McQueen's Agency (6 page)

She felt her face go red. ‘Oh no, John. I like the walk.’

She watched as he strode away and wished she had taken up his offer. What if there were other foggy days? Was the unknown man watching her and waiting for another chance to strike her?

She was glad when she reached her front door. Billy would be doing his homework and mum would be making the tea and all would be right with the world.

Wouldn’t it?

Tam put Rover’s lead on him and walked the few yards to the shop. He needed bread and milk but in the passing, he picked up a newspaper.

He always made porridge for himself every morning, saving a small amount for the dog who lapped up the warm milk and oats. With them both fed he settled back in his armchair with a cup of tea and the
Courier
. There was still a lot of news about the Coronation and Hillary’s victory at Everest but he skimmed over most of it.

He liked to read the intimations column to see if anyone he knew had died but there were no names that rang a bell today.

He was folding the paper to put it away when he noticed the small news item tucked away in the corner of the page.

B
ODY
F
OUND

The body of a man was found in the vicinity of Broughty Ferry yesterday. The man who was approximately forty years old was wearing a navy duffle jacket, blue shirt and black trousers.

Tam read the item again. It sounded like Harry he thought.

Then he left the flat quickly with Rover trotting at his side and made his way to the Police Station in Bell Street.

The constable on the reception desk looked up as the elderly man walked in.

‘I’ve come about the man found on the beach at Broughty Ferry,’ said Tam.

‘Can I have your name and address, Sir?’ asked the constable, pulling over a large pad and pen.

‘Tam … I mean Thomas Burns, 23 Gellatly Street.’

The constable wrote this down and then looked at Tam. ‘You say you’ve got information about the victim.’

‘Yes. I think it’s a man called Harry Hawkins who was a seaman on the ship,
The Mary Anne
.’

The constable looked up from his pad. ‘Are you a relative Mr Burns?’

‘No, I only met him the once, in the City Centre Bar on the corner of Dock Street.’

‘So why do you think it’s the same person?’

‘The description in the newspaper matches, and I know he was reported missing. He was leaving Dundee the next day, but he was on his way to meet someone when he said goodbye to me.

‘Did he say who this person was?’

‘No, but I got the impression he was nervous about it. I went to the docks the next morning to have another chat with him but he never showed up and
The Mary Anne
sailed without him. I was worried at the time but didn’t know what to do.’

‘Were you drinking with him, Sir?’

‘Yes, we had a couple of rums together but he wasn’t drunk if that’s what you’re thinking. He was fine when we parted company and, as I’ve told you, I’ve been worried about him ever since.’

The constable put his pad away and told Tam to wait and someone would see him.

Tam sat down on the hard wooden bench and hoped he wouldn’t have long to wait. He had left Rover outside, tied to the railings.

Tam felt apprehensive in the police surroundings but when the police officer arrived he looked friendly.

‘I’m Detective Sergeant Johns, Mr Burns. Would you like to come this way.’

Tam followed him down a long corridor and was finally shown into a small office with only enough room for a desk, a couple of chairs and a filing cabinet. A small window overlooked what seemed to be a brick wall.

‘Now, Mr Burns, you were saying you knew the deceased man, Harry Hawkins.’

‘Yes I did … briefly. As I told the officer on the desk we met the night before he was due to sail. We had drinks in the City Centre Bar.’

Tam described his bewilderment the following morning when Harry had seemingly disappeared.

‘Well, it is definitely Mr Hawkins. He still had his wallet in his pocket and he’s been identified by the captain of
The Mary Anne
. It’s a ship that docks regularly in Dundee and, as luck would have it, it’s back with another cargo.’

Tam was puzzled. ‘But Harry said he had never been in Dundee before. How can that be when it’s a regular port of call for the boat?’

Sergeant Johns leaned back on his chair. ‘No you’re right. The captain said Mr Hawkins signed on before the last trip. He had been on a freight ship from Hull to Rotterdam but apparently changed ships because the Hull boat was being laid up for a few weeks for repairs.’

Tam felt sad. Harry’s first trip to Dundee had turned out to be his final journey.

