'Not about the rent. I expect grandfather will wait a bit longer,' I said. 'But we want to talk to you, please, Mrs Winter. We won't keep you long, but it's very, very important.'
'And about the murders?' Her long thin nose appeared to quiver with eagerness. 'Well, you better come enside, then.'
So, for the first and last time in our lives we penetrated into the forest of pot-plants from behind which she kept watch over the comings and goings of the village. The room was airless, stuffy and heavy with a smell of wet and decaying foliage. She asked us to sit down, but she herself remained standing at the window behind her barrage of plants, barely turning her head when she spoke to us. It seemed as though she could not bear to take her eyes off the village street, and the houses opposite her own, even for a moment.
'It's about Mr Ward,' I said. 'Aunt Kirstie's lodger, you know.'
'I ded hear as they dug hem up en the old cottage down the road. Murdered for hes money, Oi reckon.'
'For his money?' This, to us, was entirely a novel idea. 'But he didn't have any money.'
'Oh, dedn't he, though!' She sniffed importantly. 'Only went to the public every day of hes loife and took hes denner there as well as hes beer. Every four weeks he was en Old Mother Honour's lettle post-office a-changen of hes bets of paper Messus Kempson sent hem.'
'How do you know?' asked Kenneth.
'Talked to Messus Honour when Oi got moi Lord George dedn't Oi? Ferret and foind out, that be moi motto. Ef ee don't arsk ee don't learn, do ee? Don't you arsk questions when you be at school?-whech Oi do notece as you beant there thes mornen. Whoi not, then?'
This question ought to have non-plussed us, but we had agreed upon our answer to it if it was put to us, as we thought it might well be.
'Because the police and Mrs Kempson and an important lady called Mrs Bradley have asked us to help them and, in any case, our school is in London, not here,' I said glibly, for we had memorised and rehearsed this wording. The Widow Winter withdrew her gaze from the window long enough to give us a hard look, but all she said was,
'Oh, Oi see. Oi follered hem ento the shop one day to boi moiself a stamp and Oi seen hem get twenty pound acrorst the counter-just loike that! The post-offece in the town ded used to send Old Mother Honour the money special every month, Oi reckon, so as her could pay et out to hem. Her wouldn't never have all that money en the tell, and her'd have to gev et to hem when he handed over hes money-orders-four on 'em!'
This was a revelation to us. Twenty pounds! The largest amount we had ever seen at one and the same time was the five pounds our father received every Quarter Day for travelling expenses. As he always used his bicycle for getting about, the five pounds came in very handy indeed and we always felt immensely proud of him when he put them out on the kitchen table in front of mother and they laughed together with pleasure over them.
'Oi'll tell ee sommat else,' said Mrs Winter. Like so many lonely people (and, ostracised as she was in the village because of all the spying she did, I imagine that she was very lonely indeed) she talked to us as though we were her own age. 'You knows about the noight the young lady was kelled? Well, Oi 'adn't got off to sleep-Oi sleeps en the front room, see?-when Oi hears one o' them moty-cars go boy.
'"Oi knows the sound of that there," Oi says to moiself. "That be Doctor Matters' car," Oi says. "But 'twouldn't be hem, not at past ten o'clock," Oi says. "That'll be Doctor Tassall-ah, and what do he get up to weth old Mother Grant? Loike foine to know that, Oi'ud."'
'I expect he goes to look after her ague,' said Kenneth.
'Not wethout she paid hem, and that she can't afford, so what goes on? But now you lesten here. Oi be loyen awake, wonderen, and turnen Doctor Tassall over en moi moind, loike, when Oi hears another car, blest ef Oi don't. And who do ee thenk that was, then? Whoi, et was Mester Noigel Kempson, that's who et was. Knows hes car too, Oi does. "So what goes on?" Oi says to moiself. Woild young men, the two of 'em, Oi thenks. So Oi puts on moi wrapper and Oi sneaks down the stairs and Oi goes out to moi front gate and what do Oi see? Et's a lovely clear noight, not near what ee'd call dark, and Oi sees a beg shadder standen opposyte Messus Honour's.'
We hardly dared to breathe. This was true drama and greatly superior to anything Our Sarah had told the Sunday school children on the day after the murder.
'Please go on!' said Kenneth. 'What happened next?' Mrs Winter, sparing a second from her window-gazing to turn and shake her head, replied regretfully,
'Don't Oi wesh Oi knowed! Oi reckon et were a car, but whether et were Doctor Matters' car, or whether et were young Mester Noigel's car weth him or somebody else or hem and somebody else en et, es more nor Oi can tell ee.'
'You don't mean the girl they found down by the sheepwash?' asked Kenneth.
'No better than she should a-ben, ef you arsk me! A proper lettle flebberty-gebbet. Must ha' ben. Out to meet some man
