“It was commonly thought in the village that you and Polly were walking out together. I assumed you would be devastated by this news.”
“Polly and me stopped courting a few weeks back. She said life with a farmer wasn’t what suited her anymore and that she had bigger plans for herself than collecting eggs and praying for a good summer. She said she’d had enough of all that when she worked in the Land Army and wasn’t about to do it again.”
“So she broke things off with you because you rented this place?”
“That was what she told me but I think that was just an excuse.” Norman gripped the arms of the chair so hard his knuckles whitened.
“Why did you not believe her, Norman?” Edwina asked. “If I recall, Polly was never the most enthusiastic Land Girl. Not like Agnes Rollins and some of the other women.” Edwina kept her gaze on his face as she said Agnes’ name. She noted a tightening between his brows when she said the missing girl’s name.
“I think she had found someone else. Someone who she could be proud of instead of a man who spent the whole war on the farm where he saw nothing more dangerous than a cow who kicked when you milked her,” Norman said.
“Why would you say that? Polly understood as well as any of the Land Army women how necessary agricultural workers were. I can’t imagine she would have held the fact you were needed here against you. And I certainly don’t think it meant she had a new man in her life,” Edwina said.
“I followed her. I know she was with someone else,” Norman said. “She used to get all dressed up in her finery and head to the cinema every chance she got. I took her there myself whenever I could make the time and had the spare money but it was never often enough for her.”
“Were you at the cinema two nights ago perhaps?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because I saw her outside of the cinema before the evening show began. Someone called out to her but she didn’t answer. I wondered if it were you in the shadows.”
“What if it was?”
“If you still cared for Polly at all you will be as eager as anyone to find out what really happened to her. If you were at the cinema and didn’t do something rash and regrettable you may have seen something that could help with the enquiry into her death.”
“I thought the investigation was over. Polly’s parents told me Constable Gibbs was satisfied that Polly tripped and hit her head.”
“You know that field better than anyone else. How stony is it out there?”
“It isn’t. That’s one of the reasons I decided to do whatever it took to rent it. The soil is friable and almost entirely free of stones. It’s perfect for crops.”
“Then you must understand my reluctance to agree with Constable Gibbs. I think it very unlikely that Polly would have died by striking her head upon a stone in that particular field. Which brings us straight back to what really befell her.” Edwina looked over her spectacles at him. “So, were you watching her at the cinema the night before last?”
Norman nodded slowly. “I was. I couldn’t think straight ever since she told me she was done with me. I’ve been up late, can’t awaken early. I can’t concentrate on my work at all.” Norman drew in a ragged breath. “I just thought if I knew for sure that she was with someone else I could let her go. If she seemed happy.”
“So you were the one in front of the cinema.”
“I’m not proud of it, but I was. I called out to her and she ignored me. I told myself maybe she didn’t hear me so I raised my voice.” Norman bent his head. “She looked straight at me then turned her back and ran round the side of the cinema like she needed to get away from me. Like she wanted to avoid me at all costs.”
“Did you follow her?”
“God help me, I did. I just couldn’t believe she would snub me like that. After all the time we were together. So yeah, I followed her clear round the back of the Palais. She went right up to the back door and pounded on it like she knew someone would answer.”
“Did someone open the door?”
“Right quick like they did. I’d be willing to bet anything you’d wager that he was waiting for her on the other side of the door.”
“Who was waiting?”
“That poor sod with the tin mask. Walter Bennett.”
“The projectionist?” Edwina was stunned. Walter Bennett was a recluse. No one in the village knew much about him at all. He had arrived before the end of the war and had wanted nothing more than to be left in peace. He lived in a cottage on the side of the Wallingford Estate closest to the village but he still was rarely seen. He even had his groceries delivered. He spoke to no one as far as she knew. The idea that he would have been waiting for Polly seemed preposterous. She looked pointedly at the bottle of spirits. Norman seemed to hear her thoughts.
“You could have knocked me over with a baby’s sigh when I saw him standing there. He actually reached out and pulled her into the back room of the cinema by the arm. Not that she looked like she minded.”
“Did you not think to go in after her? To be sure she had wanted to be pulled into the cinema? After all, she ended up dead not long afterward.”
“You don’t think I haven’t spent every minute since I heard the news wondering if she would still be alive if I had swallowed my pride?” Norman’s voice grew husky and Edwina felt a cold dread that he might begin to cry.
“I’m sure it has been terrible for you.” Edwina meant it. How he must have suffered playing his choice over and over in his mind.
“I didn’t have any money to buy a ticket, you see, and I did try the back door but it was locked up tight. I wasn’t about to go in and admit to the ticket girl than I hadn’t even the cost of a ticket in my pocket. I was humiliated enough by the look on Polly’s face. I wasn’t going to put myself through that with another girl and whichever folks from the village who happened to be there, too.”
“I’ve chided myself for not following her round back of the building when I saw her, too. You mustn’t judge yourself too harshly.” Edwina thought of something else. “Did you wait to see her come out again?”
