Season of Darkness Read online

  “Did she say anything?”

  “She just sort of cried out, ‘Oh no, Elsie. I warned you.’ ”

  “Warned her about what?” Tyler asked.

  “I don’t know, Tom. She never said. Bobby had got into quite a state, shaking like a leaf. Like I said, this wasn’t the first time I seen a dead body and I was thinking more clearly. Not that it wasn’t a shock, it certainly was, young girl like that. I thought at least we could get Sir Percy, seeing as he’s a magistrate, and he’d be likely to be on the telephone. Somebody had to stay here and I thought it best be me, so I bundled Bobby into our lorry, telling him to take the lassie back to the billet. I ordered her not to talk to anybody. Just to say there’d been an accident. No sense in upsetting everybody until we know exactly what’s happened here.”

  “Good thinking, Ron. You kept a cool head. What time was it when you found her?”

  “It was about ten to seven. I’d say death had definitely occurred within the previous hour. She were still warm but the blood was no longer flowing.”

  Suddenly, there was a frantic flapping of wings and loud cawing as a flight of rooks flew out of the trees. Tyler jumped, aware his nerves were on edge. Ellwood tensed as well.

  “That’s probably Dr. Murnaghan coming, but I don’t want anybody else driving through here. There’s some police tape in my car. We can use that to create a barrier across the road. We’ll stay here until reinforcements arrive.”

  He held out his hand to pull Ellwood to his feet.

  “I don’t remember anything like this happening here since Mrs. Evans clobbered her husband with a plank,” said the corporal.

  Tyler gave him a grim smile. “Rhys Evans was a miserable bastard who deserved what he got. It’s hard to see Elsie Bates deserving this.”

  5.

  DR. MURNAGHAN ARRIVED SO QUICKLY THAT TYLER wondered if the coroner had been sitting by his telephone waiting for a call, any call. He examined the body, made the official declaration of death, and concurred with Tyler that Elsie had been moved and had not committed suicide. He promised an immediate post-mortem. “Corpses aren’t exactly stacking up outside my door,” he said.

  Sergeant Gough had rounded up six constables, and they arrived a few minutes later. Three older men, three young fellows, all looking apprehensive. The body was transferred to the police van, and with orders to return, one of the older ones drove off. The coroner followed in his own car.

  Tyler organized the remaining men.

  “We’re looking for anything and everything. Use your noggins but let me be the judge of what’s important and what isn’t. Maybe our killer dropped his identification card to make our life easier, but I wouldn’t count on it. If you see any kind of tire tracks, put in a marker. Let’s put tape around the pass-by and the spot where she was shot. I want one of you to concentrate on that area. We’ve got the casing, but there should be a bullet somewhere. It may have ricocheted off the rocks so look carefully.”

  One of the young constables was carrying the camera.

  Tyler addressed him. “Collis, I want pictures of every inch of the surrounding area. If you’re going to toss your biscuits, give the job to somebody else. If you’re going to continue in the police force, do it yourself.”

  “Yes, sir. Right away.”

  “What would you like me to do, Tom?” asked Ellwood.

  “Best thing is probably to get over to the camp. Make sure Percy delivered the news like he said. You can use one of the men’s bicycles. I’ll be there later.”

  He beckoned to one of the constables.

  “Come with me.”

  Constable Eagleton was young, pink-cheeked, and enthusiastic. He had joined the police department when he’d been turned down by the war office because of his flat feet. He was smart and hard working and had soon earned the nickname of Eager. Tyler walked with him along the road to where the lorry that he’d passed on the way in was parked.

  “Do you know anything about engines, Eager?”

  “A bit, sir.”

  Tyler handed him the key he’d found in Elsie’s pocket. Initially, the engine turned over feebly, but Eagleton managed to coax it into life.

  “I think it was just flooded, sir.”

  Tyler walked around the lorry, examining it carefully. He could see nothing amiss. The same was true of the interior. Clumps of mud dotted the floor, but otherwise it was bare.

