Beware This Boy (18 page)

Patrick moved off. “Two days until payday, Bolton.”

C
ONSTABLE
E
AGLETON HAD ARRIVED IN THE EARLY
hours of the morning, the train having been delayed for two hours. Nevertheless, bright and chipper, he was waiting for Tyler in the canteen at breakfast.

“What do you think you are, Eager? Young?”

“Er, yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

They had weak tea and toast made palatable by the scones Eagleton had brought with him from Sergeant Gough’s wife.

“That woman is a national treasure,” said Tyler as he munched.

He filled in the constable as to what he had done so far, including his visit to Sylvia Sumner.

“She was a fine-looking girl,” said Eagleton. “What a terrible shame.”

“Indeed.”

“Are we seriously looking for criminal activity, sir?”

“I don’t know, but we can’t rule out the possibility, not these days. The war has given all the crackpots in the country a chance to play out their grievances. On the other hand, the matter could be personal. Somebody wanting to kill one of the operatives.”

“Crikey. Why would they?”

“You don’t know much about the ways of love, Eager. Rejection can twist a person inside out.”

“Even if you kill many other innocent people?”

“Even that. Anyway, I’m going to set you up in the section where the explosion took place. Go through everything with a sieve. You’re looking for anything that might have caused
the explosion. Metal, jewellery, that sort of thing. When you take your tea break, go to the canteen and chat up the girls. Young women will always talk to good-looking young coppers like you.”

Eagleton looked doubtful. “Do you think so, sir? I haven’t had that experience yet.”

“This isn’t Whitchurch, this is the big city. They’re more broad-minded here.”

“I suppose it doesn’t help that I know virtually everybody in Whitchurch. I’m not new to them either.”

“Exactly. Now let’s get going. I’m in a cubbyhole on the factory floor. Just room for me and a mouse. Fetch me at once if you come across anything. By the way, lad, it’s all right to wear your specs here. I won’t tell.”

Eagleton blushed. He’d surreptitiously slipped a pair of spectacles into his pocket while they were getting their tea tray.

“Thank you, sir. I only need them for close-up work, but I thought I might get kicked out of the force if anybody knew.”

“Not a chance, Eager. Even half-blind you’re a better police officer than half the constabulary. I wouldn’t allow you to get the chop.”

They walked over to the factory. It was another overcast, chilly day. Tyler was beginning to forget what a sunny day looked like. He directed the younger man to the site of the explosion and left him to his task.

He’d just seated himself at the desk-cum-tea-table when Cudmore came in carrying an envelope. He cleared his throat in a self-deprecating way. “Here are my notes from yesterday. I think you’ll find them all in order.”

“Thank you, Mr. Cudmore.” Tyler put the envelope on the desk.

“Did you sleep well, sir?” Cudmore asked.

“Not really.”

“Strange bed, most likely. I’m rather like that myself.”

Tyler didn’t add that he’d also been tormented by bad dreams. Something that should have been getting better but clearly wasn’t.

“Did you have the opportunity to interview Mr. Pavely?” asked Cudmore.

“I did but he doesn’t remember a thing. His memory literally stops just before the accident happened.” Tyler rubbed his hands over his head. “Make a note, Mr. Cudmore. I’d like to know who instructed the men to work on the bench.”

The secretary glanced up in surprise. “It was I myself, sir. I got a note about a small tear in the linoleum cover that needed to be repaired. I passed that along to Mr. Pavely, who is our senior maintenance man.”

“Did you see the tear yourself?”

Cudmore raised his eyebrows. “I did. I have to ensure that these requisitions are indeed necessary.”

“How did the tear get there?”

“I don’t understand your question, Inspector.”

“As I understand it, no instruments were being used in Section B that were sharp enough to put a hole in linoleum.”

“Ah, yes, quite so. This particular damage was at the corner of the bench. The lino was probably not glued down sufficiently and had come loose. It was not a big job but did necessitate the entire cover being removed and re-glued in place.”

“When did you receive this requisition?”

“On Saturday, sir.”

“And who reported it?”

“Mr. Riley. He discovered it that morning.”

“Thank you, Mr. Cudmore. Underline that, will you.” Tyler tipped back as far as his chair could go before he connected with the wall. Serious as the subject was, he was rather enjoying this process of dictation. Previously he would have liked
it even more if the madly scribbling secretary had been an attractive young woman. But then that was a different Tyler, and in another time.

“Right. Let’s just jot down what we’re trying to determine here. Question one, first and most obvious: what caused the detonators to explode? Were they incorrectly loaded? Mishandled by one of the girls?” He paused. “There is the rather puzzling fact that the change-room door was locked. This meant a delay in the afternoon shift’s getting to their section.” He pointed at Cudmore for emphasis. “Question number two, underlined: is this delay significant or irrelevant? Did it put undue pressure on the girls to hurry with their tasks? They should have waited for their supervisor before they trayed up but they chose not to.”

Cudmore shook his head disapprovingly.

“If the operatives had got to their benches on time,” continued Tyler, “the workmen would not have been allowed to remain. Did they somehow contribute to the explosion? If so, how? I told Pavely it wasn’t his fault. They couldn’t have caused a spark with what they were doing, and they weren’t handling the pots.”

“But their presence did mean the women who were normally at Bench Two had to move over,” said the secretary. “That might have caused undue congestion.”

Tyler paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. A familiar throb was beginning its tune in his temples. “Too many bloody variables, Mr. Cudmore. I feel like a dog chasing its own tail. I’m going in circles, with nothing to show for it but a dicey smell.”

Cudmore peered at Tyler. His blue eyes were sharp. “There is one thing that might be added to the mix, as it were, Inspector. With this new quota system that Mr. Endicott introduced – with the best of intentions of course …”

He paused while Tyler nodded his support for Endicott’s intentions.

