Ann Purser - The Hangman’s Row Enquiry

“Whoa!” Gus said. “Are you saying you got nothing out of Theo Roussel, nothing about Beattie in the early days?”

Deirdre nodded. “Nothing at all, I’m afraid. Poor dear was obviously not feeling well. I’ll try again next Saturday. He should be feeling better by then. Rose suggested telling him I would be back. Said it would help him recover more quickly, bless him.”

“So what else is there to talk about?” Gus said grumpily. Perhaps he should recover more quickly himself, and get out of here and galvanise these two into some urgent action.

“Names,” Ivy said.

“What names?” said Deirdre. She had never told so many barefaced lies before-white lies, an annoyed Ivy had called them-but felt relieved now that Ivy’s reluctantly concocted plan had worked. Gus was looking distinctly cross, but he seemed to have swallowed her excuses.

Their discussion took a more positive turn, and Ivy filled Deirdre in with what she and Gus had gleaned from Roy Goodman. “We need to do some serious research into that news story of the missing woman. It’s just a hunch,” Gus said, “but Ivy and I had the same thought that it has something to do with Beattie. The connection so far is that ancient news story ringed in red. Must’ve meant something important to Roy’s family. We need to know the exact name of the woman, and of the children she left, and what happened later. Now, the best research tool these days is the Internet.” He paused, waiting for a reaction.

“What about the reference library?” Ivy said, who had an uninformed distrust of the Internet. “Nothing wrong with reference libraries,” she said. She remembered from the distant past a woman from the local reference library coming to talk to Round Ringford WI. She had droned on a bit, and some members had had a refreshing nap, but Ivy had been interested.

Deirdre shook her head. “We haven’t got time, Ivy,” she said. “The police must be getting on with their investigations and I’ve seen Inspector Frobisher around the village several times. We don’t want Enquire Within to be beaten to the winning post. No, Gus is right. I’m computer literate,” she added proudly. “Why don’t we all get together at Tawny Wings this afternoon and start a search?”

“Better than a boring walk with a member of staff, especially if it’s Miss Pinkney and not adoring Katya,” Ivy said slyly. “I agree with Deirdre, if you’re up to it, Augustus.”

They agreed there was no further business for the meeting, and went back to the residents’ lounge, where they found Roy Goodman doing the Guardian quick crossword. “Morning everybody,” he said. “Have I missed something? Afraid I have only just got up. Sit ye down, and I’ll read out the clues. Keeps the Alzheimer’s at bay, you know, exercising the old grey matter.”

Deirdre quickly excused herself, saying she had to go into town to visit her old lady. She would see them at Tawny Wings at two thirty sharp. Ivy said that if anyone asked her, she would say that crossword puzzles were a complete waste of time, and anyway, she had some letters to write in her room, which left Gus to keep the old man company. Before she went, she asked solicitously if she should order a taxi to take Gus to Deirdre’s house, but he said the short walk would do him good.

“Four across,” said Roy, “six letters, one word, ‘killer or slang for a drink.’ ”

“Poison,” said Gus. “Next.”

BEATTIE’S HEADACHE HAD finally vanished, and she had awoken feeling refreshed for the first time in days. She was downstairs preparing breakfast when Mr. Theo walked into her kitchen, a smile on his face.

“Lovely morning, Beattie!” he said.

She had thought endlessly about how she was to tackle the new Theo Roussel, and had decided to go along with him, being pleasant and encouraging. She had no alternative, she concluded. Her quarrel was not, after all, with Mr. Theo. It was with the Bloxham woman, and she was confident in her ability to outwit her without too much trouble. If only she was not so alone, she had thought in the middle of the night. There was one person who would understand, but she dismissed that thought immediately. A real friend, not necessarily a confidante, would be so consoling. But she had brought friendlessness on herself over the years, and she was not sure how to reverse this, now that she needed someone.

Rose Budd? No, she wasn’t much more than a girl, and they had nothing in common. Miss Beasley at Springfields? But wasn’t she a cousin of the Bloxham woman? No, that wouldn’t do. Miriam Blake? Ah, now, there was a woman of her own age, and also in trouble. Some said real trouble, but Beattie had no worries about that. It might even give her a hold over Miss Miriam. And they had several things in common. They had both lived in the village for years, and from what she had heard, they had both been more than interested in Mr. Theo and in the future of his estate. She could even hint that they might come to some compromise over Miriam’s rent.

“What plans for today, Mr. Theo?” she said with a friendly smile.

“Out and about, I think,” he said. “Weather’s too good to stay indoors. I shall be in for lunch, but possibly out for dinner. I will let you know later on. And you, Beattie, what have you got planned?”

“Oh, I thought I might invite a friend for tea, if that is convenient,” she said.

“Ah, who would that be?” he asked. He could have sworn Beattie had no friends, either in the village or anywhere else.

“Why, Miriam, of course. Miriam Blake,” she said.

AFTER A GOOD lunch of lamb chops, mint sauce, peas and mash, Ivy and Gus set off slowly up the road towards Tawny Wings.

“What a pair,” said Ivy grimly, as she stumped along, rapping her stick rhythmically on the pavement for support. Gus also had a stick, but his was more for show than from necessity. He had a pang of conscience as he saw how determinedly Ivy pushed herself to use legs that would much rather have been idle.

“Nearly there,” he said, remembering his childhood, when his mother had said those words every time they were on a journey, no matter how short a distance they had actually gone. “I am sure Deirdre will have a restoring cuppa for us both. I’m looking forward to our research,” he added. “I’ve been thinking of getting a computer myself.”

“What stopped you?” Ivy said. She knew how much computers cost, and was pretty sure Gus had no spare cash. Not that she was thinking of buying him one! Nor, for that matter, of lending him money.

His reply surprised her. His tone was serious when he answered. “Security. In my line of business, security meant everything. And even though I understand users are told their details are secure, I wouldn’t risk it.”

“What details?” Ivy said curiously. She had decided early on that Gus was probably exaggerating the importance of his “line of business.” Maybe a lowly security guard, but nothing more vital than that.

“Oh, you know, personal details, bank account numbers, pin numbers and pass codes, all that stuff. As far as I can make out, you put all that secret information on a computer and it goes off through the ether to God knows where!”

“Don’t blaspheme, please,” Ivy said automatically, as they turned into the driveway and made their way to the front door of Tawny Wings.

Half an hour later, the three were ranged around Deirdre’s computer screen. Ivy had to squint to make out the flickering words on-screen. “What’s Google?” she said suspiciously.

“A search engine,” said Deirdre blandly. She actually had no idea where the engine came in, but knew what Google could do for her. It could search miraculously until it produced undreamed-of information about any given subject.