee.” Gus looked at her admiringly. “You are a brave lass. So what do we think about this one, Ivy?”

  “I say again what I’ve thought about all of them. We ignore them, and carry on as usual. O’ course, the minute the police got involved, things changed. I’m not saying they shouldn’t be, but now there isn’t a soul in a twenty-mile radius who doesn’t know Mr. Goodman and Miss Beasley are having trouble getting wed.”

  “Then if you don’t mind, Ivy, may I take charge of this latest message? I’ll take it to the police station tomorrow.” Gus picked up the paper and folded it carefully before tucking it into his jacket pocket.

  “I’m so sorry about Tiddles,” Deirdre said, anxious to avoid another tearful exit from Ivy. But she needn’t have worried. Ivy said that if anyone asked her, she would say that Tiddles was capable of taking care of himself, and would reappear. She felt it in her bones.

  Katya appeared, bearing a tray of scones, with jam and cream, and a luscious-looking fruitcake. “Now, Miss Beasley, will you pour the tea, or would you like me to do it?”

  “I’d really like Mrs. Bloxham to be mother,” said Ivy sweetly. “She’s been a good girl today, so we’ll give her pride of place.”

  Deirdre thought to herself that if pouring tea was the reward, then there was little incentive in being brave. But then she felt her eyes smarting with a salty tear as Ivy smiled at her. “Thanks, Ivy,” she said. “Tea with milk, everybody?”

  • • •

  “THAT’S A NASTY bruise, Frank,” said Beryl. “How on earth did you get that?”

  “Caught my foot in a pothole on the pavement outside Tesco’s. You got any of that bruise cream, Mother?”

  “Upstairs in the medicine cabinet,” she said. “It’s a bit old. We haven’t needed it since Dad stopped throwing himself about and tripping up on everything. Should be all right, though. And while you’re up there, for goodness’ sake have a shave. You look like them dropouts in the church porch in the market square.”

  Forty-nine

  GUS AROSE EARLY, and set out with Whippy for her morning walk. It was another sunny day, though there was a sharp little wind. He had put on the Fair Isle knitted dog coat that Ivy had made for her, and they kept up a good pace along Hangman’s Lane until they came to the entrance to the woods.

  “Just as well dogs don’t need wellies, Whippy,” Gus said, as they pushed through dripping undergrowth. “Must have rained in the night.”

  “Talking to yourself, Gus?”

  He looked round swiftly, hoping not to see a beefy character with an earring. But it was his landlord, the Honourable Theodore Roussel, holding a large black Labrador on a lead, and smiling benevolently at his tenant.

  Gus laughed with relief. “Last person you talk to before the men in white coats arrive, I’m told,” he said.

  “Not as bad as that, I hope? Shall we let them off their leads? Less chance of a fight that way.”

  They duly unhooked the dogs, and walked on, chatting amiably. Each knew the other enjoyed Deirdre’s favours, but jealousy had evolved into a wary tolerance, most of the time. Finally, Theo said he would be turning back, and Gus turned, too.

  “How’s the enquiry agency going? Caught any murderers lately?” Theo laughed as though he’d never heard anything so ridiculous.

  “On the way to catching one, I think,” said Gus. “There is one thing puzzling us at the moment, and you might be able to help.”

  “Fire away. Only too pleased.”

  “Well, you probably know Maleham’s Furniture Store in Thornwell?”

  “Not really,” answered Theo, frowning. “All gimcrack rubbish, I believe.”

  “Possibly,” said Gus. “But it is an old family firm, and I wondered if you had come across any of them in the past? Frank Maleham, particularly?”

  “Sorry; no help, I’m afraid. Any other way I can assist?”

  “Lowe, then. Alf Lowe? I believe his father was a gamekeeper for you at one time?”

  “Oh, heavens, yes. Dreadful fellow. Had to get rid of him in the end. Not Alf, of course. His father. But I do remember hearing that Alf was a great one for the girls when young! He was a good-looking lad, I believe, and played the field. One of his girlfriends was a relative of your colleague, Roy Goodman. Quite a scandal at the time, so I was told. O’ course, things were different in those days. Pregnant girls without husbands were treated cruelly, and sent away, just as if they had committed a serious crime instead of a moment of unbridled passion, what?”

  They had arrived back outside Gus’s cottage, and Theo strode off chuckling.

  Gus fed Whippy and topped up her water bowl. “Here I come, Alf,” he said aloud, “Time to tell all. Now, back soon, little dog,” he added, and stroked her velvety head.

  • • •

  AS HE APPROACHED Alf’s cottage, he was pleased to see a light in his window, and smoke curling up from the chimney. He knocked, and shouted through the keyhole, “Alf? It’s Gus Halfhide. Don’t get up. I’ll let myself in.”

  No reply. But then he heard a key scraping, and a voice shouted, “Yer silly bugger, it’s locked!”

