A Snapshot of Murder

by Frances Brody

  ‘Did anyone else go with her?’

  ‘I wanted to and so did Rita, but we were kept there to answer a few questions. Afterwards, Rita went to see if she could stay with Carine.’ He blew a smoke ring. ‘What about Harriet? Where is she?’

  ‘With my mother, at the Porters’ house in Stanbury.’

  Like Carine, she was in the house of a police officer, albeit a retired one – if police officers can ever truly be said to have retired.

  Each of us must be under suspicion.

  A man in plus fours came into the courtyard with two children, asking, ‘Are they serving teas?’

  I advised him to knock on the door.

  ‘Edward, where do you teach?’

  ‘Giggleswick School.’

  ‘I was there last year, to witness the eclipse. I don’t remember seeing you.’

  ‘I started in September.’

  The question came from my lips without a plan, seeming like a guess. ‘September? That was when you began to see Carine again.’

  ‘She told you?’

  She had not told me that they began to see each other. She told me only that she had spotted him, and watched him catch the tram. I know what I would have done in that situation. I would have run after the tram and jumped on. She must have done the same, and decided to say nothing to any of us.

  ‘Ilkley must have been a convenient place for you to meet, a halfway point?’

  ‘Yes. We meant to keep it secret, but I suppose all women talk to their friends.’

  He was right. Carine and I did talk, but she had not told me the truth.

  ‘You and I should talk, Edward.’ I stood. ‘If we stay here, Derek will come to ask for help with the blood stain on his gran’s cloak, or Rita will come back, with blisters on her feet.’

  ‘I could do with stretching my legs.’

  We crossed the path.

  He held the gate for me. ‘Carine said you have a knack for investigation. And now I know who you are. The science master told me about you, but not your name. His star pupil met you last year.’

  ‘A brilliant young man.’

  In the field, sturdy saplings grew alongside the sparse trees. It felt blissfully peaceful after the turmoil of the day.

  Edward spoke first. ‘You think Toby was murdered.’

  ‘Don’t you? And whether he was or not, you may not see another September in Giggleswick. I should think masters are meant to avoid scandal.’

  We walked down to the stream. ‘You are right. A scandal may be imminent. I have been asked by the police not to leave the area until my address has been verified.’

  ‘We all have to stay here for the present.’

  There is something calming about the sound of water lapping over rocks and pebbles. Humans must have listened to that sound since time immemorial and would go on doing so until the end of time. I bobbed down and scooped a drink. It was the purest water I had ever tasted.

  Edward copied me. ‘Elisa says the spring supplies the house. It would almost be worth moving here for this.’

  ‘Perhaps there’ll be a vacancy at Stanbury School.’

  He smiled. ‘A Miss Greenwood was appointed head in 1920. I doubt that she is ready to retire in favour of a scandal-drenched poet with scarred countenance and a motive for murder.’

  ‘And are you guilty?’

  ‘I’m guilty of a great deal, and as a soldier I know how to kill.’

  ‘Most of us know where the heart is.’

  ‘Not everyone. People do miss.’ He threw a pebble into the stream. ‘Toby was my mate, my comrade. We stuck by each other all through that nasty show. He dragged me to safety. I would have died if not for him. There was a time when I wished he had let me die.’

  ‘And yet?’

  ‘He came to see me in hospital. I was covered in bandages. I had no idea why I was still alive. I thought my face had been entirely blown away. Those doctors, one in particular, he was a marvel. But that didn’t stop me reeling when I saw myself in a mirror with my one good eye.’

  At least you came back, I wanted to say. But one does not say that.

  ‘My clothes had been burned off me. I’m not going to tell you, we don’t, do we?’

  He already had, but perhaps he thought he was talking to himself.

  ‘It wasn’t me in that mirror. It was some freak, some monster. The surgeon operated again, and again. I couldn’t have gone back to Carine.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘She is exquisite now, but you should have seen her then, the bloom on her. I couldn’t have presented myself and kept her to her promise. We would have been beauty and the beast.’

