with the child gone, not with the memories. So she went off to live with her sister in Liphook. Bridger stayed on. He had his job, I suppose, but even there things weren’t going too well. He’d started drinking. Anyway, the farmer he worked for got rid of him not long ago, and after that he went to pieces, Molly said. They were trying to get his wife to come back, or him to leave, but I reckon Jim had his mind made up by then. Poor Molly, though. To come on a man hanging from his own rafters! Now that was wrong… he should have thought what he was doing… who it was who’d find him.’
Lost for words, Madden stared at the ground. He had got back himself only a short while before, having fetched Rob from school, in time to receive a call from Helen who had rung to report that Aunt Maud was being difficult and she would not be able to return until the following day. As he put down the phone he’d heard the sound of a car approaching, its engine labouring.
‘The Henshaws have got word to his wife. She’s coming over. I left Bert Thomas, from Craydon, to handle things.’
Madden shook his head helplessly. In his mind was the memory of the child’s body lying sprawled on the bank of the stream while the thunder crashed above. Catching a look in the constable’s eye, he saw that they shared the same bitter thought.
‘It’s never just the victim, is it?’ Stackpole’s growl came from deep in his chest. ‘It’s everything else that comes with it, the pain it spreads, the damage it does… What I wouldn’t give to get my hands round that bastard’s neck!’
The sound of footsteps approaching on the gravel made Madden look up. ‘How’d you come to be there, Billy?’
‘I happened to be at Albury, sir.’ The sergeant wiped his oil-smeared fingers on a piece of rag. ‘I heard there was some trouble at Brookham, so I drove over… and found Will.’
‘Bert Thomas had rung me earlier,’ Stackpole explained. ‘I managed to get a lift in the post van, but there wasn’t much I could do when I got there.’
The three men stood in silence for a few moments. Then Madden stirred.
‘Come inside, both of you. We’ll have a drink together.’
‘Not for me, thank you, sir. I ought to be getting back.’ Stackpole’s glance remained grim beneath his helmet.
‘Let me at least run you into the village, Will.’
‘If you don’t mind, sir, I’d rather walk.’ The constable straightened. ‘Yes, I could do with a breath of fresh air.’ He shook Madden’s hand and then clapped his colleague on the shoulder. ‘Thanks for the lift, Billy. I’ll see you again soon.’
Wheeling about, he strode off down the drive. Madden watched as his figure disappeared into the mist- wreathed darkness.
‘Albury?’ He glanced questioningly at Billy.
‘I went there to see a birdwatcher, sir. Your idea, I believe?’ The sergeant smiled. He’d purposely stood apart while the two older men had spoken together, feeling they might want to share their grief in private. But he hadn’t missed the agonized expression that had crossed Madden’s face when he heard what the other had to tell him.
‘Mr Sinclair told me you were handling that line of inquiry. Have you had any luck?’
‘Not so far. We’ve had plenty of reports of strangers spotted here and there, but no one’s been able to identify Lang. I’ve been getting around a good bit, seeing plenty of the countryside.’ The sergeant grinned. ‘Mind you, I’m not sure I’ll be going anywhere in the near future.’ He jerked his head in the direction of the Morris. ‘The Yard gave me that when I went to Henley. She started playing up this morning. Will and I were lucky to get this far.’
Seemingly oblivious of the thickening mist, Madden stood brooding. ‘Stay the night,’ he said suddenly. ‘No, I mean it, Billy. Helen’s away. I’ll be glad of your company. So will the children. I’ll get someone from the village to look at your car in the morning.’
‘Well, if you’re sure it’s no bother, sir.’ The sergeant was pleased to accept the invitation. He knew his old chief wouldn’t want to be alone. Not that evening.
‘Quite the contrary.’ The frown darkening Madden’s brow lifted. ‘Your presence will be hailed by one and all. Rob has a long list of questions to put to you, I know, and as far as Lucy’s concerned, you need only appear in person to make it a red-letter day. She’ll be as pleased as punch.’
24
‘There’s not much we can do for the moment, Sal. Except wait and see. One thing puzzles me, though. If Eddie’s got a problem, why hasn’t he been in touch?’
Fretting, Sam glanced at his watch again. It was after ten and still there was no sign of the client Mr Cuthbertson had asked him to meet. He and Sal had driven out here to Tillington earlier that morning; to a farm just this side of Petworth, which some prospective buyer was showing an interest in.
It was a side of the business Mr Cuthbertson normally dealt with himself, taking customers around properties. But that morning he’d had a dentist’s appointment: one he couldn’t postpone, either.
‘It’s a wisdom tooth, Sam, and it has to come out pronto.’ Mr Cuthbertson had rung him the previous evening, sounding strange on the phone, as if his tongue didn’t fit in his mouth. He said his jaw had gone up like a balloon. ‘Hitchens is the fellow’s name. I’d have put him off, but he’s coming all the way from Horsham, and bringing his wife with him, so she can look over the house. It sounds as though he’s ready to make an offer. I don’t want to discourage him.’
Sam had assured his employer it would be no trouble, though in fact going out to Tillington that morning was inconvenient, since he usually spent Tuesdays on the other side of Midhurst, visiting properties to the west of the town, including Coyne’s Farm.
But he could see there was no help for it and had already decided to adjust his afternoon’s itinerary when a new factor had arisen.
‘I do apologize for ringing you so early, Mr Watkin – I found your number in the book – but we’re a little worried about your friend Mr Noyes. Do you happen to know where he is?’
If Sam had been surprised to hear Mrs Ramsay’s voice on the telephone that morning, what she had to say during the next ten minutes had left him scratching his head in bafflement. It seemed Eddie had disappeared. What’s more he’d gone off without saying a word to anyone.
‘We were expecting to see him on Friday evening, but he never came, and that was strange because he knew we might have some good news for him. You see, Mr Ramsay has mentioned his name to a company he does business with in Chichester and he heard himself on Friday that they were interested in meeting Eddie and might even be able to offer him a job. We were so puzzled by his not appearing, Nell and I, that we walked up to Coyne’s Farm on Sunday. There was no sign of him there, and when Nell came back from school yesterday he wasn’t with the other men working on the road, so she walked back from the bus stop and spoke to the foreman, a Mr Harrigan, and he said Eddie hadn’t appeared for work that day and he didn’t know where he was.’
Mrs Ramsay had hardly drawn breath as she’d poured out her story, and Sam had been touched by her concern for his old pal. He did wonder, though, if she wasn’t making too much of the situation. It didn’t sound that serious to him.
‘The only explanation I can think of is that he went home for the weekend – to Hove, I mean – and the fact that he hasn’t come back suggests it might be because of some family emergency. Don’t you think that’s possible? But I want him to know about Chichester. It would mean so much to him if he could find a proper job. I was hoping you might know how to get in touch with him.’
Sam’s thoughts had been moving along similiar lines while she was speaking. But first he’d had to explain that he only had an address for Eddie in Hove. The Noyeses had had their telephone disconnected a while back to save money.
‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do, though. I’ll send them a telegram. If Eddie’s there he’ll ring me at home. If not, then either his mother or sister might be able to help.’
