Murder on Exmoor

by P. J. Thurbin

  “Long ways t’ come. Just for the day.”

  “We’re just having a wander around while Ralph’s having his car worked on at that garage at the top of the road,” Katie explained.

  “Tha’ Joe Minton.” She practically spat out the name.

  Ralph wondered what sin Joe had committed to deserve such a comment. He had a feeling she would enlighten them about it before the conversation was over.

  “He seems to know about cars,” Katie offered.

  “He’s good at cars all right, but nuthin’ else,” Megan replied.

  Suddenly Megan started to cry.

  “I know he had somethin’ to do with Seth’s accident. I just know it.”

  She told them how Seth had said that he knew something about Joe and about the 500 pounds she had gone to the garage to collect.

  “Seth said he knew all about how Joe and that Bruce Ansell had cheated the government.” She tried to regain her composure by pretending to arrange an apple on an eye-catching display.

  “Why did he give you that money?” Asked Katie. “Not that it’s any of our business, but you should tell someone, if it’s worrying you.”

  “Seth said he told that Joe Minton if he didn’t pay, he’d tell the police about them cheatin’ the government; somethin’ to do with that treasure he and that friend a his found over at Sherracombe. Seth knew all about it. He was a member of that club a Mary Richardson’s; Arcology he called it.”

  “Have you told anyone else?” Katie asked.

  “I talked to Wendy, she helps me out here sometimes, and she said I ‘ad no proof. She told me that if I said anythin’ it’d be libel and I could be fined or somethin’. An’ besides, I give Seth the money; weren’t no receipt or nuthin’.”

  “Like I said, it’s none of our business, but you really should talk to the police,” said Katie as Megan packed what they had bought into a large brown bag and thanked them for stopping in.

  After they left the market, Ralph and Katie stopped in at a little café for a coffee. When their server finally broke away from a couple who were dithering about something or other, she came to take their order of coffee and teacakes. All the time Katie and Megan had been talking, Ralph had been thinking about all of the events that had occurred in the sleepy little area over the last few weeks. He had started to put things together in his mind.

  “Okay, Ralph, what’s going on in there,” Katie said and pointed at the top of his head. “I can practically hear those cogs whirring.”

  “It’s just what Megan told you about Joe Minton. I had a hunch that something wasn’t quite kosher about the hoard he and that friend of his found up at Sherracombe. When Megan started talking about him paying her brother off, it all began to fall into place.”

  “So you think Seth knew something, and Minton was prepared to pay him to keep quiet,” said Katie.

  “It sounds that way. He must have somehow found out that they hadn’t handed in the entire find. Remember? I told you that Doctor Franks hinted at the same thing when Cynthia and I went over to talk to him at the British Museum when you were at that conference in Edinburgh.”

  “And then Seth gets killed by a hit and run driver; it does sound like a bit of a coincidence,” Katie observed.

  “For my money, that was no accident. I think Joe decided to silence Seth one way or another. The papers said the hit and run was on the road that goes past The Bell pub at Brayford. Bob and I were there when Fred Bishop handed over that packet of drugs. I’ve still got the bruises from that little skirmish with that gang of hoodlums.”

  “Was Joe there that night as well?”

  “No; at least if he was I didn’t see him, but of course I wasn’t looking for him, either. Bob and I were looking out for someone pushing drugs.”

  “You can’t prove any of this, Ralph. It’s all conjecture apart from what Megan told us about Minton giving her some money, and he’d just deny that.”

  “Yes, that’s true, but if the police asked around, someone may have seen him in The Bell the night Seth was killed,” said Ralph. “I suspect that Joe and his pal have hidden their spoils away until the dust settles a bit before they try to shift it on to the gold market or fence it in some way. It’s easily done nowadays.”

  “So what do we do now? What about Minton’s friend who found the treasure with him? I wonder if he’d be prepared to talk? Or do you think he’s in on it as well?”

  “Minton said that he went back to Australia. No; I think it’s all about our man Joe. I wonder what he’d say if I just confront him with what Megan told us about the money. The element of surprise might catch him off guard.”

