The Door

THE DOOR

JIM CARR

COPYRIGHT:JamesWCarr2022

ISBN: 978-1-989425-45-9

Chapter One

Alex Thorton read the letter a second time. He felt the embossed letters on the back of the envelope. It came from the Prime Minister’s office, an invitation for new MPs to attend a garden party at the Prime Minister’s summer home in Gladstonbury. He smiled and wondered what to wear. Dermot Marshall, the PM’s chief of staff, would know, and he made a note to call him.

He was sitting in his constituency office on Shaftsbury Street in Gladstonbury. Aside from a letter from Parliament confirming his election, which he had framed and hung on the wall behind his desk below a large picture of the Queen, his office was Spartan compared to other MP offices.

Except for a second-hand desk, two chairs, and a small sofa next to the door, his office was bare bones in keeping his campaign promise to use taxpayer money wisely. He resisted urgings from his secretary, Margaret Gillmore, to add a carpet and wallpaper his office walls, but she brought in a few colour pictures showing Gladstonbury’s parks and painted her office wall white. There was also a battered olive green filing cabinet, a black phone, and a second-hand typewriter.

Alex had an appointment with an estate agent in the afternoon. He prided himself on spending money wisely and now had enough to buy the old Manor house, where

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it was said Shakespeare once dined. No one had lived there for years, and it needed repair because it was said to be haunted. That was for ignorant people. He didn’t believe in ghosts, but if it meant it could get the Manor house at a low price, he was prepared to believe it for a day or two.

He met Adam Henshaw, the estate agent at The Gladstone’s newly opened dining room, about an hour later. It was packed, and several wellwishers stopped Alex to congratulate him. Hugh Gatewood, The Gladstone’s owner, led them to a table in the corner where they could have a private conversation. They were barely seated when Henshaw offered him a toast. “To your continued success, Alex.” The toast was with water, but it suited Alex in every way. They talked about a new tax the government was considering that would extend to the sale of homes. “Everyone thinks we earn a bucket full of money every time we make a sale, but there’s precious little left by the time we pay expenses.”

“I’ll look it when I get back to Whitehall.”

Henshaw nodded and suddenly brightened. “Talking about sales, are you really interested in buying Somerset Hall?”

“I am but not at the price the owners want for it.”Then, after a pause, “we both know it’s not an easy sell at any price considering the tales about it being haunted by ghosts.”

Henshaw’s face darkened. “I’ll see the owners this afternoon and try to get them to lower their price. If I can, are you prepared to buy it?”

“As I said, if the price is right, I’m prepared to buy it. This afternoon, if that helps.”

***

“Leave it with me.”

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“Mr. Henshaw has been calling you all afternoon. He wants to know if he can see you this afternoon,” said his secretary. “He sounded very anxious.”

“Tell him I will be here until six.”

Thirty minutes later, Adam Henshaw walked into his office with a folder bulging with papers. “The owners are prepared to cut the price by 30%. The owner has died, and his daughter owns it now, and she wants to move to London.”

Henshaw leafed through the folder to find the bill of sale. He placed it in front of Alex, who read it over carefully before signing it. “I see it must be witnessed. Will my secretary do?”

Henshaw nodded. Alex reached for the intercom and asked her to come into his office. “You need to witness my signature.” He then signed the sale document and passed it to Margaret, who signed it. “Will that be all?”

Alex nodded and passed the document back to Henshaw, who provided him with a copy of the bill of sale with the owner’s signature. Alex studied it and nodded. Henshaw rose and shook his hand. “It’s yours now, lock, stock and barrel. I will take it to the records office at town hall and have the sale recorded.”

***

ith Mayor Harker. He could feel someone looking at him and turned to see a young woman in her early 20s staring in his direction. She caught his eyes and walked towards him.

She held out her hand. “Call me Belinda. Not the PM’s daughter, please. And why is the most handsome man of the gathering standing alone?”

He was about to respond but instead took her hand and kissed it. “I didn’t know the PM had such a beautiful

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daughter.”

Belinda had stars in her bright blue eyes. She pushed back her blond hair with her left hand to show more of her face. “Fortunately, I’ve inherited my mother’s looks.”

They both laughed. “Have you seen our garden yet? It’s quite wonderful.” She grabbed his arm and led him down a path of flowers and to a bower entwined with freshly budded roses. “Shall we sit?” she said, leading him to sit beside her. She kissed him on the lips. “I’ve wanted to do that since you entered. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s my lucky day.”

“That is very sweet of you. All the others are doing their damndest to get noticed by my father. Her blond hair was cut short, and she had the habit of running her hand through it when she was attracted to someone. Her voice was soft in a way that made others feel excited.

“Kiss me again,” she said, closing her eyes. Alex helped her stand and put his arms around her, and kissed her for almost a minute. She withdrew and smiled before slipping her arm in his and leading him to the crowd of ministers around her father.

Belinda called out. Her father heard her voice and spotted her with one of his MPs. “I’d like you to meet your newest MP, Alex Thorton.”The PM nodded, and a few minutes later, he led them inside the greenhouse.

“Yes,” said the PM, “you represent the riding of Gladstonbury. You’re very welcome. I hope my daughter hasn’t made a nuisance of herself. I want to introduce you to some of the people who may be of help to you come election time.” He led into the garden, where Ethan Howard, Gladstonbury’s richest man, was talking to Dr. Manson Culver and Inspector Winton Hazlett.

“I understand you’ve acquired Somerset Hall,” said Hazlett, shaking Alex’s hand.

Alex smiled. “I’ve had my eye on it for some time.”

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“You’re not scared of ghosts, I take it?” said the PM with a laugh. His bushy eyebrows arched in a smile. “All the same, I should not feel comfortable there by myself. I take it, you’re not married.”

Alex smiled, unsure what to say next.

Mason Culver led the others in a loud laugh and patted him on the back. “I have a feeling you will be sooner than you imagine. You’d be quite a catch.”

***

“There’s someone from the PM’s office for you,” Margaret shouted. Alex lifted the receiver. It was Dermot Marshall. “It appears you’ve made quite an impression on the PM’s daughter.

“We met at the garden party. I hope all is well.”

“The PM tells me she’s fallen madly in love with you.”

“I’m not sure why. We had a brief chat, and she ended up kissing me. I didn’t pay much attention to it. I’m not exactly in her circle of friends.”

“Whatever the case, she’s after her father to find out if you’re interested in her and, if you are, what your intentions are. The PM has asked me to ask you to meet with him tomorrow morning.”

Alex didn’t respond immediately.

“Are you still there, Alex?”

“Yes, I’d be happy to meet with the PM at any time he wishes.”

“Say ten o’clock.”

“Ten o’clock it is.” Alex put the receiver down and sat back. A hundred different thoughts were swirling in his head all at one time. He had a good feeling about it but wasn’t sure how to play his hand. He would let the PM start and see where it would take him. He’s bound to ask how I feel about his daughter, he thought, and knew he needed to think about a few ways he might respond.

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More thoughts crowded his head when he turned off the light and closed his eyes: How he should sit, how could he make a favourable impression on the PM. He would try to copy the way he sits and how he holds his head. Whatever the outcome, he had to make the PM feel he was cabinet material.

He rose early and cut his chin while shaving. He looked in the drawer for the alum stick to stop the bleeding. His hands were still shaking when he ate breakfast and knew he must get control of himself. He dressed and dove to the PM’s summer home 20 minutes early for their meeting.

Dermot Marshall was waiting for him and led him to the PM’s office. Marshall paused at the door before knocking. “He’s in a foul mood this morning. So be careful,” he said, opening the door and leading Alex into the PM’s home office. The PM, a tall man with sharp, piercing slate grey eyes and white thining hair, shook his hand and motioned Alex to the chair in front of his desk.

“It would appear, Mr. Thorton, that you have made quite an impression on my daughter. She’s quite taken with you. I gather she has made no secret of that to you.”

“We exchanged a kiss, but that was all. Belinda did most of the talking.”

The PM’s eyes were like lasers.“Whatever the case, how do you feel about her?”

”I am fascinated by her but do not know her well enough to give you a definitive answer.”

“Thank you for being honest.”Then, after a pause, “how do you feel about getting to know her and for us to get to know you better?”

Alex looked the PM in the eye. “I should like that very much.”

“Call her when you feel like seeing her again. Here is her number,” he added, passing a card to Alex. “One final question. Are you seeing someone else?”

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Alex thought about Faith and shook his head.

The rain spattered the windshield of Alex’s car in front of Faith’s home. His hands shook as he tried to light a cigarette.

“What’s wrong, Alex. Something is,” said Faith.

Alex never liked being the bearer of ill news and dreaded for what he had to say now. “This is the last time we’ll be seeing each other.”

“What do you mean?” her voice suddenly became hard and mean – a tone he had never heard from her before.

He glanced at her face. In the light from an overhead street light, he noticed the lines that suddenly appeared around the corners of her eyes and the tightness of her lips. “Just as I said. We will no longer be seeing each other. I’m sorry, but I’m moving on.”

“But everyone believes we’re a couple. I will not be able to show my face anywhere in town once this gets out.”

His voice became stronger now. “I never suggested that we were a couple, not even once.”

Faith started to cry. He resisted putting his arms around her or trying to console her. She looked at him. “You will regret this, Alex Thorton. You’ve led me down the garden path, and you’ll pay for this, one way or another. And I will do everything in my power to make sure you do.”

She opened the door and left it open as she walked away with her head bent and her shoulders shuddering.

Chapter Two

“Wake up, you lazy bones,” said Belinda’s voice on the phone. “The morning’s half gone, and you’re still in bed. Don’t deny it. I can hear it in your voice.”

“I have a busy morning ahead of me.”

“What’s so busy that you can’t see me?”

“I just bought the old Manor house that everyone thinks is haunted. If you’d like to come with me, your suggestions for updating it would be very appreciated.”

“Wait for me at the Manor house.” Belinda walked into their garage, started her two-seater, and headed in the direction of Somerset Hill. Why anyone would want a run-down old house like that was beyond her. She had the latest bed style with covers imprinted with The Beatles and a phonograph player that played LPs. She had a private stash of marijuana hidden among her underclothes and smoked it every night before going to sleep.

Let him have his Manor house. She would turn it into place with strings of beads at all doorways and have special chairs where her friends could light up and get into the mood.

Alex was waiting for her when she arrived. He showed her the key to the front door. She grabbed it from his hand and opened the door, which took them to an entrance hall, with flags hanging from poles on both

sides of the room. Belinda led the way, making a mental note to change the flags for something more psychological, and entered the dining room, with its long hardwood table stained a deep brown that reflected the light from the large window on the opposite wall. Next was the kitchen, with its mammoth fireplace, and then into the library, still filled with old books.

“The bedrooms are upstairs. Shall we?” Belinda said with a mischievous look in her eyes. She went straight for the master bedroom. It was a large room with a threadbare carpet of a country scene. She sat on the edge of the bed and drew him to her, smothering him with kisses as she lowered them to the bed.

Alex decided to delay moving into the Manor house. Everyone thought it was because of the ghost, but he became increasingly uneasy about his relationship with Belinda. If her father knew what they were doing, he could kiss his career goodbye. Worse still, what would happen if she suddenly became pregnant.

Belinda wanted to meet him every day at the Manor, but he put her off by saying he had to deal with some local problems that required immediate attention. She began to sulk and, on some occasions, slapped his face when he disagreed with her.

Alex also knew he had to wait it out until her father had raised him to a vacant seat on the cabinet. He knew there was a cabinet post vacant and spent the next few days finding out what it entailed and made a point of learning what the previous minister was working just before he died. A week or so later, he felt capable he could handle the post and able to handle any question about it with the PM, should he discuss the what the previous minister was working on and how he would he would

move everything ahead.

When the meeting came, the PM offered him the post and shook his hand.

“My daughter thinks the world of you. She talks about you every day and made my life miserable until I offered you this post. Unfortunately, you will need to spend much of your time at Whitehall. I hope Belinda understands that.”

Alex thanked him. He could sense that he knew all about his daughter and what she does. “I will miss her on those days,” he said, shaking the PM’s hand.

He left to find Peter Carrick waiting for him just outside the entrance. Alex extended his hand, but Carrick ignored it. “That cabinet post was intended for me. I’ve waited for it nine years and was promised it by the PM only to be told that you were to be the new minister. You wormed your way into his confidence by playing up to his daughter, who hasn’t got an ounce of common sense in her head. You’re welcome to her. I hope she makes you miserable.”

Carrick turned and walked away slowly to his car with his head bent in thought. Alex would never forget the look in Carrick’s eyes as he turned away. Alex didn’t have a good feeling about any of it.

He returned to his office to find two reporters waiting for him. Malcolm Betts from The Observer stood when he entered and took a picture of him. “How does it feel to be the new Minister of State for the Home Department?”

The young reporter for the BBC was next. “This is quite an honour for a newly elected MP.”

Alex waved them into his office before asking Margaret to make tea for them. He motioned them to the two empty chairs in front of his desk. “During the election, you promised to see the government did not waste any money,” said Betts, looking around Alex’s office.

“Does that mean we can expect to see some cuts

JIM CARR

in services?” said the BBC reporter, holding out of his tape recorder for Alex’s response. “Not at all. There are just simpler and more efficient ways to spend our hardearned tax money.”

Margaret entered with three cups of tea and a plate of cookies. She was about to leave when Alex stopped her. “Get to know us, gentlemen. You can expect to hear a lot from us going forward.”

Margaret passed him a message. Alex stood. “Gentlemen, my right hand and constituency secretary, Margaret Gillmore.”

Margaret smiled at them and lowered her head. The telephone rang in the outer office, and she left to answer it. It was Dermot Marshall. She returned to tell him there was an urgent call.

“Excuse me, gentlemen. I’ll be back in a minute.” He left and asked Margret to keep them company before answering the phone.

“It’s Dermot, Alex. Some sad news you need to be made aware of. Peter Carrick has tried to commit suicide. He tried to shoot himself in the head and just ended up wounding himself. He’s in the Gladstonbury hospital now.”

Alex returned the receiver to its cradle, and he remembered the look in Carrick’s eyes and the way he bent his head as he walked to his car. It all came back to him in a flash. He hadn’t known that Carrick had been promised this cabinet post, but it didn’t matter. And for the first time, he regretted his promotion.

They looked at Alex’s face and could tell he was disturbed. “Bad news?” said the BBC reporter.

“Very bad news. One of the party’s great MPs has been taken to hospital. I’m sorry, gentlemen, but I must cut short our interview. I want to go to the hospital and see whatever I can do for him.”

Alex followed them out and took the main road to

the hospital. He entered, and the first person he saw was Agnes Childers, the matron. “I’m here about Peter Carrick. Is he able to have visitors?”

“You’re our new MP,” said Agnes. “He’s just out of surgery and will be taken to a room in about 30 minutes. He was heavily sedated, and it may be time before he comes out of it.”

Margaret reached him at the hospital. “Dermot called with a heads-up. The PM plans to visit Carrick this afternoon.”

He couldn’t stand just sitting there and got up and went for a walk on the hospital grounds. He looked at the flowers and the trees that lined the walkway, almost bumping into someone looking at one of the trees. The man had been preoccupied and straightened up.

“Sorry,” said Alex.

“No problem. The fault is mine. I was looking at the tree I planted here just before my wife died four years ago.” He studied Alex’s face. “You’re our new MP and now a member of the cabinet. My name is Winton Hazlett. We met at your PM’s garden party a few days ago.”

“I needed to get out of the waiting room. A fellow MP was brought here this morning. I stopped by to wish him luck.” Alex looked at his wristwatch. “It’s best I’d be back.” He shook Hazlett’s hand again and walked back to the waiting room. Hazlett watched him disappear into the hospital and felt that something more than seeing his friend was preying on the new MP’s mind.

Agnes spotted Alex as soon as he entered. “Your friend is in his room now. We just heard from the prime minister’s office that he will also be visiting Mr. Carrick.” She led him down a long corridor to Carrick’s room and led him inside.

“You’ve got a visitor, Mr. Carrick. And the prime minister will be popping by a bit later. Remember, you’ve just had an operation, so don’t strain yourself. If

JIM CARR

you feel tired, just close your eyes and go to sleep. Your visitors will understand.”

Carrick looked at him for almost a minute before acknowledging Alex’s presence. “Feeling guilty, are we?”

“I didn’t know you had been promised the post. If I had –“

“You would have accepted it all the same. Some day, someone will do you in, whether it’s me or someone else, you’ll pay for it with your life.” His hand trembled as he tried to raise himself. “Now, get out of my sight.”

He felt like running away. He went back to the room and pulled the shades down, and went to sleep. He woke with the ringing of his telephone four hours later. It was Margaret. “The PM has been trying to reach you. Wants you to call him ASAP.” Then after a pause, “are you all right?”

“I’m not sure. Felt a bit queasy and came back to my room and sleep it off.”

“In any event, I’d make that call before you do anything.”

Dermot answered his call. “Where have you been? The PM has been getting me to call your office every five minutes.”

“I was feeling a bit queasy and came back to my room to sleep it off. I feel much better now.”

“The old man wants to see you. If I were you, I’d get my clothes on and come here as soon as possible. If he asks where you were, tell him you were visiting voters.”

Fifteen minutes later, Alex knocked on the PM’s door.

The PM had fire in his eyes. “Where in the hell were you?”

“Seeing some of the people who helped elect me. I wanted to thank them.”

“Anyone in particular?”

“Hazlett, the Police Inspector. Nice chap. He told

him his wife had died four years ago and had planted a tree in her memory.”

The PM softened when he heard Hazlett’s name. “We saw Carrick this afternoon. He feels he was entitled to the cabinet post you got. He’s a complainer and would have been a problem for me if he were in that portfolio. I told him I was setting up a royal commission and that I would appoint him to head it at three times what he would earn as a cabinet minister. I’m not sure if that mollified him, but if I were you, I’d steer clear of him.”

Belinda saw him talking to her father and ran to him. She put her arm in his. “You’re just in time to take me out for supper.”

Belinda took her car, and he followed in his. She entered the Old Milton Road before turning onto a dirt road and stopping at an old deserted farmhouse. Alex stopped her before she entered. “If this is a place where people come to take drugs, neither you nor I can afford to be seen there. If someone has a camera and takes a picture of me, I can kiss my career as an MP goodbye forever.”

She opened the door, and they entered. Loud music was playing, and people were dancing or kissing in the shadows. “I want to leave, and I want you to leave with me. And I want to go now.” He grabbed her arm and headed for the door.

She shook herself free. “Go if you want. But I’m staying.”

Chapter Three

Forthe first time in days, he thought about Faith and wondered how she was feeling. He needed her calming effect but thought twice about calling her. Belinda was becoming a nightmare. He would need to talk to her, cabinet post or not, and tell her that she either had to change or they needed to stop seeing each other.

He didn’t have to wait long. Two hours later after he had left her, Belinda knocked on his door. “I’m sorry.” She began to cry, and he held her to calm her until she stopped.

He helped her sit down on the edge of his bed and held her hand. “I can’t go on like this, Belinda. If the police had raided your friends when we were there, it would be all over Gladstonbury and News of the World the next day, not to mention the BBC. And that’s only half of it.”

He took her hands in his. “Then there’s Somerset Manor. I do not like the plans you have for it. I need a place where my voters feel comfortable visiting or entertaining other MPs who may not share your decorating ideas. You will have to go along with this. When you’re in the public eye, you need to think about how others view you, the way you dress, the way you decorate your home and where you go.”

Alex wasn’t sure if she had been listening. She was nodding but did not respond. Tears were forming in the

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corners of her eyes as her blue eyes turned up at him. “Let’s spend the night at Somerset House and see if the ghosts will visit us?”

They drove in Belinda’s car to Somerset House. The light Alex had turned on in the hall had been turned off. Alex reached into his pocket to find the key for the front door. He almost dropped it as it tried to insert it into the lock. The door seemed to open by itself. He entered first and struck a match to find the light switch. It was already on but not working. Belinda had a small penlight, and they used it to enter the dining room where the light switch worked. They made their way into the kitchen and looked inside the refrigerator. It had been cleaned out.

Upstairs, Belinda lay down in the four-poster bed in the middle of the main bedroom and pulled him down upon her. They talked about what it would be like living there. Alex rose and lit a match to set the fire to the paper and kindling already in the fireplace. They sat on the edge of the bed and watched it flame and slowly die.

“So, are we going to spend the night here?”

Alex nodded. “But I will need to leave early. All my clothes and shaving gear are in my room.”

She giggled and drew him down beside her.

In the morning, Belinda announced she was going to spend the day there. “It needs a bit of work,” she said as they drove him to her home, where he picked up his car. He kissed her goodbye and arrived at his room a few minutes later, where he washed, shaved and dressed before heading out.

It was a day of days. The fields were never greener, and an air of expectation hovered in the air. Margaret was already at work. She blew away a curl from her forehead and made him tea. She knew that he didn’t eat breakfast and made toast for him. He stood eating the toast at her desk and asked her what was on his calendar for the day between bites.

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“You have a meeting with Mayor Harker at 11 here, and a women’s group would like you to attend a tea they’re having to raise money for a children’s playground, and your deputy minister will be here to bring you up to date with your portfolio. His name is Alastair Benedict.”

“Promise me you will like what I’ve done to the Manor. It’s taking on a life on its own and will be the envy of all my father’s cronies. One more thing, I found out why the entrance light wasn’t working. The bulb needed to be replaced.”

He smiled as he replaced the receiver when Margaret appeared. “It’s the reporter from The Observer. He wants to talk to you.”

Malcolm Betts entered and sat down opposite him. He held his camera on his lap and took out a notebook. “Sorry to bother you, minister, but we hear rumours that you snatched your posting away from someone who had been promised it earlier, largely because of your relationship with the PM’s daughter.”

Alex didn’t respond.

“Can you confirm or deny?” Betts raised his pen and waited for Alex to respond.

“The PM’s daughter is just a friend of mine. I’m not sure who told you about my appointment, but your information is not accurate.”

“That’s it?”

Alex nodded. He knew better than to bring the PM’s office into it and that he would be judged by how he handled the press.

Betts almost bumped into Alastair Benedict on his way out, and he looked at Benedict as someone he knew but could not place. Benedict was in his early 50s and

walked and talked with a commanding air. His hair had turned grey six years earlier, and his thin face softened his look. His eyebrows were thick and twitched when something bothered him. His navy suit was pressed with a matching red-striped blue tie.

Alex heard Margaret’s buzz and left his desk to welcome Benedict. Benedict had a firm handshake. He sat down opposite Alex and opened his briefcase. He withdrew a fat folder which he placed in Alex’s desk. “This will help to bring you up to speed.” Then after a pause, “guard it carefully. A lot of people would like to know what is in it.”

Alex put the folder in his briefcase. He would go over it when he went to bed. Then, he remembered he had promised Belinda they would spend the night there again and that she planned to make some changes to the Manor.

Belinda met him at the door with a blindfold. “I want you to put this on. You can take it off when I say so. She grabbed his arm and led him into the dining room. “Close your eyes,” she said, removing the blindfold. Alex looked around the room and shivered. The walls had been painted a navy blue and decorated with Zodiac signs and stars and planets.

“What do you think? I did it all myself.”

“I’m not sure what to say. It’s not what an MP’s home should look like.”

“You’re not with it. It’s the latest thing. People will see you as a man of the future, a man who understands young people and their aspirations.” Belinda’s face was full of expectation.

“You may be right. But right now, I must deal with a lot of people who would feel more comfortable with something a bit more traditional.”

Belinda started to cry. “You don’t like it. Just say so and don’t pussyfoot around it.”

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“I don’t want to hurt you, Belinda. I appreciate all the trouble you went to. But right now, I need your understanding.”

“Then I’m not sure you’ll like what I’ve done to our bedroom.” She started for the stairs, and he followed her up. She opened the door to the main bedroom and led him inside.

The walls had been painted a pale blue and decorated with decals of flower beds and trees with a small river in the distance. Belinda studied his face to look for clues.

“It’s a work of art. I love it. Don’t ever change it.”

“You really mean it?”

He held her close. “Absolutely.”

They went back down and looked at the dining room again. “Maybe you’re right.” She pointed to the kitchen. Strings of multi-coloured beads hung in the doorway. “I can tell you don’t like that either.”

“Your head is in the right place, Belinda, but you are just a bit ahead of most people in the way you see things.”

She nodded as she entered the kitchen. “I also cooked supper,” she said, carrying out two plates with food. She placed them on each side of the table. She then lit a candle between them. Alex looked down at his plate and was relieved to see potatoes, yellow string beans, cucumbers and salmon steak. They ate in silence. Belinda looked at him and smiled. When they finished, she returned to the kitchen and emerged with apple pie and tea.

Alex couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“When my mother died, my father hired a cook. “She used to tell me that if she hoped to have a happy marriage, I had better learn to cook. She made me learn how to cook everything my father liked.”

“When they finished, they went back into the en-

trance hall and sat down on the sofa. “I had a visitor today. Your old girlfriend, Faith. She wanted to know how you were getting along and to congratulate you on your new appointment. She didn’t stay long. I invited her for tea, but she said she had to get back to work.”

Alex wasn’t sure what to say and decided to say nothing.

“I can see that if you had married her that the dining room and the kitchen would have been decorated exactly the way you wanted. In fact, you wouldn’t need to tell her how.”

Belinda rose and put on her coat. “I think you still have feelings for her and wish deep down she was here with you now.”

“Where are you going?”

“To a place where I’m wanted and loved.” She went to the door and slammed it behind her.

Around nine o’clock, he decided to go to bed. He slid inside the covers, put two pillows behind his back and opened the folder the assistant minister had given him. He flipped open the folder and started to read. A cold wind breezed through the room, and he could almost feel the presence of someone. Maybe, he thought, the ghost. He would need to know more about the spirit in the morning. He read a few more pages, put back the pillows, turned off the bedside lamp, and put the covers over the head. He could smell Belinda’s scent and closed his eyes.

Chapter Four

Sgt. Connor Moreton knocked on Hazlett’s door. “There’s been a suspicious death at the old Somerset Manor.”

“Does Archie know?”

“Not yet. I thought I’d better tell you first. It appears the victim is our newly minted MP and cabinet member.”

Hazlett remembered talking to him only a couple of days ago and thought Thorton looked somewhat down at the time. “Who phoned it in?”

The PM’s daughter, Belinda. It seems they had an argument two days ago and left in a huff, and when she returned this morning to makeup, she found him dead in his bed.”

“Tell Archie I need to talk to him but make sure he knows about Thorton’s death.” He sat back and wondered if he should call the Chief Inspector. It would be very difficult with the PM’s daughter involved and with Thorton just being elevated to the cabinet. He glanced at the pictures of his first Lancaster crew. Deaths always made him think of them.

Archie Ridley, Hazlett’s senior detective, knocked and entered with Connor in tow carrying three mugs of tea. When they had settled, Archie put down his mug. “This one is going to be a bit touchy. I can feel it in my bones.”

“In fact, I was debating whether to call the Chief In-

spector, but decided to wait to see what Mason Culver says.” Then, after a pause, “call Mason and have him meet me at Somerset Manor. Tell him it’s urgent and to call me back as soon as he’s had a chance to view the body.”

“Anything else?”

“Take June with you. She’ll be able to talk to the PM’s daughter in a way we can’t. I’d also like to talk to her before you head out.”

June Spottispode, now June Gibson. had joined the constabulary four years earlier and was now one of their detectives. “I understand how important this is.”

“Be extra careful around the PM’s daughter. It seems she was seeing Thorton romantically.”

***

Dr. Carver arrived a few minutes after Archie and June had entered the Manor and had a chance to view the body. Belinda was crying and wringing her hands. She was with Dermot Marshall, the PM’s chief of staff, while Dr. Carver turned on the lamp beside the bed and examined the body. The look of horror on Thorton’s face was unnerving. Belinda looked at his face and went into tears again. “It’s the ghost,” she kept saying over and over. I warned him, but he just laughed it off. I should have stayed.”

Dr. Carver bumped into Mayor Harker on the way out. “Is it murder?” said Harker.

“Can’t tell until I have him on my table.” Dr. Culver went to Hazelett’s office first and entered without knocking. “Too early to say, Winton. All I can tell you is that he had a look of horror on his face, and his girlfriend repeating over and over that the ghost had scared him to death.”

“I don’t believe in ghosts,” said Hazlett.

“Neither do I,” said Carver. “I realize just how sen-

sitive all this is and will try to get back to you early this afternoon.”

