Death of an Avid Reader (22 page)

‘What have your enquiries uncovered?'

‘Sophia's mother, Mrs Jennifer Bradshaw, worked on munitions at Barnbow. That was one wall we hit because they would not give out information, not to me. They would to you.'

He reached to the desk for a notepad and wrote down the names. ‘I'll have an enquiry made at Barnbow. If there is a connection with the library, it could have some significance. Let my sergeant know what else you have found. And you say there was something you meant to tell me?'

‘I know why Dr Potter and Umberto Bruno were in the library basement. Dr Potter bought Umberto's monkey for fifty sovereigns. He had an interest in trying to teach animals their numbers. He thought Percy, the monkey, he's a Capuchin, would make a good subject.'

The inspector leaned back, pulled in his chin and stared at me, as if I were mad. ‘What? How do you know this?'

‘I called at Big Bothy, Dr Potter's house, to extend condolences on behalf of the library. No one else had, you see.'

‘When was this?'

‘Yesterday, after I came here.'

‘And after you prevailed upon Mr Castle to … bring pressure on me to take off the handcuffs.'

‘Yes.'

‘You've been very busy, but how do you know Dr Potter intended to buy the animal? What evidence do you have?'

‘Umberto had a heavy money bag tied to his waist, a bag of coins. I thought it must be coppers and that I would look after it for him. A sick room is no place for a dirty bag of old coins. When I saw it was sovereigns, I thought it must be his life savings and I had better take care of them.'

‘You did not think to hand the money over to the police?'

‘I knew he was innocent. You had not charged him. I thought you were protecting him, as a witness.'

‘I had better have the bag of money. I'll send someone for it later.'

‘I'll tell my housekeeper.'

‘And the monkey?'

‘He's at my house.'

Inspector Wallis leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

‘I didn't take him, Inspector. He found his way into my car on Friday afternoon.'

‘Are your sure he cadged a ride? You didn't abduct him?'

‘My car was parked outside the library. I gave Miss Merton a lift and neither of us saw or heard the creature. Later a neighbour's child came to tell me that he heard sounds in my garage.'

‘I won't take the monkey into custody just yet.' The inspector gave himself a little shake, and sat up straight again. ‘Is there anything else you have found out?'

‘Nothing important.'

‘Tell me.'

‘Dr Potter was all in favour of the library moving to new premises. He would have persuaded people to agree with him. He was that kind of man.'

‘And the relevance of that is?'

‘I don't know. Probably not relevant.'

He ran a hand over his hair, as if trying to smooth out the wave. I noticed that on his left hand he wore a signet ring, with his initials. ‘There's some connection, or you would not have mentioned it.'

‘Perhaps, but I can't think what. I suppose it surprises me that Dr Potter was in favour of change, given his long family connection with the library. It's a separate matter, but when I read Dr Potter's student account of a ghost, there was something odd.'

‘Can you say what?'

‘Not precisely. You will see he mentions that the librarian claimed to have heard a sound from the basement prior to the ghost's appearance, and it now makes me wonder.'

‘What?'

He smiled, and so did I. We were both looking at insignificant details when what was at stake was so enormous. His slow and pernickety questioning, suggesting that he wanted to find the truth, sat uneasily alongside the way he had so quickly jumped to the conclusion that Umberto Bruno was guilty. It made no sense.

‘Go on,' he prompted. ‘What makes you wonder?'

‘The sound and the way he described the apparition makes me think that it was not a ghost.'

He chuckled, crinkling the laughter lines around his eyes. ‘So, unsurprisingly, the logical mathematician did not believe in ghosts. What was his explanation?'

‘That it was a student prank. I think someone with a key had let himself in the back door of the library to give the librarian a scare, perhaps even young Potter himself. There was not a great age difference. McAllister was twenty-four years old.'

‘Dr Potter had keys I believe, passed to him through the family.'

‘Yes.'

‘That would solve the mystery of the ghost. I hope I may be able to find the missing counter assistant for you, and for myself.'

