The Quest for the Penny Black, page 15
It took about an hour but finally the detective was satisfied with the statement. ‘Thank you Madam,’ he said. ‘You’ve been very helpful. Now I must be going.’
‘Won’t you have any tea?’
‘Not this time. I have to get back to the station.’
‘Oh, I do hope you sort it out soon.’
‘Don’t worry Madam. We will. I must go now. Thank you for your help.’ He rose and Mrs W let him out.
‘Everything all right then?’
‘Yes.’ She went back to the paper. After a while, she looked up. ‘I’ve finished,’ she said, not telling him that she had stayed up most of the night to resolve it.
‘Good,’ replied Jake. ‘What does it say?’ He took it from Mr W and peered at it. It was in the script that he couldn’t understand and Mrs W had translated it below.
‘I’ll have to get my glasses,’ he muttered and went off to find them. On returning, he picked up the paper. ‘Sounds funny,’ he commented and began to read it.
‘It took a long time to do it,’ she commented. ‘The photos weren’t very clear.’
It read as follows:
To yo* who may h*v* thought that y*u have won ev**ything **arts before number one.
Wit* it we*re like an ora*ge cut in st*ips. With**t it the trips would be full of night and* day in glorious confu*ion.
The sound of Bach or Straus emit **om above where it lies in sle*p so disturb it not esp**ially on a Sunday.
Look for the arrow that pierces our heart.
‘Well I don’t know,’ commented Jake. ‘I guess it’s somewhere in London, but where?’
‘Mr Brown and his men will be here this afternoon. Let’s see what they make of it.’
A ‘toot’ in the road sounded an hour or so later, followed by a knock on the door, and indicated that Archie and his gang had arrived. ‘Open the door, Mr Drew,’
Jake got up and went to the front door. To his delight, Moira was there dressed in an exotic outfit. Muster was dressed in a working overall whilst Raz sported a black zip-up jacket and skin-tight black, shiny jeans with black boots complete with chains hanging down to his knees.
‘You look like the devil,’ commented Jake, thinking he looked stupid.
‘Oh aye?’ replied Raz.
‘Come in,’ he gushed, closely following Moira in to smell her perfume.
‘Afternoon Mrs,’ said Archie. ‘How are you today?’
‘Oh, not good.’ she replied. ‘One of my friends was killed yesterday.’
‘Oh, dear! Nothing serious, I hope.’
Moira dug him in the ribs. ‘I meant nothing serious, as long as you’re safe.’
‘Oh yes. It was terrible. I’ve known him for many years you know? However that’s not why you’re here today. Sit while I make some tea.’ She went off to the kitchen.
‘What was that about?’ hissed Archie.
‘It’s a long story but you’ve probably read it in the papers.’
‘No I haven’t bought a paper today.’
‘Oh never mind. The main thing is that Mrs W has translated the message.’
‘Has she? What’s it say?’
Jake passed the paper over and each of them looked at it.
‘Canna understand that,’ commented Raz.
Nick didn’t bother to answer and just kept dropping betel shells on the carpet.
‘Pick them up,’ hissed Archie. ‘You know how particular she is.’
‘OK a OK a,’ he replied bending down, picking up the shells and depositing them down the sides of the sofa.
Mrs W returned with the tea. ‘Have you solved it yet?’ she asked as she poured the cups and handed them round.
‘No Mum,’ replied Muster.
‘OK,’ she said sitting down in her favourite chair. ‘Now line by line, what’s before one?’
‘Nufffink,’ replied Muster.
‘Very good, but how can we describe something that is before one?’
‘I tink it be twelve clock time,’ offered Nick.
‘No I don’t think so. Anything else?’
‘Well it could be somefink to do with the ice rink. That’s below zero,’ offered Muster.
‘Well,’ said Jake. ‘Zero is before one, ain’t it?’
‘Right,’ replied Mrs W. ‘Rodney, sit!’ Rodney, who now felt better, had been edging towards Raz and the dangling chain shining in front of him. Upon hearing the serious command, he retreated behind the settee.