“He said he would give a bonus of five pounds to whichever shift produces the most work by the end of the month. The competition among the employees has become intense. I wondered to myself if somebody from the Red shift – the first shift, that is – I wondered if one of the young women had locked the door so that the Blue shift would be delayed and fall behind on their quota.”

“Ah, a good thing to wonder about, Mr. Cudmore. I’d better have a word with those girls. Did they all come in today?”

“Not all of them, but I can fetch the ones that are here and send word to the others.”

“Let’s do that, then. Where is the change-room key usually kept?”

“I keep all keys in my office for safety.”

“Would everybody know that?”

“I believe it is common knowledge, sir.”

“Any missing?”

“No, sir, I checked. They’re hanging on hooks by my desk, all present and correct. On Sunday it was Mr. Riley who took the key and opened the door. He obviously returned it.”

“Right, let’s start setting up interviews. It’s a bit cramped in here but that can’t be helped.”

“People are getting used to being squashed these days,” said Cudmore. He unfastened a piece of paper from the back of his notebook. “I have this list prepared for you. It is the same one I gave you yesterday. The letter P beside a name indicates that they are in the factory today and thus available for you to speak to.”

He handed the sheet of paper to Tyler.

“Mrs. Castleford is already here, sir. She is still quite distraught. It would be kind if you could start with her.”

“Very well, Mr. Cudmore. Let’s be kind.”

So far the clinic hadn’t been busy but Eileen was expecting she’d be receiving workers as the day went on. She was glad she’d stocked up recently on sleeping draughts. With the horrendous events of Sunday and the drubbing the city had taken the previous week, she knew she’d be asked to dispense them. Fortunately, her requisitions were usually approved by Mr. Cudmore, who was only too happy to sign off on such things. Endicott, who periodically stuck his fat finger in, never liked to see evidence of what he called high-strung females.

The waiting room door opened and Lev Kaplan entered. He was carrying a brown paper bag, which he thrust at her.

“Good morning, Sister. My thank-you gift … No, no, don’t refuse until you see what it is. Then I know you will have to accept.”

She peeked into the bag. It smelled of coffee.

“I know you Limeys love your tea, but if you ever had a chance to taste real American coffee you would change your entire way of life.”

“We have coffee here,” Eileen answered, exasperated.

“Camp Coffee Essence is not remotely like the real thing. It’s like comparing sludge to single-malt Scotch. This coffee is soluble in water, so it’s fast and easy to make and it’s almost as good as brewed coffee. I assume you don’t own a percolator, do you?”

Eileen laughed. “You are quite right, Mr. Kaplan, I don’t have a percolator. I’m not even sure what that is.”

“Would you mind calling me Lev? Only my bank manager and the War Ministry refer to me as Mr. Kaplan. It puts a distance between us.”

“That might not be a bad idea.”

“Too pushy, huh?”

“Far too pushy.”

“How long will I have to wait until you feel you know me well enough to spend a few hours in my company? Come on, what’s the worst that can happen? You will be bored to death? Offended beyond human endurance? Either way it’s only four hours out of your life, and who knows how long anybody has these days.” He made his face serious but his eyes were laughing.

“What four hours are you referring to?”

“I would like to invite you to a dance at the Jewish Association fundraiser. Tomorrow night.”

“I couldn’t possibly—”

He interrupted her. “I know we haven’t known each other very long—”

“Twenty-four hours, to be exact.”

“These days, that’s loads of time. Do say you’ll come. It’s a most worthy cause.”

“I … er …”

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now. I’ll be back soon to do some shooting.”

“What do you mean, shooting?”

“I thought I’d do some filming with Mr. Endicott and you.”

“What!”

He looked around the clinic. “Like I said, this is a nice, friendly space. It will go down well. I have to do something with him that looks inviting, so I thought I’d bring him here.”

Her expression obviously betrayed her feelings about her boss.

“See it as an act of patriotism,” said Lev.

“Really, Mr. Kaplan, I’m sure you could find better subjects from among our workers.”

“You are far too modest, Miss Abbott. I cannot think of another person who better conveys kindness and competence all nicely blended together.”

She regarded him doubtfully, not sure if he was teasing or laying on insincere dollops of flattery. Neither seemed to be the case.

“That’s settled, then. Enjoy the coffee. I’ll be back later.” He left.

Eileen was still holding the paper bag. She inhaled deeply. It was true she hadn’t had much coffee in her life, but if that wonderful aroma was anything to go by she was going to enjoy it a lot.

A sharp little voice spoke at the back of her mind.
And that isn’t all you think you might enjoy. Don’t lie to yourself, Eileen Abbott
.

Mrs. Valerie Castleford was a short, plump woman still on the hopeful side of middle age. Normally probably attractive in a lush way, today her eyes were red and swollen and her skin blotchy. Nevertheless she’d taken care with her appearance and she was dressed in a smart, snug-fitting tweed suit and matching hat. Like Cudmore, she was wearing a black arm band. Her husband appeared to be some years older and was grey to her blonde. He seemed at a complete loss as to how to help her and could only pat her arm periodically, a gesture she ignored. She pulled a handkerchief from her handbag and burst into tears as soon as she sat down.

“Take your time, Mrs. Castleford,” said Tyler. “I know what a dreadful shock this has all been. It would help me if you just tell me in your own words what happened, from the time you first arrived at the factory until after the explosion.”

The very word seemed to make her flinch. “There was nothing but confusion when I arrived. The change room was locked, nobody knew where the key was, and the girls from both sections were in the cloakroom area, waiting. Normally I’m there
first, you see, but wouldn’t you know it, on this one Sunday of all Sundays, I was a bit late. I sing in the choir at my church and the organist wanted to speak to me afterwards.”