A Snapshot of Murder

by Frances Brody

  ‘Unless she’s already left,’ Rosie added.

  Sykes knew that Rosie would crow if Mrs Shackleton had gone home.

  ‘None of them have gone,’ the young woman said. ‘They’re not allowed to.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Ways of Seeing

  I left the library, where Marcus was questioning Rita, and went back into the bedroom. I put my nightwear in the trunk, along with the items that Harriet had placed in the press. I picked up my shoes, which had not escaped the deluge, and carried them downstairs.

  Edward was seated at the table, unseeing, staring into space. I had entered the room quietly and caught him unawares. It was difficult to read emotion in his face, yet it was naked, in a way a face sometimes is when the person believes they are not observed. He sat upright, and yet gave the impression of being broken. His arms hung limply by his sides. A newspaper lay on the floor.

  I had begun to blame him for not caring, for showing no regard for Carine and making no effort to enquire after her. He became aware of me, and looked up.

  I did not want to make him self-conscious and so barged in with a request. ‘Edward, if you’ve read that paper, I’d like a couple of pages to stuff my shoes.’

  The change was instant, as if he had been ordered to stand to attention. ‘Elisa mentioned you were rained on. Give them here and I’ll see to them.’ He seemed glad of something to do, regarding seeing to shoes as a man’s job, especially when that man was a former soldier.

  ‘Thanks.’ I handed him my shoes.

  He set them down, tore a sheet of newspaper and began to make neat little balls of it. ‘As the paper gets damp, replace it. Don’t put them too close to the fire or the leather will crack.’ He spoke as if he did not expect to be here to complete the task.

  ‘What’s eating you, Edward? I thought you were too calm for words, but you’re not are you?’

  He began to make another newspaper ball for the second shoe. ‘I feel such an idiot, Kate. I’ve made a mess of everything.’

  ‘And now you’re stepping back, for fear of making the situation worse.’

  ‘You’re very astute.’

  ‘How have you been an idiot?’

  ‘In every way. Why should a man, who teaches at a school near Settle, pretend to live in Headingley so that he can join a photographic society?’

  ‘That’s easily explained, surely? It’s odd, but not a crime.’

  ‘I’m the last to be interviewed because then I must be driven to Keighley police station and asked to give evidence of my identity and address.’

  ‘Is that so terrible?’

  ‘Some of our pupils hail from Keighley. My being a person of interest to the police could be all round the school within ten minutes of the new term. This could be the end of me, and do you know what? I don’t care because that is the least of it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Let them just hang me. I’m the obvious suspect, and if it was someone else – if this is connected to the Vareys, well they’ve suffered enough.’ He began to stuff the balls of newspaper into a shoe. ‘By now, the landlord of the Black Bull will no doubt have come forward bearing witness to a blazing row between me and Tobias.’

  ‘He might not.’

  ‘It wasn’t just a row, Kate. When Carine left us both sitting there, the landlord came between us to stop us from brawling like drunken sailors. You see where the finger will point.’

  ‘May I ask you something, Edward?’

  ‘Please do.’

  ‘Why did you come back, after all this time?’

  ‘I’m a solitary man. When it’s school holidays, I’m at a loose end. Can you believe that I was so stupid that I wanted to see Carine and Tobias again? I’d found out you see, that he’d married her.’ He began to stuff the second shoe, putting in too much newspaper, making the leather bulge. ‘Carine was the woman I loved. Tobias saved my life, and I had saved his. I came back because in all these years no one has replaced them. It wasn’t just idle curiosity, but I wanted to look at them. All right, not them – her. Only she saw me. I jumped on a tram. She ran and jumped on after me.’ His lips moved in the memory of a smile. ‘The conductor said, “Is this lady bothering you, sir?” I said that yes she was and he said, “This lady could bother me any time.” That was last year. We rode all the way to the terminus without speaking. Part of me knew then that there was not a tramline in the world long enough to take us anywhere. It was too late.’

  I took the shoes and set them down on the edge of the hearth, to give myself time to think. ‘And yet?’

