Beth sat forward. ‘That makes sense. Swiss said that, when his colleague went to sit down on specific chairs, Christie screamed at him. I’ll bet you they were the chairs Gwen used. I mean, most people sit in the same place, don’t they?’
‘So,’ added James, ‘he’s cut up about his wife’s death. Being eaten up from the inside by the sounds of it. He ups sticks to Cavendish to live in the house his wife begged him to move to when she was alive. It’s as if he’s trying to make it up to her.’
George grunted that this was how he saw it. ‘Poor bloke. We all put him down for being a stubborn old man, but there was a reason behind some of that behaviour.’
James gritted his teeth. How he wished he could let George know about Locksmith Joe. It was clear that Christie was been so riddled with guilt he was slowly destroying himself, while trying to make amends. Unfortunately, he went about it the wrong way. He drummed his fingers on the desk.
‘What about the nurse?’
‘She was a trainee back then, but she remembered the incident because she didn’t believe the story they gave.’ George pushed tobacco into the pipe bowl. ‘Christie made up some story about playing with knives. She was intimidated by him and he threatened her before they left.’
‘Threatened her?’
George went on to tell how Christie threatened to harm those she loved if she ever thought about reporting it.
‘If it happened now, she said she would have called the police straight away. But she was young, still training and didn’t want to make a scene.’
He lit the pipe. ‘It was a deep gash, needed a few stitches. She told them that he should keep coming back to have dressings changed and make sure it was kept clean, but she never saw them again.’
‘So, there’d be a scar?’ asked James.
‘Yes, and it damaged some muscle. The nurse said she’d be surprised if there wasn’t a slight limp.’ George dragged his chair forward and put his elbows on the desk. ‘Right, at least I have something tangible. When I confront the alleged Calvin, I can insist on seeing the scar. That’ll prove this theory beyond reasonable doubt.’
‘Unfortunately,’ said James, ‘it doesn’t prove he’s a murderer, just that he’s assumed another identity.’
‘And where is the real Calvin?’ asked George. ‘Your chap Kushal seemed to think he’d booked passage. I’ll need to check Calvin’s passport.’
‘Haven’t you done that?’
‘Unfortunately not,’ replied George. ‘And I’m sure my superior won’t let me forget it.’
James held up a finger. ‘Well, fortunately for you, I am a little ahead. Both Kushal and my contact at Somerset House, Gerald Crabtree, have contacts in Bombay.’
Gerald Crabtree had proved to be a useful acquaintance since their meeting in the spring. His access to family archives was invaluable. ‘I made a point of contacting them yesterday.’ He checked his watch. ‘Shall I telephone and see if they’ve found anything out?’
George pushed the phone toward him. James’ first port of call was Gerald Crabtree. On learning that James was with the police, Gerald dispensed with the pleasantries and went straight to the facts.
‘My counterpart at the records office has checked and double-checked marriages and deaths over the last two years. Obviously, there have been a number but he can’t find anything under the name of Cameron. Would he have used a pseudonym?’
‘I doubt it,’ said James. ‘If anything, he’d want that name on the certificate to please his father.’
‘In that case, I’m not sure that I can be of any help.’
James hid his disappointment and thanked Gerald. After imparting the news to Beth and George, he dialled Kushal’s number.
‘Ah, James, you are the person I was just thinking of calling.’
‘Splendid, I’m with George at the moment. Do you have any news?’
‘Calvin Cameron is still in Bombay.’
James almost dropped the receiver. ‘Still in Bombay…?’ Beth and George stared at him. ‘Oh Lord... When did this happen?’ James mimed holding an invisible pen at George who thrust a pencil into his hand. He scribbled down ‘May.’ ‘And the prognosis?’ He scribbled some more.
‘This is of some help to you, James?’
‘Most informative, Kushal. Thank you so much. I’ll be in touch.’ James replaced the receiver slowly. Beth pushed him to speak up.
