The Wild Wood Enquiry (14 page)

WHEN IVY AWOKE, for a couple of seconds she forgot that she had had a nighttime companion in her room. Then the fog of deep sleep cleared away and she sat up with a jerk, looking across at the armchair where she had tucked up Roy, asleep in his alcoholic stupor. She blinked when she saw the chair was empty.

“So the bird has flown!” she said aloud, and then startled at the sound of her voice sounding exactly like her mother’s, she frowned and got slowly out of the bed. Sunlight already filled her room, and for several minutes she stared out of the window, seeing nothing of the lovely morning but lost in memories of her poor father, turned out of the house to sleep in the shed and followed out there by a shrill diatribe from her shrieking mother.

“Am I turning into my mother?” she muttered. This thought was not a comfortable one. She had never noticed it before, but then she had only once before had a man in
her life. By the time she had washed and dressed ready for breakfast, she had considered the whole matter seriously and decided to surprise Roy with tolerant understanding. He should see that she was quite capable of handling any such situation with broad-mindedness and humour. She had even practised her opening words. “And how’s my beloved this morning?” This she would say with a warm, amused smile.

Roy was already at the breakfast table, nursing a sore head and dreading the appearance of Ivy. He had been woken in the middle of the night by a care assistant who had put her hand over his mouth to prevent him protesting as she led him silently out of Ivy’s room and back to his own. He had sobered up with the hideous memory of himself lurching in and disturbing Ivy with eulogies on the subject of Miriam’s primrose wine. Oh, dear God, how could he face his beloved this morning?

“Ah, so there you are!” Ivy sat down at the table, cleared her throat and said sharply that if anyone asked her, she would say that the demon drink was responsible for many things but that only a fool would be witless enough to allow a silly woman to ply him with that primrose stuff!

This was more or less what Roy was expecting, and he was never to know what good intentions Ivy had nurtured but not fulfilled. He apologised profusely, said that she was exactly right, that he
was
a fool, and was now paying for it with the mother and father of a headache.

“The sins of the father!” said Ivy, and although Roy was not quite sure of the aptness of this quotation, he once more apologised and said that she should never again see him in that parlous state. Would she give him another chance?

Ivy subsided sadly, and told herself that although her mother no longer spoke to her in her head, the old ghost was
still in control. She reached out and took Roy’s trembling hand. “You shall have as many chances as you like,” she said. “For better, for worse, that’s how I intend our marriage shall be.” So buzz off, Mother, she added in her head.

When equilibrium was restored, Roy gave her a sober account of what had happened with his Miriam Blake interview. “She was very cheerful, Ivy, and thoroughly enjoying the whole prospect of being a detective. I questioned her closely about the hand she saw and the earring, which she claims she had picked up but then lost, and was, in any case, her own. I have to say, my dear, that your assessment of Miriam’s character is probably very near the truth. Her story varies according to her mood, it seemed to me. The hand, once that of a small and defenceless woman, now appears to have been possibly that of a small man and has adopted a faded whitish, yellowish colour.”

“There you are, then,” said Ivy. “The woman is ridiculous. Time to be firm with her. We should say that it is Enquire Within policy to carry out investigations without the client present. A report will be made to her as and when we have fresh information.”

“I got the impression that Gus was feeling like barring his doors against her, poor man. I suppose we could abandon the case?”

“Certainly not,” said Ivy. “There has been a crime. I am convinced of that. But what it is and who’s involved is still a mystery. What we need is some hard evidence.”

“Such as what, dearest?” said Roy admiringly.

“A body,” said Ivy flatly. “More toast?”

BY MIDDAY, THUNDERCLOUDS were gathering, and Deirdre rushed out to bring garden chairs into the
conservatory. As the first drops of rain began to fall, she heard her phone ringing and ran through to answer it.

“Hello? Oh, Gus, how are you doing? There’s going to be a storm, I’m afraid. What did you say? Oh, that was a hell of a clap! A meeting? What, this afternoon? Well, I suppose it would be all right if the storm clears away. Have you spoken to Ivy and Roy?”

Gus said that he hadn’t, wanting to clear it with her first. He explained that he was considering going away for a week and he wondered what the others would think. The Miriam Blake case seemed to have ground to a halt, and he was not at all sure that it was worth pursuing. They really needed to have a discussion, with all present.

“Going away? What for? And where?”

“Can’t tell you, I’m afraid. One of those things that come up now and then.”

Deirdre sighed. “Oh, Gus, not that old thing! I thought we’d left Gus the Secret Agent behind us now. It’s much more likely that you don’t want to have anything more to do with a case involving your ex-wife. That’s quite understandable, you daft old thing! No need to go away. Just leave the rest to me and the two oldies. Anyway, I’ll give Ivy and Roy a buzz and see if they’re free. Be here at two o’clock, unless you hear to the contrary.”

AROUND TWO, THE skies cleared, and the air was fresh, washed clean by the sudden storm. It was cooler, and Ivy and Roy set out from Springfields in a much happier mood. Deirdre had given them no details about this meeting, apart from saying that Gus had called it.

As they walked up the drive to Tawny Wings, Ivy remarked that it was looking its best after the rain. The tall
hollyhocks had withstood the heavy shower and stood unbowed by the front door. Deirdre was there to welcome them, and Gus hovered in the background, looking worried.

“Come on in,” Deirdre said. “Can you manage the stairs again, Roy?”

He was tempted to answer that given a shot of Miriam’s primrose wine, he could leap over the moon. But, glancing at Ivy’s stern face beside him, he thought better of it.

