The Death-Cap Dancers

Chapter 6: SELF-HEAL

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The warden of the Youth Hostel was not pleased at being disturbed before the recognised opening time of five pm, but when she opened her cottage door to Ribble and his detective-sergeant, although she did not recognise them immediately as plain-clothes police officers, she did realise that they were not prospective hostellers calling out of hours.

‘Yes?’ she said. She had been accompanied to the door by an impressive-looking Alsatian dog which reinforced her single-syllable greeting with one of its own, a short but menacing growl.

Ribble disclosed his official identity and asked for a word. He and his sergeant were invited in, the dog was ordered to retire, and the two men were given seats in what had been the cottage parlour when the building had been the lodge to a private house.

‘We are interested in two people who may have stayed at the hostel recently,’ said Ribble.

‘We get all sorts. What have these two been up to? If it’s anything about a missing anorak and a rucksack, I was not told about either. I merely heard the boy saying to his friend that they were gone. Nothing was complained about officially, if you understand me.’

‘Did that surprise you?’

‘Oh, no, because I knew, and I’m sure they knew, who had taken the things. Serve them right, I thought, for having such a friend.’

‘They reported the theft at Gledge End headquarters, but that is nothing to do with us, and I don’t think those are the two we’re making enquiries about. We might possibly be interested in the friend, though. Can you describe him? I suppose you’ve got his name and address.’

‘Oh, yes, we have to keep careful records, of course. Half a minute and I’ll get my book. Oh, you want a description. Well, as I said, we get all sorts and so long as they’ve booked in beforehand by letter and with the fee — we don’t accept telephone messages or any promises to pay —’ she laughed merrily, a very different personality from the stern-looking female accompanied by dog who had answered the door, ‘they’re in. I don’t ever refuse anybody who has kept the rules, especially anybody who looked as if he’d spent the night on the moors in all that rain.’

‘Oh, you thought these three had spent the night on the moors, did you?’

‘No, only the one you want me to describe.’

‘Ah, only the one you think stole the anorak and the rucksack. Now, madam, what did he look like?’

‘Nothing on earth, poor man. He was a lot older than the other two. They would have been in their early twenties, I dare say, and quite well-spoken and just the decent, quiet type we like to have. Did his share of the chores, too, as well as their own, before they left in the morning.’

‘Why was that?’

‘Because he must have sneaked out of the hostel before anybody was stirring. By the way, my name is Beck — Mrs — and, as you see, I don’t live in the hostel myself. Some wardens do, but they’re generally men, I should think. I prefer to keep myself as much out of the way as I can. I think the hostellers prefer it that way and I’m sure I do. I’ll tell you another thing: on thinking things over, I don’t believe the two younger ones knew this older fellow, else why should he have robbed one of them and then sneaked off like that? Something fishy about him to do a thing like that, wouldn’t you say?’

‘An older fellow?’ said Ribble. ‘How much older?’

‘Oh, into his fifties I wouldn’t wonder, but perhaps looked older than he really was because of being so wet and tired and dirty, and not being shaved and all that. He would have been a right mean-looking fellow, anyway, and had hardly a word to say for himself.’

‘But he was correctly booked in, I think you said. ’

‘Well, somebody was, but I’ve been wondering whether that somebody was him or somebody else. I’ll just fetch the register book. If he was a cuckoo in the nest I can’t help it. I can only go by the membership cards they hand in.’

The detective-sergeant politely opened the door for her. They heard her call the dog and then they heard the front door close. Apparently she kept the register over at the hostel itself and not in the cottage.

‘Well,’ said Ribble, when the sergeant had returned to his seat, ‘what do you make of all that?’

‘Could be our man, sir.’

