EQMM 2008-12 by Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine

Author:Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine [Magazine, Ellery Queen’s Mystery]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

3.

—In which a man of the cloth provides three names and the police decide to rattle a cage or two.

The only “Joe” in the address book was deemed to be Joseph Patterson. The phone number beside the name was twenty years old but was rung nonetheless. It proved to be the number of Joe’s mother, who provided the police with “dear Joseph’s” present address, in Harrogate. One hour later Hennessey and Yellich knocked on his door.

“Oh, Norbert.” Joe Patterson had invited the police officers through the pleasant chaos of his house—wife, children, dog, cat, hamsters—to the sanctity and the tranquility of his study. “He didn’t have an easy time of it. It’s difficult to be accepted if you’re not particularly bright, don’t have a perceptible personality, don’t come from the middle classes.”

“Which was Norbert Parkes?”

“As you say.” Patterson sat back, wearing his clerical collar and smooth-front, buttonless shirt. “He had nothing to offer, basically that was his problem—no image, no academic skills, no interest outside the course that he could talk about or that would give an aspect to himself. He wanted to belong, as we all do, but had nothing to offer as a means of gaining acceptance. So he became a bit of a hanger-on.”

“Do you remember your social circle at the university?”

“Oh, like yesterday. Let me see. I suppose the leader of the group was Miles Trewlawney, came from a well-established legal family in the Vale of York. He had a real down on Norbert, gave him a hard time, resented people like Norbert attending the university. He was a real snob. I didn’t take to him, but I did like ‘Hat’ Sewell, Harriet to give her her full name, and a Scots lad called Cameron McKay. I was accepted by them, and Norbert latched on to me. And we socialised together throughout the three years of the course, with Norbert ‘taking life easy’ all the time.”

“That’s an expression we’ve heard before today.”

“It was Norbert’s catch phrase. His excuse for not applying himself. He’d ‘dropped out’ without ever really having ‘dropped in.’ I don’t know the full extent of his home circumstances, his growing up, but he wasn’t equipped for life. The over-indulged younger son, perhaps? I don’t know. But university was a shock when he found he wasn’t the centre of attention and that he was expected to work for his grades. A bit ‘disabled’ in a sense. I suppose that’s why I allowed him to latch on to me.”

“The last time you saw him?”

“After graduation. The last time I heard of him, though, was when I was invited to help Miles house-sit his parents’ house. He phoned me up and added with a snigger that Norbert would be there. I declined. I knew Miles Trewlawney, I knew his invitation to Norbert was only so as to show Norbert what he was missing in terms of quality of lifestyle and to have him there as the butt of all jokes and patronising comments. And I also thought I’d done enough for Norbert.

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