Season Of Darkness (37 page)

“Because the lights were low slung. There ain’t any other sports cars in the area.”

“Did you see if Mrs. Devereau herself was driving?”

“Didn’t need to. It were her all right. Who else’d it be?”

“Was the top up or down?”

“Up. But it was her, I tell you. She was heading for the Heath Road.”

“How do you know that? The car must have been past in a second. It could have been going anywhere.”

“Don’t be stupid, Tom. There’s only two turnoffs from Main Street. Alkington and Heath Road, otherwise you’re on your way out of town. She’s staying at Beeton Manor by all accounts. That’s where she’d be going.” He glanced slyly at Tyler. “Don’t know where she was coming from, mind.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Lambeth growled. “It slipped my mind.”

Tyler knew that wasn’t true. Lambeth hadn’t told him because he’d have to explain why he was up so early. He was
probably waiting outside by the laneway for his next delivery. He could have seen the car from there. So which was it? Clare snug in bed with the alarm clock at that hour, or Clare in her flat after a hard night of work with Grey, or Clare driving her car in the early morning hours heading for the Heath Road … and Elsie Bates?

“Is there anybody else who could verify your statement, Walter?”

“Just me. And her of course. If you ask her, she’ll tell you. At least I assume she will.”

Tyler got the innuendo. “I’ll follow up on what you’ve told me.”

“Enjoy yourself,” said Lambeth ambiguously.

T
YLER WENT STRAIGHT BACK TO THE STATION
. W
HAT
now? According to Mr. Grey of MI5, it was against the interests of national security to pursue the killers of the two girls. The country would collapse and be overrun by Nazis who would destroy English culture for the next five hundred years. Bollocks. Wasn’t this war about defending the rule of law against the rule of anarchy? He lit a cigarette. Reluctantly, he decided he did have to go along with Grey’s request for now. In spite of his tendency to be rebellious against stiff-necked authority, Tyler was no fool. Perhaps the fellow did have a bigger picture in mind that he himself was ignorant of. However, that shouldn’t stop him from pursuing his own very discreet enquiries.

He went into the front hall.

“Where’s young Eager?” he asked Gough.

“He’s in the back, sir, having a cuppa.”

“Bloody hell. Are we running a rest home?” He bellowed in the general direction of the duty room. “Eager, get your arse out here.” He didn’t wait but turned on his heel. “Tell him I’m in the car park.”

The first crank was useless and Tyler kicked the tire in exasperation. Eagleton came over to him, buttoning his jacket.

“Sorry, sir, I heard you wanted me.”

Tyler stepped back. “Can you make this bloody machine turn over? It’s got a mind of its own where I’m concerned. It hates me and delights in making my life miserable.”

“You have to be a bit more gentle, sir. Steady, not too hard
and fast, just brisk and masterful. It’ll surrender and be purring away in no time.”

Tyler grinned at him. “Sounds like you’re talking about a woman, Eager. Is that the voice of experience I hear?”

The constable blushed. “No, sir. Just with cars.” He got to his task right away. He only had to crank a couple of times before the engine coughed into life. Tyler got in. “Go and get your bike.”

Eagleton ran over to the shed, retrieved his bicycle, and fastened it to the rack on the boot. Tyler barely waited until he was inside before accelerating out of the car park. He turned onto Main Street, going as fast as he dared and the Humber could manage. Fortunately, there were only one or two people out. All the shops were closed on Sunday, and with nothing to draw them, the residents of the town were at home with their roast dinner, if they had one, listening to the latest bad news on the wireless.

Tyler got the car out of the town before he spoke. “There are two people I want you to talk to. Syd Newstead and Arthur Trimble. One of them, or both, may have been delivering black market goods to Lambeth’s butcher shop on Thursday morning. Trimble says he was in the barn at that time. See if he can produce any witnesses. Same with Newstead. He lives in Ash Magna, so if he was coming from Main Street, he would probably turn off at the Heath Road.”

“He’s an old fellow, isn’t he, sir? I can’t see him killing a young girl in cold blood.”

“Frankly, neither can I, but we have to rule him out.”

