‘To get to Crosswell you would need to go by way of Gledge End, wouldn’t you?’
‘Not really. We took the narrow road this side of Long Cove Bay, so we by-passed the town.’
‘In that case you would have passed the spot where Mrs Tyne was killed. I may as well tell you that, sir.’
‘But we would have been miles ahead of her, Inspector. We can kick hell out of our tandem and anyway we left the hostel before she did and did not stop anywhere until we got to Crosswell.’
‘Quite so, sir, I would like you to stay here while I go over to the hostel.’
‘Willie will confirm my story, you know.’
‘No doubt he will, sir. By the way, Mrs Tyne was quite a generously built lady, was she not?’
‘Generously built? You must be joking, Inspector. She was as thin as I am, but not quite so tall. One of our problems is that Peggy can’t get into Judy’s dance costumes and Pippa can’t dance. Are you trying to trick me? You’ve seen her body, haven’t you?’
Ribble was not gone long. Willie confirmed Mick’s story in every particular, so the inspector took Peter and Ronnie back with him to the cottage and put one more question to Mick before he released him.
‘Which restaurant did you and Willie patronise in Grosswell, sir?’
‘Oh, we went to the Anchor and sat at the table in the far window on the left as you go in. I’m sure they’ll remember us — Willie sent back the soup because it wasn’t hot enough.’
‘Quite a useful alibi if one is needed,’ thought Ribble. Peter and Ronnie could offer no more help than the others had been able to give. They had left the hostel a little later than anybody else, and had cycled north-east to a holiday resort called Stone-ship where there was an indoor heated swimming pool with its own restaurant and a hall for table-tennis. There they claimed to have spent the entire day.
All the stories would need to be confirmed by independent witnesses, Ribble decided. He dismissed the young men and asked them to send Pippa to him.
Chapter 8: MAIDEN PINK
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‘There’s a lot I’ve got to tell you,’ said Pippa.
‘Yes, miss?’
‘You don’t really think one of us killed Judy, do you?’
‘I have to look at all the possibilities, miss.’
‘But what about that convict who escaped?’
‘It wasn’t his kind of murder. He poisoned his wife. He isn’t the violent type. We warned people that he was on the loose, but that was so that we could get information which would lead to us being able to catch him. It wasn’t because we thought he would attack anybody.’
‘Not if he wanted money or food?’
‘Ah, that might be another matter. Now, miss, what did you want to tell me?’
‘Oh, aren’t you going to grill me?’
‘I should soon be in serious trouble if I did that, miss. There is just one question. Will you tell me exactly how you spent Thursday?’
‘Oh, yes, of course.’ Pippa searched his good-tempered, pleasant face, turning large, serious, dark eyes on him. She was very much like Mick, he thought, without being in the least degree pretty. He put her down as being about twenty years old, but in fact she was twenty-six. ‘I left the hostel on foot at just before ten,’ she said, ‘and spent the day with my friends.’
‘Where was this, miss?’
‘At the nearest farm. It belongs to some people called Ramsgill. It’s only about a mile and a half from here, so I didn’t take my bicycle. I thought the walk would do me good.’
‘So you got to the farm before eleven, miss.’
‘Oh, yes. 1 suppose I was there quite by half-past ten.’
‘Were they expecting you?’
‘Not exactly, but — well, no, they were not expecting me. I got to know them earlier on in the year when I was researching folk music. Mr Ramsgill’s father was living with them and I had heard on the grapevine that he knew a local version of Heather on the Moor, so I went along to ask him to sing it to me, which he did. They told me to drop in whenever I was in the neighbourhood, so when the others all had plans for the day and Judy went off in a temper after her row with Peggy, I thought of the farm and walked over there. Of course there were two things I didn’t know, but even if I had known I think I would still have gone.’
‘I can guess one of them, but not the other, and I don’t suppose either of them would have anything to do with my enquiry, would it, miss?’
‘No, of course not, but, for what they are worth, I didn’t know old Mr Ramsgill had died only the month before, and I didn’t know that a lodger had taken his place in the spare bedroom.’
‘Did you meet this lodger, miss?’
‘Oh, yes. He wanted to take me out on the back of his motorcycle, but I explained that it was Mrs Ramsgill I had come to see. When she went out of the room to see about lunch he offered to show me his room, but of course I didn’t let him. I think he thought I was younger and greener than I am. I didn’t take to him much. I sold him a ticket for our show, though. That was before he asked me to go upstairs with him. We just sat and talked until Mrs Ramsgill came back and then he told her he would get his lunch in Long Cove Bay, so she and I had lunch when Mr Ramsgill came in, and I stayed to tea and walked back to the hostel.’
‘So you spent several hours at the farm?’
‘Yes. I didn’t leave until nearly half-past five.’
‘And you did not go out from the farmhouse until you walked back to the hostel?’
‘That’s right. Mrs Ramsgill and I had a good long gossip. I asked her how she came to have a lodger and she said it was only a temporary thing. He had come last Tuesday afternoon and asked to stay for the rest of the week. He said he was on holiday and had put in a night at the hostel. He didn’t like it much and didn’t want to stay any longer, but he wanted to remain in the neighbourhood. Well, she had the spare room and he seemed quiet and was well-spoken, so she took him. She said she missed having somebody else in the house after her father-in-law died, and thought this boy would be company for her, but on Tuesday he hired this motorbike and she saw very little of him. He used to take sandwiches or something else to eat and stayed out all day. On Wednesday night he didn’t come back at all. He told her next day that the motorcycle had broken down and left him stranded in Wayland Forest, where one of the cabin holiday-makers had given him a bed and dried his clothes for him.’
‘And you met him the next day, miss, on Thursday?’
‘Yes.’
‘I shall have to look him up. If he was out on the moor on Thursday he may have seen something of Mrs Tyne. You wouldn’t know how he got his motorbike repaired so quickly, I suppose?’
‘No. Mrs Ramsgill told me about the way he stayed out all night because it had broken down, but he certainly had it when I visited the farm on Thursday. I saw it there before he rode off on it. He was very hurt when I wouldn’t go with him.’
‘It’s a point of no importance unless he spotted Mrs Tyne, but at what time did he leave the farm on Thursday? You said he did not have the midday meal there.’
‘I should think he went off at about twelve.’
‘He will still be at the farm, then, if he was staying a week. Now, miss, what can you tell me about the quarrel between the two ladies?’
‘Oh, dear! It doesn’t seem very nice to talk about Judy’s quarrels now that she’s dead, does it?’
‘If you could consult her, miss, she might like it to be known who killed her and whether it was by accident or design.’
‘Oh, I hadn’t thought of it like that. Oh, well, I’ll tell you what I can, then. They never did get on, Judy and Peggy. They got across one another almost as soon as Judy joined us. I suppose, being married and running the play-school and all that, she thought herself superior to Peggy, who wasn’t married and taught in a rather tatty little school where she thought her talents were wasted. I asked her once why she didn’t apply for a better job. She said she had an invalid mother who owned the house they lived in and refused to move. She said her brother and his wife had the old lady for a fortnight in the summer and the October half-term week, but wouldn’t take on more than that because she was so cantankerous and upset the children, so Peggy had to cope. It didn’t make her very easy to get on with and she and Judy were always at loggerheads, especially over Mickie. They both wanted to mother him, goodness knows why. He’s my brother, but I got sick of minding him when he was little.’