TYLER SPENT THE EVENING WITH JANET, COMFORTING her when she broke into tears, talking about anything and everything when she was calmer. He spent the night on the couch, claiming he was too het up to sleep in the bed. This turned out to be true and he tossed and turned until he finally fell asleep in the early hours, only to be catapulted into wakefulness by the ringing of the telephone. Groggily, he squinted at the clock on the mantelpiece. Seven o’clock.
He hurried to answer, not wanting to wake everybody up on Sunday morning. It was Sergeant Gough.
“Crikey, Guff, don’t you have a home to live in?”
“I thought you’d want to know right away, sir. Dennis McEvoy has been caught.”
Tyler gave a soft cheer. “Where was he?”
“He got as far as the Welsh border when he was picked up. He claims he was just out for a drive but he had a haversack stuffed with enough rations for a week.”
“You said, ‘out for a drive’?”
“He was on a motorcycle.” There was a pause and Gough cleared his throat. “It’s registered to your son Jimmy. McEvoy says he borrowed it because his is out of commission.”
“I see.”
“The Welsh plods are bringing him directly to the station,” said Gough. “They should be here shortly.”
“I’ll be right over.”
Tyler got dressed and shaved, made a fast breakfast. and headed across to the station. He looked in on Janet, who was fast asleep, and Jimmy for once was at home, also asleep. He debated waking him up, but decided to see what Dennis had to say for himself first.
When Tyler walked into the station, two Welsh police officers were waiting for him. They were having a good natter with Sergeant Gough while a subdued Dennis McEvoy languished on the bench. He got to his feet when Tyler entered, and one of the officers caught his arm and shoved him back down.
“Steady, mate. I’d prefer it if you had your arse on the bench if you don’t mind.”
“That’s all right, sergeant,” said Tyler. “I’ll take care of Mr. McEvoy. Sergeant Gough, would you take him into my office.”
He didn’t say hello to the frightened young man; he was too angry with him.
Gough did as requested and Tyler turned to the two other officers. “Thanks, lads. How are you, Bryn?”
Tyler had played against Bryn Jones in several police league football matches over the years. In fact, Jones had given him a solid “accidental” kick on the shins in their last game, which he intended to repay when he could. They shook hands and Jones introduced his constable, Evan Llewellyn.
“How did you catch McEvoy?” he asked Jones.
“A bit of luck really, good for us, bad for him. He ran out of petrol just outside of Presteigne. He tried to buy some at the local petrol station, but the owner wondered what a Brit was doing on our side of the border with a heavy rucksack on his back and a nervous manner. He thought he might be a Jerry spy so he rang us up while the lad was waiting for his fill up. We’d had his description come over the wire, so one of our constables hopped over there right away. First off, he said his name was Bobby Walker. I happened to know that wasn’t true as I’ve met that particular lad before at one of our away games. We did a recce of this one’s identification papers, which confirmed his name was, as suspected, Dennis McEvoy, private in His Majesty’s army. His rucksack was stuffed with rations, tins of meat, powdered milk, you name it. He said his mother had given them to him for a picnic. Not too imaginative that one.” He looked at Tyler curiously. “What’s McEvoy wanted for, Tom?”
“He’s a witness in a murder case I’m investigating. He took off before I could talk to him.”
“The bike’s registered in your lad’s name. Did McEvoy steal it?”
“That’s what I’ve got to find out. Let me go and have a word or two with our boy here. Help yourself to some tea before you start back.” He winked. “Sergeant Gough has got something he can add for the journey. A nice little pick-me-up. That is unless you’ve become teetotallers?”
“Not this side of the border. Thanks, Tom. Much appreciated. If there’s anything else you need just let us know.”
Tyler turned to go to his office, and Jones said, “Our team’s in good fettle now. The next match is as good as won. Start shaking in your boots.”
“Don’t count your chickens, Jones.”
He went into his office. Dennis was now slumped in the chair, with Gough standing beside him.
“Thanks, Sergeant, I’ll take over now. Look after the Taffies, will you?”
Gough left and Tyler took his seat behind the desk. He did some unnecessary shuffling of his papers, not looking at Dennis. Finally he sat back and laced his hands behind his head.
“You’ve got yourself in a shit load of trouble, Den.”