‘Thank you.' I felt glad that, needing his help, I had given him something to think about. ‘You are wrong about Umberto Bruno, Inspector.'

‘You have another suspect in mind?'

I hesitated. He must know that my neighbour, Professor Merton, and Dr Potter were rivals for the post of university vice chancellor, and that the professor was also in the library on Friday. Pointing fingers was not my way of going about things.

‘I only know that it was not Umberto. I called to see him after I had worked out that he was in the basement to sell his monkey. He confirmed it, saying Dr Potter had wanted to buy Percy since the summer and he had only given in now because of being unwell, and I suppose penniless, though he did not say that.'

‘I am glad that you agree Umberto Bruno is capable of giving a statement.'

‘He didn't…'

‘Mrs Shackleton, I will do what I can to find the missing counter assistant, for my reasons as much as yours. But you must do something for me.'

I waited.

‘Keep out of this murder enquiry. Do me the courtesy of believing that I know what I am doing, and very soon I shall be putting Umberto Bruno in the dock.'

Twenty-Two

Waiting on events is the most enervating non-activity in the world. I confess to being not very good at it. It especially did not help that Percy was once more pounding the piano. I was glad of the diversion when Mrs Sugden, twitching the drawing room curtains, said, ‘There he is again.'

‘Who?'

‘There's someone lurking about. I don't like the look of him.'

‘What kind of someone?'

‘A biggish chap, long arms.'

I went to the window. ‘Where?'

‘Disappeared again.'

‘What was he doing?'

‘Trying to be inconspicuous but looking about him, as if he didn't know which house to burgle. It's these dark nights when you have to watch out. Let them know your house is occupied. That's why I left a light on in here, with the upshot that our Percy found the piano key again. Music mad he is.'

I thought about poor Dr Potter and his plans to teach animals mathematics. He was right to choose Percy. If any animal showed an instinct for numbers, it would be this little Capuchin, with his sharp intellect. Unfortunately, his love of music and his ability to be tuneful were seriously at odds. To save a headache coming on, I gave him the sovereigns to play with. ‘See if you can count them, Percy.'

He began to sort the coins into piles.

I went upstairs to change. Percy monkey followed. He hid behind the wicker chair, peeping.

I covered my eyes. ‘Go on. Hide properly. I'll count to ten.'

At this rate I would be as mad as poor Dr Potter. Quick glimpse of me aged fifty-five, dyed hair, colourful frock, touring with a fairground. Kate and Percy, the amazing double act.

‘Ten! Coming, ready or not.' The clever little creature had vanished. I looked under the bed and behind the curtains. ‘Where are you?'

The slightest of sounds came from the wardrobe. I opened the door. There he was, tucked behind the clothes, grasping a handful of silk, my Delphos robe. ‘Found you! Come out, come out, and let go of that very carefully.' He made no move until I held out my hand.

Oh dear. I could see my business draining away. Kate can't investigate today. She has to play hide and seek with a monkey.

Mrs Sugden called suddenly from downstairs. ‘Go to the front window. He's coming back!'

I was in my back bedroom that looks onto the wood. Hurrying across the landing, I went into the front bedroom and peered through the window.

The man was about five feet nine inches tall, with bow legs and long arms. He walked with a swagger. Where had I seen him before?

He gave a quick glance about, thought himself unseen, opened the Mertons' gate, went into their garden, and peered through the front window. What a sneak; a man after my own heart.

From her vantage point at the front window, Mrs Sugden called, ‘He's walking round the back.'

‘Are they at home? I'll telephone.'

‘He'll be through that there door and murdering them in their beds before you do that.'

‘Don't be so melodramatic. They're not going to be in their beds at this time of the evening.'

‘Murder at tea time, that's what it'll be. She has a strand of pearls that belonged to her great-aunt Harriet. I'm going over there.'

‘Are you mad?'

‘She's my friend. I'll swear that sneaky blighter has a weapon.'

Before I could stop her, the valiant Mrs Sugden left the drawing room, hurried into the hall, and opened the front door. Percy showed no sign of following but bounded towards the drawing room window to watch, no doubt having had enough of the open air and damp dark nights.