  “Look Ralph, if this Minton character really did have something to do with Seth Raine’s death, he could be dangerous. Why don’t you just give that Inspector over at Barnstaple a call and let him take it from there. We’re on holiday and it’s a nice summer day. And you’ve already been warned off for interfering in one murder enquiry.”

  “But Fred Bishop’s been arrested and James Bradley’s a free man,” said Ralph. “And none of that would have happened without our help.”

  “You were just lucky that those hooligans didn’t kill you; you said that Fred Bishop had a shotgun. Ralph, you’ve got to speak to that Inspector. You know you would if it was your friend Inspector Linham we were talking about.”

  “You’re right. I’ll give Inspector Fletcher a calI right after we pick up the car, but it’ll be a bit awkward talking to Minton after what we’ve said about him.”

  “Let’s just get your car and go back to the cottage,” Katie said. Why don’t you do that while I go and buy a few postcards. I might even find a few of those old risqué ones with the fat ladies on the beach with their tiny husbands.”

  Ralph paid for their coffees and dodged the low slung bell over the door of the café as they left.

  “I’ll meet you down at the church, Ralph. I noticed some parking places by that low wall. And don’t do anything silly; remember, you promised to leave it to Inspector Fletcher.” She waved as Ralph walked back up the hill to the garage.

  ***

  Ralph was surprised to see his car parked on the garage forecourt. He looked inside and there was a note on the driver’s seat saying:

  Cleaned out dirt in brake drums. No charge.

  He saw that the key was in the ignition. Even in a quiet place like Lynton that presented an open invitation for an opportunist thief or a casual joy rider to steal the car, he muttered. He toyed with the thought of just driving away and simply calling the Inspector as Katie had advised. But he was annoyed that Joe had literally abandoned his car in the street. Looking around, he saw a ‘CLOSED’ sign on the garage door, but Ralph wasn’t happy to just drive off without saying anything; and he still had what Megan had said about Joe Minton in his mind. That was his first mistake; the second was when he opened the side door to the garage.

  _____________________

  Chapter 11

  Ralph stepped carefully over the threshold. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the comparative gloom of the garage after the bright sunlight outside in the street. Inside it was as silent as a church, and apart from the cloying smell of oil and gasoline that replaced the aroma of spent incense, it seemed as safe. He saw Minton standing next to a table. Behind him, Ralph could see that the door to a large old fashioned safe hung open. The table was covered in silver objects. Ralph stumbled as he bumped into a car door that was obviously waiting to be re-fitted. Cardboard boxes of various sizes were strewn across the floor and it looked as though Minton was searching for one large enough to accommodate the platter. He was so engrossed in what he was doing that Ralph had taken two or three steps before he was discovered.

  Joe looked up and dropped what appeared to be a large oval serving platter of the type that the waiters had used in the dining hall at his college at Cambridge.

  “What the hell. You can’t come in ‘ere,” he shouted. “We’re closed,” he said as he pulled a clo
th over the pieces on the table as he tried to kick the safe door shut.

  “You left my car out on the street,” Ralph said accusingly. As he heard the words he realised how stupid he sounded.

  Joe half turned. “Sorry, mate, but I was keepin’ an eye on it. I saw you comin’ up the street. Anyhow, I fixed it so it don’t make that scraping sound no more; bit of dirt got in the brake drum. No charge.”

  Ralph watched as Joe tried to pull the cloth further over what was on the table. He also seemed agitated, almost desperate was the word that Ralph remembered thinking at the time.

  “That’s part of that hoard from Sherracombe,” Ralph said. “You were meant to turn everything in, you know.”

  “What? No, just some old hubcaps. I got them re-plated. It’s the chrome. They did a good job for once.” He gave a laugh but it carried no conviction. His attempt to lie was not a good one.