‘When I was a little girl,’ began Moira. ‘My dad used to take me to Greenwich Park to see the Observatory. I used to jump over that line they have on the ground.’
‘Got it!’ exclaimed Mrs W, after a few minutes of hesitation. ‘It’s at the Greenwich Park at the zero meridian.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Archie.
‘Well, the next line says “we’re like an orange cut into strips”, vertical strips, the lines of longitude.’
‘What a lines?’ asked Nick.
‘The imaginary lines that dissect the time zones. Yes, the next line says we would be in confusion, but for the lines. They’re the lines of longitude! Well done Miss del Grace!’
Moira sat back pleased with herself.
‘What’s next?’ She looked at the paper. ‘“The sounds of Bach and Strauss” … Where is that in the park?’
‘Its music, so it’s on the bandstand,’ commented Muster.
‘And the bandstand’s in the park, so the note is there and,’ looking at the note again, ‘under the bandstand.’ She sat back. ‘That wasn’t hard, was it?’
‘No,’ replied Jake. ‘All we have to do is turn up at the bandstand and go under the floor.’
‘Yes,’ said Archie looking at his watch. ‘I think they close the gates at 6 and its 3.45 now.’
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ replied Mrs W, ‘but the traffic will be heavy now. We won’t get there until nearly closing time. I suggest we meet tomorrow at 9 and then all go to the park.’
‘Better,’ agreed Archie. ‘We’ll bring some torches and shovels.’
‘Well that’s settled,’ confirmed Mrs W. ‘Now drink your tea.’
They sat there for a while, each caught up in their own thoughts. Then Archie got up. ‘Come on you lot, let’s leave Mrs W in peace.’
Making their way to the front door, Jake got as near as he could to Moira and tried to grab her from behind. As he bent forward, Raz stepped in the way and he grabbed Raz’s rump.
‘Oh!’ he said. ‘I didn’t know you cared!’
‘Bugger off,’ retorted Jake, most disappointed. They got into a van and took off down the road.
The man on the motorbike, noting that Mrs W and Jake weren’t amongst the people, ignored them, intending to inform his paymasters later.
Chapter 14
Mrs W awoke early, went downstairs and let Rodney out in the garden, then proceeded to get ready for the day’s outing. As she was passing the lounge, the telephone rang. It was Archie.
‘Sorry Mrs W,’ he began. ‘We won’t be able to come for a day or two. Work you know.’
‘Oh I see,’ she replied. ‘Very well Mr Brown. Keep in touch.’
‘Certainly.’ and the phone went dead. She turned to find Jake coming down the stairs. ‘Oh, Mr Drew, Mr Brown and his men won’t be with us today. They say they have something on.’
‘Oh. In that case, we’ll do it ourselves. I’ll take my tools in case they’re needed.’
‘Do you think we can handle it?’
‘Yes. It’s only at the bandstand. Come on Rodney.’ Rodney, who must have been listening, jumped up at Jake’s legs. He liked going to the shops where he would be secured outside and could sniff all the people going in.
She got the lead, put it on Rodney and Jake and the dog went off. She closed the door. Time to tidy up, she decided, as she made her way to the kitchen.
After an hour, Jake returned.
‘I’ll get my stuff together,’ he told Mrs W, ‘and be ready in a jiff.’
‘Shall I take some tea and biscuits?’
‘Yes. You can if you like. Use the thermos.’
‘Very well.’ and she went into the kitchen to get the food ready.
Jake eventually came down with a sports bag brimming with tools plus a small plastic chair.
‘What have you got there?’ she asked.
‘Anything we may need under the stand,’ he answered. Well, you go and get the car. I’ll wait by the front door. She handed him the keys and he went out the kitchen door to the outhouse, followed by Rodney. Grabbing his collar, he brought the dog back into the kitchen.
‘Now you didn’t forget him did you?’ he asked.
‘No no,’ she replied vaguely. ‘Put him in his box. I’ve left some food.’
Jake went the ritual of starting the car, backed it out into the lane to the front of the house and hooted the horn. Mrs W came out of the house. He got out and helped her climb into the car. After putting the gear into the boot, he jumped into the driver’s seat and called, ‘Alley oop, here we go!’