“Beg pardon, sir, but I thought we were supposed to lie low with this investigation, sir. In the interests of national security?”

“We are. We’re simply going on a scouting mission.” He patted the constable’s arm. “I know how clever you are, Eager, but they don’t. Arrogant sods like Arthur Trimble can be lulled
into dropping their guard if they think you’re a fool. See if you can get him to say where he was on Thursday evening about seven.”

“Yes, sir.” Eagleton looked pleased at being given so important a task. “Excuse me, sir, but Mr. Lambeth is your father-in-law, isn’t he?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean my exemplary character has rubbed off on him. He’s been trading in the black market.”

“Sorry to hear that, sir.”

“Not half as sorry as I am, Eager.” Tyler stuck to the middle of the narrow road, trusting he’d have time to pull over if another vehicle came along. “I’ve closed him down for now, but we’re going to keep a closer eye on him than a dog watching a rabbit.”

“Yes, sir.”

“While you chase up the yokels, I’m going to talk to Mrs. Devereau.”

Startled, Eagleton looked over at him. “Is she a suspect, sir?”

“No, of course not, but she might have witnessed something that could help us. Her flat is above the former stables and who knows, she may have heard or seen something. Trimble for instance.”

“I saw her in town last Wednesday. She’s quite a swell, isn’t she?”

“She is that.”

Tyler wondered if he was fooling his shrewd young constable for one minute. “While you’re talking to Trimble, keep your eyes open for any twine on the premises. It’s common as muck but if he has some lying around, I’m going to sit on that slimy sod until he howls, national security or not.”

They drove on for a while in silence until they reached the lane that led to Beeton Manor. Tyler pulled up in front of the house.

“Trimble has a cottage just down the path. He might be there; he might be working on the estate. I’ll meet you back at the station.”

“When would that be, sir?”

“God help me, I don’t know, Eager. Whenever I’ve done what I’ve got to do.”

“Yes, sir.” He got out of the car and collected his bicycle.

The windows of the flat were all open and he could hear the sound of a wireless. It sounded like George Formby was plucking his ukulele. Tyler liked George and felt absurdly glad that Clare might like him too. He was the working bloke’s entertainer. Tyler climbed the stairs and knocked on the door. His heart was beating faster but he couldn’t do anything about it. She opened right away and gave him a warm smile that melted the tension building in his stomach.

“Tom, I thought we were getting together tonight? Come in.”

She stepped forward, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. Then she leaned away and scrutinized his face. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’re regretting already?”

“No, of course not. Nothing like that, but I need to talk to you.”

“Oh dear. Let’s go to the living room. I’ve just made some lemonade. Not as good as we got at the camp, but decent enough. Would you like some?”

“Love it.”

He followed her down the long passageway. The screen to the bedroom was moved aside and he could see her unmade bed. She was wearing the white cotton top and khaki shorts. Once again, he was aware that the clothes fit loosely on her frame. She was too thin.

She poured his glass of lemonade, took it to the couch, and sat beside him. “I was afraid you’d regret everything and wouldn’t want to see me again.”

It had never occurred to him that Clare might be insecure after their coming together, but he saw that she was.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you all over again,” she whispered.

At another time, those words would have filled him with ecstasy.

He put down his glass on the table. “Clare, I have to talk to you regarding Elsie Bates.”

He saw her unguarded expression of fear.

“I gather this is as Inspector Tyler, policeman?”

“I suppose you could put it that way. I’m sorry but it’s something I couldn’t ignore.”

She shifted slightly away from him on the couch.

“I had a visit from Mr. Grey, the big hugga mugga from the security service,” continued Tyler. “He told me something rather, shall we say, unexpected. He said you were working for MI5.”

“Oh God, Tom. That’s all supposed to be completely hush-hush. Why on earth did he tell you that?”

“He was very anxious to provide you with an alibi for the time when we know that Elsie was killed.”

She frowned. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘anxious to provide me with an alibi.’ ”

“He says you were working overtime. That you were here in your flat and he fell asleep. You both had breakfast at seven and he left to go back to Whitchurch. You told me you were in bed contemplating throwing the alarm clock at the wall at six o’clock. Which is it?”

