“And are you saying he came to Copsedown Hall to see Ray?”
“No,” said Kelly-Marie. “He came here to see Viggo.”
? The Poisoning in the Pub ?
Twenty-Five
When she went round to coffee at High Tor on the Sunday morning, Jude could see that her neighbour’s time with her granddaughter had gone well. There exuded from Carole an air of satisfaction, the feeling of a job well done. And when asked about her babysitting, she couldn’t restrain herself from enthusing about Lily’s charms. “She really responds to me, you know – she definitely knows who I am.”
Jude was always pleased to witness another step in what she had come to regard as the ‘thawing’ of Carole Seddon. But the proud grandmother’s anec-dotage would have to wait for another occasion; there were more urgent things for them to talk about. Quickly Jude brought Carole up to date with the progress she had made the previous day.
“Yes, I got the photographs you sent to my mobile.”
“Lucky Zosia had taken those, wasn’t it, Carole?”
“A very useful record. And you think Viggo’s modelled himself on that man with the scarred face, that that’s his latest incarnation?”
“Yes. It fits with everything that Sally Monks said about his personality.”
“Does that mean you think he killed Ray?”
“I’m not sure. But I am sure that Viggo and the scarred man have information that’ll help us get closer to a solution.”
Carole nodded. “Now I come to think of it, I didn’t see either of them that night at the Crown and Anchor after the fight had started.” Jude looked at her curiously. “I remember looking out for them.”
“So either of them could be in the frame for stabbing Ray?”
“Perhaps. Mind you, in all that chaos it was fairly difficult to see anyone.” Carole shook her head in frustration, then said, “So all we have to do is to find out who the man with the scarred face is.”
“Yes, that’s all we have to do. And I’ve a feeling it may not be easy.”
“Well, come on, what do we know about him?”
“Beyond his physical description – the scarred face, the missing fingers – not a lot.”
“We also know that he’s one of the bikers – or at least he knows the bikers. In fact, from the way he was behaving he seemed like the ringleader of the bikers.”
“Yes, OK, I’ll go along with that. But where did he arrive from? Come to that, where did the rest of the bikers arrive from? Just suddenly they were in Fethering, at the Crown and Anchor, in something that almost felt like an orchestrated plan of sabotage, whose sole purpose was to destroy Ted Crisp’s business. Where did they come from?”
Carole smiled triumphantly as she announced, “Portsmouth.”
“What? How do you know that?”
“You were there at the same time. You should be able to work it out too.”
“Oh, stop being infuriating, Carole. Tell me what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about Dan Poke’s performance…routine…show…whatever the right word is.”
“‘Act.’”
“Act, all right. Dan Poke’s act. Don’t you remember, he went into a whole sequence about Portsmouth?”
“Yes, it’s coming back to me.”
“And he started by saying he knew there were some people in from Portsmouth, and when he said that there was a big roar from the bikers.”
Jude’s brown eyes sparkled as she caught up with her friend’s train of thought. “Yes, and he talked about some pub, didn’t he? Some rough pub – what was it called?”
Carole’s brow wrinkled. “I can’t remember. Don’t worry, it’ll come to me. Try to remember what else he said in the act about Portsmouth.”
“He said he lost his virginity there, and he said something about the hookers, and…ooh, he did the old ‘arsehole of the world’ joke.”
“Oh yes.” Carole lips pursed into an expression of prim disapproval.
“But you’re right,” said Jude excitedly. “They did respond when Dan mentioned Portsmouth. So that narrows it down. The man with the scarred face comes from Portsmouth.”
Carole smiled beatifically as the memory came back to her. “And he drinks in a pub called the ‘Middy’.”
“Yes, that was it!”
“And a ‘Middy’, of course,” Carole went on with authority, “in a town with naval connections like Portsmouth is almost definitely an abbreviation for ‘Midshipman’.”
“So all we have to do is find the address of the Midshipman pub in Portsmouth.”
“What’s the best way to do that? Directory Enquiries?” asked Carole.
“Be quicker to do it on the Internet.”
“Oh,” said Carole, infusing the monosyllable with the instinctive note of disapproval that came to her whenever computers were mentioned. Then she remembered how much of the previous evening she’d spent on her inherited laptop.
But she didn’t mention her new acquisition to Jude. When Carole Seddon changed – which was something she strongly resisted throughout her life – she did so very gradually. She was embarrassed by revealing the workings of her mind to outsiders. Until she felt absolutely confident and competent in her computer skills, she was determined to maintain her stance of contempt for all such technology.
So the two women went next door to Woodside Cottage, where Jude switched on the laptop she had inherited from a former lover called Laurence Hawker. Carole peered over her shoulder with a mixture of censure and fascination as her friend connected to the Internet and Googled: ‘Midshipman Portsmouth’. In seconds they had an address: Midshipman Inn, Hood Lane, Fratton, Portsmouth.
“See?” said Jude. “Quick, isn’t it?”
Grudgingly Carole agreed that it was indeed quick. Jude grinned. She was way ahead. Though she didn’t know about the laptop already sitting in High Tor, she reckoned it would be a relatively short time before her friend finally succumbed to the magic of the computer. And, once Carole started, there’d be no stopping her.
“Well, Jude, what do we do now?”
“I would say we get to the Midshipman Inn as soon as possible.”
“When?”
“Right this minute.”
“What?”
“I’ve got to go and visit a healer friend this evening, so if we don’t do it now we’ll have to wait till tomorrow.”
Carole looked sceptical. “So what do you propose we do? We drive to Portsmouth, we arrive in the pub on a Sunday afternoon, on the off chance that this scarred man is drinking there. We walk through the crowd of aggressive bikers surrounding him and – then what? Are we accusing him of something? What? Starting last Sunday’s riot at the Crown and Anchor? Having a hand in the killing of Ray Witch-ett? Being a role model for Viggo? I think we need a more definite agenda than that, you know, Jude.”
Her friend looked disappointed. “It’s the only lead we’ve got. There has to be some connection between him and Viggo.”
“Then maybe a better approach might be through Viggo. You’ve at least met him.”
“That’s true. Maybe we’d do better to – ” Jude was interrupted by her mobile ringing. “Oh, hello. How nice to hear you. It was good to see you yesterday. Oh, is he? Well, thank you for the warning. Enjoy your Sunday lunch with your parents. Hope to see you soon. Bye.”
In response to Carole’s interrogative eyebrows, Jude explained, “Kelly-Marie. She rang to tell me that Viggo is coming to see me.”
“Why on earth would he do that?”
