The Broken Man Part 7

Edward Carter saw the policeman approaching, and, speaking in his finest voice, he cunningly made his way towards him.

'Good morning, officer. I wonder if you might be able to help me?'

Surprised by this untidy man's refined voice and manner, the policeman replied in a friendly but authoritative tone, 'If I can help you, I will, but it's not wise to be loitering about these back alleys. It tends to make people nervous, and that makes me nervous.'

'Of course. I do understand, but I'm looking for an old friend ... a woman by the name of Anne Carter. When she moved away from her previous address, she gave me the street and town, but forgot to write down the number of her aunt's house ... that's where she's staying.'

He began to rummage in his pocket. 'I can show you what she wrote ... Roff Avenue, Bedford. I promised to visit when I was able. The thing is, her old aunt Ada doesn't have a telephone, doesn't like them, so I'm told.' He gave a warm smile.

The policeman nodded. 'I know a lot of people who seem a bit timid of the idea. I expect they're used to going down to the red box outside. My mother's exactly the same ... won't even hear of a telephone in the house.'

Still putting on a show, Carter pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, feigning a groan when he read it. 'Oh, wrong one. Sorry, officer. It must be in my inside pocket ...' He made a big fuss of digging about in his pockets.

The policeman accepted his story hook, line and sinker. 'Look, I understand. I'm afraid I can't help you, but I tell you what ' he pointed back down the alley 'go back the same way you came in, and turn left. You'll see a pub on the corner. The landlord's always up and working, and there's an old fella keeps the place spick and span. Like as not he might know where your friend is living, especially if there's an old aunt, because the old 'uns do have a communal spirit round these parts.'

'Well, thank you very much, officer. I was about to go and knock on a couple of doors, but I'll have a word at the pub instead.'

'I'm sure that's the thing to do, because you won't find her wandering about in the back alleys, will you?'

'No, you're right. I don't suppose I will.'

'The pub isn't open yet but if you knock on the door, the landlord or his wife will be sure to hear you. Ted and Mary have lived round these parts for some time, so they know the locals better than anybody.' The policeman gave a knowing little smile. 'Oh, and you might even find a few old codgers playing darts in the corner, enjoying a crafty pint out of hours. They think we're not on to them yet, but sometimes we find it wiser to look the other way ... but don't tell anyone I said that.'

Satisfied that there was nothing to worry about here, he continued on his beat, thinking what an odd sort the stranger was. He found it hard to reconcile the fact that the man was dressed little better than a tramp, while possessing the confident, refined voice of a gentleman. It looked like he'd come on hard times. No doubt he was hoping for a few days' lodgings and a cash handout from his old friend. The policeman did not approve of scrounging, and he thought the stranger should be ashamed, especially when it seemed there appeared to be no reason for him not to hold down a job of sorts.

Pausing outside the public house, Edward Carter took a moment to run his fingers through his thick dark hair and briefly brush a hand over his clothes. Best make a good impression, he thought, or they might not be so ready to reveal what they know.

The constable was right. The first thing he saw as he gingerly entered the public house was a group of aged men seated round a table in the corner. They were engrossed in a game of dominoes, and each man had a pint of brown ale before him.

As the door closed behind him, everyone looked up to see who it was. n.o.body spoke. Instead, once they had taken stock of him, they resumed their game.

Carter slowly walked past their table. 'Morning. Nice day.' He nodded to each and every one, and they nodded back, curious to know who this weary-looking stranger might be.

'If it's beer you're after, you'll not get it here, at least not till opening time.' The bulbous, whiskered landlord cast a wary glance to the table where the men were now paying attention. 'Oh, and before you go making a.s.sumptions, these are friends of mine,' he added warily, 'a private party.'

Carter smiled. 'You've no need to worry about me. I haven't seen a thing,' he a.s.sured the landlord. 'To tell the truth I'm not here for a pint, though I wouldn't say no, especially as I've travelled a long journey to get here.'

'I see. And what is it you want from me?'

'I'm looking for someone. I just thought you might be able to help. I expect you know most people round here?'

The landlord seemed reluctant to answer. 'Maybe I do know a few people, yes, but I'm not the sort to get caught up in gossip. From my experience, poking your nose in other folks' business can get you in a heap o' trouble.'

'That's all right by me, because I'm not the sort to gossip either.' Carter was careful to choose his words. 'The thing is, I'm searching for an old relative.'

'Oh?' The landlord remained cautious.