“I tried to wait up for her. Truly I did, but it was cold and dark and I was already dead on my feet. I had a long walk home and no supper awaiting me neither.” Norman most definitely looked like he might burst into tears. “After a couple of hours leaning against the back wall of the Palais I couldn’t take it anymore. I just up and left her there.”
“Did you see anyone else there? Did anyone see you leave?”
“I saw the lights from a couple of vehicles pass down the street but I never saw the motorcars themselves. As far as I know, no one saw me. Why would they? No one had any business at the back of the cinema at any time of the day but certainly not in the evening when a show was playing inside.”
“What about after you started walking home? Did you see anyone then?” Edwina asked.
“No. I cut through the fields like you must have done when you found my poor Polly. And before you ask, I doubt anyone saw me either.”
“Did you not notice any lights along the road running up to the Wallingford Estate?” Edwina thought again about Beryl’s assertion that Polly’s shoes were too clean to have traipsed through the field. A car would have explained how they stayed that way.
“I didn’t notice any lights of any kind until I saw what turned out to be your torches when you discovered her. Now mind you, I started in trying to drown my sorrows just about as soon as I reached home.” Norman sighed. “Like a dog licking its wounds. If it weren’t for my worries about vandals in the crops I would have ignored you being out there, too.”
“You didn’t run across any of Polly’s walking shoes anywhere along the way, did you?”
“No. No shoes at all. Why do you ask?”
“Polly was wearing a pair of dress shoes when we found her. I don’t think she would have planned to walk through the field in them.”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t have. Polly was proud of her appearanc
e. Besides, she would have known I had dressed the field. The scent would have been impossible to ignore, even from her parents’ place. Whenever the wind shifted they would have smelt it. Polly would have taken the road.”
“You didn’t see her body in the morning just lying out there?”
“I wouldn’t have done. I was busy all day out in another field digging and harvesting. Not to mention I had been in the village in the morning delivering veg to my uncle. It takes ages to get there and back with the speeds old Joe will move.” Norman let out a slow sigh. “I just wish I could have been some sort of help to her.”
“You have been a help, Norman. However you left things I imagine Polly would have been proud of the way you’ve spoken up for her and tried to help make things right.” Edwina rose. “I had best be getting along home. I suggest you try to eat something. You can’t bring Polly back but you won’t be happy if you can’t get those fields ready for winter. It will be here before you know it.”
Chapter 18
The garage bay still held her car but neither mechanic was in view when Beryl stepped into Blackburn and Blackburn looking for Michael. At the back of the garage she spotted a wooden door with a grimy windowpane. She approached and listened for sounds from inside. The distinct squeak of chair castors in need of oiling reached her ears and she rapped upon the glass.
“Come in,” called Michael’s booming voice. Beryl looked at the bench beside the door and without really questioning why she did so, she picked up a spanner and slipped it into one of her deep coat pockets. One could never be too well prepared when entering a possible enemy’s den. She checked to be sure she felt her smile slip into place then turned the knob.
“Mrs. Helliwell, what brings you back by? Are you checking up on our progress with your motorcar?” Michael stood as she entered and gestured to the chair opposite him across a wooden desk that had seen better decades. She liked her chances. Michael’s desk sat between him and the door. Likely, no matter how unpopular and impertinent her questions, she could get out of the garage before any real harm could reach her. She eased down into the chair and leaned back as if she had all the time in the world for a chat.
“As it happens, I did want to ask you about my car. I wanted your expert opinion about how it handles out on the open road.”
“The open road?” Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette pack. He tapped on the pack and held it out to Beryl.
She shook her head. “Thanks, but I prefer my vices to be of the liquid variety.” She waited for him to strike a match on the bottom of his heavy work boot then asked again. “I meant two nights ago in the late evening. Personally, I love driving in the dark. It helps me to think when there is nothing but me and the open road.”
The door to the garage opened once more and Norah appeared in the threshold.
“Hello, sis. Miss Helliwell and I were just discussing the joys of night driving,” Michael said. Norah crossed the room and came to lean up against the desk, crossing one trouser-clad leg over the other.
“I can’t say I have much of a taste for the dark,” Norah said. “I prefer being able to see a good long way ahead of me. You feel just the same, don’t you, Michael?” Norah turned to her brother and Beryl had the distinct impression that she was coaching him as to what to say.
“After spending so much time in the trenches I like to have my eyes where I can see things.”
“I see what you mean. I just wondered how the car was coming along. Someone said they saw it out two nights ago for a run and I hoped from what you said when first we met that that meant it would have been ready by now. I’ve missed driving her rather terribly.”
“One gets used to the luxury of driving quite quickly, I think,” Norah said. “Or at least one comes to prefer riding to walking almost as soon as one can choose.”
“Edwina and I quite missed the opportunity to take the car the other night.” Beryl paused. “I’m sure you’re heard about what happened?”
