out.’
He put down his spoon. ‘I heard the goblin behind the hut, crunch. The goblin saw me.’
‘Eat your porridge,’ Harriet ordered.
I pulled up a stool beside the child. ‘What was the goblin like?’
‘Waiting.’
‘He didn’t see a goblin,’ Harriet said wearily. ‘If he’d seen a goblin, I’d have seen a goblin.’
The little fellow let out a wail. ‘I heard a goblin crunch. It saw me.’
‘Shut up.’
‘You shut up.’
‘No. I said it first. You shut up.’
What did a goblin sound like, I wondered? The footprints behind the hut had been on the large side for a goblin, but about right for a woman, or a small man.
Raymond Turnbull had small hands. Did he have small feet, too? He would stand to gain this house if Mary Jane received notice to quit. And Raymond Turnbull was courting. He would marry next Saturday. He did not seem to me to have it in him to kill. But his father did.
‘I’ll go up and have a word with your mam.’
The stone steps of the narrow staircase were used like shelves, with an item on the left side of every stair: shoes; boot cleaning stuff; button box; Oxo tin with recipes peeping out; an old biscuit tin bursting with documents.
On either side of the top step was a bedroom, the one on the left not much bigger than a cupboard.
‘I’m in here,’ Mary Jane called from the tiniest bedroom, where she was stripping a single bed. This was the children’s room, and reeked of urine. Did poor little Austin always wet the bed, or was he distressed by his father’s disappearance? Mary Jane rolled the sheet into aball and dropped it in a pillowcase, saying, ‘That’s better. You can take the peg off your snitch.’ She nodded me across to the other room as she unceremoniously slung the laundry down the stairs, expertly avoiding all the tins, boxes and shoes as she did so.
The opposite bedroom was larger, but not much. It contained a double bed and dressing table. Mary Jane sat down on the bed and patted the space beside her. Speaking quietly, she said, ‘Harriet told me you saw Turnbull and Raymond, and that she found Ethan’s cap.’
‘Yes. And then I went to the police station. Not much joy with Sergeant Sharp, I’m afraid. He thinks Ethan has left you.’
‘I knew he’d say that. Did you tell him about the cap?’
‘Yes but it didn’t make an impression on him. When the children have gone to school, I want us to go over everything, check whether Ethan may have taken some belongings, or left some clue that might give us a lead. I’ll find out as much as I can today and that might force Sergeant Sharp to take the matter further. If he doesn’t, I will.’
She nodded, reached for a bolster, began to take off its cover.
‘After that, I’d like you to take me to the farm, and to see Colonel Ledger.’
She dropped the bolster. ‘Why?’
‘The farm because I want to talk to Bob Conroy and Arthur.’
‘But why the colonel I mean?’
‘Ethan sent him a note to come and see the sundial. If he came, he may have been the last person to see Ethan.’
She picked up the bolster and clutched it to her. ‘He won’t have. The colonel wouldn’t come to the quarry.’
‘All the same, we have to check. Is that Ethan’s suit on the back of the door?’
‘Yes. There’s nowt in the pockets. I checked.’
‘Do you mind if I do?’
She shrugged. ‘Look at whatever you like.’
I stepped out of the way while she stripped two sheets off the bed. With an armful of linen, she moved to the door. Catching my eye, she said defensively, ‘It’s a good windy day for drying. The world doesn’t stop turning.’
She tied the corners of the sheets to make a bundle and then flung the laundry down the stairs, walking down after it. I could hear her talking to the children.
I checked Ethan’s pockets. Nothing in the trouser pockets. In the top pocket of the jacket were a couple of matches; nothing in the outside pockets; in the inside jacket pocket my fingers
He put down his spoon. ‘I heard the goblin behind the hut, crunch. The goblin saw me.’
‘Eat your porridge,’ Harriet ordered.
I pulled up a stool beside the child. ‘What was the goblin like?’
‘Waiting.’
‘He didn’t see a goblin,’ Harriet said wearily. ‘If he’d seen a goblin, I’d have seen a goblin.’
The little fellow let out a wail. ‘I heard a goblin crunch. It saw me.’
‘Shut up.’
‘You shut up.’
‘No. I said it first. You shut up.’
What did a goblin sound like, I wondered? The footprints behind the hut had been on the large side for a goblin, but about right for a woman, or a small man.
Raymond Turnbull had small hands. Did he have small feet, too? He would stand to gain this house if Mary Jane received notice to quit. And Raymond Turnbull was courting. He would marry next Saturday. He did not seem to me to have it in him to kill. But his father did.
‘I’ll go up and have a word with your mam.’
The stone steps of the narrow staircase were used like shelves, with an item on the left side of every stair: shoes; boot cleaning stuff; button box; Oxo tin with recipes peeping out; an old biscuit tin bursting with documents.
On either side of the top step was a bedroom, the one on the left not much bigger than a cupboard.
‘I’m in here,’ Mary Jane called from the tiniest bedroom, where she was stripping a single bed. This was the children’s room, and reeked of urine. Did poor little Austin always wet the bed, or was he distressed by his father’s disappearance? Mary Jane rolled the sheet into aball and dropped it in a pillowcase, saying, ‘That’s better. You can take the peg off your snitch.’ She nodded me across to the other room as she unceremoniously slung the laundry down the stairs, expertly avoiding all the tins, boxes and shoes as she did so.
The opposite bedroom was larger, but not much. It contained a double bed and dressing table. Mary Jane sat down on the bed and patted the space beside her. Speaking quietly, she said, ‘Harriet told me you saw Turnbull and Raymond, and that she found Ethan’s cap.’
‘Yes. And then I went to the police station. Not much joy with Sergeant Sharp, I’m afraid. He thinks Ethan has left you.’
‘I knew he’d say that. Did you tell him about the cap?’
‘Yes but it didn’t make an impression on him. When the children have gone to school, I want us to go over everything, check whether Ethan may have taken some belongings, or left some clue that might give us a lead. I’ll find out as much as I can today and that might force Sergeant Sharp to take the matter further. If he doesn’t, I will.’
She nodded, reached for a bolster, began to take off its cover.
‘After that, I’d like you to take me to the farm, and to see Colonel Ledger.’
She dropped the bolster. ‘Why?’
‘The farm because I want to talk to Bob Conroy and Arthur.’
‘But why the colonel I mean?’
‘Ethan sent him a note to come and see the sundial. If he came, he may have been the last person to see Ethan.’
She picked up the bolster and clutched it to her. ‘He won’t have. The colonel wouldn’t come to the quarry.’
‘All the same, we have to check. Is that Ethan’s suit on the back of the door?’
‘Yes. There’s nowt in the pockets. I checked.’
‘Do you mind if I do?’
She shrugged. ‘Look at whatever you like.’
I stepped out of the way while she stripped two sheets off the bed. With an armful of linen, she moved to the door. Catching my eye, she said defensively, ‘It’s a good windy day for drying. The world doesn’t stop turning.’
She tied the corners of the sheets to make a bundle and then flung the laundry down the stairs, walking down after it. I could hear her talking to the children.
I checked Ethan’s pockets. Nothing in the trouser pockets. In the top pocket of the jacket were a couple of matches; nothing in the outside pockets; in the inside jacket pocket my fingers
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