Archie and his crew returned a couple of hours later. June decided to stay with Belinda and keep her company. “We dusted the place for fingerprints and checked for any new footprints outside. The dining room was an absolute nightmare. Gossip suggests that the PM’s daughter is a bit of a hippie.”

The sudden ringing of his phone startled them. “Inspector Hazlett, the PM would like to talk to you.”

“Hazlett, my daughter has returned home with one of your detectives, crying her eyes out. I understand that my new cabinet minister has died. You would oblige me if you could wrap this up as soon as possible.”

“We will do our best, Prime Minister. Please feel free to call us for an update at any time.”

It was time to call the Chief Inspector. “How did the prime minister sound when he called?”

“I think he’s concerned about his daughter in all this. She was Thorton’s girlfriend. At the moment, Dr. Carver is examining the body. I expect to hear from him sometime this afternoon.”

“Keep me posted.”

June entered when he hung up. “I’m just back from seeing Belinda to her home. She’s an odd person for any MP to hang around with.”

“In what way?”

“I think she associates herself with drug addicts and believes in free love. There’s no doubt in my mind that she was in love with Thorton. Very possessive and insanely jealous. She mentioned that his former girlfriend had popped by to congratulate Thorton on his promotion.”

“Do we have her name?”

“I don’t think she remembers, Inspector. But I’ll dig around.”

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Mason Culver was on the phone an hour later. “From the look on his face and his colour, I can only conclude that he was smothered to death by someone with a lot of strength or by someone in his sleep.”

“Then you don’t believe he was frightened to death by a ghost?”

Mason laughed. “If anything else pops up, I’ll call you first thing.”

“So it’s murder,” said Archie when he talked to the Inspector an hour later.

Hazlett didn’t respond immediately. He looked out the window and at the trees across the street and remembered Thorton’s sad face when they met in the hospital garden. Thorton had said he was there to see his friend.

“Go to the hospital and ask Agnes Childers, who Thorton was visiting a couple of days ago. And while you’re at it, go to Thorton’s constituency office and find out the name of Thorton’s old girlfriend. Ask Connor to see me.”

Connor wiped his balding head and sat down. Hazlett was pacing the floor, as he always did when he was thinking things out. Connor waited until Hazlett sat down. “You wanted to see me, Inspector?”

“I need you to find out all you can about the ghost of Somerset Manor. And don’t leave anything out.”

“It was an old story even when I was a boy. So the story goes that the daughter of the owner of Somerset Manor ordered his daughter to marry a wealthy merchant in town, and when she refused, he locked her in her room without food or water until she came to her senses. According to the story, she died a few days later, and her unhappy ghost has haunted the Manor house ever since.”

“Do you believe the story?”

“I have to confess I did at one time,” said Connor. “But when a group of us decided to sleep in the old

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house, someone locked me in the daughter’s bedroom.” He stroked his chin and sat back before adding, “I stayed awake, but nothing happened, and when they let me out, I told them a story about how she spoke to me and wanted me to help her escape.”

“Did they believe you?”

Connor laughed. “As far as I know, they probably still do.”

***

Archie kissed Agnes Childers on the cheek. “The Inspector would like to know the name of the person who visited Alexander Thorton visited a couple of days ago.”

“It was Peter Carrick, a fellow MP.”

“Why was Carrick in the hospital?”

“He shot himself accidentally. Personally, I think he tried to kill himself.”

“Do you know what they were talking about?”

Agnes lowered her voice. “I think they were arguing over something. Mr. Carrick’s voice was particularly loud.”

Agnes and the Inspector were schoolmates and friends. When Hazlett’s wife, Alma, died, Agnes and her husband helped Hazlett over the rough times. She had rolled her hair into a bun in the back of her head and was beginning to grey, but she still looked as she did in her late 20s. She had a soothing voice from comforting patients.

Archie left and made his way to Thorton’s constituency office. Margaret Gillmore was typing letters to Thorton’s key supporters about Thorton’s death and where and when his funeral would take place. She looked up and smiled when he opened the door.

“My name is Archie Ridley. I’m a detective with the Gladstonbury Constabulary. I’m here about Mr. Thorton’s untimely death.”

“How can I help?” she said, pushing back from the typewriter. “Could I offer you a tea?”

Archie shook his head. “A couple of things. Can you provide me with the name of Mr. Thorton’s former lady friend?”

“Faith Henshaw. A very lovely lady. I was heartbroken when they broke up.”

“How did she take it?”

“Not well, according to her friends. I think their breakup made her feel embarrassed somehow. She disappeared for a while, but I understand she’s coming out of her shell. It can happen to anyone.”

Margaret had an oval face and green eyes that smiled with her thin lips. She had been recently married and knew how she would feel if her husband left her for another woman. “You mentioned a couple of things.”

“Peter Carrick, the MP.”

“He was counting on being elevated to the cabinet post that Alex was given and felt very bitter about it. Alex told me he had threatened him.”

“In what way?”

“Alex didn’t elaborate.”

“Do you know where I might find him?”

Margaret shook her head.

***

Hazlett was talking to June when Archie returned. He slipped inside with Connor to hear Hazlett talking about the cause of death.

“Our MP was smothered to death. Probably using one of the pillows on his bed. Make sure to save the pillowcases. Who knows what they may yield?” He looked up to see Archie smiling at him. “What did you find out?”

“The name of the person Thorton was visiting was Peter Carrick. There were bad words between them in the hospital. There is talk he tried to kill himself. Blamed

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Thorton for grabbing the cabinet post he felt had been promised to him. The name of Thorton’s old girlfriend is Faith Madison. Thorton’s secretary told me that Faith dropped out of sight when Thorton dumped her. According to Belinda, she went to the Manor the day before to congratulate Thorton on his promotion.”

The sun was failing, and Connor switched on the overhead light.

“What about Belinda?” said Archie.

“She’s devastated. Cries at the drop of a hat and believes in that crazy story about the ghost. I try to comfort her, but it only seems to make her feel worse.”

”That’s enough for today, ladies and gentlemen. Do some hard thinking tonight and see what you come up with.”

In the morning, he would decide what to tell the PM and the Chief Inspector.

***

There was a stranger at his door. He looked out the window to see a young man whose face was vaguely familiar, blowing on his hands. He dried his hands and went to the door.

“Mr. Hazlett?” The voice was young and unsure. Hazlett nodded. “And you are?”

“My name is Ashley Fortune. I’m in big trouble, and my father told me you could work miracles.”

“Is your father Stan Fortune?”

The young man nodded as Hazlett opened the door and invited him inside.

“Before you say anything, you should know that I am a policeman and limited in what I can do on your behalf. How is your good father?”

“He has arthritis in his shoulders which keeps him up at night and looks frail on occasion.”

“He was a bit older than the rest of us and one of the

best radio men in the RAF.”

“My father didn’t mention that, but he said you always had a way of solving problems.” Ashley watched him finish shaving and dress. Ashley’s dark brown hair looked as though it hadn’t been washed in months. He had a thin face and bright dark eyes that kept moving when he talked. His clothes were dirty and needed washing.

“I want you to stay here and get washed and change your clothes if you have any. Then come to the constabulary and tell them I am expecting you. But before then, I need to know what your problem is and if it involves your father in any way.”

Ashley hung his head and thought of the best way to start. “A year ago, I fell in with a group of thieves. I didn’t join them in their crimes, but they introduced me to betting. They bankrolled me for the first couple of days, and I won lots of money, only to see it disappear and find myself deeply in debt to them. My father lent me the money to pay off the debt and some cash leftover, which I used to bet again. Before long, I was in debt again. I told them I couldn’t pay them. They told me to get my father to sell his house. I refused. They just laughed and told me they would kill my father if I didn’t come up with the money I owed them. I’m not asking you for money but help. And I’m scared if I go back to them, I will start gambling again.”

“I understand. Leave that to me and get some rest and come to the constabulary. In the meantime, I’ll do some hard thinking and try to find a solution.”

Connor was pouring his morning tea when Hazlett arrived and followed him into his office with the tea. “Ask June to see me for a minute.”

“I’m off to see Belinda. I’m worried about her. For some reason, she keeps blaming herself for Thorton’s death,” she said and leaning forward. “I see it’s not about

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that.”

“You’re right. Can you call your husband and tell him I need to talk to him before you go. And while you’re there, get to know the people who work there, including the PM’s chief of staff.”

“Surely you don’t suspect him?”

“I suspect everyone, including her father. Now off with you and call that husband of yours.”

Les Gibson, Hazlett’s navigator on his second Lancaster, was sipping the tea Connor had given him and waiting for Hazlett to finish his call to the Chief Inspector. “June told me about the murdered MP.”

“It’s not that, Leslie. It involves Stan Fortune. You may remember him. His son knocked on my door this morning and told me a terrible story about being in debt to a group of thieves. They told him if he fails to come up with the money in two weeks, they would take it out on his father. He glanced at his watch. I told him to meet me here this morning. He doesn’t know what to do. I need that good mind of yours to help out an old comrade.”

Gibson nodded. If you wish, I can ask Terry Carton to join us. As I recall, Stan and Terry were buddies.”

“Go ahead, after you’ve heard his son’s story.”

Ashley Fortune arrived at the constabulary about an hour later. His hair was washed and combed, and he had shaved. He wore new trousers and a navy sweater. “I’m here to see Mr. Hazlett. He’s expecting me.”

“Is he now?” said Connor. “Follow me, laddie.”

Connor stuck his head inside. “You’ve got a visitor, Inspector.”

Hazlett nodded and smiled. Gibson turned in his chair and stood when Ashley entered. “This is Stan Fortune’s son, Ashley. He’s staying with me for a bit. Ashley, this is one of your father’s friends. We flew together during the war.”

Gibson shook his hand. “You look just like your old

man. Here, sit next to me.”

“I’d like you to tell Mr. Gibson exactly what you told me. He’s here to help.”

Ashley stuttered a bit as she started talking. Connor entered with tea for them and passed one to Ashley. He took a sip and found his tongue. When he finished, he sunk back in his chair.

“This is a lot for a boy our age to have to deal with. I understand you’ll be staying with Flight.” Gibson never got over Hazlett’s wartime title. “To put your mind at rest, I plan to call another friend, Terry Carton, about it. Terry was your father’s best friend.”

“Among the three of us, we’ll do our best to protect you and your father from these people,” said Hazlett.

“What if you locked my father and me in one of your cells until this blows over?” said Ashley with a mischievous smile.

“They would just wait. We need to round them up and put them away for a few years.”

Gibson left to find a phone to call Carton. He looked around for June, but she was no longer at her desk. He looked at Connor. “Where’s June?”

“She’s already gone to the PM’s residence Pip.”

Gibson opened his notebook where he had Terry Carton’s number. Carton picked it up on the second ring. “Terry, it’s Les. I need to talk to you about another of our mates. Stan Fortune. His son has a problem with a criminal gang, threatening to take it out on Stan. We need you here ASAP. Stan’s son is staying with the Flight, and I’m asking Stan and you to come and stay with June and me. The Flight wants to round the gang up and put them away for a few years.”

“I know,” said Stan when Gibson called him. “They’ve already visited me and beat my knuckles with a filing iron as a taste of what I can expect if they don’t see their money. I’ll take the next train to Gladstonbury.”

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“I’ll be waiting for you at the station. What about your wife?”

“She died two years ago. I live alone with my son.”

“I’ll be looking for you at the station. If you don’t see me, go inside the station. You remember, Alf. He works there. Be sure to say hello to him.”

Gibson struck his head inside the station. “I’m picking Stan up at the station this afternoon.”

Hazlett gave him a V or Victory sign and turned back to Ashley. “I need to get back to work. Stay with me until you get used to us. When Pip gets back with June, I want you to stay glued to him. You’ll like him. In the meantime, get Connor to show you around the station until Pip gets back. I need to make a few calls.”

He took him to Connor and told him to show Ashley around the station and ask Pip to see him on his return. Connor took him down into the cells. “This is where we keep bad people.” The cell area smelled of sweat and urine and needed cleaning again. Ashley took out his handkerchief and put it over his nose. Connor looked at him and smiled. “Believe it or not, you get used to it and don’t smell it anymore. But it needs anothder cleaning. It’s a big job. Tall the prisoners must be put in one cell until their cells arfe washed and their beds changed.”

They made their way upstairs and Connnor no sooner sat down when his phone rang. It was Dermot Marshall. “The PM is wondering if you’ve made any headway yet.”

“We’re following up two leads as we speak. Please accept my apologies to the PM for the delay. Investigations are not always solved in a day or two.”

“I’m worried about Belinda. Poor thing,” said Marshall. “She blames herself for his death. It will give her closure if she feels you’re close to solving Thorton’s death.”

“Not death, Mr. Marshall. Murder. Thorton was

murdered, according to the coroner. He was smothered to death.”

The line went dead, and Hazlett dialled another number. “You must be reading my mind,” said Mason Culver. “We found some skin beneath the victim’s fingernails. We also found a sheet of paper that looks like an important government document. There was a folder beneath the covers in his bed which he had been evidently reading. I’m sending both the torn piece and the folder to you.”

June and Pip returned shortly after lunch. She went directly to Hazlett’s office. “That girl would drive anyone insane. She can’t seem to get it out of her that she had somehow caused Thorton’s death. But I did learn something. She has a secret admirer. A dozen roses arrived while we were walking around the garden. She ignored them for the most part and looked at the card only after I had urged her. It was signed: Your secret admirer — someone who loves you beyond everything else in the world.

“When I pressed her, she told me it probably came from one of her hippie friends who made no secret that they loved her. She hangs out with a group at a deserted house not far from the PM’s summer place. At the end of our walk, she threw the roses in one of the garbage pails.”

Chapter Five

Gibson spotted him as soon as Stan Fortune stepped from the train and headed for the station. He looked older. Fortune’s hair had turned grey and needed a barber, and his face was thinner than Gibson remembered. He also walked with a slight limp. It made him feel old. He waved to Fortune, who failed to see him as he disappeared into the train station.

Alf Harris spotted him as soon as he lifted his head from The Observer. “Stan. It’s me, Alf, the guy who kept you guys safe over Germany.”

Stan smiled weakly. “I remember you very well, Alf. My son is here and wanted me to come and stay with him.”

Gibson walked in and waved to him. “I see you’ve met, Alf. We’re all getting old.”

“And look it,” said Alf, stroking his white beard. Flight Lieutenant Hazlett asked me to pick up Stan. His son is staying with Flight and invited Stan. I think he’d like to get us all together before Stan and his boy go back. Terry Carton is also joining us. So keep your eye out for him.”

“Why do I feel you’re leaving something out?”

“It’s just one of your famous premonitions.”

***

Terry Carton arrived about three hours later. Gibson drove him to the constabulary. Carton followed Gibson

inside and brought him directly to Hazlett’s office. It was warm day and Hazlett had a small fan on his desk that kept whirring. Connor came in with three mugs of iced tea.

“I think Alf is wondering what’s going on,” said Carton. “He asked me why I was coming. I told him the Flight wanted all of us to get together for a weekend.”

Connor added another chair to Hazlett’s office when Stan Fortune arrived and brought in four mugs of tea. He knew the Inspector liked to drink tea with his visitors. The sun filled the room from the side window as they sat in front of Hazlett’s desk.

“Now that you’re all here, we need to help Stan and his son and put some pretty nasty criminals behind bars. We’ll start by having Stan’s son tell you what it’s all about. And then Stan can tell you about his latest experience with this group.”

“I have a question,” said Carton. “How can we deal with them sitting in Gladstonbury?”

“I left word that we had gone to Gladstonbury to visit friends and would be back at the end of the month,” said Stan.

“So we can expect to see them here,” said Gibson, wondering why Stan had done this. But they had solved tougher things than a group of thugs than had never survived bombing missions with their plane on fire.

“We will be on the lookout for them,” said Hazlett. In the meantime, Stan and his son will be staying with me. At least one of you should be with them in my absence. And be sure to carry a weapon with you at all times.”

“Terry will be staying with June and me,” said Gibson. “I’ll ask Alf to keep his eye out for any strangers and to let me know. Terry and I will track them down and keep tabs on them. If they try to see Stan and his son, Les and I will call for help and keep them occupied until help

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arrives.”

“And June would like you all to join us for supper this evening,” said Gibson.

It was a night of remembering. Alf had joined us and made a confession. “ On our last flight, my gun jammed and wouldn’t work. I didn’t tell you then because I didn’t want to scare you. And when we landed, I decided to keep it to myself until an appropriate time.” ***

Peter Carrick straightened himself and leaned towards Archie Ridley. “I made no secret of it. I told Thorton I would kill him, but someone beat me to it. He robbed me of a cabinet post that was meant for me. I had waited for this for more than a decade.”

They were sitting in the parlour of Carrick’s home. His wife had made tea and offered Archie a cup. The parlour had a Victorian aura, with its dark curtains, the picture of Victoria on the wall with old wallpaper with gold coloured crowns and a dark red background. The table lamps were hung with glass beads and dark shades. The varnished hardwood floor gleamed in the sunlight. Lorna Carrick was a demanding housekeeper who watched how her servant cleaned each room. She had just scooped out the grey ashes from the fireplace and put them in the ashcan at the back of the house. She returned with a plate of cakes and did her best to smile, pushing back the auburn hair from the side of her face with her left hand. She noticed that Archie had eaten both cakes and asked him if he would like another. She left quietly, and Archie turned to Carrick.

“I don’t believe the tale that he was scared to death by a ghost. I don’t believe in ghosts any more than you do. I don’t think I’m the only person who rubbed him the wrong way.”

Archie lit a cigarette. “In that case, do you know of anyone else who might have wanted him dead?”

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“Do you think you will be appointed as the new minister now that Thorton is dead?”

Carrick shook his head. “I made too big of a stink about Thorton’s appointment for the PM to trust me, although he did offer to appoint me as head of a royal commission the government is considering.”

“What was your impression?” Hazlett asked Archie when he returned.

“He makes no bones about threatening Thorton. But he denies killing or helping someone else kill Thorton. I was inclined to believe him, but I’ve been fooled before. I now plan to talk to everyone who knew Thorton. It may turn up something.”

“That leaves his old girlfriend, and I’ve assigned June to interview her. Let’s see what she finds out first.”

***

Pip took Ashley under his wing. He had a way with young people and knew what made them tick. They drove around town and even paid a visit to Belinda’s old hangout. Ashley looked at some of the visitors, who were dosing off in the corner. “They’re not in a good place. None of them. I understand the PM’s daughter is a regular visitor.”

“If you were going to hide out, where would you go?” Ashley said suddenly.

“I’d find an old deserted farmhouse just off the Old Milton Road. We can take a drive up if you’d like to see,” he said, turning onto a road that would take them to the Old Milton Road. A few minutes later, they stopped at an old farmhouse with a barn that looked as though it was ready to fall at any time. They opened the back door and walked through the kitchen and into the parlour, wiping away the cobwebs as they moved from room to room.

“Criminals come here, thinking no one will find them here,” added Pip, turning to go back to the car. He looked at Ashley and could see that his mind was digest-

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ing what he had told him.

Pip decided to take him to see the Craddocks. He turned his car onto a dirt road and doubled back, reaching the Craddocks’ farm a few minutes later. Michael Sullivan was cutting wood in the yard and leaned on his axe when he saw Pip emerge from his car with a teenager in tow. “Ashley, this is my friend, Michael Sullivan, a former drug addict. Michael, this is the son of a friend of the Inspector. He’s in trouble with a criminal gang who are threatening to kill his father if he doesn’t come up with a wad of money.”

Michael extended his hand. “You’re in good hands, Ashley. The Inpector is the best. OIf anyone can help you, it’s the Inspector and his gang.”

Roy Craddock came out of the back door. “And who might this be?”

“The son of one of the Inspector’s friends,” said Pip. “Then come in. Emma will be glad to see you, Pip, and the Inspector’s friend as well.”

***

June rapped on Faith’s home. There was no answer, and she rapped again. Still no answer. She had just turned to leave when she heard a voice behind her. A young woman, wiping the side of her face with a gloved hand, leaned on the rake in her hands. “How may I help you?”

June introduced herself and asked if she could talk to her about Thorton.

“Come inside. I’m finished with my raking any way, and I think a cup of tea would do us both a world of good.” She led June into the parlour. It was not large but comfortable. There were large pictures of her grandparents, who had died ten years ago. An Indian rug covered the floor, and the lace curtains shivered in a cool breeze from the field opposite her home. There was also a picture of Thorton on the end table next to her floral-cov-

ered sofa.

“I see you have a picture of Mr. Thorton on our end table. I want to talk to you about him if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. In fact, it makes me feel close to Alex when I talk about him. Did you know that he dumped me after going out with me for almost five years? Everyone expected us to marry, and it hit me very hard. The last time I saw him, I made some threats and wished him bad luck. Once I had time to think things over, I felt bad about it and stopped by the Manor to congratulate him on becoming a cabinet minister. I was always proud of him. But I felt that politics had changed him into someone I had never known. It wasn’t him. It was what politics did to him.”

Faith broke into tears. June went to her side and held her until she stopped sobbing. “I’m sorry,” said Faith. “I’m having a hard time dealing with his death. While he was alive, there was always the prospect we would be together again.”

June was of two minds when she left Faith and headed back to the station. “That’s exactly what I felt when I left her. And I still do. I’m not sure whether she was an accomplished actor who had practised how to respond to our questioning or genuine love for Thorton and prepared to stand by him until the end. There is no doubt, she loved the man.”

Archie, who sat in for June’s session, shook his head in disgust. “All we have left are two people who freely admit that they threatened Thorton but had nothing to do with his murder.”

“So that leaves us with the uncomfortable conclusion that either one of them is lying or it was someone else who murdered him. Hazlett glanced at the picture of his first Lancaster crew when things were at their darkest. It was a constant reminder never to give up. “Find out who all his friends were. Perhaps they might be able

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to suggest someone else had it in for him.”

Archie nodded. “I’ll start with his secretary and then visit his old girlfriend. They would know about all the people he knew and how they felt about him.”

“You don’t seem so sure,” said Hazlett, who caught the look in June’s eyes.

“I keep feeling that somehow Belinda is involved in this somehow. By that, I don’t believe she killed him but probably knows who did. I’ll let her stew for a couple of days and go and see how she is feeling as a woman to another woman.”

“In the meantime, I’d like you to revisit Thorton’s secretary. She may have information that she does not feel is important to our investigation. I can’t believe a guy like this just didn’t sit in his chair or twiddled his thumbs all day, even if he were in the job for just a few days.”

He called the Chief Inspector to bring him up to date and was offered the Chief Inspector’s best investigator.

“Let me handle it for the moment. My people are now investigating other leads. We have the feeling the PM’s daughter is somehow mixed up in all this.”

“Not as a suspect, surely.”

“Probably not, but we will find out one way or another before the week is out.”

It was time to leave, and he grabbed the folder Archie had given him and the scrap that had been torn from it. He examined it carefully, wondering if it were a clue of some kind. He passed it along to Gibson, his old navigator, to see if he could come up with a reason.

Margaret Gillmore was just cleaning up before she left for the day, wondering if she would still have her job when June arrived.

“I’m glad to catch you. We have a few more questions, if you don’t mind.”

Margaret took off her sweater and sat down. “Will

it take long? My mother gets upset when I don’t come home on time.”

“We realize he was only on the job for a few days. Did he transact any business during this time?”

“He sent a letter to a company that had a fat contract with the department for over a million pounds. In the letter, he told them they had to cut their bid in half and provide the same level of service, or their contract would not be renewed. This company, by the way, had supported his opponent in the election.”

“How did they respond?”

“They wrote back saying they would like to discuss this with him face to face, that there were things they provided he may not be aware of.”

“What did he say to that?”

“He agreed to meet them but would be deciding on the contact in two days. I have a copy of all the letters and a written copy of their telephone discussions. I could provide you with them in the morning. But I really must be going.”

June nodded and thanked her. She called Hazlett at his home with the information. “Tell her we need all written copies of telephone conversations.”

“I gather there may be more she hasn’t told me about.”

Hazlett replaced the receiver and smiled for the first time in days. He put Stan and his son in the spare room and asked him his opinion of the torn scrap of paper.

“Maybe it’s a clue to the person who killed him,” said Ashley.

Stan smiled, and so did Hazlett. “That was our first conclusion, but it didn’t hold up. It was just a pix of flowers from the PM’s garden. We checked the other side, and it was just a paragraph written by the deputy minister as an update about Thorton’s department.”

He was awakened by Ashley. “There’s a call for you,

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Inspector. The person sounded agitated.”

Hazlett got out of bed and put on his robe, and followed Ashley down the stairs. He picked up the receiver. It was Marshall, the PM’s chief of staff. “Sorry to disturb you, Inspector, but the PM is on my tail about your investigation. He’s not happy with your progress and is threatening to call London to send out an experienced detective to take charge.”

“It doesn’t matter who he brings in. That person can only talk to the people we’ve talked to.”

***

“I know, I know. But Belinda is in danger of losing her mind, and that’s all he cares about at present.”

Hazlett returned the receiver slowly and looked out the window. Sparrows were hopping on the grass, and he decided to spend a few minutes at the bandstand and feed the birds there. He needed to clear his head and not let Marshall’s call veer him off course.

He washed and shaved and got ready. Stan was already in the kitchen, boiling eggs and making toast for him. They talked about the old days that seemed almost magic now. “Call me if you hear from anyone from the gang and alert the policeman outside your door.”

“Will do, Flight.”

He decided to walk to the bandstand to clear his head and think about what they knew so far and if there were some connection they had missed. He sat on the park bench and threw a handful of seeds on the park pavement around him. A minute later, the pigeons were pecking at the seeds. He threw another handful when he saw a shadow behind him. He looked back. It was Belinda.

“I heard you liked the feed the pigeons from June and thought I might find you here. I can’t sleep. Things keep going around in my head, and I thought I should

talk to you about them before I forget them.”

“I keep seeing a man with a clenched fist and waving it at Alex. It was at the front door of the Manor.” She looked away at the pigeons walking in the water at the base of the bandstand. “I’m not sure I dreamed it, or I saw it when I returned to the Manor. The other man was yelling at Alex and shouting. I keep hearing the words, you won’t live long enough to make it happen.”

Hazlett didn’t respond immediately. He took her hand and gave her some seeds to feed to the birds. She smiled as she sprinkled the seeds around her and seeing the birds peck one seed after another. When the seeds were gone, they looked up at her. There was a childish look on her face. “No wonder you come here to do this.”

“You asked if I thought you saw this. I believe you did.”

“Then why didn’t I remember it?”

“Because you associated it with Mr. Thorton’s death. You blamed yourself for not being there for him and prevent his death somehow.”

Chapter Six

Connor watched them enter and head for his office. “A word, Inspector,” he said before Hazlett and Belinda disappeared inside. There’s an urgent call. The PM’s chief of staff.”

“I”ll take the call inside. I think Belinda and I could do with a tea when you have time.” He picked up the receiver. “It’s Dermot, Inspector. We woke this morning to find Belinda missing.”

“She’s sitting in front of me and in good hands. We will make sure someone drives her back.”

“Why is she there?” Marshall suddenly sounded guarded.

“She knew we wanted to interview her and decided to beat us to the punch. Right now, she’s chatting with Detective Pip and laughing.”

“Thank you, Inspector. I’d rather you not mention to them that I called.”

Connor came in with tea and June and Belinda behind him. June sat beside her and reached out for her hand.

“Belinda remembers something that we need to know. It should go no further to anyone else at the moment. You tell them, Belinda.”

Belinda tried to smile and ended up crying. June put her arm around her. “I saw a man shaking his fist at Alex and telling him, you won’t live long enough to make it happen.”

THE DOOR

“Did you recognize the man?” said June.

Belinda shook her head and started to cry again. “If I had only spent the night with him I had planned, he wouldn’t be dead now.”

“Perhaps,” said Archie, who had joined them unnoticed, “Unless it was a stranger, Margaret Gillmore would know. She handled all his appointments.” He was about to leave when Hazlett told him to keep what Belinda had told them secret for the time being.

***

Margaret was just opening the office door when Archie arrived. “The Inspector would appreciate it if you could provide us with a list of all the people who called or who were in touch with him in any other way since you opened the constituency office?”

Margaret smiled and nodded. “It’s nice to see you again, detective. We were wondering how you were proceeding with your investigation. We don’t see much in the newspaper. But let’s have tea first.”

They chatted about Thorton when she went through her file of papers and telephone notes and calls.”There were quite a few letters, even telegrams from Mr. Enoch Burgess, who was trying to have his contract renewed. She passed one of the letters Thorton had sent him two days before he was murdered. “You’ll note Mr. Thorton told him he was seeking other bids, and should his company be chosen, it would be half of the 100,000 pound contract he had previously. His company supplies printed materials, passports, visas and crime prevention, including imaging products for police stations and several other products.”

