Death of an Avid Reader (33 page)

‘Castle.'

‘Has he ever done anything like this to you?'

‘Not to me, no.'

‘To others?'

She looked at me steadily before replying. ‘I believe he has, though I would not be able to prove it. I shouldn't have asked you to come here. You don't look well, but I had a feeling that you wanted to know something, and I wondered whether I might help.'

‘I am not having much luck, to be frank.'

‘I am guessing you were looking for some trace of Marian Montague.'

‘I was but I am not now. I mistakenly thought she was the person I have advertised for, Miss Sophia Mary Ann Wells. I know the name is different but I had reasons for assuming the two might be one and the same. Miss Wells also works in a library, though I do not know which.'

‘Where did you look for Miss Wells?'

‘My assistant has checked the central library and they have no knowledge of her there, or at any of the branches. Her mother worked at Barnbow but has moved from her previous address. There is a register of city authority employees that Mr Sykes managed to see, but she was not on it.'

‘Does she have a library qualification?'

‘I don't know. She has a school leaving certificate.'

‘Come into the library in the morning. I'll make some telephone calls. One becomes acquainted with a world of people over thirty years, and there is a certain fellow feeling. Library staff may be unwilling to give information to an outsider, but I am well known, and well thought of.' She spoke rather defensively.

‘I am sure you are. I did not know it was so long.'

‘I was twenty when I started at the library, long before Mr Lennox came.'

As she spoke his name, once more that dreadful image of Lennox played itself before my eyes. But her words gave me an opening. ‘Something puzzled me today, at the meeting. Mr Lennox had previously been so enthusiastic for the library to move premises, and also – I'm sorry to say this if it pains you – hoping to make up to Marian Montague for dismissing her unfairly. Yet today, he seemed like a beaten man. What changed?'

She leaned forward a little and folded her arms across her chest. ‘I and the staff never had a fixed view about the library's future. We left that to Mr Lennox, as librarian. I don't know why or how he changed, only that he and Mr Castle had been ensconced in the office before the meeting.'

So I was right. Castle had told Lennox about the body in the basement, but why? If it were for the purpose of changing Lennox's mind about removing from the premises, it had worked. New owners would have made alterations for the menagerie in the basement. The body would be found. I could think of only one reason why Castle had ordered Marian's death, and it was not to protect Lennox from the clutches of a whore. He was covering some crime of his own.

Mrs Carmichael waited for me to speak. She hugged her legs and rocked a little back and forth.

I did not know what to say. Was it my imagination, or had she spoken Castle's name with loathing?

Suddenly she sat up straight, as if she had made up her mind about something. ‘Mrs Shackleton, why did you tell Mr Castle about that old magazine? He did not know it was in the library.'

‘He asked me what Dr Potter said to me on the day he died, and what he gave me. Once he knew, he seemed anxious to have the magazine.'

‘And did Dr Potter say anything of importance to you?'

‘No. I wish he had. It was only about articles he had written, concerning the haunting, and a story of embezzlement.'

There was a tap on the door.

Mrs Carmichael opened it and took a cup from her landlady. ‘Do you think we might run to a second cup, Mrs Harrison? My friend from the library has called to bring me a particular book.'

I exchanged how do you dos with the landlady who agreed on a second cup of cocoa, but regretted that there was only one biscuit.

Mrs Carmichael gave me her cup. ‘I think this is the kind of cocoa prisoners drink. Perhaps Father Bolingbroke is enjoying his at this very moment.'

‘I'm sure it will be lights out in the prison by now.'

She watched me take a sip of cocoa. ‘You found out who was stealing books. Who do you think killed Dr Potter? The library is beginning to feel rather dangerous.'

So that was why she had asked me here.

‘I don't know.'

‘But you have a suspicion?'

‘Yes.'

‘Will you say?'

‘I'm sorry. It would be wrong to voice a suspicion.'

‘I also have a suspicion.'

‘Can you tell me?'

She shook her head. ‘You won't, and so I won't. I only wish I could feel confident about Inspector Wallis.'

That made two of us.

