Free The Murder of Patience Brooke by J C Briggs Page B

James Bagster nodded in affirmation. ‘He understands, too, why I must send Constable Rogers to Kensal Green to ask James’s daughter to confirm his arrival at her cottage on Friday and that he stayed until this morning. He knows that I must have evidence about anyone who had contact with Patience in case we are able to bring a suspect to trial. We need now to know if James, here, can shed any light on the matter. We will begin with the pedlar.’
    Dickens was glad that Sam Jones had decided to trust James Bagster whom he knew to be a good, honest man. Dickens, who knew himself to be a shrewd reader of character, admired the same quality in his friend.
    Bagster thought awhile, and then in his slow, deliberate way, began, ‘I remember him coming. I saw him at the garden gate. He was a strange-looking man, with a crooked face –’
    There he was again – the man with the crooked face who had disturbed Davey, and who had played a curious role in Mrs Morson’s dream. Haunting the story, the twisted face of the man appeared, vanished, and reappeared like some spectral presence.
    â€˜Had you seen him before, perhaps calling at other houses, in the village, perhaps?’ The superintendent wanted facts, not a ghost.
    â€˜Never. He just appeared. There are some regular streetmen and women. I know them – we don’t have too many hereabouts – there’s the cat’s meat man. He passes by sometimes, but there’s not much call for it here – mostly farm cats, and our Peg.’ The superintendent raised his eyebrows as much as to say ‘I haven’t heard of her before.’
    â€˜The stable cat,’ grinned Bagster, ‘not my wife, nor fancy woman. Peg has to do with scraps and what she gets herself – a mighty hunter, she is. There she is –’ Peg, no doubt having heard her name, came to investigate the superintendent, and finding him wanting, strolled out of the stable, her tortoiseshell coat shining momentarily in the sun. Dickens, she ignored. He preferred Poll who had won his heart.
    James Bagster went on to give an account of some of the regulars. There was, occasionally, a muffin man though it was a bit far out; the florist’s cart came in all weathers and Jopp, the clothes-pole man with his fresh-cut poles, new ropes for drying and his wife with her basket of clothes pins, all items manufactured by themselves. James knew these as an honest couple, and repeated his statement that the pedlar was new, and had never been seen again.
    The superintendent considered this. ‘That’s interesting. You might think that having found some customers, he might have come back to try his luck again. Constable Jenkins is making enquiries – we might have him in our sights yet.’ He glanced at Dickens, indicating that he should ask his questions.
    â€˜James, what about Patience? What did you think of her?’
    â€˜I liked her though she was mortal quiet – she came in the garden often. She liked the peacefulness when the girls were not in here. They are a cackling lot sometimes. She was good to Davey, teaching him and that, patient – like her name – cos he can’t speak, of course, but he’s a quick learner.’
    â€˜Did she tell you anything about her past – before she came here?’ Dickens asked.
    â€˜No, and I didn’t ask. No more than I did the other girls. But there is one thing I thought about her.’
    Dickens looked at Sam – this might be something.
    â€˜Last year, in September, when she’d not long been here, my Annie’s husband brought their little girl to spend a day and night here while she was confined for her coming child. It was warm and she played in the garden. Patience came in and it was pleasant to see her teaching the child the names of the flowers and feeding her a plum from the tree, and when the little maid fell and grazed her knees, Patience took her on her lap