The Morris rolled briskly through the carriage gates, and down the gravelled drive towards the house.
‘And you’ve never had any regrets?’ Charlotte asked.
‘Me?’ said Lesley, opening her wide eyes even wider in amused surprise. ‘I never regret anything.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
« ^ »
George slept until six o’clock, and was then awakened by the telephone. Sergeant Noble had a comprehensive report to make, the day’s summary of his own activities and those of several others.
‘Got a preliminary estimate for you from Goodwin, but he’s not through yet, he’ll be on the line again later this evening.’ The pathologist attached to Comerbourne General Hospital enjoyed Home Office recognition in this region, and he was an old friend, and amenable. ‘It confirms what Braby suggested, but we’ll have to wait until he’s finished the post-mortem. Yes, the father showed up to identify. Very composed, considering. Shall I read it out?’
He did so. Doctor Braby, hard-worked GP and police surgeon to the district, had done more than confirm the fact of death on this occasion, he had called immediate attention to certain peculiarities about the body, and boldly essayed a guess at the length of time it had actually been in the water. A very suggestive guess, too, but there was no acting on it until Dr Reece Goodwin had made a more detailed examination and confirmed or corrected Braby’s estimate. Noble’s matter-of-fact voice made short work of the interim report.
‘And this shed of Benyon’s. We’ve about mapped it, took us most of the day. He was there, all right. We got a set of his prints from the body. The letters on the glass are drawn, of course, but you were right about the dot. Right forefinger tip—a beauty. But besides that, we’ve collected half a dozen more, various but his, from all round the place. And as good as a complete set off the vice—the metal had the thinnest possible film of oil. He was there, and there for some time, poking into everything. No damage, no mischief, just having a look. Like you and Benyon put it—passing the time.’
‘So, alone,’ said George.
‘That’s how it looks. Nearly all the other prints we lifted are Benyon’s, naturally. One or two of someone else, probably Paviour himself, but of course we haven’t got him on file, and these are where you’d expect ’em, on the door, where you might well finger it if you just looked in to have a word with the incumbent, so to speak.’
‘So young Boden spent some time alone in there, alive and active. What about getting in there, considering where he was last noticed?’
‘Easy! The box hedge is solid as a wall as far as the corner, but just round there it ends, and that short side is privet, and there’s a place in it where an old wicket’s been taken out, and the gap hasn’t grown in completely yet. Not much doubt he slipped in there and went to earth in the shed, for some purpose of his own. Otherwise
‘And waited. For what, I wonder? I can’t think he had any date to meet somebody there. He came with the party, and halfway through the visit he was still showing off for his fans and being mildly provocative towards all authority. He wasn’t doing any showing off when he slipped quietly away into Orrie’s shed. Something happened, something came into his mind, while he was there at Aurae Phiala, that prompted him to disappear and let the party leave without him.’
‘He may not have expected them to do that,’ objected Noble reasonably. ‘They never had before. Maybe he just wanted to make ’em hunt and fret a bit.’
‘Look, Orrie’s shed isn’t any special joy, and this was a boy who liked his comfort, and company, and adulation. He might sit it out ten minutes just to annoy, but not the time it took him to fidget all round the place as he seems to have done. He’d have to have a much more compelling reason than that. It looks to me more as if he wanted them to push off and abandon him. For his own reasons. And that means a reason right there on the spot, otherwise, once out of sight, he’d simply have made off for wherever it was he wanted to be. But he didn’t. Where he wanted to be was right there, but unobserved. He camped out and waited. For what?’
‘Closing time,’ said Noble. ‘For everyone to go away.’
‘You’re not far off target, either, but it’s no answer. Look, there wasn’t any sign in there of a scuffle of any kind? Even tidied up afterwards?’
‘Not a thing. The dust lay peacefully, except where he’d actually trodden or pawed. Nobody’d been fighting in there, take it from me.’
‘Then nothing to suggest that—granted he walked in of his own will—he didn’t walk out the same way?’
‘I was coming to that,’ said Sergeant Noble with satisfaction. ‘He walked out, all right. I don’t know if you noticed, but just outside the door, where the ground’s trodden, the grass thins, and there’s a slight hollow that obviously holds water every time it rains, and only dries out gradually in between—nice smooth black mud like double-cream. It’s in first-class shape just now. I’ve got two and a half beautiful prints in that layer of mud, heading
‘For a while,’ George conceded, ‘I was. It was just a possibility. Knowing what we know.’
‘Yes, granted. But there it is. He went out of there alive and alone, after a fairly lengthy stay. And where do we go from here?’
‘Home to bed,’ said George, ‘in your case, and leave me the file. In my case—back to Aurae Phiala.’
It was after nine o’clock, however, by the time he got there, since his route was complicated, and involved calls at the mortuary of the General Hospital, at police headquarters, and a telephone call to the forensic laboratory. He collected the full list of the contents of the dead boy’s pockets, and one unexpected item in the collection sent him out of his way to pay a visit to ‘The Salmon’s Return’ before he finally reached Paviour’s house.
‘Why, Mr Felse!’ said Lesley, opening the door to him, and blessedly forgetting to think of him first by his rank and office. ‘Do come in! Do you want Stephen, or all of us?’
He said that he didn’t mind who was present, that he had something to communicate which might slightly
