The Bockhampton Road Murders by Pat Herbert

Author:Pat Herbert [Herbert, Pat]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-26T05:00:00+00:00

25

“I’ve been meaning to do this for ages. These privets don’t half creep up on you, don’t they?” The man was leaning over the incalcitrant hedge, shears in his hand.

Bernard smiled. He recognised one of his regular churchgoers, Brian Franklin. “Hello, Brian, how are you?”

“Very well, thank you, Vicar. You looking for Bert? Or Mary?”

Bernard and Robbie had been relieved to find both Allardyces out when they arrived at 57 Bockhampton Road just after eight o’clock that evening. They had probably gone to the pictures.

“Well, both, actually. We didn’t say we were coming, so no harm done. We’ll catch up with them later,” said Bernard.

“Do you know where they’ve gone?” Robbie asked Mr Franklin.

“Well, I know Bert’s gone to the Bricklayer’s. Mary wasn’t with him, though. Not sure where she is. My wife still has the kids, you know.”

“Oh,” said Bernard. “Are you looking after them this evening?” This corroborated his theory that the Allardyces were at the pictures.

“Yes. Well, actually my wife’s a bit cross,” he said, leaning further forward and crushing his privet into submission in the process. “Mary left them with Jean while she and Bert went to the docs – oh, they were coming to see you, Doc.” The light of recognition was in Brian’s eyes. The evening was overcast, but there was still enough light to see Robbie’s face, as well as the privet, apparently.

“Yes. Well, didn’t they come back?”

“That’s just it. We heard them come in and my Jean was getting the kids ready to return them when Bert came out again.”

“So?” Robbie recognised Brian Franklin now. One of the worst hypochondriacs on his panel. “Why didn’t she return them?”

“She tried. But when she took them round, the place was in darkness and Mary didn’t answer. She must’ve gone with Bert, although I can’t say I saw her go. And it’s a bit rich, going to the pub and saddling us with their kids all night. We’ve got two of our own, which is enough.”

Bernard and Robbie thanked the man and, leaving him muttering to himself, they hurried as one man to the Bricklayer’s Arms.

“Let’s hope that’s where they are,” said Robbie, distinctly alarmed.

“Oh, I’m sure they are,” said Bernard, a little out of breath in his attempt to keep pace with his friend’s longer strides. “He just didn’t see her go, that’s all.”

“That man wouldn’t miss anything,” said Robbie grimly. “Why would he be trimming his hedge at this time of night, if he wasn’t being nosy?”

Bernard, too out of breath to speak now, just nodded, as they arrived at the door of the Bricklayer’s Arms.

The pub was packed which wasn’t unusual at the end of the working week. Robbie grinned at his friend. “I bet you wish all the regulars here attended your church, eh Bernie?”

Bernard sighed. “In a perfect world, dear friend. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen you at my Sunday services very much lately.”

MacTavish gave an embarrassed cough. “You know what it’s like, Bernie. I’m often called out to see patients on Sundays – I can’t always get there in time.

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