  The two men stood and faced each other for what seemed like ages, but was probably no more than a few moments. Ralph could plainly see that those were not hubcaps on the table. The platters were almost identical to the ones Doctor Franks had shown him at the British Museum. Ralph faced a dilemma. Should he confront Joe about Seth’s death or the stolen treasure? Now that he saw the silver platters and glimpsed the other pieces in the safe, it confirmed his suspicions that Minton and his pal had deliberately held back a large amount of what was Crown property. Ralph realised that Seth’s death was the key. Minton might wriggle out of the fraud charge with just a rap on the knuckles, but it would not be so easy to explain away Seth’s murder, and Ralph had no doubt now that Joe had killed the old man, plain and simple.

  Ralph made his move.

  “I know those platters on the table are from Sherracombe. You must think I’m some sort of damn fool if you expect me to believe they’re hubcaps,” Ralph said quietly.

  He deliberately leant against the wall and took up a nonchalant stance and chuckled. Just as he had hoped, Minton appeared confused. Ralph waited patiently as he watched Joe try furiously to figure a way out.

  “I can see you’re a man of the world, Mr Chalmers. I knew you were alright.” He gave an unconvincing laugh. “Got to look after yourself ‘aven’t you. Tax man gets enough from the working man.” He grinned as he pulled back the cloth. Ralph almost gasped as he surveyed the hoard. A box filled with gold coins spilled out onto the table and mingled with silver plates, long handled spoons and smaller bowls.

  “More in the safe,” Minton said gesturing over to the side. “I ‘spect we need to come to some sort of gentleman’s agreement, Mr. Chalmers. I ‘spect I can fix you up with one or two pretty nice motors if you can pretend you didn’ see none a this and keep quiet like; nice little windfall for you. I do all the work an’ you get that Rolls or a Maserati or whatever you want; an’ more if the gold and silver prices stay up. Might take a week or two, but you can rely on Joe Minton to make it right by you.”

  “And what if I decide your offer’s not enough?” Ralph asked.

  “I’d see you right,” Joe said as a fleeting look of fear crossed his face.

  “I don’t think so, Joe. That’s what you told old Seth Raines, and look where it got him; six feet under. No I’m not falling for your tricks.”

  “No, no tricks, Mr Chalmers,” Joe said in his most placating voice.

  He had congratulated himself on having wriggled out of a difficult situation and outsmarting someone who he reckoned was upper class. This Chalmers with all his fancy talk and smart clothes was no better than Seth Raines. He had no intentions of going to prison for that little blackmailer’s death and now this fancy London type had all but ruined his scheme. He had no choice but to get rid of Chalmers, and fast. The last thing he needed was for that damn wife of his to come walking in. Then he’d have to get rid of both of them. A red mist swam before his eyes as he thought of his friend Bruce, and how everything seemed to be slipping through his fingers. If only this bloody man had not turned up.

  Ralph could practically see what Joe was thinking and was ready when Joe picked up a spanner and threw it at him. It bounced off his arm and clattered to the floor. Joe was quicker than Ralph had anticipated. Before he recovered enough to duck, Joe grabbed a fire extinguisher. Ralph’s first thought was to shield his eyes from the toxic foam, but he felt the blow as it struck him and he crashed to the floor. What seemed like minutes later he came to and rolled over. He instinctively touched his head and felt where the blood had started to mat his hair. He looked around; Joe had fled. The safe still brimmed with shinny objects, but the table was bare. He pulled himself up as he heard an engine start. As he stumbled through the door, he saw a truck career down the busy street; Joe was making a run for it.

  Ralph ran outside to his car and saw that the keys were missing. The bugger must have thrown them on the back seat or something, he cursed. But there was no time to waste looking for them. He set off running down the street. The adrenaline had taken over. Up ahead he saw that a single decker yellow and blue bus making its way up the High Street had stopped where Joe’s truck had blocked the road. Ralph glimpsed Joe with an army style rucksack over his shoulder running towards the cliff railway. Ralph pushed people out of the way as he ran down the road. Drivers shouted at him and several pedestrians tried to grab him, but he evaded them. He saw the entrance gate to the cliff railway up ahead and realised that Joe would get away unless he could get there before it left. When Joe turned to see if anyone had pursued him, Ralph saw that he held a revolver in his hand.