‘Calvin Cameron is in a hospital in Bombay. He was struck down by a mysterious illness. He’s been in and out of hospital since May. However, for the last month, he’s been confined to his bed. They’re concerned about the long-term prognosis. The doctors have hinted that he may lose his life.’
‘Oh no,’ said Beth.
George remained silent. James studied the pad.
‘May, this year,’ continued James thoughtfully. ‘That’s when he was admitted to hospital. That coincides with the letters changing from handwritten to type. I believe Josh took over corresponding with Boyd. He knew how much Boyd meant to Calvin so he continued writing.’ He looked at George. ‘That’s what changed. That’s why Calvin wanted Boyd over there – to see him before he dies.’
James slammed the desk with his hand and brought out the slip of paper he’d found on the stairwell. ‘‘...shadow has cast itself upon us. That abominable man wants to come between us but we won’t let it. You know we can’t let it. Love is too powerful to be defeated. I will do anything and I will for that love to...’ He threw the paper down. ‘This isn’t a letter from Lucy. This is from Josh to Calvin. This is the inappropriate affair. The forbidden love that so sickened Christie.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
After stopping for tea in Lewes, they took a slow drive back to Cavendish. Beth suggested they call in at the vicarage.
‘Good idea. We can see how Stephen is faring after his attack.’ As they entered Cavendish, James sped past the vicarage and parked outside the library.
‘Why have you stopped here?’ asked Beth.
‘I want to check the airline timetables to see if they match what Calvin said.’
The library, a converted terraced cottage, gave off the delightful musty smell of books and buzzed with activity. Mr Chrichton had brought one of his classes over and the excited children were picking out books from the junior section to take back to school. Charlie left the boys and girls to it and welcomed James and Beth.
‘What brings you here?’
‘I wondered if we could take a look at the timetables you have for the airlines?’
Charlie told them to follow him up the stairs to a small reference section. One shelf was full of bus, train and airline timetables, along with ferry and tide information. He pulled out two books and put them on a small desk.
‘This covers the global network. You thinking of going away?’
‘I wish we were,’ said Beth, who added that James wanted to check Calvin’s itinerary.
‘Good luck with that. It’s a real trek from India to England. I bet he had to change a few times, too.’
James agreed. ‘Do you have a pen and paper?’
‘In the table drawer. Help yourself. I’d best get downstairs and stamp some of these books out for the kiddies.’
Charlie left them to it and James and Beth sat down on two wobbly wooden chairs.
‘I say, do you have the itinerary George gave you?’ said James.
Beth reached into her handbag and brought out a sheet of paper. She unfolded it and placed it on the table.
‘The first flight he took was from Bombay to Delhi on 19th September departing at 09:45.’
James flicked through the flimsy pages and examined the small print. He pressed his index finger to the schedules column and slowly followed it down.
‘Here we are, Bombay to Delhi – nine forty-five. Where next?’
‘Delhi to Beirut. That left at two in the afternoon.’
He flicked through the pages again and found the desired column. Scanning the entries, he saw that the fli
ght did exist. Beth read out the next flight.
‘Beirut to Paris. That left the following day at eleven-thirty in the morning.’
James checked again. ‘Yes, that one’s there too.’ He slammed the timetable shut. Beth frowned.
‘This is a fruitless exercise, Beth. Our man Calvin – or, rather, Josh – is not a stupid man. The information he’s given to George will check out. The only way he could have been in the country to murder Christie is if he changed his flight.’
‘But wouldn’t George have checked his travel arrangements?’
‘I’m certain that Josh killed Cameron. George’s people checked his travel, but I wonder if they slipped up?’
‘But how?’ asked Beth. ‘He can’t have travelled on an earlier flight and then checked in for one a few days later. That’s impossible.’
James scratched his head. Something was nagging at him and he wished to goodness it would produce an idea. He knew there was an answer to this, but it shied away from his conscious thinking.
They heard Charlie trot back up the stairs. ‘Everything all right?’
