Death of an Avid Reader

by Frances Brody

  It left me cold and too scared to close my eyes again. I swung out of bed.

  Drawing back the curtains revealed the most glorious dawn, orange and blue and gold. The trees in Batswing Wood were not yet bare. Among the gold, yellow and brown, a few green leaves refused to die. It takes such a long time for the leaves to turn, and to fall. If I do not look every day, it can happen suddenly, and catch me out. Occasionally, there will be a fierce wind in the night and in the morning all is changed.

  As soon as I had washed and dressed, not an easy business with a sprained wrist, I went into the dining room as quietly as possible, so as not to wake the monkey.

  While pretending to find each animal a terrible nuisance and the pair of them a double nuisance, Mrs Sugden has given each of them a bed. The cat has a pair of old curtains in a corner by the kitchen dresser. The dining room, which doubles as my study, is now the monkey’s quarters. My typewriter sits on the sideboard. In its place on top of the filing cabinet is a plywood orange box, acquired from the greengrocer. This holds a feather pillow as mattress and a blanket artistically knitted with a diamond design from scraps of brown and green wool.

  Percy opened an eye, looked at me, and went back to sleep.

  I reached for a pad of paper and pencil and began to jot down what Marian and Peter had each told me the evening before.

  After about half an hour, Mrs Sugden appeared, still in her dressing gown. ‘What are you doing up this early?’

  ‘Just in time, Mrs Sugden. I’d like you to type something.’

  She stood up straight, pulling her shoulders back, trying not to smile. ‘I’ll have to put kettle on first.’ Mrs Sugden loves to type, having mastered the qwerty keyboard at night school. ‘And I’ll boil you an egg.’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘Aye well you didn’t eat last night and you’ll likely end up chasing shadows through a long day so I’ll do an egg.’

  This was her olive branch regarding the gun. Normally she would have presented me with a bowl of lumpy porridge.

  Percy followed her. When Mrs Sugden first accidentally let him into the back garden, with Sookie, I thought we would not see him again. But he explored a little, wearing his woolly of course, came back and pushed his way in.

  Whenever he comes back, Mrs Sugden says, ‘Couldn’t you have lost yerself in’t jungle? Do you have to come plaguing me?’ Or she will open the door and shout, ‘Percy! Have yer swung yer way back to Mexico?’ which is her way of calling him in.

  After I had eaten the compulsory egg, Mrs Sugden set up the typewriter, double checking that she had the carbon paper the correct way round.

  ‘Fire away. I’m ready.’

  Looking at my notes, trying as far as possible to use Marian’s way of speaking, I dictated her statement. Mrs Sugden typed carefully, occasionally cursing a typing error and insisting on erasing and back-spacing to retype. She made no comments until both statements were finished.

  ‘These two could write a book.’

  ‘She could, and he could illustrate, being an artist. Do you know, I might mention that to them as a way of earning a living.’

  ‘There are worse ways,’ she said pointedly. ‘Were you serious about wanting my pistol?’

  I thought for a moment; Dr Potter strangled; Lennox battered to death; Marian in fear for her life; my close encounter with Castle in the basement.

  ‘I’ll take the gun, just in case.’

  What puzzled me was that I had not yet heard from my father. It worried me to think what I might have set in train by asking Sykes to tell him about the events of the last few days.

  I was putting on my coat when Sykes came to the door. ‘Before you ask, I didn’t go to Wakefield. I set off to tell your father, as you’d said, but I thought better of it before I’d gone a mile and a half.’

  ‘Well I’m relieved. It wasn’t one of my better ideas.’

  ‘So what now?’

  ‘You could give me a lift into town. Mrs Carmichael, the deputy librarian, has offered to help us find Sophia Wells. She’ll use her contacts in other libraries, make some enquiries.’

  Sykes looked at his watch. ‘Library won’t be open yet.’

  ‘I know. That’s not my first port of call.’

  * * *

  Peter Donohue, carrying a small parcel, crossed the road from the market as Sykes parked the car. I followed him into the courtyard.

  ‘Peter!’

  He turned and waited until I caught up with him. ‘What are you doing here? You’ll be moving in next.’