Carter gave a sad little smile. 'The thing is, when I was sixteen, things got really uncomfortable at home between my parents. Then, when they went their separate ways, Ada took me in.'

The landlord made no response.

Carter continued, 'Ada had a nice, roomy house in Hamps.h.i.+re. I lived with her until I was twenty-one, and then I needed to get out and see the big wide world.'

'Wanted to spread your wings, eh?' The landlord was growing curious.

'I suppose that was it, yes. But my relative didn't want me to leave, so we had a bit of an argument before I left. After I'd gone, I wrote often, but she never answered. Then I was told she'd moved here to Bedford. The sad thing is, she was like a mother to me, so when I heard she was ill, I was determined to find her. I've always regretted us falling out.'

He lowered his voice to a sorry murmur. 'She's quite old now, and I just need to put things right between us ... before it's too late. If you know what I mean?'

Being a family man himself, the landlord approved of his motive. 'So, if you know where she is, what's stopping you from "putting things right" between you?'

'Because after she moved, I never got her full address. All I was told, was that she'd moved to Bedford ... Roff Avenue, they thought. I just arrived here this morning and a policeman suggested that I should ask you. He said you might know.'

'What did you say her name was again?' the landlord asked.

'Ada ... Ada Wyman.'

'Mmm.' He gave it some thought. 'And she's of an age, you say?'

'That's right. I never knew her actual age you know what women are like about telling but she must be in her late seventies by now.'

The landlord scratched his head and called for his wife, who was busy was.h.i.+ng pots. 'Mary!' his voice rang out. 'Have you a minute?'

'No!'

He raised his voice, 'There's a fella here who's looking for his relative, a woman by the name of Ada Wyman, in her seventies!'

'I don't know any Ada!'

Blowing out his cheeks in exasperation, he apologized, 'I'm sorry. We mostly only know the folk who frequent my pub. Does she have a husband?'

'As far as I know, she never married.' Carter cunningly played his most precious card. 'She might have a niece staying with her, though. Her name is Anne Carter ... she's in her early thirties. She and Aunt Ada were very close. I was told that Ada was really ill, so her niece might well be taking care of her.'

'I see. And what does she look like, this niece?'

Before he could reply, a voice from across the room called out, 'I know that young lady. Quiet little thing, she is; wild, fair hair and really pretty. Keeps herself to herself, she does. But if you happen to pa.s.s her in the street, she always lights up your day with her bright smile.'

Carter could not believe his luck. 'That sounds like her all right!'

The old fellow who'd spoken beckoned him to the table, where they sat together while the other men listened in, waiting to add their own small pieces of information.

'I'm sorry to tell you, but your relative Ada pa.s.sed away some years back,' one old, slightly deaf fellow b.u.t.ted in. 'Like you say, the girl did look after her aunt. Did everything for her, she did. She even took her out in the wheelchair most days. You're right, they were very close.'

'That's right!' the little man in the corner who'd first spoken said. 'The old dear was so thankful to have the girl with her, she left her the house, lock stock and barrel.'

'Really?' Carter was so flushed with this discovery, he could hardly sit still. 'Would she be at home now, d'you think?' Carter suppressed his excitement, while feigning the sad expression of a bereaved relation.

'Oh, but you may well have the wrong name for the niece, because this one goes by the same name as her aunt Wyman. Not Carter ... Anne Wyman. At least that's how she introduced herself to the post mistress,' said the little man.

Though burning with rage at that unfortunate snippet of information, Carter managed to keep his cool. 'Ah, yes, well, as I recall now, she was indeed a Wyman.'

'Oh, and it's no use you going along there just now because she'll not be back from work just yet.' This further disappointing comment came from a new source. 'Best to leave it till later, I reckon.'

Carter grudgingly thanked the men. Though quietly satisfied with the information he had gathered, he was in a murderous mood. The knowledge that Anne had callously discarded his name while still being married to him was hard to take.

'I wonder if the landlord would mind me having a pint of beer alongside you kind folk?' He needed to keep their confidence. 'You seem to know a lot about my family. It might be nice to sit and chat awhile.'

He was eager to know everything about his runaway wife. Where did she work? How long had her aunt been gone? Did she have a relations.h.i.+p? What was the house worth?

It was beginning to look like he'd fallen on his feet. His bad mood lifted and he had to stop himself from laughing out loud. This morning he was beginning to wonder if he might ever find the woman who was still his legal wife. And now not only had he found his wife, but he'd stumbled across a fine property. As her husband he surely had certain legal rights ...

