Best-ball
âThat you, Sloan?' barked Superintendent Leeyes down the phone. âWhere on earth have you been?'
âBerebury, at Rose Cottage â¦'
âLook here, we've found Moffat's club.'
âWe've found Bobby Curd â¦' began Sloan.
âIn Brian Southon's bag in the locker room here.'
âDead,' said Sloan.
âWhat?' exploded the Superintendent.
âVery dead,' said Sloan firmly.
There was an uncharacteristic silence at the other end of the telephone line. It equated with the sound of cogitation on the Superintendent's part.
âI don't think, Sloan,' said Leeyes eventually, âthat we're going to find who killed Matthew Steele until we know exactly why he was murdered. Or Bobby Curd.'
âBobby Curd, though, must have seen something,' said Sloan. âStands out a mile.'
âOr seen someone,' said Leeyes.
âProbably the night Steele was buried. But as to why Steele was killed, sir, I'm afraid we're no further forward.'
âThough Luke Trumper wasn't happy about the fellow pursuing his daughter.'
âFathers seldom are â rich fathers, anyway,' said Sloan. He didn't have a daughter.
âGirls can be very wilful,' said Leeyes, who did have a daughter.
âI'm sure, sir.' It was widely supposed at the Police Station that Superintendent Leeyes was henpecked: mostly on the grounds that it explained his behaviour at work. Perhaps he was chicken-pecked as well. âWe're going to interview Luke Trumper as soon as possible.' He coughed. âThey do say, sir,
that he's been up here a lot lately. Much more than usual for him, anyway.'
âThought Steele was too young for a son-in-law, I expect,' said Leeyes sagely. âNo prospects, either â¦'
That wasn't what Sergeant Perkins had reported to Sloan: the prospects might have been altogether too rosy for Trumper
père's
liking.
âSome fathers, of course,' pronounced Leeyes weightily, âwill go to any lengths to stop their daughters getting mixed up with unsuitable young men.'
âNot murder, surely?' murmured Sloan, although he didn't envy the suitors, if any, of the Superintendent's daughter.
âThere was that old fellow who saw his daughter drown when he wouldn't let her marry her lover,' said Leeyes.
âI don't remember â¦'
âYou know, Sloan. Everyone knows about him.'
âSir?'
âSome Scotsman or other â I forget his name now.'
âReally, sir?'
âA Lord, if I remember rightly.'
âI can't say that I â¦'
âYou remember, Sloan. The girl who didn't mind the weather but who couldn't cope with an angry father. So she and her lover set off across the loch and were drowned before his eyes.'
âLoch Ullin's daughter,' faltered Sloan. He'd forgotten the winter that the Superintendent had attended classes on “Poetry and Prose”. Something his superior had heard there must have stuck.
âThat's the man. The other fellow was Lord of Ulva's Isle or something. Much good it did him, either.'
âIt would seem, though,' said Sloan, rising to the occasion, âthat Matt Steele was no young Lochinvar. But he was sharp all the same. Very sharp from all accounts.' He hastened on. âAll
we've been able to do so far, sir, is to list the golfers the deceased caddied for most recently.'
âA golfer may consider a caddy inefficient,' declared Leeyes pontifically, âor even downright unhelpful, but not to the point of killing him out of hand.'
âNot exactly out of hand, sir,' murmured Sloan. âThese have all the hallmarks of carefully orchestrated killings.' He hesitated and then added âBy someone who knew the course well enough to recreate the pattern in the sand that had been there before and also matched that in the other bunkers.' That had been one examination, at least, that Crosby had carried out properly. âAnd it wasn't the greenkeeper who did it because he was off sick.'
Somewhere at the back of his mind was the fact that he'd heard someone else at the Club had been ill, too, but the memory was elusive and he couldn't for the moment remember who it had been.
âGood thinking,' said Leeyes. âSo tell me, who was it that Steele caddied for last.'
âPeter Gilchrist.' Sloan had the answer to that ready. âThat was when Luke Trumper and Nigel Halesworth all played together in the semi-final of the Kemberland Cup.'
âThat's a Stableford Competition,' said Leeyes. âWe all went out in threesomes for that.'
âTrumper won,' said Sloan, âwith thirty-three points.'
âDoesn't sound as if he had too much on his mind then,' said Leeyes thoughtfully. âNot enough to take it off the game, anyway.'
