Beryl wondered about his story. She only had his word for it that Polly had agreed to marry him. The entire thing could be the crazed imaginings of a damaged man. His grief seemed genuine but it might have been guilt as much as love and longing that made him weep. Beryl also had only his word about when Polly left the cinema and in what condition. As far as she knew, he could have killed her in the projectionist’s booth, carried her body to the garage just down the street, and taken Beryl’s own car to transport it to the field.
“How did you come to be romantically entangled?” Beryl asked, hoping his response would either lend credence to his claim or help to disprove it. “Many couples find that their common interests spark their interest in each other. Perhaps your shared love of film brought you together?”
“That was mostly what we talked about. I said she was pretty enough to be a star in one of the films herself and she said I already looked like one. We joked about starring in a film together one day.”
“She must have loved that idea considering how much she seems to have adored films. She must have had high hopes for your future together to agree to marry you,” Edwina said.
“And there must have been something special between you if she put you at your ease,” Beryl said.
“We talked all the time. It was like I was bursting to communicate with someone after spending so much time alone. Polly had a way of making me feel like I was interesting. Smart, too. She said I could be anything I put my mind to,” he said. “She was so curious about everything. She loved to hear me tell her about other parts of the world, places beyond the village.”
“Do you think she wanted to see you that night because of the engagement? Maybe to discuss the wedding?” Edwina asked.
“I suppose that is possible,” Mr. Bennett said. “But she wasn’t here when I arrived home.”
“She wasn’t here?”
“No. There was no sign of her,” Walter said. “Not that I would have had a reason to look for her. I thought she was home safe and sound. After all, why would I think she would be otherwise?”
“You didn’t see this then?” Beryl asked, pulling the wrap from beneath the pillow. Walter let out another sob and he reached for the gauzy, cheap bit of cloth.
“She was wearing that the last time I saw her,” he said.
“That’s what we thought. Miss Davenport and I saw her heading for the cinema that evening. She was still wearing the clothing she had on when she visited you that night. So it sounds as though Michael did bring her straight here,” Beryl said.
“We wondered how she came to be missing it when we came across her lying in the field. It didn’t make any sense that she would walk home without it,” Edwina said.
“How long did it take you to leave the cinema after Polly did?” Beryl asked.
“About an hour or so.”
“Why were you so long in leaving?” Beryl asked
“I needed to splice together some broken film. I like to have everything ready for the next day before I leave at night. Besides, if I wait until it is late enough I never encounter anyone else on my way home.” He held Polly’s wrap up to his neck and let out another shuddering sob. “She must have gotten too impatient to wait any longer and decided to walk back on her own. If I had gotten here sooner she might still be alive. I should have gone for the constable when I arrived home that night.”
“If you didn’t know she was missing why would you have gone for Constable Gibbs?”
“Because I was quite sure someone had been here. This room seemed a bit disarranged and a few items were missing. At least, I couldn’t find them. They didn’t seem valuable enough to report them. When I found out about Polly it drove the incident from my mind.”
“What went missing?” Beryl asked.
“An old bedsheet, the mate to that candlestick, and a pair of work gloves.”
“Are you quite sure about those items?” Edwina asked.
“The cottage is tiny. I don’t tend to lose things as there’s nowhere for them to go,” he said.
“You mustn’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have known anything would happen to her.”
“I should have known there was no possibility of a happy ending for a man like me. How can it be that I survived driving a tank right into the shelling that did this to me”—he tapped his mask with a heavy hand—“and was nursed back from the Spanish Flu by Dr. Nelson but someone like Polly dies violently right in the tiny village where she had every reason to feel safe?”
“It doesn’t seem at all fair. Life seldom does of late,” Beryl said.
“We are terribly, terribly sorry for your loss. Isn’t there anyone we could call to come to be with you?” Edwina asked.
“I don’t want you to call anyone. I’m all on my own. If you don’t mind I’d like to be alone now,” Walter said, tucking his handkerchief back in his pocket. Edwina nodded and handed him her card.
“If you change your mind and decide you need to speak to someone you can ring me at the Beeches. I would be happy to come keep you company should you feel the need of companionship.” She patted him gently on the shoulder and the two of them left him in peace.
Chapter 37
They were back in the car before they spoke again.
“You don’t really think she tried to walk all the way home from here, do you?” Edwina said.
“From the condition of her shoes I would say most definitely that she did not.”
“Why was she really at his cottage, do you think?” Edwina asked.
“You aren’t really that naïve, are you, Ed?” Beryl asked. She had the satisfaction of seeing her old friend’s cheeks color up like two maraschino cherries.
“Surely you don’t mean that she was there to stay the night?” Edwina said.
“Well, if she was, we had best figure out what could have possibly convinced her to up and leave. And more importantly, how she managed to go.” Beryl drummed the steering wheel with her fingertips. “Even though we don’t have those answers we do know a couple things we didn’t know before now.”
“Well, we know that Polly’s wrap was at Mr. Bennett’s cottage and it makes it likely Polly was there herself,” Edwina said.
“We also know that Mr. Bennett knows how to drive. He said that driving a tank led to his disfigurement.”