Clare shrugged. “Both things. Grey was here. We had a lot of translating and transcribing to do. He fell asleep on my couch so I let him stay. He always looks exhausted. My alarm did go off at a quarter to six and I did think of throwing it out of the window.”

“Right. So you told me half of the facts?”

“Yes. Clearly, I couldn’t tell what I was doing with Grey.”

Tyler couldn’t resist going one step further. Although even as he did, he knew it was ridiculous. “He also insinuated you were together all night having it off in rhapsody until dawn tiptoed over the misty mountain tops.”

She stared at him incredulously. “He told you we were having a sexual relationship?”

“He
implied
you were.”

She banged her hand on her forehead. “Men! You let your imagination run away with you, Tom. Did you honestly think I would sleep with somebody like Grey?”

“Frankly, no. But that could just have been my own basic conceit. He didn’t get his leg over?”

“Please! Grey and I have a purely business relationship.”

“He didn’t even try?”

“No. He did not.”

Tyler took out his cigarette case. “He certainly considers you a valuable agent. One who must be protected at all costs, even if it means feeding the police false information … because he was lying, wasn’t he, Clare? I happen to know that you weren’t here tucked up in your bed until morning. Your car was seen much earlier in Whitchurch, driving along Main Street at about a quarter to six.”

“That’s ridiculous, Tom. It must have been somebody else.”

“Did you lend out your
MG?”

She shook her head.

“Given that he was baring his bosom, it would have been easy for Grey to say you were both working at the Old Rectory. From there it was quite plausible that you’d be driving home. But he didn’t say that. He wanted me to know that you were in your flat, a long way from the Heath Road. Why was that, Clare? Why was Mr. Grey so intent on giving you an alibi?”

He saw her shoulders slump.

“Can I have a cig?”

He gave her one but she didn’t light it.

“So why was Mr. Grey making up a story, Clare? Or is it too secret for even my ears?”

“No, it’s not exactly that … Grey told you he was with me because there was nobody to confirm that I was in my flat.” She gave a wry smile. “We should have got our stories straight.”

“Why? Why was it important to convince me you were snug in your flat?”

“Because I wasn’t. It was me driving along Main Street at that time.”

“Fair enough. What were you doing in Whitchurch at such an early hour?”

Rather awkwardly, she started to light a cigarette. He did it for her, waiting.

“I was visiting my daughter.”

It was Tyler’s turn to struggle to light up another cigarette. “I take it you’re going to give me an explanation.”

“The whole kit and kaboodle, Tom. I would have told you before but we were interrupted.” She smiled at him rather impishly. “Shall I fetch the scarf and wave it around, à la Arabian nights?”

“That’s all right. I don’t need stage effects.”

“Well, I need some brandy. Do you want some?”

“Just lemonade.”

She went into the kitchen. He watched her while she poured the brandy, took a big gulp, then returned to the chair across from him. She was carrying the bottle and an extra glass which she put on the coffee table.

“In case you change your mind.”

Tyler finished off his lemonade, then added a splash of brandy to his glass.

“Go. I’m all ears.”

Clare took a deep breath. “There’s a preamble. Be patient.”

“My strongest suit.”

“After I married, life went on, busy, empty, demanding and boring at the same time. Then when I was thirty-six and staring down a bleak future, I went to Paris for a holiday. Valentin was busy as usual so I was alone. One evening I went to an after-hours jazz bar, the new music from America. I met Paxton, a saxophone player. He wasn’t like my other young men; he was a brilliant musician, passionate about his music, rather aloof. I went back several times. We started to talk between sets; he asked me to come back to his digs.” She drank some of the brandy. “I accepted his offer and that was the beginning of a short but intense love affair.” She paused. “Don’t look like that, Tom. I’m telling you the truth, which you say you want.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

“What about you?” she fired back. “You were probably tomcatting around the countryside not thinking of me for a minute.”

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you, Clare. I wish I could have.”

She was silent for a moment, looking at him. “Do you want me to go on or not?”

“Of course.” He reached for the brandy and poured a slug into his glass.