Beresford was philosophical. ‘I suppose they’d say that they were only serving the public interest. It’s a big story that must have got national coverage. Every newspaper wants inside information.’
‘Well, they won’t get it from me.’ He looked up as he heard the door knocker. ‘If that’s another of them, he’s going to go away empty-handed.’ He got up from his seat. ‘Excuse me.’
Jenks went out of the room and opened the door. The caller was Harvey Marmion. After apologising for disturbing him, the inspector asked if they might speak in private. Jenks brought him into the living room. Marmion was surprised to see Beresford there but pleased to have caught the two of them together. It enabled him to ask about the funeral arrangements. Both men confirmed that they would accept the offer and that Brian Ingles planned to do so as well. Jenks hoped that Marmion had brought some good news about the investigation.
‘Do you have something to tell us, Inspector?’ he asked.
‘It’s really for your ears only,’ said Marmion.
‘You may speak freely in front of Mr Beresford. After all, he’s rather more than an interested party.’
‘That’s true,’ said Beresford. ‘I’d like to hear what you’ve found out.’
Marmion looked from one to the other before putting a question to them.
‘Does the name Herbert Wylie mean anything to either of you?’
‘No,’ replied Jenks. ‘I’ve never heard about him.’
‘What about you, Mr Beresford?’
‘There’s a chap at work called “Herbert” but I’ve no idea what his other name is. He puts detonators into shells.’
‘That sounds like our man. Could you describe him, please?’
After explaining that he didn’t really know the man, Beresford gave enough details about his appearance to convince Marmion that it was indeed Wylie. The description tallied with that given by his landlady.
‘Why are you so interested in this fellow?’ asked Jenks.
‘What I’m looking into is Wylie’s interest in your daughter,’ said Marmion, gently. ‘I suspect that you didn’t realise that Enid once went out with him.’
‘That’s nonsense!’
‘We have it on good authority, Mr Jenks.’
‘Enid would have told me. She wasn’t deceitful in any way.’
‘This occasion was the exception to the rule, sir. Wylie did take her out and your daughter chose not to mention it to you because the evening ended unhappily. Enid told him that she never wanted to see him again.’
‘Wait a moment,’ said Beresford, snapping his fingers. ‘My wife used to work beside Enid at the factory. I vaguely remember her saying that someone was pestering Enid. I didn’t realise that it was Herbert.’
Jenks was puce with anger. ‘I still refuse to believe that my daughter went out with any man,’ he asserted. ‘Her whole life was here with me and her music. What else did she need?’
‘Whatever it was,’ said Marmion, ‘she obviously didn’t find it in Wylie. For his part, he was livid at being rejected and determined to win her over. It seems that he pursued her with single-minded dedication. He even turned up in the church congregation at one point, simply to be close to her.’
‘You’re making this up,’ said Jenks.
‘I’m only reporting what I was told, sir.’
‘And I can support it,’ said Beresford. ‘Now I recall it, Enid always lurked at the factory gate so that she could go in with Shirley. I thought she was just being friendly but it’s more likely that she needed a bodyguard.’
Jenks was furious. ‘If Enid was being harassed, she’d have told me.’
‘It’s precisely
‘Where did you get this monstrous tale?’
‘If only it were monstrous, sir.’
‘Who is your informant?’ demanded Jenks.
‘It was Maureen Quinn. Your daughter confided in her and Maureen would hardly have invented a story like that. She struck me as a truthful young woman.’ Marmion looked at Beresford. ‘You know her well, Mr Beresford, because she is in your football team. Would you say that Maureen was honest by nature?’
‘Yes,’ said Beresford, ‘I would. She’s very honest.’
Marmion turned back to Jenks. ‘Facts are facts, sir, however distasteful they may be. You’ll simply have to accept the truth.’
Jenks was dazed. The daughter whom he’d loved and trusted was changing before his eyes and it was a distressing transformation. He was so shocked that he dropped down into an armchair with his head in his hands. All that Marmion and Beresford could do was to wait until he began to rally. Sitting up straight, Jenks looked at Marmion with apprehension.
‘What other revelations do you have about my daughter?’ he asked.
‘I know of nothing to her discredit,’ said Marmion. ‘The fault, it seems, lies entirely with Wylie. When you read a newspaper tomorrow morning, you’ll see that he’s been identified as a chief suspect.’
‘Then why, in God’s name, haven’t you arrested him?’
‘He’s disappeared and we don’t know where he is.’
‘Have you been to his house?’
‘Sergeant Keedy and I called there earlier. What you need to know, Mr Jenks, is that Wylie kept sending notes to your daughter. One of them is of special interest to us because,’ said Marmion, solemnly, ‘it contained a threat that, if
‘It was Herbert!’ cried Beresford. ‘I bet he planted that bomb.’
‘We’re working on that supposition, sir. The search has begun.’
Jenks was horrified. ‘Are you saying that Enid
‘Not at all,’ stressed Marmion. ‘She was an innocent victim and so were the other four people at that birthday party.’
‘If she’d told me, I could have tackled this devil and sent him packing.’
‘Perhaps she found it difficult to confide such things in you, sir.’
‘I still can’t accept that she lied to me, Inspector.’
Beresford stood up. ‘How sure are you that Herbert was behind the crime?’
‘The evidence speaks for itself, sir.’
‘Well, he’d certainly know how to make a bomb. It was his job.’
‘We found items at his address that proved he had the means to construct an explosive device. And when someone suddenly vanishes from the scene, it’s often because he wants to escape justice.’
‘I’d like to tear him apart,’ growled Jenks, rising to his feet.
‘So would I,’ affirmed Beresford.
‘He must have put my daughter through hell. If he turned up at church, Enid must have realised that there was nowhere to hide. The poor girl must have been at her wits’ end.’ He wrung his hands. ‘Why ever didn’t she turn to me?’
‘That’s a question only you can answer, sir,’ said Marmion, quietly.
Everyone to whom Keedy talked said the same thing about Herbert Wylie. He was a quiet, industrious, rather lonely man who did his job but who made few friends at the factory. Those who realised that a detective would only take an interest in their colleague if he was suspected of something expressed their surprise. Alf Rutter, the foreman under whom Wylie worked, refused to countenance the notion that the man was capable of committing a crime. Rutter was a bull-necked man with a bald head and a toothbrush moustache that wiggled as he talked. He was also very fond of gesticulating as a means of underlining any points he was trying to make. Keedy felt that it was like talking to a human windmill.
‘Herb Wylie?’ said Rutter. ‘He wouldn’t say boo to a goose.’
‘What about a Golden Goose?’ asked Keedy.
‘You’ve got the wrong man, Sergeant.’
‘Did he have a girlfriend?’
‘No, he was far too shy. A barmaid only had to smile at him and Herb would blush bright red. Now, in my
