Chapter 6 - Tell Us What You Know
"Let's have the kid in first," Helford decided. "I want to get him to shoot his mouth off about Whatsisname getting kicked out."
Dean consulted his notebook. "Chewter, sir. Hadn't we better get a first name out of Mr Tanner?"
"Good thinking, Dean." Helford liked his Sergeant to put in suggestions - but never in front of witnesses. "Well, bring on the next act..."
Dean came back with Ben Wickens, who sat in front of D.I.Helford with rapt attention.
"You said that Mr Chewter was 'kicked out' of the job - please tell us what you know about that. Don't feel you have to hold back - after all this is a murder investigation," Helford told him.
Ben jutted his chin forward. "Harry said it could be spreading idle gossip, if it turned out not to be Mr Chewter down there after all. He might be sitting at home right now, and I'd be giving him a bad name."
Helford's eyebrows rose. "That is certainly true, Mr Wickens. Perhaps you could help us determine if Mr Chewter is indeed sitting at home. Do you know his first name, or his address?"
Dean looked up in surprise. Ben screwed up his eyes in concentration. "Gerald, he was. Perilous Gerald, the girls called him. 'Cos he made them feel - er, in peril I suppose. He lives in that nice house on the corner of Edge Lane and the new Development. I often saw him standing outside it, on my way in to work, watching the lorries coming in and out of the site."
Keith Helford reached for a telephone directory that he had seen earlier on a shelf under the window. He flicked the pages until he came to the right entry. He picked up the phone and dialled '9' for an outside line, guessing correctly that this office had the conventional system. He punched in the numbers, and listened for a while to a ringing tone.
"Dean," he said, "put your head outside and call a couple of constables. Send them to this address," as he scribbled on a piece of paper, "and if they get no reply, tell them to ask the neighbours if there's been any sight of Mr Chewter in the past few days."
Jeff did as he was told, then sat back down with his notebook. Helford sat back in the chair and gazed at Ben. "All right, Mr Wickens, we'll leave that subject for the moment. Tell me about your boss, Mr Tanner."
"Harry's the best. He'd do anything for anyone, he would. And anything for Pebbleton."
"So I hear - I gather he is very devoted to the village."
"He'd flatten anyone who bad-mouthed this place. Oh, not literally - I just meant that he's put so much in, that he'd defend Pebbleton to his last breath."
"How did he get on with Mr Chewter?"
"Fine. Harry just gets on with the job, doesn't really care who's in charge in here. He knows what needs doing better than they do anyway. Chewter wasn't interested in flowers and plants, so he just left it to Harry. They didn't get along like great buddies, but they were totally different personalities."
'Observant,' thought Helford. He nodded and asked, "How long have you been working for the Council?"
"I joined about a year and a half ago, a year before Chewter left anyway."
"What do you make of the new Parish Clerk?"
"He's OK, seems friendly. He doesn't take himself too seriously, you can have a laugh with him, like. The girls here like him."
This comment revealed a lot, by contrast, of what Ben really thought of Chewter. Helford scribbled on a pad 'Took himself seriously? Girls didn't like him?' and thought for a moment.
"Tell me about Fiona Carvell."
Ben looked surprised. "Don't know where she parks her broomstick," he blurted out, before he remembered Harry's advice just a few minutes ago to mind his tongue about his work colleagues' reputations. In Fiona's case, however, he decided to be candid.
"You don't like her? She isn't your manager, is she?"
"She thinks she's everyone's manager. We get told off if we get dirt on the carpet, if we order too much stuff, if we don't get our timesheets in on the right day, you name it. Can't see her smacking Chewter, though. Too untidy for her liking. She'd use hemlock."
Helford could barely stop himself from laughing. "Thank you, Mr Wickens, just leave the detection to us. That'll be all for the moment, but I would appreciate it if you could wait for a while until I've seen Mr Tanner."
Ben got up, and Helford left it until his hand was on the door handle to say: "One more thing - why did Harry send you down to the basement first - he mentioned that was how it happened?"
Ben turned. "I was just hanging about at the end of the day with nothing to do. My mate parks the van, he's the driver - I bring the paperwork in to Harry. He thought it was just a bit of a mess down there, and wanted to know if we could leave it till tomorrow."
"Thanks." Helford made another note. Ben hesitated, so Helford nodded at him to leave.
"I wonder," Helford mused. "Tanner has the keys, he makes sure he isn't alone when the body is found, he is passionately defensive over the village - maybe Chewter threatened to trample on his prize dahlias."
