Lost Lad

by Annable, Narvel

  In spite of himself, Simeon admired the way Gary could handle 'a situation'. It had happened so many times before: the skilful pricking at the bubble of pomposity. Gary Mackenzie had exactly the same knack as Brian Forrester, an ability to cool the heat of indignation by getting Simeon to see the funny side, to turn it around so he could laugh at himself. The schoolmaster could not deny the truth of these assertions. If unable to smile, he could hold up his head and say with measured precision -

  "At least I didn't boast to those girls and revile them with my sexual gymnastics. And I'm certain that Kelly, even in her short salacious life, has turned more tricks than I have, and - while we're on the subject of honesty, Gary Mackenzie, I'm certain that you've probably had more than both of us put together!"

  "Touché!" concluded Gary.

  They separated. They had about a half hour to spare before it was time to leave for Derby so Gary decided to explore the other rows, the church and other interesting aspects of Horsley Woodhouse. Back in Aunty Joyce's back bedroom, Simeon's mobile rang with its familiar trill. A voice announced itself as John Winter, one time Detective Sergeant and former assistant to Detective Inspector Derek Russell.

  "Many many thanks for your help in putting together that splendid document, Mr Winter."

  "Call me John. It was an interesting challenge. We were quite taken up in it. Old men like us need a bit of stimulation now and again. I've just turned 81 and Derek will be 88 next month. Incredible bloke: he can still walk the legs off your average teenager and here's me looking more and more like Humpty Dumpty every day!"

  "Now that's another sort of challenge; keeping trim after a busy stressful job," replied Simeon.

  "Derek tells me you're still cycling, so you'll be OK. Now about the Forrester Mystery, Simeon. In Derek's letter, my contribution was to jog his memory and mainly stick to the facts. I know he penned a few suspicions, but if it's of any help, I can share with you some personal ideas, ideas I wouldn't like to put in writing - if you know what I mean."

  Simeon lay down on the bed and made himself comfortable.

  "I'd be most grateful, John. I'm all ears."

  "You know, of course, that we focused on that rich bloke, Algernon Hardman. Derek wasn't so sure, but I was keen - at first. I felt he was the type: a sort of recluse who'd taken refuge in a world of books. His life had just been devastated with the accident: a sudden loss, a shock which might have released the passion he'd been concealing. I was a young copper with lots of prejudices in those days."

  "I'll bet!" thought Simeon. He also wondered if Winter or Russell had speculated about his own personal circumstances and if that might have coloured the information recently tendered. But no: these were unhealthy thoughts. As Gary would tell him, he must rise above these silly sensitivities. Detective Inspector Derek Russell and Detective Sergeant John Winter did not have to help him at all. It was kind of them to take the time and trouble. He was genuinely appreciative.

  "Has the passage of time moderated your suspicions, John?"

  "The passage of time has been very educating. Take the odd bods, the servants and the old man in Derby. I knew Simon Tonks when he worked for the Calder sisters at Belper. A nancy boy of the first order, but a nice one: church on Sunday and all that. No: not Simon, he wouldn't hurt a fly. Can't keep his hands off the men, but not a danger to boys."

  "Little fat Dolly?" ventured Simeon. John Winter laughed.

  "The dolly tub! No. It looked probable at the time, but again - too nice. Funny little bloke, quite enterprising and very entertaining. Just a hunch, but I'd strike them off as suspects. They're still there you know at Cressbrook Hall. Amazing isn't it. But a hunch is all I have. Not a scrap of evidence in all these years.

  "The bicycle found at Belper?" added Simeon. John Winter responded with a bigger laugh.

  "Oh! It brings it all back. What a horror! A revolting creature! I can still see those leering eyes undressing me. No. It was planted. I don't know who planted it, but I'm sure it was planted. Good move. Jasper was just the sort who would be a prime suspect in 1960. Incredible little man! His 'massage' business went from strength to strength in the following years."

  "I imagine he must have been good," spoke Simeon in a dry, slightly cynical note.

