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Authors: Ann Purser

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“Oh yes, he was a real gentleman, you know. But anyway, you would know that, being his friends.”

Ivy nodded, and looked again at the window. “I could get out there, couldn’t I?” she said. “The sill is very close to the floor and close to the roof outside. Not much more than stepping over a cat!”

“That’s right,” said Mrs. Feather. “It was very convenient for him.”

Before the landlady could stop her, Ivy had pushed up the sash window to its full extent and neatly climbed out onto the flat roof.

“Miss Beasley! Are you safe out there?”

“Perfectly safe, thank you,” she said, and walked over to the edge. She looked down into next door’s concrete yard, full of old lawn mowers and piles of wood. And she spotted something else. A man, wearing what looked like pyjamas, lay spread-eagled on the concrete, and even from the height of the roof Ivy could see his limbs were awkwardly bent. She peered over again and saw a familiar head of thick black hair.

“Mrs. Feather!” she called. “Can you come here?”

“Oh dear, no, I have no head for heights, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand,” Ivy reassured her. “I just need you to see something, before it disappears. That’s it, dear, you’ll be quite safe with me.”

Thirty-nine

ROY WAITED ANXIOUSLY for Ivy and Mrs. Feather to return, and he supposed they must have found Ulph. They were probably encouraging him to come down, so that they could all have a good talk. Thank goodness the poor fellow was feeling better. He had seemed such a nice chap, though clearly unhappy and worried. Perhaps Ivy was just what he needed. She was famous for putting things right!

Now he could hear footsteps on the stairs, and stood up, holding on to his chair.

“Ah, there you are, my dear,” he said. “And is the invalid receiving visitors now?”

The two women looked at each other. Ivy said, “You go and telephone,” and then walked across to Roy to suggest he should sit down again for a moment. Mrs. Feather, meanwhile, went out to the hallway, and Roy could hear her telephoning.

“What’s to do, Ivy?” he said. “You look quite pale. Those stairs were too much for you, though I don’t expect you to admit it!”

“No, it’s not the stairs. Looks like Sebastian Ulph is past receiving visitors. There’s a flat roof outside the window in his room, and he must have gone out there with a chair and a bottle of wine. We looked around but no sign of him. There was no safety fence or anything, and when I looked over the edge—”

“You did
what
, Ivy?” interrupted Roy.

“Oh, I don’t mind heights. Anyway, there he was. Flat out on the concrete yard below. More or less dead, I suspect. His arms and legs were all anyhow. Mrs. Feather is phoning the police, so we’ll have to stay here a bit longer.”

Roy was confused for a few minutes. The baldness of the news was almost too much to take in, but his main concern was Ivy herself. “You must sit down, too, my love. There, in the chair next to me. Take it easy, and we’ll try to unravel what has happened.”

“The police and ambulance are coming straightaway,” said Mrs. Feather, returning to the room. “I’ll go and put the kettle on. We all need a good strong cup of tea with sugar. And don’t worry, Mr. Goodman, the police will sort it all out.”

DEIRDRE WAS WEEDING in the garden when she heard the telephone. She rushed back inside, kicking off her gardening shoes, and lifted the receiver.

“Hello? Ivy, is that you? No, I’m not busy. Of course I’m alone! What’s up?”

After a minute or so, Deirdre pulled up a stool and sat
down heavily. “Oh my God! How on earth did that happen? What did you say? The signal’s not too good.”

“I said, it is a clear case of ‘did he fall or was he pushed?’ Anyway, the reason I’m ringing you, is that we have dismissed our taxi and shall need a lift back home when the police have finished with us. Can you come? Oh, good, thanks Deirdre. I’ll let you know when we’re ready. Oh, here they come. Bye.”

Deirdre was trembling. That poor man, with his bad leg. He had been so polite, and she had not been very nice to him. And now he was dead. It was hard to believe, and yet there had been something doomed about him. She told herself she was being ridiculous. But the memory of his pale face and dark eyes returned as she poured a large whisky and began to drink.

When she was calmer, she decided to ring Gus. His phone rang for a long time, and eventually the mechanical voice clicked in. She left no message. The best thing she could do was have a shower and walk down to Hangman’s Row. He should be back by then, and if not, a walk would do her good.

But then what about fetching Ivy and Roy? And how was she going to get Roy’s trundle in her car? Perhaps Ivy had been too shocked to have thought of this. She rang her on her mobile, and Ivy agreed that they would order the special taxi instead. Apparently a sympathetic policeman had told them he wouldn’t keep them any longer than was necessary.

It was midafternoon when Deirdre finally set off for Gus’s cottage. The sun was still high, and the warmth was comforting as she walked at a steady pace through the village. When she turned into the lane, she could see Miriam
Blake in her front garden, chatting to Rose Budd over the low wall dividing the cottages. They turned to watch her approach, and before she got to Gus’s, they hailed her with a cheery wave.

“‘Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun!’” quoted Miriam with a smile. “We were just saying that we should soon be seeing signs of autumn. How are you, Mrs. Bloxham?”

“Very well, thank you, and not mad, I hope,” Deirdre replied. “I’m on my way to see Mr. Halfhide.”

“Not there, I’m afraid,” said Rose. “I saw him go off quite early this morning, and he hasn’t come back yet, so far as I know.”

“True,” said Miriam, not to be outdone. “I heard Whippy whining and went round to let her out into the garden. Gave her fresh water, too, poor little thing. Funny, that. Gus usually asks me to keep an eye on her if he’s going to be gone long. “

“Ah, well. I’ll give him a ring later. Thanks, anyway.” Deirdre turned to go back home, and saw a tall figure approaching. “Oh, look!” she said, relieved. “There he is, just coming down the lane.” She waved, and walked to meet him.

