Chapter Ten
TEN
Abandoned to DI Scumble’s tender mercies, Eleanor decided sops to Cerberus was a good idea. “May I offer you a cup of tea or coffee, Inspector?”
“Thank you, I don’t mind if I do. Coffee would hit the spot nicely as long as you can talk at the same time.”
“It’s just instant, not anything complicated.”
“That’s fine. Tell me how the jewelry came into your possession.”
“I went out collecting donations on Tuesday afternoon,” said Eleanor, filling the electric kettle. From the kitchen, she could see Megan getting into the police car below. “Not in the village; out in the country, so I took the Incorrupt—my car. When I got back—”
“I don’t suppose you’ve remembered what time that was?” he asked without hope.
“The sun was setting, but that’s as close as I can get. Didn’t I tell you that already?”
“It’ll have to do. Go on.”
“I parked just outside the shop, partly on the pavement, I’m afraid, but I was unloading, so it’s allowed, isn’t it?”
“I’m not in the traffic division,” he said dryly.
“What a pity. I really ought to find out if it’s legal.” Seeing his face begin to purple, she hastened to continue. “Teazle—my dog—jumped down. Milk, no sugar, isn’t it?”
“Black, please. Is the dog germane to your story?”
“Yes, in a way.” The kettle clicked off and Eleanor poured boiling water into the two cups, stirring to make sure the powder dissolved.
“You see, she was in the back seat, sitting on top of the bundle of donated clothes under which I found the jewelry. They were in a polythene bag so she couldn’t have damaged them. ”
“Now let’s get this straight: You parked the car, possibly illegally, and the dog jumped down. Did she go out of the window?”
“She’d never do that. Here you are. Won’t you have a seat?” Anything to stop him towering over her.
“Thanks.” He took the mug, sipped—his mouth must be lined with asbestos—and sat down. “You opened the car door,” he said with exaggerated patience. “Which side? Which way were you facing?”
“The wrong way,” Eleanor confessed. “Is that illegal too? People seem to do it all the time.”
“I am not—”
“—concerned with traffic control. I know. Sorry. The driver’s-side door.
I got out and told Teazle to come. Oh, I put the seat-back down.
. . . No, that was afterwards. Teazle jumped from the back onto the driver’s seat and down, and I let her into the passage.
She’s terribly good. She just goes upstairs out of the way while—”
“You unlocked the door into the passage?”
Eleanor racked her brains. “I’m still not sure,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t want to mislead you.”
“Glad to hear it,” he muttered.
“I turned back to the car. That’s when I put the seat-back down and took out the bag of clothes.”
“Hold on. Was your passenger-side window open?”
“Yes, it was a beautiful afternoon.”
“Was your back turned to the car for long enough for someone to insert the jewelry under the clothes?”
“I don’t know. I suppose so, if they were quick. But there were a few people about. The street wasn’t deserted. Someone would surely have noticed.”
“Hmm. All right, go on.”
“Where was I? Oh yes, I took the clothes and the jewelry back to the stockroom, then, when I saw how valuable it looked, I brought the jewelry up here and put it in the safe. By the time I went down again, Donna and the little Chins were—”
“The what?”
“What on earth do you mean, the ‘what?’ ”
“Little chins . . . Oh, the kids!”
“Ivy and Lionel, from the Chinese. Such dear children. They often help me, as does Donna. You always hear about teenagers being difficult, and one must admit she—Well, never mind. Then Nick came to see if there was anything heavy to carry. Nicholas Gresham, from next door.”
“The artist whose shin met the table, who carried the boxes of books in.”
“That’s right.”
“Did you tell him, or anyone else, about the jewelry?”
“Good gracious no!” She paused before continuing guiltily, “Not then. I was afraid it might turn out to be a mistake, so embarrassing to everyone to have it known and then to have to give it back . . . I did tell Jocelyn—Mrs Stearns. She had to know because it was shop business, but I didn’t mention it even to her until yesterday afternoon.
Earlier, we had other things on our minds. ”
“Quite. So you did tell Mr Gresham at some point?”
“At tea-time yesterday. He said we must tell you immediately.”
“And quite right he was. So why have I only just been informed?”
“Because of the drawing of the boy’s injury, and Nick’s and Jocelyn’s bruises. We were all thinking about the table, and the jewelry simply got lost in the shuffle. “
Scumble heaved a heavy sigh. “I’ll accept that, as a working hypothesis.”
“Later, I was about to tell you when you decided to call it a day.”
He had the grace to look discomfited, for a fraction of a second. “What happened after all your booty was stowed in the stockroom?”
“I’ve already told you about that. Nick invited me out to supper as he’d sold a painting, and then he took the car down to my garage. It’s just a shed, down in the parking lot by the stream.”
“Locked?”
“Padlocked. Usually, when the car is there. But the jewels weren’t put in the car in the shed.
Earlier, I mean, before I went out in it.
I couldn’t possibly have helped noticing when I took it out, or at least when Teazle got into the back.
Or when I put in the first donation I picked up.
Boxes from Mrs Prendergast. The flat kind, you know, dress boxes. I would have seen—”
“I suppose so. We’ll have to check the car for fingerprints. The key is on the ring we’ve got?”
“Yes, the one that’s obviously a padlock key.”