“You think he was lying about finding her there?” Edwina said. “I found his grief very convincing.”
“He did seem like a man who had lost his last hope. But he may be a very accomplished liar. Neither of us knows a thing about him other than that he is the projectionist at the cinema and has lost his face.”
“We also know he was engaged to be married to Polly,” Edwina said.
“And that he was nursed back from the influenza by Dr. Nelson,” Beryl said. “When did the last wave of influenza pass through this village?”
“Just about the same time Agnes left. It was one of the reasons the search for her was less thorough than I would have liked. There were simply too few people available to conduct the search. So many villagers were confined to their beds and those that weren’t were mostly home tending loved ones that were sick.”
“I feel quite sorry to leave him on his own like that. To be so solitary in a time of grief is a heavy burden,” Beryl said. Edwina was very quiet and Beryl thought perhaps she had brought to mind difficult memories. She was about to apologize when Edwina turned to her and spoke.
“Mr. Bennett has no one to condole with him in his time of grief. How did he call for the doctor?”
“What do you mean? Wouldn’t he just telephone?” Beryl asked.
“This isn’t London, Beryl, and money has been very tight everywhere. Most people in Walmsley Parva don’t have telephones.”
“I think after luncheon with Agnes and Charlie we should pay a call to Dr. Nelson. Perhaps he will remember who the Good Samaritan was that made the call on Mr. Bennett’s behalf,” Beryl said. “But I have one other question I want answered. If you c
an spare me for the luncheon preparations I think I’ll run into the village.”
“If there is one question that never needs to be asked again, Beryl, it is if I need your assistance in the kitchen.”
* * *
Beryl pulled the car to the curb on the high street just outside of Prudence’s shop. Excitement always left her with a hankering for sweets. She pushed open the door of the shop and stepped inside. Prudence was handing a parcel across the gleaming counter to a small woman with red hair. She shut the drawer of the till with a slam and turned her toothy smile on Beryl.
“Miss Helliwell, what a pleasure to see you in my shop once more. What can I help you with today?”
“Miss Davenport and I are having a guest for luncheon and I wanted to pick up a confection to share. I always think it’s nice to have something sweet at the end of a meal, don’t you?”
“Agnes Rollins is it that you’ll be wanting them for?” Prudence asked. She leaned predatorily over the counter. Beryl was certain she actually saw Prudence’s ears wiggle at the notion of such gossip. “I saw her with Edwina at the funeral.”
“How well informed you are about the goings-on in Walmsley Parva. How long has it been since you last saw Agnes?” Beryl asked, stepping over to view the glass case filled with chocolates and nougats.
“I’m sure I can’t say. A nice girl she always was. Polite, not like so many young people these days.”
“I understood that when the Land Army girls first came to Walmsley Parva the people around here weren’t so very eager to have them. Thought they might not be the sort of girls that were a good influence on a community.”
“There were people who were opposed to them being here in the early days but after a time they came to appreciate the hard work the girls did. Mind you, everyone still agreed it was work hardly suited to young ladies.”
“There must have been times when the girls did something that caused the odd raised eyebrow. At least from time to time,” Beryl said with a shake of the head she hoped looked like disapproval.
“Well, not to speak ill of the dead but Polly was said to have been spending enough time at the cinema to attract attention. She had a young man she was seeing but that didn’t stop her from being no better than she ought to have been.” Prudence opened the case and pulled out a tray of sugared almonds. “At least that’s what people say. Not that I pay much mind to that sort of thing.”
“Polly wasn’t the only one of the Land Army women that caused tongues to wag though, was she?” Beryl looked around conspiratorially as if to assure herself that they were alone in the shop. “Agnes wasn’t always blameless from what I heard.” Prudence’s nostrils quivered as if she could smell scandal.
“Agnes only made herself the talk of Walmsley Parva when she disappeared and it would be fair to say when she came back into town for Polly’s funeral.”
“Are you quite sure there was nothing else?” Beryl asked. “No complaints about her deliveries with the milk float.”
“Not that I had ever heard of. She always left my pint at the door before I came down for it in the morning.”
“May I have two pounds of the chocolates?” Beryl asked. Prudence nodded and pulled out a tray of gleaming sweets. “So, you never had cause to complain to Hortense Merriweather about Agnes’ tardiness with a morning delivery right before she left the village?”
“I would certainly remember a thing like that.” Prudence gently placed chocolate after chocolate into a white paper box. “Agnes was a conscientious girl and I never had cause for complaint in regards to her. Why would you think that I had?”
“Just something Agnes said the other day. I must have misunderstood her,” Beryl said. “These are just lovely. Shall I tell Agnes you send your regards?”
Beryl paid for the sweets and tucked the box under her arm. She walked back to the car wondering just where the confusion lay.
* * *
“And you are quite sure Hortense said she had a complaint from Prudence Rathbone about your tardiness?” Beryl asked, looking across the long dining room table. Edwina passed their young guest a platter of stuffed eggs. Beryl had been antsy from the moment she had arrived. Edwina had not given any thought to her friend’s secret errand while she was hurrying to prepare the meal but now that they were seated around the table she remembered.