“Hello, Deirdre,” he said, frowning. “What brings you down here?”

“You, you silly chump!” she replied. “I came to call but found you were nowhere to be seen. Miriam and Rose said you’d gone out, so I was going home. But now you can give me a cup of tea. I’ve got news for you, but not nice news, I’m afraid.”

GUS’S RECEPTION OF the news was oddly calm. He said that as his cottage was so dreary and depressing, he
would walk back with her to Tawny Wings and would stay while they talked over the distressing news.

“I expect Ivy and Roy will be back by now,” Deirdre said as they walked past Springfields. “We won’t disturb them. They must have had quite a shock, and even though Ivy sometimes seems bombproof, they are probably both feeling a bit shaken up.”

Gus agreed, and they walked on, waving to Theo Roussel as he drove past them in his Land Rover.

“I was going to see him today,” Deirdre said. “But I think I’ll leave it until we find out more about Ulph. Things have changed a lot since we last talked. And, by the way, were you out investigating today? Miriam said you hadn’t left a note for her to mind Whippy, so she was doing it anyway.”

Gus scowled. “That woman is altogether too nosey!” he said. “I try to creep out without her seeing, but it’s impossible. No, I didn’t tell her I would be out, and Whippy was perfectly happy for an hour or two. Now, here we are, Deirdre. One of your ice-cold pink gins would be just the ticket, don’t you think?”

In the shade of the spreading mulberry tree in Deirdre’s garden, they drank in silence for a while. Then Gus said he had a lot to consider, but had she had any thoughts about who might have wanted to get Ulph permanently out of the way? When she talked to her friend Sid, had he told her any personal details about his best saxophone player?

“Not really. Sid was sad to see him go. But I didn’t speak to him for long. I did get the impression, though, that Ulph had been very private and hadn’t made close friends with any of the band. They all liked him, but he kept his distance.”

Gus was quiet again, and Deirdre got up to refill their
glasses. “Would you like to stay for supper?” she said. “I don’t fancy being on my own this evening.”

“That would be nice, Deirdre. But I think I should perhaps go back to the cottage, in case Whippy has had enough of Miriam.”

“She’ll be fine,” Deirdre said. “Dogs don’t mind nosey women, just so long as they stroke their ears and give them bones. I’ll go and look in the freezer and see if there’s something delicious for us. I don’t know about you, but I’m not really hungry yet.”

She went off, carrying their glasses, and Gus watched her go. What a lovely girl! But now things had changed, and maybe for the worse. He was haunted by Kath’s phone call yesterday. What had she said? Not to acknowledge her if he met her around locally? She didn’t say when she was coming, but it had sounded like soon.

Forty

“DON’T YOU THINK you should ring her?” Deirdre said. She and Gus were sitting on the terrace at Tawny Wings, digesting their supper and sipping iced coffee. She had been asking questions about Katherine, trying to find out tactfully the nature of their relationship now, and he had told her about the latest call.

“I’ve tried,” he said. “I tried her mobile when you were cooking. No answer, so I left a message for her to ring me. I am afraid it’s what I expected. She seldom answers, unless it’s someone she wants to talk to.”

“Won’t she want to talk to you?”

“No.”

Deirdre shrugged. “More coffee?” she offered.

Gus shook his head, and leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes. Deirdre wondered if he had gone to sleep, poor chap. But he began to talk, almost as if to himself.

“I don’t know how I was so blind about Kath. After all,
my former job was information gathering. Once or twice in the past I had to confront danger face on, but more often I lurked in the shadows.”

“Lurking in the shadows is dangerous, isn’t it?” Deirdre spoke softly, and his eyes remained closed.

“Sometimes, yes. Depends on the enemy. If he is clever and ruthless, it can be very dangerous.”

“Or she?” Deirdre said. “Is Katherine clever and ruthless?”

“Yes,” said Gus. He opened his eyes and smiled at Deirdre. “Shall we have a swim?” he suggested. “No need for cozzies. We’re not overlooked. Then I must go home.”

“Let’s skip the swim, shall we? If you’ve got another hour or so…” All unpleasantness forgotten, they went hand in hand upstairs.

IVY AND ROY were very tired by the time they arrived back at Springfields. Miss Pinkney was waiting for them and ushered them into the now empty lounge.

“All the other residents have retired to their rooms, so we can have a peaceful hot drink. Come along, my dears, it is all ready for you. I really don’t think the police should have kept you so long without food.”

“It wasn’t them,” Roy explained. “We were ready much earlier, and Mrs. Feather made us a sandwich. But our special taxi was out on another job, and we had to wait until he could come for us.”

“Never mind, you’re home now. Katya insisted on staying late and baking these cookies for you. She’s a good girl. I do hope she stays with us, though her boyfriend seems very attentive!”

“He’s still a student, so they won’t be thinking about marriage yet,” said Roy.

Ivy had said very little, and he wondered if she was feeling all right. Just tired, maybe. She drank her Horlicks and ate a couple of cookies and then said she was ready for bed. “I’ll see you both in the morning,” she said, and bent to kiss Roy’s cheek. “Night night, my love. You were a good ole boy. Night, Pinkers.”

She walked slowly away and up the stairs. Roy and Miss Pinkney watched her in silence. Then, when she was safely in her room, Miss Pinkney began to gather the crocks on a tray.

“Just a minute, Miss Pinkney,” Roy said. “Have you time for a little talk?”

She sat down. “Of course, Mr. Goodman. How can I help?”

“I am a little worried about Ivy. She looked so tired, didn’t she? The afternoon’s events must have been a great strain for her. She had to go over the whole story with the police, finding Ulph’s body and coping with Mrs. Feather. Mind you, that one was very tough. Seemed mostly concerned with the bad publicity for her lodging house.”

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