Private Sorrow, A (25 page)

This was true because she was shaking with nerves. Maisie came in and said she had witnessed it but Alice mentioned the appointment and Maisie said it was the best thing she could do. ‘That lad is a bully and a wife-beater. I just hope he gets his comeuppance,’ she said.

But Victor didn’t come back that weekend and at 4:30 p.m. on Monday, Alice found herself in the office of the solicitor, Mr Preston. She was surprised to see he was a young looking man with a fresh complexion and sandy coloured hair. He looked like he enjoyed being outdoors. Alice had imagined him to be about eighty with a wrinkled face, gnarled hands and a slow way of walking. Instead, he bounded up and pulled a chair over to his desk for her. ‘Now, you want to discuss starting divorce proceedings, Mrs Charles?’

Alice said she was and she told him the entire story of her marriage to Victor, including the broken windows on Saturday night. He wrote everything down and said, ‘The infirmary will have a record of you being admitted with injuries sustained in his attack on you?’

Alice said, ‘Yes, it will. He has hit me lots of times but I didn’t go the doctor. I just tried to live with it.’

‘Well, it’s a pity you hadn’t looked for medical attention earlier, as the more evidence we have of his physical cruelty, the better it will be for your case. However, we seem to have enough to start the proceedings.’ He asked for Victor’s address and she gave it to him. ‘We’ll make another appointment for next week at the same time.’ He stood up and Alice thanked him.

Molly was waiting in the outer office. She couldn’t help thinking about the lottery of marriage. It could be heaven or hell depending on the person you chose to be your life’s companion. Alice looked a bit happier now she had set things in motion and, although she knew it would take some time for it to be finalised, at least she had taken the first step.

Charlie Johns was having no more luck with this case than Molly had. He had interviewed all the people on Molly’s list but their stories were exactly the same as they had told her. He had looked at the old case sheets in the police archives but although it had been properly investigated at the time, the problem was the girl had gone missing before anyone could question her about her whereabouts at the time of her father’s death.

The police had asked around the shops in Arbroath that day but no one could remember seeing either her or her father. It wasn’t very clear if she had even been there, as Mrs Pert had seen her on that evening in the close and walking to the house. Where had she gone after that? According to the testaments of the witnesses, she didn’t have any friends apart from one work colleague and one neighbour she sometimes walked home with. She had gone out with Peter Walsh for three weeks but they had broken up some weeks before her disappearance. So why had he almost been killed? Charlie had delved into his background and found nothing. He had borrowed money from a colleague but he had repaid it weeks ago and the man had said there had been no animosity. ‘He paid me back regularly every week until it was cleared,’ he said.

At first, he had suspected that Etta had gone with Robina to Ireland but checks on the convent said Miss Price hadn’t travelled anywhere on those dates. She had taken some leave the previous year but nothing in 1930. Charlie knew about the visit to Vera and Dave Barton in 1929, so it all checked out. Still, she was a strange woman, full of sermons about retribution and sin, and having to pay for human foibles.

Then there were the two attacks on Vera and he wondered if she had just fallen the first time and imagined the hand on her back the second. If people had been milling around the junction waiting to cross the road, then it could have been an innocent nudge. He thought that this would be another unsolved case and if it hadn’t been for the attacks, he would have shelved it without a qualm. But something was nagging him and he couldn’t figure out what it was.

He was almost back at the police station when he remembered – the elderly woman who befriended Vera after the bus incident. Molly hadn’t gone to see her and there had been no name or address except that she had gone in the direction of Victoria Road. He made a mental note to see Molly and ask her about this.

Back at the station, he sent for PC Williams. The young constable was having a tea break but he quickly went to the office with his notebook. ‘Did you get anything from the house-to-house enquiries?’ Charlie asked him.

‘No, not very much. Most people still had their curtains shut due to the rotten weather. One woman,’ he studied his notes, ‘a Mrs Roberts from Byron Street, said she saw a small black car driven by an elderly woman heading towards Rockwell School. It was going quite fast and that made her wonder, as elderly drivers usually drive like snails. However, she didn’t get the registration.’

