‘Yes, Sir, we were in the Records Office.’
‘All right, you take your place over with her when I give the sign. How about you, Corporal Brayling?’
‘I was back in the ward, Sir. I heard the kerfuffle and came out to the porch, that’s where I met Sanders with the other lads.’
Bix looked to Sanders, ‘You didn’t stay with Miss Farquharson? Even though it was the middle of the night and someone was yelling “thief” at the top of his lungs?’
Sanders had the grace to look a little shame-faced when he said, ‘Come off it, Sarge, it wasn’t that rotten of me. I knew it wouldn’t look good for Rosie, if her and me were found together, I mean. As you say, it was dark and Matron had already hauled her over the coals for being late. I left her by the office and hopped back in, I was hoping to get into the ward—’
‘How did you plan to do that?’ Bix interrupted.
‘Ah, that was me, Sergeant,’ Brayling answered, ‘I’d left the window unlatched for Maurice, so he could get in after he’d said goodnight to Rosie.’
Sergeant Bix shook his head, ‘You really are a shower, you lot. Go on, Sanders.’
‘Well, I hopped in the window, put it back on the latch, and joined the other lads who were heading out for a good gawp from the porch. And you know Rosie can look after herself, Sarge, she’s a good girl.’
‘Very chivalrous, I don’t think,’ Bix responded dryly. ‘How about you, Pawcett?’
‘I was just in the ward too, Sir. We’d all come in late and we’ve already held our hands up to having a few down at the Bridge pub. I’d been sleeping it off and woke with a jump at the yelling, so I came out with the other boys on the porch.’
‘I suppose all of you lads can back up each other’s stories?’
‘’Course we can, Sarge,’ Pawcett said, putting his arms around his fellows. ‘You know us, one for all and all for one, right lads?’
He looked to the two soldiers on either side of him and one by one they nodded, but Bix was still waiting, ‘I want to hear it from each of you men. On your honour.’
Pawcett stood at attention and he saluted as he replied, ‘We were all there, on the porch, Sergeant Bix, Sir!’
Bix turned to Brayling, ‘Brayling?’
‘I saw Maurice, I know that much. I was right up front, so I saw him nip across to join us. It was as he said, he left Rosie in the office, came in through the side window and then bunched up in the porch with the rest of us.’
‘You didn’t see Pawcett?’
Brayling looked uncomfortable, ‘I wasn’t looking behind me, Sarge, all the action was out in the yard.’
‘Fair enough,’ Bix allowed. ‘How about you, Sanders?’
‘Same for me, sorry, Sarge. If Bob says he was with us, then he must have been, right Bob?’
Maurice Sanders turned to face his comrade and the two men looked at each other, eye to eye.
Bob Pawcett nodded to his mate and turned to Sergeant Bix, ‘On the porch? Too bloody right I was. Stuck at the back though, tried to push through and get a better look, but it was a real scrum, I’d no chance of getting up front. First bit of excitement around here for weeks and I had to give it up as a bad lot. Typical of my luck.’
Meanwhile, Alleyn escorted Sydney Brown back to the room where his grandfather had died, with Father O’Sullivan following along behind to play his part. The detective opened the door to the private room and ushered Sydney in ahead of him, with Father O’Sullivan standing watchfully at the door.
‘I’m sorry to do this to you, Sydney, it’s been a difficult night,’ said Alleyn.
‘I’ve had worse,’ Sydney said, gruffly.
‘I imagine so. Nonetheless, I’m sure this must have been very hard, being so forcefully reminded of your own losses.’
‘What are you on about?’ Sydney rounded on the detective, ‘What losses?’
Alleyn put out a steadying hand, ‘I merely meant your health and your family situation. When you explained earlier you told me you were invalided out of service and about falling out with your father. Your grandfather was the closest family you had.’
‘Yeah, and I also told you that the old man didn’t mean a blind thing to me. Now can we get on with it? Like I said, Matron took me off for a brew. She left me in the kitchen, they gave me the tea and brought me back to this room after they’d done all their business—except obviously they didn’t do it properly because they flamin’ well lost the old man—and I just stopped here. They gave me a nip of Matron’s whiskey in me tea too and that did me right. I’m used to kipping on the floor and I was out soundo in no time.’
