She glanced around and recognised several faces who smiled and raised either a cup or glass in her direction.
‘It’s a bit early for beer but I’m dying for a nice cup of tea.’
‘An American bomber overnighted here the other day and we’ve now got real coffee. Would you prefer to have that?’
‘Oh, yes please.’
The afternoon passed pleasantly enough and she discovered that two other women had lost their partners since she’d been there a few weeks ago. The death toll for bomber crews was horrendous. After a tasty supper she returned to the Mess and this time accepted a large gin and tonic when it was offered.
Strong alcohol always went to her head and before she realised, she was telling the eagerly listening group about Mary.
‘Sorry for your loss, Ellie, but this is a fascinating case. Have you read any of those Miss Marple books by Agatha Christie? I bet she could find the murderer in no time. Shall we try and unravel the mystery, girls?’ Peggy said to the others, and they nodded.
Ellie supposed this wouldn’t really matter as none of the participants knew Mary and certainly wouldn’t be visiting White Waltham.
‘Shall I sum up what we know?’ Peggy said – she was a very well organised and authoritative woman and had taken over the discussion. ‘One – the victim considered herself to be a witch and had involved five other respectable ladies in this enterprise. Two – there is a birth certificate saying that she was the mother of an illegitimate child. Three – she was walking along a deserted road in the fog when she was murdered. Have I missed anything, Ellie?’
‘No, that’s about right.’
‘The baby wasn’t born by immaculate conception so here must have been a man involved,’ another girl chipped in.
Someone else spoke. ‘She doesn’t sound like the sort of lady who would have an affair and that seems to be the only way she could have had a baby. My mum had my youngest brother when she was forty-four, but she’d already had five others by then.’
‘Mary had a son. That’s a fact. We think he must have been adopted but don’t know that for certain.’
‘If the infant was adopted locally maybe the adoptive parents or the child itself are the culprits because they feared the secret would come out.’
‘That’s a good point, Peggy, but I don’t see why either of those people would suddenly think that their secret was going to come out after thirty years.’
‘Perhaps they thought that now she had sold her house to you and was working as your housekeeper she might be tempted to tell you.’
‘I’m not convinced. I think it far more likely one of the husbands discovered that their wives were involved in this coven and that’s why she was killed,’ Ellie replied.
‘I expect the boys in blue will ferret out the answer. Do you think that they are ransacking your house at this very moment?’
‘I sincerely hope not. Excuse me, ladies, I have to be up early and get that damaged bomber back to Eastleigh to be repaired.’
*
Jack peered into the car as he pushed his bike through the gate but he couldn’t see if it was empty or not. The windows weren’t steamed up so he assumed they must be out of the car. He paused and placed his hand on the bonnet and could feel that it was still warm.
A shape loomed in front of him. ‘Good evening, Mr Reynolds, I’m glad you came home in time for us to speak to you again. I was told you were going to a party this evening. Mrs Reynolds not with you?’
‘No, ’fraid not. Stuck somewhere in Yorkshire but will be back tomorrow evening.’
‘Not to worry, I’m sure you can answer my questions.’
‘We don’t have a front door key so have to go in the back way. Follow me, I’ll let you in and then have to shut the chickens up or the foxes will get them.’
He peered into the coop to check there were still chickens in there and he could hear them muttering and clucking in the darkness. This was another problem they would have to solve as Mary always shut them up at dusk. The foxes might well get in the hen house before he got back if they were unlucky.
The two policemen were politely standing in the boot room, in the darkness, waiting for him. ‘Sorry about that, but chickens are too valuable to lose.’ He closed the door and then switched on the light, blinking in the brightness for a few moments. His damaged eye seemed to be more sensitive than his good one.
‘The only room that will be warm enough is the kitchen. Hope you don’t mind going in there. I’ll put the kettle on.’ His outdoor garments were already hanging on the peg and he’d dragged his boots off and shoved his socked feet into his slippers.
‘A cup of tea would go down well, sir, it’s been a long day,’ the inspector said. He and his sergeant removed their coats and hung them on the back of the chairs they’d selected to sit on.
‘I’m quite capable of answering questions whilst I’m making tea, Inspector Gardner, so fire away.’
‘I read the letters in the box and from those have gleaned some interesting information. Mrs Hatfield was not married. We can find no record of a Mr Hatfield. I have someone making enquiries at the registry office in Oxford and hopefully something will turn up – I’m hoping for a record of the adoption.’
Jack spoke with his back to them. ‘I thought this was kept a secret.’
‘An adoption is, but the courts have to register a newly adopted infant and issue a new birth certificate. With luck there’ll be one with an address in this neighbourhood.’
‘You don’t think it’s anything to do with the coven?’ The kettle boiled and he tipped the water into the pot and stirred the leaves vigorously.
‘We are also following that avenue of enquiry as well. However, I’ve no wish to embarrass the ladies involved and it’s proving difficult to speak to them without their husbands being present. Unfortunately, all five men are now retired.’
The sergeant looked hopefully at the cake tin. Jack cut them all a slice and then handed out the mugs of tea.