"If only it were that easy...." Dean replied. "My mum says gardeners are the most psychologically balanced people, in touch with the soil and all that. Not many homicidal tendencies."
"Let's see if your mum is right. Bring forth Mr Tanner."
Harry Tanner looked glum as he entered the room. "I hope that young idiot hasn't been putting ideas into your heads," he began before Helford could speak.
"We listen to everyone, but we are not fools, Mr Tanner. Please tell me first of all what you can about your new Parish Clerk."
Tanner looked surprised, but relaxed a little. "Decent fellow, knows a bit about plants. Lets me get on with my job, doesn't interfere, that's all I ask. I've no complaints."
Helford wrote something down, then looked up. "Ben Wickens, tell me about him."
"He's all right, coming along nicely if he pays attention to his work and doesn't try to be too smart. Young 'uns, think they know everything. No, he's a bright lad, I've had worse on the Team."
"Can you tell me who has the keys to the basement and the door to the room with the tunnel?"
"Ah." Harry thought for a minute. "Apart from me, there would be Mr Goswell, Miss Carvell, and......probably Mrs Coulthard. Accounts, she is - must have put some stuff in the archives, I suppose. Anyone else would just ask one of us for the key, if they needed anything. It's ages since anyone wanted to get anything out of there, though. Don't know why they don't clear all that old rubbish out."
"How did Ben get in today?"
"I gave him my keys, of course. Reckoned it was just a fuss about nothing, a bit of broken glass. She - Mrs Couthard - said it was messy before she knocked over the bottles, but I thought it might have been a rat, or something, got in there."
"How would a rat get in there? It looked sealed to me."
"Ah, the tunnel goes back beyond......." he was lost in thought for a moment. Then he slowly resumed the sentence. "Beyond the wall you saw. It's not sealed completely, there are air gaps, and the tunnel comes up in different places in the village. Something could have got in that way. Look, I don't know what I thought, I just wanted to keep Kim Coulthard happy."
"Sorry? How would it keep her happy?"
"She was upset by the stuffed eagle falling over on her." The Inspector's eyebrows twisted upwards in a question, so Harry explained the story of Kim and Melissa's visit to the basement.
Helford consulted the staff list James had given him. Kim's name and details were there. So it was she who had opened this particular can of worms. He made a mental note to speak to her as soon as possible. He looked in vain for a Melissa, and scribbled that name on his notepad.
"Do you know why Mrs Coulthard and this Melissa went to the basement?"
"Melissa is a new employee. As I understand it, Kim was giving her a tour." Helford nodded, then asked, "Is that usual?"
"I know some people get taken down there, just to see the tunnel. They think it's exciting, smugglers and contraband and
all that stuff. But it's just a bricked out hole - " He stopped dead, a look of puzzlement creasing his forehead into a frown.
Helford waited, hoping that something important was dawning in this intelligent man's mind. He was not disappointed. Harry sat there staring over Helford's shoulder toward the window, his eyes narrowed, seeing nothing but the image in his mind's eye. Finally he made a decision.
"Inspector," he said slowly, "I may be wrong, but as far as I can remember, the tunnel finished at both sides in a rough sort of brick wall. Not completely sealed, but enough to stop anyone trying to explore. Now you saw what I saw down there - did it look to you like brick? It looked like breeze block to me."
Helford looked at his junior officer. "What do you think, Dean? Brick or breeze block?"
"I thought it was big greyish blocks, I don't think it was bricks."
"Yes, I thought so too. When did you last look in the tunnel, Mr Tanner?"
"Ages ago - must be eight, ten years ago. When we put up all that shelving for the old museum stuff. I had a look in there to see if anything had fallen down, and I wanted to use a bit of the space to put some of the tall items upright. The right-hand side went further in than the left. I didn't bother though, it was too dirty. Just propped things up against the wall out in the room."
"And it was a brick wall you saw then?"
"That's my recollection. I'm sure it was bricks all the way round. Why would anyone use breeze blocks on one side, and bricks everywhere else? Besides, the work was done so many years ago, they probably hadn't invented breeze blocks then."
Helford had a sick feeling that this investigation had just doubled in size. If there were breeze blocks where they shouldn't be, yet the body was in front of them, then what were the breeze blocks hiding?
