Strangers at Witchend, page 7
"What are you talking about?" David said. "What's happened now?"
"Give me a chance, mate. Witchend has been broken into by a starving boy or girl as the case may be. Got in through the larder window and consumed piles of food. Mackie is on guard but the others wouldn't let me telephone for the Task Force... There's not room for any more in the car so we'll run on."
Peter grabbed Harriet's arm.
"Is that true, Harry? Really true? Not one of their tricks? Get in the back with David... Tom! If my father calls in to see you first please don't tell him about this... And do come round after supper to see us."
Tom nodded as James got into the car and started the engine. Then he turned away to find his uncle and aunt and see what they thought of it all. What a day! Poor old Sterling.
The twins trotted up the middle of the narrow lane so that the car could not pass them, and then opened the Witchend gate so that James could drive in. They heard Macbeth barking inside the house at the sound of the car, so Mary grabbed the key from Dickie and ran to reassure him.
"Come and see where the starving child got into the house," the latter suggested. "You come, James. This is your lucky day because you're on the scene of the crime before the police. We haven't looked for footprints or fingerprints yet."
Peter was very upset when she saw what had happened, and after they had examined the kitchen and larder, and Harriet had told them that Tom had seen a child in the lane some hours ago, she took them into the sitting-room.
"I'm so sorry this has happened as soon as you've arrived, James. I've never known any house or cottage round here to be broken into. Never - and that's why it's specially worrying... You all know that my father is worried and not very well, so as he's not home yet I suggest we don't tell him what's happened - not as soon as he arrives anyway. I would be grateful, so let's get the supper ready and see how he is when he comes."
When James went out to fetch his suitcase from the car, Dickie followed him.
"When are you going to tell me what you're after in Birmingham, James? I'm still keen and I really have got something for you."
"Good show, Richard. I'll tell you about this trip presently. Have I turned up at a bad time? What's going on here? Peter's fussed about her father, isn't she? Is it really O.K. for me to stay tonight? I wanted to see you all - and Witchend too - but I don't want to be in the way. What's wrong with Mr Sterling? I know this house belongs to your family. David told me all about that but I've never met Peter's father."
"He's marvellous. He likes everything shipshape and he likes twins which is lucky for us, but something happened just before we arrived which upset him. David knows because Peter will have told him, but we've hardly seen him since we arrived. We only came yesterday. I'm sure you'll like him, James."
"Sure to if he likes twins. Now tell me, Richard. Did you know that the house had been entered when I telephoned? Was that the story you had for me?"
"No. Mary and Harriet and me had an adventure out on the mountain late last night, and today we've been up there to explore and discovered some very mysterious things, including an old birdwatcher type whose behaviour was most suspicious. There was a helicopter over the mountain last night, James, and somebody up there was signalling to it. Honestly, I've got a story for you."
"Good old Richard. We must hear this story, but why are you excited about a birdwatcher?"
"Because they're always sinister. We've had several in our lives, James, and they're hardly ever what they seem... Gosh! Look what's coming. It's Mr Sterling in a whacking great limousine. Of course, he's been out with Harry's grandfather. Come and meet him."
The big car glided in beside the dusty Triumph. A chauffeur in a peaked cap descended with dignity from the driving seat and opened the door for Mr Sterling, who seemed slightly startled by this ceremony, and even more surprised when Dickie bowed low from the waist and declared:
"Welcome to Witchend, kind sir! Behold, your servants await you."
It was then the chauffeur's turn to look surprised as Mary, who looked exactly like the boy, led a procession of young people running out of the house.
"Not at all, sir. It's been a pleasure," the chauffeur replied as Mr Sterling thanked him, and then tried to maintain his dignity as Dickie signalled him out of the gate like a policeman on point duty.
Peter gave her father a hug and then introduced him to James. She noticed that he was still strained, although he was charming and courteous to their visitor.