“I think it was Prudence. I suppose it could have been someone else and I just remember it as the sort of thing she would have said.”
“But she didn’t. I stopped into her shop just now and asked her about the complaint and about your reputation in town. She had nothing but glowing things to say about you.”
“Prudence Rathbone had glowing things to say about someone other than the King?” Edwina could not quite believe her ears. First Simpkins was proving a useful person to have round the house and now Prudence Rathbone had complimented a commoner? The Earth must be slouching on its axis. Or maybe there was something demonic overtaking the citizenry of Walmsley Parva. One read about these things in the sorts of sensational novels she often borrowed from the reading room.
“She did indeed,” Beryl said, seizing an egg and stuffing into her mouth. Edwina was pleased to see Beryl took the time, despite her obvious excitement, to swallow it before speaking. She would hate to think Simpkins was a bad influence on her friend. “Are you still certain about what you said about Hortense being angry about a telephone call?”
“Yes, of that I am certain. She met me on the route and gave me a right dressing-down. I don’t think I shall ever forget it.” Agnes held a cup of beef broth to Benjy’s plump lips then wiped his mouth after he sipped his fill.
“Would you be willing to show me the route you took that morning?” Beryl asked.
“It wasn’t just that morning. It was the same every morning. But certainly I’d be happy to do so. You don’t suppose it would be a good idea to take Benjy out with us, do you? He’s getting quite restless cooped up in the house.”
“That is up to you. We’ll take the car to make things easier. Do you think he’ll like that?” Beryl asked. Edwina fervently hoped Agnes would object. In her opinion motorcars, at least not those driven by Beryl, were not suitable for children.
“I’m sure he would love it. He’s never been in one before,” Agnes said.
“That’s settled then. As soon as luncheon is over we shall set off. Will you come too, Ed?” Beryl asked. Edwina dearly wished to give an excuse to stay home but she couldn’t swallow her own bite of egg fast enough to object before Beryl had decided she had agreed. Besides, she too was curious about the route. The missing ledgers still bothered her a great deal. Each time she thought of them, the back of her head ached ever so slightly.
“Absolutely.”
* * *
They were packed tightly into the motorcar in less than an hour. Beryl headed off at something she called full throttle for the Wallingford Estate and squealed to a stop just in front of the dairy barn as Agnes had instructed. Edwina clung to the notebook and pencil she had brought along to make a record of the route as Agnes remembered it.
“I started out just there with old Joe and followed the cart track at the back of the barn to the north side of the estate. It’s just up along there.” Agnes pointed to a hard-packed dirt lane. Edwina did her best to keep her notes legible as the motorcar jounced and bounced along the rutted path. They followed along for a moment or two before Agnes pointed out the first stop. “It certainly is faster in this than it was with old Joe and the milk float. I would have been done in half the time with a contraption like this one,” Agnes said. She indicated a few more stops before Benjy started to fuss and reach towards the outside.
“Perhaps we should pull over for a moment. There’s plenty of time and Benjy might like to stretch his legs for a bit,” Edwina suggested. In fact, she quite agreed with Benjy and if she had been his age thought to herself that she would have been crying, too. “Look, there’s a nice grassy spot for the baby to run around for a bit.”<
br />
Beryl acquiesced immediately and Edwina had a sneaking suspicion the baby being in the car unnerved her. From the way she hurried out of the motorcar herself Edwina suspected that she had become quite frazzled by the presence of the small boy. Color returned to Beryl’s cheeks the moment she took a step away. Edwina found it extraordinary that after all her outrageous exploits, the one thing in the world her friend seemed terrified of was a child.
“You know,” Agnes said, “I believe this is quite near one of the spots I had to pull over the last time I was on this road. You were the cause of that stop too, Benjy.” Agnes lifted the child above her head and spun him around in the air. In the distance Michael Blackburn’s cab was drawing closer. Within a moment it overtook them. Edwina noticed Dr. Nelson in the back. She waved at him as he passed but he didn’t wave back. Rather, he stared at the group of them with a stony face. Edwina wondered if he was on his way to deliver some bad news to a patient. Or had come back from doing so. Really, he did not look like himself in the least.
Benjy was content to be returned to the motorcar not long after and within a few minutes more Agnes had directed them to turn onto the lane that ran to the east of the Wallingford Estate. Edwina tried to remember what she had recorded in the ledger about the delivery routes but everything seemed a bit fuzzy. It was the head injury she hoped that did it, rather than advancing age.
“That’s where I was when the matron appeared.” Agnes pointed at a cottage with a thicket of bare wisteria vines clinging to a trellis at its gate.
“Hortense came upon you at Walter Bennett’s cottage?”
“I don’t know any Walter Bennett but I do remember the cottage with the cheerful blue door. That’s the very one.” Beryl pulled the motorcar to the verge again and stopped.
“Where was she coming from when she came upon you?” Beryl asked.
“I don’t know really. I didn’t see her approaching since I was too wrapped up in my own misery at the time. She just appeared and started scolding me.”
Beryl and Edwina looked at each other then up and down the narrow road. There was nothing particularly interesting to see. Edwina did not think the missing ledgers could very well be explained by anything in their line of sight.
Murder in an English Village Page 24