The Esther & Jack Enright Box Set

by David Field

  Jack looked hopefully into her eyes.

  ‘Can we go and do that now? I can always pretend that I was inside here, looking for clues among the paperwork.’

  ‘When we’re married,’ Esther said, smiling, ‘I won’t forget how glibly you can come up with excuses for being where you shouldn’t. Have you had dinner yet?’

  ‘No. I was hoping to take you to that Italian place just down the road there, although this time I’ll stick to chicken.’

  ‘So tell me what you’ve learned already,’ Jack invited her as they sat side by side in the half empty trattoria, munching on chicken ciabatta. Esther pulled a face.

  ‘George Manners has all the charm of a frog. No wonder Helen didn’t welcome his overtures. But I suspect that he knows a great deal about Helen’s death that he shouldn’t. He knew that she’d been murdered and he knew where. Was it by any chance in the local papers here in London?’

  ‘Not as far as I know,’ Jack replied, ‘but I’ll obviously make enquiries. What exactly will you be doing down there?’

  ‘Just sitting at the front counter, looking alluring and ignoring my new employer’s nauseating attempts to get me interested in him.’

  ‘You’re quite sure you don’t find him just the least bit attractive?’ Jack asked with a worried frown.

  ‘Not for as long as you’re around. In fact, even if he were the last person on earth, I’d probably prefer to become a nun. In any case,’ Esther added for good measure, ‘the man’s engaged to this dreadful dragon of a woman who clearly regards me as competition for her precious fiancé. If only she knew what I really think of him!’

  ‘Will she give you a bad time all the same?’

  Esther shook her head. ‘No, as it happens we share the same job on the front counter. It seems that she has another job in the mornings, which is why George Manners requires me then, and she takes over at around dinner time when she gets back.’

  It was late afternoon before they stood before their new front door, on the second floor landing of the residential building in Clerkenwell that would be their first matrimonial home, with or without wallpaper, in just over four months time. Jack was in the process of inserting the key in the lock, his feet surrounded by rolls of wallpaper and packets of paste that were guaranteed to be arsenic free, when they heard a light footfall on the staircase that gave access to the top floor. They both looked in the same direction as a late middle-aged lady appeared on the bottom stair dressed in slippers, a floor length skirt and a heavy woollen garment that might have once been her husband’s.

  ‘Are you the new people?’ she enquired with an open smile.

  ‘We will be after our wedding. This is Jack and I’m Esther. After June we’ll both be called “Enright”.’

  ‘I’m Alice Bridges,’ the lady advised them, ‘and I live upstairs, alone since my husband died. It’ll be so nice to have other people living here again. Do I gather from what’s lying at your feet that you’re here to do some decorating?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Jack said as he pushed the door open and moved their purchases into their front hall.

  ‘Do you have time for a cup of tea first?’ Alice asked, and in the circumstances they felt that they couldn’t refuse. A few minutes later they were sipping tea in Alice’s kitchen and absorbing her life story.

  ‘My husband Albert was a supervisor with the Board of Works,’ she informed them, ‘and he died coming up to two years ago. Pneumonia, it was, but he always had a weak chest. Then old Mrs Galway, the lady who used to live in the rooms you’re taking over, fell ill with something unpronounceable, and I was privileged to be allowed to nurse her through her final days. She lived out her last few months in that front room of yours, so that she could watch the comings and goings in the street from her bed. It’s been very quiet since she passed away, because the couple who have the ground floor are theatrical types and they’re mostly away touring the country. Will you be using the rear garden much?’

  ‘I will be tomorrow,’ Jack said, grinning, ‘since I have to burn off some old wallpaper. We only called in to drop off the new stuff, which we’ll start hanging tomorrow.’

  ‘I was hoping someone might take over the garden again,’ Alice said wistfully. ‘It was always so beautifully kept when my husband was alive and you get such a good view of it from the kitchen here. But just lately it’s been allowed to fall into disuse and I’m not as good on my pins as I used to be, so perhaps Jack here could take up an interest in it.’