She used her finger to draw his attention to a comment from Thorton, “this guy has a lot of gall to expect help from me after supporting my opponent in the election.”

JIM CARR

“I think that note was meant for me,” said Margaret. Archie wrote down Burgess’s name, telephone number and address, while she passed him another.”It’s from a former girlfriend, asking for his help in finding a government job.”

Archie scanned the letter. At the bottom, there was a note to “help her to find something.”

“He was also working on a private member’s bill to regulate the fees charged by TV cable companies. He thought they were much too high and felt they might be lowered with more competition. The cable companies got wind of it and were meeting with their MPs to see that his bill never reached the floor of Parliament. Here are the names of two company presidents who approached him the same day he was made secretary of state.”

Archie smiled at her. “If you come across something else, I would appreciate it if you would let me know.” He passed her his card. “Call me any time.”

Back at the station, June returned from lunch with Belinda and Pip, who volunteered to drive her back home. Hazlett agreed and asked Pip to see him before he left.

“Archie came back with new leads for us to follow up on, thanks to Belinda. Should she suddenly remember something else, write it down, no matter how silly it may sound.”

Pip tipped his hat to Hazlett and grabbed Belinda’s arm. “I’ve been deligated to take you back home. I hope you don’t mind.”

Belinda smiled at him and took his arm as they left the station. “The Inspector is a very wise man. How long have you been working with him?”

“Ever since I graduated. He’s taught me a lot.”

“I’ve felt a lot better after talking to him.” Then, after a pause, “I was ready to kill myself before I saw him this morning.”

“You’re a hard man to reach, Mr. Burgess,” said Archie.

“What is this about, detective. I have a board meeting in ten minutes.” Burgess’s voice had a gravely sound that made him difficult to understand on the phone.

“It’s about Alex Thorton, the new minister. He was murdered the night you visited him.”

“Stop right there. I have never met the new minister. I heard he had died but was unaware he had been murdered.”

“Can you verify where you were a night ago?”

“Let me say one more time before I call my solicitor, I have never met the man or had any dealings with him.”

“That’s not quite true, Mr. Burgess. I am holding a letter you sent to him about the renewal of your contract and a copy of his reply to you.”

Then after a long pause. “What do you want to know?”

“I’d like an answer to my previous question. Where were you a night ago.”

“I walk every night for at least 90 minutes. I walk on the trail behind my home.”

“When was that.?”

“From seven o’clock to eight-thirty.”

“That s not quite true either, Mr. Burgess, is it? We have a witness that saw you shake our fist at Mr. Thorton and threaten him about your contract.”

Burgess didn’t respond. “We would like you to visit our constabulary tomorrow morning to talk with us in person.”

“I can’t tomorrow morning. I have a meeting with a very important client.”

“Unless you want us to come and question you in front of your client, we’ll expect you at nine o’clock.” Archie hung up and nodded at Hazlett, who had listened

on another line.

Alf Harris and Stan were talking about the mission near the end of the war when their starboard engine caught fire over Berlin. Hazlett remembered the story and tried to laugh with them. “It was a good lesson about not giving up, and that applies to the situation we now face with this group of thugs. We have to be smarter than they are and not give up if things go against us.”

“Haven’t heard anything yet, but I’m sure we will.”

That night Ashley failed to come home. He had met a young woman and stayed with her that night. When he appeared in the morning, everyone was relieved and upset.

“Don’t ever do this again,” Stan said to Ashley. “We were out of our wits with worry. We feared the crooks had found you and were holding you for ransom or just killing you for leaving town.”

“We can’t protect you if we don’t know where you are,” said Hazlett.

“I was with Pip.”

“Pip doesn’t know anything about this gang. And I want it kept that way until we hear or see these people and get ready for them.”

Burgess called him shortly after nine o’clock. “Sorry to bow out at the last minute, but I’m meeting with my MP at that time. But I will tell you everything I know right now.”

“We must tell you before you start, Mr. Burgess, that you are a suspect in our investigation. We have a witness of you threatening the victim and finding Mr. Thorton dead the following morning.”

“What time was Mr. Thorton murdered?”

“Our medical examiner thinks he was murdered

around midnight, perhaps an hour or two earlier.”

“I was at home in bed with my wife at that time. My wife is a light sleeper and would have known if I had awakened in the middle of the night and did not find me there.”

“We would like to see you in person before the end of the week.”

Hazlett called Mason Culver an hour earlier. “Mason, is there a way to kill someone and make it seem the dead person died two or three hours later?”

“It is possible, Winton, but there are variables that could skew that. It’s not an exact science.”

Hazlett returned to the small room where they questioned suspects on the other side of Connor’s desk. “We’re not going to hold you but do not make any attempts to leave until our investigations have been completed.”

Archie joined Hazlett after he finished talking on the phone to Burgess. “What does your famous gut tell you, Archie?”

“That he’s guilty, maybe not about murdering Thorton, but guilty of something. I think an investigation of his personal and business activities might turn up something.”

“Get June to see what she comes up with. In the meantime, call in the cable people and hear what they have to say. You mentioned earlier that two companies were trying to meet him. Find out the names and ask them to join us.”

Later that day, Robert Jackson and Albert Wall came in the same car and presented themselves to Connor, who alerted Hazlett and Archie.

“We’d like to interview you separately,” said Archie. “Who wants to be first?”

They looked at each other and smiled. Jackson raised his arm and marched off with Archie to Hazlett’s office.

JIM CARR

He sat down and looked at the picture of Hazlett’s first crew. “I see you were also in the RAF. Our plane was shot down, and I spent almost two years in a POW camp in Germany.”

Hazlett nodded.“It must have been an ordeal.”He looked at the letter Jackson had written to Thorton before speaking.”I gather from your letter to Mr. Thorton, you were apprehensive about Mr. Thorton’s pending private member’s bill.”

“You could say that. Mr. Thorton had no idea of the costs incurred to bring in specialty channels for our subscribers or the cost of first-class technical service. We tried to explain it all to him, but he would have none of it.”

Jackson wore a blazer with three gold buttons, a white shirt and a light blue tie. His black hair looked dyed, and he had a small black mustache.

“I appreciate that, Mr. Jackson. But I must ask, for the record, where were you a night ago?”

“A night ago. Thorton died the next morning. I was at home for my daughter’s birthday. She’s 18 now –“

“We will check that and know if you were a home that night before you leave here.”

Hazlett left to get Connor to call Jackson’s home and check on his alibi.”

Connor returned with a small piece of paper. “Talk to one of the servants, who said Mr. Jackson was out that night, celebrating one of his friend’s birthday.”

He put the paper in his pocket. “It would appear you are trying to deceive me, Mr. Jackson. Our sources tell us you were out that night.”

Jackson hung his head. “I was with someone I do not wish to name.”

“That will be all for the moment, Mr. Jackson,” said Hazlett. “Please ask Mr. Wall to join me.”

“He was getting ready to leave when Geoffrey Jar-

vis, the solicitor, called. “Just to let you know, Inspector. Mr. Thorton has a will, and it will be read a couple of days from now. Should you wish to attend. The reading will be at my office.

Chapter Seven

Ashley’s hand shook as he listened to the familiar voice on the Inspector’s phone. It belonged to a big hulk of a man who enjoyed clearing a table of dishes with one swipe of his arm and had a reputation of someone who enjoyed hurting people. He was the gang’s enforcer. ”We have some unfinished business. We know where you are and that your father is with you. But that won’t stop us from cutting his legs off. Meet us this afternoon at the Old Ale House. And don’t tell anyone else. If you do, we’ll make sure you never live another day. And don’t forget the money.”

He debated telling his father and the Inspector and wasn’t sure he would risk it when the phone rang. It was Hazlett. The man must have a sixth sense, he thought. “Have you heard yet from these people? I’m sure they must know where you are now.”

“Yes. I just hung up on them. They want me to come to the Old Ale House and threaten to kill my father if I don’t show up. What should I do?”

“Listen to me carefully. Go and see what they want. I’ll send Pip to the pub. He will be there and will be inside before you arrive should you need his help. Play for time. If they ask for the money, tell them you will get the

money and take it to them. Make sure you know where we can find them.”

Ashley made his way to the Old Ale House, just off Brunswick, near an old church that needed repair. It was built close to the railway tracks, and he looked around for a place to run to if they decided to get rough. A few minutes later, two gang members came out of the church and entered the Old Ale House. The old fear crept up his spine, and he felt like running and never looking back. Perhaps if he hid in one of the old farm houses Pip had shown him. He needed to feel safe in a place of peace, where no one could find him. They knew he was staying with the Police Inspector. It didn’t seem to bother them. They were even more daring than he remembered, and he also knew what they could do to him. He had to tell them something to give him time and find out where they were hiding.

He walked towards the tavern. One of them emerged and ran up to him. “They’re waiting for you.”

When his eyes got used to the semi-darkness, he could see that the gang leader wasn’t there. Just the enforcer and two of his henchmen. He glanced around to see Pip sitting at a nearby table.

The enforcer didn’t waste any time. He grabbed Ashley by his throat and smashed his face with his fist, knocking out one of Ashley’s side teeth. Ashley rolled it on his tongue and used a napkin from the table to wipe his mouth from the blood. He felt sick to his stomach and weanted to run as fast as he could away from them. “I can knock out another if you don’t listen to me carefully and do exactly what I say.” He drew back his fist and held his throat with his other hand.

Ashley managed to struggle free and nodded. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“We want 10,000 pounds in small bills. I don’t care how you get it, but get it and bring it to us, either here or

someplace quieter. And don’t think about getting your police friend involved. We will know if you do, and we’ll make a point of killing both you and your father. It will be a good lesson for anyone else trying to weasel out on us.”

“Now repeat back to me what I want you to do.”

Ashley was shivering as he repeated the instructions. “How will I know where to take the money?”

“We’ll call in exactly one week and let you know. Be sure you have the money when we call. “ The enforcer hit his back and left with his two companions with smiles on their faces. Ashley glanced at Pip, who looked the other way. He rose and left, looking back to see if they were following him. He rounded the corner and waited for Pip to leave, and walked slowly back. Pip was very smart. They probably had another person there to make sure he had not brought someone with him.

He reached the Inspector’s house and glanced around to see if they had followed him. His father had seen him coming and opened the door and pulled him inside. A constable from Hazlett’s offices sat in the chair opposite the sofa.

“We want them to think that we’ve pulled away from guarding you,” said Tommy Thomas, one of Pip’s constable friends. “What was Pip’s reaction?”

Ashley was still shivering. “He didn’t acknowledge me in any way. He sat at a table near to us and probably heard everything they said.”

“You can bet he made a lot of notes when you left.”

Ashley sat down beside his father. “They’ve upped the ante. Then now demand 10,000 pounds. There’s no way in Heaven we can come up with that kind of money in a week.” He held his head in his hands. “I’ve ruined everything. For you and me. I’m sorry.”

“The Inspector is a pretty sharp guy. He’s come up with solutions for tougher things than this.”

JIM CARR

“I feel like running away and hiding out in one of those old farm houses Pip showed me yesterday.”

“I see you’ve lost a tooth,” said his father. Ashley reached into this pocket and pulled out a wad of paper, and showed it to them. He rose and went into the bathroom to rinse his mouth. He opened the door to see Hazlett enter.

“I gather it didn’t go well,” said Hazlett as Ashley produced his tooth. “This was to remind me worse will happen if I don’t come up with the money. They now want 10,000 pounds, not the original 7,200 pounds I owed them.”

“I have an old school friend who now is a dentist. Let me call and see what he says about getting it back in your mouth.” Hazlett left and came back three minutes later. “It’s a good thing you kept the tooth. My dentist friend tells me there is a very slim chance it might be saved. Tommy will use my car to take you there.”

***

Hazlett pulled June, Pip, Connor and Archie into his office when he returned to the station. “The gang that’s been hounding my friend’s son for his gambling debt. If he fails to raise the amount he owes, they’ll kill him and his father, my friend. I had Pip arrive at the pub before young Ashley Fortune arrived.”

“I arrived before three members of the gang came in and sat at a table near me. I could hear everything that was said. They talked in loud voices and didn’t seem to care who was listening. One of them, a big, burly man with ham-sized hands, smashed Ashley across the side of his face for openers. He gave Ashley a week to pay them 10,000 pounds. If he didn’t, he would come after them and take it out of their hides. I waited until everyone left in case they left someone who kept watch on everyone who came in and left.”

“Do we know where they are?” said Archie.

“They told Ashley they would call and tell him where to bring the money. They want it all in small bills.”

They turned to Hazlett. “We need to know where they want him to bring the money. Hopefully, it will be at a place where we can surround them unnoticed. In the meantime, I’ll see about raising the money.”

When they left, he reached for the telephone and dialled Lorne Yarrow’s number. “Lorne, it’s Winton. I’d like to see you this afternoon if you have time.”

Yarrow was on the banking floor when Hazlett arrived and led him down the hall and up a flight of stairs to his office. Lorne poured him a shot of whiskey and one for himself. They were sitting on the sofa in front of his desk and toasted each other’s success. “Now, how can I help you?

“The son of a member of my Lancaster crew has got himself into trouble with a bad gang, who threaten to kill him and his father if he fails to bring them 10,000 pounds in small bills. I need your help.”

“I cannot advance you the money, but I may have a solution.” He paused and poured another whiskey. “What if we made bundles of small bills. There would be ten-pound and five-pound notes on the outside and pieces of blank paper on the inside. “

“They’ll check that surely.”

“The first couple of bundles will be real notes. After they check the first couple of bundles, they’ll just stash away the others, confident that they had just been handed 10,000 pounds.”

“And just long enough for my constables to surround them and for Ashley to leave them. We want all of them behind bars before nightfall.”

“How are you feeling these days, Winton? It’s been

JIM CARR

four years since Alma died.”

“It’s hard some days. I think of Alma every time I come home and see the plates she collected from places we visited and hung on the back wall. Seeing the plates brings me back to holidays we had together.”

Yarrow patted his shoulder. “I’ll have those bundles prepared for you and ready for pick up two days from now.”

“It’s going to take precise timing if we hope to save Ashley,” said Archie. “If they get wind of this beforehand somehow, he’ll be toast.”

“Do you intend to tell Ashley or his father?” said June.

Hazlett shook his head. “Ashley and his father have got to believe they will be carrying a bag containing 10,000 pound notes. Otherwise, Ashley could give the show away. The only others who will know will be Gibson and Carton. I want them in on this from the moment we leave the station. They both have been tested in tougher times than this, so let them be your guide. They will carry the money and give it to Ashley just before he meets them and go inside before the others arrived.”

“Ar we sure they will want to see Ashley a week from now? What if they want the money the day before?” said Pip.

“Tommy is staying inside. He’ll call us when Ashley leaves, and we’ll be there for Stan if they want to hold him hostage. One thing more. These are bad people, capable of killing you or me or anyone else without compunction. So no heroics.”

When Hazlett returned home, Stan was waiting for him. He was sitting on the sofa beneath Alma’s plates that sat on a think board the length of the wall. Stan was holding his head and feeling sick to his stomach. “It’s Ashley. He couldn’t stand just sitting here and doing nothing. He’s worried you will not be able to raise 10,000

pounds. I don’t know where he is.”

Hazlett called Pip. “Young Fortune has disappeared. Any ideas where he might be?”

“I took him to a deserted farm house just off Old Milton Road, and he seemed very happy there. My guess is that’s where he’s headed. Leave it to me.” ***

Pip spotted him walking along the road by himself and drove up beside him. “Hop in. I’ll take you there.”

Ashley climbed in beside him. He liked Pip. He understood how he felt and felt he could depend on Pip in a pinch. His face lit up as they turned onto a dirt road. A few minutes later, they drove up to the farm house. Ashley jumped out and walked inside, wiping away the cobwebs and sitting at the kitchen table. He looked up a Pip. “I could live here forever.”

“It could be pretty lonely out here with no TV or electricity and scared to even go to the store. Deoend on the Inspector to get you out of this mess. He’s done tougher things than this.”

They drove back an hour later. Ashley smiled all the way back.

“We’re all rooting for you. Remember that when things seem the blackest.”

Hazlett sat him down and told him he could get a loan from the bank and have the money in a couple of days. That night he slept the sleep of peace.

Chapter Eight

The call came a day before they expected it. Ashley shivered at the sound of the enforcer’s voice, and he instinctively touched the side of his face.

“On the other side of the tracks, there is an old storage shed. We will be waiting for you there. Come alone. If you don’t, we will hunt you down, and you will wish you were dead before we’re through. We will expect you at seven o’clock tonight.”

Tommy Thomas called the Inspector and returned to Ashley, whose hands were shaking, and his face looked as though he was about to cry. Tommy put his arm around him. “Don’t worry. The Inspector will see that they never bother you ever again.”

Hazlett had a helicopter hover over the site and take pictures. He called his team together and showed them the pictures.

“They can see anyone coming in every direction. How can we get close to them without being seen?” said June.

“Some of you will be dressed in overalls and be carrying wrenches which might come in handy should they try to escape or try to fight their way out. There will also be a helicopter overhead with a spotlight to follow anyone trying to disappear. We need to get everyone, especially the leader. Ashley will be able to point him out.”

THE DOOR

Tommy Thomas and Stan watched Ashley leave. Tommy wanted to make sure Ashley wasn’t followed. A tall man with long legs walked hurriedly after Ashley and followed him to the railway tracks, where he was grabbed by Gibson and taken inside.

“This bag contains 10,000 pound notes in small dominations, just as they ordered. Before you give it to them, make sure you give it to the leader. Let them see the money and have his promise to leave you and your father alone. Then go, and as soon as you see us surrounding the shed, run like hell. Tommy and your father will be waiting for you. Now go.”

He pushed him into the open and watched him walk to the shed. A tall, muscular man emerged and opened the door for him. “We’be been expecting you. You’re late, and the boss doesn’t like to be kept waiting for anyone, including the Queen.” He shoved Ashley inside with a hard push. He almost stumbled and as he tried to get his footing.

Two big hands grabbed him before he fell and turned him to face a middle-aged man wearing a charcoal grey suit with a crisp white shirt and a red-striped tie. He was beating his right knee with a riding crop and whispering to a younger woman sitting next to him, nursing her baby. Four other members of his gang sat apart, ready to attack anyone who dared to touch him. He smiled at the woman and touched the baby’s face with the back of his hand.

Then, turning to Ashley, “you’ve given us a lot of trouble getting the money you owe us.”He looked at the bag at Ashley’s feet. “Is that it?”

Ashley nodded, trying not to show how nervous he was. He bent and placed it in the boss’s lap, who unzipped the bag and flicked through the first two bundles with practised hands. He nodded and closed the bag before nodding to one of his henchmen. “Look outside and

JIM CARR

see if the coast is clear.”

The henchman, a short man with dark fuzz on his face, opened the door and looked around.

“Just some men working on the tracks. They didn’t even look at me.” He closed the door, and the boss nodded to a second man, wearing a brown trenchcoat and a soft hat at the back of his head. He took off his hat and looked outside through cracks in the wall of the building. “There are workmen behind us as well.”

The boss nodded to the henchman closest to him, who rose and whacked Ashley’s knees with a long hardwood stick. The boss looked at Ashley. “If this is a setup, you’ll never tell the tale.”

At that moment, the door burst open. Hazlett, with Archie and a dozen constables behind him, walked into the shed. He motioned for Ashley to leave. Ashley stood as if nailed to the floor. Everything was changing too fast now that he could not react in any way. The woman who accompanied the leaderr withdrew her hand from the blanket and threw a small round object on the floor. Smoke suddenly filled the shed and let off sounds of gunshots.

The boss and the woman emerged from the smoke and shouted that the Inspector was in danger of his life. They kept shouting it to everyone they saw until they disappeared beyond the tracks.

“It’s not over yet,” said Hazlett to Ashley. “There will be blood spent before this is over. Once they see that they’ve been duped about the money, they won’t stop until they get it or take it out of your hide.”

They were doing a review of the operation in Hazlett’s office. “He won’t stop until he gets what he wants or a new opportunity for 10,00 pounds beckons him elsewhere.”

THE DOOR

‘What about his henchmen?” said Archie.

“For a man like this, they’re collateral damage. He will recruit others in short order. But for us, his henchmen will be a gold mine of information. Archie, you and June, as well as Gibson and Carleton talk to them and find out all you can.”

“What do you think he will do next?” said Archie.

“He won’t leave here until he gets his pound of flesh, only now each of us will be part of his get-even plan.”

***

The boss liked making up names. No one really knew where he came from or what his real name was. He talked with a variety of accents. Many of his dupes could swear he spoke with an Oxford accent. He started as a con man but quickly learned there was more money in crooked gambling. He shone at it. He acquired a crew of gunmen to protect him from losers who shouted to all their friends he was a card shark.

But this was different. It involved a policeman, an inspector, that could make him a target if he were suddenly found dead. Some of his henchmen would spill their guts out to the coppers. It was part of the risk. Jennifer, his woman, was the only one he could trust.

“We need to move. To another part of town and we need to do it today. Look in the paper and see what’s available, then go to the place, check it out and pay the first month’s rent in advance. We’ll be gone by then.”

Jennifer returned three hours later smiling, announcing that she had rented a house near the main road out of town. They packed and were gone within the hour, going through town to the main road, stopping in front of a small two-storey house, with a small flower garden in front.

That night he slept soundly. No one knew where he was, and he had left no trail of where he had gone to. In

JIM CARR

the morning, he sat at the kitchen table and read The Observer. There was nothing in that paper about the police raid or anything else. He let his breath out slowly. He would kill the Inspector at the end. He knew he could not try to get the 10,000 pounds without the police finding out where he was living and the risk of being nabbed by the police.

That morning he walked down the street and knocked at the door of the home of the vicar. a middle-aged man with greying hair, a zest of living and goodwill led him into his office. “Are you new to the parish?” said the vicar.

“Not really. I’ve been ill for a few months, and my wife recently had a baby.”

“I gather then, you would like to have your child baptized?”

“That would be wonderful, vicar.”

“What is your name, and when would you like to do it. Do we have the names of the sponsors?”

“Not yet, vicar. But we shall.”

The vicar was part of his plan he put it in motion. He walked back to his house with a smile and a spring in his step.

Jennifer was relieved to see him look so happy. “I met with the vicar today and made arrangements to have her baptized. I want to call her after my mother. Her name was Pamela. What do you think?”

“Fine by me. We will need a godmother. The lady who helped you give birth to our child at the hospital, call and ask her if she would like to be her grandmother. We can use the last name we used at her birth.”

He needed to think through how he would kill the Inspector and his people with the Vicar as an unknowing accomplice. But for now, he would let things take their course and become a distant memory in the minds of the police.

“What did you find out, Archie?”

“First, we’re dealing with a strange but very intelligent bird who is consumed with revenge. They’re all petrified about talking to us because they’re scared of what he’ll do to them.”

“Second, he’s the brooding type and is probably planning his revenge on us as we speak. We’ve sent a bulletin to city hall and other officials to watch for him and his lady friend. They make quite a pair and are alike in many ways. They plan for every emergency and always have an escape plan if needed, as we saw.”

“Keep talking to them and sound as though you’re their a friend. We also need a drawing of this worthy gentlemen. Perhaps one of them would guide an artist in drawing a picture of him. We have no photos of him, as you know.” Then, after a pause, “June and Gibson might be able to tell us more about the woman.”

Ashley had gone back to his home, shaking and feeling that there was no end to it. Stan had called him, wondering what he should do next. Both he and his son thought that the boss knew where they were and was biding his time before he killed them. “We need a place to go where he would not think of,” said Stan with uneasiness in his voice.

Hazlett reached for his telephone and called the Craddocks. He asked for Michael Sullivan first. Michael would understand better than the Craddocks. “Michael, it’s Winton Hazlett. I need you to talk to Roy about putting up the young man you met with Pip and his father from a gang of crooks. One of them was a member of my Lancaster crew. See what Roy thinks. It will also be good for Stan and his son to get their hands dirty for a while. I’ll be at home. Call me there tonight.”

Roy Craddock called a few minutes later. Hazlett ex-

plained to Roy that a group of thugs was hounding the son of one of his crew members and threatened to torture and kill them. “We captured the leader’s henchmen, but he escaped with a young woman and a baby in her arms when we thought we had them. This is a vicious killer without a conscience and would kill you if he thought he got in way of his revenge. My friend and his son are staying with me, but they feel the leader knows this and is biding his time until he kills them. He had no idea who you are or where you live. Can you help them?”

Hazlett could hear Roy tell his wife before he returned. “Tell them to come out tomorrow before daybreak. Michael will be up and get them squared away.”

When he told Stan later, his son was relieved and started talking about how Pip had taken him to one of the farm houses.

Carton came by later in the afternoon. “Gibson and I had a chat about your prisoners. They reminded us of the faces of German prisoners who had surrendered, a look of giving up hope that the war would go on.”

Hazlett sat back. “If he had been smart, the leader would leave Gladstonbury, but for this bird, he would end it only his way. Sooner or later, Hazlett thought, he would make a mistake. All he had to do was wait.

Chapter Nine

June called before Hazlett left for the station. There was anxiety in her voice. “Belinda is standing on the roof of the Manor house. She doesn’t seem to know where she is. I’m concerned she may jump off.”

“I’ll be there in the next few minutes. Have Pip pick me up and keep talking to her and have her reply. Are you on the roof with her?”

“I’m outside. Belinda threatens to jump off if I try to come to the roof. Pip is on his way and should be there in a few minutes.”

“Is there a crowd there?”

“At least one hundred people and more coming by the minute. A few of them are encouraging her to jump.”

“Tell everyone to stop talking. Otherwise, the noise might cause her to jump off. You can never tell with jumpers.”

Hazlett dressed and went outside to wait for Pip, who appeared about five minutes later. They reached Somerset Manor to find a large crowd milling around the yard, straining their necks at Belinda, who had dressed in slacks. Her hair was flowing in the wind. Occasionally, she would step back and reappear.

“Keep her talking while Pip and I go to the roof.”

Betts from The Observer was there with a camera. He aimed it at the roof, but the figure was too small to cap-

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ture. “Please don’t take any pictures,” said June. “We’re having a hard enough time keeping her from jumping without scaring her even more.”

Hazlett and Pip scampered up the stairs two at a time before mounting the ladder to the roof. Belinda didn’t see them until they were only a few feet from her. Seeing them startled her, and she suddenly felt queasy and swayed. There was a roar from the crowd as her body swayed so close to the edge.

“Go away. I want to join Alex. Please leave me alone.” She started to cry. Pip outstretched his arms, but ignored him. “Alex is calling me. He came to me last night and pleaded with me to join him.”

“But you are needed by so many people,” said Pip. “I’ve been hoping to become friends with you.”

Hazlett took a step nearer her. “The pigeons crowded around me and sat on the bench beside me and made no attempt to eat the seeds on the ground. They just ate the seeds on the bench and out of my hand. I could tell they were looking around for you.”

Her eyes widened, and for the first time, she smiled. She fell forward and into Pip’s arms.

“Take her away from the edge of the roof,” said Hazlett, who helped Pip carry her to the entrance downstairs. Hazlett went down first and reached out as Pip slowly lowered her body. Her head moved from side to side as she kept murmuring. “I’m coming for you. Wait for me.”

They carried her to the main door. June had guessed what was happening and called the hospital. Hazlett went out on the doorstep and nodded. June led two hospital attendants carrying a stretcher inside and helped them put her on the stretcher and cover her face with a white sheet.

June sat in the ambulance beside her. She opened her eyes once to see June looking at her. She squeezed June’s

arm and closed her eyes. Agnes Childers had them move her to a private room as soon as they brought her inside. Hazlett chatted with her, and she kept nodding and smiling. “When she awakes,” said Agnes, she will feel a bit better. I’ll have Dr. Culver look in on her as well.”

“One thing more. Pip will be outside her door at all times, and no one will be permitted to see her except for you, myself, June, Pip and Archie.”

Agnes and Hazlett had known each other since they were children, and she knew Hazlett usually had a reason for everything.

When they returned to the station, Connor had tea ready for him. “A gentleman is waiting to see you.”

It was Dermot Marshall. He sat down and accepted a tea from Connor. “It’s Belinda. She’s disappeared.”

“I’m afraid to tell you that she’s caused quite a stir. She went up to the roof of Somerset Manor and was planning to jump off. We had a team there and were successful in talking her out of it. We’ve brought her to the hospital to recover.”

