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Authors: Maureen Reynolds

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BOOK: McQueen's Agency
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Mary scuttled off to the kitchen like a frightened animal. It was clear she hadn’t told her mother what had happened.

Molly said, ‘Don’t bother with tea for us, Mrs Watt. I wondered if Mary could come down to the office, as we have some important paperwork to finish before tomorrow. I know it’s a Sunday, but I would be very grateful if she could help out.’

‘Of course she can. Mary, Miss McQueen would like you to go to the office to help out with paperwork. Hurry and get your coat on.’

Molly hated lying to the woman but she didn’t want to get Mary into trouble. Mary appeared wearing her coat and a frightened expression.

‘It’ll only take an hour, Mrs Watt, and I’ll make sure Mary gets her fare back home.’

Before they reached the tram stop, a tall, pretty girl shouted over, ‘Hullo Mary, where did you get to last night? I had to come home on my own.’

Mary went over. ‘I’m never going back with you to the Palais, Rita, I’m going to Kidd’s Rooms next week where I know nearly everyone.’ She then turned and walked away, leaving Rita with an astonished look.

Edna couldn’t resist a parting shot at the girl. ‘Close your mouth, love, you might swallow a wasp.’

Back in the office, Molly put Mary at her ease. ‘Now Mary, Edna has told me about your meeting last night with a stranger who seemed to want to know all about me and the agency. Can you tell me any more details?’

Mary shook her head. ‘I didn’t know him. I usually go to Kidd’s Rooms with Rita but she’s a wee bit older than me and she finds it a bit juvenile for her liking. That’s her words, not mine. So she suggested we should go to the Palais, which is a great place, but filled with lots more people and most of them were older than me.’ She looked at Molly.

‘I never mentioned to Mum about going there as she would be mad. She doesn’t care too much for Rita.’

Mary recounted the tale and then said, ‘When I tried to get away from him, he grabbed my belt and he’s torn my new dress. The belt tabs are torn and it’s made holes in the side seams. I only bought it yesterday.’ She sounded sad and Molly thought she was going to cry.

‘I’ll give you some extra money next week, Mary, to replace the dress. How did you get the bruise on your neck?’

Mary went red with embarrassment and pulled her scarf tighter around her neck. After a few moments she whispered, ‘When I didn’t tell him what he wanted to know, he grabbed my neck and squeezed it really tight. I couldn’t breathe.’

The two women looked at one another in shock.

‘Can you describe him?’

‘He was very well dressed and much older than me. I thought he looked the same age as Rita’s brother who’s thirty. He had a thin face and lovely dark wavy hair. And he had been drinking because I could smell the alcohol on his breath. He also had a large mole at the side of his cheek.’

Molly felt a sharp shock. It sounded like Mike, but why would he question a young girl about the agency. Molly stood up. ‘You’ve been a great help, Mary, and we’ll see you tomorrow after school. It won’t be long till you leave and it’ll be such a relief to have you here every day.’

Molly added, ‘Be careful about who you meet on Saturday nights, Mary. If he comes near you again, go to the nearest policeman for help.’

As she was going out the door, she turned. Her face was puzzled. ‘There’s one thing I’ve remembered. Although I didn’t know him I have the funniest feeling I’ve seen him before but I can’t remember where.’

When she was gone, Edna said, ‘What do you make of that?’

‘I don’t know, Edna, but I think I know who he is. He works for the couple I’m working for at Cliff Top House. His name’s Mike and I don’t like him. I can’t prove it’s him but I’ll be keeping a look out for him in the future.’

Edna went to take her son to the park while Molly locked the door and set off for the ferry. She sat on the top deck and let the wind blow through her hair. Her mind was in turmoil about the latest developments. As Edna said, what was going on?

The difficult thing was, Molly didn’t know.

11

Tam was finishing his breakfast and was on the point of taking Rover out for his morning walk when there was a loud knock on the door.

Tam was puzzled as he normally didn’t have many visitors, and was astonished to see DS Johns standing in the dark lobby and he wasn’t in uniform.

‘Can I come in, Mr Burns?’

Tam stood aside. ‘Aye, in you come. What’s brought you here?’

The detective seemed to fill the small kitchen with his bulky figure while Rover did an agitated dance of disapproval around his size twelve boots.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ said Tam, chastising Rover for his barking.

