‘You think my loss may tie up with the theft at the hostel?’
‘I don’t think anything at the moment, sir. I am still collecting what evidence I can.’
‘You don’t mean that this ties up with the murders, do you? I have had three cancellations of late autumn bookings already.’
‘I don’t think anything and I don’t mean anything. Finished, March? Right, then. By your leave, sir.’ He went over to the filing-cabinet.
He was patient and thorough. It had occurred to him that L also stood for Lindsay. Only the L files were missing.
‘The interesting thing is, ma’am,’ said Ribble, ‘that one missing file was that of the cabin which the forest warden had let to the four young ladies.’
‘Are the files comprehensive?’
‘How do you mean, ma’am?’
‘Do they list the names and addresses of all the occupants of a cabin, or do they show only the name of the person who made the booking?’
‘Oh, this warden is very conscientious indeed, ma’am. The name and address of the person who booked is on the file, and marked with a red asterisk, but also on the record are the names and addresses of the other tenants. As he explained to me, he cannot be too careful, as the tenants are not covered by insurance so far as the Forestry Commission is concerned, so he feels personally responsible for the safety of every one of them. Of course, family parties (which he says a great many of them are) go down under the name of the husband and under his address, and the rest is written off as Mrs Whatever-the-Name-Is and the number of children, but if it’s a mixed party or a male or female party of adults, all the names go down and any addresses which are different from the address of the person who makes the booking.’
‘The system sounds very thorough.’
‘Well, ma’am, when you multiply the number of cabins with a possible five or even six people in each, he’s responsible for a fair number of holidaymakers. I shall be interested to see whether the dabs from the hostel and the dabs from the filing-cabinet can tell us anything. I took the precaution of fingerprinting the dancers before I let them go.’
‘You shall pursue the dabs; I will become a dabbler,’ said Dame Beatrice.
‘Ma’am?’
‘I propose to roam the wild wet woods in search of Amanita phalloides.’
‘Ah, this death-cap toad-stool the murderer seems so fond of.’
‘To sum it up in those words seems to suggest that he might choose to eat it, in which case our hunt would not be up, but over. It is a little late in the season to find this particular fungus, but, as the murderer seems to have access to it, there must be some specimens about.’
She set out, accompanied by Laura.
‘I suppose I mustn’t ask any why or wherefore?’ said the latter, when they reached the entrance to the forest.
‘Better not. Can you keep the car down to about twenty-five miles an hour, stopping now and then, opening the bonnet and affecting to tinker with the engine? I want to give somebody a chance to catch up with us and pass us.’
‘I should think they would be glad of the chance if I ’m to drive so slowly. I’m consumed with curiosity, needless to say. Are we being pursued by wicked men? Is my wallet safe? — not that there’s very much in it.’
‘There was a tandem parked outside the Ewe and Lamb.’
‘Couldn’t be the tandem, could it? That one must have been jettisoned miles away from here.’
‘One would suppose so, but a means of transport is a means of transport and not (except in gangster films) an amenity which is too readily sacrificed. Besides, what you so rightly distinguish as the tandem is the last thing the police will be expecting to find so near Gledge End, from which it disappeared. A bold bluff pays off more often than not.’
‘But what makes the connection in your mind?’
‘Only the presence of a tandem outside the Ewe and Lamb. I think I am being kept under observation.’
‘I don’t like the sound of that. Two women have been killed already.’
‘For a reason which would not apply to me.’
Several cars passed them when Laura stopped and opened the bonnet. Dame Beatrice, apparently interested only in watching Laura’s tinkering, noted with satisfaction that a tandem, with a man and a girl on it, both pedalling furiously, shot past only about a quarter of a mile from the forest carpark.
‘Come out from there,’ she said, ‘and full speed ahead. ’ When Laura had parked the car, Dame Beatrice approached a boy who was eating potato crisps.
‘You wouldn’t have seen my nephew and his wife get off a tandem just now?’ she said. The boy pointed.
‘They went that way,’ he said.
‘Thank you. Come, Laura, perhaps we can catch up with them.’
‘Easy,’ said the boy. ‘They weren’t hurrying.’
Dame Beatrice and Laura turned into one of the forest ‘rides’ and found it bordered and sheltered by a big plantation of larches. Most of the foliage had been shed. Only the fir-cones remained on many of the trees.
Dame Beatrice stopped and addressed one of them, observing that she regretted her lack of interest in Larix decidua, but assuring the tree that this was only a temporary matter.
‘What we are looking for,’ she said, ‘is a group of Fagus sylvatica or possibly Quercus rober.’ She spoke loudly.
‘I doubt whether we shall find beeches in these parts,’ said Laura, ‘but oaks ought to be fairly plentiful. The foresters must have planted hardwood trees as well as the pines and larches.’
A little further on its downward-sloping way the narrow woodland road came out into a clearing. Standing in the middle of it were a noticeably sturdy young man and a plump young woman. They were looking at a solitary sheep which was standing beside a little, boulder-strewn stream. Dame Beatrice, followed by Laura, walked up to the group.
‘I wonder,’ she said, ‘whether you can help me.’
‘Try us,’ said the girl. ‘Have you lost your way?’
‘No, not our way, but our objective. We are looking for oak trees. We are informed that a variety of the edible fungus allied to the common mushroom, the wood-mushroom, can be found growing beneath them.’
‘That’s right,’ said the young man. ‘Cross the beck and follow the path uphill. We’ll show you the way, if you like. Mind you don’t slip on the stones.’
Less than fifteen minues brought the party to a noble grove of oaks. Under the trees there appeared to be two species of fungi. Dame Beatrice pointed this out.
‘I wonder which is the species we want? The two kinds look much alike to the untrained eye,’ she said.
‘Yes, you want to be careful,’ said the man.
‘Personally, you won’t catch me eating any of the nasty things,’ said the young woman. ‘I don’t take any risks of that sort, thank you.’
‘Oh, nonsense, Marion,’ said her companion. ‘You just have to learn to distinguish the edible kind from the rest.’ He stooped and picked up an appetising-looking specimen which had a yellowish cap and as he pressed it in his hand it gave out a smell reminiscent of anise. ‘This is the chap you’ve got to avoid,’ he said. ‘These,’ he pointed to a yellowish-green specimen not unlike the other, ‘are what you’re after.’
‘Really?’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘How deceptive Nature can be. If you had not told me, I should have thought it was the other way round,’
‘Well, it isn’t.’ He flung down the squashed mess over which his hand had closed, went down to the beck and, kneeling, washed his hand in the clear, brown, ice-cold water and dried it on his handkerchief. ‘If you ate any of those,’ he said, ‘you’d be dead in twelve hours, but the other kind are all right. Oh, well — but you haven’t got a basket. How are you going to carry your mushrooms home?’