‘How much did he have to drink in the bar?’

‘He wasn’t drunk if that’s what you’re thinking,’ said Tam, annoyed that this might be classed as the cause of death. ‘We had two rums each and I think he had one drink before that.’

‘The post mortem shows quite a bit of alcohol in his stomach. At least six measures … maybe eight.’

‘Well yes, we had double measures but that still doesn’t account for his death. How did he die?’

‘We think he got his foot entangled in a coil of rope that was lying on the wharf and hit his head when he fell into the water. He must have been unconscious because he drowned. The head wound must have knocked him out, but it wasn’t the cause of death.’

Tam couldn’t accept this. ‘But Harry had been at sea since he was sixteen. He would never have tripped over a coil of rope. Never in a hundred years. He must have walked over hundreds of wharves.’

‘Maybe,’ said the sergeant. ‘He was probably very careful when he was sober, but after quite a few drinks his judgement would have been impaired.’

Tam shook his head in disbelief. ‘I don’t believe it.’

The man stood up. ‘Well, it’s being recorded as an accidental death. Thank you for coming in and filling us in with his last moments, Mr Burns.’

He walked down the corridor with Tam and stood at the front door.

As Tam untied Rover, DS Johns rubbed his chin. He had a funny feeling about this case but, without a witness to the event, it would remain an accidental death.

Tam walked away with Rover. He couldn’t believe Harry had tripped over a bit of rope. Not an old seadog like him.

When he reached his house he was annoyed at forgetting to ask when the funeral was and if it would be in Dundee. He would maybe go back to the police station or it might be in the death column of the paper. He would have to look out for it. Harry would have precious few mourners and Tam was determined to be one. It’s the least I can do, he thought. Old sailors had to stick together.

Tam tried to recall all the conversation on that night but although he racked his brains, he couldn’t think of anything else. He had told the police all he knew but they were sure it was an accident.

On Thursday afternoon, Molly was finishing a pile of invoices when Lena arrived back from the shop. The weather had turned warm and thundery and Molly was looking forward to setting off for home and having a long cool bath.

‘Kenneth has had to go and see to some containers coming in. I’ve had to look after the shop all day.’ She sounded annoyed.

‘Is there anything else you would like me to do after these invoices?’

Lena gave this a bit of thought. ‘I think Christie and Mike might want some help in the warehouse. Could you make a list of all the containers?’

Molly took her pad out to the warehouse. Christie was working at a small desk but there was no sign of Mike, much to her relief. She hardly knew the man but he made her feel uncomfortable.

Christie had all the information to hand and Molly copied it down.

He said. ‘I’m going to make some coffee. Would you like a cup?’

Molly wasn’t fussy about coffee. She much preferred tea but she nodded.

‘What brought you to Dundee?’ she asked him.

He fiddled with his teaspoon. ‘I arrived last year on a working holiday. I came to Dundee on a visit and met Kenneth. I told him I worked in the antique trade back in Canada and he asked me to come and work for him. So here I am. What about you?’

Molly told him about her parents going to Australia and how she had lived there for some time. She mentioned Nell and the new baby and how she had started the agency.

‘With lots of hope and little money,’ she laughed.

She picked up her pad. ‘Well I’d better be getting back. Thanks for the coffee.’

She reached the door when a dark shadow appeared. For a moment she thought it was Mike but it was Joe. He was sweating and his face was red and shiny. Behind him was Kenneth who looked as cool and as well groomed as usual.

Kenneth was speaking to Joe. ‘You should have left the boxes until tomorrow. Christie and Mike would have helped you. You don’t want to end up with a heart attack.’

Joe scowled and muttered something, which Molly didn’t catch. Kenneth must have heard, however, because he put a hand on Joe’s shoulder before walking away.

Later, Molly left the shed and walked through the garden towards the house. The lawn was well kept and she thought she would have a quick look at the cliffs. When she reached the end of the grass she was surprised to see there was no fence and the ground fell away to a small beach which lay about twenty feet below. It was hardly a cliff but it was still a nasty drop.