  "He was very good with his 'extras'. Kept them hanging on for ages - if you know what I mean. One of our own became a regular visitor. Made a terrible stink down at the station when it all came out - I'll tell you! But nothing could be proved as far as youngsters were concerned. We looked into it a bit. His speciality seemed to be the rough type, road workers, labourers, that sort: perhaps a sprinkling of reps. Harmless type really. There was always a cup of tea and a nice piece of cake if you didn't rush off ... So they tell me."

  "Did Guzzly Granddad make a nice cup of tea?"

  "Do you know, those two blokes had a fair bit in common. Hated each other, but both had built up a clientele of casual callers. In Granddad's case there was a quicker turn over - well, it wouldn't take so long would it? You just walked in off the street ... so they tell me ... walked over to his chair, out came the old choppers ... well, I think the technical term is 'fellatio'. They joked at the station that it was all the semen which made him so gross: a vile man: sat there with his mouth open all day long. He was well named - a pig ignorant fat slob. Not exactly articulate, he just grunted at you."

  "But you don't think he had anything to do with Brian vanishing?

  "Again, no evidence. Over the following years, local boys were questioned as, and when they came to our attention. But not a sniff. Now Guzzly Granddad did like young boys and by all accounts these street urchins liked Guzzly Granddad. He was quite a legend in the back alleys of Derby."

  "So where does that leave us?"

  "It leaves us to consider 'opportunity' rather than 'motive'. Over the years we've had to re-think our perception of children after some appalling examples. Remember the Bulger case? I know we're speaking about your friends, Simeon, but in my experience many crimes are committed by the chap on the spot. Sometimes the decision to commit murder is taken in an instant of opportunity. They seize the moment. They take their chance."

  "Go on."

  "For some years now, I've focused on those minutes from the time that you five lads had arrived at the bottom of the hill, to the time when Scott and Rex went back to the top of the hill after their search. Brian Forrester had not made it to the bottom. Logically you all thought he'd fallen off his bike somewhere between the top and the bottom of the hill. Scott took charge and sent Danny Forrester to the waterfall in Water-cum-Jolly Dale to make sure that Brian had not overtaken you. What happened next, Simeon?"

  "Scott and Rex pedalled up both parts of the hill to look."

  "Exactly. I've pored over that statement dozens of times. Scott took the shorter, more steep route, where he assumed an accident was most likely to occur. Rex took the longer, more gradual gradient with the hairpin bends, which met the other road near the top. Between them they satisfied themselves that Brian was not on any part of that hill. They assumed that he'd gone down the driveway to Cressbrook Hall."

  "Where else could he have gone?"

  "He could be injured at the side of the road - as was most probable."

  "But they didn't see him!"

  "They said they didn't see him. It took about 20 minutes for both lads to reach the meeting place at the top of the hill. Scott was there first. That means that both lads were alone during those 20 minutes. Neither could corroborate the actions of the other. I don't think we will ever know what happened, or who was guilty - if indeed either Scott or Rex were guilty - but the opportunity was there."

  Simeon spoke his next words slowly and politely, but was unable to hold back a touch of derision -

  "Motive? Means? And while you're at it, John, have you any idea of what they did with the body?"

  "We underestimate kids. They can be very adept at disguising their true feelings. At the time, you felt it was a case of 'all pals h
appy together' - but are you so sure? You said it yourself - Brian Forrester was a joker, a teaser. He could have hit a raw nerve with either of 'the two leaders'. They were both proud, both powerful. Just suppose that Scott found Brian on the roadside, unconscious ... Well, you never know. He was strong. He could have throttled him, dragged his body quite a good way into the woods - by all accounts he was a weedy youth and there wasn't much of a body to drag. Our search really didn't get going properly until the next day. It would have been no problem for a youth as fast, strong and fit as Scott North to cycle back there in the middle of the night, drag the body even further away, drop it down a shaft (plenty to choose from) or bury it in soft earth. Animals would do the rest. We didn't search everywhere. Rex had the same opportunity. It was less likely, but just possible that they acted together. Then they knock at Dr Hardman's door and say 'Can we have our friend back please'."