He was n.o.body's fool. He knew that if he played his cards right, he could have it all.

CHAPTER FIVE.

'HANG ON! I'M on my way!'

Hopping along the pa.s.sageway with one high heel on and one in her hand, Sally cursed under her breath, 'Stop pipping that d.a.m.ned hooter. You'll have the neighbours out!'

Slinging her shoulder bag round her neck, she flung open the front door and locked it behind her. She then slipped her foot into the shoe, dropped the key into her pocket and ran down the path.

Seeing her friend make her way down the path, Anne leaned over and threw the pa.s.senger door open. 'What did you say?'

'Oh, now suddenly you've gone deaf, have you?' Red-faced from hurrying, Sally clambered into the car. 'Well, I can't say I'm surprised, what with all the noise you've been making. Old Mother Benton next door threw a bucket of water over the ice-cream man, just for ringing his bell. So I reckon she must be out just now, because with the racket you created, she'd have been charging at you with the hose-pipe!'

Anne laughed. 'In that case I'm glad she's out. I'm just excited, that's all. It's been ages since we went to the seaside, and now that we're actually on our way, I can't wait to get there.'

In truth, she had felt oddly uneasy these past few days, and the idea of getting away from Bedford, if only for a day, had eased her mind.

As they drove off, Sally took a sneaky look at her. 'Are you all right?' She had noticed how tired Anne looked, and how every now and then she would nervously glance in her driver's mirror. 'Anne?'

Anne was too deep in thought to hear her name being called.

'Anne!'

Anne gave a little gasp. 'Oh, sorry ... what?'

'You seem to be miles away. Tell the truth ... have you changed your mind? Would you rather not go to the seaside? It's a long drive, and I know you're not too keen on driving long distances.'

'No, I'm fine, honestly. I'm really looking forward to a day at Yarmouth. I was just thinking, that's all.'

'About what?'

'Nothing in particular.'

'I'll drive, if that's what worries you?'

'No, like I said, I'm absolutely fine. I just didn't sleep too well last night.'

'Why not?'

Anne gave a little shrug. 'Dunno ... overtired, I suppose.' She had never told anyone the truth of her past, not even the lovely Sally. She still believed that keeping quiet was the right decision, because that way she had a better chance of putting the horror behind her.

So far, that particular plan was not working.

Sally's voice gentled into her thoughts. 'OK. Well, when we get to Yarmouth, you can park the car and we won't go anywhere near it again until it's time to come home. In fact, if you want to, we could lie on the beach all day, and do nothing.'

Anne laughed out loud at that suggestion. 'Huh! I can see you lying on the beach doing nothing. You'd be bored out of your mind.'

'I expect I would, but if it's what you want ...?'

'It isn't.'

'There you are then! And besides, where's the fun in "doing nothing"? And what's the point in going to the seaside and not trying the rides, or eating candy floss? Or having a go at winning some money in the amus.e.m.e.nt arcade? And what if we meet up with a couple of good-looking fellas who might want us to be with them for the day?'

'And you a happily married woman! No, thanks all the same ... about the fellas, I mean.'

'Hmm! So are you saying that if some gorgeous bloke made a pa.s.s at you, you would actually turn him down?' She gave a knowing little grin. 'I don't believe that for one minute.'

'Well, you'd better believe it,' her tone darkened, 'because I'm off fellas for good!'

Sally was saddened by Anne's remark, and surprised by the angry manner in which she had said it.

She had to ask. 'Anne?'

'Yes?'

'What's wrong?'

'What d'you mean?'

'I'm not really sure, but you seem to be in a strange mood. Going to Yarmouth was your suggestion, and now you don't seem so sure. Just now, you decided to wake the whole street by honking your car horn, and then you go all quiet on me, like something's playing on your mind. And just now, when you said you were off fellas for good, why is that?'

'Forget about it. I suppose I'm just not ready for settling down, that's all.' She hoped that would be the end to Sally's questions.

'But you sounded angry ... as though you'd had a bad experience.'

Unaware that she had touched a raw nerve, Sally went merrily on, 'Most women look forward to a happy marriage, and children.'

Anne regretted having made that controversial statement. 'I'm sorry if you thought I was angry, because I wasn't.' She gave a little shrug. 'It's like my head's all over the place at the minute. I don't really know what I want, that's the trouble.'