Page 54 of Strangers in Time
A N I NSPECTOR C ALLS
M OLLY COULDN’T STOP FROM smiling all the way back to The Book Keep. Now she only had to convince Mr. Oliver to write that letter. If he wouldn’t, Molly trusted that she could imitate her father’s handwriting well enough. And Matron Tweedy would have nothing to compare it to.
As she turned down the alley she noticed the burly man at the bookshop’s door. He wore a creased hat and long brown trench coat, along with a stiff, official posture. Mr. Oliver was standing in the doorway and the man was showing him what looked to be a photograph. As Molly approached them, Inspector Willoughby turned to her and doffed his hat. “And who might you be, young lady?”
Oliver said quickly, “Inspector Willoughby is with the police, Molly. He is here inquiring about a boy named Charlie Matters. He thinks this boy might have attempted to break into my shop with some other lads. And when they ran away one of the lads and a constable chasing them were hit by a lorry and killed.”
Molly’s face turned pale as Oliver continued, “I told the inspector we don’t know this Charlie Matters, and had no idea he might have attempted to burgle my shop.”
Willoughby, who was watching both of them closely, said, “And what’s your relation to Molly here?”
“She’s the niece of one of my cousins who lives in the country. Molly is staying with me for a bit.”
Willoughby, eyeing Molly, said, “May I ask why you’re in London?”
Molly said quickly, “There is a private girls’ school here that my mother is thinking of sending me to.”
“Which one?”
“St. Elspeth’s.”
“What, in Chelsea?”
“That’s the one.” Molly had selected that one because before she had left for the country, it had been arranged that she would attend there. “Do you know it?”
“I know it costs a packet. Chief Constable Quigley’s granddaughter goes there. So your family must have money,” he added.
“Well, my maternal grandfather did rather well in… hogs… and crops before the war. And my other grandfather was quite keen on manufacturing things. And my mother considers education to be the cornerstone of one’s life. Indeed I hope to become a doctor one day.”
“You mean a nurse,” corrected Willoughby.
“Oh, yes, no doubt that’s what I meant,” said Molly pleasantly.
“So you don’t know this lad, Charlie Matters?”
“I only arrived in London a short time ago. I haven’t had a chance to really meet anyone.”
“R-right,” said Willoughby, who was still looking suspiciously at both of them. “How about another lad named Lonzo Rossi? Here’s a picture of him.” He showed it to Molly.
Molly recognized the name from when Charlie had told her that was the boy who had stolen his book. But she shook her head at the photograph. “I’ve never seen him,” she said quite truthfully. “Who is he?”
“One of Matters’s mates.” He turned to Oliver. “I gave you a description of the boy. If you see him, ring me straightaway at this number.” Willoughby handed him a card.
“Certainly, Detective Inspector. Certainly.”
Willoughby walked off, but looked back once. Oliver waved to him. After he was gone, they went into the shop.
Molly said to Oliver, “So that’s why Charlie has been so miserable. It was his friend who was killed.”
“And his other mate obviously talked to the police.”
“Lonzo Rossi.”
Oliver nodded. “Yes. He’s in jail right this moment, or so Willoughby told me. They caught him when he was trying to enlist in the army.”
“Charlie mentioned Lonzo to me before. Lonzo stole the book you gave Charlie.”
“I see.”
“What will the charges be?” asked Molly fearfully.
“He mentioned rather a whole assortment, I’m afraid. Perverting the course of justice, wasting police time, but the more serious ones were contributing to the death of a constable, attempted burglary, and evading arrest. Inspector Willoughby said it would mean many years in prison.”
Molly looked horrified. “That’s preposterous. Charlie’s only a boy.”
“Nevertheless, the law says otherwise, I’m afraid, since both boys are in their teens. And it’s wartime now and apparently different rules apply.”
“And yet you lied to the inspector, as did I,” pointed out Molly.
“I feel quite guilty having involved you in it. But I didn’t want to give the game away.”
“That’s all right, Mr. Oliver. I would never have done anything to betray Charlie.”
“But the inspector is clearly suspicious.”
“Where is Charlie?” she asked.
“Like you, he left to find gainful employment. I really wish he wouldn’t feel as if he had to do that. I can provide for you both.”
“Well, I’ve just been hired as a nurse auxiliary.”
“Really? Where?”
“The Covent Garden Medical Clinic.”
“Really? As an air warden, I’ve often taken injured people there. They’re quite good.”
“Now, I need you to write a letter, as my father, to give me permission to do so.”
“See here, Molly, do you really think that’s necessary? I can—”
“It pays four pounds a week.”
Oliver gaped. “Four pounds? A week ? Are you serious?”
“And they provide meals as well.”
Oliver put a finger to his lips and glanced at the till, where there was less than twenty quid left after paying assorted bills. “Well, um, if you’re quite sure.”
“I am. But, Mr. Oliver, we need to make absolutely certain that Charlie and Inspector Willoughby never meet.”