  ‘I’ve brought notes from my own bank, to exchange for the ones Castle gave you. I hope they’ll be traceable to his bank. And I have a suggestion, an idea.’

  We walked up the stone steps. ‘Mam’s out. She’s filling in for a cleaner who’s badly.’ At the door, he called, ‘It’s me!’

  ‘Hang on a minute.’ The bolt shot back.

  ‘Morning, Marian.’ I stepped inside. There was a book about Australia open on the table.

  Peter said, ‘I brought you some tripe, Marian. I’m off back over to market shortly, bit of unloading.’ There was just one chair and a stool. Peter perched on the corner of the table. ‘Mrs Shackleton wants me to swap that money Castle give me, but my fingerprints will be on it.’

  ‘Do the police have your fingerprints?’ I asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then don’t worry.’

  We exchanged bank notes. I put his in an envelope.

  Marian watched, saying nothing as I tucked the envelope in the side compartment of my satchel. ‘There’s something else.’

  ‘I thought there might be,’ Marian said.

  ‘I typed up what you told me.’ I took the statements from my bag and put them on the table.

  Peter rolled a cigarette, looking down at the typed pages. ‘You said in confidence.’

  Marian drew a sheet towards her. ‘You did that, with one hand?’

  ‘I was up early.’ I waited until she had finished reading. ‘It’s the gist of what you told me. I’m hoping you’ll agree to sign, so that we can have Castle put where he belongs.’

  She ran her fingers through her shorn hair. ‘His word against ours?’

  ‘Somewhere, he has your hair, your locket, your ring. There’s a Guy Fawkes buried in the basement. This won’t be his only crime. Other things will come to light.’

  Peter shook his head. ‘Oh no. You don’t catch me out like that. I’m not putting my name to owt. You said you’d keep me out of it. I don’t trust coppers.’

  Marian backed him up. ‘Why should Peter put himself in harm’s way? Lennox and Castle have the world behind them. We have no one but you, and you promised.’

  ‘The police won’t be interested in misdemeanours from the past, Peter. If you read it, you’ll see I’ve chosen words carefully, knowing what to leave out, but including how Castle homed in on you from childhood.’

  ‘He did. I never thought of it like that. He picked me out for his own purpose.’

  ‘I can arrange for you both to stay somewhere out of harm’s way, until the baby is born. My sister would take you in, or I have the use of a house in Robin Hood’s Bay.’

  Peter shook his head. ‘Nothing doing.’

  ‘What about you, Marian?’

  ‘Yes I will, but that’s different. You’re asking Peter to take a big risk.’

  I handed Marian a pen. She hesitated. ‘And if they want me to go in and verify what I have said, someone will follow me back here and arrest Peter.’

  ‘I will give it to the police only if I’m sure you’ll both be safe.’

  Marian’s hand hovered above the page.

  Peter said, ‘Oh just do it.’

  We watched her sign. ‘I’d like to see their faces when Castle and Lennox find out I’m alive.’

  Peter reached for his own statement and glanced at it. ‘Marian’s signed and so will I. I’ll take my chance. You and Mam will be safe, Marian. That’s what matters.’

&nb
sp; ‘Thank you.’ I spoke quietly, hiding my sudden misgivings. ‘I’ll stand by you. You can rely on that.’

  ‘Where are you going now?’ Marian asked.

  ‘The library. I’m hoping to have some help tracing the person I’m really looking for.’

  ‘Is she coming into money?’

  ‘Possibly.’

  ‘Then I wish it were me.’

  * * *

  Mrs Carmichael sat in Mr Lennox’s chair. ‘It’s unusual for him to be late, but I’ve taken advantage and made some telephone calls for you. I’ve already tried Leeds and you were right. No Miss Wells in any of the Leeds libraries, and not in York or Wakefield either.’

  It felt strange, sitting opposite her, knowing that none of us would ever see Lennox again.

  She consulted her address book and then looked up. ‘You must have awful aches and pains after yesterday. You look a bit peaky.’

  ‘I’ll survive, didn’t sleep very well, that’s all.’