  ‘Some feelings don’t change. She is the most astonishing and sensuous woman and she loved me, and I loved her. We were meant for each other and yet she had married an oaf, a eunuch. He could never be a proper husband.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  He raised his hands, holding them an inch from his scarred face. In a gesture of inclusion, he drew his hands down his chest and across his arms. ‘We all had different injuries, some like mine that you can see. Many of us shared the same injuries, of heart and mind. Tobias also had a bodily injury that prevented him from ever consummating a marriage. I am guessing that he did not tell Carine that. Perhaps he thought she was ignorant and would know no better. If he thought that, he was wrong.’

  ‘You could have gone away together.’

  ‘She is imprisoned by that studio. Don’t ask me to explain because I can’t. There are things about Carine that I don’t understand, that no one will ever understand. Sometimes, I’m afraid for her.’

  ‘And afraid for yourself?’

  He seemed relieved not to answer. At that moment, Derek put his head around the door. ‘Edward, you’re next to see the chief inspector.’

  Edward once more looked nakedly miserable. ‘Where do I start, Kate?’

  ‘We all harbour secrets and surprises. It’s part of being human. Tell him the truth. Answer his questions. He won’t condemn you for who you are. He wants to find out who killed Tobias.’

  A big dog lolloped into the room. For a mad moment, I imagined it to be our old dog, Constable, because this creature was also a bloodhound.

  ‘Whose dog are you?’

  It nuzzled my hand.

  When Sykes appeared, he made me jump.

  ‘What are you doing here, and why did you sneak up on me?’

  ‘I see you’ve met Failure.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Rosie said I shouldn’t call him that. He’s your parents’ dog, delivered on Friday.’ The dog wagged its tail. ‘He’s taken a liking to you.’ Sykes sounded a touch grieved. ‘I’m the one who’s been looking after him.’

  ‘So you came to bring me the dog?’

  ‘Not exactly. There’s something else. We’re at the far side of the garden. Rosie asked for an extra cup and sandwiches.’

  ‘You’ve picked an odd day to come.’

  ‘Yes I heard. The people at our table told us. We didn’t know what to think when they said one of the people from Leeds had died, though I knew something was amiss.’

  ‘It was Tobias Murchison, yesterday.’

  ‘The poor man. But we’re not here on a day out, or even to bring you the dog. I have some news too.’

  Like a spectator at a tennis match, the dog was looking from Sykes to me and back again. I patted its head. ‘Don’t look so worried. We’re not talking about you.’

  The dog lay down, wagging its tail, thumping the ground.

  At that moment, I did not think I could bear any more ‘news’. ‘Let’s have that cup of tea and sandwich, Mr Sykes.’

  ‘Right you are. I can’t say what I need to say in the garden, but we won’t leave the tea to go cold.’

  I relented. ‘Tell me now. I can’t bear the suspense.’

  He whispered about the discovery in the cellar.

  I wished he hadn’t. I should have been sitting down.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, as we walked through the garden. ‘Let’s put it aside and exchange
pleasantries over our refreshments. We’ll find a quiet spot later.’

  So it was that over ham sandwiches, Sykes told me about Mrs Sugden taking possession of the bloodhound, and of the drive from Leeds by way of Keighley. Rosie praised the bloodhound as having an equable temper. It certainly sat quietly enough. Given everything that had happened, I felt that the ham sandwich ought to have stuck in my throat, but it was surprisingly good. There is something pleasant about eating in the open air during an English summer. For just the shortest time it was possible to pretend that the events of yesterday, in Haworth and in Leeds, had never happened.

  Rosie decided to explore a little, and to see whether she might give a hand to the young woman who was run off her feet. ‘I’ll tell her I’m a friend of yours and used to work in a café.’

  ‘Her name is Miss Varey. Elisa.’

  Sykes and I also left the table, to find a quiet spot where we could talk. The dog placed itself between us and kept step.

  The accounts of Tobias’s death that Sykes had gleaned, from fellow day trippers in the garden, had been colourful but not entirely accurate.