‘No, thank you. Can I sit down?’

Tam pulled the newspaper from the fireside chair and sat down with a sigh.

‘I swear my legs are getting worse every year,’ he said and pointed to the paper. ‘I’ve been looking for more news of Harry but there hasn’t been a word except for that very first wee bit when his body was found and a small item about me knowing him.’

‘No, that’s why I’m here. He doesn’t seem to have any family and his last address was in Hull. The police down there went to investigate but according to a neighbour he lived alone. This neighbour had a key and the police didn’t discover very much. He lived in the flat on the odd occasion when he was ashore and he didn’t have very much money. He paid his rent on time and his bills but other than that he only appeared to have enough to live on, but not much more.’

‘Aye he told me he had no family and that he had been all round the world on various ships. He had been a crew member on the liners for a short time but worked mainly on the cargo ships. It was his first trip to Dundee and it’s such a shame that he met his death here. I was wondering what the arrangements are for his funeral.’

‘Well yes, that’s another reason for this visit. The police found an insurance policy in his name and there will be enough money to bury him. The neighbour, when asked his opinion about a burial site, said it wouldn’t matter where he was laid to rest because the sea was his life and he was never at home on dry land. So that’s why I’m here. The burial takes place today at ten thirty at Balgay Cemetery and I’d like you to come, if that’s possible.’

Tam jumped up from his seat. ‘I’ll just get my coat and cap.’

‘I’ve got a car outside to take us there and I’ll bring you back home.’

Rover didn’t look too happy at being left alone, especially as his morning walk had been curtailed to a quick trip down the street where he managed to leave his mark behind on every lamp post.

There was a young police constable driving the black car and the two men got into the back seat. It didn’t take long to reach the cemetery and they had to walk a few hundred yards to the grave site.

Two cemetery gravediggers and a church minister stood by the open grave as the black hearse drew slowly to a stop. The solemn-faced undertaker and two pall bearers carried the plain wooden coffin slowly. It had one wreath of carnations on top.

Tam felt tears spring to his eyes at the sadness of Harry’s death. He was a man with no family and very few friends by the look of it. He wished he had brought some flowers.

The minister said a moving little service and then it was all over. The two gravediggers covered the grave with a green board and no doubt would fill the hole in later, shovelling earth on Harry who loved the sea and the wild elements of gigantic waves and the feel of a force eight gale in his face. Not this small plot of earth amongst hundreds of other graves.

What kind of life had he lived? thought Tam. Had it been a happy one?

Then they were back in the car. When they reached the centre of town, the detective sergeant got out with Tam and told the constable to take the police car back.

‘Let’s go and have a drink Tam. Where do you recommend?’

‘The City Centre Bar … where I met Harry the night he died.’

The bar was quiet as it had only opened for business less than an hour earlier. The policeman bought Tam a double rum and a pint of beer for himself and they sat at a table.

They both had their own thoughts.

Suddenly Tam said, ‘Harry didn’t fall into the water accidentally. Someone must have pushed him. Harry was too much of a seaman to trip over something lying on the dock.’

The DS Johns stroked his chin. ‘Well, Tam, that’s the official cause of death. There were no marks or bruises on his body except for the head wound which he got when he struck his head after falling. And, of course, he had been drinking.’

‘But he wasn’t drunk.’

DS Johns took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, offered one to Tam who shook his head.

After he lit up, he leaned back in his seat. ‘Let’s look at this from another angle, Tam. Why would anyone want to push Harry into the river? He was a stranger in the town. He’d never been in Dundee before. Who could have wanted him dead? He wasn’t a rich man. The insurance money will cover his funeral costs but there will be hardly anything left over.’

‘What about one of his shipmates on
The Mary Anne
?’

‘They were all questioned when the body was found. The same men were on board then as on the trip made by Harry. He was a stranger to them. They had all done this trip before except for him and they all say they liked him but he kept himself very much to himself. The captain said he was private man. A stranger on the boat and a stranger in the city.’

‘Then why are you bothering about him? This man who is a stranger to both of us?’

DS Johns stubbed out his cigarette and gazed at Tam. A shrewd old man, he thought. Yes, why am I bothering myself with a dead stranger?