  ‘I’ll obviously do what I can,’ Jack assured her, ‘but I only get a limited amount of time off.’

  ‘What do you do?’

  ‘I’m a detective with Scotland Yard,’ Jack replied proudly.

  Alice smiled. ‘That’s reassuring to know. You aren’t safe even in your own house these days and I’ll feel better knowing that you’re just downstairs.’

  ‘And I work as a clerk for a trade union,’ Esther added, not wishing to be written off yet.

  ‘Very nice, dear, but that’ll likely change when the babies come along.’

  A few minutes later, back inside their own rooms, Jack felt free to express an opinion. ‘A bit of a busybody, I reckon.’

  ‘She’s just lonely, Jack. And if the time comes when I’m stuck at home here, I may value the company.’

  ‘I hope she doesn’t expect too much of me in the garden.’

  ‘Probably not as much as I expect of you in the way of wallpapering. You can make an early start in the morning and I’ll be here with your dinner to see how much of the old stuff you’ve managed to remove. Then we can start with this new pattern. But now I really think you should at least pretend to be a detective on duty, while I get back to writing those boring letters to people who no doubt believe that the Alliance is still in existence. What’s Uncle Percy doing in the meantime?’

  ‘Checking on criminal histories. Mainly George Manners and people associated with him. What was the name of that woman he’s engaged to?’

  ‘Margaret Templeton, as far as I can remember. We didn’t exactly become bosom friends in the few minutes that we had together before she all but threw me out of the office. I hope she keeps it that brief every day when we change shifts.’

  The next three mornings in Wapping proved more or less uneventful for Esther, apart from two rather uncomfortable developments. On the Tuesday morning she arrived to find a beautiful vase of flowers on the front counter with a note written in a florid scrolling script that was the work of George Manners. He had signed his name above the message: ‘They can’t compare with your beauty, but they might cheer you up’. They lasted until dinner time, when Margaret Templeton arrived, took one look at the note and carried the vase into George’s office, from which could be heard the voice of a very angry woman and the smashing of china. Esther opted to depart for the day without waiting for Margaret to re-emerge.

  On the Wednesday, a bell appeared on the counter and once George presumably heard the sounds of Esther moving around behind it, he opened his office door and peered out.

  ‘The bell is to alert you to the fact that you have an enquirer, should you be elsewhere.’

  ‘You mean the ladies’ room?’

  George shook his head with a smile of pure butter. ‘That, or inside with me, drinking tea. You can make tea, can’t you?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then bring some in for us both at around ten thirty or so. The kitchen’s down the hallway to the left and you’ll find biscuits in the breadbin.’

  Shortly after ten thirty, Esther found herself sitting across from George, pouring tea for them both. He was staring intently at her every action and Esther was on the point of inviting him to look elsewhere when he sighed.

  ‘Such beauty and such delicate hand actions. You really are wasted sitting on a front desk. I’ve known women with only half your good looks rise very rapidly in commercial organisations such as ours. Are you not interested in something more suited to your natural attributes?’
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  ‘I’m happy as I am,’ Esther replied evasively, in no doubt as to how George would like the conversation to develop.

  ‘And of course, before much longer, you’ll be lost to us in marriage. I hope your young man appreciates what he’s getting. It’s just a pity that he’s not more established in society, so that he can supply you with all the material possessions that a young woman of your undoubted beauty deserves.’

  ‘He’s got everything I need,’ Esther replied stiffly.

  ‘For the moment, perhaps,’ George argued. ‘But once the babies come along and the first bloom of your youthful beauty fades, how can you be sure that his attentions won’t wander? Some working men can be very fickle, you know. Far better that you hold yourself in readiness for someone who appreciates inner beauty — someone in a position to promote your own progress through society. I take it that the Alliance is now moribund?’

  ‘Yes. I’m in the process of writing to all members and potential members to advise them of that sad fact.’

  ‘Had you thought of promoting a union of your own? I could make that happen for you.’