  Gus waited, and then the door opened a crack. “Whatcha want?”

  “To see how you are and if you need anything. Or just a chat, if you feel like it.”

  “Best come in, then.” The door opened another six inches.

  Gus squeezed in and shut the door behind him. “Now, you sit down by the fire, Alf,” he said. “I hope you didn’t have to light it yourself?” He could see a full log basket and a scuttle of coal by Alf’s chair.

  “No,” said Alf, and then he cackled. “A pretty young lady came in and helped me get dressed, and then she did the fire and made me some breakfast. How’s that for aftercare service?”

  “Very good,” said Gus. “Let’s hope they keep it up. So, did they treat you well in hospital? Plenty of visitors?”

  “Nobody except them two from Springfields. The never-to-be-wed Ivy Beasl
ey and Roy Goodman. I suppose it was quite nice of them to bother. But I got the feeling they just wanted to pump me for information. Anyway, they didn’t stay long.”

  Because you made sure they didn’t, thought Gus. He wondered how Alf knew about the banns problem, but on second thought realised that the whole village knew. No doubt about that.

  “So what’ve you been up to with the widow Bloxham?” Alf said, with a knowing wink.

  “She is a colleague and friend,” Gus replied. “We meet regularly on business.”

  “And funny business, too, eh?” Alf laughed at his own wit, and said that if Gus had nothing to do, would he like to make them both a cup of coffee? “The things are in the kitchen, which is cleaner than it’s ever been.”

  “The pretty young carer?”

  “Got it in one, Gus. Anyway, I’m glad you come. I was beginning to get a bit fed up with my own company.”

  Gus made the coffee, and sat down opposite Alf. “What shall we talk about?” he said, pleased that Alf seemed to be warm and relaxed.

  “How’s about you telling me about poor old Ivy and Roy? It’s only what’s to be expected, really. Ridiculous, getting married at their age. And him rich as Croesus! You’d think he’d want to hang on to his money, instead of hitching himself up to a grasping spinster.” He looked at Gus as if weighing up some serious problem.

  “Well, you may be right. But Roy has nobody else to leave his money to. And in any case, you can be sure he is in regular touch with his lawyer. He’ll have his will sewn up nice and tight.”

  “Don’t you believe it!” said Alf. “Them Goodmans wouldn’t spend a penny on solicitors, not if they was forced at gunpoint!”

  Gus pounced. “They say Ethel Goodman, the old unmarried lady who’s just died, was sitting on a fortune.”

  “Not likely!” said Alf. “She was cut out of her parents’ will when she was a girl. Poor old thing. Just enough to pay the old folks’ home, and even then she was subsidised by the state.”

  “Cut out of their will? Why on earth did they do that?”

  “Oh, I forget now,” Alf said, yawning loudly. “Good gawd, Gus, I ain’t done nothing today, and I’m tired out. You’d better go now, and I’ll have a bit of a nap. Come again when you want. And lock the door behind you, then shove the key back through the letter box.”

  As Gus walked back down Cemetery Lane to Springfields, he considered Alf’s reaction to his question about Ethel Goodman. It was as clear as if he had kicked him physically out of the cottage. Alf was not prepared to talk about Ethel’s disgrace, and now Gus knew why.

  • • •

  ROY AND IVY, blissfully unaware that they were being insulted by Alf Lowe, sat companionably in Ivy’s room, playing cribbage. Roy claimed that it helped him to think clearly, in spite of the fact that Ivy won nine times out of ten.

  Katya tapped at their door, and said that Mr. Halfhide was below, and should she send him up?

  “Gus? Yes, of course, ask him to come up, and bring us some coffee and cookies, if you have time, dear,” said Ivy.

  “We didn’t expect you this morning, Augustus,” said Ivy, as he came in looking pleased with himself.

  “Just passing, Ivy,” he said. “I’ve been to see Alf Lowe, and I thought you’d like to know how I fared with the old devil.”

  “Sent you packing, did he?” said Roy, smiling.

  “No, quite the contrary. He asked me in, and we had coffee together. He looked pale, but he’s being well looked after by his carer. I think you might see him resident here before long,” he added.

  “That’s neither here nor there,” said Ivy briskly. “What progress did you make?”

  “Right. One, Alf says that you, Roy, are as rich as Croesus. Two, he disapproves of old people getting married. Three, he shut up like a clam when I asked him about Ethel Goodman’s disgrace. But before that he had said she hadn’t a penny to her name and her parents had cut her out of their will.”

  All three sat silently digesting this. Then Gus said, “There’s more. I met the squire, and we had a chat. Got onto the subject of Alf Lowe and his colourful past. Theo remembered one of the lads getting a Goodman girl into trouble, and her being sent away in disgrace. We agreed that morals were much stricter in those days.”