  ‘No, no beast, Edward. You were still yourself.’

  ‘I gave Tobias my poems, to give to Carine, and said to tell her that I died.’

  ‘Is that what he did?’

  ‘He refused at first, but I said that if he did not, I would die. I would turn my face to the wall and die.’

  ‘And did Tobias deliver your poems, and your message?’

  ‘He did. For a while I wondered had I done the right thing. One of the nurses was very friendly, and kind to me. She said of course I would recover and of course I must teach. She made me laugh. She said no artist would want me for the subject of a romantic oil painting, but what man with a vocation to follow would waste precious time sitting for an artist?’ Edward smiled at the memory. ‘I’ve often thought of that nurse. Now I see her differently. Her words were a declaration of kindness, even of love. Then, I thought only of Carine. Part of me hoped that Tobias would tell her the truth, or that if he did tell her my lie she would not believe him.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have done it. You shouldn’t have lied to her.’

  ‘I know. I was a coward.’ He sighed. ‘I waited to hear, from her, or from Tobias. I still have the letter Tobias wrote to me. Do you want to hear it?’

  ‘No.’

  He took out the letter. ‘How’s this then for treachery?’

  He cleared his throat and read in an impeccable tone that so mimicked Tobias’s pitch that, in a different life, Edward might have become an actor.

  ‘“Dear old chap, I did as you asked and called to see Carine. The news of your passing hit her hard. She will treasure your poems. Her father urged her to be brave, as you had been brave. I am sorry not to report sooner as you must have been wandering.”’

  Here he paused and lowered the letter as if he had tired of reading. ‘He meant wondering, not wandering.’

  When I did not comment, he continued. ‘Here’s the best bit. “I have heard now that she is making a new life. The best of wishes, old fellow, from your old comrade, Toby.”

  ‘He didn’t say that the new life was with him. When I found out they’d married, I asked myself, How could she marry a man who says you must have been wandering, when he means wondering?’

  ‘I suppose that might be a common mistake.’

  ‘And do you know what she said yesterday? That I was her Bobby Dazzler and I always would have been her Bobby Dazzler.’

  He cupped his hands and took another drink from the stream.

  ‘Did you kill Tobias?’

  ‘That’s what the policeman asked me.’

  ‘That’s what they asked, or will ask, all of us, one way or another.’

  ‘Do you think I would tell them if I did?’

  ‘Did you know that Tobias had a swordstick?’

  ‘I’ve seen one like it before.’ Placing the palms of his hands on his cheeks, he rubbed his fingertips across his cheekbones.

  ‘Does your face hurt?’

  ‘Yes. It helps when I splash it with water, or put on ointment at night. I like this stream here. I had a notion earlier that if I lived here and washed my face in the stream for a year and a day, I’d be my old self again.’

  ‘That’s an attractive notion.’

  ‘I’ve read too many stories.’ He stood. ‘Fancy a walk?’

  ‘Yes, but before we do –’

  ‘Wha
t?’

  ‘I’ll be doing this, and asking the others. Will you draw a diagram of where we were all standing when Tobias died? You were behind us.’

  ‘I was.’

  ‘And anyone else who was within your sight.’

  ‘For you?’

  ‘Why not? As you say, I have a knack for investigation.’

  He reached out a hand. For once I was glad to be helped to my feet.

  Ahead of us, between the trees, the young camper, whose tent I’d seen earlier, was packing up his gear. He poured water from a billycan onto the embers of the fire. He wiped a knife on the grass. So busy was he in his preparations to leave, that he did not notice us until we were almost beside him.

  ‘Where next?’ Edward called.

  The camper, surprised to see us, mumbled a few words about setting off for the coast.

  I could see why Edward might be a good teacher. He switched into English master mode, wishing the student good luck for his coming term. ‘You’ll be able to tell your teachers and fellow students that you were in Haworth when the Brontë Museum came into being.’

  ‘I didn’t go,’ the lad said. ‘I’m more interested in the geology than in museums and books.’

  ‘Odd,’ Edward said. ‘I thought I saw you there.’

