‘Fair enough.’ Williams’s eyes had a steely glint. Little wonder, Hennessey thought, that the boy on the platform looked so nervous. ‘I suppose that would have been swept up and pocketed by a thief.’
‘Everything was neat and tidy. The only thing a little out of place is the fact that your parents’ car is parked in what is an unusual way. So we’re told. Apparently, both Mr and Mrs Williams were in the habit of reversing the car into the driveway, but it has been parked having been fronted in. But it’s dangerous to read anything into that. When did you last see your parents?’
‘Both of them on Saturday night/Sunday morning. We got home from the restaurant at about half past midnight, went straight to our beds. I last saw Mother on the Sunday morning, Father was sleeping off his hangover. We had been out for a meal that night, me, my sister, Mother and Father. On the Sunday we all slept late, as we usually do when we’ve been out.’
‘Do you often go out as a family?’
‘Not often, once every three months, possibly more than that. That was the first time we had been out as a family since my parents moved to the bungalow, in March, I think it was…and the last time we went out for a meal was in February, for Mother’s birthday.’
‘I see. Was the meal on Saturday evening to mark a special occasion?’
‘No.’
‘So you left on the Sunday, you saw your mother but not your father?’
‘That’s correct.’
‘What about your sister? Did she see your father on the Sunday?’
‘You’ll have to ask her that. I left before she did. I have much less distance to travel but I wanted to return home.’
‘Convenient that you’re based so close to your parents?’
‘Well, it helps or it hinders, depends on your attitude to service life. Some have made the grade in the services because they’ve been posted a long way from their roots, others have survived because they’ve been able to return home at frequent intervals. It’s a question of personality.’
‘And you?’
‘I like it. I wasn’t always shore-based. I was at sea for a few years, then I was shore-based. It suits me being close to York.’
‘What sort of establishment is this?’
‘Can’t tell you, but as things go it’s not so important. We won’t win or lose the next war because of HMS Halley.’
‘You’re not happy at this base?’
‘I’m happy with the location.’
‘But not the position itself?’
‘No. I’ve had happier times.’
‘I see. Can I ask how old you are?’
‘Thirty-five. What’s the relevance of that?’
‘I don’t know if it is relevant or not. But your parents have disappeared, I’m afraid we must begin to assume the worst.
‘Your parents are how old?’
‘Both fifty-eight years.’
‘Young parents, then?’
‘Yes…I suppose they were.’
‘I see.’
‘Do you ever say anything else but “I see”.’
‘Only when I don’t see, sir. Then I say I don’t. You see?’
‘So your relationship with your parents was good?’
‘Yes…no more issues than any other family.’
‘It sounds like it…regular, if infrequent meals out, sounds like a successful family. And your sister, she too has a good relationship with your parents?’
‘Well, yes…closer to Mother than Father. She’s a year younger than me.’ Williams seemed to Hennessey to be relaxing.
‘Not married?’
‘No. It worries my parents, they want her to find someone and start a family. Me too, but being a man nature allows us more time…but they’re worried about Nicky. Thirty-four and still single…good-looking girl too…no reason for her not to marry…clever girl…went to university…works in the Civil Service in London.’
‘I see. Do you know her address off hand?’
‘Twelve D, Chertsey Mews, NW2.’
Hennessey scribbled on his notepad. ‘Nice and central.’
‘Yes. You know London?’
‘I ought to. I am a Londoner.’
‘I noticed you didn’t have a Yorkshire accent.’
‘I grew up in Greenwich. You’ll know Greenwich, being a naval officer?’
Williams smiled. ‘Yes, Greenwich, the Naval College, the Observatory, the Maritime Museum…the Sailors’ Hospital, pleasant pubs as well.’
‘Yes. I’m from down the bottom end of Trafalgar Road, near the hospital. Maze Hill, really.’
‘I never got down there.’
‘Navy never did, officers especially. But back to the matter in hand. Did your parents have any worries or concerns that you were aware of?’
‘Not that I am aware of.’
‘Did your father have enemies?’
‘He is a businessman. All businessmen have enemies.’
‘Any that stand out?’
‘Not that I knew of. I didn’t take much interest in Father’s affairs.’
‘What sort of business did he run?’
‘No one sort. He had fingers in a lot of pies. He makes his money by investing in new companies, or buying newly floated shares. Venture capitalism, I believe it’s called.’
‘I see. And your parents’ relationship itself, is that healthy?’
‘Well, yes, very. They were happy together.’
‘Can I ask a personal question?’
‘I daresay.’
‘Your sister lives in NW2?’
‘Yes.’
‘Rent or mortgage?’
‘Rent.’
‘NW2 on a civil servant’s salary?’
‘Father was a generous man. He subsidized Nicola and myself. I can live off the base and enjoy a full social life because of Father. The salary I receive is a token payment. Service officers have to have private means.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’
‘And you have suddenly begun speaking of your father in the past tense.’
‘No, I haven’t. His money is in the past tense. I suppose I should say that he was a businessman.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s broke.’ Williams smiled. ‘You think it’s funny that I laugh? What else can I do? It’s better than crying.’
‘Lieutenant Williams, what do you think has happened to your parents?’
‘I think they’ve done a moonlight flit.’
‘When did you learn this?’
‘Well, I’ve suspected for a while, but all our, that is mine and Nicky’s, fears were confirmed on Saturday. That’s why I didn’t remain long at the house on Sunday morning. I wanted to get home. I was in a state of…’
‘Anger?’
‘No…numbness. Shock. My world closed in very suddenly on Saturday night.’
‘I see.’
‘I thought you’d say that.’
‘When men go broke they often leave unpaid debts.’
‘Yes. But I don’t know if my father owed money.’
‘What does it mean for you?’
‘It means I shall have to leave the navy.’
‘Bother you?’
‘Yes. Not too bothered about leaving the Halley.’ Williams looked disdainfully around him. ‘But the navy…it’s been my life since I was seventeen. Can’t survive without father’s money…so I’ll have to resign and make my way in civilian life. Daresay I can do that if I have to, and it looks like I’ll have to.’
Tuesday afternoon and evening
…in which Chief Inspector Hennessey enjoys a history lesson and expresses grave concerns.
‘The Fulling mill appeared in England in the thirteenth century and this particular example is believed to date from the mid-fourteenth century. A Fulling mill consisted of an axle or spindle onto which were attached a row of spinning wheels.
The axle was driven by water power. The original mill was covered by a shed in which the millers worked on a daily basis, returning home each evening. It was thus the first form of factory. As can be seen, the stream has now dried up but the banks and the bed of the stream are still discernible.’
Hennessey read the notice attached to the wall and then looked down through the glass plate which was mounted on a brick-built square and elevated above floor level to waist height. He saw a pale, grey, decayed length of timber about six feet in length which lay across a shallow trench. It was to his eyes, nothing he thought special to look at, the sort of thing he would glance at once and forget, but equally, the sort of thing which would send a medievalist into a paroxysm of ecstasy. He turned his attention to the wall and pondered the reproductions of eighteenth-century prints of fox-hunting scenes, the originals clearly having been painted in the days when it was believed horses leapt rather than ran when they galloped. Beside the fox-hunting scenes was a reproduction of a seventeenth-century map of Yorkshire with ‘the most famous and faire Citie of Yorke defcribed’, and Hennessey studied the map, tracing the towns along the route of the present Al. He envied Yellich the ability to sit so patiently still. Hennessey had always had a restless nature, really since adolescence, utterly unable to sit still.