“The PM will be liable to jump off his roof once this gets out.”

“Hopefully, it will not.”

Marshall leaned forward and then, in almost a whisper, “what do you mean?”

“We had her face covered when the ambulance took her to the hospital. She is in a private room, with one of my detectives standing guard outside. You or the prime minister would be recognized should you go there.”

“The what? She can’t stay there indefinitely,”

Best if Pip drives her to the PM’s summer home in his car. We will let you know when that is about to happen.”

Dermont finished his tea and went into the main room to chat with June. “What shuld I tell the PM?” he said, sitting down next to her.

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“The truth. It will come out eventually. Better he knows everything so that he can deal with it personally and publicly should he be asked about it.”

***

The PM, dressed in a black robe, was rubbing his dog’s ears when Marshall returned. “Where’s Belinda?”

“She’s in hospital. Seems she cause quite a stir earlier today by climbing to the roof of Somerset Manor and threatening to jump off. The police arrived and were able to talk her out of it and had her whisked away by ambulance to the hospital, where she is in a private room under guard. So no one knows who or where she is.”

The PM sat back. He would talk to her when she was released from the hospital. Perhaps she should pack her off to Canada or Australia until she grew up or have one of his doctor specialist friends examine her before she causes more trouble. PMs do not win elections with crazy children, he felt. His biggest mistake was having her meet Thorton, who was a pretty dull fish.

He saw Hazlett in another light. He had saved him an embarrassment and saved his daughter’s life. He made a note to invite him to one of his soirees and have a chat with him. With Thorton gone, he would call a byelection. He would talk to Marshall about him.

“There is talk in town that the PM’s daughter and Alex Thorton were lovers and planned to marry,” said Betts, who had just asked him about the woman who threatened to jump off Somerset Manor.

“I don’t follow gossip unless it involves what I’m working on,” said Hazlett. “I’m knee deep in a murder investigation. Rescuing a young woman from the roof of a tall building is quite another matter. But, regarding Mr. Thorton’s murder, I can tell you we are interviewing several suspects, but our investigation is from over.”

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Betts looked around and spotted June, who was talking to her husband. “You stopped me from taking a picture of the lady on the roof this morning. Is it someone important?”

“We do not offer the names of people who are not involved in a crime. My concern was for the person who was threatening to jump, not whether you get a picture.”

“How would you feel if you took the picture and she fell to her death?” said Gibson. “I was a navigator on a Lancaster, and it always bothered me if I killed a child with the bombs I released.”

Betts was about to leave when he wondered if the Inspector was working on something else. “Who was geezer the Inspector was talling to?”

“You’ll have to talk to the Inspector and ask him, ourself” said June.

Betts waited until a middle-aged man dressed in an expensive suit left Hazlett’s office shaking hs head as he headed out to get into his car. Betts rapped on the door to see Hazlett staring out the window. “I don’t want to go back empty-handed, Inspector. Can you give me something? I saw a former Lancaster navigator in the station talking to one of your detectives.”

“That’s Leslie Gibson. He’s married to the lady you saw.”

“That’s it?”

“Les is helping another member of our crew and his son, who are being hounded by a criminal gang. He and I are making sure it doesn’t happen. But it’s not something we’d like to share at the moment. Their lives are at stake. But what you can do is publish a copy of his face drawn by one of our people and ask anyone who has seen this man to call us and tell us where.”

Betts left whistling. He had something no one else had and looked at the drawing a fifth time, careful not to bend it. He could see it now: A murderer in Our Midst

with the sketch below it.

He picked up the paper and saw the sketch and the headline. It wasn’t a perfect likeness but close enough that people might recognize him. He also knew he had to pull up stakes again. Perhaps in the countryside away from prying eyes.

They dove up the Old Milton Road, where most of the farmers didn’t read The Observer. They spotted a farm house that looked deserted and turned into the driveway.

“Stay put. Let me see if there are people inside first.” They had packed the car with clothes. His wife held the baby and smiled at him.

He knocked on the door, and when there was no answer, he opened it and disappeared inside. He looked in all the rooms. There was no electricity, but it didn’t matter. He looked upstairs and then in the basement. No one was there and hadn’t been there in a long time, and he then to the door, waving to her to come inside.

He tried the kitchen pump, and it worked perfectly after a few pumps and left to bring in their clothes and bed covers from their car.

“We need milk for the baby,” Jennifer said. “And there’s only a bit of tea left.”

“Take the car. No one knows who you are and drive to the first farm you see and ask them to sell you some milk for the baby. And ask them where you can buy food.”

There was an elderly lady and her grandson at the first house she stopped at. “I need milk for my baby, and we’ve run out. Could we buy some from you?”

The older woman looked at her grandson, who left and returned with two large bottles of milk. Jennifer reached into her pocket, found a shilling, and passed it

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to the older woman, who shook her head.

“I cannot take money for milk for a baby.” The firm set in her wrinkled face told Jennifer not to press the matter. “We also need some food. How close is the nearest store?”

The older woman looked at her grandson and nodded again. “We just cooked a chicken. It’s too much for my grandson and me. She cut off a leg and some breast meat and put the chicken in a paper bag. “I gather you’ve just moved into the old foster home. I should tell you that the place is haunted.”

Jennifer was about to smile but thought better of it. The woman’s grandson, a 14-year-old with acne and sandy colured hair returned with potatoes, onions and carrots and added two loaves of bread to the bag. He helped her carry everything to the car and watched her until her car disappeared from sight.

He was anxious until he saw saw his wife drive into the yard and helped her bring in the food. “Did you buy out the store?”

Jennifer shook her head. I stopped at the first place I found, where an older woman and her grandson lived. They gave me everything – the milk, the chicken, the bread and all the vegetables.”

They sat down to eat on the old table in the middle of the chicken. “One thing you should know. She told me that this place is haunted.”

He smiled. “All the better. That will prevent us from having surprise guests.”

Jennifer fed the baby before eating while he lit a candle on the table. Night was closing in, and they needed to make a bed ready for them.

He watched climbing the stairs with their baby. She was a very beautiful lady and he felt lucky to have her in his life.

Chapter Ten

Hazlett smiled as Belinda sat down beside him. “I had hoped I’d find you here. I felt much better after meeting you here before. There’s something about the birds that makes you feel safe and at peace with yourself.”

He passed her a handful of seed, and she sprinkled the pavement around where she sat. “My father thinks I should thank you for what you did for me.” She looked him in the eye and kissed his cheek. “For once, my father was right.”

Hazlett laughed and gave her another handful of birdseed.

“It also sobered me up in a real hurry. And about some things I had forgotten about the night Alex died.” Hazlett let her carry on. “Alex wasn’t a great dresser. I took him to a clothing store in town and had him outfitted seven and six. He bought the suit, probably just to please me, but I never saw him wear it.” He smiled and let her talk. “It would have hurt me then, but today I’d just hug him.”

A young woman with a toddler stopped to look. It was a young boy, and he held out his arm so that the pigeons could light on his arm. Hazlett passed him some seed. “Hold out the seed so that they can see,” said Hazlett with a smile. One of the pigeons stood on Hazlett’s arm and ate the seed directly from his hand.

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When no pigeons lit on his arm, he threw the seed to the ground and started to cry. His mother grabbed his arm and led him away, turning her head to say thank you.

“I heard a man’s voice when I stood at the door that night. He was screeching. I couldn’t make out what he was saying other than his voice sent shivers up my back.”

“Did you recognize the voice?”

“It sounded vaguely familiar and then not – if you know what I mean.”

“That is very helpful. Can you tell me the time?”

“It was around nine o’clock. It was getting dark, and I got scared and ran away. In retrospect, I should have pounded on the door until someone opened it for me. Maybe that’s why I feel so guilty.”

***

Back at the station, Connor, Archie, Pip, June, and Leslie packed his office. “I had a chat with Belinda this morning. She remembered hearing someone screech inside the Manor. It was not Mr. Thorton’s voice. She was sure of that, and it was around nine o’clock,” said Hazlett, glancing at their faces.

“It also got me thinking. After talking to Belinda, I felt that we missed something. I’m not sure what. But I have a feeling in the pit of my stomach it’s something that’s staring us in the face.”

“We went through every inch of the bedroom, Inspector,” said Archie.

“What about other places in the Manor?”

June and Gibson just stared at them.

“Surely, a great navigator like Leslie Gibson would not have forgotten that.”

Gibson smiled sheepishly. He stood, “let’s get moving. Archie, you and Pip go over the bedroom again while June and I will focus on other likely areas of the Manor where they might have been.”

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They arrived at the Manor and headed in different directions, with Pip and Archie going upstairs to the master bedroom while June and her husband headed for the kitchen. Gibson spotted the dishes in the sink first. He was a head taller than his wife and whispered: “We’re in luck.”

They touched the teacups gingerly and laid them on the counter for their fingerprint expert, who lifted five fingerprints. June used her fingers to lift a spoon and then the saucers. There were matching prints on them. Next, the dining room with Belinda’s drawings and painting. June spotted a garden behind the Manor. They checked the door handle for prints and walked into the garden. She went past the flower beds still blooming red, yellow and even purple flowers and onto the glass-covered hothouse.

Gibson bent and prevented June from going further. He pointed to the dirty floor. She immediately saw the footprints of two people. One had a special heel, which showed an imprint of the British bulldog.

The fingerprint expert took pictures of the heel at different angles. June spotted what looked like a word scratched into the mud. Their expert walked to the spot where June was pointing. He unslung his camera to take pictures of the word from four angles.

June spelled out the word slowly: RAZBOJNIK. She looked up at Gibson. “What does it mean?”

Gibson wrote the word down on a pad and shook his head. They met Pip and Archie coming down the stairs smiling. “We found something that might lead us to the killer,” said Pip, unwrapping his handkerchief and showing them a Cambridge University tie pin. They returned to the station an hour later. You could see the smile on Hazlett’s face a mile away. “The tie pin is very telling.”

“It narrows down the field,” said Archie.

“Perhaps we will have a better idea where we’re going with the fingerprints. But I’m intrigued by the word you found on the floor of Thorton’s hothouse.” He kept rolling Razbojnik in his mouth over and over. Nothing clicked. “I have a friend who studied a lot of languages from our war days. I’ll pass it by him.”

Hazlett took the evening train to Cambridge, where Boris Miller, who loved to learn languages and used them to great effect during the last year of the war. He now lectured on Mid-Eastern countries. The train arrived just in time for supper. They arranged to meet at the hotel where Hazlett had booked for the night. Hazlett waited for him in the lobby, reading the evening newspaper and looking up expectedly whenever someone new entered.

“Sorry about being late. I called and asked the front desk to let you know.” Boris hadn’t changed much. His black beard was now grey, but his dark eyes and the way he cocked his head hadn’t. He had spoken so many other languages that he now spoke English with an accent himself.

They talked about the crazy times when he was in a POW camp and how he failed to escape. They laughed about some of the other prisoners. Boris became their commandant’s official translater whenever a new prisoner was added to their camp. He was able to spot two German spies posing as Czechoslovakian Spitfire pilots. Neither of them could speak Czech.

“What do you do now, Winton?”

“I am the Inspector in Gladstonbury. And it’s in this regard that we need help. We found a word at the murder scene that none of us can understand. I thought of you almost immediately.

Boris reached out and held his arm. “Print out the word, and I’ll see what I can come up with.”

Hazlett took out his pad and printed Razbojnik. Boris looked at it for almost two minutes. “I believe it is a Cro-

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atian word that means Robber.”

“Does that fit what you were thinking?”

“Not exactly, Boris. But it puts my thinking in a different direction. Thank you for this.”

***

The PM decided to let Hazlett handle the questions when Alex Thorton’s murder hit the London newspapers. At the moment, the PM was not returning calls and kept calling to find out when Hazlett would return and call him on his arrival.

Four reporters were waiting for Hazlett when Tommy Thomas dropped him at the station. They followed him inside, with flashbulbs flashing as he disappeared into this office.

When he was ready for them, he called Connor. “Send them and make sure Archie comes with them.”

“The murder of a new minister is big news,” said the reporter from The Express. “Why are we hearing about it only now?” He towered over the others and seemed to take command.

“How did you hear about it?”

“If you’re not going to talk with some real answers, why should we tell you anything. It’s a give-and-take world out there. So start spilling,” said one of the other reporters known for his exposés. He could smell a good story and knew only the tip of the iceberg at this point.

“We also understand that you’ve botched it up and that the Chief Inspector may be sending someone else to solve the murder,” said The Express reporter.

Betts from The Observer pounced on him. “There’s talk that you’re stumped and have no idea who the murderer might be.”

“Hardly.” He pointed to Archie, who had been waiting to jump in.

“We are uncovering clues almost every day. In fact,

we discovered a lot of information today in our investigations. Clues that will lead us inevitably to the murderer.”

“What about the woman on the roof? What happened to her? Is she connected with the murder? What is her name?”

There were other raised hands, which Hazlett ignored. “Sorry, that’s all I can tell you at this time. All I can say is that we do not believe she’s connected with the murder.”

Later, when Connor showed the reporters out, Carton, Gibson and Archie gathered in his office. Gibson observed: “These guys are out for blood.”

“So was flying over Berlin,” said Hazlett.

“Do you really think we can solve the murder that soon?”

“We all perform best when our backs are against the wall.” He paused and looked at Archie, who was writing in his pad. “We need a list of people Thorton knew and had dealings with, and that includes the time before he was elected an MP.”

“Does that include the PM and his crowd,” said Gibson.

“Everyone. I’ll call the PM’s chief of staff and warn him.”

“What about their education.”

“Good thinking, Les. Be sure to ask that of everyone.” He looked out the window to see three boys running past the station with an older boy behind them and smiled. “We need a likely suspect and throw the book at him.”

*** Marshall opened the door to Archie before he had a chance to knock. “We’ve been expecting you,” said Marshall. His voice was deep and commanding. He opened

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the door wider and shook Archie’s hand as he entered. They walked to Marshall’s office, just off the dining room, ordering tea for them as they entered his office. Marshall’s desk had three phones and one piece of paper on his desk. A pile of files was on a stand next to him. He had black hair and a bald spot near the top of his head that gleamed in the sunlight behind him. His eyes were quick and looked Archie over in seconds.

“Inspector Hazlett has asked us to take part in your investigations. How can we help?”

“Were any of your staff away from the PM’s summer residence on the evening of the murder?”

“I’m not sure, but I will investigate and find out. Anything else?” said Marshall.

A housemaid entered with tea and laid it on Marshall’s desk. Marshall stopped her at the door. “Mrs. Croft, can you tell me if any of the staff were away from here on the evening of June the eighth?”

“That’s a couple of days ago, but I’ll ask around and get back to you.”

“I suspect most people were here,” said Marshall. “What about you and the PM?”

“I had to go to the airport and pick up a member of the cabinet. The PM was here.”

“What time was the flight?”

“Nine thirty.”

“One last question. Where were you educated?” “Cambridge.”

“I’d like to know the name of the cabinet minister?”

Marshall smiled and took a slip of paper and wrote down the man’s name, his address and home and business number.”

Archie glanced at the paper and slipped it inside his pad. He rose and shook Marshall’s hand.”

Marshall showed him out. “Give my regards to your Inspector,” he said as he accompanied Archie to his car.

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“One thing your Inspector should know: The PM is getting awfully edgy and is wondering why the case hasn’t been solved. He’s apt to go over the Inspector’s head to get to the bottom of this and put it behind us.”

Back at the station, he called the minister at his office. The minister answered his phone.

“My name is Archie Ridley, chief detective at the Gladstonbury Constabulary. I need to talk to you about your visit to Gladstonbury?”

“May I ask what this is about?” The voice suddenly sounded hard and cold.

“The murder of one of your fellow cabinet ministers.”

“Alex Thorton. Go ahead. I’m glad to help.”

“I would like this conversation to be off the record.”Then, after a pause, Archie added, “what can you tell me about Dermot Marshall?”

“Great to work with and doesn’t waste your time. He’s all work and doesn’t understand the other demands on your time when you’re married. He’s single and likes the ladies, I understand, although you’d never know it.”

“Did your visit have anything to do with Alex Thorton?”

“No. The PM wanted me to help one of his constituents with a very ticklish matter. I told him it was in Thorton’s area and made a few suggestions for Thorton to work on.”

“Did you have a chance to talk to Thorton?”

“Didn’t have a chance. The PM invited me to spend the night with them. It was quite a night. We didn’t go to bed until two o’clock. I had an early flight and was very tired. Didn’t hear about Thorton until the afternoon in my office.”

“Who is likely to succeed Thorton?”

“I’ve made no secret that I’d like the job, but that is up to the PM.”

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When Archie returned to the station, Connor had told him Hazlett did not want to be disturbed. He and Gibson have been talking going on three hours.”

Chapter Eleven

Roy Craddock, Stan Fortune, and Fortune’s son, Ashley, were at the table. Michael Sullivan, who replaced Craddock’s son at the farm, entered and sat down with them. Craddock’s son had been killed in the war, and Hazlett introduced them to Michael, who now took over most of the heavy work at the farm. After two years, Michael had become their second son and was now seeing a young lady from a neighbouring farm.

He and Ashley had also become friends. Ashley felt comfortable talking to him and admired how Michael had turned his life around. He wished the same for himself.

“You’ll be fine as long as you’re here. Should they chance by and come in, you and your father must go immediately to the cellar. There’s a hidden place down there behind the storage bins that will keep you safe until they leave. I will come down and knock five times on the door so that you know it’s me. I’ll show you the place now.”

They went down the stairs, and Ashley followed him to the vegetable bin at the end of the cellar. He pushed on the wood panel, and a hidden door creaked open. “Have a peek inside.”

They entered and found a small bench wide enough

for two people. Ashley tried sitting, and when he stood, he grabbed Michael Sullivan’s arm. “Thank you for doing this for us.”

“The Inspector helped me get back my life, and I cannot repay him enough for what he did for me.”

Ashley told his father about the hideout in the cellar and went out into the barn to help Michael with the chores. Roy Craddock pushed back the curtains and waved to Stan to look with him. They both smiled. “Michael’s a fine boy. Don’t know what we’d do if he weren’t here. Cheer up. Better times are ahead.”

***

Archie waited for an hour before rapping on Hazlett’s door. Hazlett waved him in. “We’re talked out. How about you?”

Archie tried to smile as he recounted his conversation with Marshall and his follow-up interview with a cabinet minister, who had hoped for Thorton’s portfolio and is still hoping he will get it now that Thorton is dead.

“What about Marshall. “I have a feeling he’s too good to be true.”

“Not according to the cabinet minister who likes working with him. “Marshall likes the ladies but has no desire to marry and is a Cambridge graduate.”

“Do you think the cabinet member would kill to get a portfolio he’s wanted all along?”

“Hard to say. I didn’t see him face to face. Just over the phone.”

Connor stuck his head in the door.”It’s the prisoners, Inspector. They’re holding one of our guards hostage with a fork at his throat.”

Hazlett rushed past Archie and Connor, who followed him downstairs to the cells. Two constables stood outside trading shouts with the two prisoners in the cell. Hazlett stood for almost a minute to calm himself before

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walking to the cell. The constable stood back when he saw him coming. Hazlett stood in front of him to survey the situation.

“How did this happen?” said Hazlett, turning to face the constable.

“One of the guards entered with their trays for their noon meal and was grabbed by one of the inmates, who took a fork from the tray and held the guard from behind with the fork at his throat.”

“If you don’t want him to die, you will do exactly what I say,”said the inmate, a man in his early 50s and with crooked front teeth. “Unlock the door immediately, or I swear I’ll stick this fork deep into your constable’s throat.”

“Is that all?” said Hazlett.

“We also want the other prisoners freed and provide us with a car so that we can drive away without anyone following us. We’ll throw him out once we’re out of town.”

Hazlett tried a smile and moved closer to the bars. “Liste to me,” he said in a deep, authoritative voice. “If you do not release him at once, I’ll see to it that you spend the rest of your life behind bars.”

“I’ll kill him. I swear I will,” he said, pushing the fork into the constable’s skin.

“And I will shoot you with a revolver that will blow your head off.” Hazlett nodded to Connor, who found a pistol quickly and passed it to him.

“You’re bluffing.”

“You won’t know with your head blown off,” said Hazlett, raising the pistol and aiming at him.

The other prisoner moved away and watched what was going to happen next. His friend lowered the fork from the constable’s neck. The other constable opened the cell door for him, and he stood outside breathing hard. Hazlett returned the pistol to Connor and walked

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away.

In the main room, he paused to talk to Connor. “It’s time we interrogated these gentlemen. Interrogate each one by themselves and see what we can find out.”

“Do you think they might be connected to the murder?”

“I doubt it, but you never know what we might learn. We need to know where their leader is. He’s a stranger in these parts and without a hideout.”

June was waiting with Gibson when he returned to his office. “We revisited Thorton’s office and came up with a new lead. Margaret, his secretary, remembered Thorton getting a lot of calls from a man named Robert Perkins. She doesn’t know what the calls were about, but it certainly upset Thorton every time he called.”

“Were you able to track down Mr. Perkins?” It was exactly what Hazlett needed to hear.

“Yes. Perkins is director of education for Gladstonbury,” said Gibson. “We thought we’d fly it past you first.”

“Pay a visit to Mr. Perkins when you leave here and find out why Thorton was so upset by his calls.”

“A couple of other things before we leave,” said June. We went back to the Manor, searched every room, including the garden, and found some footprints. “One of the prints left a distinct heel mark of a British Bulldog. We also checked the unwashed tea cups on the table.”

Connor had other news for him. “We have the fingerprints from Thorton’s dining room and his bedroom. There were a number of them.”

“We need to take prints of all the people who might have visited him that night.”

There was a gleam in Connor’s eye. He phoned everyone connected with Thorton and asked them to come to the station to be fingerprinted.”

“I feel like a criminal,” said Faith Henshaw, rubbing off the black from her fingers from replacing the a new typewriter ribbon. He blew some away the hair that had slippe dover her forehead.

“You shouldn’t,” said Hazlett as he was walking by. It helps us eliminate the people who knew him and might have been at his home the night he was killed. Faith smiled at Hazlett. “I loved Alex. He will always be in my mind. I pray for him every day.” She dabbed her eyes with a small handkerchief and tried to smile.

Peter Carrick came, limping with a cane later in the afternoon. “I came because I thought it was the curse I made when he met me. I felt guilty and was somehow the cause of his death.”

Connor walked him to Pip, who had a gift for making people good when being printed.

“So that’s how it works,” said Carrick as he reached for his cane. He saw Hazlett approaching him. “Good hunting.”

“Enoch Burgess called to say that he was preparing for his annual shareholder’s meeting and would come next week,” said Archie.

“Call him and let him know that we expect him to either come to us the moment his annual meeting is over and that if he fails to do so, we will have a couple of constables escort him out of his office and have him fingerprinted at the closest constabulary.”

June had news of another nature. She had called Perkins at his office to be told that he had not come into his office since the beginning of the week.

“Probably the day Thorton was murdered,” said Hazlett. “He’s probably married. If he’s any place, we’re likely to find him there.”

Pip readied the car as soon as he saw them leave Hazlett’s office. June gave Pip the address, and they were

off, with Pip driving past the other side of town, close to the Old Milton road in a new housing development. He parked behind Perkins’s car in the driveway, and Hazlett knocked on the door. Someone looked back the curtain to see who was calling before walking to the door. A woman in her late 40s opened the door and waited for Hazlett to speak.

June smiled at her. “My name is Constable June Gibson, and this is our Inspector, Winton Hazlett. We’d like to see your husband.”

“He’s not here. And my name is Laura Simpson. I’m not his wife but his sister.”

June could hear a child crying in the next room. Laura didn’t budge. “Can you tell me what this is about?”

“Mr. Perkins made a number of calls to Alex Thorton, Gladstonbury’s new MP and cabinet minister, who was murdered a few days ago.”

“I knew Alex as well and was sorry to hear that he had been murdered. So was Rob. We grew up together and were friends. I think I can tell you why Rob was calling him. He wanted Alex to find him a job in London. I know Alex told him the job Rob wanted was not within his ministry but would try. When he heard that Alex had been murdered, he snapped. It ended all his hopes.”

“Where is Robert now?” said Hazlett.

“In the hospital. They came and took Rob away two days ago. I got a call from Jill, his daughter, crying and telling me that her father had locked himself in his room and would not answer her. I came immediately.”

She paused and stepped back. “Let’s into the kitchen where I can make us tea.”

They followed her inside and sat down at table with a cream-coloured tablecloth. His daughter and younger brother followed them. The kitchen was not large. It had two small windows that looked out at the backyard.

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One of them was above the sink, where Laura Perkins turned on the tap to pour water into the teapot. The table had a blue plastic-topped top and shiny metal legs with matching chairs. “These new houses don’t have very big kitchens, I’m afraid.”

“When is our father coming home?” asked Jill.

“He’s is not feeling well and is in hospital until he gets better,” said Laura. “In the meantime, I will be looking after your father until he recovers. Now, take a tea for you and your brother and play a game. I will be with you soon.”

Laura looked inside the bread box and found a package of cookies. ‘Tea without cookies is not really tea, our mother used to tell us. Where was I? When I called the hospital, they told me he had had a nervous breakdown and could not tell me when he would recover.”

“Do you think he might have gone to see Alex Thorton before he snapped?” aid Hazlett.

Laura shook her head. “That’s the last thing he would do. He was very bashful, and that was part of his problem with his wife. I used to tell him that, but he wouldn’t listen and gave her everything. He even had a problem calling Alex. Going to seeing Alex and telling him that his marriage was in jeopardy if he didn’t get a transfer to London was not something Rob would ever do.”

“You mentioned his marriage,” said June.

“That’s what made him snap in my mind. “He could never satisfy Jennifer. No matter what he did. She started seeing someone about a year ago and had a baby. When she left him, I understand she told him the baby was not his. He was still crying when I came and kept pleading with her to stay, even though she was packing her clothes and the preparing the baby to leave their home. I understand from Jill, she didn’t even say goodbye to her or her brother. He was quite a wreck when I arrived. I

called the hospital, and they had a hard time getting him to leave. He kept saying over and over she will come back at any time. I must be here for her. I call the hospital every day but don’t learn much.”

“Do you know who the man is?” said June.

“It was a dark secret. She just up and left. Jill looked out the window and saw her get into a new back car that had a driver. Her boyfriend took the baby until she was inside the car. Jill and her brother cry themselves to sleep every night. I do whatever I can, but they really need their father.”

Hazlett was shaking his head when they left and got inside the car. “Where to now?” said Pip.

“The hospital,” said June. “I guess that writes Robert Perkins off from our list.”

Hazlett didn’t respond. June knew he was thinking about Alma, his wife, who died of cancer.

They reached the hospital 40 minutes later in silence. June got out first and led them inside. She knew Hazlett was a friend of Agnes Childers and would talk to her first.

Agnes spotted him getting out of the car and knew precisely why he had come calling. She moved from behind her partitioned desk and to the waiting room. “If it’s about Robert Perkins, Winton, there’s not much I can tell you other than he’s had a complete breakdown. Dr. Culver might be more helpful”

Agnes turned to June. “Haven’t seen you since your wedding. How are things?”

“Everything is fine. Turning Leslie into a husband has been challenging at times, but he’s a real dear.”

“Do you know if Mason is busy?” said Hazlett.

“He’s with a patient just now but will likely be free in a few minutes unless there is a complication of some kind. I have to get back to my desk. I see a couple of patients coming to checkout.

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The waiting room had blue chairs and large tall windows that reached the ceiling, and a speaker playing classical music. Hazlett tapped his knee with his forefinger in tune with the music and kept looking around. Dr. Culver appeared from behind two couples heading their way.

Hazlett stood and waved him over. “Understand you’re looking after Robert Perkins.”

“If you’re here to talk to him, don’t waste your time. We can’t get a word out of him or even talk about himself and his problems.”

“Perhaps June and I can hear him talking.” Culver nodded. “You’ve got two minutes. If you fail to reach him, you’ll have to leave.”

They followed him down the corridor. Culver opened the door for them. They saw Perkins at once. He was crouching in the corner, shaking his head and breathing hard. “Rob,” said Hazlett. “Talk to me, Rob.” Perkins looked at them and gradually got to his feet. He put his arms around June and hugged her. “You’ve come back. I knew you would.”

June struggled to free herself.

“You, also, Alex. I hope you have good news for me.”

Dr. Culver looked at what was happening and was smiling. When they left, he couldn’t wait to talk to them. “What do you know that I don’t?”

“His wife left him for another man and took her baby with her. He’s waiting for her to come back so that they can be a happy family again.”