Charlie’s antennae twitched. This was another sighting of an elderly woman. It could be coincidence but he had to try and trace the elusive good Samaritan that had escorted Vera Barton back to the agency and had also been a confidante of Vera as they sat in the restaurant.

He also had another niggle that was hanging around on the edges of his brain – he hadn’t yet visited Frances Flynn. ‘I want you to drive me to see a witness, Constable.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said the policeman as he hurried off to get the car. It took him some time to drive to Kirkton, as he hadn’t been in the new estate before, but once he found the street, it was easy to get a parking space. Mrs Flynn was worried when the two men knocked at her door. ‘Has something happened to Jimmy?’

‘No,’ said Charlie. ‘I just want to ask you some questions about Etta Barton.’ As they were shown into the pristine living room, Charlie asked her, ‘Are you worried about your son Jimmy, Mrs Flynn?’

‘No, not really, but this business with Peter has upset us all. It must be some maniac that’s going around tampering with people’s bikes, and it might be work vans next.’

‘We’re doing all we can to trace the culprit. That’s why we’re here. You told Miss McQueen that you were born in Ireland and left when you were twelve.’

Frances nodded. She suddenly felt the need of a cigarette, which was her normal crutch during stress.

‘Miss Robina Price was your teacher at your school?’

‘Yes, and a right rotten beggar she was then. I didn’t like her but thankfully I only had her for a year and then we left to come to Dundee with my father’s work.’

‘But you still see Miss Price from time to time? She comes and visits you?’

Frances looked unhappy. ‘Yes, she does, but I don’t particularly like her coming here. It was just that I met up with her in the street one day in the summer and she seemed to have changed. She sounded lonely, so I asked her to come and see me. We lived in Carnegie Street at the time and she said she had rented a flat in Elizabeth Street, which was only yards away from us. When we got this new house, I hoped she would stop but no, she comes every few weeks. But I have to say, she doesn’t stay long.’

‘You know she’s Vera Barton’s sister?’

‘I do now, but I didn’t know that when I first met her. Etta never mentioned she had an aunt living in Ireland. In fact, Etta hardly said anything about her life.’

‘Well, that’s all Mrs Flynn. Thank you for your time,’ said Charlie.

When they were in the car, he asked the constable, ‘What do you make of her?’

‘I think she’s telling the truth, sir, but she doesn’t like this woman coming to see her and the family, and I wonder why.’

Charlie laughed. ‘If you had someone who continually warned you about the sins of the flesh, well, that can hardly be a cheerful conversation.’ He told him to drive to the Hilltown, as he wanted to see Vera.

Once again, it was easy to get a parking space and as they went through the close, a few of the curtains twitched. Vera was looking a bit better. She had stopped her sleeping pills and was feeling more like her old self. Charlie began by asking if she could remember anything about the woman who had helped her. ‘Did she look familiar? Like someone you might have known at some time?’

Vera shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, but I hardly took any notice of her. I was still shaking after my accident and then I was agitated in the café because I was looking for the writer of the letter. The woman’s name was Bella, she was quite plump, her coat looked too tight for her and she wore a woollen hat and a scarf, but that’s all I remember. She didn’t take the hat or scarf off at the table but we were only there for a short time.’

‘You were looking for the writer of the letter that got lost?’

Vera’s face went red. ‘I know there’re some people who think I imagined the letter and that I fell in front of the bus by accident, but I didn’t. I felt someone push me quite hard and the letter was in my pocket. It must have fallen out.’

‘Please don’t get upset, but I do have to ask you these questions. I’ve spoken to your sister Robina.’

Vera interrupted him. ‘You managed to call her in Ireland?’

‘No, she’s living in Dundee and has been here for a year.’

‘Well, she’s never come to see me. I thought she was still at her convent school in Ireland.’

‘Did the woman mention where she stayed in Victoria Road? Try and think back to that day and see if anything made you suspicious of her.’

‘Suspicious? Why would I think she looked suspicious? She was just an elderly woman who helped me.’

Charlie said, ‘Yes, she more than likely was, but she was a witness to the accident and I’d like to talk to her. Maybe she saw someone acting strangely behind you.’