I drank my cocoa, feeling we had disappointed each other. She wanted information I could not give. In turn, she was withholding something, but what?

When she walked with me to the front door, she seemed a little agitated. ‘Be very careful, Mrs Shackleton.' She spoke as if genuinely concerned for my safety.

To make light of how I felt, I tapped my satchel and made a joke. ‘Don't worry about me. I am carrying a pistol.'

She did not smile. ‘Then you should have it in your pocket.'

I was not carrying a pistol, but suddenly that seemed a very good idea.

Twenty-Nine

I had slept badly, dreaming a grinning Lennox into ghastly life. With that terrible dream logic, I knew that his eyes held the image of his murderer. He was edging towards me, willing me to look into his eyes. His lips moved but I could not make out words. He was asking questions, and then telling me something. I woke feeling a cold terror and hearing a voice say, Men can breathe, eyes can see, life to thee.

It left me cold and too scared to close my eyes again. I swung out of bed.

Drawing back the curtains revealed the most glorious dawn, orange and blue and gold. The trees in Batswing Wood were not yet bare. Among the gold, yellow and brown, a few green leaves refused to die. It takes such a long time for the leaves to turn, and to fall. If I do not look every day, it can happen suddenly, and catch me out. Occasionally, there will be a fierce wind in the night and in the morning all is changed.

As soon as I had washed and dressed, not an easy business with a sprained wrist, I went into the dining room as quietly as possible, so as not to wake the monkey.

While pretending to find each animal a terrible nuisance and the pair of them a double nuisance, Mrs Sugden has given each of them a bed. The cat has a pair of old curtains in a corner by the kitchen dresser. The dining room, which doubles as my study, is now the monkey's quarters. My typewriter sits on the sideboard. In its place on top of the filing cabinet is a plywood orange box, acquired from the greengrocer. This holds a feather pillow as mattress and a blanket artistically knitted with a diamond design from scraps of brown and green wool.

Percy opened an eye, looked at me, and went back to sleep.

I reached for a pad of paper and pencil and began to jot down what Marian and Peter had each told me the evening before.

After about half an hour, Mrs Sugden appeared, still in her dressing gown. ‘What are you doing up this early?'

‘Just in time, Mrs Sugden. I'd like you to type something.'

She stood up straight, pulling her shoulders back, trying not to smile. ‘I'll have to put kettle on first.' Mrs Sugden loves to type, having mastered the qwerty keyboard at night school. ‘And I'll boil you an egg.'

‘I'm not hungry.'

‘Aye well you didn't eat last night and you'll likely end up chasing shadows through a long day so I'll do an egg.'

This was her olive branch regarding the gun. Normally she would have presented me with a bowl of lumpy porridge.

Percy followed her. When Mrs Sugden first accidentally let him into the back garden, with Sookie, I thought we would not see him again. But he explored a little, wearing his woolly of course, came back and pushed his way in.

Whenever he comes back, Mrs Sugden says, ‘Couldn't you have lost yerself in't jungle? Do you have to come plaguing me?' Or she will open the door and shout, ‘Percy! Have yer swung yer way back to Mexico?' which is her way of calling him in.

After I had eaten the compulsory egg, Mrs Sugden set up the typewriter, double checking that she had the carbon paper the correct way round.

‘Fire away. I'm ready.'

Looking at my notes, trying as far as possible to use Marian's way of speaking, I dictated her statement. Mrs Sugden typed carefully, occasionally cursing a typing error and insisting on erasing and back-spacing to retype. She made no comments until both statements were finished.

‘These two could write a book.'

‘She could, and he could illustrate, being an artist. Do you know, I might mention that to them as a way of earning a living.'

‘There are worse ways,' she said pointedly. ‘Were you serious about wanting my pistol?'

I thought for a moment; Dr Potter strangled; Lennox battered to death; Marian in fear for her life; my close encounter with Castle in the basement.

‘I'll take the gun, just in case.'

What puzzled me was that I had not yet heard from my father. It worried me to think what I might have set in train by asking Sykes to tell him about the events of the last few days.