  A sad sounding female voice meandered up the stairs -

  Gary's 'ere. Yal av ta go ta Derby now if ya goin' on t' wireless at ten o' clock."

  Chapter 27

  An Appeal on BBC Radio Derby

  In truth, neither Gary nor Simeon would confess to each other their low level of confidence for a successful conclusion to their quest. Gary believed in his own theory that Brian Forrester was dead somewhere in the vicinity of Cressbrook Hall and that the true details of his demise would go to the grave with those responsible. Simeon was less sure but equally pessimistic. He took the view that an investigation, however amateurish, would in itself be a therapeutic process and a token to the memory of his long lost friend. And there was always that small, slender hope that somewhere, within the range of the BBC Radio Derby transmitter, somebody would recognise a description of Brian Forrester or recognise any features of his personality: or, there was still the tiny outside chance that, somewhere out there, a man now aged 58 might just recognise himself.

  Simeon was excited, it was his first ever radio broadcast. He had not given the experience much thought but was pleasantly surprised by the warmth of welcome and high level of cheerful courtesy. Gary was bubbling with excitement even though it was his third visit to a local radio studio. In San Francisco he was helping to promote 'Gay Rights' during the early 1970's and another time in New York he belonged to a militant group and went on the radio to denounce the gay equivalent of the black 'Uncle Tom'. Simeon harboured the distinct feeling that Gary was probably speaking about him!

  After passing through several secure doors and being led through a labyrinth of passageways, they were finally shepherded into the inner-sanctum of the broadcasting studio. John Holmes was most pleasant. Surrounded by an intimidating futuristic galaxy of high-tech switches, buttons, knobs, levers and lights - he beamed a comfortable smile which put them immediately at ease and reassured Simeon (who was anxiously looking for the 'red light') that their current conversation was private between the three and not (at that moment) being shared by millions beyond. Incidental to the initial small talk, at a low volume, the music going out live could be heard. Simeon was delighted to discern familiar pizzicato strings and the strains of Adam Faith singing 'From Now Until Forever'. Very apt, but an unlikely coincidence as the following subject would be the William Howitt Secondary Modern School in the summer of 1960. The red light went on.

  Simeon was intrigued by it all. He admired the smooth skills of the professional broadcaster, seen at first hand for the first time. The coaxing, rich, cultured voice welcomed -

  " ... Simeon Hogg and Gary Mackenzie, my guests this morning. They've travelled all the way from Detroit, Michigan in the hope of solving an old mystery which has baffled the police for the last 43 years. Now, Simeon, welcome to the programme, you were actually one of those six boys who ... "

  The interview tripped along nicely within the cosy confines of John Holmes's gentle probing questions, until he turned his attention to Gary ... Simeon was panic stricken! Until that moment he suddenly realised that they had completely failed to 'get their act together' with regard to procedure. Would Gary, manic as ever, now, with enthusiasm, take the public opportunity to vent his suspicions and launch into his attack on Algernon Hardman? He understood the dead could not be slandered but what about co-operation from the living? Detective Inspector Derek Russell, in his long letter, had stressed the importance of winning the trust and speaking to the local author Charles Hardman - who himself had been interviewed by Mr Holmes on BBC Radio Derby several times. Russell had always believed that Hardman's son, a twelve year old at the time, probably knew something but remained silent due to loyalty or fear of his father. And, God forbid, would Gary, even as much as imply that one of 'the six' might be somehow involved! The world might be listening this morning - and the world included Scott North, Rex Lloyd, Danny Forrester and Tom Day - and all their relatives! Simeon stared at the threatening red light listening to Gary's animated exotic Midwestern accent, racing along with no brakes, contrasted to the more controlled, calm, deeper tones of his host, the familiar re-assuring voice of the BBC.