“Yes, sir.” He looked so miserable, Tyler almost felt sorry for him. Almost; not quite.
“Where did you think you were going?”
“I didn’t have a very clear idea, sir. I thought I’d head for Ireland.”
“Fat lot of good that would have done you. They’re a neutral territory. They’re interning our own pilots who are shot down. You’d have been stuck there for the duration. You were supposed to report for duty on Saturday night. You didn’t do so, and that makes you absent without leave. A serious crime. You could go to prison.”
“I know, sir. I wasn’t thinking. I … I just had to get away.”
“From what?”
“Just things. The war—”
“Did you steal our Jimmy’s motorcycle?”
Dennis stared at him, round-eyed. “Oh no, sir. He said I could borrow it.”
“Didn’t he know you were supposed to report for duty?”
“Er, no. I didn’t tell him. I just said I wanted to go for a ride. Clear my head.” Dennis wriggled uncomfortably on the chair. “I need to use the lavatory, if you don’t mind, sir.”
Tyler pointed to the toilet. “It’s over there. Leave the door open.”
The lad scuttled off. Tyler could see his back. It seemed to take him a long time to start urinating but finally he did, finished up, and returned to his seat.
“Hurt, did it?”
“Pardon, sir?”
“I said, did it hurt to piss?”
“Er, yes, it did rather.”
From outside the room they heard a burst of laughter. Sergeant Gough was no doubt plying the Welshmen with whisky and football stories.
Tyler got to his feet, came around the desk, and sat on the edge so he was only a foot away from Dennis.
“Now then lad, there are a few things we need to clear up. First off, I had a chat with a young Land Army girl, name of Florence Hancocks, nice girl. You know her, don’t you?”
“I, er …” He saw Tyler’s expression and the denial froze on his lips. “Yes, sir.”
“You were aware that she was off at the hospital on Thursday? She had to get some treatment – for a venereal disease she’d picked up from her boyfriend. Any idea who that might be?”
“I think that was me, sir.”
“Are you saying you’ve got the clap, Den?”
“It seems that way, sir.”
Tyler leaned to within a few inches from the soldier. “It might have been a nice gesture of support to accompany her at least to the hospital. She was all by herself.”
“I didn’t know. Honest I didn’t. I just thought she had something female happening. She said she wanted to stay on at the hotel. I had to get back for sentry duty on Wednesday night.”
“What time did your shift end?”
“Seven o’clock the next morning … at least it was supposed to end then, but I had to stay on because of Bobby and the corporal finding the girl’s body.”
Tyler pursed his lips. “Do you have a good memory, Dennis?”
“Er, yes, I think so, sir.”
“On Wednesday, Florence Hancocks tells you she’s not well. I wonder why, then, that only two days later, you were prepared to take another young woman, this time a girl who is barely sixteen years old, to a liaison in the woods in order to have a sexual encounter with her. You must have forgotten that you could infect her with a most unpleasant disease.”
He had raised his voice and McEvoy looked frightened.
“No, sir.”
“No, sir, what? You didn’t meet up with this girl, my daughter Janet, to be precise? And the sister of your best mate. Or, no, you didn’t forget?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Tyler. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me. I wasn’t thinking.”
“That, Dennis, is an understatement. Unfortunately, instead of your little lover’s tryst, you discovered the decomposing body of Rose Watkins. Why did you make Janet promise not to say you were together?”
Again Dennis wriggled on the seat. “I’d said I was ill and couldn’t come on duty on Saturday. I’d be in hot water if the commandant found out I was lying. We had nothing to do with her death. Nothing.”
“Did you ever go to that particular place before?”
“Yes, sir. I went with Florence a few times.”
“What about Elsie Bates? Did you go there with her?”
Dennis shook his head vigorously. “No, sir. Never.”
“Why not? She was a pretty girl. Quite accommodating to young soldiers as I understand.”
“She wasn’t my girlfriend.”
“She was somebody’s girl though. We know that much. Who was it?”
“I, er, I don’t know, sir.”
Tyler moved even closer, his breath on Dennis’s face.
“I’ll ask you again, son. Who was Elsie Bates’s sweetheart?”
This time, Dennis met Tyler’s eyes.
“Jimmy. Elsie was your Jimmy’s girlfriend, sir.”