Bill and The Mary Ann Shaughnessy Read online

  ‘That you, Dyson?’ The question was uncertain as the newcomer didn’t expect to see one of his colleagues in his stockinged feet, minus his coat and helmet and dripping water.

  ‘O-h yes. Am I glad to see you!’

  ‘Who’s this?’ The torch picked up Sloper.

  ‘One of a nice little gang, I should say at a guess. There’s another one who’s been doing some shooting. He’s in the river. The dog’s looking after him.’

  ‘I didn’t know the dogs were out on this job.’

  ‘They’re not. He isn’t one of ours—but it wouldn’t be a bad thing to recruit him. But here, help me to get the cuffs on this one and then let’s get the boat back; she’s adrift in the river and there’s trouble aboard her.’

  ‘Which boat is that? There’s one lying up yon side of the house.’

  ‘It’s the boys’ boat, The Mary Ann Shaughnessy. They are both on her, drugged. This one here’—he nodded down to Sloper—‘was trying to gas them. Pike is aboard with them, and I’m not sure she isn’t leaking.’

  When they scrambled down the river bank there stood another policeman, his light showing up Mr Leech’s prostrate body. The man was sobbing aloud now and crying weakly between sobs, ‘Get him off! Get him off!’ But apparently Bill wasn’t going to be persuaded to leave go easily.

  Constable Dyson, bending over Bill, stroked his head gently while saying soothingly, ‘That’s enough, boy. That’s enough. Come on, let go. Come on now.’ He went as far as to grip Bill’s upper and lower jaws and ease his mouth from Mr Leech’s neck, but this done he had to hold him in check.

  Mr Leech lay still now, panting and shivering, and he made no protest when his hands were locked behind him and he was pulled to his feet.

  ‘Have you been in the house?’ asked Constable Dyson of the others.

  ‘The Inspector’s there with Taylor. They’ve caught two of them. Inspector sent us on here in the direction of the noise.’

  ‘Arthur!’ Police Constable Dyson now called across the river to where he could just discern the dark shape of the boat. ‘You all right?’

  ‘She’s stuck in the mud over on this side,’ Constable Pike shouted back.

  ‘Is she leaking, do you know?’

  ‘Not that I can see.’

  ‘Do you think you can start up the engine?’

  ‘That’s what I’m trying to do now. I couldn’t locate the petrol supply, but I’ve just found it.’

  ‘Good!’ called back Constable Dyson. Then turning to the other policeman, he said, ‘Will you take him’—he nodded down at Mr Leech—‘and his pal along to the house? And as soon as I get my shoes and coat on I’ll come along and report.’

  As the policeman pushed Mr Leech up the bank one of them said, ‘We should have been here long before this but the wooden bridge across the main dyke is broken. I felt her going and just stopped the car in time, else we’d all have been at the bottom. As it was we had a job to get across. We pulled the car off and left her at the other side. It was a good job I knew my way about the fens or we’d have been stranded.’

  ‘It was indeed,’ replied Constable Dyson. ‘This lot was prepared for all emergencies…except that…And the persistence of a bull terrier,’ he muttered to himself on a laugh.

  A few minutes later, when The Mary Ann Shaughnessy reached the bank, Constable Dyson had the rond anchors and ropes ready, and soon she was securely tied up. And now, boarding her, he looked down on the boys as he slipped off his shirt and got into his dry coat, the while thinking how lucky they were to be alive. Nor could he help smiling a little after the boys had been lifted to the bank as Bill squeezed himself between them and lay stretched out, licking their faces alternately.

  ‘He’s happy now,’ he said softly to Constable Pike, who replied thoughtfully, as he gazed down on the boys, ‘He’s about the same age as my Tony.’

  ‘Who? The dog?’

  ‘No, of course not. The young one here.’ And he bent over and stroked Malcolm’s hair from his face as he murmured, ‘They’ve been through something. Just take a look at the elder boy’s face; it’s had a battering. And his wrists, chafed to the bone one of them is…How did that lot think they would get away with it? I bet they reckoned on a verdict of misadventure on them when they were found gassed. Didn’t they realise that the marks on their bodies would have proved otherwise? Those blokes always slip up somewhere.’

