No, sir, the Father Brown story said Novello, flustered into the error of explanation.
Father Brown? I thought you were one of Father Kerrigans flock. Not been head-hunted, have you?
Time for a rescue act.
Pascoe said, Shirley was just trying out an idea on us, sir. And very interesting it was, too. But lets make a start on what weve got first, shall we?
He gave Dalziel a digest of Novellos findings. The Fat Man was dismissive.
A blue estate, speeding? Overtake their tractor, bloody farmers think youre speeding. And if he wants to get away so quick, whats he stop up the hill for? And this white Saab, right out in the open, werent it? At the edge of the common for all to see. Not what youd call furtive, is it?
The Discovery was quite well hidden, said Pascoe.
Except for anyone walking their dog past it, said Dalziel. Told you it ud be a four-wheel drive last night, didnt I?
I think, to be strictly accurate, I told you that, said Pascoe, thinking, he doesnt want to be bothered with any of this. His minds fixated on Benny bloody Lightfoot. But we do have a list of names and were going to need to check them
Aye, aye, shove up the overtime bill, said Dalziel gloomily. Desperate Dans going to love me.
This from one to whom police budgets and the affection of his Chief Constable were matters of equal indifference rang false as a politicians indignation.
One in there might interest you, sir, said Wield.
He jabbed his finger at the bottom of the sheet. Pascoe looked over the Fat Mans shoulder.
Walter Wulfstan.
That name again. Pascoes eyes strayed to the poster still visible on one of the few parts of the notice board not yet covered up by constabulary paper.
The opening concert of the Mid-Yorkshire Dales Music Festival, Elizabeth Wulfstan singing Kindertotenlieder. Songs for Dead Children. Not the most diplomatic of programmes for this place at this time.
It occurred to him that this place was literally this place. Had anyone told the Festival people that their opening venue had been commandeered?
Observing Dalziel for the second time in two days apparently rapt at the appearance of this name from the past, Pascoe voiced his concern to Wield.
The secretary of the Parish Council was round first thing this morning, the sergeant said. I told him he could certainly cancel everything this week. Next week, wed have to wait and see.
He wouldnt be pleased.
Oddly enough, his words were, Mr Wulfstan wouldnt be pleased. Seems hes chair of the Music Festival committee.
He wouldnt be pleased.
Oddly enough, his words were, Mr Wulfstan wouldnt be pleased. Seems hes chair of the Music Festival committee.
Hes back at that again, is he? said Dalziel, who never let rapture obstruct eavesdropping.
Back? said Pascoe.
He dropped out of Yorkshire after Dendale. Seemed to uproot himself completely. Sold up his house in town, handed over the on-site running of the business to his partners, and set himself up down south as their international sales manager, running across Europe, oiling the wheels, that sort of thing. Speaks good Frog and Kraut, they say. Must have done all right. Seven, eight years back, the company needs more space and builds on a greenfield site outside Danby. That was the start of yon Science and Business Park thing. Lots of Euro-lolly, they say, most of it down to Wulfstan. And eventually he moves back to town. Bought a house in the bell. Holyclerk Street.
In the bell referred to the top price area round the cathedral.
Very nice, said Pascoe.
Keep doing the Lottery, said Dalziel. Ivor, get on the phone to Wulfstans firm at the Business Park, will you? See if hes there. If he is, Ill just pop round and have a word.
There are other names on the list, sir, said Pascoe.
Nay, itll be his, said Dalziel dismissively. Whats up, lass? Tha does know how to work a phone?
Novello, who hadnt moved, said, Whats the firms name, sir?
Oh aye. Summat weird. Helioponics, thats it. Helioponics. You need six O-levels to know what it means.
Sounds to me like a nonce word, by analogy with hydroponics, said Pascoe.
Nonce, eh? Well, them perverts do have a language of their own.
Wield came in before this could get silly and said, I think they started off making domestic solar panels, but now theyre into all kinds of alternative energy sources and applications.
My God, Wieldy, you got shares, or what?
Wield looked blank, which was easy. In fact it was Edwin who had Helioponic shares. Financial openness was part of their unwritten partnership agreement. If you know how poor I am, Digweed had said, you will not be forever expecting me to pay half of all those expensive foreign holidays your crooked friends doubtless subsidize for you in their Bermudan villas.
Sir, said Novello from the phone. Mr Wulfstan was at the Park, but hes just headed back to town. Seems hes had to call an emergency committee meeting, something about the Music Festival needing a new location?
