Read Online The Blood-Dimmed Tide by Rennie Airth - Free Book Online
Authors: Rennie Airth
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found a bunch of rose hips and old man’s beard bound in a willow branch lying on the grass outside the gate at the foot of the orchard. He’d been somewhat put out to discover, in addition, a crude design scratched on the green paint of the wooden gate – it showed a cross with a circle round it – and had been for taking a brush and a tin of paint down and repairing the damage, until Helen had stopped him. ‘Let it stay there,’ she’d decreed.
Madden had found the tramp’s gesture mystifying until his wife explained it to him.
‘He’s lying low,’ she said. ‘He knows the police will be looking for him again. They should have hung on to him while they had the chance.’
‘Yes, but since he was here, why didn’t he come in and see you?’
‘Because then we would have had to decide what to do – whether to inform the police or not – and he didn’t want to put us in that position. Mrs Beck was right. He’s a proper gentleman, my Topper. But I do worry about him. He’s getting too old to be wandering about.’
Boyce, meanwhile, had turned his attention to Madden. ‘To get back to what I was saying, John – the girl’s injuries aside, do you think there’s something unusual about this killing?’
Listening to the Surrey policeman, Helen felt a twinge of unease. Well aware of the regard in which her husband had once been held by his colleagues – and not only those at the Yard – she knew that his views would be eagerly sought, particularly in a case as grave as this one. But watching it happen now, she was filled with misgivings.
‘Oh, it’s shocking, I grant you,’ Boyce went on, having failed to elicit an immediate response. ‘I’ve never seen anything like that poor child’s face. But ten to one this Beezy will turn out to be the man we want. Or someone very like him.’
‘A tramp, you mean?’ Madden sounded surprised.
‘Well, yes, I suppose I do. That sort of man.’ The chief superintendent pursed his lips. ‘Look, it’s not inconceivable, living the life they do… tramps… vagrants… they lack so much… they’ve no opportunity…’ He directed an embarrassed glance at Helen, who’d divined the source of his discomfiture.
‘You’re implying they’re sexually deprived,’ she said.
‘Well, yes. Since you put it that way.’ The Guildford chief sought refuge in his handkerchief. He blew his nose loudly. ‘And that sort of feeling can build up, can it not? You get pressure, more and more pressure, and when the dam finally breaks, well, it can be sudden and savage. That’s what happened here, I think. Whoever killed that girl lost control of himself.’
‘Are you certain of that?’ Madden’s quiet interjection took both his listeners by surprise. Boyce stared at him.
‘What are you saying, John?’ he asked. ‘What are you suggesting?’
‘I’m not sure, exactly.’ Scowling, Madden seemed suddenly a prey to doubts himself. ‘I don’t want to burden you with half-baked ideas.’
‘Never mind that.’ Boyce frowned in turn. ‘Just tell me what you think.’ And when Madden remained silent. ‘Are you saying I should call in the Yard?’
Helen saw that her husband had been expecting the question. But his reply was not what she had thought it would be.
‘I don’t see how you can,’ Madden said. ‘Not yet. You could be right about the tramp. And in any case he has to be found. But I’d make sure the Yard was informed about this.’ He spoke more confidently now; his mind was made up. ‘And I wouldn’t waste any time, either, Jim, if I were you. I’d get in touch with them right away.’
The drive back to Highfield was a silent one. Madden’s habit of withdrawing into himself when preoccupied was deeply engrained, and Helen had learned from experience to be patient with him.
It had taken her many weeks when they’d first met to learn the details of his past. To draw from him the story of the young wife and baby daughter he had watched die
Madden had found the tramp’s gesture mystifying until his wife explained it to him.
‘He’s lying low,’ she said. ‘He knows the police will be looking for him again. They should have hung on to him while they had the chance.’
‘Yes, but since he was here, why didn’t he come in and see you?’
‘Because then we would have had to decide what to do – whether to inform the police or not – and he didn’t want to put us in that position. Mrs Beck was right. He’s a proper gentleman, my Topper. But I do worry about him. He’s getting too old to be wandering about.’
Boyce, meanwhile, had turned his attention to Madden. ‘To get back to what I was saying, John – the girl’s injuries aside, do you think there’s something unusual about this killing?’
Listening to the Surrey policeman, Helen felt a twinge of unease. Well aware of the regard in which her husband had once been held by his colleagues – and not only those at the Yard – she knew that his views would be eagerly sought, particularly in a case as grave as this one. But watching it happen now, she was filled with misgivings.
‘Oh, it’s shocking, I grant you,’ Boyce went on, having failed to elicit an immediate response. ‘I’ve never seen anything like that poor child’s face. But ten to one this Beezy will turn out to be the man we want. Or someone very like him.’
‘A tramp, you mean?’ Madden sounded surprised.
‘Well, yes, I suppose I do. That sort of man.’ The chief superintendent pursed his lips. ‘Look, it’s not inconceivable, living the life they do… tramps… vagrants… they lack so much… they’ve no opportunity…’ He directed an embarrassed glance at Helen, who’d divined the source of his discomfiture.
‘You’re implying they’re sexually deprived,’ she said.
‘Well, yes. Since you put it that way.’ The Guildford chief sought refuge in his handkerchief. He blew his nose loudly. ‘And that sort of feeling can build up, can it not? You get pressure, more and more pressure, and when the dam finally breaks, well, it can be sudden and savage. That’s what happened here, I think. Whoever killed that girl lost control of himself.’
‘Are you certain of that?’ Madden’s quiet interjection took both his listeners by surprise. Boyce stared at him.
‘What are you saying, John?’ he asked. ‘What are you suggesting?’
‘I’m not sure, exactly.’ Scowling, Madden seemed suddenly a prey to doubts himself. ‘I don’t want to burden you with half-baked ideas.’
‘Never mind that.’ Boyce frowned in turn. ‘Just tell me what you think.’ And when Madden remained silent. ‘Are you saying I should call in the Yard?’
Helen saw that her husband had been expecting the question. But his reply was not what she had thought it would be.
‘I don’t see how you can,’ Madden said. ‘Not yet. You could be right about the tramp. And in any case he has to be found. But I’d make sure the Yard was informed about this.’ He spoke more confidently now; his mind was made up. ‘And I wouldn’t waste any time, either, Jim, if I were you. I’d get in touch with them right away.’
The drive back to Highfield was a silent one. Madden’s habit of withdrawing into himself when preoccupied was deeply engrained, and Helen had learned from experience to be patient with him.
It had taken her many weeks when they’d first met to learn the details of his past. To draw from him the story of the young wife and baby daughter he had watched die
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