They made their way through Peckham high street, then down to Greenwich Park, proceeding through the gates and parked in the car park. They got out and walked the short distance to the bandstand. There was no one there. Walking around it, they noted it was about four and a half feet high from the ground to the stage, high enough to crawl under. A small door was seen at the back secured with a lock. ‘Here we are,’ he said. ‘Let me open it.’ He took out a pair of cutters and cut the lock. The door edged open with a creak. It was dark inside. Removing a torch from his bag, he shone it in. They could see it was made of wood with angular supports holding the stage up. The floor consisted of small concrete slabs positioned under the supports with earth in between them.
‘I’ll go in now and look for the arrow. You can stay out here.’
‘No, I’ll come in and sit by the door,’ she answered. Crawling in, with Mrs W taking up her position near the door, Jake worked his way over to the other side, shining his torch upwards hoping to find the definitive arrow.
‘See anything?’ she asked.
‘No. Not yet.’
He scrambled around. Then she heard him whisper. ‘Ah! I can see an arrow on this angled wood. It’s resting on the ground. I’ll cut it off and dig under the slab.’ He cut the support and moved it out of the way, then lifting the small slab with a screwdriver; he poked around under it with his trowel. After digging down about 12 inches, he looked at Mrs W. ‘I don’t think it’s here,’ he said.
‘You’d better replace the support.’ she advised. ‘Then look for another one.’
He put the support back and shored it up into position. Then he shone his torch around and sure enough, there was an arrow on another angular support. It also pressed on the ground. Sighing, he cut the support, moved it away, lifted the slab and dug underneath. ‘Nope,’ he said. ‘Not here.’
‘It must be somewhere,’ she replied. They had now been under the bandstand for an hour and Mrs W was getting stiff. As she was speaking, she heard the sound of footsteps and muttering of people. Opening the door ajar, she saw some men carrying musical instruments. They were dressed in police uniforms. A ‘thump thump’ was heard as the players mounted the stage.
‘Christ!’ he whispered. ‘What’s that?’
‘A band’s come,’ she hissed. Then came sounds of chairs being scraped across the stage, then it went quiet.
‘Can you see any more arrows?’ she whispered.
‘Yes, there’s three more. Two under the side and one in the centre.’
‘Well, wait until they start playing. Then cut the wood,’ she suggested. ‘That way, they won’t hear you.’
More mutterings could be heard, then a tap tap. Suddenly, the band opened with a blasting of marching military music, care of De Sousa.
‘Cut, cut,’ she whispered urgently and Jake cut the side supports. Moving them to one side, he repeated the process. ‘No,’ he shouted over the noise, ‘It’s empty.’
‘Well cut the middle one.’
‘OK, but I’d better support it first.’ and he cut and banged the missing supports in time with the music to replace the centre. The band was playing and the noise was deafening. Jake cut the centre support and moved it. Removing the slab, he dug underneath. ‘There’s something here,’ he whispered and reached down in the hole to reveal the same small cigar box, this time wrapped in a canvas type material.
‘Good enough,’ said Mrs W in a low voice. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ She opened the rear door wide enough for her to squeeze through.
Jake began to follow but looking back, to his horror, he could see the central support he had replaced beginning to slip. ‘Shit!’ he uttered as his legs cleared the doorway. Suddenly as the band was playing the centre support gave way, followed by the side supports he had removed. The whole band slid towards the centre then disappeared in a heap in the middle together with a tangle of musical instruments. Onlookers came running and Jake and Mrs W pretended to join them. No one was hurt, but the centre of the stage had collapsed downwards to the ground. Looking casually at the mêlée, they walked calmly away towards the observatory.
Some Japanese visitors nearby who had seen the events laughed loudly and blessed the day they had remembered to bring their cameras when they saw the resultant mess. ‘Lees Blitish is klazy!’ commented one of them. ‘I no understand why they do this?’ The others shook their heads and pondered over the antics of the British.
Jake and Mrs W carried on walking, stopping only to give the occasional glance back. No one was following them.