‘I’ll lay a ducat it is our man. I’ll show her his picture when she gets back. I mean, it all tallies, doesn’t it? What with the age, the theft, the mean look, the sleeping rough and getting wet through, it could almost add up, and I’m inclined to bet on it. Well, there’s one obvious line of country we can take as soon as we’ve got the addresses. We can check on all three of these chaps and see what kind of story they have to tell. Before that, though, we’ll see whether Mrs Beck can give us any help over this murdered girl. From the fact that she was cycling between this place and Gledge End, I think it’s quite possible that she was either coming away or going to the hostel, although, of course, she may have been coming from her own home or been staying at one of the farms.’

‘Or in one of the forest cabins, sir, and had been out for a spin on her bike.’

‘We can ask, but I doubt whether she was one of the forest lot. She wouldn’t have booked one of the cabins all to herself. They are geared to accommodate parties of five or six people with rent appropriate to this number. If she had been a member of such a party, enquiries would have been made about her before now, and we should have found out who she was.’

Upon her return to her cottage Mrs Beck was able to supply some information. She opened the register, but, before she could say anything, Ribble asked whether either of the younger men had stayed at the hostel on any other occasion.

‘No,’ she said, ‘but I think they had done quite a lot of hostelling. They seemed to the manner born, if you know what I mean. You can always tell the experienced ones. Here we are, look. I didn’t have a lot in that night or the night before. Time of year, you know. They mostly come in the summer, not late autumn like this, and in this part of the country.’

‘Ah, yes. Now, can you tell me which of the names you have down under this date is that of the older man we require?’

Mrs Beck could help him only a little over this. The bookings had been made and the fees sent by Steve Piggott. The other two were down as Tony Mackie and Bert Leeds, but which was which she had no idea, since Steve had handed in and, at the end of the stay, collected all three membership cards.

‘All I know is that Piggott, Mackie and Leeds are the three that came together, as you see by the way I’ve bracketed them in the book. I know which was Piggott because of the three cards being handled and all the fees paid in by him and him giving his own name to me, but none of them had ever been here before. Piggott wanted to hold some kind of gospel meeting in the common-room, but I said I couldn’t permit that, as the common-room was common to all and some members might object. He took it very well. It was a shame he was the one to be robbed, but it’s what the innocent must expect, I suppose.’

‘There was a photograph on the warning notices we sent out,’ said Ribble. ‘Couldn’t you have compared it with this third man, the scruffy one?’

‘Oh, it was very smudgy,’ said the warden. ‘Besides, he came with the other two, and all three cards handed in together, so I didn’t connect anything. Well, you wouldn’t, would you? If he’d come alone and without a membership card — but, then, he wouldn’t, would he? — I should have suspected something, but with everything seeming to be in order…’

Ribble said that he quite understood. He added that it must be very lonely for her in the winter, but it turned out that from the middle of November until the end of February she spent much of her time at her sister’s house in Long Cove Bay, returning to open up the hostel only if there happened to be any bookings. These, as she had explained, had to be made in advance, ‘I always know where I am, you see,’ she said. ‘It’s all down in writing.’

Ribble said that he was glad to hear it and was relieved that she had the dog. Then he showed her a clear photograph of the convict, but she refused to commit herself.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘if that’s all, I generally have a cup of tea about now, before I open up at five for the hostellers. Perhaps you’d join me.’

‘Thanks, but there is one other matter, Mrs Beck. I think I mentioned we’re interested in two people. One is this escaped convict, the other is a young woman aged somewhere between twenty-five and thirty, of slight build and brown-haired. She was a cyclist and could have been making for this hostel or coming away from it. She was wearing blue jeans, an orange-coloured shirt, a brown pullover, brown shoes and a bright yellow anorak.’

‘Oh, dear! You don’t mean something’s happened to her? Did she have an accident? Is she hurt?’

‘Yes, she met with a serious accident. You seem to recognise the description.’

‘Oh, good gracious, yes! That’s Tyne, Judy Tyne. She was one of the dancers, you know, only she had a tiff with one of the others and took herself off yesterday morning. She’s stayed here before. They’ve all stayed here before. It’s half-term holiday for them. Some are teachers and some might be students. They do sword-dances and jigs and sing the old-fashioned country songs. I’ve sometimes watched them rehearsing. But how bad is Judy? Is she in hospital?’