‘I just didn’t want him to have a lonely burial I suppose.’

The two men parted outside the bar. ‘Keep in touch, Tam. Maybe we can have another drink together.’

Later that afternoon Tam took Rover for his walk and made his way to the docks.

Quite a few ships were being unloaded and the place was busy. Tam kept out of the stevedores’ way as they loaded and unloaded cargoes in and out of the ships’ holds.

He walked over to the spot where Rover had sniffed the rusty stain. It was faint now due to the weather. Rain had swept the concrete wharves in the time since Harry had last walked here.

Tam had a good look around. This part of the dock wasn’t as wide as the rest, due to a small crane taking up part of the walkway. Harry would have had to skirt around this crane which would have taken him near the edge.

A thick, oily rope lay coiled on the ground. One end attached to a hook on the crane. Tam bent down and inspected the rope. There was no way Harry would have got entangled with it, yet this was supposed to be the cause of his death. Lying near the edge of the dock was a metal ring inserted into the concrete. There were shreds of hemp attached to it.

Tam was excited. What if someone had tied the rope on the night Harry died, hoping to trip him up and send him into the dark, oil-slicked water?

Suddenly he became afraid. He looked towards the boats but no one seemed to be taking any notice of him, yet Tam was aware that there were hundreds of pairs of eyes perhaps watching him.

He pretended to tie his shoelaces then straightened up. ‘Come on, Rover.’

As he walked away he didn’t know that someone had seen him, and that person was now very worried.

Tam crossed over Dock Street towards his house and as he reached the end of his close he looked back. He had the strangest feeling someone was following him but there was hardly anyone on the street.

Two men came out of the Dole office at the corner of Gellatly Street and there was a woman doing her shopping.

A man suddenly turned the corner but he also made for the Dole office. Tam climbed the stair with Rover, glad to be back home as he wanted to mull over the rope fragments on the ring.

As he made a cup of tea, he decided it was just a coincidence and resolved to put the matter out of his mind.

DS Johns was probably right when he said it was an accident.

12

Molly had decided to find out the truth behind Mary’s dancing partner and his strange behaviour.

As she drove slowly into the courtyard, she heard raised voices coming from the house. She let herself into the office and saw a huge pile of invoices to be dealt with.

The voices were coming from the kitchen and she recognised Lena and Joe’s raised tones.

‘I’m telling you, Lena, that consignment never arrived. I checked it all over twice.’

‘Well, it should have arrived last week along with the other crates, so where is it?’

Suddenly the door opened and Lena came in. She looked tired and pale. Her hair hung in waves on her shoulders, almost as if the hair was too heavy for her head.

‘Oh, Molly, I didn’t hear you come in. As you see we’ve had a busy weekend with deliveries, but one crate is missing. Can you phone the harbour master and get him to check if it’s still lying about the docks?’

Molly got through right away to the harbour master and yes, the missing crate was waiting to be picked up.

‘Thank goodness for that,’ said Lena. ‘I’ll get Joe or Mike to go and pick it up.’

That was interesting thought Molly. Was that why Mike had been in Dundee on Saturday?

‘Has the crate been missing for long?’ she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.

‘Yes, since last weekend.’

Well that let Mike off the hook for this Saturday.

Lena sat down and sighed. ‘I’m not sleeping very well with the pain in my arm. It seems to be getting worse instead of better.’

Molly didn’t know what to say but nodded sympathetically.

After the invoices were finished, she had to go out to the sheds to check the new arrivals.

Joe, Mike and Christie were all there, checking crates against a list in Joe’s hand.

‘Well that’s everything checked except the missing box, but we’ll collect that later.’

‘Do you want me to go over for it?’ said Christie.

Joe gave this a bit of thought. ‘No, you went on Saturday to the shop. Mike can go. He hasn’t been over to the docks for a while.’

Molly almost tripped over a box when she heard this. So Mary’s assailant couldn’t have been Mike. She looked at Christie and wondered if he was the man Mary had met. His hair was thick and brown, not as luxuriant as Mike’s but in a dark dance hall would Mary have noticed the colour? But why hadn’t she recognised the Canadian accent? Could he perhaps change his voice when it suited him?

BOOK: McQueen's Agency
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