Ann Purser - The Hangman’s Row Enquiry

“Calm down, dear,” Gus said. No point in alarming her. She was good company, and he did not want her to duck out of their investigation in fright.

“A Mrs. Bentall? Caroline, did you say?” The girl behind the library desk was young, blond, and wore glasses that in no way detracted from the fact that she was very pretty. Gus took over. “It was quite a sensational case in the seventies, I believe,” he said. “We were interested in the history of Oakbridge, and came across this story. Curiosity was roused! You know how it is,” he added persuasively.

The girl was used to men chatting her up over the desk, and said shortly that curiosity killed the cat, but she would ask her colleague, who was of an age to remember.

While they were waiting, Gus and Deirdre wandered round, looking at the book displays. “Here, Gus, look at this,” Deirdre said suddenly. She pointed to a framed photograph on the wall. It was of a stalwart-looking man with a mayoral chain and stern expression. Underneath was a testimonial to his excellent work for the town during his term of office. His name was Geoffrey Harold Bentall.

“I see you’ve found Caroline’s father,” said a voice from behind them. A neat, grey-haired woman stood looking up at the photograph. “He was a popular man in the town. Responsible for all kinds of modern developments. Mind you, he was a builder himself, so some said he did pretty well out of all the new blocks of flats and terraces of small houses! Why are you interested in poor Caroline?”

Deirdre repeated Gus’s story that they were interested in the history of the town-such an interesting old place-and had come across the story of the missing mother of two. They were curious to know what had happened. “Just curiosity,” Deirdre said. “It must have been so sad for the two little girls.”

The librarian frowned. “So what are you going to do when you’ve found out?” she said. She could spot a reporter from one of the gossip rags from twenty paces.

Gus thought quickly, and said that actually he was a novelist, and was always interested in odd stories. Not that he ever used actual names or places, he assured her. His plots always started with a curious happening, or character, or sometimes from a place, as in his last book, which had been inspired by an old church in the middle of a field, he explained, warming to his invention.

“How interesting,” she said. “Well, if you like to come into my office, I could give you a few details.”

“I WONDER HOW they’re getting on,” Roy Goodman said to Ivy, as they sat over the cribbage board. He had accompanied her to the shop, sat at the same table at lunch, and had stayed close by for the rest of the day. Now they were in the lounge, and the light was fading from the sky.

“Back home, I should think,” said Ivy. She had known it was unlikely, but she had hoped one of them might have come in to report, or at least telephoned.

“And one for his knob,” she said, counting up her hand of cards.

“Ivy!” said Deirdre, coming in on a cloud of expensive perfume. “Did I hear aright?”

“Don’t be silly,” said Ivy. “You know perfectly well I was counting up points. Is Gus with you?” she added.

“No. Feeling tired, he said, after our long day. He’s gone home to bed. I put a hot water bottle in it, and he should be well away by now.”

“And I suppose he said you weren’t to tell us about your day until he could be here, too?”

Deirdre agreed. “Yep, he did say something like that. But I thought I’d just look in to say hello. How are you, Mr. Goodman?” she added. “Have you two been busy?”

Ivy raised her eyebrows. “Well, yes we have. But we can’t say much about it until Augustus is with us. We don’t really want to have to say everything twice, do we, Roy?”

“MY PLACE OR yours?” Gus had said lightly to Deirdre next morning. They were deciding where to meet Ivy. Deirdre had called in at Rose Budd’s for some free-range eggs, and nipped along to the end of the terrace to see how he was feeling after all yesterday’s excitement.

“I suppose we could go to Springfields as usual this afternoon. Still, there’s more room at Tawny Wings,” she answered. “Easy for Ivy to get to. She can just about manage to walk up, with her stick. She likes an outing.”

“What about Roy?” Gus said. He had really liked the old man, and had not missed the disappointed look on his face when he thought he would be left out from now on.

“What d’you think? No harm in him joining us, if he can make it up to my house.”

Gus said he thought the old boy would be quite an asset with all his local knowledge. “I’ll call for him,” he said. “They’ve probably got a wheelchair we can borrow.”

“Dare you show your face at Springfields detention centre?”

Gus laughed. “There you are then,” he said. “How could we leave out the old boy when that’s how he thinks of it?”

“Answer the question,” Deirdre said. “Dare you show your face to Mrs. Spurling after she practically evicted you?”

“I’ve dealt with worse than Mrs. S. in my time. Just watch me.”

Deirdre said she would look forward to that, and departed.

WHEN GUS CALLED Ivy to tell her he’d collect both of them to walk to Deirdre’s, he nervously asked if Mrs. S. would be on duty. She said he needn’t worry because Mrs. Spurling had a day off to go to a funeral. “It’ll be Miss Pinkney in charge,” she said, “and for some reason she seems to like you. Said it wasn’t the same without Mr. Halfhide keeping them all amused.”

Gus sighed dramatically. “I can’t help it, Ivy,” he said. “I have this effect on elderly spinsters.”

“Well, here’s one who can resist,” Ivy said tartly, and ended the call.

As Gus chuckled and put down the phone, there was a gentle knock at his door. He knew immediately who it would be, and thought of hiding. But no, he had to let her in sooner or later, so it might as well be now.

“Gus! How are you?” It was Miriam, looking really very presentable, and clutching a large box of chocolates. She thrust them at him and said she had been so worried, and not been able to find out what had happened.

“Come in,” he said, trying to make it sound welcoming. “Have a seat. What lovely chocolates! Thank you so much. Shall we have one to celebrate my homecoming?”

Miriam relaxed. She had been nervous about calling on him, not sure how she would be received. Since her abortive visit to Miss Beasley, she had begun to suspect something was going on between Gus, the old girl at Springfields, and that smart woman at Tawny Wings. And Rose Budd was involved, too. As for Theo, he seemed to have taken leave of his senses, according to report. More likely he had come to them at last, Miriam had thought privately. Was there hope for her after all?

Then there had been that invitation to tea at the Hall, and Beattie had treated her like royalty. Bosom friends was what she apparently had in mind. Miriam’s thoughts were in a whirl, and she hoped to gain some enlightenment from Gus.

“I do hope you weren’t frightened by my tumble,” Gus said. Miriam might have seen something from her watching position by the window?

“I think I must have been out,” she said now. “I didn’t hear anything, unfortunately. These old cottages must be more soundproof than I thought. The first I knew of it was after you’d been taken away in the ambulance. The whole village was buzzing with it next morning.”

“I don’t think I yelled. I was out cold when Mrs. Bloxham found me.”