  Then Ivy frowned, cleared her throat, and asked Roy if he knew whether there had been an illegitimate baby in all this. “Not getting at you, beloved. Just wondered if there had been talk of such a thing. Sounds likely that it was Ethel, poor Ethel, remember, who was sent off for a good while under a cloud. And maybe returned, tolerated but not forgiven?”

  Roy shook his head. “That’s women’s talk, I’m afraid, Ivy. And sadly there are no women of that generation to ask. I suppose the young Josslands might have heard the old folks gossiping. Just don’t know, Ivy. Oh, and by the way, Gus, I’d like to know where the totally false rumour that I am a millionaire came from. It is beginning to irritate me.”

  Ivy put out a hand to take Roy’s. “Don’t fret, dearest,” she said. “I would love you, and marry you, if you hadn’t two ha’pennies to rub together.”

  Fifty

  “SODDING CAT ESCAPED,” said Frank. “Got out when I was feeding it.”

  “Your fault,” said Beryl. “An old rabbit hutch is no place for a cat. I don’t know why you brought it home, anyway. Nasty old stray tomcat. It scratched my hand when I tried to make a fuss of it. If you really want a cat, I’ll get you a nice tabby.”

  “You’d think it’d be grateful, being rescued, wouldn’t you?” said Frank. “Anyway, don’t bother, thanks. I’ve had enough of cats already. Are you going up the store this afternoon? I got the day off, and thought I’d go and have a ride round the villages.”

  “Not in my car, you aren’t! That dent on the wing is a real mess. Go on your bike, if it’s still roadworthy. And yes, I am going to the store, so I’ll need the car myself. Why don’t you go into Oakbridge on the train?”

  “That’d make a nice change, wouldn’t it?” said Frank, with heavy irony. “No, I’ll come in with you. There’s always something to do. Uncle Maleham might give me a cup of tea, and I don’t think he’d mind.”

  “Old skinflint! He wouldn’t give you the time of day. Still, you can help your mates in the warehouse.”

  “And don’t say it, Mother! I know what you’re thinking. ‘Get yourself a nice girl and have a family of your own; then you wouldn’t have so much time on your hands being idle.’ Well, chance would be a fine thing. All the girls I could get interested in are fixed up already. You’ll just have to put up with me for a bit longer.”

  • • •

  ELVIS THE TAXI driver had a difficult assignment this afternoon. Ivy Beasley had phoned him earlier, and said in a whisper he could hardly hear that she would like him to collect her and take her into Thornwell. She wanted to buy a secret birthday present for Roy’s birthday in two weeks’ time. What with the anonymous threats and trouble with the banns, she had completely forgotten.

  She had told Roy that she had an appointment with the dentist. As he had arranged to join a whist game in the lounge, he was finally persuaded to let her go on her own, but with Elvis keeping an eye on her and bringing her safely back to Springfields.

  When Elvis arrived to pick her up, to his surprise she asked him to go straight to Maleham’s Furniture Store.

  “But what about the birthday present, Miss Beasley?” he said.

  “I haven’t forgotten,” said Ivy, “and we can do that as well. Sorry, Elvis, but it is necessary, believe me. I need to have a look at something in the bedding department. I might even buy the present there, and then I can make an appointment with a dentist, so my lie is only a small one. Do you know of a reliable dentist in Thornwell?”

  “Never use them myself,” said Elvis proudly. “My mum was a devil about sweets and sticky drinks when we were little. Result: good teeth! My sister’s the same, though she has them whitened every so often. But I know there’s one spoken highly of in
the middle of town. Would that do?”

  Ivy nodded, and said she would appreciate it if Elvis could keep her secret.

  “I’m not too happy about it, Miss Beasley,” he said. “I don’t like deceiving Mr. Goodman. He’s always been so kind to me. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “Perfectly sure, young man,” Ivy said sharply. “Sometimes white lies are a good thing. Now, off we go. First stop, the furniture store.”

  • • •

  BERYL MALEHAM DECIDED to vary her usual programme of wandering around the store on the ground floor, and then ending up in the beds department upstairs. Today she dropped Frank off at the warehouse double doors and parked her car at the back of the building as usual. Then she made her way round to the front of the store and ascended to the beds, planning to work her way down and have a cup of tea in the little café newly installed by the front entrance.

  As she pottered round, admiring new designs, she wondered if she had been too harsh on the boss, her Maleham cousin. He never complained about her frequent visits. But then, looking at it another way, wasn’t her respectable presence a much better thing than a department with not a single customer in sight?

  When she reached the upper floor, she drifted round happily, and finally settled herself in a jazzily upholstered armchair. The price of it astonished her, and she decided it would be last thing she would want in her bedroom. But it was so comfortable that in spite of her best efforts to stay awake, her eyelids began to close.

  “Well, if it isn’t Beryl!” said a familiar voice. Beryl looked round guiltily, and saw Miss Beasley beaming at her.

  “Hello, Ivy!” she said. “Fancy seeing you again.” She laughed and said it was a nice coincidence, and was she now Mrs. Goodman?