The Superintendent might have considered that this constituted evidence. Sloan didn't and so went on âThe deceased caddied for Gilchrist, too, when he played Brian Southon in the second round of the Pletchford Plate. Gilchrist lost then, too.'
âPerhaps it was Gilchrist who had something on his mind â
oh, yes. Of course he has,' said Leeyes. âHis business. Ah, well, perhaps he'll get the contract for the work at the Club. One of them's going to. And soon. They've only got until the end of the month to get their tenders in.'
âPeter Gilchrist lost when Steele caddied for Doug Garwood, too,' said Sloan, turning over a page in his notebook. âThat was quite a while ago now.'
âDoug may be getting on but his short game's still pretty good,' opined Leeyes, golfer. âI suppose that's what saved him.'
âYes, sir.' Sloan flipped over another page of his notebook. âAnd Steele caddied for Nigel Halesworth when he played Luke Trumper in the Matheson Trophy.'
âTrumper didn't win,' said Leeyes. âI know because I was playing after him and saw it up on the board.'
âThe curious thing about the Matheson Trophy,' said Detective Inspector Sloan, policeman, not golfer, âis that apparently Matthew Steele bet quite a lot of money on Doug Garwood beating Peter Gilchrist in his match.'
âYou mean even though Steele wasn't caddying for either of them?' enquired Superintendent Leeyes alertly.
âYes, sir.' He cleared his throat. âAnd Garwood did win and so, I suppose, in a way did Matthew Steele. His bet, anyway.' Not, he added silently to himself, that being murdered constituted winning in anyone's book.
âGilchrist should have won,' declared Leeyes. âHe's the better player, by a long chalk although his handicap would have come into it.'
Sloan wasn't sure about golf handicaps. Down at the Police Station their handicaps comprised such things as villains and vandals, budgets and bureaucracy, traffic and traffickers â¦
âThat would have helped Doug Garwood, would it, sir? Gilchrist's handicap.'
He heard the Superintendent blow out his cheeks in an
audible puff. âA handicap is the imposition of special disadvantages to make a better contest â¦'
That wasn't how they saw their handicaps down at the Police Station but Sloan pressed on. âSo Doug Garwood would have had to concede something to Peter Gilchrist instead.'
âNo, the other way round,' said Leeyes. âGilchrist has a lower handicap than old Doug. In his day, Doug was very good but not now he's getting on. Gilchrist would have had to give him quite a few strokes.'
âBut he still lost to Garwood?'
âThat,' said Leeyes, âis what is interesting.'
âAnd so is how Steele knew that he would,' murmured Sloan.
âThere's no question, I'm afraid,' said Leeyes, sounding unusually subdued, âthat our villain, whoever he is, will have been using local knowledge all the time.'
âIt looks as if the victims were as well,' said Sloan. âBoth of them.'
âAnd that who ever did it was a member,' said Leeyes gloomily. âNot good for the Club, you know, Sloan. Something like this.'
âThat brings me, sir, to another thing â¦'
âWhat's that?'
âThe lab people have started taking swabs for DNA identification to compare with the traces they've found on the greenkeeper's truck â¦and they say they'll get over to Bobby Curd's place, too, as soon as they can.'
âQuite right, Sloan.'
âFrom everyone at the Club, sir.'
âNaturally. We can't afford to leave anyone out at this stage. Especially Luke Trumper.'
âExactly, sir,' said Sloan warmly. âI knew you'd agree.'
âWell?'
âThis is a bit difficult.'
âWhy?'
Basely Sloan transferred the blame.
âThe men in white suits want to include you, sir.'
âMe?' said Leeyes on a rising note.
âEveryone,' said Sloan. He took a deep breath. âThey've asked me to say, sir, that everyone includes you.'
Superintendent's voice hit crescendo. âGood God, Sloan, I'm not everyone.'
âNo, sir. Certainly not, sir. But, seeing you're up for the Committee they thought you'd want to set a good example.'
Â
Helen Ewell had found her voice again. It had not reverted to normal, though, but remained high-pitched and child-like. She had found a new audience now, too, having made her way to the professional's shop. Still half in tears, she positively fell upon the man.
âOh, Jock, it was horrible,' she cried. âYou can't imagine how horrible.'
âNo,' agreed Selkirk, disentangling himself from her clasp with difficulty. âI don't suppose I can.'