‘This has been good fun,’ she laughed. ‘Why nothing like this has happened since my late husband fell into a cesspit in Egypt.’ Eyeing the ‘Ladies’ in front of them, she turned to Jake. ‘Right, I must use the toilet. You wait here and we’ll have our tea.’
She disappeared into the ladies, to reappear some minutes later looking much refreshed. Jake had opened the thermos and poured the tea and biscuits, and sat on a hanky on the seat. She sat down and took a sip.
‘I remember coming here when I was a child,’ she reminisced, ‘and also when my husband was courting me. We sat in the same chairs and watched the band at the same bandstand.’
‘Not quite the same.’ interrupted Jake.
‘No,’ she laughed. ‘We were naughty weren’t we? What about you Jake? Do you have any memories?’
Jake leaned back. ‘Well,’ he began, ‘I’ve spent most of my life at sea. I joined the merchant navy when I was 20 odd. Before that, I was quite bad and got thrown out by my family.’
‘I’m sorry to hear it. Do you have any brothers or sisters?’
‘I have a brother and two sisters, but only my brother kept in touch and then I lost his address and haven’t heard from him in twenty years. I think he lives in South Africa.’
‘Oh, that is sad.’
‘Yes, we were quite close. It upset him a lot, so I was told.’
Mrs W made a note to remember that point and would be taking it up later. ‘Have you had any scary moments?’
‘Yes, when we were on the Atlantic run during the last war. We were torpedoed by a jerry submarine and we managed to get to a lifeboat. The jerry submarine came up and took all the lads they could carry and left us with provisions and a light. We were at sea for twenty days before a coastguard plane spotted us.’
‘How terrible,’ she answered. ‘Those were hard times.’
‘Yes. When we got back, we heard that the submarine where our mates were was torpedoed by one of ours and they all died. Funny ain’t it.’
‘Were you ever married?’
‘Yes, but the war broke it and when our kid died of polio in 1952, it was the end. She divorced me and I don’t blame her. She died some years ago. I went back to the navy until they retired me. I swore I would grow my beard in memory of my mates and vowed I wouldn’t remove it until I had found what I was looking for.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Dunno.’ He laughed. ‘I’m still looking. And you?’
‘Not much to say, really, I graduated many years ago and met my husband who was a teacher in another class. He was brilliant and soon we got married and he worked his way up to be a Director with the Natural History Museum. We were also fellows of the other museums in the area. Before the war, we went all round the Middle East and Greece as archaeologists working with the governments. That’s where I learnt the languages of the early civilisations. Anyway, he died some years ago and left me a stipend and the house.’
‘Do you have any memories of the house?’
‘Oh yes. We bought it in 1935 and did it up. We used to have wonderful parties there. It seems so quite now Monty’s gone.’ Her voice trailed off and she sat there, deep in thought.
Jake changed the subject. ‘Any kids?’
‘No that’s one thing I regret.’
They sat there in silence each concerned with their own thoughts. ‘So have you decided what to do, if we get the money?’ she asked.
‘When,’ he replied, ‘not if. Yes, I’ll go back to sea. It’s quiet and clean and no one bothers you. Of course it’ll be on my own boat.’
‘Sensible,’ she agreed. ‘Well,’ she continued looking at her watch. ‘Let’s go and see the Observatory. I haven’t been there for years.’
‘What shall I do with the chair?’
‘Carry it. I may want to rest later.’ They laughed and proceeded towards the hallowed home of the beginning of astronomy.
After another two hours, Mrs W and Jake decided they had had enough. So they went back to the car and made their way back home. On the way, they bought some fish and chips to be eaten later.
Mrs W was tired. ‘I think I’ll have a rest now,’ she told Jake. ‘As Mr Brown is away for a few days, we have plenty of time to decipher the next clue.’
‘I agree,’ replied Jake. ‘I’m tired so I’ll have a wash and see you tomorrow. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight,’ she replied. After he had gone upstairs, Mrs W went to the phone. She called Margaret, her friend.
‘You know you spoke to me about Villiers House and the Earl of oh, whoever.’
