Chapter 16

Monday 23rd December 1929

Minster View Boarding House was hosting the cast of The Nutcracker. When Clara arrived just before ten o’clock, sugarplum fairies were primping in every bathroom, and ballerinas limbered up on every banister. Soon the dancers would be heading off to rehearsals leaving Mrs Morrison to clear away the breakfast plates. She asked Clara if she would like another cup of coffee. ‘Looks like you’ll need it to see your way through this muddle,’ she said, as Clara laid out her notes for the Sybil Langford case on the dining room table.

‘Yes please,’ said Clara, ‘and thanks for letting me use your house as an office.’

‘No bother at all.’ Mrs Morrison smiled. ‘Make yourself at home. And besides,’ she said, her voice catching with emotion, ‘I’d like to find out what happened to poor Sybil, too. I’ll bring you that coffee now.’

Clara leaned back in her chair and perused the notes, wondering how to proceed with what had first been a missing person case and was now, possibly, a murder – or at the very least, a suicide. Clara was very glad that she had arranged with Bella to take over the Fenwick’s case and had informed Mr Carlton that she would not be joining the staff after all. She had not told him Bella was working for her, but had said that she had an alternative plan. She would touch base with Bella in a couple of days. But for now she was free to focus on the Sybil Langford case.

It truly was a muddle. But with the help of a large sheet of butcher’s paper, a pen and a ruler, she intended to make some sense of it. Before she could decide on where next to take the investigation, she would draw up a timeline. Where Sybil was or might have been since she was last seen. She drew two lines down the middle of the paper, creating three columns. In the first column she wrote the date, in the second any verifiable facts or clues she had gathered to date, and in the third, any further thoughts that occurred to her or actions she needed to take. It seemed like a logical scientific approach.

Sat 14th Dec	Sybil last seen after show. Witnesses: stagehand Billy. Taxi driver. Other cast members (Peggy Rose, Bessy Jones, Wally Ransom). Theatre manager (Mr Iceton). Tour manager (Tubby Brown). Letter delivered via box office. Seen vomiting. Did not attend after-party. Left wearing fairy godmother dress. With wand? Billy didn’t see but wand is missing.	Find taxi driver. Visit taxi rank. Where was she dropped off? When? Speak to box office attendant re letter. Who delivered it? Who attended after-party? Anyone else not there? Must revisit theatre.
Sun 15th Dec	Supposed to have arrived in London but didn’t. Where was Sybil on Sunday?	???
Mon 16th Dec	Tubby Brown receives telegram – Sybil says she got train to London Sat night. Quitting tour. I didn’t see telegram – thrown away, postmark can’t be checked. Tubby rings flat in London – building manager says she hasn’t returned.	Call Vince Vexler to see what he’s found out.
	Mrs Morrison receives telegram asking to send Sybil’s things on to London. Telegram postmarked York – sent Monday morning.	Who sent this? Sybil? If so, was she still in York?
Tues 17th Dec	Mrs Morrison sends trunk to London.	Check with Vince Vexler if it arrived.
	Money order sent from North Shields.	Was Sybil in N Shields on Tuesday? If not, who was? If Sybil, how/why did she come back to York? Did she change out of FG dress? Surely not in FG dress if she travelled to N Shields!
	NB No longer need to check if Sybil got ferry to Amsterdam. Obviously not if she died in York next day or day after. Could not have got to Holland and back in time.
Wed 18th Dec	Peggy Rose and Juju hire me for job. Interview cast and Tubby Brown in Newcastle.	Was Sybil back in York? Did she have her fish stew here on Wed night? Where was she? Was she being held against her will?
Thu 19th Dec	Mrs Morrison receives money order to pay for trunk. Postmarked N Shields – Tuesday	N Shields post office staff don’t remember someone coming in, but tea room lady remembers Sybil from August with Dutchman – NB also mentioned by Mrs M, said he visited twice. Upset Sybil. Peggy Rose said they were lovers – Jannie van Lelyveld. Sybil went to Amsterdam with him over summer but Peggy thinks they had a falling-out.
	Sybil dies early morning – Dr Bone’s stomach analysis says meal ingested 3–4 hours before death (but could have been late Wed night – fish stew???)	Where did she eat her meal?
	Dress found hung over branch by tramp Thursday morning – found in tramp’s tent Sat morning.	Can I speak to tramp?
Fri 20th Dec	Body found by dog walker 2pm. Autopsy conducted Fri evening. Mrs M calls me.
Sat 21st Dec	Charlie and I view body and speak to Dr Bone. Refer to autopsy notes. Cause of death heart failure. Dr B thinks caused by hypothermia in water. What if heart stopped before entry into water? Charlie says possible.	Sybil’s ‘illness’. What caused rash? Allergy? Poison? Must wait for toxicology report. Could this have caused heart failure? Was she put in river post-mortem? By whom? Van Lelyveld? Or was she completely on her own and it was suicide after all?
Sun 22nd Dec	Interview with Newcastle cast – Peggy Rose, Bessy Jones (understudy) and Wally Ransom. Ransom says Sybil daughter of prostitute. Mother and sisters still ‘working’ docks in N Shields. Sybil’s real name Sally Smith.	Does this have any relevance at all? Do police know who next of kin are? Has someone told Sybil’s family yet? Ought I to do so?
	NB Wally Ransom said he didn’t know Jannie, but Peggy saw them together at York theatre bar.	Where is Jannie now? Why did Wally lie?
Mon 23rd Dec	???	???

