Ann Purser - The Hangman’s Row Enquiry

Roy suggested they have more brandy, and Theo refilled the glasses. He had brightened up considerably, and twinkled at bright-eyed Katya. “Did you say Miss Beasley sent you a text message, my dear?” he asked.

“Oh yes, Sir Roussel,” she said, and for one awful moment Ivy thought she was going to curtsey. “I have been teaching Miss Beasley the wonders of the mobile phone. She is willing student, I must stress.”

“Huh!” grunted Ivy. “Wretched things. Still, I suppose they have their uses, my dear,” she added gratefully, and patted Katya’s small hand.

IT WAS A sober foursome that left the Hall and made their way out to Deirdre’s car. Ivy and Roy settled in the back, and Gus said he would walk the few hundred yards back to Hangman’s Row. Deirdre sat still for a moment, not switching on the engine. “Don’t you want a coffee or something with me?” she said tentatively to Gus.

He shook his head and smiled at her. “I’ll ring you,” he said, “but first I have to call in at Hangman’s Row. Take care, all of you,” he added. “As soon as I know more, we’ll get together and wrap this whole thing up. Well done, you two,” he added, feeling a sudden lump in his throat as he looked at Ivy, still so straight and severe, and little old Roy once more holding her hand.

The car purred off down the lane, and he walked slowly after it. He made a mental note of the answers they still needed, and by the time he reached Miriam’s gate, he was ready for her.

“Gus?” she said, answering the door at once. “What on earth’s been going on at the Hall? Was that a police car? And Beattie in it? And who was the strange man? Come in, do, and tell me all.”

Gus realised that she was excited, pleased at the prospect of upheavals at the Hall. “I could do with a glass of your mother’s primrose wine,” he said, looking at his watch. He followed her into the neat sitting room. The first thing he looked for was the photograph of John Roussel, and there it was. He could have sworn the old sod winked at him.

He decided to come to the point. “Miriam, did you know your mother was one of John Roussel’s favourites?” Couldn’t put it more tactfully than that, he had decided.

She grinned. “Of course,” she said. “And like father, like son. Me and Theo, well, we were good pals, too!” Then her face fell. “Until Mum put a stop to it, o’course. Still, I could see it wouldn’t do. He’s my half brother, you know!” She giggled. “Sort of incest, I suppose you’d call it. Still, nobody else knew, Mum said, and made me swear not to tell. I didn’t mind after a bit. It was just nice to know I had a brother.”

“Did Theo know?”

Miriam made a face. “Mum said not, but I reckon he did, at some stage. She probably planned to tell him at some point to get a hold over him. When he stopped coming to see me, she said it was his doing, not hers, so maybe he’d found out somehow else. Not a nice woman, my mother. Shame really. You’re supposed to love your mother, but I can’t say I did.”

“But you didn’t kill her, did you?” he asked gently.

“O’course not! I wasn’t there. I’d gone into the village, to the shop. Came back and found her dead, lying there with a knife stuck in her chest. One thing I’m really sure of, Gus. Theo Roussel didn’t kill her. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“So why do you think the police have taken Beattie in?” Gus knocked back his primrose wine in preparation for the worst.

“Goodness knows. Got it wrong, I expect. I’m just waiting for them to find out about me.”

“What about you?”

“About me and Theo, of course. And that Mum had-oh lor, I suppose I have to say it-procured me for him, offering her one and only daughter for the amusement of the young squire. Why? Because of the money. I could be due part of the estate, Mum thought. That’s what drove her on, I reckon, after Theo inherited, trying to get something out of him. She’d have been satisfied with a lump sum, she said once. She was not the sort to go to court.”

Gus let out a heavy sigh. “Just as well,” he said. “You weren’t the only one, Miriam. The old man was the father of Beattie and her twin brother Keith. It was Keith in the police car. He’s turned up only recently, mad as a hatter, but I reckon they were up to much the same as your mother. Choosing their moment to trap Theo, and get money out of him. Enough for their pensions, I expect. No doubt they, too, thought they were entitled to it.”

“I kept telling Mum what I’d guessed about Beattie!” Miriam said hotly. “But she said she didn’t care, and just went on her own sweet way, as always. Blimey, you only have to look at Beattie standing next to me! Sisters, no doubt of it.”

“So your mother finally got in the way?” Gus helped himself to more wine.

“She got greedy, I suppose. Maybe threatened to tell all she knew about Beattie’s background if she carried on?” She frowned, finally serious. “But I don’t think Beattie would’ve done the murder, either. She’s been quite nice to me lately,” she added, as if that clinched it.

“So it could have been the brother, or maybe the two of them together?”

“Search me,” Miriam said. “Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe we’ll never know. D’you want to stay for supper? I’ve got chicken pie in the oven.”

GUS STAYED FOR supper. He learned nothing more, but not needing to listen to her inconsequential chatter, he turned over in his mind all she had said in answer to his questions. He did not agree that neither Theo nor Beattie would have murdered the old lady. Either of them could have done it, and Keith, too. If they had planned it carefully, watching until Miriam set off for the shop and, knowing her propensity for endless gossiping, they would have had time enough to get in, stab the nasty old woman, and get out again, vanishing back up to the Hall, or into the countryside around.

Motive was another matter. It was more than probable that, as Miriam said, Mrs. Blake had regarded Beattie as a competitor for the estate and was blackmailing her, trying to frighten her off. This would have put Keith in jeopardy also, and the madman would have had no compunction about knifing his enemy.

Gus reluctantly came to the conclusion that Theo had no real reason to want the old woman dead. After all, many moons had gone by since his affair with Miriam. He had probably forgotten the whole thing, and carried on his merry way with other girls, other adventures.

Well, now the police had the whole thing in their hands, and there was no need for Enquire Within to do anything more. Had the agency been a good idea? They had never received the commission from Theo Roussel to pursue the enquiry for him. Things had just developed piecemeal, with no fat fee for them at the end of it. “Cheer up, Gus! The worst may never happen,” Miriam said gaily.

“It already has,” Gus said seriously. “Your mother has been murdered, Miss Beasley and Mr. Goodman have had the fright of their lives, and sad details of wasted lives have come to the surface.”

“Ah, yes,” Miriam said, “but let’s look to the future, Gus. You and me? That’s possible, isn’t it?” She looked at him lovingly, and got up to put her hand on his shoulder.

Anything’s possible, thought Gus, except that! He patted her hand, and stood up. “Must be getting back,” he said. “I’m dog tired, Miriam.”

“Tomorrow’s another day,” she chirped. “Who knows what might happen tomorrow?”