‘No, not in hospital. You say she had a disagreement with one of the others and took herself off?’

‘Yes, but I think the rest of them thought she would come back when she’d cooled down. They were booked in for three nights, you see, so she wouldn’t have anywhere else to sleep. But what has she got to do with this prisoner you’re chasing after?’

‘Probably nothing. Now, Mrs Beck, can you tell us something more about the rest of the party? I shall have to see them all if this girl is the one we think, but it would be useful to know your opinion of them first.’

‘Has something happened worse than what you’ve said?’

‘Yes, I’m afraid it has, ma’am. The accident was a fatal one and the evidence suggests that something more than what I call an accident may have taken place, so anything you can tell me will be very helpful. Now, ma’am, just give me a line on the other youngsters.’ He pointed to her entries in her ledger. ‘These will be the biggish party that you’ve also bracketed together, I take it? A very useful procedure on your part, I’m sure. Keeps everything shipshape, eh?’

‘That’s right. Well, as you can see, there are nine of them. I can’t tell you a lot about them. We get all kinds, some rough diamonds, some quite cultured, and them all using the hostel because it’s cheap and most of them are young. This lot, the dancers and singers, are the sort that are no trouble at all. I had them last year at this time and I was glad to have them again.’

‘You mentioned some kind of disagreement. Did you gather what it was about?’

‘No, but I think it was between Judy and another of the girls. Is it Judy who is dead? You mean this convict killed her?’

‘We don’t know. When we get the body identified, I shall be able to tell you more. Don’t worry your head at present, ma’am, or begin jumping to conclusions. Just answer the questions, then we shall know where we are. I see that the party booked in on Wednesday.’

‘And are allowed three nights, so tonight is their last.’

‘Do you know where they are staying after tonight?’

‘No, I don’t. All I know is that they are giving a concert at Gledge End tomorrow afternoon, but if Judy has left I don’t see how they will manage. But this girl you’re talking about, oh, it couldn’t be Judy! She can’t have been murdered, not a respectable girl like her.’

‘Well, that’s what we’re not too sure about,’ said Ribble, giving up his comforting tone. ‘She seems to have been knocked or dragged off her bicycle, but we can’t talk about murder until we know that she wasn’t hit by a passing car. On the other hand, her injuries don’t really suggest a hit-and-run driver and our knowledge of our bird who is on the run from Hangwood gaol doesn’t suggest that he killed the girl who may not be Judy Tyne anyway. He is a convicted murderer, it’s true, but he is a poisoner and only of his wife, at that, so—’

‘Only of his wife? I like that!’ exclaimed Mrs Beck, perking up a little. ‘Are you married, Inspector?’

‘Yes. I didn’t mean it quite the way it sounded. I meant that he is most unlikely to murder anybody else, that’s all. What I would like you to do is to sum up these dance people for me. You say they have stayed here before and you see so many youngsters that you must be a pretty good judge of them. You mentioned a quarrel, and that, in case of violent death, is something which ought not to be overlooked.’

‘I don’t want my words to get anybody into trouble.’

‘Of course not. Personal opinion is only a very rough guide and can’t incriminate anybody. Just fire away. We are very discreet.’

‘But the sergeant is going to write down what I say.’

‘Nothing but names and addresses. Nothing you tell us can be used in evidence, but it would help me to get a line on these young people. First of all, what about the quarrel which caused Judith Tyne to take herself off? How serious would you say it was?’

‘I don’t know anything about it, but I think it must have been on account of one of the boys. Giles is the leader, and a very nice boy and I should think very capable. I don’t think the quarrel was anything to do with him. Then there is Willie. He is Scottish by birth, tall and dark. He might be the brooding type, but I wouldn’t think he bothered much about girls. Probably got a girl of his own back home, anyway. Micky is the youngest and very slight and fair, very like his sister to look at. The others are Ronnie, another nice boy, and then there is Peter. I’m sure Ronnie is much too lazy to bear malice to anybody. I wonder he can even exert himself to dance. He’s always saying how tired he is, but he’s big and healthy enough. Just bone idle when it comes to pulling his weight, but all the others seem to like him, and I must say I’ve got a soft spot for him myself.’

