The Armada Boy (22 page)

'And did you?'

'Yeah ... yeah, we did."

'How did you get to Tradmouth?'

'We rang for a cab from the hotel
and asked it to pick us up in the lane that leads to the village. We didn't
want no nosy pokes seeing us going off and putting two and two together."

'Why didn't you ... er ... stay at
this hotel?' Steve asked incredulously. Discretion wasn't really in his nature.

Dorinda looked at DC Carstairs as if
he was a particularly stupid child who needed the very basics of everyday
existence explained in detail. 'For a start, Norm might have walked in on us at
any moment, and these old comrades watch each other like hawks ... and the
walls in this place are so thin. You get my drift?" She smiled knowingly
at Wesley, 'So you see, Sergeant, Todd and I were being discreet.'

'And your husband? Wasn't he
suspicious?"

'Oh. Norm lost interest in ... er
... the physical side of marriage some years back.'

'Surely he would have wondered where
you were?'

'Doubt if he noticed I'd gone.'

'Where was Norman when you last saw
him?'

Dorinda shrugged. 'Down in the bar.
I guess. I didn't go looking for him. Now. if that's all., .'

"That's all. I'll have to confirm
this with Mr Weringer, of course, and if you could give me the name of the
hotel... and the taxi firm .. .'

'Sure, Sergeant. Anything you say.'
She looked Wesley up and down. 'You sure are cute. Sergeant. Anyone ever told
you that?'

Wesley noticed that Steve Carstairs
was smirking.

'Oh, one more thing. Sergeant. We
didn't use our own names in the hotel. Mr and Mrs Smith. Todd said that's
traditional over here.'

"Yes, madam,' said Wesley
stiffly. 'That's very traditional.'

Rachel volunteered to go to
Tradmouth to confirm Dorinda Openheim's story. In all the years she'd lived and
worked in the area, she had never entered the Tradmouth Royal Marina Hotel, an
establishment frequented by the upper echelons of the town's
yachting fraternity.

She had imagined it to be much more
palatial, like the interior of one of the more exclusive ocean liners. The
faded sixties splendour disappointed her. But this was where Todd and Dorinda
had chosen to consummate their adulterous liaison. That much was
confirmed by the receptionist and the entry in the hotel register:
Mr and Mrs Todd Smith of Buffalo. USA. Todd and Dorinda had arrived at 9.45 and
had departed at 11.30. causing much speculation amongst the staff. Couples there
for a bit of the other, the receptionist explained seriously, were usually
younger.

With Dr Bowman pinpointing the time
of death at ten o'clock, it looked as though the alibi of Norman's unfaithful
wife and her lover was firmly established. It was always possible, of course, that
they had slipped out of the hotel and back to Bereton; anything was possible.

Rachel had ideas of her own. Norman
was a harmless tourist: he wasn't robbed and he wasn't involved in a fight of
any kind. But he had been in Bereton before, albeit half a century ago, and Rachel
had a feeling that his death was connected somehow with
that distant past... with something that had been stirred up by his return like
sand churned up on the river bed.

She left her car in the hotel carpark
and walked along the quayside to the centre of the town, admiring the display
of daffodils in the Memorial Park. Boats bobbed contentedly on the shimmering river
while a brass band played on the park bandstand, getting
some practice in before the tourist season started in earnest. A Royal Navy
minesweeper floated proudly in the centre of the river, it's neat,
blue-uniformed crew looking like models as they carried out their
well-rehearsed duties. Rachel could have sat
herself down on one of the benches that dotted the quayside and watched the
world and the boats go by for the rest of the afternoon, but, conscientious by nature,
she made for the police station.

Bob Naseby greeted her like a
long-lost friend. 'How are you doing out there in the wilds, my luvver? Rum lot
up at Bereton... too much inbreeding.'

'We're surviving. Bob ... not been
sacrificed by the natives yet. And what do you mean, inbreeding? From what I
hear the Yanks put a stop to all that in the war.'

'I bet they did.' Bob winked. 'Any
progress?'

The usual... we're following a few
leads ...'

'As the dog handler said to the
actress.' Bob Naseby chuckled at his own joke. 'Any sign of this missing woman?
GI bride, wasn't she ... from Maleton?'

We're still looking. Have you got me
that file. Bob?'

For a moment the desk sergeant looked confused, then he remembered. 'Oh. that
file ... from the war. It was a bugger to find.'

Did you go down there yourself, Bob?'

'Me? Never. I got a young constable
to go and look ... new lad.'

'Hope he didn't ruin his uniform ...
all that dust.'

'There's worse than dust down there
... but it'll clean." He reached under the desk and pulled out a package
encased in a new brown envelope. 'I'll give the lad his due. he used his
initiative ... couldn't have been an easy thing to find. He'll be joining you
lot in CID, you mark my words. You going to let me into the secret?'

'What secret?'

'Why I've had one of my men delving
in the cellar for wartime files.'

'I'll tell you when I know more
myself. It's a bit of a long shot.'

