Lois Meade 03: Weeping on Wednesday (1987) (22 page)

“You’ve got a full day’s work,” said Lois. “Don’t bother, Bill, I can manage.”

She had it in mind to alert Cowgill. Perhaps he would be interested. If she could stop him filling the woods with boys in blue, and persuade him to search quietly with her, then if they did find Enid, with or without her brother, it would be a lot easier to do something about it.

“Righto,” Bill said. “But take your mobile, and give me a bell if you need help.”

§

Cowgill
was
interested in what Lois had to say. “Trouble is,” he said, “there’s a high-level meeting tomorrow. All day. I’ve got to be there.”

“What? You mean even
you
have to obey orders?” Lois was irritated, and more so when Cowgill suggested local bobby Keith Simpson should come and help her instead.

“For God’s sake!” she said. “This is a woman disappeared! Probably abducted by a murderin’ lunatic…”

“Only murderous with dogs,” replied Cowgill mildly.

“So far!” said Lois sharply. “I wouldn’t give much for Enid’s chances if she crosses that madman. And,” she added angrily, “dogs are just as important as humans, I reckon. More so than some I could mention,” she ended up, and put down the phone.

Just let him wait until he wanted her to do something urgently! Well, she’d go on her own. She had an idea. Talk of dogs had reminded her of the old collie she took for walks for the old lady. He’d still got a bit of life left in him, and she’d borrow him tomorrow morning to give her a bit of protection while she combed the rest of the woods. Perhaps have a word with Miss Clitheroe first? In her long stint at the school, she’d have heard all the local lore from the children, and might just know where the secret places were. It could save Lois a lot of time.

M
iss Clitheroe proved useful. Yes, she’d heard the children talking about a hiding place in Alibone Woods. It had been years ago, but a young teacher she’d had in the school at that time had organized a trek with the older children, their aim being to find the cave.

“And did they?” said Lois, anxious to get going.

Fortunately Miss Clitheroe had a class waiting, and cut short reminiscences. “Yes, they did. Had a picnic there. It was over by the railway line, where the stream goes underground. I don’t think the quarry people found what they were looking for. It was soon abandoned, and lost in the undergrowth. I don’t think anyone’s been there for years.”

“Thanks a lot.” Lois was grateful and left swiftly, not wishing to be a nuisance. A cave lost in the undergrowth sounds very promising, she said to herself, and she walked quickly round to collect the collie.

“I’ll bring him back in a couple of hours,” she said to the old lady. “Not car sick, is he? I thought I’d take him to Alibone for a good walk off the lead.” Assured that the collie had ridden on more bumpy farm vehicles than Lois had had hot dinners, she set off with the dog on the back seat. He looked at her trustingly. Curiosity roused him from his usual aged apathy, and his ears were pricked, eyes roaming from side to side as they drove along.

It had begun to rain, and Lois pulled on an old hat that Derek had left in the boot. “Come on, dog,” she said, and opened the door. The collie bounded out, given a new lease of life by the smells and sounds of the wood. This time Lois knew exactly where she was going. All the times she had waited for Cowgill at their meeting place stood her in good stead. She had a feel for the geography of the wood, and made straight for the stream, turning in the direction Miss Clitheroe had described. When she came to the place where the trickle of water disappeared underground, she stopped. She could see the edge of the wood, and the railway line beyond. All around her were thick bushes and small trees, growing faster at this place where sunlight penetrated. She listened. Nothing strange. Bird calls, rustling from animals running from the scent of dog. She could see no place where a cave might be. Then the dog began nosing and scrabbling fiercely at a dense patch of couch grass. She went closer, and caught her breath. He was uncovering a narrow pathway made through the bushes. He disappeared then, and she followed, pushing her way through thorns and scratching her legs on brambles.

Suddenly she was there, at the edge of the cave. For a moment she could see nothing but blackness and was terrified at being so exposed to whatever – whoever – was in there. Then her eyes adjusted, and she saw the dog rooting around among tins and bottles. She saw a chair tipped over on its side, and lengths of rope on the ground. The back of the cave was now visible, and there was clearly nobody there. The bird had flown, if there had ever been one.