Alleyn looked down at the wooden floor, ‘Here?’
Sydney flung himself down on the tired floorboards, bunching up the pillow he had retrieved before they left the office and putting it behind his head. He glowered up at Alleyn, ‘Like this. All right?’
Alleyn watched Sydney collapse to the ground and was surprised to feel sorry for the young man. It was on the tip of his tongue to remind him of the serviceman he had once been, but as he was about to speak he thought he heard something outside, the beginning of a bird call. These were not the birds of England, he knew he could not be sure, it might have been a nurse hurriedly turning a corner with a trolley for a sick patient, it might have been a wild creature wailing in the dark. Or it might have been the call announcing dawn. This was no time to worry about the psychological problems of young Sydney.
He turned instead to Father O’Sullivan who was wearing an oddly placatory smile, quite out of place in the circumstances, ‘No need to look alarmed, Inspector,’ the vicar said, ‘there are loads of possums round here, pretty wild bush just a few hundred yards up the track.’
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Alleyn allowed, ‘They do sound quite unnatural. And what were you doing at this point, Vicar?’
Father O’Sullivan looked to Sydney Brown, hunched on the floor, ‘I was praying for Mr Brown’s soul, of course, there is a litany, you see—’
‘Of course,’ Alleyn nodded, trying to hurry the vicar along, ‘And then?’
‘Sister Comfort was rather more brusque than necessary with the bereaved, as is her wont. I offered to go and alert Matron to this news.’
‘And where did you find her?’
‘In her office. We collected the paperwork and with the storm almost upon us, I escorted Matron into the porch here in Civilian 3.’
‘I assume there is a protocol for an expected death, is that what you were discussing?’
‘There is,’ the vicar answered, looking out of the corner of his eye and lowering his voice. He edged away, drawing Alleyn with him until he was sure Sydney would not hear what he was about to say. ‘The truth is, Inspector, Matron and I were not speaking of the demise of Mr Brown, nor of his grandson’s grief—or apparent lack of it. We were not talking at all.’
‘No?’
Looking full into Alleyn’s face, Father O’Sullivan whispered quietly but plainly, ‘Matron and I were in love, Inspector. That woman was the love of my life, we were discussing a future we had long dreamed of together. You may well think me, or indeed both of us, callous in the extreme for thinking of ourselves when this young man had just suffered such a loss, but it has been my experience that death often prompts a longing for life, in its most passionate form.’
Alleyn took a good long look at the vicar, ‘I see. So when we spoke earlier and you told me you had left the room to fetch Matron, that wasn’t the whole truth?’
‘Forgive me, but you must understand how difficult this night has been for me, I have not wanted to tell all about our love, in order to protect my dear departed Isabelle, may she rest—’ Father O’Sullivan faltered suddenly and brought his hands to his face.
After a brief moment, Alleyn tried again, ‘I’m very sorry to have to ask this, but where were you at this point, when you were, ah—together?’
‘We were just to the side of the porch entrance to Military 1, in the shadow thrown by the por
ch of Civilian 3. Even with the meager light from the offices across the way we had a need to be careful. I shared a quiet moment with my beloved.’
‘Very difficult for you, of course. Another question, if I may?’
The vicar sighed resignedly and nodded his assent.
‘I don’t understand why you and Matron chose to hide your—’ Alleyn shook his head, ‘I don’t mean to be disrespectful, “friendship”, shall we say?’
Father O’Sullivan smiled ruefully, ‘Pragmatism, I’m afraid. Before the war Isabelle had a set of rooms here at the hospital. It was standard practice for the Matron to live on site, you see.’
‘And since?’
‘Her rooms were requisitioned for the army and she had to move into town to the nurses’ home, taking the transport out to the hospital with all the others. I have my own small set-up adjacent to my church. Previously we were able to spend time together in her rooms, where we could talk and plan to our hearts’ content, but since the war we have been reduced to stolen kisses in dark corners.’ He shook his head and then noticed the quizzical look on Alleyn’s face, ‘I’m sorry, Inspector, I don’t mean to compare my own problems to those of the young men in active service, or those back in England suffering so terribly, but the way it has affected even everyday life, well, we are all very tired.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Alleyn urged him on, ‘And what happened, after this stolen moment between the two of you?’