  ‘Will you be all right until I go and report?’ said Constable Dyson now.

  ‘Yes, but make it slippy; these kids need seeing to. And we’d better get this dog to a vet, too, fairly quickly.’

  When Constable Dyson reached the house the Inspector greeted him with, ‘Well, a busy night, Dyson.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ replied the constable. ‘And sir; the boys on the boat, they’re in need of attention.’

  ‘Well,’ remarked the Inspector crisply, ‘they are not the only ones. Take a look in there. He pointed to the door. ‘Mind, there’s two steps down.’

  Constable Dyson went into the room, and through the light of the solitary candle his eyes were immediately drawn to a policeman kneeling on the wet floor supporting the bloodstained body of a young boy; then after a moment he lifted his gaze to a man sitting on a burst sack of wheat dazedly rubbing a hand up and down his arm. Following this, his attention was brought to the far corner of the room where two men sat, their identity made clear by the handcuffs that linked them together, and standing next to them, supporting themselves against the wall, were Mr Leech and Sloper.

  The Inspector came into the room now and, standing over the policeman who was holding Joe, asked, ‘How is he?’

  ‘Pretty bad, I should say, sir. No sign of him coming to. The bullet must have gone straight through his shoulder. And he’s very feverish.’

  ‘He’s been like that for some time.’ Mr Williams’s voice sounded slow and tired, and it trailed away as he ended, ‘He was a plucky nipper; never met a better.’

  The Inspector nodded slowly. Then turning to Constable Dyson, he asked, ‘What’s wrong with the other two boys?’

  ‘I think they’ve been drugged, sir. And the big fellow there was in the process of putting the finishing touches to them with calor gas. We were just in time.’

  The Inspector walked across the room and stood before Sloper and Mr Leech, and after surveying them for a moment he addressed himself to Mr Leech, saying, ‘Somehow I had an idea we would meet up again, Mr Leech. You just stepped over yourself, didn’t you, when you got the idea of leaving that letter on the bank. You see, I had combed that bank myself not an hour before. I make a hobby of walking along river banks, and you nearly always find something, but I found nothing that day.’

  Mr Leech glared at the Inspector before saying, ‘You’ll have a lot to prove.’

  ‘Huh!’ The Inspector made a sound like a laugh. ‘We’ve got enough on you already to put you away for a long, long rest…and we haven’t been over your boat yet.’ Then, his voice changing, he said thickly, ‘You’re a dirty swine to take it out on youngsters like this, but you’ll pay for it…Mr Leech. Or is the name Bradford? And it used to be accompanied by a beard at one time…You know something, Mr Clever-sides? You can alter your face and even your voice, but there are certain turns of manner and speech that stick in the mind. Remember that for the far future when you are coming out next time and taking up another guise.’

  Mr Leech said nothing to this, but as he ground his teeth together his jawbones moved against the skin of his face which no longer looked suave. The Inspector turned from him as Constable Dyson said, ‘How are we going to get them all down the river, sir? You can’t get an ambulance up here.’

  ‘How many are there?’ The Inspector began to count. ‘Three, four…and our four gentlemen friends, that makes eight. Myself, Taylor there, you and the other two outside, thirteen altogether. Do you think that boat could take the weight to the bottom of the river?’

  ‘I think she might just, sir. She’s a sturdy litt
le craft. She’s got a bullet hole in her about three inches above the watermark, but we could keep the pump going all the way…But why not take the big one, sir…their boat?’ He jerked his head.

  ‘No,’ said the Inspector definitely. ‘I don’t want her touched till daylight. If my guess is right we’ll be having some important visitors looking over her, and they’ll be making some surprising discoveries…Which reminds me, I’d better leave Taylor and Hockley on board her just in case these gentlemen have any friends in the vicinity, and that will lighten the burden on the boat. She’ll manage eleven all right, I suppose?’

  ‘Twelve with the dog,’ said Constable Dyson smiling.