She was about to leave, calling the dog to follow her, when she saw something glinting on the ground. It was a pen, a ballpoint with a silvery clip. She picked it up, looked closely, and felt a jolt of recognition. On the side, printed in black letters, she read ‘
New Brooms – We sweep cleaner!
’ Well done, Josie. It was proof that Enid had been here. And was now gone. Lois did not need three guesses to identify her captor.

Poor Enid. Poor little woman. But then, as Lois walked back through the wood, Bill’s doubts about the Abraham family came back to her. Was Enid really a poor little woman? Had she been taken, or had she gone freely, laughing, hiding with her brother until it was safe for them to vanish together? And why should they choose this particular time? Had they both thought that as a result of Jamie’s incursion into the inner sanctum of the mill, the police would be hotter on the trail of Edward?

And then, that recurring question: what had he done to make his escape so vital? Killing a dog, blackmailing a sick man? Neither of these seemed so desperate that Enid would have to go with him…unless she was implicated.

Lois shook her head. She didn’t know the answer, but she was still stubbornly on Enid’s side, whatever was said by Bill or Derek – or Hazel, or any of the others. Innocent until proved guilty, she thought, and smiled wryly at something so easy-sounding. She came back to the track that led to her car, and whistled the dog. He’d been distracted by a fleeing rabbit, and she turned to look, whistling again, a shrill two-fingered whistle she’d learned from the boys.

“Not bad for a woman,” said a voice behind her. She froze.

Cowgill stood there, smiling. Her heart slowed down to its normal beat and she said angrily, “So they let you out, did they!”

“That’s a very fetching hat, Lois,” was all he said, and began to walk into the wood, heading for their meeting place. “Come on,” he said, as she stood still, undecided what to do. “You’ve got things to tell me, I expect.”

The dog growled at Cowgill, and Lois patted him approvingly. She had a lot of thinking to do before revealing all she had found to Inspector Cowgill. And anyway, where was he when she was faced with a dangerous-looking cave in the dark wood?

“Stuff you,” she said, and headed for her car.

§

Derek was home early. “I finished the job,” he said, “and it wasn’t worth starting anything else. Where you bin?” he added, watching as she took off muddy shoes.

“Alibone,” she said shortly, and continued, “and yes, I met Cowgill there, and we had it off in the mud, ‘cause that’s what turns him on.”

She watched Derek’s face fall and felt very ashamed of herself. “Sorry, sorry, love,” she said, and put her arms around his neck. “It’s just that bugger really gets to me. I’ve a good mind to forget the whole thing.”

“But you won’t,” said Derek, stroking her heavy, damp hair. “Come on, now. Tell us what happened.”

Lois gave him all the details, and he whistled softly when she got to the tipped-over chair and the New Brooms pen. “Blimey, so she was there,” he said.

Lois nodded. “Sure of it,” she said, and went on to describe her meeting with Cowgill and his stupid arrogance.

“He could have had a bad day at his meeting,” said Derek tentatively.

“Whose side are you on?” said Lois.

“Enid’s, funnily enough,” he said, and hugged her more tightly. “If you think she’s a victim, that’s enough for me. And now we got to find her,” he added, as Gran came into the room and said she was glad to see love’s young dream was alive and kicking.

She smiled as she said it though, well aware that it was their kitchen, their house, and she was just a guest. But a paying guest, she thought happily, as she set the table for tea, and took out a cake she’d spent all afternoon baking.

“I suppose you were talking about Enid?” she said. Lois had gone off to change and Derek sat at the table with a cup of tea.

He nodded. “Seems she was hidden in the woods, but he’s taken her off again.”

“He, meaning Edward?” said Gran.

“Yep. Lois is convinced. But where we start, God knows,” he added. “The police still don’t seem too bothered about it…yet…”

“What d’you mean by that?” Gran looked at Derek suspiciously. Had he told her all of it? They knew she was fond of Enid Abraham, and perhaps wouldn’t want to worry her more than necessary. But she probably knew the woman better than any of them. She believed strongly that Enid had done nothing bad. She wouldn’t be capable of it. But there was this other thing…Enid’s affection for her brother, whatever
he
had done. She had heard it in Enid’s voice, when she spoke of their childhood together. Sibling affection could be strong, in spite of everything. And if they really were twins, well…

“I just mean,” answered Derek, “that it is possible, from what is known of that ruddy brother, that if he’s in a tight corner he could do something violent. He’s killed a dog.”