'Well, I won't tell that to young Constable Jones ... I told him it were dead
important.'

Rachel leaned over the desk and gave
Bob Naseby a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Bob. If there's anything I can do
for you ...'

'Cricket season's starting soon. You
could have a word with Wesley Peterson ... see how he's fixed for the team. His
great uncle used to play for the West Indies, you know.'

Rachel smiled, knowing full well
what Wesley's answer would be. I'll see what I can do, Bob.'

She walked quickly out of the station
clutching the file to her breast. When she got back to her car she sat there
for a while just looking at it, savouring its musty odour, anticipating the secrets
it contained. She wouldn't look at it yet- She would save it for later, when
she had more time. She was certain that she would rind the name of Norman
Openheim somewhere in that file.

Neil Watson and his team had certainly
got their feet under the table at the village hall. The ladies of the Mothers
Union had even made them a pot of tea - which was more than the police got;
they had to attend to their own catering arrangements.

Wesley was surprised to see Neil
drinking from a china cup and saucer of the classic village hall design. 'How
did you manage to get that?' he asked.

'Some lovely ladies couldn't resist
my charm. Some of us have got it and some haven't.'

'I thought you'd be at the dig.'

'Jane and Matt are there. The local
divers say the tides are wrong for diving in the bay at the moment. Dr Parsons
has arrived, by the way. She's up at the chapel now. She said she's looking forward
to seeing you again . .. wonders why you joined the
police force. I said I'd no idea.'

'Sometimes I wonder myself.'

'She thinks you're a great loss to
the world of archaeology and she said that when you showed your face I should
tell you to get up there.'

'How can I refuse an invitation like
that? I've got half an hour. I'll nip up now. You coming?'

'No ... paperwork. You know how it
is.'

Wesley knew how it was, all right.
He told the boss he was going up to the murder scene for half an hour. Heffernan
nodded knowingly and told him to knock off for the day. He'd see him tomorrow
first thing unless something turned up in the meantime.

Wesley, released from the concerns
of the day, strolled up Church Street past the mini-market and the church
towards the chantry. There were various cars parked in the layby, mostly of
ancient vintage and wearing their rust spots with pride. He pushed open the
temporary wire gate which now gave access to the site.

'Wesley Peterson ... how wonderful
to see you.' A lady of a certain age, round and with grey hair that was trying
to make its escape from an untidy bun, came running up to him and planted a early
kiss on his check. 'Neil tells me you've joined the boys in
blue. Hardly the career I would have predicted for you. I always expected you
to come back as a postgraduate student... I would have put money on it. There
was always a place for you in the department, you know, especially with your
first.'

Wesley looked sheepish, hoping
nobody had overheard. The fact that he had obtained a first-class degree was
not something he talked about in his present line of work, and to air it in the
atmosphere of the dig would sound boastful. 'It's great to see you again.
Daphne. How's it going?'

"We've started to uncover the
first body. We located a definite grave cut and we've just uncovered what looks
like a skull. Come and have a look. It's such an exciting dig ... especially
when there's been so little known about this incident apart from local
legend." She clung to Wesley's arm. her warm brown eyes twinkling with
excitement. 'Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could find some artefacts in the
graves? Have you seen what they've been bringing up from the wreck?'

'No ... it's all been taken to
Exeter. A body was found here, you know."

'Of course . .. there are several of
them. I hope.'

Dr Daphne Parsons hadn't changed.
She lived in the time she was investigating. The past was her life, the only
thing that was real to her. Wesley had always admired her single-mindedness: she
had been an inspiring teacher.

'No, there was a murder a few days
ago in this chapel. An American tourist.'

'Ob dear. I do hope we shall be safe.
Wesley. I hope whoever did it doesn't come back.'

'There's safety in numbers. Besides,
you've got police protection now." He put his arm round her shoulder.
"Are you going to be here long?'

'I'm staying in the village for a
few days... bed and breakfast. I tried to book that hotel by the sands but
apparently it's full of Americans.'

'They were here in the war, practising
for D-day. They've come back for a reunion.'

Daphne Parsons smiled knowingly.
'Oh, I remember the Yanks. I was only a little girl at the time up in Norfolk,
but I'll never forget them. They used to give us children chocolate and something
they called candy which would give any self-respecting dentist nightmares. They
were so different, so ...exciting. We children thought they were wonderful. ..
never seen anything like them before.'

'Yes ... and one of them's just got
himself killed.'

Dr Parsons gave a hearty laugh. 'Probably a jealous boyfriend... they were
fiends in the war for the girls, you know. If I'd have been a few years older
I'd have no doubt had a few more interesting memories than chocolate.'

She led Wesley over to where a group
of students were digging under Matt's authoritative eye. There was an
atmosphere of hushed expectation, of held breath, while the small area of white
bone showing in the earth expanded.

Dr Parsons clapped her hands together
ecstatically. 'We'll soon see it. Wesley. Soon we'll see the body of a man who
sailed with the Spanish Armada.'