Clara leaned back and stretched her lower back. She reread her notes, made a few amendments and then took a sip of her coffee. It was still a muddle, but less of one than before and she now felt less anxious and overwhelmed. There was lots she didn’t know, but a few avenues of enquiry presented themselves. She wrote these down in her notebook:

1. Telephone Vince Vexler.

2. Go back to theatre. Reinterview Iceton in light of Sybil’s death. Speak to box office attendant.

3. Go to taxi rank outside York station. Speak to drivers. Did anyone pick up Sybil?

4. Find tramp. Still at police station or back in tent? Will tent still be there?

Number four she realised was a long shot, but the first three were achievable. She finished her coffee, cleared the table and then asked Mrs Morrison if she could use the telephone.

‘Mr Vexler? Oh, I’m so glad I caught you … Well, I’m sorry, no I wasn’t in. I drove down to York this morning. I have some news … No, I don’t have a secretary … Yes, it would be useful if I did … No I don’t think you have wasted your time … Well, you’re speaking to me now, aren’t you …? Of course I’ll be paying you … Mr Vexler, if you don’t mind, might I actually have a word in edgewise …? Thank you …’

Clara, annoyed to the hilt by the London agent’s patronising tone, managed to keep calm and informed him that Sybil Langford’s body had been found and they were now dealing with an unexplained death (either suicide or murder) and not just a missing person case.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Eventually: ‘Then I expect you’ll be handing it over to someone more experienced.’

‘And why would I be doing that?’

‘Have you ever investigated a murder or suicide, Miss Vale?’

‘Actually, I have.’ And this was true. Her first case had involved two murders, one manslaughter, one attempted murder (two if you included the threat to her own life), one accidental death and one suspected suicide. And she had solved all that by herself, thank you very much, while fighting off a gun-toting attacker. ‘Listen, Mr Vexler, if you don’t want my money I will find someone else who does. I don’t have time to waste on justifying my professional existence to you. So, if you’ll let me know what you’ve found out so far, I’ll pay what you’re due and we can part company.’

There was silence again. And then, in the most matter-of-fact tone, Vexler gave the following report: ‘I visited Miss Langford’s apartment, as requested, on Friday afternoon. I spoke to the building manager and her neighbours. All confirmed that she had not been home for the last three weeks. The manager had been collecting her post. The trunk arrived on Thursday morning and had been kept in the manager’s office until her return. I was considering how I might gain access to her apartment over the weekend – possibly by paying the manager to let me in, the costs of course would be added to your bill – when I received a telephone call from the manager. I had left my card with him and asked him to call me if Miss Langford arrived. It turns out she didn’t arrive, but … and here’s what I have been trying to contact you about … there was a break-in to the manager’s office on Friday night. And Miss Langford’s trunk was broken into and apparently searched.’

‘Good grief!’ interjected Clara. ‘Was anything taken?’

Another pause then a reply dripping in sarcasm: ‘Well, that would only be possible to tell if I knew what was in it in the first place.’

Clara felt she deserved that. It had been a stupid question. ‘Quite. I shall ask Mrs Morrison, Sybil’s landlady here in York who packed the trunk, to write down as much as she can remember went into it. Then we can compare notes. Did the manager call the police?’

‘He did. A bobby came round. A breaking and entering case has been opened.’

‘I don’t suppose you know yet if the police there have been informed of Sybil’s death by the York police? Is there a way you can find out?’

Vexler cleared his throat. ‘There is, but it will cost more. I have contacts at the Yard, but they don’t come cheap.’

‘How much more?’

He told her. She balked at the price but didn’t think she had much choice. ‘All right,’ she agreed, making a mental note to ask Andrew or Stan to go through past accounts of her uncle’s to see how much these things usually cost. She would pay what Vexler asked for now, but if she found out he was overcharging her, taking advantage of her novice status, it would be the last time she’d use him.

And then a thought struck her. ‘Mr Vexler, did you say the manager had been collecting Sybil’s post?’

‘I did.’

‘Ah, good. Would you be able to ask him to forward it to Newcastle? I intend to get in touch with Sybil’s next of kin. I can pass it all on to them.’

Silence again. Eventually: ‘I can try. Assuming the police have not been around and taken it into evidence. But that’s unlikely unless it’s been formally declared a murder enquiry. Has it?’

‘No,’ said Clara, ‘as far as I’m aware the police in York are treating it either as suicide or accidental death by misadventure.’

‘But you think it’s murder?’ The sarcastic tone again.

‘I think it could be murder. I am still gathering evidence. So, if you are able to arrange the post to be sent to me – at the same address you used for Bob – I would appreciate it. As it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow, you will have to do it this morning in the hope of it getting here before the postal service shuts down for the season. Are you able to do that?’ Her voice was clipped and professional.

Vexler replied with a long, overly drawn-out sigh, followed by a reluctant ‘All right.’

Clara concluded the conversation by instructing him to ring her back at the York telephone number. And that Mrs Morrison would be able to take any messages from him if she were not available.

‘No, Mr Vexler, she is not my new secretary. Good day to you. I look forward to hearing from you later.’ And with that, she put down the phone.

Clara, tempted to rage to someone, anyone – about the boor with whom she had just had the misfortune of dealing – brought her emotions under control. The best way to deal with a man like that was to be a better woman, she thought, and to do the best job she possibly could. She realised that the conversation might have been frustrating, but it had not been fruitless. She returned to the dining room table and the sheet of butcher’s paper. Under Friday 20th December she added:

Sybil’s trunk in London searched. What for? Ask Mrs Morrison to make list of contents.

She then added some notes, under Monday 23rd, about the rest of her conversation with Vexler. With the notes up to date, she went to find Mrs Morrison.