  The crisis passed. Gary Mackenzie had been the soul of sensitivity and diplomacy. He had spoken of the possibilities of a loss of memory. He mooted mine shafts. He paid tribute to the police, sympathised with their colossal job and the sheer impossibility of looking everywhere in that area of North Derbyshire. The dreaded words of 'paedophile' or 'rent boy' were never uttered, save for the fact that abduction or murder could not be ruled out. Nobody mentioned Cressbrook Hall until a woman from Bakewell telephoned the station -

  " ... so if you'll just put on your headphones, gentlemen, we have Anne Dean on the line. Good morning, Anne, what are your thoughts on this mystery?"

  "Could I ask Mr Mackenzie if he's a policeman or private investigator?" The voice was hard and suspicious.

  "No way!" replied Gary "Simeon and I are just a couple of old chums trying our hand at a little detection. As a school teacher he's more of the academic. I can poke around and bring a measure of Detroit street knowledge - and that can be pretty sharp! I may be able to see a different angle. We already have a few theories, but, like Poirot, we'll keep 'em to the last page."

  The hard unfriendly voice returned in sardonic tone -

  "'Trying your hand at a little detection'! Do you realise that this game of yours, your so called 'detection', is turning lives upside-down?"

  "What's your point, Anne?" asked John taking a hold of the situation.

  "My point, Mr Holmes, is to put the case for my dear friends the Hardman family who are just as much victims in this business as the Forrester family. The late Algernon Hardman suffered a double blow in 1960. First he lost his wife in a tragic motor accident and immediately came under suspicion of kidnapping (or worse) when he returned home with his son Charles. As all your older listeners know, the press made a meal of it at that time. Algernon was hounded by reporters for months and the stigma of suspicion blighted the remaining years of his life. That cloud of notoriety which hovered over Cressbrook Hall, very slowly, eventually, dissipated with the passage of time and coming of new generations.

  But what do we have now? We have Messrs Hogg and Mackenzie over here, uninvited, playing detectives to stir it all up again! Can't you leave that poor family in peace?"

  The two 'detectives' wearing headphones sat rather forlorn looking like a couple of reprimanded little boys. Gary was sorely tempted to 'lay into the bitch' but, aware of the huge audience and his own frightful temper - restrained himself. John Holmes was about to take over when Simeon indicated his willingness to respond.

  "You're quite right, Mrs Dean. It has been difficult for Algernon and Charles Hardman. I gather they were very close and sympathise with their situation, but I would like to answer your quite understandable concerns by making two points. Firstly, you are the one who has put Cressbrook Hall, once again under the spotlight. We have never mentioned the Hardman family. Secondly, just as you care for your friends, so I hold affection for my friend - Brian Forrester who might be out there somewhere."


  "Mr Hogg! That impressive address will not get you off the hook. You know full well that the media will, once again, focus on Charles's poor father. You know full well all about the sordid and lascivious speculation which will, yet again, result from digging up the past. Charles and Helen were hoping that all this business had been laid to rest years ago. Must you throw more mud at them?

  "On the contrary, I was hoping to speak to Mr Hardman. There's always a chance he may have seen something or perhaps remember something ... "

  "Let me give you some good advice, Mr Hogg," interrupted the voice which was now distinctly threatening. "Keep well away from Cressbrook Hall. You will not be welcome!"

  After this acrimonious exchange, to help soothe the sore atmosphere, the interviewer deftly made a light hearted reference to the detective duo -

  "We've mentioned Agatha Christie ... I was just wondering ... which of you is Poirot and which one is Hastings?"

  Gary bounced back with -

  "I don't think it's quite as simple as that, John. But I think we could do with more help. How are you fixed for joining us? You could be our 'Holmes'."

  "Now there's a thought! Gentlemen, do you have the courage to take another call? Jim Malpass is on the line. Go ahead, Jim."

  "Hello, Simeon."

  "Hello, Jim."

  "I well remember the 'Peak Cycling Mystery' of 1960. Read everything I could get hold of at the time. Fascinating stuff. I think the last caller did the very opposite of what she intended and those friends may not have appreciated her comments, however well meant. It was sheer bad luck for old Hardman that his residence was the only one near the disappearance. But, did you know that there was a butler and a gardener who also fell under suspicion?"