  ‘I’m sure you could, Mr Manners, but my only immediate ambition is marriage.’

  ‘Call me George, please. And permit me to expand on how I believe we could move forward together in a whole new enterprise.’

  Just then the front desk bell rang and Esther only just managed to suppress a yell of delight as she was able to use the excuse to rise from her chair and leave the office with a muted apology.

  She was kept busy for the next hour or so with a seemingly endless line of men who all claimed that they needed to speak to George Manners urgently, but who gave the lie to that by appearing to be happy enough to lean on the counter while they waited and ogled Esther’s every move. She was highly relieved when Margaret showed up and several of those with allegedly urgent business made their excuses and left.

  However, the constant action at the counter had prevented Esther removing the tea things from the office and immediately after scowling at the bell on the counter, Margaret glared at Esther.

  ‘I bet if I go in there I’ll find evidence that you and George were taking tea together. And did he promise you the moon in a piecrust if you’d lie down for him? That’s how he always begins — believe me, I’ve seen how he works. Just remember, my girl, that he’s already engaged to me.’ She looked swiftly round to ensure that they were alone, then whispered hoarsely. ‘It’s dinner time. Bugger off.’

  At least Esther had the afternoons to look forward to and she cheered up and forgot the unpleasant mornings as she joined Jack in the excitement of their new home and together they explored the intricacies of wallpapering. Jack had almost completely stripped the wall of their first attempts, using a variety of tools he’d purchased from a sales assistant at a hardware shop who not only had the right equipment for such a task, but also gave Jack minute instructions regarding how wallpapering should be done.

  ‘Is it all off?’ Esther asked as she handed Jack the meat pie and bottle of ginger beer in the kitchen and nodded towards the closed bedroom door.

  ‘All but one tiny piece under the window. I might need explosive for that. Once we’ve eaten, you can help me take it all downstairs and burn it.’

  Just over an hour later, as they stood watching the smouldering pile in what had once been a rose bed, Jack gave Esther a wry smile.

  ‘Don’t look now, but Mrs Busybody from upstairs is watching our every move.’

  ‘She’s probably got nothing better to do with her time, Jack, so don’t be too hard on her. It must be awful to be a lonely old widow.’

  ‘I have a sneaking suspicion that she won’t be lonely for long, once we move in and she has you available downstairs all day.’

  ‘I’ll probably be working during the day,’ she reminded him.

  ‘Perhaps, but hopefully not at that union place down in Wapping. Have you discovered anything worthwhile yet?’

  ‘Only that George Manners fancies himself as a seducer of ladies, but I knew that already from what Helen was able to tell me about him. I’m a little surprised that he got himself engaged to that dreadful Margaret Templeton who helped him establish the union, since according to Helen he still held a burning torch for her. But having met the woman, I can well imagine how a mild-mannered little pansy like him could be terrorised into an engagement. She’s really horrible and has taken a strong dislike to me since George began paying me serious attention.’

  ‘But you’ve neither seen nor heard anything to connect Manners with either the intimidating actions of Wally Mathewson or Helen’s murder?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing. But talking of lack of progress, can we just leave this to smoulder out and go back upstairs and start on the new stuff?’

  ‘Yes, why not? I’ve picked up a few handy hints on how to do it. Prepare to be amazed by your fiancé’s skill as a paper hanger.’

  While Jack was demonstrating his new skills to Esther they heard a heavy knock on their front door.

  ‘If that’s the nosy cow from upstairs, tell her we died.’

  ‘Really, Jack!’ Esther admonished him. ‘You’re going to have to learn to be more neighbourly to poor old Alice.’

  ‘“Poor old Alice”, as you call her, has a strong enough knock. Go and chase her away.’

  Esther scurried down the hall, opened the door, then looked up, wide-eyed.

  ‘Uncle Percy! What a welcome surprise! Do come in.’

  Percy followed her down the hallway and into the designated bedroom in which Jack was pasting his first sheet, face down on the old kitchen table that had been abandoned by Mrs Galway’s heirs and successors after her death.