  “We’ll give it a more thorough going-over later,” he said to Eagleton. “I don’t think we’re going to find much. I’m guessing it conked out on Elsie, she flooded the engine trying to get it restarted, decided to leave it, and took off from here on her bicycle. Unfortunately to her death.… All right, let’s get back. Do you have a handkerchief with you, lad?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Is it clean?”

  “Yes, sir. Fresh today.”

  “Good. Don’t blow your nose or wipe your face. There are some items at the crime scene that we will have to have examined. I’ve wrapped the gun. Whatever you do, don’t touch it. Keep it in the handkerchief. The flowers and the items that were in Miss Bates’s pocket should also be given to the sergeant. You can wrap them in your handkerchief in the same way.”

  Finally, everything was underway and Tyler left them to their tasks. He set off for Beeton Manor, not relishing his own task ahead.

  At the beginning of the summer, the War Ministry had expropriated the dower house at Beeton Manor to billet Land Army girls. Lady Somerville, grumbling, had been forced to move in with her son. Percy was a confirmed bachelor, and although by most standards he was rattling around in such a large house, gossip had it that neither he nor his mother were too happy with this new, closer arrangement. He got away as frequently as he could.

  Tyler was shown into the drawing room by an elderly maid dressed in the conventional garb of women in service: the three white C’s – cap, collar, and cuffs – and a severe black frock. She was stooped and looked as if she should have been pensioned off years ago. The room was now the girls’ common room. The precious paintings had been removed, leaving patches on the walls where the wallpaper was brighter, and none of the furniture matched. Nonetheless, flooded with sunlight that poured through the tall windows, the room was cheery.

  The warden, Miss Stillwell, was waiting for him. A thin woman, she was plainly dressed in a pale green linen frock. Her iron-grey hair was braided and pinned in a coil at the back of her neck. She was seated in a straight-backed chair near the fireplace, her knees pressed tightly together, her feet side by side in their sensible brogues. She was of the class and generation of women who had been taught proper posture, along with proper behaviour. In spite of all this severity, she had a pleasant face with well-defined laughter lines at the corners of her eyes.

  “Inspector Tyler, please have a seat. Would you like some tea?”

  “No, thank you, Miss Stillwell. But I would appreciate a glass of water.”

  “Certainly. It has been dreadfully hot. Violet, would you bring the inspector some cold water?”

  The maid left on her errand, and Tyler took a chair facing. There was no way he could slouch in that hard chair even if he’d wanted to. He put his hat beside him on the floor, momentarily thrown back to school days and the lessons about good manners drummed into him by his teachers.

  The warden gave him a wan smile. “I am so glad to see you, Inspector. As you can imagine, when I heard the news about Elsie Bates, I was appalled.”

  “What do you know so far, Warden?”

  “Not much, to tell you the truth. Rose Watkins returned to the hostel about half past seven this morning. She had gone in search of Miss Bates, who was expected in the lorry about half six but who had not yet arrived. Rose was clearly dreadfully upset, but kept repeating she couldn’t say what it was about except that Elsie had been in a bad accident, and that a police officer would be here soon.”

  “Where is Miss Watkins now?”

  “She is resting in her room.”

 
“I will need to speak to her.”

  “Of course.”

  “Are the other girls in the house?”

  “No. I thought it better for all concerned if they went about their business until we had more information. They all have bicycles so I sent them off to work.” She glanced at him. “I hope that was the correct thing to do.”

  “I’m sure it was, Warden.”

  She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “Shortly after they had left, I received a telephone call from Sir Percy. He said that Elsie was dead and the police were treating it as a suspicious death. Is that the case, Inspector?”

  “Yes, I regret to say, it is.”

  The maid returned carrying a jug of water and an empty glass on a tray. She placed them on the table beside Miss Stillwell, who waited until she withdrew before she poured water for Tyler. Her hand shook and she splashed some of it as she handed the glass to him.

  “Please continue, Inspector.”

