Free Jack on the Gallows Tree by Leo Bruce Page B

all.”
    â€œIt’s the Time it takes,” moaned Mr Humpling.
    â€œYou could go on working surely?”
    â€œLet’s get it over with. What do you want to know?”
    â€œAbout that pair of shoes that were found near Miss Carew’s body.”
    â€œI’d repaired them. Never mind how I know. There’s a way I have of putting two tacks in together so that I can always tell a pair of shoes I’ve repaired. I knew I’d done these.”
    â€œRecently?”
    â€œThey’d scarcely been worn from the time I had done them.”
    â€œBut you’ve no means of knowing when that was?”
    â€œNo, I haven’t. Might have been any time. I’ve had this shop for nearly twenty years.” He broke off to answer a woman at the counter. “No, they’re not ready,” he said. “I’ll try and finish them by tomorrow.” The woman expressed her annoyance and went. “See? They’re on at you the whole time. Don’t seem to understand there’s others to be done.”
    â€œMust be very tiring,” said Carolus soothingly.
    â€œIt’s not the work, it’s the people. I’d work all right if they’d only leave me in peace. I’ve only got one pair of hands. I told one the other day, I’m not an Indian goddess, I said. What more do you want to know so that I can get on?”
    â€œA pair of shoes was missing from here, wasn’t it?”
    â€œOne. In all the time I’ve been here.”
    â€œWhen did that happen?”
    â€œAbout six months ago. Some time before Christmas. They belonged to a man called Purley, who has left the district. The fuss he made you’d have thought they was solid gold. You see I used to keep the shoes that were ready on a rack by the counter. I’ve altered it since this happened. Anyone could have reached across when I wasn’t looking, and that’s what must have happened.”
    â€œYou don’t think it was the pair the police found?”
    â€œIt could have been, I suppose. I’m not to know, really. They were size eight, anyway.”
    â€œYou’ve no suspicion as to who could have taken them?”
    â€œI told the police I hadn’t. But since then I’ve come to remember. There was that artist chap who called about that time.”
    â€œWho was that?”
    â€œI don’t know his name. He brought a pair of shoes to be repaired.”
    â€œHow do you know he was an artist?”
    â€œYou could tell. He wore a big black hat and a cape.”
    â€œA beard, of course?”
    â€œNo. I don’t think he had a beard. But dark glasses; I remember those.”
    â€œWhat makes you think he had anything to do with the shoes?”
    â€œI didn’t like the look of him and it was about the same time. There was something funny about him. Besides, I’dnever seen him before and haven’t since. All the others who came at that time were regulars.”
    â€œFive good reasons, but not quite enough to convict your artist.”
    â€œNo. I don’t want to convict anyone, but I’m sure it was him took those shoes.”
    â€œDo you know a painter called Johnson? Mr Ben Johnson?”
    â€œHim? It wasn’t him. I knew him when he used to bring me shoes that hadn’t much left of them to repair. That was in the old days, before he was famous. It’s different now. But he never dresses himself up in big hats and that.”
    â€œYou’re convinced your man was a stranger?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI won’t keep you from your work then, Mr Humpling. And I won’t trouble you again.”
    â€œThat’s all right. Only it’s the Time. Someone will be on at me for not having their shoes ready.”
    From the shop Carolus turned towards the centre of the little town. Buddington did not cover a large area and to Rupert’s disgust Carolus had left his car at the hotel.
    â€œWhere now?”