  ‘The dog? Oh yes,’ said the Inspector. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘He’s on the bank, sir, and he’s in a bad way too. Parts of his ear and tail missing. He was no beauty to begin with and this won’t improve him any, but he’s the gamest beast I’ve ever come across. If it hadn’t been for him…well, I don’t mind saying that I think our main prize would have given us the slip, sir. That dog hung on to him until he wore him down.’

  ‘Pity dogs don’t appreciate medals,’ said the Inspector, then added briskly, ‘Come on, let’s get them aboard. Carry the boy gently, Taylor. And you see to Mr Williams, Dyson. And I myself will escort our friends. Get moving!’ He now barked at Mr Leech and his gang. ‘And fast! And take a good look at what you can see of the wide open spaces, because it will have to last you a long, long time.’

  It was a strange cavalcade that made its way along the high bank and down to The Mary Ann Shaughnessy. And when they boarded the boat they laid Joe gently on the single bunk, after which they bundled the prisoners into the cockpit. The Inspector came aboard last, leaving the two policemen on the bank to push them off and to carry out his order of remaining with The Night Star.

  And so, lying low in the water, her old engine working violently against the unaccustomed load, The Mary Ann Shaughnessy went down the river again, and only one member of her original crew was aware of it, but only just aware, for he was very tired. Bill had never felt so tired in his life before, yet he knew he mustn’t sleep yet, not until the scent that emanated from the bows was separated entirely from the scent of his three sleeping companions.

  Half an hour later the ambulance men were careful not to step on the sleeping bull terrier lying on the floor of the ambulance.

  Nine

  ‘Look,’ cried Mr Crawford. ‘If that animal is going to the Town Hall you can count me out.’

  ‘Oh, Father!’ Malcolm, Lorna and Jessica all made this exclamation together.

  ‘Never mind “Oh Father!”’ Mr Crawford tugged violently at his waistcoat, adding, ‘And that’s my last word on the subject.’ He now turned his head towards Jonathan, where he was standing at the side of the chair in which Joe was sitting, his arm in a sling, and nodding his head from one to the other he added, ‘And silence isn’t going to break me down either.’ Then, swinging round and looking at his wife, who sat with her back to him looking out of the French windows into the garden, he made yet another addition by saying, ‘Nor condemnation of any kind.’

  ‘Who’s condemning you?’ Mrs Crawford turned and faced her husband, her voice light and airy. I’m in entire agreement with you. After that scene in the court anything could happen anywhere.’

  ‘Yes, yes, that’s what I mean. See?’ Mr Crawford’s tone was slightly modified now and, turning to his family again, he said, ‘There you are then. As your mother says, anything could happen anywhere when that fellow’s around. As I told you he’s lucky to be here at all, and if it wasn’t for all the flip-flap there was in the papers about him, that judge would have ordered him to be destroyed.’

  ‘He couldn’t,’ Malcolm muttered under his breath, his eyes cast down.

  ‘What!’ exclaimed Mr Crawford.

  ‘Well, he couldn’t,’ said Malcolm boldly now. ‘Because he would have looked silly. The very fact that he hardly broke the skin of either Sloper or Mr Leech, and he hated them like poison, proved he wasn’t out to hurt the postman, whom he quite liked…when he didn’t wave a stick about.’

  ‘That kind of reasoning is all very well,’ said Mr Crawford sternly. ‘But you forget one thing. People may not die from dog bites, but they can quite easily die from fright, and I’m telling you for nothing. I myself wouldn’t feel the same again if that fellow got his teeth into me…and didn’t even break the skin.’

  ‘I wish I’d been there…I mean in the court.’

  All eyes were turned on Joe now.

  Joe looked smaller than usual, even thinner than usual, and much paler. A narrow escape from pneumonia and the loss of blood from the bullet wound had taken it out of him. But after three weeks, what everybody noticed most was a lack of his natural exuberance. The boys had tried their best, with the assistance of the girls, to bring back his old verve. They had talked about their adventure, they had tried to get him to bask in the publicity, but up to date it had been in vain. But now they sensed a spark of interest in his wish to have been present when Bill, after being on trial for his life so to speak, had, a short while after his reprieve, and in the very corridor of the court, once again exhibited his flare for ‘hanging on’.