"Forgive me for not being here to welcome you, Mr Wilson. I've had an agreeable day with Harriet's grandfather. It's always a pleasure to introduce this country to appreciative friends, and no doubt Petronella has told you that I've spent all my life in these hills. I presume your young friends have shown you your room and we're all very happy to welcome you here and hope you will stay for a night or two if it suits you. Richard, I am sure, is anxious to know what has brought you to Birmingham."
"Thank you very much, Mr Sterling. I'll be glad to tell you presently. It's also possible that some of you can help me, and I've just heard that the twins and Harriet have got a story too."
"We'll have supper first, if you please," Peter said firmly, and led her father into the house.
An hour later, when the sun was sinking behind the Mynd, they left the supper table for the sitting-room and David brought in an enormous coffee pot and a tray of cups.
"Now, James," he said. "Out with it. What are you up to and how can we help? Why are you particularly interested in this country? Come clean."
"There's nothing particularly secret about what I'm investigating and I'll explain all that presently. You'll all understand that it won't help though if too many people round here know who I am and why I'm asking curious questions. I'm after information, but I can promise you that when my story exposes what's going on, it will do a lot of good... You can ask questions afterwards, but I've been sent to Birmingham by the Clarion to get a story about the fake jewellery racket which is causing a lot of concern. It would take too long to tell you the whole story, but an increasing amount of cheap jewellery is being marketed in Britain which is not what it is supposed to be. It is often marked 'Pure Silver' or 'Pure Gold' and it's nothing of the sort. Real gold and silver in small amounts is used in the manufacture of this rubbish, but the genuine precious metals are adulterated, or alloyed, with such base metals as copper and tin. The point is, that although most of this stuff looks like the genuine article and is sold as such at high prices, it is fake. The genuine jewellery trade is being undermined and the public is being swindled... I can see what you want to ask, David. You want to know how the public can be protected? How can you, for instance, if you want to buy Peter a brooch - or even a ring one day - be sure that what you are offered as 'pure' is the real article? Well, you can be certain. The word 'pure' means nothing, but in Britain the genuine article is always 'hallmarked' and is proof that anything made of gold and silver has been officially tested for fineness and quality. There are four qualities of gold marked in carats, and two of silver - sterling and Britannia. Reputable makers of gold and silver jewellery and other articles send what they make to one of the four Assay Offices in Britain where the metal is scientifically tested. If the quality is up to standard it is hall-marked by skilled craftsmen in the Assay Office and returned with this guarantee to the maker... Sorry about this long lecture, twins, but have you got the point of it all?"
"Yes, James," Dickie said. "But what are you doing?"
"I am trying to expose the swindle and I am working with the Assay Office in Birmingham who are concerned about what is happening because they exist to see that the law is enforced. They want to protect the public and safeguard the standards of the genuine manufacturers and jewellers."
David glanced at Peter who was watching her father while James was talking, and then said,
"There's something you haven't told us, isn't there, James? What's the connection between London and Birmingham? Do you mean there is one big gang working this racket? And what can we do for you?... Half a sec, Dickie. We know you've got a story but James told me in London that we might be able to help him. Your turn in a minute... Now come clean, James."
"I'm not really hiding anything. We've got information that one man - or possibly a syndicate - is employing dishonest craftsmen to work in one-room factories in the Midlands. This probably happens in London as well, but up to now the best craftsmen in the jewellery business were trained and worked in Birmingham. The Assay Office have recent evidence that instead of working in the back streets of the city, some are moving out into small provincial towns and even into the country."
"Like round here, for instance?" David suggested, and James nodded.
"Maybe. We're trying to prove a theory that the gangs responsible for the racket are splitting up into smaller groups, some of which are in the power and control of one man. So - and this goes for all of you while you're on holiday - if you see or hear of any suspicious strangers asking if a cottage is for sale, even in very remote parts of the countryside, please let me know. I'll be centred in Birmingham for a while and will give you a telephone number... Now I've come clean and my young colleague is getting purple in the face. Speak up, Richard, and tell us what you've been up to."
