The Measby Murder Enquiry (35 page)

“Oh my God!” said Deirdre, running her hands anxiously through her apricot curls. “Do you mean Doris May has an informant here in this village?”

“I’m afraid that’s probably so,” said Gus. “Which means, as I’m sure Ivy has concluded already, that we have to act quickly. So what do we do, Ivy?”

“You know perfectly well, Gus. And who better to do it? We visit a gambling den, and the nearest is Ozzy’s Casino in Thornwell.”

Gus paled. “Must I?” he said.

“Why not?” Deirdre said. “You’re not trying to tell us there’s any danger for you in going to a crummy little casino in a provincial town like Thornwell. You’d never even been to the place before you moved to Barrington.”

“There’s danger and danger,” said Gus enigmatically. “But so long as I have someone with me, I’m willing to go. Are you up to it, Deirdre?” he added, and Ivy noticed a pleading note in his voice. What was all this? A smooth, sophisticated operator like Gus, apparently nervous of visiting a small-town casino?

Deirdre was thinking much the same, but then it clicked. Addiction. She had forgotten but now realised this would be difficult for him.

“I’ve got a better idea,” she said. “I know Theo has been a gambler in his time, mainly up in London at the big casinos, but he probably knows quite a bit about the local one as well. Why don’t I ask him to take me for an evening at Ozzy’s? I’m almost sure he’d think it was a big laugh. A fun thing to do. What d’you think, Gus? I’m not doubting your experience, but—”

He interrupted her eagerly. “No, no. Great idea, Deirdre. Should have thought of it myself. Theo is our man. Can you organise it fairly swiftly?”

Deirdre looked at her watch. “He’ll be in town until this afternoon,” she said. “I’ll ring him after lunch.”

Ivy and Roy had listened to the other two without speaking, and now Roy looked across at Ivy and said, “So what shall we do? There must be something.”

“Oh, yes, there is,” she said. “We think of a nice, friendly outing for you, me and Alwen. Something that takes most of the day. Somewhere where she can’t storm off in a huff, or in tears.”

“A day out together, when we can have a nice long chat?” said Roy, his old face creased in smiles. “I can think of just the place, my love.”

NEXT MORNING, ALWEN was already at the breakfast table when Roy and Ivy came into the dining room. She turned and looked at them, and nodded without smiling. “Good morning, both,” she said in a voice that sounded as if it had emerged from some dark dungeon beneath.

“Good morning, Alwen!” said Roy. On an impulse he leaned over and planted a small kiss on her pale cheek. “And how are we this fine morning? ‘The sun is shining to welcome the day, and it’s hey, ho, come to the fair!’ ” He produced a quavery tenor voice and sang the last encouraging line.

This was too much for Ivy. “That’s quite enough of that, Roy,” she said. “Really, Alwen,” she said confidingly, “you’d think he’d been at the brandy bottle before breakfast!”

“Just trying to cheer up this young lady here,” Roy said, winking at Ivy. He was growing more sure of her, and had decided that a little gentle teasing would be good for their future relationship.

Earlier on, they had worked out a plan for persuading Alwen to go with them on an outing for the day. Fortunately Mrs. Spurling had gone to visit an ailing sister, and Miss Pinkney was in charge. Roy had had a word with her, and she had agreed that both she and Mrs. Spurling had been worried lately about Mrs. Wilson Jones. She had seemed so depressed, and nothing would lift her out of it. Yes, she said with enthusiasm, it would be a very good idea if Roy and Ivy could persuade her to have a day out with them.

“It would take her out of herself,” Pinkers had said, and she agreed to do what she could to persuade the poor soul.

Now the three sat at the table and Ivy and Roy tucked into scrambled eggs and bacon, while Alwen toyed with a piece of dry toast.

“We were wondering,” began Roy, “whether you’d be able to do us a favour today, Alwen?”

“Depends what it is,” she muttered.

“Well, it’s like this. Ivy and I have for some time wanted to pay a visit to Easterwold on the coast.”

“Cold, wet and windy, that’s Easterwold,” Alwen said.

“Now, now, Alwen,” Roy said, patting her hand. “Look out of that window. A beautiful blue sky likely to be so for a whole day, according to the weather forecast. We plan to have our special taxi to take us over and bring us back, and we want you to come with us. Don’t we, Ivy?”

Ivy said there was plenty of room in the taxi, even with Roy’s vehicle aboard, and it would be a comfortable ride.

“Why do you want me to come?” Alwen said suspiciously.

Roy was about to reply when Ivy got in first. “Because you could share the expense of the taxi,” she said bluntly. “It’ll be quite a bit, and Roy and me, well, we’re not made of money.”

Roy’s heart sank. Ivy had really put her foot in it this time. But to his amazement, Alwen began to chuckle. “I like that, Ivy,” she said. “There’s a lot to be said for plain speaking.” She looked across at Roy. “All right then. What time is the taxi coming? And if you take my advice, you’ll put an umbrella in your bag.”

THE DRIVE TO Easterwold was, as promised by Roy, comfortable and relaxing. The taxi was adapted to take Roy’s vehicle, and there was plenty of room for the ladies to sit and gaze out of the windows. The last few miles took them through colourful heathland and marshes, where flocks of birds rose up as they passed, and Alwen proved to know their names, much to Ivy’s annoyance. She had lived in the country all her life, and apart from knowing a sparrow from a robin, and a blue tit from a blackbird, she did not consider it necessary to join the loony company of bird-watching twitchers, who went from one end of the country to the other in pursuit of the greater spotted bobtailed whatsit.