âThey say it's Matt Steele, one of the caddies.' She was still clinging to him. âThat poor, poor boy. Who would do a thing like that?'
âOnly a madman,' said Jock Selkirk, firmly detaching Helen's arm from his.
âAnd that poor girl!'
âWhat girl?' asked Selkirk cautiously.
âHilary Trumper, of course. Luke's daughter.'
âAh, I guessed she was sweet on him,' said Selkirk, slipping adroitly behind his counter out of Helen Ewell's reach.
âThey say she was very attached indeed to Matt Steele.'
âA mistake,' said Selkirk dourly. âNot her sort at all.'
Helen Ewell stood back at last and regarded the professional
as if seeing him as a human being for the first time. âWhat makes you say that?' she asked, her curiosity aroused.
âI know a young man on the make when I see one.'
âOh, Jock, how can you say that about someone who's been murdered?'
âIt can't do him any harm,' said the professional reasonably. âAnd it's true.'
He had reckoned without Helen Ewell's womanly feelings. âDon't you understand?' she said slowly. âSomeone's killed him here on your course.'
âI know that,' said Jock Selkirk. There was no sign now of the celebrated ladies' man nor even of the accomplished exponent of the game. Just of a very worried golf professional. âI've had the police here today, too.'
âHere?' She looked bewildered. âWhatever for?'
âI don't know what they came for the first time â¦' he began carefully.
âThey've been twice, Jock? I don't understand.'
âBut when they came back again they turned the place upside down.'
âBut why?'
âTo begin with I didn't know what they were looking for,' he said, tight-lipped. âBut what they found were a pair of shoes.'
âShoes?' she echoed.
âDon't you understand, woman?' he said harshly. âThey found Matthew Steele's shoes here in my shop.
âIn here?' She looked round the shop, totally baffled.
âNo, no, not in here.' He jerked a finger over his shoulder. âOut in my workshop at the back. In a pile of shoes waiting to have new studs fitted.'
âBut â¦'
Jock Selkirk leaned back on his heels, ignoring her patent distress. âNow, woman, tell me what you make of that â¦'
Par
Detective Inspector Sloan carefully replaced the telephone receiver in the Secretary's office and said âSit down, Crosby. We need to think outside the box.'
The Constable looked at each chair in turn and chose one with the least papers on it. âThese'll have to go down on the dog shelf,' he said, stacking them carefully on the floor before taking a seat. âMe, I thought golf was a game not a paperchase.'
âKeeping track of winners and losers takes time,' said Sloan prosaically. Theoretically, down at the Police Station they only had to keep track of the losers â or, rather, those who didn't believe in law and order. The trouble was that they weren't always the losers. Putting this engaging thought to the back of his mind for further consideration at some mythical moment when he was less busy, he pulled out his notebook. âLet's see, where are we now?'
âGetting nowhere fast,' said Crosby dispiritedly. âAll we know for sure is who the two victims are.'
âHardly a great leap forward, Crosby, I agree, but something to be going on with.'
Crosby jerked his shoulder in the direction of the course. âAnd that the deceased's girlfriend has started to haunt the place.'
âTrue. Anything else?' Socrates had come to grief for asking questions but Sloan didn't think he was at any risk here and now. Not with Detective Constable Crosby answering them.
âThat whoever buried Steele was a golfer?'
âKnew the course and the game,' said Sloan more precisely.
There was a pause while Crosby considered the ceiling.
âFurthermore, Crosby,' Sloan tapped his notebook with his pencil, âwe must presume he was seen by old Bobby Curd the night he buried the body.'
âSure thing, sir.'
âAnd knew it. Or, more sinisterly, came to know it. So he had to be killed, too.'
âOne thing leading to another, you might say,' agreed Crosby.
There was an expression for this that they used in hospitals that had stuck in Sloan's mind. He quoted it aloud without thinking. âA cascade of intervention.'
âPardon, sir?'
âBut as to why Steele was killed, Crosby, we're no further forward.'
âSomeone must have a lot at stake, that's for sure, sir.'
âAll right, then. Let's think about what this could be. There's the Club itself since this seems to be a golf club murder.' He looked down at his notebook. âThere's this argument about the new development for starters.'
âThat's only business,' objected Crosby, leaving aside generations of slave-traders, marauding pirates and grinders down of the faces of the poor who had used much the same argument.