  ‘Glad we found some use for your talents,’ Percy grinned. ‘Your next job is to fix a lock on that street door. Anyone could walk in and then they only have to get past the door to your rooms.’

  ‘Shouldn’t you be on duty?’ Jack growled.

  ‘I am on duty,’ Percy replied as his face suddenly adopted a serious expression. ‘How soon before this place is fit for Esther to move in?’

  ‘Forever, if we keep getting these interruptions,’ Jack replied with irritation. ‘What’s the hurry, all of a sudden?’

  ‘I’ve just completed the next stage in our investigations, down in Lambeth,’ Percy replied with a frown. ‘What I’ve learned is very disturbing and the sooner Esther’s out of Lamb Street the happier I’ll be.’

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Percy Enright had been very busy during the past few days, making a pain of himself in various cobwebbed corners of the police service. He was determined to track down Helen Trenchard’s killer, but had little to go on other than the name of the woman who had found her body — ‘Marjory Collins’ — and a vague description of her being in her mid thirties. That was somewhere to start, although he never felt entirely comfortable working south of the river, which for all police officers seemed like a psychological brick wall. Either you were a ‘north of the river’ copper, or you preferred the south side and for a ‘northerner’ like Percy, the south side was something of a closed book.

  On the Tuesday morning after their return from Luton — well over a week since Helen’s murder — he’d stood staring thoughtfully into the tanner’s yard in Merrow Street. The lady who’d given the obviously false name of Marjory Collins might well have known this area, and this address, well. Well enough to fool the police in Luton, anyway. Had she just got lucky when she correctly picked the name of a Lambeth street, or had she known that although the street existed, they would only find a tanner’s yard when they checked on the address of number 27?

  As he stared into the yard, his attention was drawn to a building at the back of it that looked as if it was lived in, or might perhaps once have been. It was normal for tradesmen such as tanners, who plied their trade in a yard of some sort, to live adjacent to them, often in a house that went with the business. It was a long shot, but someone living here might know of a Marjory Coll
ins. He crossed the street and walked into the yard, wrinkling his nose against the rank smell of whatever they used to cure the cow-hide, which he vaguely remembered might be excrement. It certainly smelt like it and he was anxious to minimise his enquiries in this particular locality.

  A tired looking man gazed up at him with rheumy eyes from the barrel in which he was stirring God knew what with the aid of a long wooden paddle.

  ‘Can I ’elp yer, friend?’ the man enquired.

  ‘I hope so,’ Percy replied, holding his police badge high in the air, wondering if the smell by which he was surrounded might somehow tarnish it. ‘I’m looking for a Marjory Collins. Could be a “Mrs” or a “Miss”, but “Marjory Collins” anyway.’

  ‘Never ’eard of anybody o’ that name,’ the man replied.

  Percy nodded towards what he took to be the house at the rear of the yard. ‘Who lives there?’

  ‘Me an’ the missus. The children moved out years ago; not interested in takin’ over the business their old man worked ’is arse off ter leave ’em. Why d’yer wanna know?’

  ‘How long have you lived there?’

  ‘Most o’ me life. Me old man took over the business when the bloke what owned it died. Murdered, they reckon. By ’is own children, what’s more.’

  ‘What was the name of the man who was murdered — the former owner of the business?’

  ‘No idea, my friend. I were only a young bloke at the time. Goin’ on twenty, I musta bin. Then me old man died o’ that cholera what come through ’ere in the seventies an’ I only just escaped it meself. I’m comin’ on fifty now, so yer talkin’ maybe thirty odd years ago when we moved in ’ere. Say eighteen sixty or thereabouts — does that ’elp yer?’

  ‘Perhaps and perhaps not. Thank you anyway. Where’s the local police station?’

  ‘I thought yer said yer was a copper? No wonder they don’t come when yer need ’em, if they don’t even know where their own bleedin’ station is. If yer go back down this street, then take the bus up Walworth Road ’til yer on Kennington Lane, then it’s a few yards down on yer left.’