Chapter Twelve

The fingerprint results were disappointing. None of them matched the ones they had taken. But Hazlett was reluctant to give any of his suspects a pass. He knew the answer was there, probably looking at them. They had to do better than that. His gut told him he had to look elsewhere for the murderer.

Connor opened the door.”The Chief Inspector is on the phone, Inspector.”

Hazlett picked up the phone. “I’m under a lot of pressure to send two or three of my best detectives to help you solve your case. I know you don’t deserve it, but I don’t have to tell you where the pressure is coming from.” The Chief Inspector paused to choose his next words carefully. “We’re also having problems of our own. We’ve had six homicides this past month with no suspect in sight. The murders have dropped off a bit, but, like you, we’ve exhausted every lead we have with still no real suspect in mind.”

“We’ve got other problems as well,” said Hazlett after a pause, “a member of my Lancaster crew and his son are being threatened by the head of a gangster mob. We thought we had him, but he’s escaped and has gone underground. But he’ll surface eventually.”

The Chief Inspector did not speak for some time.

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“Do you think the minister’s murder and linked with him in some way?”

“Not unless Thorton was also a gambler. Out of curiosity, were any of your murder victims have gambling debts?

“We’re not sure. These were just ordinary people with no enemies. But we will look into that and let you know. Let me know if you track him down. We’d certainly like to chat with him.”

Hazlett thought about the gang leader for almost 20 minutes. He hadn’t connected him with Thorton’s murder. Perhaps Thorton was a gambler and that no one knew about it and that Thorton couldn’t pay them off. He played with the idea and decided it was time for them to put all their resources into finding where the gang leader and his lady friend had gone underground.

Hazlett buzzed for Connor. “Ask Archie to see me if he’s available. And June as well.”

June entered first and sat down in front of him, followed by Archie a minute later. “We hear that the Chief Inspector just called,” said Archie.

“He mentioned that he also has a dozen or so murders that have taken place in the last few months without any leads. Like us, he’s at his wit’s end. Every lead he’s had ended nowhere. It made me think about my friend, Stan and his son and our episode with his would-be killer, who’s gone out of sight.”

“We have four of his gangsters in the cells,” said Archie. “Maybe if we gave them the third degree, that might be able to tell us.”

June was shaking her head. “He’s not the type who leaves a trail.”

“I agree with June. The last place he’d go to would be to his old hiding place. He can’t leave without giving himself away.”

“His woman and child might be his Achilles’ heal,”

June went on. “They’re going to need milk for the baby and food for themselves. They can’t live on nothing.”

Hazlett sat back with the first smile in days. “Ask Connor to join us.”

Archie returned with Connor. “Archie says you need my help.”

“You know this area the way no one else does. If you were trying to hide out from the police, where would you go?”

“In one of the old houses that were bombed in the war and have not been torn down yet.”

“Archie, take four constables with you along with Connor to guide you and see what you can find. In the meantime, I’ll call Michael at Roy Craddock’s home and see how Stan and his son are getting on and if they’re aware of a man and a woman with a child that’s moved into the area.”

He glanced at Connor. “Did any of your team think to dust the glass of our mysterious friend who escaped our capture? He was drinking a glass of beer, as I recall.”

Connor shook his head. “We all thought we had him in custody and didn’t bother.”

***

The first house had no roof, but Archie insisted on checking out the bottom floor and basement. There were no signs of recent life there or in the next two houses. In the cellar of the fourth house, they found a large bed, a carpeted cement floor, a crib, and a baby bottle. There was also a small chest with a radio on it. At the other end was a small washtub with taps with running water. Conor looked at Archie and smiled.

Archie left one of the constables there in case they decided to come back and returned to the station. He sat down with Connor in front of Hazlett and described what they had found.

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“Did you find out anything when you called Michael?”

“They’ve encountered no strangers, but he did remark that one of the other farmers had mentioned to them about a couple living in one of the deserted farmhouses who came to buy milk for their baby. I told him I was sending a car for them and coming to the station. The people you mentioned are cold-hearted killers. Unless it’s Pip at your door, do not answer it.”

In the end, Hazlett decided for Pip to lead three cars, with four constables in each, to check deserted farmhouses after picking up the Craddocks, Michael, Stan and Ashley Fortune. ***

She woke when she heard the baby crying and looked at her boyfriend, who had been going over everything in the house. He had chopped some wood and had lit a fire to boil water so that they could wash up.

“This is a strange place. I’m not saying it’s haunted, but I found two leg irons in the basement. Odd things for a farmer to have. I’ll do a bit more looking in the barn as well. Did you know that one room upstairs is locked? I’ve looked for a key, but there are no keys of any kind here.”

She washed the baby and herself and tried to light a fire in the old iron stove in the middle of the kitchen. She would find a store and buy some flour and some new plates. The old ones were cracked and hard to clean.

He found an old, rusted crowbar in the shed with cracked windows that overlooked the barn and the fields beyond and brought it into the house. He headed upstairs and tried to open the door again by pounding on it with his boot. It was stuck or jammed. He checked the door sill for the tenth time to see if there was a key there. His finger only came back with grey dust. He then took

the crowbar and wedged it in the crack between the door and the casing. The wood splintered with a loud noise, but not enough to open the door. He ran his finger up the crack in the door and found a slightly larger hole. He wedged the crowbar as far as he could inside the gap. The door gave way with a shudder. He put both hands around the edge of the door and pulled with all his strength. It opened a bit larger but still not big enough for him to slip through. He used his crowbar again, and the hinges suddenly gave way, and the door fell to the floor, sending up clouds of swirling dust that he could taste on his lips.

It was dark inside, and he returned to the kitchen to get a candle and lit it when he returned to the doorway. He slipped inside again. Something was in the corner. He approached it to find the skeleton of a hunched body covered by the flour sack. He examined it to find a hole in its head. He jerked back, rubbed the dust off his hands, left the room, and returned downstairs, where a plate of eggs and bread awaited him.

“By the look on your face, I’d say you’ve found something you weren’t expecting,” she said, sitting down opposite him. She reached for his free hand and held it for a few seconds.

“It was a skeleton covered by a flour sack, with its skull smashed in.”

He rose and washed his hands for the second time. “It gave me the creeps. No wonder they thought this place had ghosts.”

“I gather it’s not something I should see,” she said, rubbing his hand.

“I think we should find another place. We’ve already overstayed our welcome as it is. We’ll find another place, perhaps better than this. Maybe a place with electricity.”

“Why can’t we just leave this area and get away from all the memories associated with it.”

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She looked out the window behind him to see four cars pass them on the way. “I could be wrong, but I’d swear I saw policemen in them.”

They finished breakfast and packed everything. He took their bags to his car behind the house. She came out a few minutes later, with the baby wrapped in a blanket. He returned to get the blankets off the bed and ran out with them. He started his car and decided to head deeper into the wilds along the dirt road behind the house. They passed three deserted farmhouses before crossing another dirt road intersecting another where he headed north. They passed two more deserted farmhouses worse than the one they had left before he turned into a narrow driveway that ended behind the house and the trees. From the car, they could hear water running. “Stay in the car. Let me check this first.” He made his way through the thicket and a trail and passed a growth of trees to see a brook. He bent down and grabbed a hand palm of water and tasted it. It was fresh and pure to the eye and taste. He ran back to the car. She had left the car and waved to him from inside with a broad smile. Her blond hair hung over her right eye.

“I need a pail,” he shouted to her. “There’s a freshwater creek behind the trees with pure water.” He was out of breath and left her trotting down to the thicket where he disappeared from view. He returned a few minutes, this time holding a bucket of water and walking slowly. She took the pail from him and led him into the kitchen.

“What do you think?”

“Someone’s been here before. Not recently. Maybe a year or so ago from the look of the floor and the dust on the windows. It’s perfect. And far enough off the beaten track that no one will find us.”

The house was better than they thought. There was a small parlour with a small sofa and two chairs as well

as a radio. He looked inside and saw it was battery-powered. He turned it on and could hear someone singing. She started to cry. “Maybe we could stay here forever.”

He didn’t say anything as they headed upstairs to discover two bedrooms and a small washroom. He hugged her, and they returned downstairs. There was a green-painted door that led down to the cellar.

He went down with an uneasy feeling. It was dark, and he lit a candle and walked around it. He could hear rats scampering away in the darkness. He came across a chair with straps, looking as though someone had been strapped on it.

He returned upstairs. “There are rats downstairs. I’ll look for some traps after we’re settled in. In the meantime, under no circumstances take the baby take down with you.”`

She set about mopping the floor and shaking the dust off the curtains. Next, the iron stove, a later model than in the other house. Then she went upstairs to look for new sheets. There weren’t any. She took the old ones off the bed, carried them down to the kitchen sink, and used the remaining soap to wash them and wrung them out by hand before laying them on the grass. It was early afternoon, and the sun had warmed up the house and dried the sheets in a couple of hours.

When she returned to the house, she found him putting on his jacket. “The baby needs fresh milk. And we need to find a bakery for bread and a place to get some cheese and eggs.”

“I’m getting tired of cheese,” he said as she picked up the baby and followed him to the car.

“Suit yourself. But we do need food, no matter what it is.”

She was singing to the baby and rocking her at the same time. They followed the dirt road North, passing burned-out farms along the way until they reached the

main road. He opened the window for the warm breeze, filling their car with the scent of flowers. Two bees also found their way inside, and he had to stop the vehicle and open the car door until they flew out.

She spotted a farm up ahead. It looked like a working farm. In the distance, they could see another farm but liked the look of this farm. He wheeled the car into the yard. They could see a face at the window and stopped by the barn. An older man heard them and stuck his head out of the barn. It was strangers. He opened the barn door and walked out into the yard.

“We’re strangers in these parts,” he said. “Could we buy some milk from you for our baby?”

“Sure thing,” said Roy Craddock. “All you need. Are you passing through?”

She nodded and held the baby close.

“Follow me, and I’ll get my wife to pour you a few bottles. Let it not be said I turned a child away.”

He opened the door for them. They entered and came face to face with Stan Fortune.

Chapter Thirteen

He took his gun from his inner pocket of his jacket and pointed it at Stan. Michael and Ashley were listening to the radio inside and came out to see who had come. He waved his gun at Ashley to stand beside his father. Michael tried to slip into the shadows of the parlour and leave by the front door.

He could see Michael edging his way to the back. “Come where I can see you.”

Michael came and stood beside Roy and his wife, who was shaking. She had never seen anyone point a gun at her and held onto Roy’s arm tightly. Michael edged his way in front of her.

He pointed his gun at Stan and Ashley. “They know who I am, and they owe me 10,000 pounds. I am going to take them away with me. If you try to stop me, I will kill you all. Do you have a phone?”

Michael nodded and pointed to the phone on the kitchen wall near the door. He walked to the phone and ripped the wires from it. He looked at Stan. “You two, start for the door.”

Stan and Ashley lowered their arms and started for the door just as four cars suddenly squealed their way onto the backyard. “It’s the police,” said Michael. He looked out the window. “Shut up. I’ll shoot anyone who makes a noise.”

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Pip knocked on the door. No one moved. Pip opened the door, seeing the Craddocks standing like candlesticks. He moved into the parlour with his gun trained on them. “I want you all to leave with me now.”

No one moved. “They’re not going anywhere, and neither are you,” he said, stepping into the kitchen with his gun levelled at Pip’s chest.

“Twelve constables are waiting for me to come outside with these people. If they don’t see us, they will surround the house and disable your car.”

The baby started to cry. Emma Craddock reached out for the baby, but he knocked her arm away. She began to cry, and he grabbed her and made her walk with him to the door. “We are leaving here. If anyone tries to stop us, I will put a bullet through her head. She will drive for five minutes with us, and then we will let her out.”

He looked at Stan and his son. “You two are very lucky. But your luck will run out, and you will really know what it means.”

He pointed to Pip. “Tell your men to let us proceed to my car and not follow us for five minutes.” Pip left and chatted with the other constables and returned. “We’re taking you on your word. If something happens to her, you will be hunted down, and we will make sure you never see the light of day for the rest of your life.”

He ignored him as he edged Emma out the door with the baby following them. They reached the car without incident and drove away. Pip counted out the seconds and gave the signal for them to head out. They found Emma crying on the side of the road. Pip held her for almost ten minutes until she stopped sobbing and shaking. She held his arm all the way back to the farm.

“What if they come back?” said Roy.

“I doubt that. We will be watching your house, and they will know that. And Stan and his son will be trans-

ferred to our station until we finally track him down. He’s a cat with seven lives. He hasn’t many more left by my reckoning.”

In the end, they all decided to join Stan and his son in the station for the night. “Any idea where he might have gone when he left?” said Hazlett.

“There are a lot of roads back there, and it would take some time before we find him again. But one of our constables had the foresight to copy down the licence plate number and colour of his car. So we might be able to at least learn his name and something about him.

“Good work, Pip. Get that process started now. Given the area, I also think I know exactly where he’s hiding out. But before we go after him, let’s find out everything we can about him.”

Hazlett decided to go to the hospital during lunch. Agnes led him down the corridor to the room where Perkins had been locked up. A young doctor was talking to him without any results. He rapped on the door, and the doctor came and let in Agnes and Hazlett.

“There’s a way to reach him. His breakdown is all about his wife. Permit me five minutes, and you can take it from there. “Robert, it’s your old friend Alex. Your wife tells me she is with your daughter.”

Perkins stopped walking to look at Hazlett.

“How old is your new daughter?”

Perkins struggled to say her name and finally gave up.

“What can you tell me about the man she is with.”

Perkins struggled to say something that sounded like gangster.”

Hazlett stepped back and nodded to the young doctor. “He’s here because his wife left him. If you can get him to talk about her, he might be able to come to terms with it.”

“She sounds like quite a woman,” said Agnes as

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they strolled back to her office. “She may be the key to capture a very violent man who would kill you without a qualm. I understand that she has blond hair and is quite attractive, and carries her daughter with her everywhere she goes. Should she appear, call me immediately.”

“What makes you so sure she will come here?”

“Just a hunch,” said Hazlett with a smile.

***

He parked the car behind the house and helped her inside. “We still need milk for the baby,” she said, sitting down on the sofa in the parlour.

“You take the car and find a place that sells milk and bread and other things. Forget about the other farmhouses. They’ll all be on alert now.” He tossed her the keys. “I’ll take good care of the baby.”

She drove back towards Glastonbury and kept watching her rearview mirror to check if anyone was following her. She spotted a store close to town and entered. She got two cartons of milk, two loaves of bread, cheese and fried chicken and paid it with the ten-pound note he had given her. She started back. The sun was low in the sky, and darkness was falling. She turned off the road and drove past the deserted farmhouses that looked menacing somehow in the growing darkness. She drove up to the point when turned North. She could see the eyes of small animals on the side of the road. She did not know that she was breathing heavily. Jennifer passed another farmhouse and then another before stopping at the next one. She drove into the yard and got out of the car. There were no lights. She tried to open the door and had to lay down the groceries and pounded on the door. It suddenly gave way.

A wolf was standing in front of her with burning red eyes and lurched at her. She slammed the door shut just in time. She could hear him scratching the door fu-

riously as she opened the car door and realized she had left the groceries at the doorstep and ran back, with her heart pounding in her ears.

She got in the car and started to cry. She had to back up and turn, but the space was too small to manoeuvre easily. For the first time, she said a prayer. The wolf had somehow escaped and ran to the car, jumping to see her and pounding on her window. She backed up several times to get the car finally facing the road. Sweat ran down her back. The car lurched onto the road, and she headed North. It had to be the next one. She stopped and surveyed the farmhouse from where she was sitting. There were no lights, and she started the car again.

She could see the lights from a distance and turned into the driveway. She turned off the ignition and spotted him in the shadow of the doorway. He took her bags and helped her inside. “You look ghastly. What happened?”

“I made a mistake and stopped at the wrong farmhouse and found a wolf staring at me. He followed me to the car and tried to get inside. I ran to the car and got inside just in time.”

“There are no wolves in England. They’ve been extinct for centuries,” he said, pouring her a drink.

“If it wasn’t, it certainly looked like one from all the pictures I’ve seen of wolves in books. Whatever it was, it scared the hell out of me.” She looked at him for a full minute before speaking. I want to leave here. Tomorrow morning first thing and never look back. What if a creature like that found its way and carried away the baby?”

He didn’t respond immediately. “We can leave now if you wish.” He reached out and held her until she stopped shuddering.

Pip entered Hazlett’soffice with a piece of paper in his hand. “This guy is very slippery” He placed the form

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on Hazlett’s desk. The licence registration for a car was made out to Deuces Wild, a car rental firm in London. “We chased it down to find out it doesn’t exist.”

Hazlett closed one of his eyes and thought for a minute. “Go to the cells and have a chat with his associates. Tell them that their boss has outsmarted us, that he slipped away from us and that they’ll have to do time for his crimes.”

Pip entered the cells and talked to them. They just laughed. “We’re not worried. He has a sharp solicitor on his payroll who will come and get us out of here in a hurry.”

“He must be slipping. He hasn’t appeared yet.”

The laughing stopped, and they turned away from him. “The Inspector knows where he is at the moment. We almost caught him yesterday. So we know he is in the vicinity. We think you don’t even know his name. He’s played you guys for suckers. Tell us we’re wrong.”

The cells went silent as he turned away.

Hazlett was talking to June and her husband, Connor and Archie, when Pip returned. He stopped when he saw Pip, who shook his head. “You may recall that you found me strapped to a chair in the basement of a deserted farmhouse three or four years ago. That’s where I think they’re hiding out if they have not left already. Our friend likes to keep on the move to avoid detection.” He turned to Connor, “get a few constables together and let us head out in the next few minutes.”

“Should they be armed?” said Connor. Hazlett nodded. “I’d like to leave here in the next five minutes.”

They entered the Old Milton Road and headed north when they were passed by a car going in the opposite direction. They turned off the main road and onto a direct road, where they followed Connor in the lead car. They found the farmhouse about 15 minutes later and could

see from outside that someone had been there. The door was unlocked, and they moved inside to find the stove still warm and a wrapping for cheese on the table.

“That car that passed us,” said Hazlett. “It had to be them.” He turned to Connor, send out a bulletin for all police in the area to stop a car with the suspect’s licence plate. Warn them that he is armed and dangerous.”

***

He drove the car at top speed down the Old Milton Road and took the roundabout going South. Two police cars passed their car and kept on going. The baby was crying. “For Heaven’s sake, shut her up before I go insane.”

Headlights suddenly appeared behind them. A police car drove up beside them and signalled for them to stop. He ignored them and kept on driving. Another police car appeared out of nowhere and moved in front of them. He had to slow down to a crawl. He waited for the constables to get out of their cars and walk to him before pressing his foot on the gas and wove around the police car in front of him before speeding into the darkness. He kept looking in the rearview mirror to see them just starting to chase him. There was a curve in the road ahead and a forested area just off it. He turned off the road and drove underneath a bridge, and waited. The baby started crying again, and he was ready to pull his hair out. He saw the lights of the two police cars pass over him and down the road.

He drove back onto the road and decided to go North again and take the first dirt road off the highway. The baby had fallen asleep as she held a nipple bottle to the baby’s lips. He could hear the baby suck on the nipple, and he gritted his teeth. Up ahead, they was an old log road that hadn’t been used in some time. He slowed down and drove a short distance, where they found a

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forested area and a small road off it. He back his car among the trees and waited.

Hazlett listened to the reports from the two police cars that had lost track of him. “Double back until we meet. He’s taken a road off the main highway. He’s boxed himself in no matter whether he knows it or not.”

They met 20 minutes later and had a conference in Hazlett’s car. “We found where he went off the road. He veered off the road around a curve and hid as we drove by.”

“That means he’s reversed course, hoping that he has led us astray. There are only a few roads off the highway from where you stopped him and the bridge. You take the first road and follow it down. If you don’t see tire tracks, head back,” he said to the constable from the first car. “You take the next road, “ he said to the other constable, “and I’ll take the third.”

Hazlett spotted an old log road and tapped Pip’s shoulder to turn in. They entered and drove down the road, past the forested area for about five minutes before turning around and heading back towards the highway. They came to the forested area, and Pip turned on the sidelight to scan the area.

“Do you see what I see? Call the other two cars to join us. We may have a shooting match before this is over. In the meantime, turn off the engine and keep the sidelight on.

There was movement from the darkness. He appeared with the woman and the child. They stood in front of him.

“Unless you move away, you will have to go through my woman and child before you get me. Now, either back away or be responsible for a blood bath.”

Chapter Fourteen

She glanced back at him, her face suddenly cold and anger flaming in her eyes. She elbowed his stomach and reached inside her blouse, threw one of the smoke bombs at his feet and ran as fast as she could away from him. Four constables rushed at him before he could recover and threw him on the ground to handcuff him.

She ran instinctively to June, who opened her arms to her. She was shaking with tears, black from the mascara that streaked down her cheeks and held her baby closer. June reached out to hold her baby, but she backed away.

“Your baby is so pretty. I just wanted to hold her. I hope one day I have one that looks just like her.” She smiled and let June walk her away from the scene and to one of the police cars. They both sat in the back seat. June put her arm around her and brushed away the tears. “I’ve ruined my life,” she kept muttering over and over. June held her closer.

Hazlett slid inside and looked back at her. “You’re safe now, and so is your baby.”

“I’ve ruined my life and the life of my baby,” she said, looking at him.

“If you feel up to it, could I ask you a few questions?” said Hazlett, offering her a reassuring smile. “Your name. Is your name Jennifer Perkins?”

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She nodded. “Then, you know why I’ve ruined my life.”

“You’ve ruined your husband’s life. When you left, he snapped, and he is now under treatment in hospital. “If he can see you, I’m sure he would snap out of it. You would be helping him get his life back.”

Jennnifer pushed back her blond hair and looked away. “I’m sorry I did this to him. He didn’t deserve it, and neither did my children. I left them without a thought about their welfare. When I saw he was prepared to have me and our child killed to save his hide, I saw who Oscar really was -- someone who was prepared to walk away from his own child to save himself. I wasn’t much better. I was walked away from my own children and the best man in the world.”

Hazlett offered him one of his comforting smiles. “I’m sure that he would be pleased to see you. And so would your children. When we get back to Gladstonbury, I’ll drop you there, and you can judge for yourself.”

Hazlett then called the hospital to talk to Mason Culver. “I am driving Robert Perkins’s wife to her home as we speak. You might want to come there with your patient. It will change everything for everyone.”

“I’m not sure, Winton. He’s regressed, and there’s no telling what he’ll do once he sees her.”

“My money says it will put him on the road to recovery.”

“It’s against my better judgement, but I owe it to him to find out. We’re not getting anywhere with him at the moment.”

Connor stuck his head in the door. “There’s a Mr. Burgess here to see you.”

Hazlett smiled. “Show him in and advise Archie.”

Burgess came in first with a smile and sat down in front of Hazlett’s desk. “I thought I had better come and explain why I can’t be fingerprinted.”

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Hazlett stiffened. “Go on.”

Burgess showed him his hands. They had been badly burned and were covered with yellowish, wrinkled skin.”

Archie arrived just in time to see Burgess’s hands and sat down next to him.

“RAF?” said Hazlett.

“Hawker Hurricane on my fifth mission. My cockpit caught fire. I tried it put it out, but my hands got badly burned in the process. I was barely able to bail out.” Then, after a pause, “sorry about poor Thorton. He didn’t deserve this. We had a big disagreement over my contract, but I believed he did not fully understand just what my contract entailed. I had a word with the PM, and the matter was resolved. This was before Thorton was murdered.”

“You should have called me and told me about your hands. “I am also RAF, flew Lancasters over Germany. I crashed my first Lancaster in the Channel and lost my entire crew. I was the only one who survived. It still bothers me.”

Burgess extended his hand and patted Hazlett’s arm. “I have nightmares some nights, too. Nights are the worst.”

Hazlett buzzed Connor and asked him to bring in tea with some extra scones. Connor entered a minute later. He noticed Bugress’s burnt hands with four mugs of tea and a plate of scones and passed the first mug and scones to Burgess.

Burgess bit into the scone and shook his head. “Where in the world did you ever get these?” He took a mouthful of tea and then another bite.

“We have a private source. From a lady we met during one of our investigations. We place an order with her every month.”

“Could you provide me with her telephone num-

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ber?”

“I’ll write it out for you. And their names. When you call, ask for Roy or Michael and tell them I advised you to call them and ask if they could look provide you with Emma’s scones.”

Burgess was dressed in a navy blue blazer with an RAF crest on his lapel and grey trousers. He had a jovial face and liked to smile and laugh. His hair was greystreaked, and his eyes were dark blue. He saw back in the chair. “I gather you’re still having a problem solving Thorton’s murder.”

Hazlett nodded. “We’re stumped. I don’t mind telling you. Every lead we had, except for one, has gone up in smoke.”

“May I suggest that you widen your scope. Perhaps people he may have known earlier and who may still had a grudge against him. I can tell you his colleagues and suppliers are pretty honourable people. I deal with most of them and pride myself on being a pretty good judge of character.”

When he stood, Hazlett passed him another scone and shook his hand again. Hazlett didn’t say much after he left. His mind had gone back to the Channel and trying to save one of his crew.

“Let’s start with our friend, who raves at us every time we escort someone down to the cells,” said Archie. “Have him brought up and made sure both his feet and hands are cuffed behind his back.”

Archie and Connor brought him to Hazlett’s office. His upper lip snarled as they dumped him in the chair in front of Hazlett’s desk. Connor strapped him to the back of the chair to stop him from moving.

“I’d like to start by asking you your name.” He looked at his feet and didn’t respond.

“We will find out sooner or later. We suspect you’ve made a lot of enemies. We’ll place a picture of you in

newspapers and check all police files. But we will find out before you’re taken from here.”

He looked away and offered no comment.

“Alex Thorton knew your name,” said Hazlett.

“I don’t think so, and besides, he’s the bloke who was murdered recently, so good luck.”

“We discussed you with one of our psychiatrists. He suspects you’ll let people down, like your parents, if they find out you’re headed for prison.”

“Think what you want. If you think you can hold me in a cell or handcuffs, you’re in for a big surprise. Before I see a courtroom, I will be long gone from here.” His voice was confident and strong, and he smiled.

Hazlett nodded to Archie and Connor, who untied him from the chair and led him down into the cells. The other prisoners saw him coming and beat on the bars with their tin mugs. He tried to bow as he shuffled past each cell. Archie opened the last cell door and unlocked his handcuffs and boot chains. Connor stook with a large stick to make sure he didn’t try to grab Archie.

“If I hear you talking to any of the prisoners, we will move you into solitary confinement where you can talk your head off,” said Archie as he slammed his cell door shut and locked it.

“He’s pretty damn arrogant,” said Archie.

“That type always is until they come to life in prison. That’s when reality really bites. He will, too.” Then, after a pause, “But I do believe he doesn’t know Thorton. They wouldn’t move in the same circles.”

Archie arose, shaking his head, when Hazlett stopped him with a raised hand. “But get getting back to our friend, Burgess. He gave us another avenue to explore. Remain while I call Agnes at the hospital. She has a great memory for names and ask if she remembers the name of our teachers.”

He dialled the hospital number and asked for Ag-

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nes, who came on the line a few seconds later. “It’s me, Agnes. I need that great memory of yours. The name of our teachers and those who were still there ten years later when Thorton was a student.”

“There was Miss Kent and a Miss Dow and Mr. Rattray. What is this about, Winton?”

“It’s about the boys who attended school with Alex Thorton.”

“Try Mr. Rattray. If anyone would know, he would. He may still be there.” Then, after a pause, “about your friend, Perkins. His wife came to see him today and is still with him. She was just the tonic he needed.”

Hazlett smiled and made a mental note to visit her later. He looked up at Archie. “There’s a Miss Tomlinson, who may still be there.”

“I’ll get Pip to fire up the car,” said Archie. On the way out, Hazlett paused to talk to Connor. “If our favourite prisoner causes any problems or tries to rile up the others, go down and remind him the solitary confinement is next for him.”

Rattray was just closing his class door when they arrived a few minutes later. “A word, Mr. Rattary,” said Hazlett.

“Yes, Inspector. How may I help you?”

Rattray wore dark-rimmed glasses. His face was pale and thin like his body. A green bag in his right hand bulged with tests. His brown eyes took everything in as he tugged on his tweed jacket.

“It’s about a former student of yours. Alex Thorton.”

“Yes, young Thorton.” Rattray had a deep voice that could send shivers up the backs of many students. “A good student but always in trouble with one boy or another. Liked to fistfight. But led his class and had a mind that was curious about everything.”

