Curious to know what was going on, Daisy pressed her ear to the door and listened. She had seen the man arrive and noted how the master had beaten her to answering the door, and when the man was admitted, he had been taken almost at a run into the office.
Through the keyhole she could see Peter Williams pacing the floor, up and down, up and down, jaw set hard and fists clenched, as if about to smack somebody down. She could hear every word he was saying. ‘I knew it!’ she nodded. ‘It’s to do with Ruth Clegg.’
His voice came to her clear and strong. ‘I want her found, do you hear? I’ve spent a small fortune on private detectives and it’s all been for nothing. Nothing!’
‘It’s not private detectives you want, if you don’t mind me saying, sir.’
‘Oh, so you think you can do better, do you? Well, you’d best tell me just how you mean to go about finding her. I want value for my money, do you hear? I want results!’ Punching one fist into the other, he began to yell dementedly, ‘I want Ruth Clegg brought back here, where she belongs!’
‘I know what you want, sir.’ The other man was beginning to wonder if he’d bitten off more than he could chew with this one. ‘Isn’t that why I’m here?’
‘So how will you find her, when others couldn’t?’ Exhausted by his own temper, Peter Williams leaned against his desk and stared the fellow down. ‘Well? I’m waiting,’ he said nastily.
The other man took a moment to gather his wits. If he was to make his money, he would have to come up with the goods, he knew that.
‘First of all, we’re not like private detectives. We don’t pussy-foot around, and we’re not too particular how we get the job done, so long as we get it done, if you follow my meaning. If someone gets in the way, we know how to deal with them. We’re a team, you see – unlike your ordinary private detective. We’re part of a network all over the country. We know our job, and we do it well.’ He was always amazed at what a brilliant liar he was.
‘Sounds convincing,’ Peter grunted. Maybe this fellow could do something, after all.
‘And so it should, because if this young woman is anywhere in the country, we’ll root her out. You’ve got my word on it.’
‘I don’t want your word. I want her back here. The sooner the better!’
When she heard them winding up the details, Daisy ran into the scullery and closed the door. ‘Blimey!’ Her eyes stuck out like hat-pegs as she recalled the conversation. ‘Gawd help her, he’s hired a bunch o’ thugs to track ’er down!’
Breathing in, she waited until they had passed. She could hear them talking just outside the door. A moment later they walked away; the front door opened and closed and then she heard the master’s footsteps taking him back to the study.
Softly, she crept away, upstairs to her attic room, to think through these latest developments. One thing was for certain: ‘I wouldn’t like to be Ruth Clegg, not in any shape nor form. Not for all the money in the world, I wouldn’t.’
On the following Friday evening, after following a series of false trails and coming to nothing, the same man who had visited Peter Williams at his house, found his way into a bar in Mill Hill. ‘Beer and a chaser,’ he told the barman. When they came he drank them down and ordered two more.
‘Knocking ’em back a bit, ain’t yer, matey?’ The big fella at the next table was the friendly type who liked to chat.
‘Bugger off!’
‘Been let down, ’ave yer?’ He was a persistent sort. ‘Some woman been running rings round yer, has she?’ When he laughed, as he did now, he displayed a perfect set of white teeth, which seemed all the more odd in that roughened face strewn with greying whiskers.
‘Look, piss off, will you!’
‘See that young fella over there?’ the bloke went on, ignoring him.
Curious despite himself, the other man looked up. ‘What about him?’
At that very moment, the young man in question finished his pint. ‘Night, Jack,’ he called to the barman. ‘See you next week.’
The whiskered man continued his badgering. ‘Yer should tek a few lessons from him,’ he sniggered. ‘He knows how to get and keep a woman.’
‘Is that so?’ Christ, would this fat idiot never leave him in peace!
‘No doubt about it. To look at him, you wouldn’t think he’d got it in him, but I’m telling you, he’s got this woman…’ Rolling his eyes he made a shapely figure with the flat of his hands. ‘Bee-you-tiful creature, she is.’
‘You don’t say.’
‘Redhead… green eyes. A man’s dream, she is. That young fella is either summat special or just downright lucky. What she sees in him, the Lord only knows—’
‘What did you say?’ Now he was really paying attention. ‘Did you say she were a redhead? Attractive, is she?’
‘That’s right, matey. Like I said, yer should take a leaf out of that young man’s book.’ When the other man grabbed him by the shirt, he was taken by surprise. ‘Hey! There’s no need to get nasty, dammit!’
‘What was she called – the redhead? What was her name?’
‘Don’t know. But it ain’t no use you going after her, ’cause she ain’t got eyes for nobody except for that young fella-me-lad.’
‘What name does he go by then?’
‘Don’t know that neither. Ask the barman. Old Jack here knows everybody.’
A moment later, the whiskered man was proved to be right.
‘His name’s John,’ the barman revealed. ‘I can’t recall his second name. Don’t know as I’ve ever heard it said.’
‘The woman, the redhead. What’s her name?’
This time the barman was not so communicative. ‘Well now, I’m not sure I can remember that.’ His eyes looked shifty. ‘Me memory ain’t so good as what it was – if you know what I mean.’
A half-crown brightened his memory no end. ‘Ruth,’ he said. ‘Her name is Ruth. By! She’s a beauty an’ no mistake. Pity she’s got a belly like a barge though. But it don’t hide the shape beneath, I can tell you that.’