“I saw a marsh harrier once,” Roy said cheerfully. “Made my day, that did.”

The taxi dropped them in the centre of the village, and Alwen looked around with interest. “My goodness, it’s changed since I was last here,” she said. “All these people! It was a shabby, empty little place then. But according to George, it had once been a busy trading port. Corn, timber and, of course, fish, so he said. Funny,” she added, “I’ve not thought of Easterwold for years and years, and now I remember things like that. A real symptom of old age, that is.”

“There’s a nice little café for a coffee, girls,” Roy said, at once assuming a jaunty holiday air, determined not to let Alwen’s spirits sink. “Follow me, and I’ll treat you to a toasted tea cake.” He parked his vehicle outside, and they went in, selecting a table by the window.

“We’ll probably have to settle for one of them muffin things these days,” Ivy said, but had to backtrack when a pleasant girl in a frilly apron said of course they could have a toasted tea cake. “With jam or marmalade?” she added.

Alwen commented that there seemed to be an awful lot of tourists around, unlike when she was a girl, and was told that, on the contrary, it was near the end of the season now, and numbers were definitely down. “You should see the place when we have the sand castle championships!” the girl said. “Can’t move for kids, young and old!”

Ivy looked at Alwen, and thought that if they did no more today than produce that amused expression on her face, they would have done a good deed. But there was more to do, and she suggested they have a stroll round the village, and then they found a place to sit in the sun and watch the boats until lunchtime. That would be the time to bring the talk round to Alwen’s family, the Wilsons, and drop Doris May casually into the conversation. Meanwhile, she had to admit, it was a lovely day and she was enjoying herself no end.

They found a seat out of the wind, and chatted idly about this and that, mostly things that had happened to them in the past, and Ivy began to talk about her mother. “She did love me, I suppose, but not like people love today,” she said and, to his delight, took Roy’s hand. “My poor father could do nothing right, and it was the same for me.
She
was always right, of course, and there was no chance of a fair argument with her. She just came down like a ton of bricks, and if you knew what was good for you, you gave in and let her be right.”

She paused, hoping for some response from Alwen about her own family, but there was nothing. She merely remarked that it made such a difference to children if they knew they were loved.

After a while, the wind seemed to change direction, and Roy suggested they move on. “Getting a bit chilly,” he said. “Why don’t we find the church and have a look inside. I know Ivy likes churches, and I find the history in them fascinating. What do you think, Alwen? Up to a stroll?”

Alwen said she was fine, but if it was too far and her hip became painful, she would rest and wait for the others. “I do appreciate what you’re trying to do, you two,” she said, and Ivy felt a moment’s shame. After all, the real reason was to pump Alwen for more information about the Wilsons in general, and Doris May in particular. Still, if a day out was cheering up Alwen, that was a bonus.

Once out of the wind, the three wandered happily through the village, asking an elderly woman laden with supermarket shopping bags if she could direct them to the church and receiving far more information than they needed.

“If we’d looked around,” said Ivy crossly, “we can see the church tower over there, behind that big hotel.”

“Ah, but then we’d not have known that the first Queen Elizabeth slept in that hotel, and that helpful old thing’s ancestors had emptied Her Majesty’s chamber pot,” Roy said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ivy said. “Come on, Alwen, it’s only a few steps further, just around the corner. Then you can have a rest in a pew. Let’s hope the church is open.”

“Bound to be,” said Roy. “I read up on it, and it’s very historic with lots to see. With all these tourists around, it’ll certainly be open, with a collecting box well to the fore.”

It was open, and Roy drove slowly up the ramp into the dark interior. Inside they were welcomed by a spruce grey-haired man who, when exchanging pleasantries with Roy, announced himself as chief volunteer. “Anything you need to know, just ask me,” he said. “And madam,” he added to Alwen, “if you would like a tranquil corner with a comfortable seat, we have reserved the side chapel over there for the purpose.”

After having had most of the objects of interest pointed out to them, Roy and Ivy had had enough, and joined Alwen in the chapel.

“She’s gone to sleep!” Ivy whispered.

“No I haven’t,” Alwen said, her eyes popping open. “It has been so nice just to sit here and think. Are you ready to go?”

“Nope, it’s our turn to rest now. And maybe ask for a bit of guidance,” Ivy said humbly. “I always do that in churches. You never know who’s listening. It can be quite helpful, I find.”

They were quiet for a few minutes, and then Roy nudged Ivy. “Needs help!” he mouthed at her, and then looked at Alwen. She had taken a handkerchief from her handbag and held it in front of her face. Muffled sounds quite clearly indicated that she was once more in tears.

Ivy shook her head at Roy. “Wait,” she whispered.

They waited until the sounds stopped and Alwen mopped her eyes. “Sorry,” she said.

“Tell us,” said Roy. “We might be able to help.”

“It’s your Bronwen, isn’t it,” Ivy said. “Is there trouble there?”

Alwen nodded and sniffed. “It’s money, I’m afraid. Always has been with Bronwen. Always wanted more than she could afford to pay for. Now it’s out of control, and I can’t help. I couldn’t help her father, and now I can’t help her. But don’t worry, Ivy, I’ll find a way. It just gets me down sometimes. If she had a good husband to rely on, it would be different. But he’s useless. Vain and stupid. But don’t worry,” she repeated. “I shall find a way.”

She rose to her feet, tried a tremulous smile, and said they should be looking for somewhere to have a snack. “Must be the sea air,” she said bravely. “I feel quite hungry. How about you two?”