DEATH ON BOARD a captivating historical mystery by PAULINE ROWSON

Author:PAULINE ROWSON [ROWSON, PAULINE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Joffe Books crime thriller, mystery and suspense
Published: 2024-06-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Heading to Tregarris House, Pascoe said, ‘It doesn’t look good for him.’

‘It does if the sleeping-berth attendant remembers him on the train the entire journey. But Logan could have an accomplice, and most probably has.’ But who? Miss Enys? Would Logan go out of his way to help and protect her?

They pulled up outside the house. ‘There’s no one here,’ Logan said, marching in, Ryga noticed, without needing to unlock the door. ‘My cook, Mrs Masterman, has been and gone. The char comes in twice a week to do the downstairs rooms I use, and my bedroom and bathroom. This is not her day. And neither is Saturday or Sunday,’ he added, waltzing through the hall. ‘So you won’t be able to check with her, or Mrs Masterman, who doesn’t work Saturdays, and as I wasn’t here on Sunday to have the roast dinner she usually plates up for me, you can’t confirm that with her either, Inspector. No alibi for then. But I’ve got four board members in London who will tell you where I was on Monday.’

‘I’d like Sergeant Pascoe to inspect the interior of your car.’

‘The keys are in the ignition. And the stable block is unlocked if you want to poke your nose around it. But all you’ll find is dust, cobwebs and rotting farm implements.’

Ryga handed Pascoe his murder case and the sergeant slipped out.

‘Drink?’ asked Logan, striding into the lounge.

‘No, thank you.’

‘Don’t mind if I do.’ He poured himself a stiff whisky. ‘Where do you want to start? In here?’ He waved the glass around the faded room.

‘Upstairs. I’ll work my way down.’

‘Go ahead. You don’t need me.’

‘I’d prefer you to accompany me.’

Logan gave a twisted smile. ‘In case I secrete some evidence while you’re out of this room.’

Ryga smiled. ‘Something like that.’ Again he saw in Logan’s eyes that connection between them. Their shared harrowing experience of the searches in the camps and the standing about outside for longer than necessary — in his case often in freezing cold, in Logan’s in unbearable heat — and the punishments that followed whether warranted or not.

Logan tossed back the whisky. ‘OK, let’s get going.’

The stairs were dusty. The attic rooms more so, with cobwebs hanging from the ceiling, the windows grimy and the wallpaper peeling. The basic furniture — that of one-time servants, and latterly of evacuees or Bevin Boys — was broken, damp and dirty. There was no disturbance of dust to indicate anyone had set foot in them for months, years.

Descending to the first floor, Ryga said, ‘Did you have help while your wife was alive?’

Logan tensed at the word ‘alive’, but his voice was even when he spoke. ‘We did, but there are enough rooms on this floor to accommodate them. We had a daily help and a live-in maid, Mary. Shortly after Charlotte died, she married a mechanic and moved to Lynmouth in Devon. Her husband was offered a job there in a garage. We also had a cook-cum-housekeeper, Mrs Knowles, widowed.

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