Vera looked doubtful. ‘I don’t think she did because she would have said. She paid for my cup of tea and then walked back with me to the agency as I had to see Molly. I mean Miss McQueen. She told me to be careful because someone had tried to kill me and that frightened me. Then she walked up the Wellgate steps and headed right, as if going further along Victoria Road. I’m sorry but I didn’t really look at her even when she put her hand on my arm and was so sympathetic. You’ll be thinking I’m odd that I didn’t really look at her, but I think I was still suffering from shock and then searching for the letter made me more anxious than ever. To tell you the truth, I was wishing she would go away and leave me alone. I wanted to search further along the road but she said it had obviously blown away.’

The two men stood up to go and Vera went to the door with them. Charlie put his hand on her arm and said, ‘Please be careful while we try and catch the person responsible for your attacks.’

Vera gasped. ‘That’s odd. I must have noticed it at the time but I didn’t take it in. When she put her hand on my arm, she was wearing nail polish. Still, maybe she likes keeping her nails nice.’

When they were walking back to the car, Charlie said, ‘We’ll have to find this woman because she’s becoming more dangerous by the minute. Miss McQueen seems to have stirred up a hornet’s nest. She’s spoken to all these witnesses and they’ve probably mentioned it to family and friends and it’s alarmed someone. Someone who doesn’t want the past brought up.’

Jimmy Flynn planned to go and see Peter that night. He was worried about the dent in the van and now the police were asking questions about Mrs Barton being run down by a vehicle on the same night Peter had borrowed it. Jimmy was furious that he had given him the keys but he had seemed desperate and he had felt sorry for him. He was an old friend of his mum and dad. They had been youngsters together away back in the early thirties and they had remained friends all these years. In fact, it had been Jimmy who had got him the job with the joinery when Peter’s last employer gave up his business.

However, he didn’t want to get a row from Mr Cooke. There was a strict rule about who drove the three vans and Peter wasn’t one of the drivers.

He was busy at work when Mr Cooke came to see him. For a brief moment, Jimmy thought he had found out about the van but no, he wanted to go and see Peter as well. ‘I thought of going up tonight, Jimmy, and I wondered if you would like to come with me?’

Actually, Jimmy would rather have gone alone but he couldn’t turn down his boss’s request. He smiled. ‘That’ll be great, Mr Cooke. I’ll meet you at the infirmary door.’

It was a cold blustery night when the two men met up but the hospital was warm and bright inside. The nurses swished past with their starched aprons and Mr Cooke said, ‘A lot of nice looking lasses work here, Jimmy. Don’t you wish they were looking after you?’

Jimmy laughed. ‘Yes, I do, Mr Cooke.’

‘Call me, Jack,’ he said. ‘About Peter’s accident, do you think someone has a grudge against him? I mean, cutting someone’s brakes is a nasty thing to do. He hasn’t been seeing another woman on the sly and the husband has got wind of it?’

Jimmy said no, Peter was loyal to Donna and had been for over twenty years. ‘I think this all started when that woman began looking into that missing girl case from years ago. Don’t ask me why Peter got hurt, because I don’t know, but I’m sure it has something to do with that case.’ Although he sounded confident, he hoped that Peter hadn’t got mixed up with something illegal.

By now they had reached the side room and Jack Cooke was shocked when he saw Peter lying with only his face showing. ‘My God, lad, I knew you were badly injured but it is still horrifying to see you like this.’

Peter tried to smile but failed. ‘I’m getting better, Mr Cooke, and hopefully I’ll get home soon.’

Jimmy couldn’t ask him about the van with his boss sitting across from him, so he was reconciled to coming back in on another day. ‘Jimmy tells me you’ve got the key for a new house in Kirkton, Peter.’

Peter looked annoyed. ‘We’ve been waiting for ages for it and now we’ll have to turn it down because we can’t afford the dearer rent on sickness benefit. The wife and girls are heartbroken. Still, we’ll maybe get another chance when I’m better.’

‘Well, that’s why I’m here. I want you to take it and I’ll make up your wages to what you were earning before.’

This bit of kindness overwhelmed Peter. ‘Oh, I can’t let you pay out every week, Mr Cooke. It might be weeks before I can get back to work.’

‘You let me worry about that, Peter. You can tell your wife and daughters to go ahead with the house and it’ll be ready for you when you come out of here.’