Chapter 10

Doreen’s Tale

“I was born nineteen thirty-seven, dear,” she said, in answer to the question. “I’m eighty-one,” she beamed, proudly.

Gandalph beamed back. “I find that difficult to believe, Doreen, honestly. I’d have said you look at least ten years younger.”

They both sipped their tea. “Well, I like to keep active. There’s bingo twice a week and, weather permitting, I go for a walk along the promenade with my two granddaughters every week,” she told him, solemnly. “And a little glass of sherry now and then helps,” she chuckled.

Gandalph refused the offer of a biscuit and got down to business.

“I believe you have some memories your grandmother passed onto you, about working for the Hillingdons in St Helens. Your daughter tells me something about a policeman visiting one night and there was something else about hearing an argument?”

“Yes, I don’t think she ever told my mother. It was late in her life and I was twelve. She died four years later. Do you know? I miss her still. She was such a lovely, kind person.”

He could see from her face, her eyes especially, it was a precious memory.  “You never spoke to your mother about what you were told?”

“No, I was sworn to silence,” she replied with a little impish, conspiratorial smile. “Granma said it was our little secret.”

He gave her a warm, understanding smile in return. “So, what did she tell you?”

What Doreen recounted was just as he’d read in Wilf’s book. She seemed blissfully unaware her grandmother had shared their ‘little secret’ with a St Helens author prior to her death in 1954. Gandalph didn’t tarnish their moment. But she had an interesting extra to add.

“Well, there was the day Lady Hillingdon and her daughter-in-law took themselves off to Manchester for a fitting, at Kendal and Milne I think she said. Sir Montague and young Mr Montague had a blazing row while they were away. Granma said she couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying but insisted she heard Sir Montague yelling, “You’ve done more than enough already. I will sort this mess out and you will do exactly what I tell you.”

“Were there any other servants there to hear this?” Gandalph queried.

“Oh no. Granma said whenever angry words were spoken in that house, they knew it was best to scuttle off to the kitchens and keep out of the way.”

“Why wasn’t she in the kitchens then?”

“She’d been coming down the main stairs, you see, and hadn’t realised they were in the library. Of course, she would have to pass it to get to the servants' area and she was frightened if she did they might suddenly come out and think she’d been listening on purpose, so she retraced her steps and took the back stairs.”

“Did she say if she spoke of this to any of the other staff, or they to her?”

She smiled benignly. “Oh, they knew better than to do that. Sir Montague had a foul temper, she said, and they all needed to keep their jobs. Granma told me if he ever dismissed anyone, he would also sack any members of their family working in his chemical factories.”

Gandalph exchanged a perceptive sad shake of the head and swiftly moved on. “Doreen, did your grandmother mention anything about rumours circulating regarding the family, young Montague perhaps?”

“No, but she did say she thought he’d done something very bad because she recognised the little girl, who’d arrived with PC Flitcroft, and knew she lived in the same street where a woman was murdered and she knew the dead woman used to work for the Hillingdons, but it was before her time. The woman had left under a cloud; word below stairs was she and Sir Montague had been having a ‘liaison’, as Granma put it. She also told me young Mr Montague and his wife were sent abroad shortly after the big row and didn’t return for almost three months. Granma thought he could have been involved in her death. That was her secret, you see – she’d once worked for a murderer.” She sipped her tea and smiled sweetly.

****

Thurstan greeted him with a “Kettle’s just boiled, help yourself” then sat down at the paper strewn desk and followed up with: “How did it go?”

From the kitchen, Gandalph called back, “Good. She basically confirmed what Doris Farmer said but added her grandmother had overheard a raging argument between the two men the day after, when the women were safely out of the way. She couldn’t hear what was being said apart from old man Hillingdon shouting more than enough had been done already and he’d sort everything out. For what it’s worth, I took it in statement form.”

When he came back to the office, he unzipped his document folder and handed the statement over. Then he sat down on the edge of his desk, sipped his tea and added, “I went across to the library on my way back. That microfiche lark’s good and the staff were very helpful. I was looking for something more from the local papers regarding the little girl, Edith Henthorn and I found this.” He handed over the photocopies of a news report concerning an annual local event.

Thurstan read it then summarised. “The chemical factory’s annual day out was paid for by Sir Montague Hillingdon. Little Edith loses her footing on the edge of the platform and falls in front of the incoming train.”

He quickly sipped his tea before continuing. “Tragic accident it seems ...” He ran his finger along the line. “Interesting ... this bit about people being distracted by three scruffy men fighting at the far end. One witness said, ‘the little girl may have been trying to step out from behind her mother to see the commotion and lost her footing on the platform edge’. Then there’s this other bit that says, ‘Detective Inspector Ridings was overseeing the orderly departure of the excited participants.” He read on. “Hmm, Ridings told the reporter he tried to grab her, but it was too late.” He put the papers down.

“There’s no statements in the file regarding these three men fighting, no descriptions, nothing. I know that for a fact, and why would Ridings be there? It’s a job for a sergeant and three bobbies at the very most. There’s nothing in the article about other police officers being there, whether uniformed or not. Had they been there, we might know who the men fighting were and what happened to them? Something’s not right. I mean, one Inspector in plainclothes. He’d be practically invisible.” He paused. “Maybe that was the point.”

Gandalph smiled, “That’s what I thought” then handed him another sheet. “This is the newspaper report of the inquest, Boss. Unfortunately, all the official records were destroyed in a fire.”

Silent whilst he read, Thurstan commented on finishing, “Conclusion, a tragic accident, death by misadventure. Ridings gave evidence to the coroner, as did several witnesses who only saw her falling. He claims he called out to her but there’s no mention of anyone hearing that, although one woman said she thought the Inspector tried to grab the girl but was too late.”

He took a mouthful of his tea. “Maybe I’m being unkind, but I think this might not have been an accident. The fight at the other end of the platform feels like a distraction to me. Add that to what we know of Ridings so far; his background, his sudden elevation to a Masonic lodge which normally wouldn’t have touched him with a barge pole and his rapid promotion to superintendent, you’d have to be suspicious. What was the real reason he was there? To frighten the girl and mother? Perhaps, it went wrong and he tried to save her. Maybe it went to plan?”

Gandalph searched his boss’s face for a hint of what was in his mind. “Do you think he pushed her, Boss?”

“It’s entirely possible, given the stakes. I’m pretty sure she was most probably the source of the rumours. The mother had to be aware Edith had seen something, how else could PC Flitcroft have obtained permission to take the girl to the Hillingdon’s place. She possibly confided in a friend or neighbour, and I don’t doubt they would have then passed such juicy information on. You know what these people are like.” He handed his reading material back. “Stick these in the file and see if Wilf will give you access to more of his archives. We need some more solid connections before I can write this one up.”