  It had taken some time to convince the gentleman who had been waving his stick of the reason why Bill objected to such behaviour. Again it was only the fact that the whole town, indeed the whole country, was on Bill’s side that had averted yet another court case. As the Chief Constable was kind enough to point out to the gentleman, Bill was, as had been acclaimed, the rightful hero in the Leech case, for Mr Leech had been playing on the public for years, successfully changing his identity when he got into a tight corner. Had it not been for the bull terrier, he said to the shaken man, it was quite within the cards that Mr Leech would have managed once again to bring off a coup; the biggest of his career this time, as the bilges and hold of The Night Star had shown, for there had been found in them the contents of two safes and three bank robberies, the money and jewels all destined for Mr Leech’s other house in Spain. And, as the Chief Constable went on to ask, what was the hero of this affair getting out of it? An extra half pound of cooked steak a day—he wouldn’t touch raw steak—but did that compensate him for the loss of half his ear and the end of his tail?

  The gentleman, resigned but not soothed, had unwillingly let the matter drop, for as he said, ‘If the police are against you, who is for you?’

  Bill himself was very grateful for his extra rations. He had, just five minutes ago, finished a nice hunk of cooked lean steak, not a bit of fat to be seen anywhere on it, and he now felt at peace with the world. Life was good; it never had been better; everybody was wonderful to him, except the old man, and he would come round, he always did. He understood quite well that he had to put on a show in the house and make his position felt, but during term time when he had to take him out for his own constitutional—he was apt to run to fat as big men usually did—they got along very well.

  From where he was lying at Joe’s feet he suddenly turned on his back and lay with his four legs sticking straight up in the air. This action, coming on top of Mr Crawford’s tirade, caused a howl of laughter and Malcolm exclaimed, ‘He’s laughing at you, Father.’

  ‘That won’t do him much good, or anyone else,’ said Mr Crawford significantly as he made for the door. ‘Well now, I’m going to get ready and I suggest you all do the same…for mind…’ He turned about and wagged his finger at them all. ‘I’m not hanging round and waiting for any of you. Half past two the presentation is and we leave here at two o’clock on the dot. Now remember.’

  ‘You have been warned.’

  ‘What did you say?’ Mr Crawford turned sharply once again, and Jonathan, shaking his head, said, ‘Nothing, Father.’

  When the door closed behind Mr Crawford they all started to laugh, but softly. Then, the laughter subsiding, Malcolm exclaimed dolefully, ‘It’s a shame. He’s got a right to be there. We are getting all the
glory and all that money and he’s getting nothing.’ Looking across at Jonathan and Joe now, he said seriously, ‘It is a lot of money, isn’t it? Can you believe we are really getting it?’

  Both Jonathan and Joe shook their heads, and Jonathan thought no, he couldn’t believe they were going to share ten thousand pounds, this being the total of the rewards from the insurance companies and the two banks.

  There had been some argument at first as to the distribution of the money, Jonathan and Malcolm insisting that Joe take half of the rewards on the basis that if it hadn’t been for him they wouldn’t have known anything about Mr Leech. But Joe had said, share and share alike, pointing out the blatant fact that only because Bill was so tenacious was he alive today, were they all alive today.

  So Joe had his way, but one thing they all agreed on, Mr Williams was to have a substantial present, as also was the man who had found Bill on the fens.

  Malcolm, voicing the miracle of their survival, said now, ‘Doesn’t Father realise that we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him?…And we wouldn’t, old boy.’ He knelt on the rug beside Bill and scratched his tummy. Looking up now towards Jonathan, he said, ‘We should do something.’

  ‘He says he can’t go, and that’s that,’ said Jonathan.

  ‘Mother!’ Malcolm scrambled to his feet and went towards Mrs Crawford. ‘Can’t you do something?’

  ‘Only put him in the summer house.’

  ‘That isn’t what I mean, and you know it.’ He shook his head vigorously. ‘He’s forbidden us, but you, you could get away with it; he’s said nothing to you.’