  The lad shook his head. He lifted his great pack onto his back.

  I also thought I had seen him in Haworth. ‘Something happened today in Haworth. The police may want to speak to you about it.’

  ‘I told you, I wasn’t there.’

  ‘They are speaking to everyone, you better tell us your name and where you are going.’

  He shrugged. ‘My name’s John, but I’ve nothing to say to the police, and I’ve a long way to go before nightfall.’

  He spoke with an accent from the other side of the Pennines, though I could not place it. He was from ‘over the border’, where the Vareys, according to Elisa, had their ancestral home. Perhaps he had been engaged as an avenging angel. Short of making a citizen’s arrest – for which there would be no grounds – or asking Edward to tie him to a tree, there was nothing I could do, except watch which direction he went and memorise his thin face, slightly crooked nose and light brown hair.

  ‘It’s an odd time of day to be setting off for the coast,’ Edward said as we watched him go.

  ‘And he seemed anxious. I’m going to ask Elisa about him.’

  When we returned to the house, Elisa was preparing the evening meal.

  ‘Your camper has gone.’

  She shrugged. ‘They come and go.’

  ‘Isn’t it an odd time to be setting off?’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘He said his name was John. Do you know his last name, or where he’s from?’

  ‘We don’t ask for a life story. People know we allow campers in the wood. They turn up, pay for their pitch, and that’s an end of it.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Perspective

  The evening was still light with a gentle breeze as I set off to retrace the path to Stanbury and call at Laverall Hall. I wanted to see how Harriet was. I hoped that by tomorrow I should be allowed to take her home. Under the circumstances, Dad might trust me with his precious motorcar.

  I had walked only a few yards when Constable Briggs, who had taken my statement earlier, came into view, strenuously pedalling his bicycle up the bumpy track. He wobbled to a stop as we drew closer.

  ‘Mrs Shackleton, just the person. I have a message for you from Mr Porter and Mr Hood.’

  ‘I was just on my way to the Porters.’

  ‘Well they say to tell you that Harriet is sleeping, and to leave her be for tonight.’

  ‘Thanks for telling me but I’ll still just walk along there and speak to my mother.’

  ‘Ah, there’s the thing, madam. Your mother sends her good wishes and she will see you tomorrow. My sergeant asks if you will ensure that all of your party remain at Ponden Hall tonight.’

  ‘Three of us are here, Derek Blondell, Mr Chester and I. Mrs Murchison and Miss Rufus haven’t returned from Haworth.’

  ‘Mrs Murchison is under the doctor’s care for the present. Miss Rufus is on her way back. I saw her onto the bus myself. We would all be much obliged if you would ensure that your party remain in residence here. Certain enquiries need to be made, you see.’

  ‘Yes, I see.’ So we were all under suspicion, and one of us may make a run for it. It would be awkward for my dad and Mr Porter if I kicked up a fuss. If I were in the shoes of the police, I would be of the same mind. Keep the outsiders in one place.

  ‘Very well, Mr Briggs.’

  After all, if Harriet were sleeping and Dad and Mr Porter providing assistance to the local police, it would be best to keep away from Laverall Hall tonight. There would be nothing I could do. ‘Do you intend to come up to Ponden Hall, or shall I pass on your request?’

  ‘I’ll walk up with you, madam. I’m to stay at the hall for the present.’

  ‘You are guarding us?’

  ‘Oh no, nothing like that, just a presence you know, a police presence, for reassurance.’

  He began to wheel his bike. We walked back up together.

  ‘Constable, this may be nothing, but there was a camper in the wood who was in Haworth this afternoon, I’m sure of it, and yet he said he was not. He packed up and left about twenty minutes ago.’

  ‘And did he say where he was going?’

  ‘He was a little vague, but said he was on his way to the coast.’

  ‘Funny time to set off.’

  ‘That’s what I thought.’

  Mr Briggs took out his notebook and pencil. I gave him a description of the camper. ‘He said his name is John and that he is a student of geology.’

  ‘I’ll pass that on. Thank you.’

