Dorothy Sayers - Busman’s Honeymoon

‘Of course,’ said Kirk. ‘I suppose you didn’t think of asking her on Sunday when she came over to play the organ in church?’

The?’ said Mrs Ruddle, quite affronted. Tm chapel.

They’re out and gone by the time we finish. Not but what I ‘ave been to church now and again, but there ain’t nothing to show for it. Up and down, up and down, as if one’s knees wasn’t wore out with scrubbing on week-days and a pore little bit of a sermon with no ‘eart in it. Mr Goodacre’s a very kind gentleman and friendly to all, I ain’t sayin’ a word agin’ ‘im, but I’m chapel and always was, and that’s the other end of the village, which by the time I was back here, they’ve all gone ‘ome and Aggie Twitterton on ‘er bicycle. So you see I couldn’t ketch ‘er, not if I wanted ever so.’

‘Of course you couldn’t.’ said Kirk. ‘All right. Well, you” didn’t try to let Miss Twitterton know. I suppose you mentioned in the village that Mr Noakes was away?’

‘I dare say I did,’ admitted Mrs Ruddle. ‘It wasn’t nothing out o’ the way.’

You told us,’ put in Peter, ‘that he’d gone by the bus at 10 o’clock.’

‘So I thought ‘e ‘ad.’ said Mrs Ruddle.

‘And that would seem natural, so there would be no inquiries. Did anybody call for Mr Noakes during the week?’

‘Only Mr Goodacre. I see him on Thursday morning, poking about the place, and he sees me and hollers out, “Is Mr Noakes away?’ “That’s right,” I says, “gone over to Broxford,” I says. And he says, “I’ll call another day,” he says. I don’t remember as nobody come after him.’

‘Then last night,’ resumed Kirk, ‘when you let this lady and gentleman in, did you find everything as usual?’

‘That’s right. Exceptin’ ‘is dirty supper things on the table where ‘e’d left them. ‘E allus ‘ad ‘is supper at ‘ar-par’-seven reg’lar. Then ‘e’d set in the kitchen with the paper till ‘e came in ‘ere for the noos at 9.30. Very reg’lar ‘e was, a very reg’lar sort of man.’

Kirk beamed. This was the kind of information he was looking for.

‘So he’d had his supper. But his bed hadn’t been slept in?’ a ‘No, it ‘adn’t. But of course I put on clean sheets for the I lady and gentleman. I ‘ope I knows what’s proper. Them,’ explained Mrs Ruddle, anxious to make things clear, ‘wos the week-before’s sheets, wot wos all dried and ready Wednesday, but I couldn’t take ‘em in, along of the ‘ouse being’ shet up. So I ‘ad them all put aside neat in me kitchen, and I didn’t ‘ave to do more than put them to the fire a minnit and there they wos, all aired and fit for the King and Queen of England.’

‘That helps us a lot,’ said Kirk. ‘Mr Noakes ate his supper at 7.30, so presumably he was alive then.’ He glanced at Peter, but Peter was offering no further embarrassing suggestions about murderers who ate their victims’ suppers, and the Superintendent was encouraged to proceed. ‘He didn’t go to bed, so that gives us-When did he usually go to bed, Mrs Ruddle, do you know?’

‘Eleven o’clock, Mr Kirk, reg’lar as clockwork, ‘e’d switch off the wireless and I’d see ‘is candle go upstairs to bed. I can see ‘is bedroom from my back winder, plain enough.’

‘Ah! now, Mrs Ruddle, just you cast your mind back to Wednesday night. Do you recollect seeing his candle go upstairs to bed?’

‘Well, there!’ exclaimed Mrs Ruddle, ‘now you comes to mention of it, Mr Kirk, I did not. Which I remember saying to my Bert only the next day, “There,” I says, “if I’d only kep’ awake, I mighter known ‘e’d gone off, alonger seein’ ‘is bedroom winder dark. But there!” I says, “I was that wore out, I dropped off the moment me ‘ead was on the piller.”’

‘Oh, well,’ said Kirk, disappointed, ‘it don’t really matter. Seeing as his bed wasn’t slept in, it’s likely he was downstairs when ‘

(Thank God! thought Peter. Not in my lady’s chamber.)

Mrs Ruddle interrupted with a sharp screech. ‘Oh. lor, Mr Kirk! There now!’

‘Have you thought of something?’