‘What about Peter?’ asked Ribble, checking the names in the book.

‘I don’t know. He seems very quiet and sort of nondescript, if you know what I mean. Keeps himself to himself. He’s the artistic one and very clever at making things.’

‘Could he be a dark horse, do you think?’

‘I really couldn’t say. I shouldn’t think he has enough character to be anything very much, but you never know, do you? Look at Doctor Crippen.’

‘Ah,’ said Ribble, looking alert. ‘You connect Peter with Doctor Crippen, do you?’

‘Good gracious, no! Who ever heard of such a thing? Don’t you put words into my mouth that I never intended!’

‘I’m sorry, ma’am. Well, what about the last of the boys?’

‘They call him Plum. He’s big-made and very much a man. He could be the oldest of them, as a matter of fact. I’ve nothing to tell you about him except my dog doesn’t like him.’ Upon this, the warden burst into tears. ‘Oh, dear! Oh, dear!’ she sobbed. ‘I knew no good would come of all that fussing over Mick.’

Ribble waited and then, as she calmed herself, he repeated what she had said, but put it in the form of a question.

‘No good would come of all this fussing over Mick?’ he said.

‘Yes. There were the three of them, you see. Well, Willie is a boy, so he hardly counted, if you know what I mean, but the other two, Judy and Peggy, they were always going out of their way to treat him as if he was like a delicate piece of china and might get broken if they weren’t extra careful. Not that there was anything I would have called delicate about him. So far as I could see, he may have looked slim and pretty — more like a girl in some ways — but he could dance the legs off the rest of them, I reckon, and from the extras he bought at the hostel shop I don’t think there was anything wrong with his appetite.’

‘But the two girls thought him fragile? What about the boys? You mentioned Willie. What about the others?’

‘Treated him just like one of themselves and used to joke with him about Judy and Peggy. If you ask me, he liked the fuss the girls made of him. Boys do like having a fuss made of them, don’t they? I suppose it starts with their mothers.’

‘To put it clearly, ma’am,’ said Sergeant Nene, ‘were both the girls in love with him?’

‘Oh, no,’ she replied without hesitation. ‘It was nothing like that. He was so young, you see, compared to the other boys. He was younger than his sister, but so very much like her to look at that you’d think she would get the same treatment, but nobody ever spoilt Pippa. She seemed always a bit apart from the others, I always thought, and wasn’t really very interested in the dancing, but only in the music.’

‘Well, thank you for your help, ma’am. There is one more thing you can do for us if you will. It will take us a little time to establish the identity of this dead girl unless you will help us. If she isn’t Judy Tyne I shall be glad; if she is, well, we shall have saved a lot of time.’

‘She’s Judy. I know it in my bones,’ said the warden, this time looking grim instead of becoming tearful, ‘and if there is anything I can do to help catch whoever killed her I shall do it. It means the mortuary, I suppose. If it is Judy I must tell the others. It would come better than from a stranger.’

‘Would you be prepared to make the identification now, Mrs Beck?’ asked Ribble.

‘I should have to get back in time to open up.’

‘Nothing easier, if we go at once.’

‘Does it mean I’ll have to speak at the inquest?’

‘Not if it’s the girl we think. We’ll get a more formal identification from her relatives, if she’s got any. Not to worry about the inquest. Shall we go?’

Mrs Beck nerved herself for the ordeal, but it was over in a matter of seconds. She had no doubt about identifying the dead girl as Judy Tyne.

‘Oh, well, she’ll have no more troubles, poor girl,’ she said, ‘but get that villain you must, and then I’ll sleep at night.’