Dickie told the story of their adventure last night and of their visit to Beacon Cottage, with only trivial interruptions from Mary. Harriet was so excited that she sat, white-faced, with her hands clasped in her lap while the story of the sinister birdwatcher was unfolded. Before Dickie could give a description of the tweedy little man, however, Mr Sterling, who had not said a word while James was speaking, suddenly interrupted:
"What was this man like, boy? Describe him. Tell us carefully. Did you notice if he had a triangular scar over his right eye? Was he of slight build with untidy, long black hair? How did he get up there? On a motor bicycle, I suppose?"
The twins and Harriet shook their heads. The atmosphere in the room was suddenly tense. Peter moved over to her father's chair as he wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. David watched her, and James, after an anxious glance at Mr Sterling, watched Dickie.
"No, Mr Sterling," he said. "He wasn't like that. He was tubby and wore an old-fashioned tweedy suit with breeches and a stupid little round hat to match. Round his neck hung the biggest pair of binocs I've ever seen. They were real enough and I looked through them at a curlew and he knew all about birds------"
"And he hadn't got a motor bike," Mary interrupted. "He'd got a blue Mini. It was waiting for him outside the cottage and we saw him drive off in it------"
"Yes, and we saw him drive back in it." Harriet got a word in. "It was Dickie who was clever and believed that when we were out of the way he might come back. And he did. Dickie made us hide in the heather and sure enough the stranger drove back, left the car for about ten minutes and nosed round the cottage, but we didn't go back there again."
"Maybe we ought to have gone back," Dickie said. "I don't really know why we didn't. Just tired maybe. I've also made a fearful, shattering boob, James. I'm very, very sorry, but I forgot to take the number of the Mini and I can't remember it, but we'd all three know the car again... I think now that the old birdwatcher might have been looking for something the helicopter dropped. But it wouldn't be birds' eggs, would it? And now there's something else we've got to tell Mr Sterling. You tell it, Peter."
So Peter told her father about the thief in the larder, of how they were sure nothing else had been taken except a little food and a glass of milk and that the twins, Harriet and Macbeth had searched the bedrooms and attic.
"This was brave of them, Dad. I wouldn't have been keen on my own, but Tom told Harriet that he saw a child in the lane, so we think it must have been somebody who had got lost on the hill... Now, Dad, I must ask you again to tell us what really happened yesterday between you and that man on the motor bike who nearly ran me down in the lane. I know you're upset and worried, but none of us know why. It's no use keeping this secret any longer. You've admitted that you thought the twins' birdwatcher might be a man with a scar and that man is obviously the nasty chap who came here yesterday. You told me that you'd seen him before and now that we've got James here too, I beg you to tell us the truth. Please do. I can't bear to see you so worried."
Mr Sterling sat up straight and took his daughter's hand between his.
"Yes, my dear," he said firmly. "I must tell all of you now. I am sorry to have worried you but I had hoped that you would never know about my regrettable meeting with this man just four years ago. This is what happened."
The light was fading outside as Mr Sterling told his story without any elaboration. Peter sat close to him and David on the arm of her chair with one arm round her shoulder. The twins were on the sofa in the window with James, and Harriet sitting on a cushion on the floor leaned against his legs.
The name of the man with the scar was Henry Jones. One day when Peter was at boarding-school in Shrewsbury, Mr Sterling paid one of his rare visits to his employers in Birmingham. At that time he lived in a little cottage by a reservoir called Hatchholt, a mile or so from Witchend, at the head of a valley. He was in charge of the reservoir and lived there alone until Peter came home in the holidays.