“We’re curious about some of the boys he liked to fight with. We would appreciate their names if you can

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recall.”

“Robert Carlton liked to egg him on, Roger McKay liked to trip him when he entered class, and Martin Baldwin, a much bigger boy, liked to pick on him. Thanks to Martin, Thorton had a few black eyes, but it didn’t stop him from standing up to him. I’m not sure where any of them are now.” There was a note of sadness in his voice when he finished.

On their way back to the station, Hazlett couldn’t help but smile. “Ask Connor to track each of them down. I’d like to have a chat with them. My instincts tell me they helped to make Thorton the man he became. He was noted for standing up to hecklers during his campaign speeches and making fun of them to the delight of the crowd.”

They arrived back at the station to find the Chief Inspector waiting for Hazlett. Connor raised his hand as they approached them. “I left him in your office.”

The Chief Inspector was not a man you trifled with, and Hazlett knew that Hammerson was anxious to see their prize prisoner and that there would be in a shouting match between them in a matter of minutes. “We’re apt to make better headway if we first talk about him with you in detail before bringing him here.”

Chief Inspector Hammerson was a tall, big-boned man with a round face, watery blue eyes, and thick lips. He wore a tweed jacket, with his glasses in his jacket pocket. His brown hair was stringy and hung over his forehead. He had gold teeth that showed every time he laughed.

“I need to find out if this bully, or if any of his people were involved with all the murders we’ve had in the London area and towns and cities in southern England.”

“I’m not sure you’re going to find out anything. He keeps everything to himself. He won’t even tell us his name. I’ve had a couple of pictures of him taken and see what they turn up. And his men do not know his real

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name either. To them, he is just “the boss”.

“I’d still like to have a good look at him. You can tell a lot about people just by taking your time and looking at them in every way. We’re all multi-dimensional creatures, Winton. And so is he.”

“One thing more before we visit him, Chief Inspector. I get the feeling he has a plan to escape our custody when I talk to him, beyond the usual bravado.”

Hazlett escorted him down to the cells. They found him sitting on a stool, trying to read a comic book and occasionally smiling as he turned a page. The Chief Inspector took his cane and raped on the bars of the cell before he looked up.

His dark blue eyes scanned the Chief Inspector’s face, and he went back reading again.

“My name is Hammerson. Chief Inspector Hammerson. I would like to have a few words with you.” Then, after a pause. “There was a string of murders in southern England. Do you have any idea who might be involved?”

“Maybe.”

“If you can, we’re prepared to talk about reducing any sentence you might face. Right now, the Crown is looking for a life sentence.”

He laughed. “I won’t be here by the time my trial comes up.”

“You seem very sure of that.”

“If you want to talk a deal, think about something worthwhile for me and my men, starting with having all charges dropped against us.”

Hammerson looked at Hazlett and shook his head. “I’ll be back next week at this time with an answer.”

He kept shaking his head all the up to Hazlett’s office. “He’s a tough nut, no mistaking about that. I’ll see what I can do and get back to you. In the meantime, give me one of your photographs of him, and I’ll see it posted

all over southern England.”

Hazlett visited him again before heading home to see him reading another comic book.

“Where did you get these books? You’re not permitted to have anything like this.”

He ignored Hazlett and went back to reading. Hazlett left and talked to Connor about the prisoner and how he had comic books to read.

“I’ll check everyone who’s been in the cells.”

“If it’s one of our men, I want to see him first thing in the morning.”

Chapter Fifteen

Roger McKay was in his garden when Hazlett and Archie arrived at his home. He was reading The News of the World and looked up when he heard his wife talking to strangers. He patted his dog, who had begun to growl as Hazlett and Archie approached him.

“Mr. McKay, Hazlett from the constabulary.” He extended his hand, but McKay ignored it. “We’re investigating the death of Alex Thorton, who was murdered a few days ago at Somerset Manor. “

McKay straightened in his chair. “I read about it in The Observer. Have you caught the rascal who did this yet?” He crossed his legs and smiled at them with bright blue eyes. His hair was a dirty blond colour, and his round face had a strained look.

Hazlett shook his head. “Not yet, but we’re now vis-

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iting some of his classmates to see if they might know someone who wanted to kill him.”

McKay was wearing a knitted cardigan and picked off a piece of yarn from his sleeve. He shook his head. “We were classmates, and I have to admit I was one of the ones who teased him. We became good friends over the years, and I encouraged him to run for office.”

When they returned to their car, Archie looked at Hazlett. “What’s troubling you? I know you well enough to know that something is.” McKay’s dog had followed them out and stood next to them, wagging his tail.

“I’m not sure. Why do I have the feeling that everything was staged for our visit?”

“But they had no idea we were coming.”

“Unless Mr. Rattaray tipped him off. There’s something else going on we don’t know about.”

Martin Jones lived close by in a new housing development that was built after the war. He answered the door. “Had a call from Roger, telling me that you’re investigating the murder of Alex Thronton. I should have thought you would have him in your cells by now.”

He opened the door wider. “My wife and I are having a lemonade. Please join us,” he said, leading them to his backyard. His wife, Gladys, brought in two extra chairs for them. They sat around a glass-topped table as she poured them a lemonade. “There’s sugar in the bowl. Not like the war days,” she added with a cackle.

“Roger seemed pretty perturbed by your visit,” said Jones. He had dark eyes and a long, thin face, tanned from too much golfing. He was also wearing a knitted blue cardigan with three white rings on the left sleeve.

“Do you golf, Inspector? It’s very demanding and helps you to forget your most pressing thoughts. Alex used to join me some days. I helped him strengthen himself up for the campaign. As Glad will tell you, he spent many nights here talking about his approach to a num-

ber of decisions he had to make.”

Gladys brushed back her light brown hair and refilled their glasses. “Martin doesn’t drink alcohol, thank heavens. The couple next door has a lot of problems, poor things.”

Hazlett leaned forward. “Do you know of anyone who might have killed Mr. Thorton?”

“There were a few people in the opposite camp who had it in for him.”

“Anyone in particular?”

“Roger was one. He always claimed he was a big supporter of Alex. But he voted for Alex’s opponent, despite what he says.”

Hazlett rose and bowed to Gladys and shook his hand. “You’ve been more than helpful.”

Gladys rose to see them out, but Hazlett waved her down. “Sit and enjoy the rest of the afternoon with your husband.”

Back at the station, a young constable appeared before Hazlett. “But he was so persuasive. He told me he would give me a crown for every comic I bought for him.” Then, after a pause, “I didn’t know he was not to have anything to read.”

“When did you join us?” said Hazlett. “Three days ago.”

“No matter what any prisoner says to you, do not help any one of them unless Sgt. Moreton approves. Always check out everything with Sgt. Moreton going forward.”

Archie had a smile. “Ten to one, he’s gone before the month is out.”

Hazlett didn’t respond. “I’m also curious about the people surrounding Thorton’s opponent. I should not like to think any of them would stoop to murder.”

Archie made a note in his pad. “Where do we come from here? We’re running on empty.”

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“One thing I’m sure of. It will turn up when we least expect it. Someone will say something thinking the investigation is over.”

Hazlett rose and went to talk to Connor and recounted his conversation with their newest recruit. Hazlett was about to turn when Connor stopped him. “There’s a reading of Thorton’s will in the morning. Should I alert Archie?”

Hazlett nodded on his way out. He stopped and turned. “No. Ask Archie to pick me up, and we’ll go together.”

***

The reading of the will took place at the office of his solicitor, Geoffrey Jarvis, just off Shaftsbury Street. Hazlett was surprised to see Thorton’s old girlfriend, who had been mentioned in the will. There was also Thorton’s mother and his uncle.

Hazlett came in late and passed through Jarvis’s outer office. He noticed that several files were stacked on one of the desks and glanced at them. Jarvis’s secretary had ruby red lips and carried an aura of propriety by the way she walked and talked to the other two staff members.

Jarvis went through the preliminary preface solicitors used in the reading of wills and came directly to the beneficiaries. He cleared his throat and scanned each of their faces before starting. “To my mother, I leave a pension of 250 pounds a year for the rest of her life. And the rest of my assets to Faith Henshaw.”

Thornton’s mother rose with her brother. “Are you sure there wasn’t a later will drawn up? We understand she and Alex broke up before he died.”

Jarvis shook his head. “If he did so, he did not mention it to me. And in the absence of a new will, his current still stands.”

Faith sat in her chair with her hands folded on her lap. Thorton’s mother turned to her. “You,” she said, pointing her finger at Faith. “You killed him before he had a chance to change his will.”

Faith looked up. “I did not know that Alex even had a will. He never mentioned it to me.”

Thorton’s mother was shaking. She was wearig a large black hat with a black veil that covered her neck as well as her face. Her brother put his arm around her and led her out.

Pip started the car as soon as he saw them leave Jarvis’s office. “Do you think we might have another chat with Faith Henshaw?”

“It won’t hurt, but I somehow don’t feel she was involved in his death. I looked at her face with the reading of the will. There was genuine sadness there, and when the will was read, I felt she was as surprised as the rest of us.”

Connor was wringing his hands when they returned to the station. “The Chief Inspector is waiting for you, and he’s in a great mood. He’s in your office.”

Hazlett opened the door to see Hammerson smiling as he leafed through a folder. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Chief Inspector. Archie and I were at a reading of Thorton’s will. There were a few surprises.”

“I have a few more for you,” said Hammerson, passing the folder to him.

Hazlett sat down in front of the Chief Inspector and smiled as he leafed through the pictures and court documents. “So his name is Oscar. Oscar Tickler.”

They both laughed. “When you finish reading through the court documents, we might pay Mr. Tickler a surprise visit.”

“I see he was charged with theft as an 18-year-old and got off on a technicality and looks pretty much as he is today.” He looked up. “It didn’t take you very long to

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track him down.”

“Long enough,” said Hammerson, who had taken out his pipe and was lighting it. He puffed hard and blew grey wings with a smile. “One of the old hands in my office remembered him as someone who had refused to give him his name. He found out when his mother came to visit him while he was in our custody. They also took a picture of him as well as his fingerprints. It was pure luck.”

Hammerson led the way down to the cells, stopping in front of Tickler’s cell, where he rapped on the bars with his cane. Tinkler was sitting on his cot and straightened when he heard Hammerson’s voice. “We meet again, Mr. Tickler.”

Tickler, who was trying to grow a beard, looked haggard. “Call me Oscar.”

“You got off on a technicality on your first brush with the law, but this time you will not be so lucky. Right now, you’re looking at life in prison. But we could put in a good word for you and reduce your sentence if you’re prepared to help us.”

Tickler didn’t respond. He could hear the chatter from the other cells and the laughter, and tightened his grip on the cot.

“Can you at least tell us if you were part of the murders that took place in southern England during the past few months?” said Hammerson.

“My activities have not been in that part of England. It’s not a profitable area for my type of business.”

“Do you have any idea who might be behind them?”

Tickler nodded.

“Can you provide any names?”

He nodded again. “That will depend on what kind of deal you can offer?”

“Until then,” said Hazlett, “what about the murder of Mr. Thorton?”

“That was a local job. I don’t know anything more than that.”

Back in Hazlett’s office, they sat back and drank tea and talked about Hazlett’s father when he and Hammson were both young constables.

“I see you’re back to square one with your case. What about the lady who inherited the bulk of Thorton’s estate?”

“Archie’s talking to her now, but my instincts tell me she’s not the type. If it’s someone local, as our friend, Tickler believes, we’re missing someone in our investigation. There’s only one person we haven’t questioned. The PM.”

“Hardly likely.”

“Or his chief of staff, Dermot Marshall,” said Hazlett suddenly.

“It’s worth a try,” said Hammerson. “Bring him in on the pretext of helping with your investigation.”

“If it’s not Marshall, then it’s someone who we don’t know about yet, someone with a reason to kill Thorton. That means going back and rechecking everyone in town we may have missed.”

***

Pip drove into the yard of the PM’s summer residence. Hazlett and Archie knocked and were admitted. “We’re here to see Mr. Marshall,” said Hazlett.

The butler had been in the service of the PM’s family when he was still in his teens. He was wearing a black uniform and stood erect even when he walked. “Is Mr. Marshall expecting you?”

“Tell him Inspector Hazlett is here, seeking his help.”

“Please wait here until I check to see if he can see you.” He returned five minutes later. “Mr. Marshall is busy but is happy to see you. Please follow me.”

They walked through two rooms, painted a light

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blue, with paintings of Parliament and the Tower of London, before going up a flight of stairs and down a long corridor to Marshall’s office. He opened the door for them to enter.

“I hear you need my help?” Marshall took off his glasses and put them on his desk.

“It’s Thorton’s murder. We’ve reached the conclusion it’s someone who knew him, someone we are not aware of just yet. We’d like to rattle that brain of yours and see what conclusions you may have drawn.”

“I agree with you, but I will spend some time going over all local supporters he may have come in touch with him.”

“We’ve looked at every conceivable person we can think of, even you, at one point,” said Hazlett with a smile.

“What in the earth, why?”

“We believed that you were romantically interested with the PM’s daughter and that you were jealous of Thorton.”

“You can’t be serious. Belinda is a pretty young lady whom we all worry about. If you know much about her as we do, you would know why. She’s a bit of a handful and used to getting her own way. In fact, we encouraged Thorton to take an interest in her, and it worked until he was murdered.”

“We found a Cambridge tiepin and knew that you were one of its graduates, And you and the PM were the only persons we had not interviewed.”

Marshall shook his head. “That’s reaching, Inspector, even for you.”

“I agree. That’s why we’re here to ask for your help. We know the PM wants this wrapped up in a hurry, and we’re stumped at the moment.”

“I will give it some thought and go over the list of all our local supporters, as I said, and what names that

might stand out.” Marshall stood and shook their hands.

Pip could see that the interview had not gone as they had hoped by the way they walked to the car. No one spoke all the way back to the station.

“Do you think he will come up with some possible names?” said Archie.

“A few just to show he did what he promised.” Then, after a pause, “I am still not sure about him. Did you notice how his face flushed when we talked about the PM’s daughter?”

Connor was waiting for him. “June has returned from seeing Mr. Thorton’s secretary and wants a word.” June had risen from her desk and stood next to him. At a nod from Hazlett, she sat down with a smile on her face. “It appears that his secretary was also fond of her boss. When we talked about him and his work, she broke down crying. I got her to go through a list of all persons Mr. Thorton dealt with before and after becoming a cabinet minister.

“It seems he was quite a dashing figure for many women. Perhaps a woman with a jealous streak he had romanced who found out about him such as the PM’s daughter, who might have been driven to murdering him, especially if she had an understanding with him.” Hazlett looked at Archie. “It makes sense. It would have to be someone who had a key to the Manor and someone who knew where he slept and have it out with him. If Mr. Thorton was sleeping at the time, as it would appear, it might occur to her that he would do this again and again, and he should not live to ruin other women’s lives.”

“While you speak to his secretary next, ask her about the names of other women who acted in a possessive way about him.”

“And someone who knew about the ghost of Somerset Manor,” added Archie.

Chapter Sixteen

Malcolm Betts from The Observer is here and asking to see you,” said Connor. “Shall I send him in?”

“By all means. And bring in tea for him and me while you’re at it.”

Betts followed Connor and sat down opposite Hazlett. He reached into his tweed jacket for his pad and waited until Connor left. Betts had curly blond hair, and a round face broke into a smile when he looked at anyone.

“You’re the very person I planned to call today,” said Hazlett. “We need your help.”

“I came to see how you were progressing with the murder.”

“That’s where we need your help. We’re talking to everyone who knew Mr. Thorton, and while we have a few suspects, we’d like to broaden our list.”

Betts sat back and took a sip of tea. “And you would like us to help you do that, I gather.”

“More specifically, if you could consider writing an item asking your readers if they saw anyone going into or out of Somerset Manor on the night Mr. Thorton was murdered.”

Betts wrote it down and looked up. “I’ll fly it by my editor, especially if the plea comes as a quote from you, with responses, addressed either to you or us. All re-

sponses would be anonymous, of course.”

“That would be perfect.” Hazlett smiled and added: “We could make sure The Observer gets everything before anyone else.”

Betts couldn’t wait to tell Flynn, the editor when he got back. “In the meantime, Inspector, what have you been able to get a picture in your mind of who the murderer might be?”

“I don’t have a picture, as such, but we do feel that is someone who knows Mr. Thorton and who either had a grudge against him and knew he would let him inside the Manor. Someone local.”

Betts finished writing on his pad. “Anyone you might have in mind?”

Hazlett shook his head. “Sorry I can’t be more helpful.”

Betts glanced at his wristwatch. “I better leave now if I hope to get our story into today’s edition.” He finished his tea and shook Hazlett’s hand. “Thank you, Inspector,” he said as he turned and left, closing the door softly behind him.

Hazlett called in Connor, June and Archie to tell them about his interview and that it might be in The Observer’s afternoon edition.

“No wonder he left with a bounce to his step,” said Connor.

“In return, I think we can count on The Observer’s help going forward,” said Hazlett. “Right now, we need all the hope we can get. And we just get the break we’ve been looking for.”

Connor sent one of the constables out to get a copy of The Observer as soon as it came off the press. He returned about 25 minutes later excited. “There’s a story about the Inspector and even his picture on page one.”

Connor snatched it from him and waved to June and Archie to follow him inside the Inspector’s office. Con-

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nor opened it so that everyone could see it before passing it to Hazlett, who smiled at his picture, taken by Betts at an earlier meeting, and started reading:

Do You Know The murderer?

Inspector Winton Hazlett has asked The Observer to team up with the Galdstonbury Constabulary to track the murderer at Somerset Manor.

If you saw someone leaving or entering Somerset Manor last Wednesday evening, Inspector would like you to call him and tell him what you know. He also says all calls will be anonymous, and You will not be asked for your name.

The Observer joins with Inspector Hazlett in stopping this killer before he chooses someone else to murder. You can also call our editor with your information if you prefer, and we will forward it to the Inspector.

“It’s in large type as well,” said Archie. “If that doesn’t get a response, nothing will.”

“Do you want me to handle the calls, Inspector?” said Connor?

“Please do. But if anyone insists on talking to you, should I put them through?”

“Absolutely. And be sure not to ask for their name unless they give it to you.”

Shortly after five o’clock, the first call told them they saw a young woman knocking on the Manor door early that evening. And another, around seven, about seeing a man carrying a briefcase being let inside – a tall man, dressed in a black suit, who had arrived in a black car.

“Sounds like Marshall,” said Archie. After that, the calls faded. Around eleven o’clock, just as Hazlett was leaving, another caller hung up before he had a chance to pick up the receiver. He waited for a few more minutes. Perhaps the person would call again. He sat at Connor’s desk and kept thinking about

Dermot Marshall, and the more he thought, he decided to call him in the morning.

He stood up and was walking to the door when the phone rang again. He ran and picked up the receiver. There was a man’s muffled voice on the other end. “I know who murdered Thorton. Someone you’d least expect.” The line suddenly went dead. ***

“He’s put himself in a very precarious position,” said Archie. “If the killer knows your caller contacted you, you can be sure he’ll be hunting him down.”

Hazlett was nodding. “Which brings me to Dermot Marshall. To me, I had an image of Dermot Marshall for some reason. The caller also mentioned seeing a man in a black suit carrying a briefcase enter the Manor.

“I agree. Do you think we should visit now?”

“Not just yet. Let us call The Observer to see if they had any calls.” Hazlett dialled the newspaper’s number and asked for Malcolm Betts and was told he was on an interview. “Could I speak with Mr. Flynn then?”

Flynn answered after the first ring. “Mr. Flynn, it’s Winton Hazlett. We were wondering if you had any callers to your front-page story yesterday.”

“A few cranks, including one from someone who claimed he knew who the killer was but was waiting to see if the killer would give himself up. He hung up before I had a chance to ask him anything.”

“Sounds like the man who called us late last night.”

“We think it was a prank call. If our caller were looking for attention and seeing his name in the paper, he would have told us who he was.”

“I somehow don’t feel it was a prank call but a caller with a reason for making the call.”

“Keep us posted,” said Flynn as he hung up.

“Maybe Malcolm Betts may have found a lead. He’s

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one of those reporters who likes to scoop everyone else.”

Hazlett didn’t have long to wait. Betts phoned him just after lunch to tell him about an interview he had with Dermot Marshall. “Marshall admitted he had gone to the Manor to see Thorton that evening to have him sign a few documents for the PM. You probably already know this, but he left me feeling there was more he wasn’t telling.”

“You’ve heard about the caller who claimed he knew who the killer was?” said Hazlett.

“Flynn thinks it’s a prank call, but I don’t agree with him. I think we’ll hear from him again.”

Connor knocked and stuck his head inside. “Mr. Tickler would like a word with you, Inspector.”

Hazlett walked down to the cells. There was a dampness in the air as he walked past the cells and towards Tickler’s cell. It was dark, and Tickler was lying on his cot. He had made some paper airplanes and throwing them towards the cell bars. A couple of planes had made it through the bars and lay on the floor outside. Hazlett picked them up and threw them back at him.

Tickler sat up as soon as he saw Hazlett. “I’d like to make an offer to you, Inspector.” He paused and added, “Sitting in here is not worth trying to get what your friend owes me. If I walk away from that, what are the chances I can leave here a free man?”

“That will depend on the Chief Inspector. He’s due here tomorrow. If he thinks your information is worth it, you can expect a lighter sentence, even freedom. But that’s up to him and the Crown and how valuable your information is and, let me emphasize this, your promise to walk a straight line once your leave here.”

“I might also be useful to you and finding out who killed the MP. I have sources you don’t have.”

“Let’s see what the Chief Inspector says tomorrow. In the meantime, we’ll move you to a cell where there is

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more light.”

When he came up from the cells, he nodded to Pip to get the car ready. They drove out to see the Craddocks and Stan and his son. Michael saw them turn into the yard first and went to open the door.

“I have some good news for Stan and his son. I just had a meeting with the so-called boss of the criminal gang. He is prepared to forgive the money your son owes if he can walk away a free man.”

Stan smiled, and his face looked ten years younger.

“But that depends on what the Chief Inspector decides and the information this gentleman can provide about other criminal gangs that are causing a string of murders in southern England. We’ll know more by the time tomorrow.”

“Do you think one of the gangs killed the MP?” said Roy. “Probably not. He thinks it was done by someone local.”

Emma was in the kitchen, her face over a steaming pot. “We’re having chicken soup. You’re welcome to stay, Inspector.”

Hazlett always liked their kitchen with its thick linoleum patterned floor, the large window over the sink where Emma could see what was happening in the yard, its large iron stove and warming oven, the box of wood next to the stove and the long hardwood table her husband had inherited from his parents. Her best dishes were stacked in a cabinet next to the sink.

In some ways, Hazlett envied their lives as he passed one old deserted farmhouse after another. He craved peace. He was exhausted from all the thinking he underwent almost every day and decided to have Pip drop him off at his house.

He picked up the envelopes pushed under the front door and noted having a mailbox installed before the

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week was out. He entered, half-expecting to see Alma pop her head in from the kitchen and toss him his mail. The letter was from a finance company offering him a new TV on a monthly payment program. He threw it into the stove and lit it with some kindling. He didn’t feel like being alone and picked up the phone.

June answered. “I don’t feel like cooking tonight. What about getting together for supper at the Gladstone.” He could hear faintly as she talked to Leslie, who grabbed the phone.

“I’ll call Terry. It’ll be like old times after a mission,” said Leslie.

***

The Chief Inspector arrived shortly after eleven o’clock and held the mug of tea in both hands. “I had a long talk to the Crown. He’s not happy about giving Tickler a free pass. But I got him to agree that if Tickler can pinpoint the gangs and the killers that are causing the problem, complete with names and places, it will be a good deal for him and us. If we can put them out of business, the PM will be a lot happier, and so will everyone in southern England.”

They had Tickler brought up to Hazlett’s office after lunch. His handcuffs were taken off, and he sipped on the tea Connor had given him. He looked at Hammerson. “Do we have a deal or not?”

He was clean-shaven now and had washed and was dressed in a clean shirt.

“It depends on how accurate and complete your information is. But I must also tell you that the Crown is insisting that you spend a year in prison. But I feel if your information can lead to many convictions, I’m prepared to get your time in prison reduced to zero. So what do you say?”

The afternoon sun streamed through the windows,

and Tickler bowed his head. He was not quite what he wanted, but he also knew he wouldn’t be spending 25 years behind bars. He glanced at the pictures of Hazlett’s Lancaster crew on the panelled wall behind Hazlett. In some ways, he envied Hazlett.

After a few moments, he nodded. “When do we start?”

“Right now, if you have a mind. We’ll ask Connor to take down all names and where we can find these gentlemen, as well as any hideouts they might have. Agreed?”

Tickler nodded and started with names and places. Connor was having a hard time keeping up, and the Chief Inspector was smiling and patting Tickler on the back.

Hazlett left them to take a call from Dermot Marshall. “A head’s up, Inspector. I had an interview with The Observer, in which I told the reporter that I had visited Somerset Manor the evening he was killed. “

“Thank you for letting us know.” He put the phone down and looked up to see Belinda come into the station. She was carrying a small bag of bird seeds and held it up for him to see. She shared a smile with one of the constables and looked slyly at Hazlett. She was wearing a miniskirt and a low-cut blouse and walked with a bounce into his office.

“I’d like to have a chat with you,” she said.

“Then let’s go for a walk. I always enjoy talking most when I’m walking with someone special.”

She smiled at him and took his arm. They wandered down the main street and into the park, where they sat on one of the benches. “I need some advice,” she said, throwing some seeds to the pigeons. “I can’t go to my father, who thinks I’m a disgrace to the family.” She paused and then blurted, “Dermot Marshall, my father’s chief of staff, has asked me if we could become romantic friends. I didn’t know what to tell him and thought you

might tell me what I should do. I’m not really attracted to him, but no one else seems interested in me since Alex died.”

“I sympathize with you, Belinda. You’re a very pretty young lady but feel lost without Alex. It’s stopping you from finding someone new. My suggestion is if you feel attracted to Mr. Marshall, they give it a try. But if you really aren’t, set your sights on someone else.”

Belinda sat back on the bench and emptied her bag of seeds around her. The park was warm, and several parents and their children were picnicking on the grounds around them. Some of the boys played a game that resembled rugby. Young men and their girlfriends strolled down the pathways.

“It’s just that I think my father would be happy for me to be seeing someone he could depend on. But when I compare him with Alex, he falls far short.”

Hazlett tipped his hat. “I think you’ve really already made up your mind. That is the path you should follow.”

She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. “You seem to know what I’m thinking.”

When he returned, Hammerson had called his office with the names and location of two gangs and had everyone arrested.

Chapter Seventeen

Hazlett picked up the phone. It was Connor. “There’s been a murder, Inspector. The victim lives a short distance from Somerset Manor.”

“Have Pip pick me up. I’ll be waiting outside my door for him.”

He arrived to find Archie already at the murder scene. “Have a couple of constables meet us at the home of the victim,” said Hazlett.

Pip opened the front door for him, and they were off in seconds, arriving at the murder scene 20 minutes later. June and Leslie were waiting for him outside. “It’s a middle-aged man in his late 40s, stabbed in the heart. Dr. Culver was bent over the body and taking samples of his blood and from the trail of blood on the carpet.

“Not good, Winton,” said Dr. Culver. “He was stabbed in the heart, which was already diseased, and in his neck.”

“Time of death?”

“As a rough guess, I’d say around midnight.”

The photographer from The Observer was admitted to take pictures of the body and the floor where he was stabbed. “Take the blood trail to outside as well.”

Betts arrived a few minutes later and waited for Hazlett to brief him.

Denis Evans, the coroner, entered a few minutes lat-

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er to examine the body and the stains in the carpet before nodding to Dr. Culver that he could move the body. Two men from the hospital were waiting outside and entered to place his body on a stretcher. Hazlett noticed something on the floor where the body had lain. He knelt to pick up a photograph covered in blood. There was also a negative beneath it. He slid them into a paper bag and passed it to Archie. In the meantime, June was overseeing two constables who were dusting the place for fingerprints. She saw them out with orders to get them processed as soon as possible. She knelt on the doorstep and saw a familiar heel print. It matched the one they saw at the Manor and drew Hazelett’s attention to it. The two constables were ready to drive away when she waved one of them back.

“We need this set in a cast as well. This can wait until the Inspector is done.”

He and Archie examined the kitchen, where they saw a bowl of porridge half-eaten and two slices of toast that had not been buttered. Pots were strewn on the floor, and someone went to the bother of raiding his refrigerator. Everything from it was stacked on the counter next to it.