Mrs Ruddle had, and her expression, as her eyes wandered from Kirk to Sellon and then to Peter, indicated that it was not only important but alarming.

‘Why, of course. I dunno how it didn’t come into me ‘ead before, but I been that moithered with all these dretful things a-’appenin’. ‘Course, come to think of it if ‘e wasn’t off by the ‘bus, then ‘e must a-been dead afore ‘ar-pas’-nine.’

The constable’s hand paused in its note-taking. Kirk said sharply: ‘What makes you think that?’

‘W’y, ‘is wireless wasn’t a-workin’, and I says to Bert-’

‘Just a minute. What’s all this about the wireless?’

‘W’y, Mr Kirk, if Mr Noakes ‘ad been ‘ere alive, ‘e wouldn’t a-missed the 9.30 noos, not if it was ever so. ‘E set great store by the last noos, pore soul-though wot good it done ‘im I don’t know. And I recollects sayin’ to Bert last Wednesday night as ever was, “Funny thing,” I says, “Mr Noakes ain’t got ‘is wireless goin’ tonight. That ain’t like ‘im,” I says.’

‘But you couldn’t hear his wireless from your cottage with all these doors and windows shut?’; Mrs Ruddle licked her lips.

‘Well, I won’t deceive you, Mr Kirk.’ She swallowed, and then went on as volubly as ever; her eye avoided the Superintendent’s and fixed itself on Joe Sellon’s pencil. ‘I did jest run over ‘ere a few minutes arter the ‘arf-hour to borrer a drop of paraffin from ‘is shed. And if the wireless ‘ad bin on then I couldn’t a-’elped ‘earin’ of it, for them walls at the back ain’t only plaster, and ‘e allus ‘ad it a-roarin’ powerful ‘ard on account of being’ ‘ard of ‘earin’.’

‘I see,’ said Mr Kirk.

‘No ‘arm,’ said Mrs Ruddle, backing away from the table, ‘no ‘arm in borrowin’ a drop o’ paraffin.’

‘Well,’ replied Kirk, cautiously, ‘that’s neither here nor there. Nine-thirty news. That’s on the National.’

‘That’s right. He never troubled with the 5 o’clock.’

Peter consulted Kirk with a glance, stepped over to the radio cabinet and raised the lid.

‘The pointer,’ he observed, ‘is set to Regional.’

‘Well, if you ain’t altered it since-’ Peter shook his head, and Kirk continued. ‘Looks like he didn’t have it on-not for the 9.30. H’m. We’re getting there, aren’t we? Whittling the time down. Line upon line, line upon line, here a little and there a little-’

‘Isaiah,’ said Peter, shutting down the lid. ‘Or is it, more appropriately, Jeremiah?’

‘Isaiah, my lord-and no call for Lamentations that I can see. That’s pretty satisfactory, that is. Dead or unconscious at 9.30-last seen alive about 6.20-ate his supper at-’

‘Six-twenty?’ cried Mrs Ruddle. ‘Go on! He was alive and kicking at 9 o’clock.’

‘What! How do you know? Why didn’t you say so before?’

‘Well, I thought you knowed it. You didn’t ask. And ‘ow I do I know? ‘Cause I seen ‘im, that’s why. ‘Ere! wotter you gettin’ at? Tryin’ to put summat on me? You knows as well as I do ‘e was alive at nine. Joe Sellon ‘ere was a-talkin’ to ‘im.’

Kirk gaped dumbfounded. ‘Eh?’ he said, staring at the constable.

‘Yes,’ muttered Sellon, dully, ‘that’s right.’

‘’Course it is,’ said Mrs Ruddle. Her small eyes gleamed with malicious triumph, behind which lurked an uneasy horror. ‘You don’t catch me that way, Joe Sellon. I come in 9 o’clock from fetchin’ a pail o’ water, and I sees you plain as the nose on my face a-talkin’ to him at this very winder. Ah! and I ‘eard you, too. Usin’ language-you did oughter be ashamed of yourself-not fit for a decent woman to listen to. I come up the yard-which you know where the pump is, and the only water fit to drink, bar you goes down to the village, Mr Kirk, and always free permission to use the pump in the yard, without it’s for washin’, what I always uses rainwater on account of the woollens, and I ‘ears you from the pump-yes, you may look! And I ses to meself, “Lor’,” I ses, “wotever is a-going on?” And I comes round the corner of the ‘ouse and I sees you- and your ‘elmet, so don’t you go a denying of it.’