On this particular afternoon he had left the offices of the Water Company and was walking down a narrow street on the way to the station when, round a corner, a man came running desperately towards him. He was pursued by several other men shouting, "Stop the thief! Stop that man!" The fugitive was clutching a bulging briefcase and instinctively Mr Sterling tried to stop him, was dealt a fearful blow and knocked half-unconscious into the gutter. Later he learned that the thief, who had just smashed a jeweller's window and scooped up a bag full of jewellery, was caught soon after. Mr Sterling was not seriously hurt but he was an important witness for the police, and some days later did his duty by going back to Birmingham and picking out the man with the scar at an identification parade. Later still he had to attend the trial, and whilst giving evidence was abused and threatened by Jones from the dock.
"It was a most unpleasant experience for me, and I remember that I had a bad headache for several days after. He swore at me and said he would get me one day, but I'm glad to say that I succeeded in putting him out of my mind after a while. And you must understand, Petronella, my dear, that there was no need for me to tell you anything of this sordid matter. I was not seriously hurt, but after what Mr Wilson has told us I must now tell you all that the man who recognized me here yesterday - as I recognized him - was Henry Jones, and he was poking round this house which he wanted to buy. And now I must tell you something else. This afternoon when Mr Sparrow was showing me some treasures in The Golden Lion in Ludlow, which he is going to buy, I saw Jones again. He was staring at me through the glass of the shop door, and it may even be that he has been following me."
They were all much shaken by this story - not so much by what Mr Sterling said but by the effect that memory was having on him and of his obvious fear of the man with the scar. Peter was sure that his fear was not so much for himself as for her, and she was thankful when James broke the silence.
"I'm glad you've told us this, Mr Sterling, and I hope you won't mind if I say what I think. It seems likely, as Jones was nosing round here and actually told you that he wanted to buy this house, that he may be implicated in this jewellery business. As he was convicted and sent to prison we can make some inquiries. But if he really is up to something illegal - and we've no proof of this yet and mustn't jump to conclusions - then he's likely to be more scared of you than you need be of him. It was bad luck for him that you should be here, in charge of a house that interests him. He may have been horrified to see you in the shop this afternoon, but the fact that he was in Ludlow suggests that he may be using it as a centre. Honestly, I don't think you need fear that he'll come here again."
"That's all very well," David said, "but none of us likes the idea of Mr Sterling staying here alone until this business has sorted itself out. We can manage by ourselves here, so why don't you go over to Seven Gates for a few days, Mr Sterling, and stay with Charles and Trudie?"
But Mr Sterling would have nothing to do with this.
"Certainly not, my boy. I'm not running away from Witchend and I'm obliged to Mr Wilson for his sensible point of view. I'm staying here and we'll talk it over again in the morning. Must admit that I feel better for telling you all about it, and you, Petronella, just stop fussing about your old father."
Peter thought this was a little cool and got up to switch on the lights.
"Let's go and look at the moon," she suggested, and then whistled the two dogs and led the way out into the dusk in front of the house. The bats were fluttering silently round the eaves, the brook sang in the culvert, and James was just asking Dickie whether he might be allowed to see their camp when they heard a melodious whistle from the lane.
"Nobody can whistle like Tom," Peter laughed. "He said he'd come round after supper."
Harriet opened the gate and ran to meet him.
"We've had the most fantastic excitements, Tom. We now know why Mr Sterling has been so upset and we can also tell you our adventure. I don't mean the thief in the larder but what happened last night."
"My, my!" Tom said as he tucked her hand into his arm. "What has my-favourite-girl-but-one been up to?"
Before she could answer they had reached the gate and Tom nodded to Wilson and then turned to Peter.
"Who was your visitor, Peter? Not this one. The other chap."
"Who do you mean, Tom? The child who broke into the larder?"
"Shouldn't think so. This bloke was too big to squeeze through a small window. I mean the character with the binoculars round his neck. Met him in the lane up there just getting into a blue Mini. Seemed surprised to see me and gave me a sickly sort of grin when I passed the time o' day. Then he said something about it being a nice evening for watching birds... Bonkers, I shouldn't wonder. It's a good evening right enough, but not many birds are around except the old owl who will be hunting soon... What's the matter with you, Richard? Over-eating again?"