‘We parted, Matron to her duties and I to see if I could be of any comfort to young Mr Brown.’
‘Were you?’
‘It transpired that he had no need of me at all, for he was indeed asleep, just as he said. Quite sound asleep on the floor.’ He smiled as he indicated Sydney and his voice resumed its usual clarity, ‘The young are startlingly robust, don’t you find?’
From his place on the floor Sydney glared up at Father O’Sullivan, ‘I’m robust all right, Vicar. Don’t you worry about me.’
Once he had dealt with Father O’Sullivan, Alleyn had a quick word with the now wide awake Will Kelly, asking him simply to repeat his actions in going to Matron’s door, knocking, and heading away again. The Irishman was keen to help, informing Alleyn that he had been a regular leading man in his village plays as a youth, ‘I’ll play the part as to the manner born, Sir.’
‘I have no doubt about that,’ Alleyn replied.
He then assigned roles to Sister Comfort and Sergeant Bix. The Sister was to speak with each of the nurses in charge of the wards, warning them that whatever they heard in the next half hour, on no account were they to allow any of their charges out onto the verandahs or the porches. Further, they were to keep the patients in their beds until Alleyn himself gave notice. Sister Comfort was then to take up her vantage point, ready to come running when Mr Glossop called ‘Thief!’, paying particular attention to any actions that did not directly mirror what had taken place just six hours earlier. As Bix had been hard at work in his own office at the time, he would not take part in the re-enactment, but would stand sentry at the other end of the yard, between the morgue and the army offices. Both players nodded their acquiescence and Alleyn crossed the yard to call the cast to their places. The scene was set, the actors prepared. Alleyn, as director, found himself sincerely hoping that the denouement was not about to be quite as shocking for the actors as he feared it might. While they might be expecting, hoping even, to unmask a thief or a murderer, no one had yet scented the original reason for his presence at Mount Seager. He sincerely hoped it would stay that way.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
At Alleyn’s signal, Mr Glossop came to the door of the Surgery anteroom and looked out. Making the most of his moment in the spotlight, he ostentatiously wiped his face with his ever-present handkerchief, looking along the yard towards Matron’s office. From his vantage point the yard was empty. From where Inspector Alleyn stood between the porches of Civilian 3 and Military 1, it was possible to see Dr Hughes and Sarah Warne beginning a quiet conversation inside the open door of the Transport Office, their eyes locked, their faces intent. Maurice Sanders and Rosamund Farquharson commenced their own conversation in the Records Office, equally sotto voce but with rather more animation than their matching pair. Alleyn raised his hand and, taking his signal, Sister Comfort crossed from the porch of Civilian 3 to Matron’s office, turned and ducked back into the porch of Military 1. At the next signal Will Kelly, rather more enthusiastically than necessary, walked jauntily towards Matron’s office, rapped forcefully on the door, called ‘Anyone at home?’ to no one in particular, and then trotted off back towards Civilian 3, taking his place to the side of the porch, a few yards from where Alleyn was stationed.
The Inspector spoke over his shoulder to Father O’Sullivan, ‘You next, Vicar, that’s your cue.’
Father O’Sullivan looked across to Matron’s office and back to the detective. Even in the semi-darkness, Alleyn could see the man’s face was drained of colour, ‘Are you quite all right?’ he asked.
‘Ah, yes, of course,’ Father O’Sullivan stuttered, ‘I do apologize, as I explained, Matron was—’
Alleyn interrupted him calmly, ‘I am asking you to do something quite difficult here, I know, but we are hoping this little performance will give us some vital information as to what must have happened to Matron as well as the matter of the theft, it’s therefore terrifically important that you play your part. So if you wouldn’t mind? The others are waiting.’
Father O’Sullivan sighed and nodded and shook himself in the manner of a wet dog forced back into the rain for another long walk, ‘Onwards. I was making my way to Matron’s office to give her the news about Mr Brown.’