‘That's it. You stay here, Percy. Practise your scales and count your money.'

I slipped on my shoes and picked up a coat from the hall stand.

By the time I went through the front door, Mrs Sugden, moving like a greyhound out of a trap, was across the street. As I reached the gate, she was disappearing round the back of the Mertons' house. I hurried after her, across the cobbles, through the creaking front gate and up the path.

A loud bang cut the air. It was unmistakeably a gunshot. A strangled cry followed.

‘Mrs Sugden!' I practically tripped over my own feet in the rush to reach her.

She was standing by the Mertons' back door, holding a pistol.

Swaying as he moved, a figure disappeared into the bushes that separated this garden from the one next door.

Mrs Sugden burst into life, hurrying to the hedge. ‘Stop!'

I grabbed her arm. ‘What are you trying to do, kill the man?'

‘I got the blighter in the leg. He had a rifle.'

‘Stop waving that gun about.'

‘I'm not waving it. I know how to use a pistol.'

‘Put it away for God's sake. Now stay here!'

I followed the direction the man had taken. The thing he had dropped was not a rifle but a big stick. I waved it at Mrs Sugden. ‘This it, then? This his deadly weapon?'

‘He was up to no good.'

‘Go home.'

Miss Merton opened the kitchen door.

Mrs Sugden hovered.

Miss Merton looked about. ‘Is it someone letting off bangers?'

‘Yes, but they've gone now.'

Miss Merton stepped into the yard. ‘It beats me why they can't wait till Bonfire Night to let off their firecrackers.'

‘He was in the garden. You go back in, Miss Merton. You'll catch cold. I'll see if I can spot him.'

Before she had time to protest that there was no need to chase someone who had let off a banger, I pushed my way through the hedge. Twigs scratched my face. A bramble caught my sleeve. Mrs Sugden tagged along behind, the smoking gun out of sight now.

‘Go home. I'll deal with this.'

She ignored my order.

‘I'm not leaving you.'

There was a gap in the hedge in the next garden. Unhindered, we walked through three more back gardens almost as far as Headingley Lane, emerging through a front gate only when we reached a dense, impassable hedge.

There was no sign of the man, not on our street or on the main thoroughfare.

Slowly, we made our way back up the street. ‘You go home. I'll talk to Miss Merton. And if there are still bullets in that pistol, get rid of them.'

*   *   *

I have never been in the Mertons' kitchen before. Everything appeared entirely up-to-date, including the shiny gas stove. Someone had been ironing. Two piles of neatly folded handkerchiefs stood on the corner of the dresser.

‘The coast is clear, Miss Merton. Whoever it was has gone. We should all keep our doors locked on these dark nights.'

‘Well thank you for being so vigilant. I'll be glad when Bonfire Night is over and done.'

‘Are you alone?'

‘Yes, but don't worry about me. I am quite capable of hitting an intruder over the head with a frying pan.'

‘Where is your brother?'

‘Working late, some tutorial with his prize student, there aren't many students he regards highly but this one brought him a particularly fine fossil, so he tells me. Have a seat. I was hoping to talk to you.'

I sat down at the kitchen table.

‘Will you have a cup of tea, or something stronger?'

‘No, thank you. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?'

‘You first, Mrs Shackleton. Why do you want to see Theodore?'

‘He and Dr Potter had a lot to do with each other, didn't they? I wanted to say how sorry I am about the death.'

‘Oh, I see. I thought you were going to ask me had Theodore received death threats.'

‘Has he?'

‘Wait here.'

Moments later she returned with two envelopes. Holding them carefully, using only finger and thumb, she took from each envelope an octavo-size sheet of paper and placed them side by side on the kitchen table.

The first one included a neatly sketched dagger that dripped red-ink blood. Block capitals read, ‘
STAY PUT
.'

The second featured a pistol and was equally simply worded: ‘
DON'T DO IT
.'

‘Has he shown these to anyone?'