“He was obviously interrupted by his killer,” said Archie. He looked at June. “Get the remaining constable to fingerprint this area as well.”

“Why would someone want to kill a middle-aged man living alone in a small house like this?”

“We’ll probably find the answer in the photograph and a negative I found under the body,” said Hazlett. “My guess he slid it beneath his trousers, and it slid down when they took away his body.”

Hazlett, Archie and June slid out the picture first and then the negative. The fingerprints were waiting for them back at the station. They were badly stained with blood. Archie held up the negative to the light. “Not

sure, but it looks like a car.”

“We’ll get the lab to see if they can remove the blood on the photograph.”

June left with it and returned a few minutes later, waving it at them. “I also got them to print the negative and enlarge the picture as much as possible.”

She laid it on Hazlett’s desk. Both Archie and Hazlett could see it was a car close to the front door of the Manor.

“I think we’ve found our mystery caller,” said Hazlett. He turned it over and saw five words written on it: I saw what you did.

“My guess he was attempting to blackmail the killer and called us in advance in case the killer decided to murder him and that the picture would lead us to his killer.”

“Maybe the enlarged picture will tell us more,” said June.

Pip already has the name of their next-door neighbour and the name of the victim,” said Archie. “The victim’s name was Ernest Billings, and his next-door neighbour is Dick Matheson. I’ll send Pip there to talk to the Mathesons and find out if anyone on the street saw someone enter Billings’ home.”

***

Madeline Matheson opened the door. Pip smiled. “My name is Detective Pip Walker with Gladstonbury Constabulary. I talked to your husband earlier today. I’d like to chat with you both if you have the time. It would help us find out who killed your neighbour.”

Madeline opened the door, led him into their kitchen, and called her husband to come in from the backyard. “Please sit while I put the kettle on. “ She was wearing a yellow apron with roses embroidered on it. Her hair was long, and her dark eyes tended to look you over.

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Dick Matheson spotted him immediately. “You’re the detective I talked to earlier.”

Pip smiled again. “We were wondering if you saw someone enter Mr. Billings’ home earlier last night or early this morning.”

“Just the paperboy, but that was early last night. Ernie was very particular about his paper.” Dick Matheson was wearing a brown sweater with an army emblem on it. He was in his early 40s and had dark brown hair with streaks of grey .“What about days earlier?”

“There was some well-dressed chap who knocked on Ernie’s door, but Ernie was out. He looked like a salesman or someone like that.”

“Did he leave his name?”

“Not with me. But I did see him slip his card beneath Ernie’s door.”

Madeline placed them all a mug of tea and sat down with them. “Ernie was a quiet chap. Other than talking about the weather or our gardens, he didn’t talk to us much.”

“What about lady friends?”

Madeline shook her head,” said Madeline. “His wife left him eleven years ago, and ever since then, he’s had it in for women.”

“Unless they visited him in the middle of the night,” said Dick.

Madeline swatted her husband. “He’s just joking, Pip.”

“One last question,” he said, sipping on his tea. “Who is the biggest busybody on the street?”

Dick laughed. “Let me answer that, Pip. It’s Mrs. Glynn. Her husband died three years ago, probably from listening to her gossip. If anyone who might be able to tell you more, it would be Gladys Glynn.”

Pip finished his tea and stood. They both led him to the door. Dick shook his hand and pointed to Mrs.

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Glynn’s door.

Pip knocked on her door and waited. After three minutes, he knocked again, this time much louder. An older woman in her seventies shuffled to the door. Her hair was white, but her blue eyes glistened in the light of the sun. There were deep wrinkles on the corner of her mouth and her eyes.

“My name is Detective Pip Walker. I’d like a few minutes of your time.”

“May I ask what this is about?”

“Your neighbour, Mr. Billings, was found dead this morning. He was murdered.”

Mrs. Glynn’s eyes sparkled. “Murdered? I heard that he was found dead, not murdered.”

“I’m sorry to say that he was murdered. We are asking his neighbours if they saw anyone enter his house this morning. Someone new, not one of his neighbours.”

“May I ask who informed you of his death?”

“We do not know at this point. Someone called the radio station and told them and then hung up without identifying himself.”

“So it was a he.” She paused, “please step inside and join me for tea. I don’t have visitors very often, and the house is in a mess. Go into the parlour, and I’ll be with you in a minute or two.”

She left, and Pip could hear the sounds of pots and dishes being moved. She entered a few minutes later with a tray with two mugs and two small plates with large pieces of chocolate with white frosting. She laid them on the small table in front of her sofa that Victorian look. “During the war, it was almost impossible to get enough sugar and eggs to make a proper cake. Fortunately, we were away from the bombing.” She paused for a few seconds before adding, “my husband died in the war.”

“Getting back to Mr. Billings, did you happen to

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see a stranger enter your street earlier today or even last night?”

She looked at him and nodded. “There was a welldressed gentleman who came in a car. He knocked at Mr. Billings’ door and went away when no one answered the door. Later, just as I was getting ready for bed, I happened to see someone, possibly the gentleman who came earlier. I saw the door open, but I didn’t wait to see when he left.”

“Around what time did you go to bed?”

“Eleven o’clock. I had just turned off the telly when I saw the lights of his car through my window.”

Pip finished the cake and licked his lips to get all the frosting. She left him and reappeared with another slice wrapped in a piece of wax paper. “You’re such a nice young man. Then, after a pause, “I rarely see my two daughters anymore. I hope you will visit me again one day.”

Back at the station, Pip shared his cake with Tommy Thomas after telling Hazlett what he had learned.

“The time was around when Dr. Culver placed his death. So we know the killer was well dressed. Likely a professional of some kind,” said Hazlett rambling on.

“She was curious about who called in the death?”

“Found out from Malcolm Betts. It seems Billings’ paperboy found the door open and went inside to get his money and saw him lying on the floor in a pool of blood. He called the station and got scared and called the paper.”

June came in with the fingerprints report. “We have a match. The same prints were found in the Manor. The only problem is that they don’t match any of the prints we took.”

“It’s someone new, someone we do not know, someone who knew Mr. Thorton that we do not know about.”

“We’ve exhausted the list. “Go back to Thorton’s

secretary.”

“We already have, and that’s everything. I went through the list with her.”

Hazlett recognized Connor’s knock. He entered with the enlarged picture of a man and the car. Hazlett took out his magnifying glass and went over the main areas of the image. The individual’s face was fuzzy, and so was the licence plate. The picture had been taken just as the sun was setting.

“Belinda told me she went to see him that night, but his door was locked, and he didn’t answer her knock. She felt he no longer wanted to talk to her because of a tiff they had earlier in the day.” Then after a pause, “call her and ask her to join us.”

Belinda arrived an hour later. She was looking brighter and happier than he had seen her before. “Thank you for our chat, Inspector. It woke me up to all the possibilities that life has to offer. I’m not interested in marrying anyone. I loved Alex too much for that. Maybe someday, just not now.”

“Right now, Belinda, we would like you to remember the names of all the people Alex dealt with.”

“I think you have all the names he mentioned in our conversations. But I’ll give it a lot of thought and come back to you. One thing more, before I go, my father is starting to treat me as a grown woman.”

***

Chief Inspector Hammerson called to tell him that they were successful in rounding up the gangs in southern England, with convictions in every case. The Crown is starting to change his mind about Tickler, who made it all possible. While we’re on the subject of Tickler, let him know that I will be visiting you early next week with a decision from the Crown.”

“I’ll let him know before the end of the day. I’m sure

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he’ll appreciate it. At the moment, we’re knee deep with another murder on our hands. We believe both murders are connected and hope to solve both before you come.”

He buzzed Connor. “I’d like to have a chat with our favourite prisoner in my office, and I’d like you and June to sit in on our conversation.”

Tickler looked like a new man. He had shaved and looked handsome. He crossed his legs as he sat down and folded his hands in his lap. He was wearing a new shirt and smiled when he talked to someone.

“The Chief Inspector will be here early next week with a decision from the Crown about your request. He seemed quite hopeful. Your information landed many of your old colleagues in jail waiting for trial. In the meantime, I’d like you to know there’s been another murder committed by the person who killed the Cabinet Minister, whose ID remains a mystery to us. Your thoughts?”

“I’d pull together everyone involved and have a meeting in which you’ll announce the name of the killer. That will make things happen. Look for people who suddenly need to leave town for one thing or another.”

Hazlett nodded. “I hoped to do that, but your advice makes sense. But now, Detective Carton would like a few words with you.”

“Should you be released by the Crown, do you plan to connect with the lady you were with?”

“I hadn’t thought that far. “I’d like to be with her again and my daughter. But I treated her pretty bad when I was captured.”

“For your information, her husband had a mental breakdown when she left him and is still recovering in hospital. She is back with her family and needs to be left alone for some time.”

“What about my daughter?”

“You lost her when you tried to use her and your daughter as a shield.”

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He bent his head. “Strange about life. You never really know the outcome when you do things in a panic.” He was nodding to himself. “Perhaps better if I entered a new life away from here and maybe after ten or 20 years, contact her then if only to find out my daughter turned out.”

“One thing more, your associates. They’re facing prison terms.”

“Can anything be done?”

“Not likely unless you can come up with an idea. And even if they are released, they will not be permitted to associate with each other. But don’t get your hopes up.”

Chapter Eighteen

Hazlett grabbed the phone on the first ring. “It’s Dermot Marshall, Inspector. The PM would like you to come to his residence for a meeting. For your information, we will be returning to London at the end of the month.”

“Do you know what this is about?”

“I’m not sure. He would like to see you in the morning if you are free.”

“I’ll be there. Should I bring along one of my detectives?”

“I should come alone.”

Marshall’s voice was colder and more professional than usual. He glanced at the picture to see if it resembled Marshall in any way. Perhaps the clothes. He grabbed his magnifying glass and studied it again, but it didn’t help.

He reached for the telephone and called Terry and Leslie.”What do you say about another supper at The Gladstone and a chat? I fear I’m losing my bearings and need to be put on track again.”

He cleaned his desk and stared out the window. He was failing, and he knew it. He was also concerned about the PM, and why he wanted to talk to him. He tried to put it out of his mind. Terry and Leslie always were great

to have around him when they were in a tight spot over Berlin, and no one knew if they were going to make it back.

Hugh Gatewood spotted him getting out of his car and walking to the door. He went over to greet him at the door. “Twice in one week, Inspector. I will have to put that down in my book of firsts.”

“I’m seeing my old Lancaster mates. I haven’t been paying much attention to them lately.”

Gatewood led him into the dining room and into a corner where they could have a private conversation. He sat back and ordered a tea and looked at the entrance to see them enter. Leslie and Terry arrived together and spotted him. They sat down, one on each side of him.

“It’s getting to feel like old times, Flight. Anything up?”

“Not really. I feel we’re flying over Berlin, and the flack is all around us. And you two could always be counted on.”

“What’s up?” said Gibson. “I assume this is not for June’s ears.”

“Not necessarily. We’ve run into a blank wall. We’ve fingerprinted everyone who Thorton knew or did business with him, and none of their fingerprints match those we have on file.”

“Maybe the person you’re looking for is out of town,” said Carton.

Hazlett shook his head. My instincts tell me the killer is local and probably murdered the person who saw him at the Manor. We do know a well-dressed man entered the victim’s house around eleven o’clock last night. No one saw him leave. Probably because he waited until everyone on the street was asleep.”

“Do you remember,” said Carton, “when our target was clouded over, what did you do?”

“We bombed the secondary target.” Hazlett nodded

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and smiled.

“I’m convinced the only reason we survived all those bombing raids was that you had a knack of guessing what the Germans would do next. I think you should put that to work as well,” said Gibson.

“I’ve already done it. I have a constable babysitting the victim’s house every day and night. The victim had a picture of him at the Manor, and he failed to get it the first time around. My guess is that he’ll make another attempt to find the picture.”

“You’re still the old Flight that helped us get back in one piece,” said Gibson. “I know I wouldn’t have made it through all those raids if it hadn’t been for you.”

They ordered a bottle of wine to go with their meal and toasted lost comrades.

The ringing telephone woke Hazlett. It was Connor. “The constable who stayed all night in the house had a visitor last night.”

“Great.”

“Not so great. The constable tripped while trying to get close to him, and the killer shone a light on him and ran out of the house as soon as he saw it was a constable and that he had walked into a trap.”

“Was he able to see him running to his car?”

“Yes, and he took a picture of his car as it was leaving. Hopefully, there was enough light from the street light to get a view of his licence plate.”

“I’ll be in shortly. Have Tommy pick me up in a halfhour.”

Constable Cavel, who had encountered the killer, was waiting for him. “I’m sorry I let you down, Inspector. I didn’t see the chair I bumped into.”

“It can’t be helped. We believe the killer will come back to find a picture to tie him to the cabinet minister.

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He wants that badly and probably is in a panic to get his hands on the photograph. He’ll come back for it.” He looked at the constable’s eyes and added: “I want you to go back to the house and spend the next few days there. Night and day. Bring enough food to last you a few days. And be ready for him the next time. Pip will drive you there and help you settle in.”

Pip was waiting for him when he left Hazlett’s office and led him to his car. “Sit in front with me.”

Cavel’s face was still strained as he looked at Pip. “I was scared I was going to be discharged, but the Inspector not only gave me a second chance but put his trust in me. He even suggested a few things that would help me for my next encounter.”

“Now you know why we all like him. He just makes all of us better at what we do.”

They arrived about 15 minutes later. Pip unlocked the door and passed him the key. They went inside and inspected the parlour and the kitchen. “It’s exactly as I left it. I put the chair on its side. It’s not been moved. As you can see, you can’t get around it without moving it.”

Pip patted him on the back. “You’ll do just right. Let’s check upstairs.” It too was exactly as they had left it.” They started down the stairs. “It means he’ll be back tonight or tomorrow night. But he probably wait longer than that.”

Pip checked the kitchen for food and lay one of the table chairs across the back door. “Just in case he thinks he’ll be smart and tries to enter is a different way.”

Cavel shook his head. “No wonder you’re a detective. You know everything.”

“Hardly, but what I know comes from Connor and Archie.” Then, after a pause, “one last thing. I want to introduce you to is a grand old lady by the name of Glynn. She’s also known as the street’s biggest busybody.”

They left, locked the door behind them and walked

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down the street to her home, across the street. Pip caught her, putting back her curtain and smiled. “She’s looking at us now.”

Pip knocked at her door, which opened seconds later. “I saw you coming with a constable.” She opened the door and placed them in her parlour.

“This is my associate, Constable Cavel. He’s going to be in the house for a few days.”

“Detective Pip hasn’t introduced me. My name is Gladys Glynn. People on the street call me Mrs. G. You can, too,” she said as she left to put on the kettle.

“She knows about everything that happens on the street, so treat her kindly,” Pip whispered to him. “She’s also lonely and doesn’t get many visitors.”

Mrs. G returned a few minutes later with two ham sandwiches and steaming mugs of tea.

“I’ve asked Mrs. G if she could be our lookout and let us know if any stranger tried to enter the house,” said Pip.

“I would appreciate that, Mrs. G,” said Cavel. “How about for the past 24 hours?”

“There was one man who had a key and let himself in. He left almost as soon as he entered,” she said with a glint in her eye. “I’ve seen that walk before but can’t quite place it. I would know it again if I saw it.”

They left almost an hour later. “I could also learn a few things from you, Detective Pip. You make everyone you deal with feel important. How do you do it?”

“I don’t know. I just do it without thinking. But right now, I must get back to the station and take the Inspector to see the PM.” ***

At eleven o’clock, Hazlett was on his way to meet with the PM. Pip wheeled into the driveway at the PM’s summer residence. Hazlett told him to wait and walked

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through a floral arch and up five stairs to the residence entrance. A servant at the door opened it for him. “The Prime Minister is waiting for you, Inspector. Please follow me.”

They went down a long corridor, up a flight of stairs, and down another passage to the PM’s office, which overlooked his garden. It was in full bloom. A vase of freshly cut flowers brightened the room and gave off a special scent. The PM stood as he entered and shook his hand. “Thank you for coming, Inspector.”

The PM’s blue eyes looked washed out, and the grey hair on his face made him look haggard. He was wearing a black suit and a white shirt with a purple tie.

“How close are we with wrapping up Thorton’s murder?”

“We expect before the next day or two. We have someone in mind and are now gathering evidence.”

“I ask because we need to name a replacement for Thorton. We wanted to wait until his murderer was charged. But we can wait a few more days. It isn’t Marshall, is it?”

“He was under suspicion, but he is not who we have in mind.”

He looked out his window at the garden. “I should hate to lose him. He’s a bit stuffy but very capable. There’s another matter. Belinda. I owe you my sincere thanks. You’ve done more for her than her private school and all the doctors we’ve sent her to. She’s taken to feeding the birds in our garden.” He waved Hazlett to the window and pointed at her.

“She still misses Thorton. Talks about him every day. But since she’s chatted with you, she’s grown to accept it. Marshall proposed to her. I wasn’t happy about it but didn’t say anything. I let her do what she wanted. Thankfully after talking to you, she told him she wasn’t ready for marriage to anyone.”

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“I have to tell you that we could sense that he was attracted to her and perhaps in jealousy killed Thorton to get close to her.”

“He’s not that inventive,” said the PM with a smile. He opened the window and shouted and waved for Belinda to come in. She rose and walked slowly to the back door and smiled as soon as she saw Hazlett.

“He’s come to tell us that he will be charging Alex Thorton’s murderer in a couple of days.”

She sat down beside him and passed him a handful of birdseed. “Be sure to feed them on the way out.”

Hazlett smiled at her and reached out for her hand. “So you still have a key to the manor?”

“I did but I put it in his casket just before he was buried.”

Hazlett smiled at her again and turned back to the PM. “We will be holding a meeting of all of Mr. Thorton’s associates and people whom he did business and knew.” Then, after a pause, “I think it would give Belinda some closure if she attended.”

“I want to go,” Belinda said to her father, who nodded reluctantly.

“Thank you for coming to bring us the great news,” he said, sitting again. He looked at Belinda. “Show the Inspector to his car.”

Belinda grabbed him by his arm as they walked down the corridor and stairs to the doorway, stopping at the floral arch to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you for bringing me back to my senses.”

***

“Archie’s entertaining your star prisoner,” said Connor. Hazlett smiled and opened his door to see Tickler making a point to Archie with his hands. They both looked up. “Oscar has a proposition he’d like to make and asked to fly it by me. But it’s his to tell.”

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Hazlett sat back in his chair. “It better be good if you’re out of your cell without my permission.”

Archie offered them a cigarette and lit it for them. Tickler nodded. “The first thing I plan to do when I leave here is to change my name. Any suggestions?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“I was thinking about a classy name like Boyington and a new first name like Darby. Darby Boyington. What do you think?” said Tickler, letting out the smoke slowly from his cigarette.

Hazlett didn’t respond immediately. Archie could tell the Inspector was saying the name over and over in his head. “Certainly, your criminal associates won’t recognize you by that name. And certainly, people will remember you as the guy with the classy name. It may get you the attention you may not want.”

“I’m not concerned about that anymore. In fact, I think it may help me in a business I would like to start.”

“What kind of business?” There was a wary tone in Hazlett’s voice.

“There’s really no place a convict can go after being let go where a convict can go to help them get their lives back together again. Not everyone has the strength to put their past behind them, regardless of what you guys might think.”

“I think he’s onto something, Inspector,” said Archie after Tickler was taken back to his cell.

Hazlett didn’t comment. Archie could tell something about Tickler’s presentation bothered him. “You obviously don’t agree.”

“He’s a born con man, Archie. Now you can how young Ashley got suckered into a card game that was stacked against him. He’s a master at it, I give him that.”

Archie was scratching his head and looking sheepish.

“He’s setting us up for something. For what? I’m not

quite sure. So be on your guard and make sure the cell guards to be on their guard as well.”

Chapter Nineteen

Chief Inspector Hammerson was waiting for Hazlett. He sat in front of Hazlett’s desk and was reading The Observer. “There’s a front-page editorial entitled: Murders that go unpunished.”

He folded the paper and slid it across the desk for Hazlett. “I’m afraid I have bad news for Mr. Tickler. I feel a bit bad about it, considering the help he gave us. I’m here to tell him he won’t be leaving jail anytime soon. We might as well get it over with. Perhaps Connor might bring him to us.”

“I thought it was pretty decided. What happened?”

“It appears there is an outstanding warrant for him from the early 1950s for the murder of a constable in London. We want him back to send him to trial in London.” Hazlett left and joined Connor in the cells. Connor unlocked his cell door. “The Chief Inspector is here and wants to see you.”

“I hope it’s good news. Did you tell him what we discussed yesterday?”

“Didn’t have a chance.”

Hammerson stood and motioned Tickler to take the chair next to him. Connor arrived with a plate of scones and tea. Tickler’s eyes brightened at the sight of the scones and placed the plate on his lap. He bit on the scone and took a mouthful of tea. “Well, Chief Inspec-

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tor?”

Hammerson cleared his throat. “Bad news, I’m afraid. It appears there is an outstanding warrant on you for the murder of a constable a decade ago.”

“I thought charges were no longer valid after ten years.”

Hammerson shook his head. “I’m afraid not. You are still an open case as far as they’re concerned. They have the last word. We do not.”

“So what happens to me?”

“You will be taken back to London, where you will wait for your trail.”

“You promised me.” The anger in Tickler’s eyes could set a fire.

Hammerson’s face reddened. “I made it very clear that it was not up to me but the Crown.”

The plate of scones slipped off his lap. The plate broke into small shards. In less than five seconds, Tickler reached down, picked up a pointed shard, stood, grab the Chief Inspector and point thr shard against the Chief Inspector’s throat. “Make one move, and he dies. Not you or anyone else is going to make a fool out of me.”

Hazlett was about to buzz Connor but put both hands on his desk. “How do you plan to escape with a station full of constables trained to deal with situations like this?”

“I want you to order your desk sergeant to go down to the cells and release my associates and bring them up to your office. If some smartass tries anything, I have nothing to lose by making sure he never leaves here again.”

The Chief Inspector’s eyes bulged, and he gasped for air.

“It’ll be a lot worse for him if I don’t see my people in the next minute or two.”

“It takes time to got down and unlock the cells. It

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can’t be done in two or three minutes no matter how fast they try.”

Hazlett looked out his side window to see if a passing constable happened to look his way. He leaned forward. “You’d be smart if that shard does not harm the Chief Inspector in any way. All bets are off in that case.”

A few minutes, Tickler’s four associates filed in. “That will be all, Connor,” said Hazlett.

Tickler and smiled at his associates. Turing to Hazlett, he added: “We’re going to going to leave here in a few minutes. Do precisely what I tell you.” He turned to Hazlett. “And that applies to you. We want one of your fastest cars parked in front of the station and with a tank full of petrol. Your Chief Inspector will accompany us. If any attempt is made to follow us, we will kill him and throw his body out on the road. If you follow my instructions, we will open the door, and he will leave us without harm.”

“Understood.”

“Next, you will lead us out of the station and see us off. If there is any indication that we are about to be prevented from leaving in any way, two of my associates will make sure he never lives the tale.” Then, after a pause, “call your desk sergeant again and issue the orders.”

Hazlett buzzed Connor. “We need a car with a full tank for the Chief Inspector and I to take these gentlemen to the airport. Please buzz when the car is ready.”

A few minutes later, they filed out. The Chief Inspector was flanked by two of Tickler’s minions as they slowly made their way to the car, where Pip was standing and ready to open the door for them. Tickler slid behind the wheel, and the Chief Inspector and two of Tickler’s men sat with him. The other sat with Tickler in front. Tickler turned the key, and the engine roared to life. Hazlett, who kept shaking his head, stood with Pip and watched

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them disappear into traffic.

Connor met him at the door as he entered. “I sensed that something was wrong and knew it the moment I saw you standing with Pip as they drove away.” I’ve taken the liberty of having Tommy go up the road a piece to see where they were going and radio another car further down the road to take up their trail. What happened, and why is the Chief Inspector with them? I knew something was up when you buzzed me, rather than tell me in person about getting a car ready for you.”

“Tickler threaten to slit the Chief Inspector’s throat with a shard from the plate you used for the scones.”

“They won’t get away with this.”

“Perhaps not, because of your foresight. It may work. All we can do now is wait. Tickler said they would drop off the Chief Inspector once they felt confident we had not followed them. Hopefully, they’ll live up to their bargain. I had no other option – not with the Chief Inspector’s life in the balance. Once we have him back, I will make it a personal crusade to hunt them down and put them away for the rest of their lives.” There was a hardness in Hazlett’s voice Connor had not heard before. Archie knocked and entered a few minutes later. “We got the news from Connor. Please, don’t feel it’s your fault. I was the one who fell for his line. I believed everything he told us. You were somewhat dubious, as I recall.”

“Talk is getting us nowhere, Archie. Get Connor to contact Pip and tell us where they’re heading. And whether he’s picked up the Chief Inspector.”

***

One of Tickler’s men kept a steady watch on the road behind them. “There was a car behind us, but it’s turned away.”

“How long was he following us?” said Tickler.

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“Only for about ten minutes. He didn’t come from the police station but an off-road after we left Glastonbury.”

Tickler smiled. “We’ll drop off our guest down the road where there are no houses or farms nearby.” Tickler stopped the car about five minutes later. “This is a good place as any.” He scanned the tall, dark evergreens that encroached the road and smiled.

They took him out, leaving him standing by himself in the shadows. Tickler looked at him his rearview mirror and smiled. He always keeps his word, he thought, good and the bad. He recalled the young man who escaped paying him and grit his teeth.

They turned onto a side road and headed west. “Keep your eye on any car we might borrow in the first village we come to. We’ll hide this car in a field and retrace our steps, heading east.”

The afternoon sun was beginning to cast shadows. They had passed through four towns before stopping. They then went back the way they came, looking for a car that would suit their needs. It was in the third village they spotted the car they wanted. It was left in the driveway by its owner. They waited until dark. Tickler and one of his men, who had a gift for stealing cars, stayed in the shadows as they crept to the car. His associate opened the door and felt for the wires leading to the starter. He put the car in neutral as Tickler waved the others to come and help them push the car to the road. They entered and held their breaths until the engine roared to life.

“I want one of you to follow us in the police car and look for a place where we can hide it.” They started the car and drove away as quietly as possible. Thirty minutes later, they found an old side road that was no longer in use. Ticker and guided the police car in. They parked it under some low-hanging branches, and added some other branches to cover the rear. Fifteen minutes later,

they were on the road again and starting to sing some of the songs from better days.

Once the car was out of sight, Pip returned to the highway and headed north. It was getting dark, and he put his headlights on high. He drove slowly in case they had stopped. Connor’s message over the phone was to be on the lookout for the Chief Inspector. They might dump him anywhere. Black clouds made the twilight even darker, and lightning and thunder lit the sky and road ahead. Ten minutes later, he saw something on the road. The rain had started, blurring his vision, and he slowed the car to a crawl, playing with the headlight beams to get a better view.

A body suddenly came into view.

It was a man, lying face down on the road with its arms and legs stretched out. He stopped his car and found his flashlight. He kept the lights on as he left the car and went to examine the body. It was the Chief Inspector.

Pip helped him sit up and then stand. He walked him to the car with the rain beating against their faces. He opened the car door had him sit on the passenger’s side. It took him a few minutes to turn the car around. He called the station on the radio on the way back.

“I need to talk to the Inspector. I’m on my way back with the Chief Inspector.”

Hazlett took over the radio. “What shape is he in?”

“Not sure. I found him lying facedown on the road. It’s pouring hard here, and I think I should take him directly to the hospital.”

Pip sped down the road until he reached the main highway into Gladstonbury. Hazlett and Connor were waiting for him at the hospital. Hazlett opened the door, helped Hammerson out, and guided his footsteps inside,

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where an orderly was waiting for them with a wheelchair. Mason Culver took over once he was processed and took him to an examination room.

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Hammerson managed to say in a gruff voice.

Dr. Culver ignored him and examined him all over before a nurse took blood tests. “He appears to be fine. Just a bit shook up from his ordeal. But I think he should spend the night with us to be on the safe side.” Dr. Culver was wearing a white jacket with a red-striped tie and white shirt below it. He had a sandy-coloured forelock that kept dancing on and off his forehead as he bent and straightened.

“Hazlett,” said Hammerson in a weaker voice, “be on the lookout until he’s safely put away again. He has it in for you and is planning something. Same for your friend, Stan and his son.”