  He gulped back the water greedily. “Miss Bates was discovered lying at the side of the road. She had been shot in the head.”

  “Goodness gracious! … Do you know by whom?”

  “It was not by her own hand, I can assure you of that.”

  She nodded, understanding, as he himself had, what a vital girl Elsie Bates had been.

  “The Land Army lorry was some ways up the road and I believe she had been riding her bicycle. We found one close by. It’s maroon with a wicker basket on the front. Would that have been hers?”

  Miss Stillwell nodded. “The Land girls can have a regulation-issue bicycle if they wish, but some of them prefer to get better models of their own.” She took a deep breath. “Elsie was proud of hers.”

  “It fits that description, I presume?”

  She nodded again, lips held tightly together.

  “She was lodging in Whitchurch, I believe,” said Tyler.

  “That is correct. She was a forewoman and living out was considered a privilege of the position. Her job was to collect the girls here from the hostel and drive them to the different farms where their help had been requested.” Again the wan smile. “Elsie fretted against rules, and she was often late … I was the one who had to deal with the complaints from our farmers, and I’m afraid she saw me as a hard task maker. But, as you are no doubt aware, we are still taken on sufferance here by many of the local people, and I was anxious that we establish a good reputation.”

  Tyler finished off the glass of water.

  “You say Miss Bates was something of a rebel. Can you tell me more about her? Was she liked, for instance? Did she have any enemies that you know of?”

  Miss Stillwell considered the question for a moment, and he could see she was selecting what she thought was appropriate to say and what wasn’t.

  “Initially, when she came here, I would say she had a chip on her shoulder. A rather large chip. She is … er, was, from one of the poorer sections of London, and some of the young women are from, shall we say, more privileged families. Elsie resented them and was only too keen to take them down a peg or two. She had quite a sharp tongue on her.” She chuckled. “She could dredge up language that would embarrass a sailor. I had to have her on the carpet over that. She had not had an easy life. Occasionally she’d let slip something about her family. Quite dreadful really. Drunk and disorderly all the time. She settled down and lost some of her belligerence. She wanted to get on, to shake off those early influences.” She took a handkerchief from her pocket and rubbed at her eyes. “Excuse me, Inspector. I know that Elsie and I had our disagreements and that she didn’t much care for me, but I grew quite fond of her. I’m sorry she didn’t know that.”

  “So, no enemies that you are aware of? No one who might want to do her harm?”

  “Not here. She was very generous to the other girls, picking up extra chores if they were tired, for instance. As I say, the more they all worked together, the more they all learned respect and affection for each other.”

  “And outside of the hostel? Anybody who might hate Miss Bates enough to kill her?”

  Miss Stillwell sighed. “I am not a young woman, Inspector, but contrary to what the girls sometimes think, I was once. I understand the power of love and what it can stir in a person. Elsie Bates was unusually attractive. She liked to flirt. I’ve seen how she was when we’ve had our male guests over. To put it rather crudely, she’d have the young men panting around her like dogs with a bitch in heat.”

  This was the first hint of acerbity that had leaked into the warden’s speech. Tyler wondered if there was something personal in it.

  Rather stiffly, she got to her feet and brought the jug of water over to him.

  “It’s a little early to offer you anything stronger, I suppose.”

  Tyler would have liked to accept, but he was on duty and, despite her good manners, he knew Miss Stillwell would be disappointed in him.

  “Thank you, Warden. You have been most helpful. There is one more thing I’d like to ask you about. There was a gun beside Elsie’s body. A German Luger, issued in 1917. We will have to have it tested, but there’s little doubt it is the weapon that was used. Do you know if Miss Bates possessed such a gun?”

  She stared at him in bewilderment. “Why no. No. I have no knowledge of such.”

  “Would any of the other girls in the hostel have owned a gun?”

  “Not that I am aware of. It is against all regulations.”

  “Do you personally know anybody at all who might possess a German Luger? Anybody?”

  “Not at all.”

