wrote it down on the back of Ruddock’s card.
“We’ll keep you in the picture.” said Eddington.
Detective Sergeant Eddington climbed out of his vehicle and advanced towards the rear of the house. He made his way to a large shed that was situated at the edge of the large back garden. He knew it was occupied because he could see a wisp of smoke coming from a bonfire near to it; there was a bicycle propped up against the wall.
As he approached the shed a man came out carrying a large flower pot in his hands, he spotted Eddington immediately, put the pot down, and advanced towards him, wiping his hands upon his trousers.
“Mornin’ Roger,” he called out and extended his hand, which Eddington shook warmly.
“Good morning, Walter,” Eddington replied. “Keeping busy, I see.”
“Guess so, I thought I’d keep the garden up to scratch, I owed that much to John.” responded Walter Rushden. “I like to keep busy, but I don’t know for how long now though, unless the new owner decides he wants a gardener.”
“Can’t answer that one,” said Eddington. “But I need some information from you, Walter, we’re making some enquiries.”
“Enquiries? What about?”
“Some things have been disappearing from the house.”
“What?”
Eddington repeated it, and Rushden looked apprehensive.
“Disappearing?” he said. “You mean burglary?”
“More or less,” answered Eddington. “But it looks like entry, non-forcible entry. It looks like petty theft, which indicates a local or inside job.”
“An inside … ! Look here Roger, if you think I’ve been going in and nickin’…! ”
“No, no no!” Eddington shook his head and raised his hands in a placatory fashion, though the thought had been in his mind, inasmuch as in his job one had to suspect everyone. Nevertheless, he had known Walter Rushden for many years and thought it highly unlikely.
“What’s been taken?”
“Don’t know for sure yet, but a few ornaments vanished from John’s old study, and it looked as if other items like chairs and linen, towels and the like had been readied for a later pick up.”
Rushden cast a glance at the house that was to his left, and grimaced. Then he looked at Eddington and his eyes narrowed.
“Are you askin’ me for an opinion?”
“No need to, Walt, I think we’re both thinking the same thing,” grunted Eddington. “Have you seen our friend around recently?”
“She was here a few days ago, when I arrived Tim Salmon’s old jalopy was parked in the driveway by the front door,” Rushden said thoughtfully. “They were both inside, the front door was open.”
“Did they see you?”
“Couldn’t miss me, I had the van with me that day because I had some fuel for the mower. As I passed in front of the house, following the driveway around the back, Tim came out so I jammed on the brakes to have a word. Now I think about it, he looked a bit shifty and didn’t seem too pleased to see me.”
“Then what?”
“We chatted, Tim wasn’t too keen to talk, but I was. I felt summat wasn’t right, especially as bloody Edna was hovering in the porch by the front door.”
“Bloody Edna…?” Eddington grinned. He didn’t need to be an expert detective to judge Rushden’s feelings regarding Mrs Salmon. “What happened after that?”
“I finished talking to Tim and I went around the back. I filled up the mower, did the back lawn which needed it, and then went home. When I drove out they’d gone.”
“This was when?”
“About …er…!” Rushden fingered his chin. “Reckon it was last Wednesday, late in the afternoon.”
Eddington consulted his clip board, and raised his eyebrows. According to a note he had written on it during the recent conversation with Ruddock, Mr Pelham’s firm had sent a messenger down to the village to collect the front door key, in fact any keys, from Mrs Salmon about a week prior to that.
“Whassup?”
“You say the front door was open?”
“Sure was, Tim was inside the hall and came out when I drove up, and she came out while I was talking to Tim. She was carrying some linen - she dropped it smartish like when she saw I was there, and made out she was dusting down the front door.”
“Hmmm!” Eddington made a note and put his clip board under his arm. “Thanks for your help, Walt, I’ll probably want to see you again.”
“You’re welcome,” said Rushden as he picked up the flower pots once more. “I’d like to know who’s been thieving because John deserved better than that after all the good he did for this village.”
Eddington walked back up the garden path to the house, and then swung around as a thought struck him.
“Walter!” he called out, and Rushden poked his head out from the shed. “What does Tim Salmon do for a living?”
“Bit of everything, local handyman I reckon.”
“Yes, but exactly what? Can you be more specific.”
“He does a bit of building, plumbing and painting. He recently laid a tiled floor for that Mrs Hetherington in the old manor house, did a fair job so I’ve heard.”
“Anything else?”
“Oh, plastering, bit of a locksmith as well.”
“Is he by God!” Eddington inclined his head thoughtfully. “OK, thanks Walter.”
Eddington decided to play it cool. He drove over to the Salmons’ house for which he had obtained the address from Fred Barratt, mine host at the Cromwell Arms, as Mrs Salmon also did some cleaning at the hotel. As he had said to Ruddock, he knew Tim Salmon slightly, he had seen him around the village occasionally when he, Eddington, had cause to make any enquiries around the area, which usually related to sheep worrying, the occasional burglary or investigating the scene of a motor accident. The last time he had been in the vicinity was when the cricket pavilion had suffered a series of break-ins, but from the cigarette ends, condoms and empty drink cans lying around it looked as if it had been children or teenagers using the building for illicit purposes.
Accordingly, he drove slowly up the road and paused outside the house, and cast his eyes over the frontage. The house stood back from the road, with a fair sized front garden which was well tended. He parked and alighted, paused to admire the rose garden just the other side of the hedge, then advanced to the gate. A dog tethered near the house started barking, and a woman wearing an apron came around the side of the house.
She was a stern looking woman, aged about 50,