Must be mellowing, said Dalziel. In the old days hed have come round here and given us all a rollocking. Right, thats me. Im off to put myself on Any Other Business. Pete, what are you up to?
I need to see Clark. He might have a line on the spray-can artist.
Oh aye? Well, hes up the dale with Maggie Burroughs. Ive just been up there. Shes got the search well organized, so try not to give the impression youre double-checking her. I know how heavy-footed you can be. Wieldy, you keep things steady here till George Headingley shows his ugly face, then see if you can find something useful to do. That everything?
Sir, shall I stick with these car sightings? Ive got a couple of ideas, said Novello.
Ideas? Nice young lass like you shouldnt be having ideas, said Dalziel. Nay, theyll keep. Thats why red herrings are red, to preserve them. Anyone talked to the kiddies in Lorraines class yet?
Not yet, said Wield. Mrs Shimmings wanted to get the school routine going first.
I doubt if therell be owt there, but someone had better do it. Thats the job for you, Ivor. Off you go, chop chop.
Novello turned swiftly and moved away through the door before her resentment could show.
She did well, Pascoe observed neutrally.
She did her job, growled Dalziel.
Pascoe glanced at Wield, who rubbed his chin.
Jesus wept, said the Fat Man.
He went to an open window and bellowed, Ivor!
The woman turned.
You did well, shouted Dalziel.
Then, turning back to face the others, he said, There. Cant bear the thought of having you two looking at me all day like Id drowned your kitten. Now can we all go off and do what we get paid to do, or would you like a big wet kiss from mother to help you on your way?
FIVE
Rosie Pascoe was having a bad day at school.
Shed looked for Zandra as soon as she got into the yard, but she was nowhere to be found, and Miss Turner, their class teacher, told her that Mrs Purlingstone had phoned to say that Zandra was poorly and wouldnt be coming in.
At least that had meant she was able to hold the floor alone with her tales of treats and adventures at the seaside. But by playtime, as the heat of the day built up, she found her usual energy lacking and was content to stand aside from the intricate whirl of playground games.
All the voices seemed distant, like the TV with the sound turned low, and the playing children moved before her like figures on that small screen. It wasnt an unpleasant sensation, this distancing. Indeed it was the kind of mood in which she usually most easily made contact with her friend Nina. But there was no sign of her today, and then she remembered that Nina had been taken by the nix again and was probably still being held captive in his cave.
Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed a figure beyond the high wire mesh which bounded the playground. Her heart full of hope she went towards it. The bright sunlight dazzled her, in fact shed been irritated by bright light all day, and she couldnt see clearly, but as she got close she knew it wasnt Nina, and when she blinked she found there was no one there at all, and she was left clinging to the mesh like a marmoset in a cage.
Someone touched her shoulder and she turned quickly.
It was Miss Turner. She was a small woman, a lot shorter than Mummy, but somehow today she seemed to loom very high.
Plays over, Rosie, she said in a voice with the same distant, unreal quality. Its time to come inside.
Some miles to the north, Shirley Novello was having a bad time in school too. She didnt mind kids, but she wasnt mad about them. And she did mind the assumption that her gender automatically meant she was the best person to talk to Lorraines classmates, particularly when she felt she was doing an OK job on the car enquiry. But she had more sense than to complain, not in the middle of a missing child case. Here, if you were told it would help to wrestle in mud, you wrestled in mud.
Not that there was much chance of finding any mud to wrestle in. All the windows of the school were wide open, but a feather resting on a sill had as much chance of moving as on a dead mans lips.
The children were lethargic, partly because of the heat, partly because the initial charge of excitement at the police presence had faded, leaving them increasingly aware of the reason for it. Mrs Shimmings and Miss Blake, the class teacher, did their best to divert and distract, but they too were weighed down by their more specific fears for their lost pupil and, despite their best efforts, some of this filtered through.
Very little was forthcoming. Some of Lorraines friends said that Lorraine had a secret place up Ligg Beck, but when pressed as to its whereabouts, they looked at Novello like she was brain dead and said, We dont know. It was a secret! Finally she pushed too hard and provoked a squall of sobbing from one girl which quickly spread to others, and the interview was over.
Very little was forthcoming. Some of Lorraines friends said that Lorraine had a secret place up Ligg Beck, but when pressed as to its whereabouts, they looked at Novello like she was brain dead and said, We dont know. It was a secret! Finally she pushed too hard and provoked a squall of sobbing from one girl which quickly spread to others, and the interview was over.