  “No names you heard bruited about? No gossip?”

  This time, she looked rather affronted. If she could have bristled in that straight chair, she would have.

  “I was taught never to listen to gossip, Inspector. I cannot help you in this regard.”

  He closed his notebook. “Could I have the name and address of Miss Bates’s next of kin? I will have to notify them. And I will need to talk to all of the women. How many are billeted here all together?”

  “Seven.”

  “Do you have any kind of roll call in the mornings?”

  “It’s not necessary. The girls know that breakfast is served between six and a quarter past six. It is their responsibility to get up. They look out for each other. The early risers wake up the sleepy heads.”

  “Did you see who was at breakfast this morning?”

  “Everyone except for Florence Hancocks, who is away on compassionate leave.”

  Tyler wrote that down. “What time will they return?”

  “It’s harvest time so they won’t be back before dusk.”

  “Shall we say I’ll come about nine o’clock, then?”

  She hesitated. “They don’t yet know what has happened. Fortunately, they are all working on a farm a little distance from town and it’s not on the telephone. You know how rumour runs rampant. I’d hate for them to hear some garbled version of what has happened. Will you be the one to tell them?”

  “Yes, I will. And, Miss Stillwell, please accept my sympathy. I know what I have had to tell you has been upsetting.”

  “Thank you. You have been most considerate.” She bit down on her lip. “One thinks that one will never be touched by evil if all of one’s life one has been surrounded by good people, but that is not necessarily the case, is it? Like so many others, I thought we had fought the war to end all wars, but look what has happened to us. And to Elsie Bates.” She reached over and pressed an electric button on the wall. “I suggest you talk to Rose in the library. It is much more private than here, and the girls use it as their sanctuary. I shall sit for a moment or two, then I will get the information that you requested.”

  Tyler put his notebook in his pocket and stood up. There was something about Miss Stillwell that aroused in him an impulse to kiss her hand. He could see the young woman she had once been. Young and attractive. He wondered who had broken her heart.

  The maid entered.

  “Violet, show the ins
pector to the library, and fetch Miss Watkins down. Take them in some tea and see if Cook has any biscuits or cake to spare, will you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Is everything all right, ma’am?”

  “Not right at all, Violet. But you will hear about it in good time.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Tyler followed the maid out, leaving Miss Stillwell to her reveries. He suspected she had given him a rather idyllic picture of life at the manor, but he didn’t think it was to deceive, so much as what she wanted to believe.

  6.

  VIOLET SHOWED TYLER INTO THE LIBRARY. SHE DIDN’T say a word, the good and faithful servant. Like the drawing room, the library was bright and airy with deep recessed windows that looked out onto the lawn. The walls were lined with glass-fronted bookcases and there were a couple of brown leather armchairs arranged near the fireplace. There was a sign on the wall, NO SMOKING! But the lingering smell of tobacco in the air made him suspect that some of the girls were sneaking a fag or two. He walked over to the window. A padded seat was built into the recess, a nice comfy spot to sit and daydream or read. There was a magazine on the seat. The Land Girl. He flipped through the pages. There were numerous articles for the girls, such things as how to take care of their gum boots. One letter caught his eye. The subject was pigs.

  Store and fat pigs will sometimes suddenly turn on one of their mates and if not stopped in time will eventually kill the unfortunate ones.

  He should send the piece to Winnie to use as a metaphor in one of his broadcasts.

  He glanced out of the window. The dowager, Lady Somerville, was walking slowly across the lush lawn. She was accompanied by another elderly maid who could have been the twin to the one who opened the door to him. The maid was holding a white parasol over the dowager’s head. The estate manager, Arthur Trimble, was trundling a wheelbarrow down the path. In spite of the warm day, he was well covered up in a corduroy jacket and breeches. He was wearing a brown cap, but when the dowager drew closer, he put down the wheelbarrow, removed his cap, and tucked it under his arm. Then he stepped forward, snipped off a rose, and handed it to the old lady.