The vicar carefully stepped down to the yard and began a deliberate walk across the yard to Matron’s office. Alleyn watched as each one of the scenes played out simultaneously.
Rosamund stood with her arms folded, her chin tilted defiantly, ‘Go off with Sukie Johnson then, why don’t you? I’m just fine, Maurice, I don’t need you or any other fellow to worry about me.’
Sanders looked about, ‘Keep your voice down, Rosie, we’re joining in for the Inspector’s benefit, no need to make a scene out of it.’
‘All right,’ Rosamund leaned in, ‘but I mean it, honest I do. If she’s what you want, you should go to her. Life’s too short, isn’t that what all you chaps think now you’ve been off?’
‘Seen what we’ve seen, done what we’ve done? I should flamin’ well think so. And I will, just as soon as I can get away from the hospital, I’m going to get her sorted out up north before I get sent away again. Her old man knocks her about something awful, Ros.’
‘That makes you the knight in shining armour?’ Rosamund looked dubious. ‘You’ll need to practise your chivalry a bit first, won’t you?’
Maurice ducked his head, ‘Fair enough, girlie, I’ve not treated you right, I know that, but I reckon I can be a better man with her.’
‘In which case you must do it, Maurice, with my blessing. Not that you need it.’
‘I don’t, but I’m happy to take it.’
Rosamund held out her hand and Maurice Sanders shook it. He was tempted to pull her to him, for old time’s sake, but when he saw the look in her eyes he was glad he had not. It was time he gave the girl her dignity.
An altogether quieter scene was taking place in the Transport Office. Sarah Warne was speaking earnestly to Luke Hughes whose head was down, his arms dejectedly by his sides. Alleyn couldn’t help but watch as Sarah spoke quietly and urgently to the young doctor. It appeared that something she said must have got through, because the doctor lifted his head, nodded and took Sarah Warne in his arms. Alleyn looked away at that point, clearly a choice had been made and it was of no relevance to the matter in hand. He allowed himself a brief smile of satisfaction nonetheless. He could sense Sister Comfort to his right in the porch of Military 1, he wondered about her attitude to the young people, if she felt the same pleasure for Sarah and Luke. He doubted it somehow,
Sister Comfort did not strike him as the kind of woman to be warmed by others’ happiness.
Father O’Sullivan was at the door to Matron’s office, Alleyn watched him knock once, twice, and then, as he let himself into the office, a narrow band of dull light spilled into the yard and was quickly gone, the door closed behind him.
There was a moment when time seemed to stand still. Alleyn took in the couples in their respective offices, Glossop on the steps of the Surgery anteroom waiting for Father O’Sullivan to emerge with the ghostly Matron alongside him, Sister Comfort on the porch of Military 1. He had told Brayling and Pawcett to wait on the other side of the porch door just inside Military 1, ready to join their mate Sanders when all hell broke loose, albeit silently as they had all solemnly promised.
Alleyn looked about him, something felt wrong, he could sense rather than see that Mr Glossop was growing impatient at his post along the yard, could the vicar have misunderstood the instruction? Father O’Sullivan said he had gone to Matron’s office, alerted the Matron to Mr Brown’s death, whereupon she had collected the paperwork and left with him to return to the private room in Civilian 1. Glossop’s account of what he had seen told the same story. Another moment passed and as a morepork called in the dark, Alleyn heard Will Kelly whispering his name, a surprisingly quiet and concerned whisper at that.
‘What is it, Kelly?’ he asked.
‘Sorry to be bothering you, Sir, I know it’s not in my part—’
‘What do you want?’ Alleyn replied, more brusquely than he intended, his eyes still directed towards Matron’s office.
‘It wasn’t like that, Sir.’
Now Alleyn turned to the porter, ‘What wasn’t like what?’
‘The vicar, Sir, he was putting on just now that he was all slow and painstaking, but it wasn’t like that earlier. Last night he headed over to the office like he was hell-bent on getting hold of the Matron. I’d have told him she wasn’t there if he’d given me the chance, could’ve told him I’d already knocked and there’d been no reply, but he was across the yard quick as a fox. I know we’re play-acting now, but you did ask us to show how it went. Well, it wasn’t the way the vicar did it just now.’