There was a knock at the door. "Come in," called Helford. A young constable entered and handed him a piece of paper, then withdrew discreetly. The Inspector read the note, made a reasonable assumption, and considered his next move. He decided to exert his authority.
"Mr Tanner, it seems Mr Chewter's neighbours have not seen him in his customary routine today, and a local shopkeeper says he did not come in as usual this morning....now it's too early to be definite, but I think we must assume that you were right. The body is very likely to be Mr Chewter's. So I need to know everything you can tell me, now please," he finished firmly.
Harry looked even more unhappy, but he knew that his resistance had to end. He began to tell the Inspector of the thoroughly unpleasant Gerald Chewter. It was a sordid tale of a pompous, delusional man who had never had a girlfriend, never had a real friend of either sex, and had a manner that continually rubbed his colleagues up the wrong way.
Chewter had got the job of Parish Clerk in a rather rushed interview process after the sudden death of the previous incumbent. No other suitably qualified candidates had been available. After his appointment it had been only a few weeks before the complaints started in the office, but his work seemed satisfactory, so the Council members took little notice.
He knew how to say the right things to the Councillors, pretending to agree with first this party then that, and it was months into his contract before the first serious charge of sexual harassment was levelled at him. He denied misconduct, and the victim could not prove anything. She was so furious that she resigned, and in her bitterness she upset a few of the Councillors by sending them vitriolic emails. Chewter capitalised on this, and it was not until the repeat performance with Kim Coulthard that Chewter was suspected of lying the first time. Kim had handled the unpleasant complaints process with quiet dignity, and was believed - as is often the case with the second witness. Chewter played his last card - his sick mother. That saved him from too much public disgrace, and he had left the Council's employment three years after he arrived.
Helford listened, thought, and asked Dean to arrange for Ben to go home. Harry had told him enough, but Kim Coulthard no doubt had plenty more to say. He thanked Harry, and asked him if he could bring himself to take another look at the body with a view to a more positive identification. The breeze-blocks also needed another viewing. Harry Tanner reluctantly agreed, and back in the tunnel, with the aid of a powerful torch, he noticed a smart watch on the right wrist. It was a diver's watch, which Gerald Chewter had proudly shown off to anyone who would listen.
"I remember that watch," he told Helford. "We all thought it was a ridiculous waste of money, as he'd never been diving and probably never would."
"So you're sure it is him?" the Inspector pressed him.
"As sure as I can be, I had a look at the face - what there was of it. If it's not him, I'll be very surprised."
"And the breeze-blocks?"
"Definitely not the way I remember it. And not the work of any of our lads - a horrible job. Messy, obviously done in a hurry. I don't care if no-one sees your work, you should do a good job every time."
Harry was then allowed to go home, but insisted he should stay to lock up and set the alarm. He was gently reminded that there was activity in the basement that would mean an all-night vigil by officers from the local force. Harry gave in and went home. The Inspector wondered - could Harry Tanner be such a perfectionist that he only noticed the unprofessional workmanship in the tunnel, without realising the implications of such work existing?
Helford sent Dean back to the basement to alert the team working below of the breeze-block problem. When he returned, the two detectives sat in James's office for a while, jotting down their immediate impressions and lines of enquiry. Then, leaving a constable to guard their makeshift base, they went out into the summer evening to pay a visit to Mrs Coulthard.
In the car they threw a few more suggestions at each other. "The first woman Chewter harassed - she sounds promising, sir," Dean offered. "It's on the list, but I'm not hopeful," Helford replied. "She could have done anything in the last few years if she wanted to get back at Chewter - lure him somewhere and kill him, for instance. Why wait until now?"
"OK, what about this Fiona, the secretary? She'd have had to work for him, maybe he had a thing going with her, and then dumped her - recently?"
"Maybe lots of things, Dean. We'll have to look at everyone, everything. The only anomaly we have so far is the key - the Clerk says he never had one, Harry Tanner says he should. I mean to get to the bottom of that, for a start."
"Yes, maybe the Clerk knew Chewter before - no, I know, maybe Chewter found out something that the new Clerk was doing wrong - illegal - and threatened to shop him."
"Don't get too carried away, Dean. Theories are all very well, but of you get too obsessed with one idea you ignore other lines of enquiry. Method and thoroughness, remember."
"Yes, I know sir. But I did get the feeling that James Goswell was - how shall I put it - not what he seemed? I mean, I wouldn't employ him as the head of anything, he didn't seem to have a clue."
"Lucky for him you weren't on the interview panel, then....."