  We continued our walk to the house. As we drew closer, Mr Briggs asked, ‘Anything else about this camper?’

  ‘He was putting out his fire …’

  ‘Very commendable.’

  ‘… and wiping a knife on the grass.’

  The constable perked up, either at the mention of a mystery camper wiping a knife on the grass, or Elisa banging the gong and calling, ‘Supper’s ready.’

  We stepped inside.

  Constable Briggs wished Elisa good evening. He explained that he had been asked to come along, and just make sure everyone was safe and well, and would remain safe and well overnight.

  Elisa eyed him suspiciously. ‘We’re well enough, Mr Briggs.’

  ‘That’s good. Then I’ll pay my respects to your mother.’

  ‘Mam’s not up to seeing you. She’s having one of her poorly days.’

  ‘I need a word with her about stopping with you all until morning.’

  ‘Bed and breakfast, when you’ve a home to go to?’

  ‘I won’t be in the way and you can all rest easy in your beds.’

  It was very tactful of him to say so, since we were the ones who might be thought to pose a danger to the good people of Haworth and Stanbury. I could just imagine what certain people might say. Everything was all right, until that lot came along.

  ‘Elisa, since Constable Briggs is going to stay with us for a while, might he join us for supper?’

  ‘We cooked for seven and we’re down to three – four if Miss Rufus comes back – so I don’t see why not.’

  Mr Briggs looked pleased at this. ‘Thank you. I’ll just see who’s about.’ He walked along the hall, his boots clattering on the tiles.

  When he was out of hearing, Elisa thrashed the gong again, and then turned to me. ‘Mam’s in a bit of a knot with herself. She thinks you won’t want to settle up, what with the weekend turning out as it has.’

  ‘Of course we’ll settle up. Give me your account now if you like.’ I followed her along the corridor and into the kitchen. ‘Smells good.’

  Elisa pointed to the box bed by the fireplace. Indicating that we must not disturb the occupant, she put a finger to her lips and whispered. ‘
Pork and beans.’

  The door to the box bed was tightly shut. If Mrs Varey truly was in the box, she must be running out of air by now.

  I whispered back. ‘Give us ten more minutes for the food, Elisa. Rita is on her way back.’

  Derek appeared. ‘Elisa, did you see that I put my gran’s cloak in your washing place?’

  Elisa forgot we were supposed to be whispering. ‘I’m not touching anything that’s touched that man.’

  ‘Can anyone else do it? I’ll pay.’

  ‘Go find someone else. I’ve a meal to serve.’ Elisa handed me our account. A voice from the box bed said, ‘And we don’t want nowt of that man in this house and no mention of his name.’

  Derek and I escaped into the corridor. ‘Don’t worry about the cloak. Your gran won’t need it in August.’

  ‘That’s why I knew I could borrow it, but she’ll spot a stain straight away.’

  ‘My housekeeper is a genius at removing blood stains.’ I had no idea whether this was true but strongly suspected that such a task would be well within Mrs Sugden’s capabilities.

  ‘Oh thank you. That’s a weight off my mind.’

  ‘Now there’s something you can do for me.’

  ‘Just say the word.’

  ‘First, go meet Rita. She should be coming up the lane from the bus. She will be feeling miserable and worn out.’

  His worried look fled, now that he had something to do.

  ‘Right-o, and what else?’

  ‘I want to talk to you later. Did you do that diagram for me?’

  ‘I did.’ He took out his notebook and tore out the page.

  ‘You and I will see whether we can shed some light on this whole dreadful business.’

  ‘I’m off then.’ He marched along the corridor, like a man with a mission of national importance.

  As it turned out, Constable Briggs was the only one of us with anything like an appetite. I sat beside Rita urging her to at least taste the leek and potato soup, and to have another spoonful, and another. She had come back looking pale and exhausted. One of her bejewelled shoes was torn and she had lost her shawl.

  ‘The sergeant’s wife wouldn’t let me see Carine, said she was sleeping. I don’t know what they must have given her because I know she’s a light sleeper. They wouldn’t let me in.’