James returned the books to the shelf. ‘Yes, fine thanks. I need to make a call. Is there a telephone in the library?’
‘Closest one is the phone box on the corner.’
‘Not to worry, we’re just off to the Merryweathers. I’ll call in a favour from him. Come along, darling.’
Five minutes later, Anne ushered them into their front room and she and Beth went to the kitchen to prepare coffee and cake. James sat on the armchair opposite Stephen and asked after his health.
‘Full recovery, th-thank you.’ Stephen reached across, picked up a folded sheet of paper and handed it to James, who flicked it open.
‘Dear Rev, Sorry I hurt you. I thought the house would be empty for a bit. Hope you are all right. Joe.’
James couldn’t help but smile. Bert’s description of Locksmith Joe’s character was spot on. He wouldn’t hurt a fly and just knowing he’d pushed Stephen a little too hard had prompted a written apology.
‘Y-you really believe him to be innocent?’ asked Stephen.
‘Most certainly,’ replied James. Radley, the springer spaniel, leapt on him. ‘Ah, hello young Radley.’ He fondled the dog’s ears. ‘They are incredibly affectionate, aren’t they? I wouldn’t mind a little pooch myself, to be honest.
‘I say, would you mind if I used your telephone? I have a contact at BOAC and I believe he may be able to help me.’
Stephen said he should do whatever was necessary. As he got to the hall, Anne peered round the kitchen door.
‘Oh gosh, is this to do with your investigation?’
He smiled at her. She really did relish a mystery. Beth joined her as he picked up the receiver and placed some coins by the phone for the call.
‘I wondered if Ronnie Pickering was in his office,’ he said to Beth. ‘He may be able to find out a little more about these flights. You carry on and I’ll join you in a few minutes.’
They went through to the front room as James placed his call. Five minutes later he returned, rubbing his hands.
Anne was the first to react. ‘Goodness, have you found something out?’
‘Not yet, but Ronnie has a number of contacts in the industry. I’ve left dates and names with him and he’s going to get back to me. They need to check back on passenger lists for Calvin and Josh.’
‘W-why are y-you interested in J-Josh?’ asked Stephen.
James almost choked on his coffee. ‘You don’t know, do you?’ He and Beth spent the next thirty minutes telling them the news about Calvin and Josh and the altercation between Christie and Locksmith Joe.
Their friends sat in silence and, from their open-mouthed expressions, it was clear they found it difficult to process the information. The questions then came thick and fast and both James and Beth did their best to answer them. Stephen expressed his shock over the revelation of Locksmith Joe.
‘And you b-believe him?’
‘Absolutely, especially after the story Swiss told us. Christie Cameron seemed to be a somewhat volatile man and became more so after his wife was killed. He showed the classic signs of a man racked with guilt.’
‘A-and to stab your own s-son...’ Stephen deliberated on this for a moment. ‘And you think that Christie Cameron may have held onto the camera?’
James shrugged. ‘I honestly don’t know. However, judging by his behaviour since his wife’s death, I’d say it’s hidden somewhere. Bert and I did our best to search the house but we couldn’t find anything. And it wasn’t hard – there’s hardly anything there.’
Anne shuddered. ‘The boys were sneaking around the Cory House grounds last week and said there was a rubbish tip at the back.’
‘Yes,’ James said. ‘I saw that after we discovered Stephen. There was quite a lot of junk there – old clothes, shoes and oil cans.’
‘Sweetie,’ said Beth, ‘if the clothes were old, they obviously brought those with them, so there’s still hope that the camera may be there.’
‘U-unless it all b-belonged to the previous owner?’ put in Stephen.
‘I guess. That’s where they found Boyd’s scarecrow outfit.’
James’ clicked his thumb and finger. ‘Of course! It’s just dawned on me what that glue was that I found in that rubbish tip.’ He met Beth’s eyes. ‘Spirit glue.’
‘The theatrical glue? For the moustache and sideburns?’