  The first shot hit Ralph and the force spun him round. People screamed, and as Ralph clutched his shoulder and looked up, he saw Joe take aim. He had two hands on the revolver now and slowly levelled it. Just then a young mother ran between them to grab her child. Ralph heard Joe curse as he lowered the gun and sprinted towards the now closed gates to the cliff railway. The driver must have been pre-occupied with making sure that his passengers were safely seated, unaware of the commotion unfolding further along the pathway. The bell clanged, and as the train moved off, Ralph saw Joe jump; he was too late. People screamed as they saw his body bump and cartwheel as it hit the track and slithered down the steep slope. Ralph stopped and looked on in horror. He was still trying to regain his breath when Katie ran up.

  “Ralph. Are you all right? There’s blood all over your shirt.” She tried to staunch the flow as a crowd gathered around.

  “That bloke was chasing ‘im when he fell over the top.” There were murmurs from the crowd. Everyone seemed intent on having their say.

  “Look ‘e’s cut ‘is ‘ead.”

  “Someone get the police.”

  “Is the bloke ‘e was chasin’ injured? ‘e don’t look good.”

  “Nor would you if you fell all that bloomin’ way,” said an old man who was leaning over the fencing and peering down at Joe Minton’s broken body.

  One or two onlookers gave a nervous laugh.

  A police car pulled up. While one constable pushed his way through the crowd, the other reversed and drove off down the road towards Lynmouth Harbour where Joe Minton’s battered and twisted body lay.

  “The bloke what wen’ over dropped ‘is rucksack; bloomin ‘eavey,” one of the bystanders raised the rucksack and groaned.

  “Someone said there was a shot fired,” said the young constable as he looked at Ralph.

  “The man who had the rucksack, constable he ---. The pain from his shoulder kicked in as the adrenaline that had kept him going began to subside. Ralph steadied himself against Katie. The last thing he remembered saying was: “The gold and silver are in the rucksack. More back at the ---.”

  The police constable caught him as Ralph collapsed onto the pavement.

  ***

  “You’re in the North Devon District Hospital, Professor Chalmers.” The young nurse put a chart back at the end of his bed. “You’ll be right as rain in a couple of days; just a nasty cut.”

  “My shoulder?”

  “Just a flesh wound, sir. You were
lucky. The doctor said it went straight through. It needed a few stitches.” She gave him one of those professional smiles of reassurance.

  It’s my blasted shoulder and it stings like hell, he wanted to say. He was sure that she could read his mind even though he only said “Thanks,” and gave a half smile.

  “Lie still, sir. We don’t want it to start bleeding again. I’ll get your wife.”

  She peered out into the corridor and beckoned to Katie that she could come in.

  “Only 5 minutes, Mrs Chalmers. Your husband may have a bit of a concussion as well as the shoulder wound. We want to be sure.”

  “Don’t forget to get the car,” said Ralph. It was the first thing that came to mind.

  “I drove it here, Ralph. A man found the keys at the edge of the pavement. They brought you here in the ambulance. Just rest now so you can get better.”

  He drifted off to sleep and dreamt of Megan filling bags with vegetables, Fred Bishop firing his shotgun at Bob Wyman, and Mary Richardson bowling in a cricket match as a fleet of quad bikes were roaring around the garden at the cottage in Clovelly.

  ______________________

  Chapter 12

  Detective Inspector Fletcher was satisfied. He had almost completed his report on Case 313 Sherracombe Ford. There had been a message the previous day from Professor Chalmers asking if it would be convenient to come in and speak with him. He had told the duty officer to arrange the appointment for 11 that morning. It was only ten o’clock now, and he had asked Sergeant Jones to help him tidy up a few loose ends in the case. He wanted Jones to sit in on the meeting so that he could demonstrate how to deal with a civilian who had some standing with the Senior Constabulary. His credo was that an officer must be both tactful and firm.

  “So that’s just about it, Jones,” Inspector Fletcher said as the Sergeant made a few last minutes notes on the computer. “Quite a busy couple of months, but you can be proud of your team over at South Molton, they’ve done some first rate police work. I expect the Chief Superintendent will be down to show his appreciation.”