  I told him what had passed, and listened to his account of finding a body in the studio cellar.

  ‘There can’t possibly be a connection, can there?’ Sykes asked.

  ‘I don’t see how. From what you say, that body could have been there for decades.’

  ‘I said that to Rosie, but I’ve no way of knowing. And that was not my only reason for coming, Mrs Shackleton.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Inspector Wallis came to the studio, in response to my telephone call about the body, but a constable in uniform arrived moments before him, acting to assist Scotland Yard. He and his sergeant wanted to make sure that the studio premises were secure and accessible, prior to a possible search. Now I understand why.’

  ‘Yes. I can imagine Mr Charles would have made those contacts with Leeds police before he left London. He’ll want to find out everything he can about society members, and their connection to Tobias.’

  ‘There’s something else.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘The young constable who brought the dog was the same chap who came to the studio. He made the connection that you and the Murchisons were all here, visiting Haworth. Unless Mr Charles is able to make an arrest soon, I expect he’ll order fishing expeditions – requesting search warrants for all of your properties.’

  ‘I really don’t want Leeds police poking about in our office files. And it would be unfortunate for society members to have their privacy invaded unless there’s a very good reason. Rita Rufus works for a fussy old pharmacist and lives above the shop. She already has a colourful reputation.’

  ‘And Mrs Sugden says Derek Blondell lives with his gran.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And I believe she is in poor health.’

  ‘Something like this could finish her off.’

  A call came over a loudhailer for someone to move the black Jowett. Sykes groaned. ‘I’ve been rumbled.’

  ‘I’ll move the car. You go to the house. If anyone asks about the owner, I’ll say that you’re with the chief inspector. As soon as I’ve moved it, we’ll speak to him.’

  Sykes walked towards the house. I set off to find what had once been my Jowett. I could understand why Sykes had it painted black, but I wished he hadn’t.

  As I drew nearer, I saw why I had to move the vehicle. It was blocking the way of a constabulary motor. In the back of that motor was Edward Chester.

  Elisa Varey was standing by the car, remonstrating with the driver.

  Edward was speaking to her through the closed window, but she was not looking.

  A swarm of bees went whirling by our heads towards the reservoir. I spoke aloud, ‘Oh goodness. Bees, please don’t leave. The Vareys need you.’

  Fortunately, Elisa did not see them go.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Ambient Light

  Marcus looked up from his notes. ‘Kate! I’ve spoken to Edward Chester and I expected Elisa Varey. Have you seen her, and does Mrs Varey, really exist?’

  ‘I’m sure Elisa will be up shortly.’ I decided not to mention the fact that she had been kept busy catering for ramblers and day trippers who had circumvented the police barrier at the bottom of the lane, and that she was objecting to police interest in Edward Chester.

  ‘I saw Edward Chester being driven away.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘To Keighley police station?’ He nodded. ‘As a suspect?’

  ‘Whatever else Chester has done, he didn’t kill Murchison. He was standing a little way behind you. The statements of people who are nearby all mention him, a man with a scarred face, upright like a soldier. There was a couple with two little children. The father hoisted one onto his shoulders and Edward Chester hoisted the other. Even the most determined killer would be hard pressed to stab a man in precisely the right place while balancing a child that clutched at his hair.’

  ‘Then why have you taken him into custody?’

  ‘I felt a false confession coming on and sent him packing. His belongings have gone with him. He’ll sit in a cell for a couple of hours before being escorted to the railway station and told not to come back unless sent for.’

  ‘So we won’t say goodbye, and he won’t see Carine.’

  ‘There’s no time for sad farewells. The man was an unnecessary complication.’ He straightened his notes. ‘You came in with the air of having something to tell me.’

  It took me a moment to answer, as I thought of Edward being ignominiously driven off and going back to an empty room. That seemed to me desperately harsh. ‘Marcus, something has come up that you need to know about. Mr Sykes has driven over from Leeds.’

  ‘If he has come to give you a lift back, I don’t want you to go – not yet.’