  She gave the operator the number of Harrogate Library. After a moment, she put on her telephone voice. ‘Hello. Mrs Carmichael here of the Leeds Library. I wonder if you might help me.’ After a moment she continued, ‘We have a post available for a counter assistant and there was a young woman on our shortlist from a while ago whom I should like to contact but someone said she has found a post, perhaps in one of the Harrogate libraries. If so, I could cross her off our list. I wonder whether you might confirm that? Her name is Miss Sophia Mary Ann Wells.’ Another pause. ‘Thank you.’ She put her hand over the mouthpiece. ‘If she’s in Yorkshire, I’ll find her for you.’ She spoke again into the telephone. ‘Then I wait to hear. Goodbye.’

  ‘They’ll telephone back to you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  I waited and listened while she made calls to Bradford and Keighley, sounding cheerful and efficient. It would not be long before she heard the terrible news about Lennox.

  She closed her address book. ‘That is four I am waiting to hear from. I won’t telephone to more until they give word.’ There was a tap on the door. ‘Enter!’ She smiled at me. ‘I could become used to this seat.’

  Inspector Wallis stepped into the room, looking from Mrs Carmichael to me.

  She put the address book in the drawer. ‘I’m sorry. Mr Lennox is not here yet. It’s unlike him to be late.’

  ‘May I sit down?’

  ‘Yes, of course, Inspector.’

  ‘I have some bad news I’m afraid. Mrs Shackleton may as well stay to hear it.’ He paused. ‘I’m sorry to tell you that Mr Lennox was found dead at his flat last night.’

  Mrs Carmichael stared at the inspector. ‘How? I mean, what happened?’

  ‘The death is being treated as suspicious.’

  ‘You don’t mean he…’

  ‘He did not take his own life.’

  Mrs Carmichael fumbled up her sleeve for a handkerchief. ‘I don’t understand. How is it suspicious if … Oh, oh.’

  ‘I have a sergeant and a constable downstairs interviewing staff and readers. We have not yet told them why, but I am asking people to account for their movements between six o’clock and nine o’clock yesterday evening.’

  She blinked, and blinked again, as if expecting tears that did not come. ‘I was at home all evening. I caught the tram as usual, just after six. Had my tea, prepared by my landlady, and then stayed in my room.’

  ‘Your landlady would confirm that?’

  ‘Yes, and Mrs Shackleton came to see me at about half past eight?’

  She looked at me.

  ‘That’s right. I was also at home at about six, and then met someone and went to the Palace public house between seven and eight, and then home for my car and across to see Mrs Carmichael.’

  ‘What was the purpose of your visit to Mrs Carmichael?’

  ‘Mrs Carmichael is helping me trace Sophia Mary Ann Wells who I believe works in a library.’

  He looked at her.

  She nodded. ‘I have been making telephone calls for Mrs Shackleton.’

  ‘I see.’ The inspector looked from her to me. He seemed to be considering whether to ask me to leave. He did not.

  ‘Mrs Carmichael, yesterday at your meeting, I noticed that Mr Lennox’s demeanour was much changed. Can you explain why that was?’

  ‘He was fond of Dr Potter. It knocked the stuffing out of him that Dr Potter died.’ She twisted her handkerchief. ‘There was another reason. He developed an attachment to one of our assistants, Miss Montague. I regret to say that we wrongly dismissed her, suspecting her of theft. I dare say it was my fault for not believing her denials.’

  Wallis said, ‘We have not managed to interview the young lady.’

  I could keep quiet no longer. ‘I have.’

  Inspector Wallis fought to keep control. ‘Mrs Shackleton, this is not a game. What do you have to tell me?’

  They both looked at me.

  ‘She is in hiding.’ Somewhat awkwardly, due to my painful wrist, I reached for my satchel. ‘There’s a drawing I would like you to see.’

  ‘Let me help.’ Mrs Carmichael took my satchel, extracted Peter’s drawing, and stared. ‘It’s Mr Castle to the life.’

  She handed it to Wallis.

  He looked at it, and at me.

  ‘Castle paid to have Marian Montague murdered and buried in the basement.’

  ‘That is a very serious allegation, Mrs Shackleton.’