The other man gave a long sigh of relief. ‘Where can I find her?’
‘I’ve no idea.’ Even the showing of another half-crown didn’t help, though he earned it another way. ‘The young fella’s a rent-collector. He works the factories and the top end of Blackburn – Mill Hill, all round here.’ And that was as much as he knew.
Without so much as a thank you, the other man rushed outside, but there was no sign of the young fella. He was already long gone.
No matter. He smiled, a secretive little smile. He had more than enough to be going on with.
Losing no time, he set off to find his men.
Peter Williams was as restless as a cat on hot bricks. He hadn’t slept all night, thinking about Ruth. Looking out the bedroom window, he stared across the early morning skies. ‘Where are you? If he doesn’t find you, I don’t know what I’ll do. It’s not just the fact that you took some of my money – though I’ll have to punish you for that. I miss you, Ruth.’
He laughed quietly. ‘They say you never know what you’ve got until it’s gone, and it’s true. I need you, Ruth. I’ll turn every last stone upside down, until I find you.’
It was five o’ clock and still pitch black outside when he came down the stairs, almost frightening Daisy out of her life. Standing at the kitchen sink, glass of water in hand, she swung round, dropping the glass to the floor, where it smashed into a million fragments. ‘Oh sir, you scared me!’
‘What the devil are you doing down here this time of a morning!’
‘I couldn’t sleep, sir. I were thirsty.’
‘I’m going out,’ he informed her.
‘What time will you be back, sir? So’s I know when to get the breakfast going, like.’
‘I don’t expect I’ll be back for breakfast.’ He pointed to the shattered glass. ‘Clean that up and be quick about it!’ But he didn’t seem his usual self. The anger had no force in it.
By the time Daisy turned to go into the pantry for the brush, he was gone. ‘Going out this time of a morning… to look for his woman, I daresay,’ she muttered as she searched for the dustpan. ‘Bursting in on me like that, scaring me half to death. Mad, that’s what he is. Stark, staring mad! He gets worse every day, I’d swear to it. God knows where it’s all going to end.’
As she came out of the kitchen, the phone in the hallway rang and gave her another scare. This time the dustpan went flying, and the brush with it. ‘Oh, my dear Gawd, whatever next?’ Clutching her heart, she quickened her steps into the hallway, where she stared down at the telephone on the little table.
As it rang she continued to stare; time and again she reached out to take up the receiver, and each time she quickly drew her hand away. ‘Blessed thing!’ she said nervously. ‘Why did he want to go and have a contraption like that fitted, eh? Noisy damned article!’
Unable to stand its shrieking any longer, she snatched up the receiver and put it to her ear. ‘There’s nothing there,’ she grumbled, and was about to put it back down again, when she heard a muffled voice at the other end. ‘Hello?’ She put it back to her ear, and the voice seemed to go away again.
She looked at the receiver and, realising she might have it the wrong way round, put the other end to her ear. ‘Hello, who’s that?’ She glanced at the clock. ‘It’s only ten past five,’ she burst out. ‘Who’s that? Who’s there?’ She began to wonder how much more she could take.
‘It’s Queen Park Hospital,’ the voice explained. ‘I’d like to speak with Mr Peter Williams, please.’
‘He ain’t ’ere!’ Shouting down the phone in case the other person couldn’t hear her, Daisy bellowed: ‘He’s gone out and says he won’t be back for breakfast.’
‘I see. Could you give him a message when he gets back, please? Could you tell him his mother’s taken a turn for the worse, and he should get to the hospital straight away.’
‘Yes, ma’am. Thank you.’
‘That’s the message. His mother’s taken a turn for the worse, and he’s to come to the hospital. Now, you won’t forget that, will you?’
‘No, ma’am.’ And she twice repeated the message just in case.
Carefully, Daisy returned the receiver to its hook. ‘My! It’s one thing after another,’ she groaned. ‘That poor old woman. All this time she’s hung on, like she’s been waiting for summat. That’s a strange thing, that is. Ruth Clegg’s gone, and it looks like his mam’s about to pop her clogs an’ all.’
Sauntering into the kitchen she seated herself at the table, her mind filled with all things nasty. ‘Poor old thing. He didn’t give her much of a life, did he, eh? Allus shouting and arguing – wanting her dead. I saw it all. That day, when she fell down, he wanted her dead. But she showed him, didn’t she, eh? Got the heart of a lion she has. “I’ll go when I’m good an’ ready” that’s what she said to herself, and by Gawd, she’s hung on like a good ’un.’
Mentally shaking herself, she stood up. ‘He’s a bad man. His mam knew it, and I know it. Ruth Clegg knew it too. If she’s got any sense, she’ll stay hidden.’ Glancing nervously at the door, she picked up her brush and dustpan and set about tidying the floor.
Jonas Carter was woken from a deep sleep by the sound of his telephone ringing. Grabbing his robe he threw it on and hurried down the stairs, where he did not hesitate in snatching up the receiver. ‘Hello?’
He listened to what the caller had to say. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Carter. I have tried to reach her son, but he’s not at home.’
‘I understand. Thank you, Sister. I’ll be along as fast as I can.’