‘Yes.’ He sat forward. ‘And those hobnail boots. I thought I’d seen them before because there are so many scuff marks on them. I’m sure, if we look at those photographs George had developed, we’ll see our suspect dressed up in those old clothes and boots. He would have used sheep’s wool to resemble a beard. There were plenty of overcoats on that pile of rubble. He only had to put a couple on and he would immediately take on the appearance of a larger man.’
‘If that’s what happened, then Josh is our murderer,’ said Anne.
James was quick to argue the point. ‘What about Lucy? She’s as tall as Josh. She had opportunity and motive. She benefits from the will.’
‘And not o-one person recognises Josh?’
‘The last time anyone saw Calvin, he would have been around fifteen – ten years have gone by. He and Josh have gone from scrawny boys to strapping men. That’s an awfully long time to hold on to an image.’
‘And,’ Beth put in, ‘if you study the few photographs of Calvin and Josh in Bombay, they’re remarkably similar in build and expression. They could easily pass themselves off as brothers.’
‘The photographs are quite grainy,’ continued James. ‘Boyd and the girls have assumed Josh is Calvin. They have no reason to believe otherwise.’
Beth reminded everyone that Josh would have known Boyd. ‘After all, he and Calvin were great friends at school, so it’s not as if he had to memorise anything.’
Stephen rested back in his chair. Radley hopped up and nestled next to Anne, who suddenly sat up straight.
‘What are you going to do? Confront him?’
‘George is going across to speak with him,’ replied James. ‘But I’m sure he’ll have a reason for taking on Calvin’s identity and it won’t include murder. We simply have no proof. It’s all hypothetical. I’m not sure that you can charge someone with impersonation.’ He turned to Beth. ‘I can’t sit here pondering. I have to try something else. Shall we have a word with Lucy? Do you think she knows more than she’s letting on?’
‘Won’t she be at work?’
‘Even better. I’d rather not have Josh in the vicinity, if truth be told.’
‘But what if she’s in on it?’ asked Anne.
‘Well, she’s not going to do anything in an office,’ replied James. ‘If she does admit to murder, we’ll keep her there and call the police.’
After finishing their coffee and cake, James and Beth began their journey to Hove.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Alliance Insurance was situated two streets back f
rom the seaside promenade in Hove. The typing pool consisted of approximately thirty women frantically striking the keys for their respective managers and directors. The noise deafened James as he and Beth followed the office manager, Mr Smythe, into the area. Smythe scanned the pool and held a finger up in recognition. He asked that James and Beth remain where they were. He strode to the middle of the room where Lucy Braithwaite was typing furiously. Beth sidled up to James.
‘It’s a wonder these women can hear themselves think in here.’
James agreed as Lucy waved to them. She gathered her things and followed Smythe as he walked toward them.
‘Lord Harrington, Lady Harrington. What a surprise.’
She seemed flustered, avoided eye contact and secured a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. Smythe led them along a corridor and into his office. He checked his watch.
‘I’ve a few errands to run so you can have this place for half an hour. Do you want a drink? The tea lady’s due to come round in a while.’
They declined. Smythe pulled the door to and James arranged three chairs in a circle and asked Lucy to join them. She sat down and bit her lip.
‘Is everything all right?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Has someone been arrested? Have they picked up Locksmith Joe? He did it, didn’t he?’
James glanced at Beth, who was equally surprised at the accusation, then returned his attention to Lucy.
‘Why would you think that, Lucy?’
Her eyes darted between the pair of them. ‘Well, isn’t it obvious? He’s in the area. He’s come back to kill everyone else.’
‘Why would Locksmith Joe want to kill everyone else?’
‘Because he killed Auntie Gwen. He’s a madman. Uncle Christie testified against him. He escaped so he could do away with us. He’s followed them here.’
James crossed his legs and studied the seam in his trousers. ‘Were you happy to see Calvin again?’
Lord James Harrington and the Autumn Mystery Page 18