He met Martin on the forecourt of the police station. Janet Tipping couldn’t be found. As usual on Saturday night she had gone out with her boyfriend, and her mother had told Martin with a show of aggressive indifference that it was nothing for her to return as late as one or two o’clock. The cottage was dirty and the mother a slattern. She didn’t know where her daughter was and, on being asked to hazard a guess, said that Janet and her friend had probably gone for a spin to the coast on his motor-bike.
Burden knocked on Wexford’s door and the Chief Inspector shouted to him to come in.
Drury and Wexford sat facing each other.
‘Let’s go over Tuesday evening again,’ Wexford was saying. Burden moved silently into one of the steel and tweed chairs. The clock on the wall, between the filing cabinet where Doon’s books still lay and the map of Kingsmarkham, said that it wanted ten minutes to midnight.
‘I left the shop at a quarter past five and I drove straight to Flagford. When I got to Spellman’s they were closed so I went down the side and looked round the greenhouses. I called out a couple of times but they’d all gone. Look, I’ve told you all this.’
Wexford said quietly, ‘All right, Drury. Let’s say I’ve got a bad memory.’
Drury’s voice had become very high and strained. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead.
‘I had a look round to see if the order was anywhere about, but it wasn’t.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I was a bit fed-up on account of my wife wanting the vegetables for tea. I drove slowly through the village because I thought I might see Mr Spellman and get him to let me have the order, but I didn’t see him.’
‘Did you see anybody you know, anybody you used to know when you lived in Flagford?’
‘There were some kids,’ Drury said. ‘I don’t know who they were. Look, I’ve told you the rest. I went into The Swan and this girl served me . . .’
‘What did you have to drink?’
‘A half of bitter.’ He blushed. At the lie, Burden wondered, or at the breach of faith? ‘The place was empty. I coughed and after a bit this girl came out from behind the back. I ordered the bitter and paid for it. She’s bound to remember.’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll ask her.’
‘She didn’t stay in the bar. I was all alone. When I’d finished my drink I went back to Spellman’s to see if there was anyone about. I didn’t see anyone and I went home.’
Drury jumped up and gripped the edge of the desk. Wexford’s papers quivered and the telephone receiver rattled in its’ rest.
‘Look,’ he shouted, ‘I’ve told you. I wouldn’t have laid a finger on Margaret.’
‘Sit down,’ Wexford said and Drury crouched back, his face twitching. ‘You were very jealous of her, weren’t you?’ His tone had become conversational, understanding. ‘You didn’t want her to have any friends but you.’
‘That’s not true.’ He tried to shout but his voice was out of control. ‘She was just a girlfriend. I don’t know what you mean, jealous. Of course I didn’t want her going about with other boys when she was with me.’
‘Were you her lover, Drury?’
‘No, I was not.’ He flushed again at the affront. ‘You’ve got no business to ask, me things like that. I was only eighteen.’
‘You gave her a lot of presents, didn’t you, a lot of books?’
‘Doon gave her those books, not me. She’d finished with Doon when she came out with me. I never gave her any thing. I couldn’t afford it.’
‘Where’s Foyle’s, Drury?’
‘It’s in London. It’s a bookshop.’
‘Did you ever buy any books there and give them to Margaret Godfrey?’
‘I tell you I never gave her any books.’
‘What about The Picture of Dorian Gray? You didn’t give her that one. Why did you keep it? Because you thought it would shock her?’
Drury said dully, ‘I’ve given you a specimen of my printing.’
‘Printing changes a lot in twelve years. Tell me about the book.’
‘I have told you. We were in her aunt’s cottage and the book came in a parcel. She opened it and when she saw who’d sent it she said I could have it.’
At last they left him to sit in silence with the sergeant. Together they went outside.
‘I’ve sent Drury’s printing over to that handwriting bloke in St Mary’s Road,’ Wexford said. ‘But printing, Mike, and twelve years ago! It looks as if whoever printed those inscriptions did so because his handwriting was poor or difficult to read. Drury’s writing is very round and clear. I got the feeling he doesn’t write much and his writing’s never matured.’
‘He’s the only person we’ve talked to who called Mrs Parsons Minna,’ Burden said, ‘and who knew about Doon. He had one of those hood things in his house and while it could be one of the other five it could be Mrs Parson’s. If he left his uncle’s at five-ten or five-fifteen even he could have been at Prewett’s by twenty past and by then Bysouth had had those cows in for nearly half an hour.’
The telephones had been silent for a long time now, an unusually long time for the busy police station. What had happened to the call they had been awaiting since lunchtime? Wexford seemed to read his thoughts almost uncannily.
‘We ought to hear from Colorado any minute,’ he said. ‘Calculating roughly that they’re about seven hours behind us in time, suppose Mrs Katz was out for the day, she’d be getting home just about now. It’s half past twelve here and that makes it between five, and six in the West of the United States. Mrs Katz has got little kids. I reckon she and her family have been out for the day and they haven’t been able to get hold of her. But she ought to be coming home about now and I hope they won’t be too long.’
Burden jumped as the bell pealed.’ He lifted the receiver and gave it to Wexford. As soon as he spoke Burden could tell it was just another bit of negative evidence.
‘Yes,’ Wexford said. ‘Yes, thank you very much. I see. Can’t be helped . . . Yes, good night.’
He turned back to Burden. ‘That was Egham, the hand writing fellow. He says Drury could have printed those inscriptions. There’s no question of the printing being disguised, but he says it was very mature for a boy of eighteen and if it’s Drury’s he would have expected a much greater development than Drury’s present specimen shows.’
‘Moreover, there’s another point in his favour. I took a sample from the treads of his tires and although they haven’t finished with it, the lab boys are pretty certain that car hadn’t been parked in a muddy lane since it was new. The stuff I got was mostly sand and dust. Let’s have some tea, Mike.’
Burden cocked his thumb at the door.
‘A cup for him, sir?’
‘My God, yes,’ Wexford said. ‘How many times do I have to tell you? This isn’t Mexico.’
Chapter 13
And I am sometimes proud and sometimes meek, And sometimes I remember days of old . . .
Margaret Godfrey was one of five girls on the stone seat and she sat in the middle of the row. Those who stood behind rested their hands on the shoulders of the seated. Wexford counted twelve faces. The snapshot Diana Stevens had taken was very sharp and clear and the likenesses, even after so long, were good. He re-created in his mind the face he had seen on the damp ground, then stared with awakened curiosity at the face in the sun.