There was a jetty on the shingle beach with a smart looking cabin cruiser berthed alongside. She was peering over when she heard the voices but before she could draw back, Joe and Mike appeared. They seemed to be arguing.

Suddenly, as if they sensed they were being overheard, they looked up and saw her. Molly almost fell off the edge in surprise, so intense was their gaze.

Molly was mortified. Did they think she was eavesdropping? She turned to go to the house and almost fell over Christie.

She had an irrational stab of fear at the closeness of the Canadian and although she wouldn’t admit it, she felt shaken by the malicious looks from Joe and Mike.

‘I’m just enjoying the view,’ she said, trying to inject a nonchalant and carefree lightness in her voice as she quickly made her way back to the office.

Sitting at the desk, she was dismayed to see her hands were still shaking.

‘Stop it,’ she told herself. Just because the men obviously didn’t like her didn’t mean there was anything wrong. That was the trouble with working in a home environment. You picked up lots of domestic detritus. Maybe Joe had fallen out with his wife and was in a bad mood. As for Mike and Christie, well she hardly knew them. Perhaps they were always like that.

Mary was waiting impatiently for her dinner break. She had her wages and Mum had said she could treat herself to something to wear as a reward for passing her exams. She would soon be getting her Leaving Certificate at the school and, after that, she would be a fully-fledged working girl.

She looked over at Molly who was working out all the invoices for jobs done. It had been a busy Saturday morning and the agency was picking up a lot of new business. At this rate, perhaps Molly would get another receptionist and she could become an agency worker.

She gazed at her wristlet watch, which had been a birthday present from her parents. It was twelve o’clock.

As if noticing the movement, Molly looked up from the pile of paperwork. ‘If you want to have your break now, Mary, I’ll hold on here.’

Mary gathered up her jacket and handbag and hurried down the Wellgate. She had seen the dress she wanted in Levinson’s shop window so she quickly made her way to the Overgate.

The assistant was very helpful and Mary stood in the fitting room, admiring her reflection in the mirror. The dress was white with blue spots and it had a red belt, which made her waist look tiny. And the best part was it had been reduced in the sale from thirty to twenty-one shillings.

Mary was almost purring when she left the shop. She was planning to wear the dress tonight when she went out dancing with her best friend, Rita. There was just the one small worry, which had been niggling her since Wednesday when she last saw Rita.

Both girls normally went to Kidd’s Rooms every Saturday night but Rita had suggested going to the Palais in Tay Street.

‘It’ll be a change, Mary,’ she had said. ‘After all, you’re leaving school in a week’s time so it’s time you mixed with the grown-up dancers, not the kids you normally see.’

Mary was uncertain but had agreed to go. The only thing was she hadn’t told her Mum the change of plan. Then she thought of the new dress and made up her mind. She was going to enjoy her evening at the dancing.

When she got back to the office, Edna was sitting chatting to Molly. The injury had turned into a black eye and there was blue and yellow bruising halfway down her cheek which the pancake foundation had failed to cover up.

Mary could see that Molly looked shocked.

Edna was explaining the accident and she seemed to be embarrassed by it. ‘It was so stupid. Walking into a lamp post,’ she said. ‘I was going to stay off work but Mr Knox was very kind and said he didn’t mind having me come in every day.’ She sounded hesitant and unsure of herself. ‘But if you would rather I didn’t work until the bruising has gone, I quite understand.’

‘Well, as long as you feel all right, Edna’, said Molly. ‘How long do you think this job will last? Did he give you any idea?’

Mary was surprised when Edna’s neck went bright red. No doubt her face would have gone the same deep red if she hadn’t been wearing so much make-up, she thought.

‘He wants me for another two weeks, at least if that’s all right with you, Molly? He’s writing an engineering book and it’s all very technical.’

Molly was delighted. ‘We’ve got some new jobs in this morning but I’ll get my friends to fill in and I can always do a Friday as my clients don’t need me then.’

Edna left and Mary settled back in her chair, ready for the afternoon’s work.

Molly saw the bag that Mary had stuffed into the cupboard behind the desk.

‘Have you been treating yourself to something nice to wear, Mary?’