  ‘Yes, and before you think it, I am not being vindictive because he attacked me.’ I spoke quickly, before the inspector had time to interrupt. ‘It is my belief that Mr Lennox knew nothing about Marian’s supposed death until yesterday, just before the meeting. That is why he was so distraught, and why he changed his mind about removing from these premises.’

  All colour had drained from Mrs Carmichael’s face. Her breath came in short bursts. For a moment, I thought she would have a heart attack. I went to calm her, encouraging her to slow her breathing. When she recovered a little, she was about to say something, but Wallis spoke first.

  ‘There is a sketch next to the portrait.’

  ‘Yes. X marks the spot where her body was to be buried. Mr Castle chalked the paving stone with a cross. I noticed yesterday that it had been swept, probably to remove the chalk.’

  Wallis looked as though he might explode. ‘How long have you known this?’

  Now was not the time to be precise. I hedged. ‘This morning, I took signed statements from Miss Montague and the young man paid one hundred pounds to do the deed. Some of the notes he was given in payment are in an envelope in my satchel. I thought it best to have them in case they were drawn on Mr Castle’s bank.’

  I looked at Mrs Carmichael. She obligingly took the envelope from my satchel and handed it to the inspector.

  ‘And you’ve been sitting on this information while calmly contacting branch libraries about whether they employ Sophia Wells?’

  When he put it like that, my approach did seem somewhat skewed, yet it would be impolitic to say that I did not trust him.

  Mrs Carmichael probably thought she was being helpful. ‘I telephoned only library headquarters and main libraries.’

  ‘Where is Miss Montague?’

  The door was suddenly flung open. Marian entered, hatless, her coat open displaying her interesting condition. ‘Here I am.’

  Mrs Carmichael stared. The inspector and I had to turn in our seats. He stood up immediately.

  Marian struck a pose like an avenging angel. ‘Why should I hide? I’m safest in full view.’ She strode into the room, running her hands through her cropped hair. ‘Where is he? Where is Sam Lennox? Where is his friend the murderer? I demand the return of my hair. It should fetch a bob or two and I need the money.’

  I stood. ‘Marian, this is Inspector Wallis. He has brought us some bad news about Sam Lennox.’

  She did not resist when the inspector guided her to his chair.

  It was Mrs Carmichael who said in a flat voice, ‘Sam is dead. Murdered.’<
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  Marian closed her eyes. She put her hands on her belly as if to cover the baby’s ears.

  I went to her side. ‘If it’s any consolation, I’m sure Sam Lennox had nothing to do with Castle’s plan.’

  ‘Of course not,’ Mrs Carmichael snapped. ‘He wouldn’t have had the guts.’

  Inspector Wallis walked to the door. ‘I’ll speak to my constable. I have asked Mr Castle to join us. You ladies won’t want to see him.’

  Marian let out a harsh laugh. ‘That is where you are wrong, Inspector. I want to thank him. He has helped me shape my future, and my fiancé’s. We’re to be married next week.’

  My bruised cheek suddenly throbbed. My leg went into cramp. It was as if my body parts were reminding me why I wanted to see Castle charged with assault as well as murder. ‘I’ll stay.’

  Mrs Carmichael did not budge. ‘I will stay, Inspector, if it’s all the same to you. I may be able to contribute some rather particular knowledge.’

  There was a tap on the door. A constable put his head round. ‘Mr Castle is here, sir.’

  Wallis looked around the room. He went to the window and moved the curtain. ‘Behind there, Miss Montague, can you manage to stay silent?’

  ‘Probably not.’

  ‘Try!’ Inspector Wallis turned to the constable. ‘Show him up.’

  Castle must already have been on his way up. It was less than a minute before the constable showed him in. ‘Hello,’ he said cheerfully. ‘More investigations?’

  The inspector had remained standing. ‘Yes. Please take a seat, Mr Castle.’

  Castle sat in the chair opposite Mrs Carmichael. ‘Where’s Mr Lennox? Are you keeping his chair warm?’

  Mrs Carmichael did not answer. She was breathing rather noisily. I feared she may begin to panic. It took a lot of effort for me to stay calm myself when, nice as pie, Castle said, ‘How are we today, Mrs Shackleton?’

  The truthful answer would have been that I was in the mood to pick up my chair and bring it down on his head. ‘I am on the mend.’