âBusiness is money,' said Sloan implacably. When it wasn't, the firm was already halfway to Carey Street.
âI've been on to the Planning people,' said Crosby with apparent irrelevance. âThey confirm that permission has been given for outline and detailed plans for all the proposed developments. No problem there.'
âThat must be a first,' said Sloan sourly. âAnything else come in?'
âForensic say they've found lots of DNA in the greenkeeper's truck. His â that's Joe Briggs â Brian Southon's and Peter Gilchrist's â oh, and Dr Dabbe's.'
Sloan flipped back some pages in his notebook. âSouthon and Gilchrist are two of the men who cut the greens when Briggs couldn't, aren't they?'
âYes, sir. And their fingerprints are all over the special mowers they keep for the greens, too.'
âWhich is only what you'd expect,' sighed Sloan. âYou do realise, Crosby, don't you that one day soon the detective branch is going be taken over by something called deoxyribonucleic acid?'
âSir?'
âA properly taken DNA swab can't be argued with in court.'
âDon't worry, sir,' said Crosby kindly. âThe lawyers will find a way.'
Detective Inspector Sloan acknowledged this with a quick grimace. âAll the same somewhere in the next world a Frenchman called Dr Edmond Locard must be sitting on a cloud and rubbing his hands. He was right all along.'
âWhat about?'
âThe exchange principle, Crosby. That two matters, be they animal, vegetable or mineral, cannot meet without leaving something of themselves on each other.'
âThat reminds me, sir. Mrs Sloan rang to ask if you had any idea when you would be home.'
âNone,' said Sloan rather shortly. âI'll ring her myself when I have a moment. Now, what do Forensic have to say about the golf club found in Brian Southon's bag?'
âUsed with a glove and attempts made to clean it but plenty of Moffat's and some of Southon's prints on it.'
âWhich is only what you would expect. And the deceased's shoes?'
âPulled off by someone wearing gloves,' said Crosby flatly.
âWhich is also only what you would expect,' sighed Sloan. âTell me something I wouldn't.'
âNo sign of Luke Trumper's DNA or fingerprints in the greenkeeper's truck or on Moffat's club,' said the Detective Constable. âFunny, that, isn't it?'
Â
âStymied, Sloan, that's what we are,' said Superintendent Leeyes.
âVery probably, sir.'
âNothing adds up,' he complained peevishly. âIt won't do, you know.'
Detective Inspector Sloan could only agree. He could see that the game of golf meant different things to different people - exercise, a day in the country, competitive play, a sales pitch, a pathway to promotion, sociability, a good walk spoilt â¦but in the case of the Superintendent, it was a milieu happily far removed from his normal workaday criminal scene and thus important.
âI don't like it, Sloan,' said Leeyes. âI come up here for pleasure, not for more work. Besides,' he added ingenuously, âthe members of the Club expect an early arrest.'
âUnless we have the figures stacked up in the wrong columns,' said Sloan, âthe only thing that makes sense so far is the murder of Bobby Curd.' He would have to get back to that crime scene as soon as he could.
âFine lot of help that is,' declared Leeyes richly.
âAnd all we have to go on otherwise is a note of all the players who Steele caddied for most recently,' said Sloan. There was something else nagging at the back of his mind but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was. Something that he must look into.
âAnd his friendship with the Trumper girl,' Leeyes reminded him.
âThat, too,' conceded Sloan. âThere are plenty of DNA traces and fingerprint evidence about but none from anyone where we shouldn't expect them.'
Leeyes grunted.
âSomeone's been very careful,' said Sloan. That much was true.
âEverything should be grist to a detective's mill,' pronounced Leeyes at his most didactic. âEven that.'
Sloan resisted the temptation to say that it was when the
grist got to the mill that the difficulties of sorting out the wheat from the chaff showed up: especially when that grist included the facts that a suspect murder weapon had been recovered from a golf bag and a pair of the victim's shoes found in the one place where they were least likely to be noticed.
âSo our murderer has got brains as well as motive, that's all,' said Leeyes racingly. âWe've got brains, too, Sloan. Remember that.' Leeyes sniffed. âExcept for Crosby. I must say he's as much use as chocolate teapot.'
âThere's not even a pattern to the matches Steele caddied for,' said Sloan hastily. âThe last one seems to have been for something called the Kemberland Cup.'
