Alan Hunter: Gently in the Sun

‘Well, when I first came here, things were altogether different. In those days they used to go drifting — Esau’s got his skipper’s ticket. As a matter of fact, I didn’t see much of them. They used to follow the fishing for the best part of the year, and were at Hiverton for only a few weeks at a time.’

‘How long did that continue?’

‘Oh, only for a year or two. I imagine they were saving their money to buy themselves boats. But what I was going to tell you was that then they were the best of friends — now, as you may have seen, they’re on a rather peculiar footing.

‘Bob, when I first knew him, would be round about thirty. He was a swashbuckling young man with very good looks. You’ve seen those dark eyes of his — they played havoc among the females. And he was a spark in those days, he’d got a joke for everyone.

‘Esau was a few years older and a steadier type altogether. He was always a bit reserved, a bit distant from the other fishermen. He was a skipper, which made a difference. He got his ticket very young. I believe he was very much sought after and had a wonderful record of catches.

‘Well then, as I say, they bought themselves boats — or more likely, Esau bought them: he was the one to have had the money. Esau’s boat was built at Wrackstead. I can remember them bringing it round. It’s unique in the line of fishing boats and there were pictures of it in the Eastern Daily Post.’

‘Can you remember what year that was?’

‘It was the spring of twenty-nine. Mary was having Anne, and she was born on the first of June.’

‘How did they get on with the boats?’

‘Oh, well — at least, Esau did. Bob, I imagine, was paying off instalments, but I don’t think it was that which came in between them. Esau had a spanking year. He was after his second boat. He owned five altogether by thirty-two or three, and later, for no good reason, he sold them off again. You’ll have to do a lot of probing, Inspector, to get to the bottom of Esau.’

‘But this thing… whatever it was?’

‘That’s just what I’m coming to now.’

The vicar re-lit his pipe with a little conscious art; but then, after puffing once or twice, he produced an anticlimax.

‘I don’t know what caused it, and that’s being honest with you. I can’t even be sure of when it took place. They’re chapel, you know, like most of the fishermen, and not so close to me as my own congregation. But something went wrong, that was plain to everyone. You never saw them together again as they were in the old days. Esau shut himself up just the way he is now and Bob — well, you’ve seen him. He changed out of mind.

‘But this is the odd thing, and I could never make it out. Esau gained a remarkable ascendancy over Bob. It seemed that the further they drifted apart, the more Bob stood in awe of him; whenever he was by poor Bob became as quiet as a lamb.

‘Esau, you can guess, had always been the dominant partner, and Bob wasn’t the only one to feel himself subjected. You must have noticed Esau’s standing. He’s a sort of high priest to the fishermen. He’s got more authority than I have with them, and I’m bound to admit that he uses it wisely.

‘But that doesn’t account for his ascendancy over Bob. There you’ve got something quite out of the natural order. I’m certain that Bob hates him — bless me for saying so! — yet he goes in perpetual subjugation to the man.’

‘And you’ve nothing to suggest?’

‘I haven’t, Inspector. This is Hiverton’s mystery and has been for years. If you’re thinking of solving it, then I give you fair warning. I’ve lived half my life with it and have never had an inkling.’

He puffed away complacently, his pale hands on his knees. He was obviously enjoying this chat about his parishioners. But it was getting Gently nowhere, except to confirm his guesses. All that the priest had told him so far was only corroborating the Sea-King.

Gently was party to Hiverton’s mystery, but the proof was still out of his hands!

‘You say you couldn’t be sure when it happened?’

‘No… if you want me to be exact. It’s the negative sort of thing that one doesn’t at first notice. It might go on for years before your attention gets drawn to it.’

‘What drew your attention to it?’

‘Some gossip, I dare say. Like every other village, Hiverton is well served in that line.’

‘It was before the war, of course?’

‘Oh yes, a good while before. If you’re pinning me down I would say the early thirties — but don’t rely on my memory too much.’

‘Just after they bought the boats?’

‘Yes, it wouldn’t have been so long after. But I’ve long given up the view that money had anything to do with it. They’d have ironed out their money troubles and have forgotten them by now. Bob, you must understand, has never been unprosperous.’

‘He never married, did he?’

‘No, and that again was peculiar. He used to be fond of the girls, and then he was all the other way.’

‘Dating from this trouble between them?’

‘More or less, now you come to mention it.’

‘Didn’t that ever strike you as significant?’

‘Not before… and I can’t see it now.’

Still it was only corroborative, though the corroboration was growing stronger. Touch it where you would and it gave you solid support for Esau. And surely the proof must come, if one could frame the definitive question — the revealing answer was there, it needed only to be evoked!

‘Did he have any trouble with women?’

‘I believe so. From time to time.’

‘Anything special that you can remember?’

‘Yes… there was scandal about one girl. Her name was Platten, I seem to recall… she was engaged to a fellow at Hamby. Her first child was born rather soon after the wedding and rumour had it that her husband thrashed Robert.’

‘What happened to her afterwards?’

‘She’s still living in Hamby. Her husband keeps the Marquis and her daughter married a Gorbold.’

‘And she’s the child in question?’

‘No, that was a “he”. They christened him Japheth — he’s in the Merchant Navy.’

The vicar gave a little chuckle as though something amusing had struck him. He tapped his pipe on his palm and looked at Gently with a quizzical twinkle.

‘You haven’t asked about Esau. Doesn’t he impress you as being marriageable?’

‘Esau!’

‘Yes — I thought you’d stare! But I assure you that he’s a married man.’

Gently sat very still, his pipe rigid between his teeth. For a second or two he was unable to speak a word. The vicar smiled broadly at the impression he had made — here was something that had astonished the unastonishable chief inspector!

‘You’re quite certain, about this?’

‘My dear fellow, I married him. It was a particular triumph since he was such a stout chapelite. His lady, I’m afraid, had no convictions either way, but I imagine that she felt the church would give a better tone to the occasion.’

‘And his wife — where is she?’

‘He kicked her out, years ago. They were an ill-assorted couple, Esau and his Josephine. She was a foreigner, you know — that’s to say, she wasn’t Northshire. I could have told the skipper he was making a mistake, though, of course, he didn’t ask my advice.’

Gently could only shake his head. The information had struck him like a bludgeon. Almost anything but this he had been preparing himself to hear. It was nudging the whole foundation, the very groundworks of the case — in a moment, he could sense, the structure would crash about his ears.

‘Where did she come from?’

‘Josephine?’

‘From Camden Town, by any chance?’