“Oh yes, somebody who’s capable of that could do anything,” said Gran. “I had a neighbour in Tresham who kept a dog so’s when her husband came in drunk, he could kick it instead of lashing out at her. When the dog died, he stopped her getting another – said it wasn’t so much fun…”

Lois had come in, followed by the kids who’d been watching television until summoned for tea. “Now,” she said, “let’s forget all about Enid Abraham and have our tea. What’s new from Tresham School?”

“Nuthin’,” chorused Josie and Douglas.

But Jamie said, “What about Miss Abraham? Why haven’t they found her? What’s happened to her, Mum? Can’t we do something?”

E
nid was lying curled up on the back seat of a car. She did not know
which
car, as the blindfold was still on. Edward had taken her, not too roughly this time, out of the cave, leading her by the hand. He’d not answered when she had asked if it was her car, but the smell was wrong. It was unpleasantly musty, old.

“Don’t pull me too fast, dear,” she had said kindly, as they stumbled through the wood. “I can’t see where I’m going, you know.” In the long, solitary hours in the damp darkness, she had thought everything through very carefully. She knew that Edward had worked out a plan, calculated to avoid discovery of something he had done that was so bad that it had unhinged him. Temporarily, she hoped. The best thing would be to humour him, and wait for her chance. Edward had always been unreliable and unstable, and Mother had explained many times to Enid that he couldn’t help it, it was the way he was made. And so excuses had been made, cover-ups engineered. People he had cheated or annoyed had been paid off or pacified. No wonder they were so hard up at the mill! The money she had earned at New Brooms had been the first she had had to spend on herself for years.

Now they drew to a halt. The journey had been only about fifteen minutes, Enid reckoned. Edward turned off the engine, telling her to stay down until he came to fetch her. She did as she was told.

A short while later, the car door opened and her father’s voice said, “Good God! What has he done now?” She felt her blindfold being untied, and sunlight flooded in, blinding her. Then she felt gentle hands helping her out of the car, and when she finally opened her eyes, there was her father, and tears were once more running unchecked down his sunken cheeks.

“Father! You look terrible! Where’s he gone?”

Walter gestured towards the mill house. “Come on in. I’ll get you a cup of tea,” he said, and they walked across to the door hand in hand, Enid stumbling with a sudden loss of balance.

“What time is it?” she said.

“One o’clock,” said her father. They were in the kitchen now, and the old dog rushed across to greet her. The cats, too, came over and rubbed against her legs.

“Where’s Edward?” Enid said.

“Around,” said her father, and put on the kettle.

“I must ring Mrs M,” Enid said. “Explain what’s happened…well,” she added, seeing her father’s face, “I’ll make a good excuse. Then we can get back to normal.”

Walter slowly shook his head. “Fraid not, dear,” he said.

“Why not?”

“Edward’ll tell you,” he said, and poured boiling water into a teapot, swilling it round and tipping it out into the sink. The tea-making ritual was the same as ever, but nothing else was, Enid realized. In the corner of the kitchen stood three suitcases, bulging and ready for transit.

“Where are we going?” she said, and her voice quavered. No answer from her father.

“And what about Mother?” Enid felt panic rising. Nothing would get her mother to leave her room now, let alone leave the mill. Three suitcases? Why not four?

She looked wildly around the kitchen. “Where is he! Please tell me what’s going on, Father!” He did not look at her, but continued to fill the teapot.

Desperate now, Enid walked quickly over to the passage and into the hall. Before her father could stop her, she was knocking at her mother’s door. “Mother!” she shouted. “Let me in,
please
!”

“Enid! Come back here!” shouted her father.

But Enid continued to knock, hurting her knuckles, until she heard a voice from inside the room.

“It’s not locked.”

She stopped knocking, her heart pounding. Very gently she turned the doorknob and stepped gingerly into the dark interior. A figure sat at the small table where Mother wrote her notes to the outside world. Enid peered through the gloom. “Mother?” She could see the old cardigan over bent shoulders and a tousled head turned away from her.