I was putting on my coat when Sykes came to the door. ‘Before you ask, I didn't go to Wakefield. I set off to tell your father, as you'd said, but I thought better of it before I'd gone a mile and a half.'

‘Well I'm relieved. It wasn't one of my better ideas.'

‘So what now?'

‘You could give me a lift into town. Mrs Carmichael, the deputy librarian, has offered to help us find Sophia Wells. She'll use her contacts in other libraries, make some enquiries.'

Sykes looked at his watch. ‘Library won't be open yet.'

‘I know. That's not my first port of call.'

*   *   *

Peter Donohue, carrying a small parcel, crossed the road from the market as Sykes parked the car. I followed him into the courtyard.

‘Peter!'

He turned and waited until I caught up with him. ‘What are you doing here? You'll be moving in next.'

‘I've brought notes from my own bank, to exchange for the ones Castle gave you. I hope they'll be traceable to his bank. And I have a suggestion, an idea.'

We walked up the stone steps. ‘Mam's out. She's filling in for a cleaner who's badly.' At the door, he called, ‘It's me!'

‘Hang on a minute.' The bolt shot back.

‘Morning, Marian.' I stepped inside. There was a book about Australia open on the table.

Peter said, ‘I brought you some tripe, Marian. I'm off back over to market shortly, bit of unloading.' There was just one chair and a stool. Peter perched on the corner of the table. ‘Mrs Shackleton wants me to swap that money Castle give me, but my fingerprints will be on it.'

‘Do the police have your fingerprints?' I asked.

‘No.'

‘Then don't worry.'

We exchanged bank notes. I put his in an envelope.

Marian watched, saying nothing as I tucked the envelope in the side compartment of my satchel. ‘There's something else.'

‘I thought there might be,' Marian said.

‘I typed up what you told me.' I took the statements from my bag and put them on the table.

Peter rolled a cigarette, looking down at the typed pages. ‘You said in confidence.'

Marian drew a sheet towards her. ‘You did that, with one hand?'

‘I was up early.' I waited until she had finished reading. ‘It's the gist of what you told me. I'm hoping you'll agree to sign, so that we can have Castle put where he belongs.'

She ran her fingers through her shorn hair. ‘His word against ours?'

‘Somewhere, he has your hair, your locket, your ring. There's a Guy Fawkes buried in the basement. This won't be his only crime. Other things will come to light.'

Peter shook his head. ‘Oh no. You don't catch me out like that. I'm not putting my name to owt. You said you'd keep me out of it. I don't trust coppers.'

Marian backed him up. ‘Why should Peter put himself in harm's way? Lennox and Castle have the world behind them. We have no one but you, and you promised.'

‘The police won't be interested in misdemeanours from the past, Peter. If you read it, you'll see I've chosen words carefully, knowing what to leave out, but including how Castle homed in on you from childhood.'

‘He did. I never thought of it like that. He picked me out for his own purpose.'

‘I can arrange for you both to stay somewhere out of harm's way, until the baby is born. My sister would take you in, or I have the use of a house in Robin Hood's Bay.'

Peter shook his head. ‘Nothing doing.'

‘What about you, Marian?'

‘Yes I will, but that's different. You're asking Peter to take a big risk.'

I handed Marian a pen. She hesitated. ‘And if they want me to go in and verify what I have said, someone will follow me back here and arrest Peter.'

‘I will give it to the police only if I'm sure you'll both be safe.'

Marian's hand hovered above the page.

Peter said, ‘Oh just do it.'

We watched her sign. ‘I'd like to see their faces when Castle and Lennox find out I'm alive.'

Peter reached for his own statement and glanced at it. ‘Marian's signed and so will I. I'll take my chance. You and Mam will be safe, Marian. That's what matters.'

‘Thank you.' I spoke quietly, hiding my sudden misgivings. ‘I'll stand by you. You can rely on that.'

‘Where are you going now?' Marian asked.

‘The library. I'm hoping to have some help tracing the person I'm really looking for.'

‘Is she coming into money?'

‘Possibly.'