that had forcibly struck Richard Bilston as being missing and jotted them down hastily in case he forgot them. It would also be useful to have some items on his clipboard in case Salmon caught sight of it.
They drove back to the house in Eddington’s car, and he parked outside the front gate. Edna Salmon promptly materialised at the front door and moved into the porch, it was as though she had an automatic radar system that warned her of anyone approaching the house or passing anywhere near it.
Tim Salmon went into the house followed by Eddington, Tim and his wife were briefly closeted in the kitchen while Eddington was directed into the lounge-room. It was a pleasant room, the woodwork was painted white and the furnishings, though plain, were spotless as was the room itself. He cast his eye around and recognised several items from Richard Bilston’s description. The buzz of conversation in the kitchen ceased and he heard the sound of footsteps; the Salmons entered the room. Clearly there had been a committee meeting.
“Good morning, Mrs Salmon, we meet again,” he said warmly, ignoring the icicles that were heading in his direction and resisting the temptation to duck. “We’re most grateful that you voluntarily took care of these items, with all the vandalism, burglaries and …hmm… petty theft these days you never know do you?”
Her jaw jutted out and she gave a loud sniff, it was clear she had noticed his momentary pause before the final definition. She then folded her arms as she took a step towards Eddington. A lesser man may have run from the house screaming with terror at that, but Eddington was made of sterner stuff and eyed her levelly.
“I only took what…!” she began but Tim Salmon hurriedly intervened before she incriminated herself with any justifications for her actions.
“There’ve been a few break-ins around the village and we thought we’d take care of these items,” Tim said hastily, moving in between his wife and Eddington. “You say you have a list?”
“Yes, there is an inventory,” Eddington deliberately phrased it so that he wasn’t claiming he had it ready to hand, he also used the word ‘inventory’ to make it sound more legalistic. “The solicitors have been over the place with a fine toothcomb, and they’ve also been in touch with Mr Accrington’s insurance brokers. There were several items that were separately mentioned on his household insurance policy and upon his valuables policy, with specific values placed against them. The lawyers naturally want to know whether all of these items are still within the four walls, as do the insurers. They are very anxious with the property now being unoccupied, as the Unoccupancy Clause can apply after 60 days.”
“Unoccupancy clause?” asked Tim and the Salmons looked at each other.
“Yes, burglary cover will lapse after 60 days of unoccupancy. Insurers won’t pay out after that period, not for burglary, as you probably know, Mrs Salmon. That’s why everything has to be checked, and likely removed for safe keeping. They’ll probably be sending a team of investigators down.”
They weren’t, so far as he knew, not at this stage anyway, but the Salmons were not to know that. He paused and she sniffed again.
“Some of them are the property of John Accrington’s company, of course,” he added pointedly. “Some items of office equipment in particular and a few of the ornaments as well.”
That was something he wasn’t sure about offhand, but then, they wouldn’t know about that either. He eyed them as he said it and was relieved to see that there was some uncertainty between them. Whether there were any items specifically mentioned on Accrington’s contents insurance policy Eddington had no knowledge right now, but he considered it quite probable. But it was a useful salvo to fire in the Salmons’ direction and Eddington had no doubt he had scored a hit.
He moved over to the sideboard to have a closer look at the ornaments, and cast his eye over them. Having seen John Accrington’s study, the items certainly looked as if they would have been more at home there than where they were now, especially a small statuette that looked as if it could have some value, that fellow Bilston had mentioned something about a small statuette.
As he turned away he could see through the doorway into the next room and espied a wooden chest standing against the far wall. It was sandwiched between a china cabinet and a sideboard, and he could see small indentations on the carpet which indicated that the two items of furniture on each side had been moved apart to accommodate the wooden chest. He made a show of panning down the imaginary list in front of him and appeared to pause.
“There’s a wooden chest that used to be in his study, which had some ornate carvings on the front,” he pointedly turned his back on the open doorway so as not to give away the fact that he had just observed it. “Is that here too for safekeeping?”
There was a silence, during which they cast glances in each others direction but refrained from eye contact, being acutely aware that Eddington was looking in their direction.
“Well I …er…I…!” began Tim Salmon but Mrs Salmon began shaking her head. Accordingly Eddington took the bull by the horns. He turned around now so that he was squarely confronting the chest against the wall in the other room.
“Antique chest, dark brown in colour, ornate carvings on the front and inlaid on the top,” he read from his imaginary list. “Ah! Here we are, that looks like it down there. That’s it, isn’t it?” and so saying he walked through the doorway, over to the chest, stooped down and examined it closely. He fancied he could feel a burning sensation on the back of his neck as he was sure that Mrs Salmon was looking daggers at him. Mrs Salmon began to splutter something about it being a gift so he carried on as before, diverting her explanation with a question. “Does it open, or is it locked?”
“It’s locked,” said Tim Salmon, and was promptly withered by a glare from his wife.
“Oh that’s alright, I think we have the key for it, but I agree with you, this is something that would certainly attract thieves and a wooden chest always suggests valuables, doesn’t it? The chest itself looks as if it could have some value. I’m sure it must have, apparently when it was insured the insurers asked for a photograph of it.”
“The insurers? A photograph?”
“Oh yes, standard procedure these days,” replied Eddington. “John Accrington’s fellow directors were asking about that chest because there are company papers in it.” Eddington turned to Tim Salmon. “Do you have a cardboard box we can put the other stuff in Tim, I can take it back to the house now, Mr Accrington’s company will want that. The lawyers will be calling later to pick up some of the other items for the next of kin.”
He flung that last one in as a make weight. He had no idea whether relatives were involved or not, but as ‘next of kin’ always indicated people who could recognise particular items, this could further unsettle the redoubtable Edna Salmon.
“The locks are being changed today, and the alarm system is being re-configured to deter thieving. But we’d best have that key from you, the lawyers will want it accounted for - you know what they are - everything has been counted.”
He had placed a slight emphasis upon the word ‘thieving’ and hoped he hadn’t overdone it. Whether they noticed it or not, Tim Salmon went out to find a box while Mrs Salmon stayed and glowered at him.
“We found it in an outhouse,” she said grimly.
“I certainly commend you for your public spirited action, Mrs Salmon,” he said and managed to sound sincere. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of stuff that disappears these days. The solicitors will be very grateful, they were quite worried at one stage when they checked their inventory and found so many items weren’t there, and the company was particularly worried about that chest. But I assured them there was a perfectly simple explanation.”
He didn’t need to quieten his conscience or look hesitant when he said that, it was the literal truth!
As he drove back to the police station Eddington could still feel the barbs directed by Mrs Salmon, as if they were hitting the back of his neck. Tim Salmon had grudgingly supplied