‘So far you’ve told me what you’re doing, and I’m grateful for that information, but you haven’t told me why you wanted to speak to me.’
‘Did you witness any of the pagan meetings?’
‘None – but there was going to be one tonight; it’s the winter solstice, you know, which is very important to them. We were going to a party at the local hostelry so they could have their own get-together after whatever it is they do, was completed.’
‘Have you any idea where these covens took place? Somewhere in the house perhaps?’
‘I’m sure not. There’s a locked shed outside that neither my wife nor I have been into even though we own everything. I doubt you’ll see much in the dark. If I give you the key now you have my permission to investigate tomorrow morning when it’s light.’
He removed it from the dresser in the pantry and took it out to the inspector.
‘Thank you, I appreciate your cooperation in this matter. This is the first murder in this area and I intend to arrest the culprit as speedily as possible.’
‘Couldn’t it have been a passing tramp? You didn’t say if she’d been robbed. She always carried a handbag and had around five pounds in her purse. I’ve a horrible feeling our ration books would also have been in there.’
‘We have her handbag and you’re correct to assume that your ration books were inside. You’ll be pleased to know that they are still in her purse. My sergeant has put them on the dresser. The motive wasn’t robbery.’
‘That’s a pity. When you arrest the person who did this it will ruin the lives of his family. It would have been so much easier if it had been a stranger.’
‘It would indeed, but if you commit a heinous crime then you deserve to be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.’
Jack shivered. He didn’t need to ask if the death penalty would be imposed. The policemen’s comment made it quite clear that the prosecution would ask for the culprit to be hung.
Fifteen
Ellie delivered the damaged Halifax safely and she and her cadet were lucky enough to get the taxi Anson back to White Waltham immediately. Yesterday’s fog had lifted and the weather was good for the end of December.
Frankie met her as she jumped out of the Anson. ‘I’ve got a priority delivery to Newcastle – Blakelaw – there’s no one else. Sorry, Ellie, but it has to be you.’
‘Give me twenty minutes to speak to Jack as this will mean I won’t get back again tonight.’
‘The paperwork’s ready. Don’t be longer than that, please.’
Jack’s office had a window but it didn’t overlook the airstrip so he wouldn’t know she’d arrived. There was no point in taking off her flight suit, but she dumped her overnight bag and chute by the door and ran to his office.
He was on his feet as soon as he saw her. ‘Ellie, sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me – Frankie already warned me you’re off again immediately.’
She threw herself into his arms and a satisfactory five minutes later emerged flushed and smiling. ‘Quickly, tell me what happened last night, if anything.’
She listened to what the inspector had said with dismay. ‘How horrible this all is, and at Christmas too. Have you had a chance to look in the cellar?’
‘No, that’s why I gave them the shed key. I’m pretty certain there’s nothing incriminating in there. Mind you, I’m not sure that being a witch is a criminal offence so I don’t see that it matters what he finds.’
‘I’ve got to go to the loo before I leave. You never know, if I break the rules like you used to do, I might even get there in time to get a lift back tonight.’
‘Fly safe, darling.’
*
She took the Spit above the clouds which was strictly forbidden and opened the throttle. Flying so fast was exhilarating and she used the instruments to guide her safety to Newcastle upon Tyne. Twenty miles from her destination she was back where she should be at 2000 feet above ground level. Hopefully, the base would be so pleased to get their new aircraft that they wouldn’t take issue with the fact that she’d arrived an hour before schedule.
This was the case and all she had to do now was fined a flip back to White Waltham. She was lucky that the Tiger Moth delivering parcels dropped in and agreed to take her to Prestwick. This seemed like a pointless detour backwards but she knew she was more likely to get a lift from there as it was a transit base where the American bombers stopped before continuing their flights to their new English bases.
She was lucky and a Liberator was in the process of being refuelled. The crew were milling about on the tarmac and were somewhat surprised, but delighted, when she approached.
‘I was hoping that I could snag a flip with you. I’m based at White Waltham near Oxford but where you’re going will be a lot nearer to home than this.’
A tall, gangly young man who looked scarcely old enough to have left home, let alone be pilot for this giant aircraft, beamed. ‘Sure thing, honey, we’re based at Attleborough, it’s somewhere in a place called Norfolk, is that any use to you?’
‘That will be absolutely wonderful. I can probably get a train from there to Diss.’
‘That’s swell. What service are you in?
‘I’m a First Officer, equivalent rank to captain, in the Air Transport Axillary and I deliver aircraft all over the country for the RAF.’
‘Jeez, little bit of a thing like you flying operational aircraft?’
‘I just delivered a Spit to Newcastle and before that took a damaged Halifax to Eastleigh.’ If he’d been surprised before now he was open-mouthed.
‘Gee! Did you hear that guys, this little lady can fly a Halifax?’
Fortunately, the captain arrived and agreed that she could come with them before she was overwhelmed by the crew and their enthusiasm. She climbed into the aircraft up the small ladder at the rear. The interior was similar to the British bombers she’d flown and she knew she’d have to find herself a corner out of the way as there wouldn’t be a spare seat for her.