“Right, let’s get back to this collecting trip of yours. Where exactly did you go?”
Eleanor told him whom she had visited that day and what they had given her. She never had any difficulty remembering people, nor the proceeds of their kindness and generosity. The order in which she had called on them was another matter. “Is it important?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Can give me their addresses?”
“They’re all in my address book, in my desk.
” She went over to the flap-top desk in the corner, carefully placed where she could look out over the inlet while she wrote letters.
“Here. Though the addresses may not help you very much. Most of them are tucked away in odd nooks in the landscape. I can try to give you directions, but you know how it is—after a while one goes by landmarks more than by anything so precise as ‘turn left at the next crossroads’ and ‘bear right where the lane forks.’ ”
“We’ll find them.”
“You aren’t going to . . . to accuse them of anything, are you?” Eleanor was thinking how the arrival of the police would upset Miss Willis and Miss Annabel.
“Donating to a charity is not a crime, Mrs Trewynn. We have to find out whether any of these people put the jewelry in your car, whether accidentally or deliberately.”
“Yes, of course. Could you possibly send Meg—Detective Sergeant Pencarrow—to question the Willises? They’re elderly, you see, and they won’t get so flustered if it’s not a uniformed policeman.”
“I can’t promise. I may not be able to spare her.”
Eleanor decided to regard this as a victory of sorts. At least he had acknowledged that Megan was more use to him than a common-or-garden bobby. Megan, who clearly felt unappreciated, would be pleased to hear of the inspector’s concession.
Megan returned to the flat just then. Eleanor managed to restrain herself from passing on the good news at once.
“Mr Hobbes is on his way, sir.”
Scumble nodded. “You grew up around here, didn’t you?”
“At the other end of the county, actually, sir.”
He dismissed this with a wave. “Do you know where these places are?” He handed over the list of names and addresses.
Megan read it with dismay. “Not really, sir. Even with a map, the lanes are pretty confusing in places, but I expect I can find them.”
“Good. Take Dawson and ask ‘em all what they donated to LonStar the day before yesterday. Ask particularly about anything valuable, but don’t specify jewelry. You might as well see if anyone can put a time to Mrs Trewynn’s call,” he added pessimistically, “though I can’t see what good it’ll do us if they can.
You made a note of everyone in Port Mabyn you’ve shown that photo to? ”
“Of course, sir.”
“Give your notes to Pardoe. He can finish that up. And take a copy of the picture to show all these people you’re going to run to earth in their rural retreats.”
“Uh, some of these places probably don’t get wireless reception, sir. If they haven’t heard about the murder, should I tell them why I’m making enquiries?”
“No! Least said, soonest mended.” He turned a ferocious scowl on Eleanor. “Which doesn’t apply to witnesses.”
“ ‘I tell thee everything I can,’ ” said Eleanor. “ ‘There’s little to relate.’ ”
Scumble gave her a look of utter incomprehension. Oh dear, she thought, he wasn’t brought up on Lewis Carroll. Now he would think her battier than ever. But the image the quotation brought to her mind—an aged, aged man a-sitting on a gate—reminded her of something she hadn’t related.
“It wasn’t a gate,” she said, as Megan, who surely was acquainted with the White Knight, made her escape. “It was a stile. I went for a walk on the cliffs.”
“That afternoon,” the inspector said flatly. “After picking up the goods?”
“Yes. It was a beautiful day. I parked in a lay-by, well off the road.”
“I’m delighted to hear it. Did you by any chance lock the car?”
“Well, no. As a matter of fact, I left the keys in the lock, so, you see, I did mean to do it. But I heard a car coming, so I checked to make sure Teazle was well out of the way.”
“Did you recognise the car?” he rapped out. “What make, year, colour? I suppose there’s no hope of your having noted the licence plate.”
“It was a panda car, actually. Or don’t you like people calling them that? A police car. Bob Leacock’s police car.”
“PC Leacock’s police car. The local officer.”
“That’s right. Such a nice young man. He stopped to make sure I hadn’t broken down and we passed the time of day.
Then he drove on and I climbed up onto the stile.
Teazle went underneath. It was a wooden one, not one of those with stone steps built into a wall.
That kind I have to lift her over, which is all very well if you have a small dog but how people manage . . . Sorry! Where was I?”
“On top of the stile, I believe. The wooden stile.”
Sarcasm again. Eleanor was quite indignant.
After all, she had apologised for rambling.
She was almost tempted to tell him she couldn’t remember what had happened next.
He’d certainly believe her. But not only would that be childish, the more she thought about it, the more obvious it seemed that the loot must have been put into the Incorruptible while she was walking across the field.
“Another car came by. It’s no good asking me the make or year or licence plate, but it was grey.
The sun was reflected off the windshield and I couldn’t see who was inside, but I waved, just in case it was someone I knew.
It drove past. After I had climbed down from the stile and started across the field, I heard the engine cut off.
I remember hoping they weren’t going to walk the same way and spoil the peace and quiet.
A few moments later, I heard a car door slam. Then they drove away.”
“In which direction?” Scumble demanded.
“The opposite way to Bob. They must have passed each other as he drove down the hill.”
“If he doesn’t know the make, model, and year,” snarled the inspector, “I’ll have him kicked off the force.”