âThat's the three-ball Stableford I told you about,' responded Leeyes promptly. âPlayed for points, not a knockout competition. The men aren't playing against each other so they can make up their own threes just as they like.'
Detective Inspector Sloan looked down at a notebook whose pages were getting increasingly crumpled. âLike I said, sir, Gilchrist, Trumper and Halesworth all went out together. Steele caddied for Gilchrist and Beddoes for Trumper. Halesworth carried his own clubs.'
âToo mean,' said Leeyes, adding ungraciously, âalthough I suppose he is a bit younger.'
âWhat I would like to know,' said Sloan and not for the first time, âis how exactly did the deceased know that Doug Garwood would beat Peter Gilchrist in the Matheson Trophy and be sure enough to bet on it.'
âI can't think,' said Leeyes irritably. âBut you'd better find out.'
Â
Luke Trumper was in the bar. He was sitting cradling his drink at one of the tables in front of the window. Gerald Moffat and Brian Southon were with him, arguing about how Moffat's club could have been found in Southon's bag.
âI'm pretty sure it wasn't there when I was in the bunker on
Sunday morning, Gerald,' insisted Southon, frowning. âI think I'd have noticed the thing but the trouble is I can't swear to it.'
âWas the body in the bunker then?' asked Moffat acidly. âThat's more important than whether my club was in your bag.'
âI don't know that either,' said Southon worriedly. He pushed a hand through a head of hair only just beginning to show signs of grey. âDo I?'
Like Trumper, older and more experienced, said âNot your problem, that, Brian. Never does to take on something that's not your problem.'
âI suppose not,' said Southon, still looking worried, âbut all the same I don't like to think that last Sunday morning I might have been taking a stance on a dead body.'
âAll bodies are dead,' said Gerald Moffat, grammarian, and even more a pedant than Edmund Pemberton.
âYou know what I mean,' said Southon, flushing all the same.
Luke Trumper took a sip of his drink. âI don't know about you two but I've just been gone over by those two detective fellows.' He pursed his lips. âI didn't like the look in the eye of the older one. Behaved as if he didn't believe a word I said and the other behaved as if he wasn't even listening. Wanted to know when I'd last seen Matt Steele.'
âIs it true then that it's him who's dead?' asked Southon.
âThey don't answer your questions,' said Luke Trumper wearily. âThey just ask theirs.'
âSuch as?' said Southon.
âWhen Steele'd last caddied for me. I said he hadn't. Wouldn't have had him anyway even if he'd offered.' He waved an arm. âDidn't want him talking to me about Hilary out there when I couldn't get away from him.'
âI didn't think fathers got asked for their daughter's hand in marriage any more,' murmured Moffat under his breath, âlet
alone on the golf course.'
âSo then they asked when I'd last gone out with anyone else who had him as a caddy,' said Trumper, without giving any sign that he'd heard Moffat.
âWhich was?' asked Southon.
âMust have been the Sunday â not last Sunday. The one before. I played Peter Gilchrist in the Kemberland Cup.'
âDid you beat him?' enquired Southon.
Trumper looked up, pleased. âMatter of fact, I did. The Steele boy caddied for Peter. Seemed all right, then.'
âHe isn't all right now,' said Moffat. He jerked his shoulder in the direction of the bar. âMolly's heard it's him so it's pretty definite.'
Once started on the Kemberland Cup Luke Trumper needed to go on. âI had old Beddoes. Just as well we had a clear run. He'd never have heard anyone shout “fore”.' He smiled reminiscently. âIt was a good match, though, in more ways than one.
Brian Southon said to him âYour daughter's going to be upset. I heard he was really sweet on her.'
Luke Trumper plunged his face into his glass but was heard to say âShouldn't speak ill of the dead, I know, but more fool her.'
âGirls will be girls,' said Gerald Moffat, bachelor and confirmed misogynist.
âI don't know if you know it, Luke,' said Brian Southon, âbut they say she's up here today.'
âHilary?' Trumper started. âHere? Why?'
âI don't know why, but I saw her going into the caddies' shed,' said Brian Southon, also taking refuge in his glass.
âThat was after she'd left the pro's shop.'
Luke Trumper immediately pushed his glass away and quickly struggled to his feet. âI must go and find her. Now.'