The ten men quickly found their allotted places and she settled in against the fuselage sitting on her parachute. Even if she wanted to converse it was impossible. The crew communicated through the wireless in their helmets.
The flight was relatively smooth and two hours later she was welcomed, for the second time in her life, into the luxury that was a USAAF air base. As before the Americans were charming and friendly – perhaps a little too friendly – and she left laden with gifts and good wishes. More importantly she was given a lift in a jeep to the station.
To her delight she discovered a local train was due any minute. ‘You’ll catch the London train easy enough, miss, this one arrives in Diss to meet it,’ the stationmaster told her.
For once her journey went smoothly and she was airborne in the taxi heading from Hornchurch to White Waltham by late afternoon. Things didn’t often work out like this and she took it as a good omen.
Jack was waiting, despite the cold, to greet her when she jumped out of the Anson. ‘I didn’t really expect you to be here and came out more in hope than expectation.’ He hugged her.
‘Have you finished for the day? Can we go straight away? You won’t believe what I’ve got in my overnight bag.’ She deliberately didn’t ask about his day as she wanted to be home when she heard how the investigation was progressing.
‘Let’s dump your flight gear and then we can leave. I’ll let Frankie know you’re back whilst you do that. It will save time.’
The weather was mild for late December which meant it wouldn’t be a white Christmas. It also meant she would be flying tomorrow – which was Christmas Eve – and could be stranded somewhere as there wouldn’t be any public transport to bring her home.
She was astride her bicycle when he came back. ‘Good news, darling, you’re delivering locally tomorrow.’
‘That’s a relief, I was worrying about that.’
It was marginally lighter than it had been the last time she’d pedalled back and they arrived safely. Jack for some reason had the backdoor key in his pocket and he unlocked the door.
‘Golly – the house is warmer than I expected.’
‘Stan’s wife is now our daily.’
‘I don’t know anyone called Stan but I’m pleased we’ve got someone to help us.’
‘Stan’s the gardener – I didn’t know his name until yesterday either. Mrs Cook, Eliza, is going to come in for an hour and a half every day between four and five-thirty. This means she’ll prepare our food and light the fires.’
‘That’s wonderful. Surely she doesn’t want to work every day of the week?’
‘They only live a hundred yards away in one of the cottages by the church. She says her grandchildren don’t need to be watched anymore so she’d rather be working.’
‘Is she going to shut up the chickens for us as well?’
‘No, Stan will do that. Eliza’s going to do our shopping too.’
The appetising smell of Woolton pie greeted her as she stepped into the kitchen. The table had a pretty cloth on it and was laid ready for them to eat.
She made the tea whilst he dished up as this was simpler for him to do one-handed. Once they were seated, she was ready to hear his news.
*
Over supper Jack explained the theories that Gardner had about Mary’s untimely death.
‘I don’t see that finding out your wife is a member of a coven is sufficient reason to murder someone. I think it’s more likely to be something to do with that birth certificate.’
‘I agree. Do you remember when we first moved here that we heard someone trying to break in?’
‘I’d forgotten about that. Do you think the two things are connected?’
‘When we told Mary about the would-be burglar, she made light of it but I thought at the time she was more upset than she wanted to say.’
‘Did the inspector get back to you and say what he’d found in the shed, if anything?’
‘Only the parapherna
lia associated with her peculiar hobby. Nothing more sinister than that. When we’ve finished eating I think we must have a look in the cellar. Maybe we’ll find something that explains all this, hidden down there.’
‘By the way, I forgot to show you the things I was given by the Americans.’
Her bag was in the hall and she fetched it in. ‘Look – a tin of coffee, two bars of chocolate, two pairs of nylons and a tin of butter. I think that’s the same as I got last time.’
‘And just before Christmas too. Stan offered to kill and pluck a cockerel for us so I said he could do one for himself at the same time.’
‘I didn’t know we had three cockerels.’
‘We have five. Four for the pot and one for the chickens. We’ve also got Brussels sprouts, carrots and potatoes from the garden to add to our Christmas feast.’ He pointed to the cake tin. ‘I’m afraid there’s only half of the cake left.’
‘That doesn’t matter. There’s plenty for us. I can make a lovely Victoria sponge cake and fill it with some of the jam in the pantry now I’ve got this butter. Does Eliza make bread, do you know?’
‘She does and will make us a loaf a couple of times a week when she bakes for herself.’
‘We’re procrastinating, Jack. Let’s leave the dishes for once and get this other business over. I don’t suppose there’ll be lights down there so we’d better get out torches.’
‘Might be a good idea to put on our coats as well. It’s going to be cold.’
She went to fetch them whilst he pushed aside the vegetable boxes and pulled open the trapdoor. It obviously hadn’t been opened for years and it took all its strength to shift it. Ellie returned and sniffed.
‘It doesn’t smell horrible. What are the steps like?’
‘You can see for yourself. Stone, cobwebs and dirt, but not too bad.’ He shone his torch into the darkness and she joined him at the entrance to peer down.
‘Can’t see anything from here. Do I really have to come down with you?’
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