Free Perseverance Street by Ken McCoy Page B

some time.’
    ‘When? Are you saying I got the bus out to Grassington and broke into the house just to give myself a good story to tell?’
    ‘No, I’m notsaying that. I’m saying … for example there was a house contents sale in April. It was pretty much an open house as far as I can tell.’
    ‘April? It was April when we went there.’
    ‘Really. When in April?’
    ‘April the fifth. It was the day after my birthday. It was a Thursday. We met the Oldroyds in a teashop on the lunchtime, went back to their house and ended up missing the coach back and staying over. Mr Oldroyd ran me into Skipton the following day with there being no through buses from Grassington to Leeds.’
    ‘I see.’ Bannister was staring at the wall clock. ‘Do you mind telling me where you got that clock?’
    His eyes turned sharply on hers as he asked the question. So did Eileen’s. Lily frowned and looked up at the clock.
    ‘Why do you want to know that?’
    It slightly troubled her because the clock had been a present from Auntie Dee and, knowing Auntie Dee, it was quite possible the clock wasn’t kosher. But no way could Bannister know that. Surely. He spotted the flash of guilt on her face.
    ‘Just answer the question.’
    ‘It was a wedding present.’
    ‘Oh. So you’ve had it how long?’
    ‘Well, we were married nearly four years, so I’ll let you work it out, Sergeant. Do you have any other daft questions?’
    He glanced at Eileen who gave a slight shake of her head, advising him not to pursue it. He could check it out later so he changed the subject.
    ‘Tell mewhat happened between you and Mrs Muscroft.’
    Lily gave a sigh that said she’d had enough of this for one day. ‘The stupid woman accused me of killing Michael. I reacted normally.’
    ‘How did you react?’
    ‘I lost my temper and pushed her. She tripped over the kerb or something and banged her head on the lamp-post.’
    Bannister nodded. He really wanted this charge to go away. It was getting in the way of the real investigation. Mrs Muscroft had told them that Lily had attacked her with her fists. If this statement proved untrue he’d make sure the charge would be dropped. He took out his notebook and wrote something down, then asked:
    ‘Did anyone see this?’
    ‘Yes. Albert Pilkington. He lives down at number twenty-five – or is it twenty-seven? It’s got a green door.’
    Bannister got to his feet and looked at the patched-up window. ‘That’s not safe. Would you like me to send a glazier round? I know a man who’s quite reasonable with his prices. I’ll see if I can get him to come this afternoon. I’ll also have a word with young Harry Bridges. Tell his parents to cough up the cost.’
    ‘I wouldn’t bother. There’s only his mother at home and she hasn’t two ha’pennies to rub together. She’ll give you a right mouthful and tell you what an angel her little boy is.’
    ‘I’ll still have a word. Mark the lad’s card. It’ll stop him bothering you again.’
    ‘Thank you. Isthat it, then?’
    ‘Possibly – if Mr Pilkington verifies your story. If not, we’ll have to take you down to the station to make a formal statement.’

Chapter 13

    Two dayslater Albert was walking down the street, heading for the lavatory block. Lily had been sitting by the window all afternoon, waiting for him. Albert was a creature of regular habits. She was consumed with what was, perhaps, a disproportionate sense of betrayal. He was the only one whom she thought had been on her side and therefore the only one in a position to betray her. She laid Christopher in his pram and eased it down the two steps to the pavement. Then she called out to him.
    ‘Albert!’
    He turned and a look of guilt spread over his face like thick margarine. He looked undecided as to whether to retreat to the sanctuary of the lavvies or face up to her. The lavvies seemed the best bet to him.
    ‘Don’t you walk away from me, Albert Pilkington. I’ll wait for you if I