They watched, from the cover of some bushes. Suddenly Alice touched Laura’s arm. Crete Tidson was coming along the railway path. She walked with a long, free stride and was softly whistling the Soldier’s Chorus from Faust.
‘Now what?’ muttered Laura, drawing her companions deeper into the bushes. ‘Look out, Kitty! Don’t fall backwards down the bank. The water’s filthy down there.’
The unsuspecting Crete soon joined her husband, and then they walked towards the girls and stood on the brick-work. Their antics were instructive and peculiar. First one and then the other would toss the boot into the water. It was retrieved every time with the fishing line, on the end of which was a meat-hook. As soon as this hook took hold of a piece of bent wire which had been fastened between the eyelet-holes of the boot to form an arch, the line was reeled in and the catch removed from the hook. Each partner did this in turn.
A group of little boys came along and inspected the strange proceedings. At one time there must have been a dozen of them or more. They were difficult to count because they were hardly ever still, for they followed the adventures of the boot, and occasionally waded into the stream to retrieve it for the Tidsons when it fell over the edge of the concrete slab and into the rapids below.
On the approach of some grown-up people, Mr Tidson, whose turn it was to fish, and who had just hooked the boot for the fourth time since the girls and the audience of children had been watching, took the trophy and flung it into a clump of bushes on the other side of the stream. Then he put up the rod, and, accompanied by his wife (after he had distributed some coppers among the children), walked under the railway arch, so that the girls lost sight of both of them.
The children followed him. Very soon some of them returned. They seemed half-inclined to paddle across the stream in search of the boot. This scheme was abandoned, however, and after about ten minutes the children went away again.
‘So that’s how it could have been done,’ said Alice thoughtfully.
‘What could?’ Kitty enquired.
‘Enticement, duck,’ said Laura. ‘You could collect fifty kids as easy as winking, and look them over and decide upon the victim. You could bet kids would fall for a silly stunt like that boot business. They’re like sheep when there’s something daft or dangerous to look at.’
‘Doesn’t sound to me like sheep,’ objected Kitty.
‘Well, you know what I mean. I’m going to nab the Inspector if Mrs Croc. isn’t back, and put him wise to this. Otherwise there may be another murder before we know where we are. I can’t understand why Tidson shows his hand like this, though, and, unless he’a a homicidal maniac, I can’t see the point in what he’s doing.’
‘What a wicked old man!’ cried Kitty. ‘How dare he murder little boys!’
‘Of course, we don’t know that he does, duck. Alice only said that’s how the victim could have been chosen, and I agreed with her. I do think he might be the murderer, but we’ve still to prove it.’
‘Yes,’ said Alice. ‘If he’s the murderer he’s a fool to show his hand so openly, but, all the same, as I say, it just proves how easy it is to get hold of children, and I think Mrs Bradley ought to know about it.’
‘And the Inspector,’ reiterated Laura. ‘Goodness knows when Mrs Croc. will be back, and now we have these suspicions I don’t think we ought to hold our horses. Even one more day might may make a difference.’
‘Before we leave the place,’ said Kitty, ‘what about retrieving the boot?’
‘Not a bad idea. What about fingerprints, though? We don’t want to superimpose ours on Mr Tidson’s,’ said Alice. To her astonishment and discomfort, Laura suddenly slapped her on the back.
‘That’s it! Of course!’ she cried. ‘Oh, no, though, it isn’t, at that, unless they knew we were watching, and I don’t think they did.’
‘What on earth are you babbling about, Dog?’ asked Kitty resentfully.
‘Be prepared for a great thought, duck,’ Laura responded. ‘Supposing there were some reason – some subtle and horrible reason – why Tidson’s or Crete’s fingerprints were on that boot before this afternoon – that second boy was barefoot, you know, when he was found – it would be to their advantage to have witnesses to this afternoon’s little game. Well, they’ve got their witnesses, although the audience was mostly a gang of kids. All the same, our first idea may be right – you know, a way of deciding which kid to pick out for the next little bump on the head.’
‘With a half-brick,’ said Kitty, without foreseeing the result of these words. Laura gazed at her spellbound, then spoke in reverent tones:
‘Not your own unaided thought? Attababy! We’ll go after that boot! The half-brick may be over there, too. By the way, we think this boy was wearing sandals, but never mind that. Go on, young Alice! Watch your step. There are old tin cans below the weir, or my eyes deceive me.’
‘We’ll all go,’ said Alice firmly. ‘I’m not going alone to a bank where bodies slide out of the bushes!’
‘I shan’t go,’ said Kitty, with a shudder. ‘You’ll need someone on this side to look after your shoes and stockings. Go with her, Dog. Don’t be so lazy. And both of you mind how you go. There might be something horrid again in those bushes. I’m sure there’s a nasty smell.’
Laura sniffed the air. ‘You’re about right at that,’ she agreed. ‘I thought at first it was merely the “unforgettable, unforgotten” mentioned by R. Brooke, but I don’t believe it’s the river, after all. It’s a much worse stink than any river could manage. I thought something put those kids off. Kids are apt to have delicate noses. Of course, the local council’s rubbish dump isn’t so far away, but, all the same—’
‘I’m not going to be made responsible for finding another body,’ said Alice, with a shudder. ‘One is enough. I’m not going over there, Dog. You had better go and fetch the police.’
‘Fie, fie upon thee!’ replied Laura, sitting down upon the brickwork and removing her shoes and stockings. ‘Here goes. It’s probably a dead rabbit the stoats have had, that’s all.’
Without another word Alice sat down beside her, and, stony-eyed but loyal, immediately followed her example, and removed her stockings and shoes.
‘Now don’t go to sleep, K.,’ said the leader of the expedition, lowering herself to the concrete with its inch or two of swiftly-running water. ‘We may want help, and we may want a message taken. Come on, young Alice, and look out, because it’s hellishly slippery on this stone stuff, and if you fall you may easily crack a bone.’
‘Don’t worry. I feel like a dog on a tight-rope,’ said Alice. This striking simile caused Laura to choke with surprise and she missed her footing. Slipping wildly on the slimy concrete, she flung herself at the opposite bank, determined not to fall down.
‘Oh, gosh!’ she cried, as a cloud of flies, of a green-winged nauseating kind, rose up in a cloud like bees from an overturned hive. ‘It’s a – I think it’s a dead animal of some sort. No, definitely nothing human, but I should go back, if I were you. It isn’t terribly nice, and there’s not more than half of it left!’
‘Phew!’ said Alice. ‘I hope we shan’t be poisoned! How long do you think it’s been dead?’
‘Days, Days and days, I should say. Come on. Let’s go.’ They retreated, and, at Alice’s suggestion, took the long way home.
‘I feel I need a breath of fresh air,’ she explained. The consequence was that they reached the hotel at five, and dead-heated with Mrs Bradley, who had returned to the Domus from Lewes.