He closed his eyes and, a few minutes later, was asleep.

“This took more out of him than he’s prepared to admit. He’s no longer young and won’t bounce back the way he used to. Check with me in the morning to see if he’s well enough to leave.” Then, “for your ears only, I detected some irregular heartbeats. If he goes into arrhythmia, he could be here for quite a while.”

Hazlett and Connor drove back in silence. As he was getting out, he waved to Connor to join him. “I need a drink, and I think you could use one, too. And on top of everything, I need to warn Stan and Ashley that Tickler has escaped and might be on the lookout for them.”

Stan was waiting for him at the door and opened it before Hazlett took out his key.

“Stan, I think you remember, Sargeant Connor Moreton. I’ve asked him to join us for a drink.” Hazlett walked to his liquor cabinet in the parlour, where he looked up at the row of plates Alma had placed from dif-

ferent places, including one from Canada, when Hazlett accompanied the Queen and Prince Phillip there. Hazlett thought of her, as he always did when he saw the plates. He bent down and grabbed a bottle of Scotch and brought it into the kitchen. Stan had already got down the glasses. He took the bottle and poured each of them a shot, and sat down. “I have two toasts, gentlemen. The first is to my wife, Alma. May she rest in peace.”

They raised their glasses and took their first sip. “The second is for Chief Inspector Hammerson. May he recover from his ordeal and live to be a hundred.” They raised their glasses and drank the rest of the whiskey. Stan poured them another shot.

“This one’s for you and your good son, Stan.” They sipped and lowered their glasses. “What’s this about, Flight?”

“Bad news, Stan. They’ve escaped. Every one of them. The ring leader made it clear he was not done with either you and Ashley or me. So we still must be on our guard 24 hours every day.”

“What happened?” said Stan, gulping down his drink.

Hazlett told him what happened and how they were able to escape. We’ve alerted every constabulary from here to London to be on the lookout for them and that they were armed and dangerous.”

“We’ve already had one report of a stolen car and where it was stolen.”

“Knowling Tickler, Connor, send a couple more cars up there but in the opposite direction as well. I remember when we first were able to catch him. That’s what he did.”

Connor nodded. “May I use your telephone?”

Hazlett nodded. Connor left the table, called the station, and ordered them to send a couple of cars after them in both directions.”

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In the morning, Connor called Hazlett while he was having breakfast. “There were reports of a car speeding through several villages in the middle of the night. All reports were in the opposite direction.”

Hazlett smiled and told Stan to be on the lookout for them. “It would be like them to head back to Gladstonbury, thinking this is the last place we would think of finding him.

“He has one weakness.”

He called Connor. “Mr. Tickler loves his baby, and I’ll bet he’ll come back for her sooner or later. Send three constables to guard the house. One for inside and two outside. Tell them to keep the door locked and not let anyone inside unless the constable recognizes them.”

Chapter Twenty

“I’m looking for Jennifer,” said the bearded man at the door, who sent shivers up her back.

“She’s not here,” said Laura Simpson.

“Where is she?” said Tickler.

Laura looked at his eyes and turned away. He grabbed her head and held it in both his hands. “Where is she?”

Laura knew exactly who he was and struggled to get free from him. He tightened his grip on her head and began to squeeze it. “You’ll either tell me, or I’ll kill you.”

He loosened his grip and took out a knife. “Now, for the last time, where is she?”

“She doesn’t want to see you. Leave her alone.”

“I will as soon as she gives me our baby.” He looked at her eyes and saw the fear in them. “All I want is our baby, and she’ll never see me ever again.”

Tickler pushed her aside and went into the kitchen. Then, up the stairs to the bedroom. Tickler looked into the crib next to her bed. Nothing. She had taken the baby with her wherever she was. He descended and saw Laura replacing the telephone receiver.

“You were calling her. Where is she?”

He shook her until she started to cry. “She’s at the hospital to see her husband.”

Tickler hit her in the face with his fist. Laura staggered before falling to the floor. “If I find she is not there,

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I will come back and kill you.”

He slammed the door as he left, and she saw him drive away with his associates. She called the constabulary. “I need to talk to the Inspector. My name is Laura Simpson. That crazed gangster has just left on his way to the hospital. He wants to steal Jennifer’s baby.”

Connor told her to stay put and that he would send two constables there to protect her. He then went into Hazlett’s office. “You were right, Inspector. Tickler is on the way to the hospital to take Jennifer Perkins’ baby from her.”

“I’ll call Agnes and let her know.

“She left a few minutes ago with her baby and husband. In the meantime, I’ll lock the door and tell everyone to be on alert for him.”

“We’ll send a squad to you in the next few minutes.”

He left his office. “Have a squad sent to the hospital as soon as possible and be on the lookout for Mr. Tickler. Now, where’s Archie?”

“Bring revolvers for both of us and have two constables join us.”

“What’s happening, Inspector?”

“Tickler. He’s on his way to steal his baby. He won’t find the baby there and will go back to Perkins’ house to get her.”

No one talked all the way there. As they rounded the corner from Perkins’ house, they could see no sign of the constables. There was another car in their driveway. They parked their vehicle a short distance away.

“You two will remain here and show yourself only when you see them come out of the house. You may need to use your pistols. But only if necessary.”

Hazlett and Archie walked along the sidewalk and entered a driveway next to Perkins’ home. There was a fence between the two properties. Archie looked around and found an empty nail keg they could stand on. Ha-

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zlett went first. It was shaky and showed signs of collapsing at any minute, but he was able to put one leg over and grab hold of the fence railing to hang onto when he lifted his other leg over. Archie was over the top and fell on him. They rose slowly and whisked the grass away from their trousers.

They crept up to the kitchen window and peered inside. Hazlett could see Tickler and two of his associates talking to Jennifer Perkins and her sister-in-law. Jennifer held her baby close and resisted any attempt by him to take it away from her. She was crying, and he slapped her. She reeled but kept her arms around the baby as she fell to the floor. Her husband was in the other room with Tickler’s associates. He was slowly understanding what was happening.

Hazlett motioned to Archie. They crept up to the back door and withdrew their guns. On the count of three, they kicked open the door. Tickler grabbed his baby and stood there with his mouth open. Hazlett pointed his gun at his head.

“You won’t shoot. You might kill the child. I am slowly backing away. No one will shoot. We will leave here, and you will never see us again.”

As he backed into the other room, Perkins saw what was happening and grabbed him from behind. Tickler’s associates tried to pull Perkins away, but he had his hands around Tickler’s neck and was slowly choking him to death.

“Take the baby,” said Tickler. Jennifer grabbed her baby and ran behind Archie with the baby in her arms. Perkins suddenly swung him around and tightened his grip.

Tell your men to surrender.“ Hazlett saw the two constables from the front window and waved for them to enter. They quickly disarmed his henchmen, and Hazlett joined Perkins and got to gradually loosen his grip.

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Archie moved quickly to put him in handcuffs.

“Call Connor and have them send the wagon to take them back to jail with instructions to wound any of them who tried to escape. We will follow in our car.”

***

“We’ve got good news, Chief Inspector,” said Hazlett. “Tickler and his gang are now back in our cells. This time none of them will be permitted to leave their cells at any time.”

Hammerson’s blue eyes brightened as Hazlett recounted how they were able to recapture Tickler and his gang. “As soon as I can get out of here, I intend to pay them a visit and tell them that I will be an old man by the time they leave prison for their crimes, not to mention what they did to me.”

There was a faint knock on the door, and Mason Culver entered. He used his stethoscope to check Hammerson’s chest and looked up at Hazlett. “His blood tests were much better this morning, we’re happy to say. He’s still a little weak, but his heart is beating normally again.”

“When can I get released?” said the Chief Inspector. “Perhaps, tomorrow.”

Hammerson looked at Hazlett. “I suppose you called London about me.”

Hazlett shook his head. “That’s your story to tell.”

“How is your murder investigation proceeding?”

“Quite well. I plan to hold a meeting of everyone concerned with the murder and announce his killer.”

“Why not just go and handcuff him?”

“We’re waiting for you to name the killer and put the cuffs on him.”

Hammerson smiled. “You really know how to please an old man.” ***

Terry Carton was waiting for him when he returned.

“There’s talk that you plan to hold a meeting tomorrow night.” He paused. “I feel I haven’t been much help with you.”

“I should not say that. Actually, it was a remark you made that helped me solve it. Since Alma died, I find I need my old friends around me more than ever. In addition, you and Les were there for me in a big way when I was beginning to doubt myself. “

Carton sat back. Hazlett sensed there was something else he wanted to talk about. “It works both ways, Terry.”

“I know. It’s a delicate matter. I’ve been wondering about and didn’t feel I should bother you about when we were dealing with so many difficult things.” Carton’s boyish face had not changed much since their Lancaster days.

“It’s about the PM’s daughter. She’s absolutely smashing.” He held his breath as he waited for Hazlett’s reply.

“She is a very pretty young lady. The death of Alex Thorton has made her grow up faster than normal. She has a good heart.” He paused and then added, “what if I invite her for supper at The Gladstone? I would also let her know I would also be dining with June and Leslie, and another member of my Lancaster. Let’s see what she says.”

Hazlett found her number and called her. “It’s Hazlett, Belinda. I’m having dinner tonight at the Gladstone with Detective June Gibson, her husband and Terry Carton, another member of my Lancaster crew. I’d like you to join us.”

“She laughed. “ I look forward to seeing you.”

“Does Belinda know how you feel about her?”

“No, but I suspect she knows someone is but has the grace not to ask who.”

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Hazlett arrived first, then Carton and a few minutes later, June and Leslie Gibson. Hazlett introduced them and ordered drinks. Belinda came 15 minutes later and was escorted to their table.

“Leslie and Terry were members of my Lancaster crew.”

“We flew a lot of missions over Berlin and lived to tell the tale,” said Gibson.

“A lot of times, we weren’t sure we would make it back, but we did. Thanks to the Inspector, we became known as the lucky crew,” said Carton.

“I can believe it. It rescued me at the lowest time of my life.”

“How are you feeling now?” said June. “I know we were all rooting for you.”

Belinda smiled and turned to Terry.“How about you, Mr. Carton? Where is your beautiful wife?”

“I’m not married,” Carton stammered.

June poked Leslie and smiled. “Some lucky woman will get him one day,” she said. “Terry was the most handsome member of the crew. Don’t let him deny it.”

“I can believe it,” said Belinda, touching his hand. Then, after a pause, “do you take drugs, Mr. Carton.”

“Call me, Terry. My mother does. About drugs, I must say I have never been attracted to them. I need my head clear and at its best. I work in the City as an investment manager. Pretty boring stuff.”

“I used to take drugs, but since I met the Inspector, I have given them up entirely. We must get together one day to discuss my financial dealings.”

“I would be delighted. But I would like to have lunch or dinner with any day you might be free before then.”

“I’m free tomorrow.” Belinda pushed back her hair and smiled at him. “What about breakfast. And if the Inspector does not need of you, perhaps you would take me on a drive in the country.” Belinda looked at Hazlett,

who shook his head.

Connor was the first person to enter his office. “He’s gone, Inspector. Just gone. No one seems to know how. When we checked his cell awhile ago, his door was unlocked, and he was nowhere to be found.”

He followed Connor to his cell. Hazlett bent down, and in the dim light, saw a small grey mound. He brushed his thumb and forefinger with it. “Did anyone look into his pockets or shirt for a file? He was ready for us this time.” He walked back to his office, shaking his head.

“We’re going to be the laughing stock of the country,” he said to Archie. “On top of this, I now must tell the Chief Inspector what happened. I want you and Pip on this immediately. We need to track him down, handcuff him again, put him in solitary.”

Archie and Pip drove around town, stopping at restaurants to see if he had been there. At the next restaurant, he showed them Tickler’s picture. Still no luck.

“He needs food,” said Pip. “If he hasn’t gone to a restaurant, he may have gone to a small takeout or shop to buy food. Let’s try those next.”

“I have another idea,” said Archie. “We know he has no money. The only thing he can do is beg.”

Archie stopped on Shaftsbury Street to see a beggar with his hand out. Pip got out and went to the beggar. He showed the Tickler’s picture to him. The beggar, an older man in his 80s with an unsteady gait, twisted his lined face. “He grabbed me by the throat and took the few shillings I had collected. “

“Where did he go?”

“Down the street to a small food shop. You can’t miss it.”

Pip felt into his pocket and found five shillings and gave it to him. He got back into the car. “The old guy told

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me a guy looking like Tickler had robbed him and saw him enter a small food shop up the street.”

They both went inside the store and found that Tickler had robbed him. “I called the constabulary about it.”

“How long ago was that?”

“About 15 minutes ago.”

“Did you see which way he was going?” said Archie. Archie held his breath. He took them outside and pointed them in the direction of the park. “Radio Connor and warn the Inspector not to visit the park today, that we have every reason o believe Tickler may be there.”

They sped to the park, leaving the car around the corner and headed toward the bandstand, where Hazlett liked to feed the birds. As they approached, they could see that Hazlett and Tickler were in a fistfight. Tickler knocked him down and started punching Hazlett’s face. He suddenly looked up and saw Pip and Archie coming for him. He rose and started to run, but Hazlett put his right leg between Tickler’s legs and tripped him. He got up and began to run again with Pip after him.

Archie helped the Inspector to his feet.

“He meant to kill me,” said Hazlett, wiping his face with his handkerchief. He was a little unsteady when they walked back to the car.

“I must look a sight?” said Hazlett.

Pip could see him ahead and was gaining on him. Tickler was heading for Somerset Manor and paused as he tried to open the door. Pip was only a short distance away and ran as fast as he could to stop him before he got inside.

Pip was breathing hard and had to slow down to get his breath. He made one final spurt of energy as Tickler opened the door and moved inside. He reached the door in time to hear the lock click from inside.

Archie caught up with him a few minutes later and pointed to the door.

Pip nodded. He had a key and used it to get in before I could reach him. I didn’t want to leave in case he decided to go by another door.”

“Did you check the back door?”

Pip shook his head. “I had to stay put in case he decided to leave suddenly.”

“Good thinking. Wait until I check the back door,” said Archie, who called Hazlett.

“We’ve tracked him down to Somerset Manor of all places. Pip ran after him to see him lock himself inside, and I’m on my way to check the back door. We need a few constables to be at each door and let us and follow him when he leaves.”

“Great work, Archie. I won’t sound so stupid when I see the Chief Inspector this morning. I’ll talk to Connor to send help as we speak.”

Chapter Twenty-One

“How did he escape?” said Hammerson, putting on his clothes. Dr. Culver had been in earlier and described him fit for release. Hazlett told him someone failed to check his clothes for anything suspicious. “It was a new constable.”

“Let’s get at it,” said Hammerson as Hazlett helped him put on his coat.

“At least, we know exactly where he is.”

“Can’t someone blow down the door if it comes to that?”

“They could, but the real estate agent has asked us to wait him out. It is the original door to the Manor. Blasting it would create a hue and cry from the Glastonbury Historical Society that would be on every TV channel in England. We’ll wait him out for a week. By that time, he’ll be too weak to escape. In the meantime, we’ll look for another entrance. I have to believe there must be more than two entrances for a place as large as this.”

On the way back, Hazlett had an idea and turned the car around. “The one person who might be able to tell us how to get him is Jennifer Perkins. “I ran away with him and lived with him for a few months before discovering he was prepared to sacrifice his daughter and me if it meant he could escape.”

They stopped just outside the Perkins home. “You handle it, Hazlett. I feel a bit tired and will wait for you in the car. Hazlett opened the door and looked back. “If you need me, press the horn, and I’ll come running.”

He could see Jennifer Perkins push back the curtain to see who was visiting her and opened the door as soon as he reached for the knob. “Welcome, Inspector. I was hoping we’d see you soon to express our thanks for coming to our aid when you did,” she said, pushing back her hair as she led him inside.

“I need your help.”

He sat down on the sofa, and she sat opposite him. “Could I offer you tea?”

Hazlett shook his head. “Tickler has locked himself inside the Somerset Manor and has decided to wait us out.”

“That’s exactly what he does in a tight situation.”

“Can you tell me what you think his next move is?” said Hazlett. “He can’t stay there forever. He’ll run out of food soon.”

“He knows that. He’ll wait you out. At some point, when your constables get tired, he’ll bolt from there. He’s already spotted a place where he can hide, someplace where you’d never think of looking for him. Above all this, he’s a very ruthless man and would kill you at a wink if he thought it would help him escape.

“One thing more. he managed to evade joining the army or navy during the war. He’ll tell you any tale if he thinks it will help him get what he wants and has no morals of any kind.”

Hazlett looked up to see Robert Perkins walk slowly down the stairs. He looked tired and had a hard time manoeuvring when he reached the landing. Jennifer ran to him and helped him sit next to her. “It’s Inspector Hazlett. He wants our advice on how he can send Tickler back to prison. Tickler has locked himself in the Somer-

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set Manor.”

She turned back to Hazlett. “He has two weak spots. He genuinely loves his daughter. And he’s deadly scared of fire. When he was young, he was badly burned by some boys who locked him inside an old house and set fire to it.”

“We can’t burn down the Manor or even the front door. The historical society would be on our backs at even the hint of it. What will get him out?”

“Just what I told you. Once he finds a weak spot, he’ll exploit it to the fullest. One thing more, you can assume he’s watching you and your constables as we speak. You might want to consider getting your constables to slack off for a bit and be ready for him if he decides to bolt.”

When Hazlett returned with the Chief Inspector, Connor had all the constables lined up on both sides of the door. Hammerson paused to chat with each of them and followed Hazlett to his office.

“It’s going to be a big day, Chief Inspector. Right now, Connor is telephoning everyone involved with Thorton to attend a special meeting when I reveal the name of his murderer. It was clear for all to see had we used our heads.”

Hazlett’s phone rang. “Hazlett,” said the voice. It was the PM. “What can you tell me about this fellow who called on Belinda this morning?”

“Terry Carton, my bombardier aboard my Lancaster. A first-rate fellow who works in the City. He’s not married but quite bewitched by your daughter. He’s sensible and does not take drugs.”

“This is the first time she’s been excited about anything since young Thorton died. I should hate to see her let down badly.” Then, after a pause, “is he any good at picking stocks?”

“That, I cannot say, prime minister. I never had enough money ever to find out.”

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The PM laughed. “I hope you’re right about him. I should hate to see her let down again.”

Hazlett buzzed for Connor, who came in with two mugs of tea and scones. “I’d like you to telephone everyone on this list and tell them we expect them to attend a special meeting at the station when we reveal the name of the murderer of Alex Thorton.”

Connor went down the list and paused. “Who is this woman, Inspector. Gladys Glynn?”

“An Elderly lady who kept watch for us about the comings and goings at the home of the man who was murdered recently. It was Pip’s suggestion.”

“You must be the only constabulary in Britain that treats its constables this way,” said Hammerson taking another bite of his scone.

“It was something we always did after every mission we flew. It’s become a ritual. And everyone appreciates it. It’s also a simple thing to keep our best staff from leaving.”

At noon, Hazlett and Hammerson drove to Somerset Manor. Archie had one of the constables take his place while he went to confer with Pip. Pip had found a chair and was reading The Observer in front of the door.

They went to Hazlett’s car to keep out of the rain. Pip had found an umbrella in the trunk and went back to sit in front of the door. Hammerson watched Pip for some moments. “He has the makings of an Inspector.”

They headed back to the station to get ready for the meeting. Connor was still calling people and raised his thumb at Hazlett. “It’s going great, Inspector. When I called Faith Henshaw, she asked if we minded if she brought along her father. The more, the merrier, I told her.”

Hammerson was looking tired, and Hazlett had one of the constables drove him to The Gladstone. Hugh Gatewood, the owner, saw them come in and installed

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Hammerson in the hotel’s best suite.

It was getting close to six, and Hazlett telephoned his room. “It’s Hazlett, Chief Inspector. We’re sending a car to pick you up in the next few minutes.”

“Could you wait until I have a bite?”

“One of my constables will pick you up. His name is Tommy Thomas. Stay inside until he comes into the lobby and spots you.”

He checked his watch. He had another two hours before the meeting and stopped at Connor’s desk. “Send two senior constables to take over from Archie and Pip. I need them back here for the meeting. He drove to the manor, where he sat down on the grass with Pip and Archie. “I need you both at the meeting. Go home, shave and get ready. I want you to keep watch on everyone and how they react to my commentary.”

“What about the manor?” said Archie.

“Connor will be sending replacements. I had a chat with Mrs. Perkins. She tells me Ticker is deadly afraid of fire. “

“What if we got on the roof and fed smoke down into the Manor through the chimney?” said Archie.

Hazlett shook his head. “Great idea, Archie, but I would not want to have to deal with the Historical Society if they find all the furniture, curtains, beds and paintings suddenly smelled of smoke. I think they have it in their mind to take the manor over once day.”

Back at the station, Connor and five of the other constables were arranging the chairs in a semi-circle around Connor’s desk, where Hazlett would stand. The word had got around about the meeting, and a few people had already gathered near the station, even though it was just past six.

Connor looked out. “I don’t think we’ll have enough chairs. And we can be sure the BBC and The Observer will be here. Perhaps a few more.” He was sweating, and Ha-

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zlett sat him down behind his desk.

“I want you to introduce me and take care of the reporters who will be coming,” said Hazlett. “Start by thanking them for taking the time to join us tonight. Tonight we’ll be hearing from Inspector about the murder of our MP and reveal the name of the murderer. Something along those lines… “

Connor was scribbling a few words on his pad and looked up. “What about the Chief Inspector?”

“Put another chair next to me. And I’ll ask him to say a few words at the end. I also want two constables at the door. That’s to make sure the killer doesn’t make a break for it.”

Hazlett woke with a start when Connor called out his name. It had started to rain, and the crowd outside ran for cover to a nearby covered bus shelter. “Open the door early for them,” said Hazlett as he made his way to his office. He sat down on his chair and leaned back, and closed his eyes.

He was awakened by Connor. “Ten minutes to go, Inspector. Archie and Pip are back, and I’ve already seated the Chief Inspector.”

Hazlett could hear people talking in the station as he prepared himself. It had somehow turned into something he didn’t expect. He thought it would be just for the people who were involved in his investigation. Instead, it had somehow become entertainment. He could see Alma smiling at him as he closed his eyes.

He went to the door and opened it. The room went silent as soon as they saw him enter and take his seat beside the Chief Inspector.

Connor took his place behind his desk and surveyed the room. There weren’t enough chairs, and a number of people were standing at the back. He introduced the Inspector and sat down.

Hazlett stood and surveyed the room. “I had expect-

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ed just the people who were involved in some way with our murdered MP. But I see that it’s captured the imagination of you all. Thank you all for coming.”

He surveyed the room and where the key players were sitting. Gladys Glynn was dressed a black dress in a seat near the back close to Pip. She was whispering to the woman next to her. Thorton’s secretary sat next to Faith Hernshaw and her father, Adam Hershaw, the estate agent. Belinda was seated next to Carton and on her other side, Dermot Marshall and Stan Fortune, his son and Jennifer Perkins. There were a few others whom they had interviewed.

The Observer had run a story that he would be revealing the killer’s name at the constabulary at seven o’clock. The others who read the item considered it an invitation. Malcolm Betts and the BBC reporters were interviewing some of them.

“I should admit that our MP’s murder was extremely hard to solve,” Hazlett began. “Any lead we thought might be the killer led nowhere, one person after another. We knew it as someone local. And just when we thought we had run into a stone wall, something quite unexpected happened. A man was found murdered in his home.

“When we went to his home and examined everything, we discovered a blood-stained photograph and a film negative. It was the picture of a man at the door of the manor. We couldn’t quite make out who that man was. We had certainly not interviewed him.”

“Get to the point,” someone yelled from the rear. A few people clapped, and there was laughter.

“I’m getting there,” Hazlett shouted and everyone clapped again. “We discovered that the victim, who had the picture, knew who the murderer was and was trying the blackmail him. The killer decided to get the picture and kill the victim. But he failed to get the photograph on two attempts.”

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There was a rustling of people whispering and moving in their chairs. He paused and then, “I thought he would find out if I really knew who he was or if I did, to leave Gladstonbury in a real hurry. That individual is with us this evening.”

Gladys Glynn stood and pointed to a dark-haired man sitting near the front row. “That’s the man who killed Mr. Billings. I never forgot his figure and how he walked from the house.”

Henshaw sat glued to his chair and looked at the floor. Faith looked at him in disbelief. She had her hands crossed beneath her neck and started to cry. “Why,” she kept repeating to him. He didn’t respond.

The silence was brittle and ready to shatter at any second. Hazlett raised his hand for silence. “He is also our MP’s killer.”

Archie moved close to Henshaw’s chair. Henshaw was breathing hard, and his daughter kept asking him “why” without let up. “He was the only man I ever loved. You knew this. Why?”

“Our killer was the only person who had a key to Mr. Thorton’s home. He sold the home to him and had an extra key made for himself.”

“Why would I want to kill him? I had no reason to?”

“That’s what I initially thought as well, but while I was visiting Geoffrey Jarvis’s office, I saw a stack of folders on one of the desks. I peeked inside the first one and found it was Alex Thorton’s will. It left everything to his daughter. He knew then he had to kill Mr. Thorton before the will was changed.”

“I did it for you,” he said to her.

“Why in the world would I want you to kill Alex? He was important to me, not his money.”

“I was still puzzled by the Croatian word left at rthe murder scene until I had Mr. Henshaw checked out and found that his grandparents came to England after the

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war of 1918. They had emigrated from Croatia.

Archie could tell he was getting ready to make a run for it. As Henshaw rose, he pushed him back down on the chair and handcuffed him.

Malcolm Betts approached him. “That was quite a show. Now, what do you plan as a second act? Getting your hands, that’s licked himself in the Manor?”

“Join me at ten o’clock in the morning at the manor.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Archie emptied Henshaw’s pockets and placed the keys in Hazlett’s hands. “One of these will fit the front door of the Manor. Hazlett put them in his pocket and sat back in his chair. Belinda and Carton popped by.

“Well done, Flight. We were wondering if you wanted to have a nightcap with us?”

“I’m beat, Terry. But we will all be celebrating tomorrow. We’ll make a night of it then.”

He went to bed and tossed and turned. Something was bothering him. He got out of bed and asked the desk officer to check on the manor.

“You can relax, Inspector. Tickler tried to make a break for it, but when he saw Pip facing him, he turned and slammed the door before Pip could act.”

Hazlett was still troubled. Death hung in the air. The same kind that haunted his dreams during his war nights. He finally got to sleep around four o’clock and woke around eight.

Connor and the Chief Inspector were getting every-

thing ready for their visit to the manor when he arrived.

“Great performance, Hazlett,” said Hammerson. “You’re quite a showman.”

“We don’t usually do this, but with all the publicity about Thorton’s murder, we felt it had to be open so that there would be no questions later.”

They rode to the manor in silence. Everyone was full of expectation and not quite sure what they were going to find. They arrived shortly before ten o’clock. Malcolm Betts was there with a photographer.

Hazlett inserted the key to the manor into the lock and pushed open the door. Two constables led the way. There was an eerie silence as they moved from one room to the another. It wasn’t until they had climbed the stairs before they saw him.

Tickler was lying face down on the carpet with sunlight flowing in from the window to their right. Hazlett rolled him over. Tickler’s face was white. His eyes were open, and there was a look of frozen horror on his face.

Archie’s face had drained. “I don’t believe in ghosts as a rule, but …”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jim Carr’s adventure with words began as a Latin grammar teacher for the first five years. He studied Latin for seven years. His Latin grammar for beginners is called Lingua Latina. He has a degree in Classics and English.

This was followed by a lengthy career in print journalism as a reporter, columnist and editor on two daily newspapers before leaving to become a communications specialist for several national and international corporations and institutions.

He returned to journalism in retirement as associate editor of Spa Canada magazine.He writes a blog about Thai resorts and spas -- thaispasnow.wordpress.com

His book on Thai resorts and their spas, called Spa Magic Collection, includes outstanding resorts and hotels in Bangkok, Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai, Pattaya, Hua Hin, Koh Samui, Krabi and Phuket.

His four mystery novels – Gravediggers, Abbot’s Moon and Rogues Retreat and his book of short stories, Betrayal, He has also written a novel called The Alchemist, a wartime romance, There’s Always Tomorrow. Yesterdays is a historical romance.

Two other novels are set in Italy -- The Book of the Dead, which takes place in pre-war Tuscany, and The Alchemist, during the Renaissance. His most recent novels, Forget-Me-Nots, takes place during the Second World War and Femme Fatale, during Soviet East Berlin.