  ‘You will want to hear this.’ Briefly, I told him about Mrs Sugden being asked to help out in the photographic studio on Friday and Saturday. ‘I’ll let Mr Sykes tell you the rest.’ There was just one chair on my side of the desk. ‘Do you want me to sit in?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then, we need another chair. And don’t worry, I will call you Mr Charles and you will call me Mrs Shackleton. And please put your animosity towards Mr Sykes on one side.’

  ‘I have no animosity towards Sykes. I just don’t know why he left the force.’

  ‘And I don’t suppose you ever shall.’

  Marcus sighed. ‘Show him in, Mrs Shackleton.’ He brought another chair and set it opposite the desk.

  As I opened the door, Marcus saw the bloodhound on the landing. ‘Whose is that dog?’

  ‘He seems to think he belongs to me. Mr Sykes brought him over.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’ll explain later.’ I turned to Sykes. ‘Mr Sykes, we can go in now.’

  With his usual clarity, Sykes gave an account of discovering the body in the cellar of Carine’s Studio. He set the scene, how he had helped Mrs Sugden clear the cellar, shoving old film and newspapers into sacks, stacking photographic plates in a cupboard. ‘The work was interrupted whenever Failure here – sorry, he is not to be called Failure – whenever the nameless bloodhound galumphed into the cellar.’ We all looked at the dog. Sykes continued. ‘It kept pawing the wall along from the dark room. I decided to investigate. When I tapped that wall, I discovered that there was a different sound, hollow. A cupboard had been boarded and plastered over. I thought we might surprise the Murchisons by finding an additional useful space – until I saw the body.’

  When Sykes had finished his explanation, Marcus asked, ‘Are you able to say anything about the body? Age? Sex?’

  ‘From the clothing I’d say it was a woman and that she had been there a long time. I informed Leeds CID. Inspector Wallis arrived. There was a little confusion because a young constable arrived before him, to check the premises.’

  ‘I made that contact before I left London. I thought there may be some link to the stud
io.’

  Sykes reached into his inside jacket pocket. He turned to me. ‘Mrs Shackleton, I asked Mrs Sugden for a list of society members. She gave me the list, and copies of your correspondence with Ponden Hall, regarding the reservation.’

  I nodded, for him to give it to Marcus.

  Marcus took the list of names and the correspondence. ‘I need to speak to Carine Murchison before Leeds CID find her and start questioning her about the body in the cellar. I don’t want the woman tipping over the edge. And I also need a telephone.’

  Now that Sykes had said he thought the body might be that of a woman, the image came into my head of young Carine with her mother, the mother who went away and never came back. My mouth felt dry. I thought of the photograph, mother and daughter on the bench on Woodhouse Moor. The words would not come.

  Marcus glanced at me. ‘What is it, Mrs Shackleton? What’s on your mind?’

  ‘Something Carine told me, about her mother. I hope there’s no connection.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘When Carine was about five years old, her mother went away. She said she would come back for Carine, but she never did.’

  Marcus let out a noisy breath. ‘It’s Leeds CID that need to know this. We’re going to get into some kind of tangle, I can see it coming.’ He tapped his fingers on the table. ‘Mr Sykes, would you mind leaving us for a short time?’

  Sykes stood. ‘I’ll be downstairs.’ The dog looked from Sykes to me, and decided to stay put. Sykes got as far as the door, when Marcus spoke again.

  ‘Mr Sykes, would you kindly enquire where Miss Varey has got to? I need her statement.’

  When Sykes had left the room, Marcus said, ‘Kate, I appreciate what you said earlier regarding not wanting to speculate about your fellow photographers. And I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings through not ruling out Harriet on the grounds that she is your niece.’

  ‘That is not what I said.’

  He held up his hand. ‘I don’t want to fight with you. When I took the call about this case, it seemed straightforward. A man surrounded by hundreds of people is stabbed in broad daylight. Around him is a tight knot of individuals who must have seen something, but they might as well be blind, deaf and dumb.’