“We try not to get involved in village gossip. I find it’s bad for business to take notice of such things.” Norah shook her head at Michael ever so slightly.
“But you have heard about Polly Watkins?” Beryl asked.
“It’s got nothing to do with us, does it, Michael?” Norah got up and went round the desk to stand beside him. She placed a hand on his shoulder. Beryl wondered if Norah was worried she might mention Agnes Rollins and wanted to be there to calm her brother should he become agitated. She slipped her hand into her pocket and wrapped her fingers around the comforting heft of the spanner.
“I should think in a small village like this where everyone knows each other that a murder would be cause for anyone to take notice,” Beryl said.
“Constable Gibbs said it was an accident,” Michael said, looking up at Norah. She nodded down at him reassuringly. “No one said anything about a murder.”
“I believe I just did. Which is why I was asking about one of you taking my car out for a run. Someone said they’d seen it on the road at about the same time the last show of the evening finished up at the cinema up the street two nights ago.”
“The person must have been mistaken. Your automobile was safe as houses here in the garage.” Norah said. “Michael and I were home together all evening after we closed up here.”
“Is that so?” Beryl asked, turning to Michael.
“If Norah says so, who am I to disagree?” he said.
“It is a rather a distinctive-looking conveyance. I shouldn’t have thought it was an easy thing to mistake.”
“Who, if I may ask, told you they had seen it out?” Norah asked.
“I’m afraid I cannot give out that sort of information during the course of an investigation.” Beryl straightened her shoulders and shook her head in a way that she hoped looked convincingly final.
“Well, whomever says they saw it out either needs a new pair of spectacles or happens to be lying. We don’t want to sound uncaring but we hardly knew Polly to speak to and we’ve had more than enough involvement with lives snuffed out at too early an age to want to dwell on one so loosely connected to us.”
“I suppose someone else might have let themselves into the garage and taken it out without our knowing,” Michael said.
“Don’t you lock the garage at night?” Beryl asked.
“We do, but there isn’t any reason someone might not have pried the lock open and let themselves in. Your automobile would be very tempting for a lot of the young lads round here,” Norah said.
“Not just the young ones either. That Norman Davies stopped in after delivering a load of veg to his uncle the other morning. He said a vehicle like yours would make a lot of his problems disappear,” Michael said.
“What do you think he meant by that?” Beryl asked.
“He was later than usual dropping off his produce. I figured he meant that he could transport things from the farm to the town in a motorized vehicle a lot more quickly than he could by using a pony and a wagon,” Michael said.
“Have you any reason to suspect that this is what happened? Was the car in different condition when you arrived yesterday morning than when you left it the night before?” Another flicker passed between the pair of them and Beryl felt she would have much to share with Edwina when they reconvened at the Beeches.
“No. I can’t say that there was anything amiss. It was just one possible explanation for what your witness saw, not an accusation by any means,” Norah said. “As I’m sure you noticed, we are still finishing up with your motorcar. If you would like to have it back tomorrow we should really get back to work.”
Beryl stood. “Thanks for your time. I look forward to having it back as soon as possible. If either of you think of anything out of the ordinary or anything connected to Polly I would appreciate you letting me know straightaway.”
Beryl was quite certain she heard a joint sigh of relief as she closed the door behind her. She stood listening at it for a moment hoping to overhear so
mething that cleared up the fact that Eva insisted she had seen the car out on the street. When nothing was forthcoming she stepped over to the bench and returned the spanner to the workbench as silently as possible. She stepped out into the bright sunshine and quickened her steps for home.
* * *
“So what did you find out?” Edwina asked as soon as Beryl entered the hall. Edwina helped her out of her coat and hung it for her and raced ahead to the sitting room where a fire and a snifter of something amber colored and alluring sat next to a half-filled decanter. Beryl flopped into the chair and cradled the glass in both hands. She was delighted to see Edwina looking as animated as she herself felt. What a change only a few days could make. Then Beryl thought the same could have been said for Polly Watkins and she lost a bit of her sparkle.
“I had a most informative day. It turns out Polly was on a special list of young ladies that Mr. Mumford provided with free access to the cinema.”
“Why ever would he do favors like that?” Edwina asked. Despite their age, her friend was still so innocent in many ways, Beryl thought. It was almost a crime to disillusion her. But one had to accept that in the course of an investigation nothing could be held sacred.
“He was hoping they would extend favors of their own in his direction I expect.”
“Where did you hear such a nasty rumor?”
“From Eva, the ticket girl at the theater. She said quite a number of girls and women were extended that privilege in the three years or so that she had been working there. The interesting thing was that she thought maybe Agnes had also been one of them. Nurse Crenshaw definitely is.”
“Nurse Crenshaw?” Edwina’s teacup shook in her hand. “And Agnes. Still, I suppose Eva would be in a position to know about it if anyone would. Did Eva tell you anything else worth knowing?”
“She did. She said she saw my car racing down the road past the cinema at around the same hour the last showing of the night would have let out.”
“Really?”
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