The Hangman’s Row Enquiry

Ivy attempted an innocent expression. “Oh, really?” she said. “How would you remember him?”

“I’d rather not,” said Beattie. “He was a rotten husband and a rotten father. Responsible for a lot of trouble in the village and on the estate.” Then she clamped her lips together, making it quite clear that she had no more to say on that subject. But Ivy was not so easily foiled.

“His son is a lot different, so I’ve heard? A real gentleman, so they say up at Springfields.” This was a lie, as Ivy had never heard anything of the sort. Theo Roussel was hardly ever mentioned.

Beattie visibly relaxed. “Oh, yes,” she answered. “Mr. Theo is a lovely man. He is quite a private person though. Likes to sit in his study writing his memoirs and doing the Times crossword. Friendly, too,” she embroidered. “He always asks me to help if he’s stuck with a difficult clue.”

What a whopper! thought Ivy. This stupid woman couldn’t do the crossword in the Women’s Friend. “He must rely on you a lot, Miss Beatty,” she said.

“Oh, you can forget the ‘Miss,’ ” Beattie said, spotting the loaded question and sidestepping it. “It is so nice to talk to somebody who is fresh to the village,” she said. “What brought you here, Miss Beasley?”

Ivy did not return the invitation to use her Christian name, but said that her cousin Deirdre had organised it. “Most of my old friends are either in Heaven-or the other place-or in the local old folks home in Ringford. I wasn’t happy about moving, but now I’m here I intend to make the best of it.”

“Ah, yes. Your cousin Deirdre lives at Tawny Wings, doesn’t she? Such a nice person, though I don’t know her well. A widow, I believe?”

“And a merry one,” chuckled Ivy. She knew exactly where this was leading, and decided to give Beattie Beatty her money’s worth. “When our Deirdre was young, she was a real goer, as they say. I secretly envied her, but with my mother there was no chance I could have a good time with a different lad every night, like our Deirdre.”

“I am sure she settled down,” Beattie said sourly. “I believe her husband owned the big garage in town?”

“Bert? Oh, yes, he was one of many. Deirdre always aimed high, mind you. Money was her goal, and if possible a title to go with it!” She chuckled again, but this time at the look on Beattie’s face. “How come Mr. Theo never married?” she asked.

“It was his choice,” Miss Beatty said sniffily. “As you and I know, there is a lot to be said for the unmarried state.”

“Not so sure about that,” Ivy said. “I had the one chance, but nothing came of it.”

“Well, Mr. Theo was very popular with the girls, come to that,” Beattie said defensively. “He could have married any of the eligible girls around.”

“Ah, yes, of course!” Ivy said, as if she had just remembered something. “I knew I’d heard his name somewhere before. Must have been when we came over from Ringford to see Deirdre’s family, when she was unattached and fancy-free. It was Deirdre who mentioned him. Always off out somewhere, she was! Mind you, she was a very pretty girl. Still is, in her way, don’t you think?”

Miss Beatty stood up, her face thunderous. “Must be getting back,” she said, and strode off without attempting a pleasant farewell.

Ivy got more slowly to her feet. She saw that Gus and Katya were approaching, and waited until they reached her. Gus immediately offered her his arm, and she took it.

“Are you all right, Ivy?” he said, feeling her arm trembling as they set off.

“Fine,” she replied, and Gus realised that the old thing was shaking with laughter.

Twenty-one

DEIRDRE POTTERED ABOUT the garden, cutting roses for the drawing room and snipping off dead heads as she went. The sun was warm on her back, and she relived for the umpteenth time the couple of hours spent with Theo up at the Hall. How easy she had felt with him! That relaxed charm had not been erased by the years, and the warmth of his personality had made her feel as she had not felt since Bert died. No matter how much money she had-and she had a lot-nor how many luxuries she surrounded herself with, there was no substitute for another compatible person living alongside her, always there in good days and bad, worrying and rejoicing in turns at news from their daughters and grandchildren.

“I hate it!” she said violently, snipping off a perfectly formed rose without noticing. A blackbird sitting on the edge of the marble birdbath flew off, squawking in alarm. “I hate being alone! Why did you have to go and die, Bert? Just like you to be so selfish!”

She sat down on a beautifully carved bench, presented to them by a grateful county council when Bert retired. Tears came to her eyes, and she let them flow. The roses fell from her hands and she cried until her handkerchief was a sodden ball.

“Now then, our Deirdre!” It was Ivy, walking with her stick across the velvety lawn towards her. “Whatever makes you give way like that, it can’t be so bad that you’ve forgotten our meeting, surely?”

Deirdre hastily pulled herself together, and looked at her watch. “Not time yet, is it? I make it a quarter past. The meeting is not until half past, I’m sure.”

“Quite right,” Ivy said. “I just thought I’d walk up and collect you. Springfields can be airless on a day like this.”

“Oh, well, all right then. I’ll just change my shoes and be with you. Have a seat on the council bench.”

Ivy laughed. Deirdre improved on better acquaintance, she thought. Some of the old family bloody-mindedness had been handed down, Ivy was pleased to note.

They walked companionably back to Springfields, and saw Gus hurrying up the street towards them, Whippy trotting along beside him.

“Morning, ladies!” he said. “How are we?”

“I don’t know how we are,” Ivy said, “but I’m very well, thanks.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Gus blithely.

“And I’m very well, too,” Deirdre said, with a sharp look at Ivy to remind her not to say anything about earlier tears.

“Shall we convene, then?” Gus ploughed on.

“Yeah,” Ivy said. “An’ we can start our meeting, too.”

Gus gave up. “Come on then. Can we get a cup of coffee from Mrs. S., d’you think?”

Ivy said that with the money she was paying them, Springfields should be able to come up with champagne if required.

“We’ll settle for coffee,” Deirdre said, rescuing Gus. He risked a contribution. “And your nice little Katya might have been baking again, Ivy,” he said. “I suppose the cleaners will have finished in your room?”

Ivy said that she had given instructions that her room must be cleaned and ready for an important meeting well before eleven o’clock. “I think you’ll find all is in order,” she said, mounting the stairs like a woman half her age.

The others followed, and in due course coffee and cookies were produced. “Right,” said Gus, “perhaps we should start by each of us giving a report of how things stand, up to the present time. You first, maybe, Deirdre?”

He had smuggled Whippy up to Ivy’s room, as it had been made very clear to him that dogs were not allowed. Now he heard Mrs. Spurling’s dulcet tones along the landing, and eased Whippy under the bed. “Stay!” he said, and the little dog put back her ears, but did as she was told.

Deirdre had, of course, already told both of them about her successful visit to the Hall, but added a few details that she had remembered since. “I reckon that given time, Theo could live a perfectly active life without all that nannying he’s got used to from Beattie,” she said.

“She keeps him under her thumb, does she?” Gus said.

“Completely,” Deirdre said. “I nipped down to the kitchen to see if the phone there was connected to the one in Theo’s study. It was, of course. The kitchen one is the master phone, and Theo’s is an extension. So Beattie can listen in at any time. Theo and me practised to see if he could tell I’d lifted the kitchen phone. He said he didn’t hear any clicks, but the silence changed. Then I said “testing only,” and he heard that all right. We had a good laugh