When they were settled, Gus cleared his throat and began to speak. “Sorry about the short notice, folks, and thanks a lot for coming along. The thing is, I am feeling in need of a break.”

“I thought you had a top-secret mission,” Deirdre said.

“That too,” said Gus. “And to continue, as we seem to be getting nowhere on Miriam Blake’s case, I am planning a week or so away from the village. A long way away. I wanted you all to know now so that any lingering difficulties regarding the missing hand and the lost earring can be dealt with before I go.”

There was a shocked silence, and then Ivy spoke. “When do you propose to go, and where can we get hold of you if something urgent comes up?”

Gus replied that he planned to travel on Monday, and asked how likely was it that something urgent would come up? As far as he could see, they had no reliable facts to investigate. And where was the crime? Originally, Miriam had wanted the missing hand investigated, but she herself had muddied the water there. Was it actually in the woods in the first place, and given that Rose Budd had seen something, had it been a severed hand from a dead body? And then it had disappeared, and every time Miriam talked about it, it assumed a different description. Severed or not? A deathly white or a faded yellowish colour?

“But what about your wife, Gus? I don’t wish to be alarmist,” said Deirdre mildly, “but she does seem to have disappeared without a word. And why did she come here in the first place, when she knew she would not be welcome. And again, what did Miriam Blake say to her to cause her to do a bunk, if that is what she has done?”

Gus hung his head. “Kath was always doing things for no reason at all,” he muttered. “I don’t think there’s much for us to investigate there.”

Another silence, then Deirdre continued. “Gus, why did you go rushing home and then back again on that day I asked you to lunch? Did you go to see Kath? And wasn’t it the day she disappeared?”

“Of course not!” he replied crossly. “The less I saw of her, the better. I thought you all realised that. I went home to feed Whippy. What are you suggesting, Deirdre? That I went home, strangled Kath and buried her in the woods, dropped her earring and got back here in time for lunch?”

His face was red and angry, and he got to his feet.

“Sit down, Gus!” said Ivy, in a new, powerful voice. “Deirdre is only suggesting what others, meaning the law, might come up with. There is obviously much more to discuss, and I suggest we break for a cup of tea. Will you oblige, Deirdre? And Gus, you might like to take a turn round the garden. But be back in here in ten minutes.”

Deirdre and Gus left the room, and Roy turned to Ivy. “Has our Deirdre loosed a cat among the pigeons, my dear?” he said. “This will take a bit of sorting out.”

WHEN THE MEETING reconvened, Gus found himself at the receiving end of a barrage of awkward questions. These mostly came from Deirdre and were on the subject of his relationship with his ex-wife, Kath. He protested that his private life was his own affair, but Deirdre would not leave it there. She said that since Kath’s disappearance and failure to reestablish contact, it was now very important for Gus to think carefully about his conversations with her and prepare an accurate account of his movements since she vanished.

“Why?” said Gus, desperately trying to avoid Ivy’s gimlet eyes. “I had very little to do with her. She stayed with Miriam. And anyway, why does it matter? She’s probably somewhere miles away, living in the lap of luxury at someone else’s expense and giving no thought to any of us. She obviously made a quick getaway before poor Miriam could ask for her lodging money. She didn’t pay her, you know.”

“The reason, Augustus,” said Ivy, in measured tones, “why you need to listen to Deirdre, is that Kath might turn up at any minute, not living in the lap of luxury and possibly not living at all. In plain English, the woman might be dead. Her earring was found in the woods, and who knows, there may be a hoard in there, buried out of sight until it could be collected.”

“So?” said Gus defiantly.

“So, you are known to have hated her and equally well known to be hard up. You returned to the Row, supposedly to feed Whippy, around the time when she could have been abducted, hidden away or”—she hesitated—“murdered.”

The others were speechless, and Gus stood up, shoving his chair back with a thump. “How dare you, Ivy!” he said. “I have had more than enough of this. I thought I was among friends who trusted me, but I see I was mistaken. I hereby resign from Enquire Within. I have personal things to sort out and shall be out of reach as from Monday. Do not try to get in touch.”

Ivy shrugged her shoulders and said she had merely pointed out a few facts and would say no more.

It was Roy who came to the rescue, as he had a number of times in the past. He reached out his hand and took hold of Gus’s sleeve. “Sit down, old chap,” he said. “I am sure Ivy meant no harm and may even have intended to help you by pointing out a dangerous situation that could occur in the future, for which it would be prudent to be prepared. Please sit down, do, dear man. We are all your friends here, and friends stick together. And if Kath does turn out to be alive and well, we shall all be delighted.”

“Well said, Roy,” said Deirdre. “Whatever happens, Gus, we shall support you in every way we can.”

Gus took a deep breath. “I haven’t bloody well
done
anything!” he exploded. Then he sat down and wiped his hand across his eyes. “Anyway,” he said in a calmer voice, “thanks, Roy, for your vote of confidence, if that’s what it was. Ivy?”

Ivy nodded. “Never had any doubts,” she said.

“Deirdre?”

“Of course, you old silly.”

“And Roy,” said Gus. “You are a boon and a blessing to men. Thanks, my friend.”

GUS WALKED TOWARDS home, head down and lost in thought. He pondered ruefully on the fact that of all the tight situations he had been in, this last meeting at Tawny Wings was the worst. He had been right, he realised, to have chosen Ivy Beasley to be his ally in forming Enquire Within, but little had he thought she would turn against him. Not that she had done so now, not completely. But her old face was severe with suspicion, and it had not entirely cleared when the meeting ended.