Ray CW Scott

The Fifth Identity


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away. If she had appropriated items such as pillow cases, sheets, blankets or table cloths, Eddington couldn’t care less, they may just as well finish up in her cupboards or beds as being pulped by local rag merchants.

      But it was the wooden chest that intrigued him, he had prevailed upon Tim Salmon to assist him in pushing and lifting it onto the rear seat of his car, he had to back the car right up to the house. It was a hard task for the two of them and was quite heavy. Mrs Salmon suggested Eddington leave it until he could return with more manpower, but he dared not leave it there now that he had claimed it. If there was anything of value in it, and he was thinking more of possible company papers than valuables, it was vital they did not disappear or be destroyed. He would have to turn that over to Norman Ruddock unopened, though he was very tempted to have it opened and have a look himself.

      Accrington, to Eddington, had been man of mystery whilst living, and even more so now that he was dead. When a man of his stature died, relatives would usually descend upon the property like vultures even before the will was read to stake their claims for the vast fortune that lay to be claimed or to appropriate any knick knacks they wanted before anyone else could lay their hands on them. But, to date, there had been nobody, and Ruddock had confirmed this in a brief aside the last time they had met. This meant that personal papers could be anywhere, and a wooden chest that locked was a good candidate. If the Salmons got hold of them, there was no saying what could happen to them.

      He arrived back at the police station and acknowledged the sergeant at the reception area as he walked in.

      “Can you get two of the lads to remove a wooden chest from the back of my car, Ivan,” he said.

      “What’s in it?” asked the desk sergeant. “The Crown Jewels?”

      “You may not be far wrong,” grinned Eddington. “Maybe important papers if nothing else, we’ll see when we get it open.”

      He entered the main office carrying the cardboard box, walked over to his desk and laid all the articles on it. He looked at various items, turned some of them around, lifted them up and peered underneath them. Then with a shake of his head, he deposited them back on the desk top. Then he sighed, and picked up the telephone on his desk, fished out Norman Ruddock’s card from his card box, and began dialling.

      “A wooden chest, you say?”

      “Yes, I’m informed that it was discovered in an outhouse, and that it was a gift…two bloody lies for the price of one!” Eddington added as an aside with a dry chuckle. “But there was no key for it. I have little doubt it would have been opened eventually by Tim Salmon with his expertise as a locksmith, but I’d say so far he hadn’t gotten around to it - at least I hope he hasn’t.”

      “What are you intending to do about the Salmons?”

      “Not much, I think I’ve done all that needs to be done,” replied Eddington. “I see little purpose in wasting police time and that of the courts in hitting them for larceny, we’ve got most of it back and as far as I’m concerned the theft aspect has been solved. Mrs Salmon probably thought she had a right to nick stuff, having been there for years. I’d say she’s raided the larder for foodstuffs, but I’ve no problem with that. If it had stayed in the Accrington house it would have gone off by now and would have to be chucked out anyway.”

      “We noticed the larder was virtually empty when we were there,” said Ruddock.

      “She’s welcome to it,” grunted Eddington. “As far as linen and towelling is concerned it’s probably better that she has it and puts it to good use sooner than a rag merchant reducing it all to pulp.”

      “Yes I agree with that,” agreed Ruddock. “I certainly have no wish to waste our time suing them in our capacity as administrators, as you say we’d merely expend a lot of time and money for nothing, while the indignity could well kill them both.”

      “Where Mrs Salmon is concerned that aspect certainly has its attractions,” commented Eddington. “Nevertheless, in a small village situation where gossip rules the roost, I tend to agree, their credibility will be gone forever. No! Sleeping dogs can lie now as far as I’m concerned.”

      “What about this wooden chest? How big is it?”

      “I measured it as soon as I unloaded it in the nick. It measures 3′ 6″ long, 21″ high and 19″ from front to back. There’s something in it alright, I was aware of movement inside it when we were loading it into my car, nearly broke my back!” said Eddington. “Maybe I’ll ask Tim Salmon to open it - under supervision of course!”

      “A somewhat unorthodox procedure, but why not?” Ruddock replied. “It will give him an opportunity to save face too if we ask him to do us a favour.”

      “He’ll probably charge us a fee.” suggested Eddington. “I’ve no doubt his wife would insist on that.”

      “That doesn’t bother us, if we can’t find a key for it then we’ll have to pay someone to do it anyway,” said Ruddock. “I’ll ask Richard Bilston to have a look around Accrington’s old office and see if he can find any keys. I don’t hold out much hope though, we’ve had a good look there already.”

      “OK. I’ll bear that in mind. When are you coming down again?”

      “I thought next Monday,” said Ruddock. “The sooner we have a look in that chest the better.”

      The following Monday morning Ruddock parked his car in front of the police station, and entered the building. Eddington was waiting for him. After exchanging greetings Ruddock shook his head.

      “We’ve searched through all Accrington’s desk at his office, no key.”

      Eddington nodded thoughtfully.

      “Tim Salmon it is then - what are we prepared to offer?”

      “I think £100 would be the absolute maximum?” said Ruddock. “I’d say start at £50, they’re lucky we’re not taking action against them.”

      “Guess £50 may be enough for him, as long as we keep Edna out of the equation.”

      “I’d suggest we go straight to his workshop then,” suggested Ruddock. “Should you ring him and tell him we’re on our way?”

      “Hell no!” Eddington shook his head. “If we do that he’ll tell her and we’ll have her standing at the door with her bloody hand held out. No, we’ll just roll up.”

      They did just that, Eddington commandeered a divisional van and a constable to drive it, they placed the chest in the back with its front and lock facing the two doors. Then they drew up outside Tim Salmon’s workshop. Salmon saw the vehicle arrive and walked up to the roller door, his face fell when he saw who they were.

      “Oh, you again,” he said. “We haven’t got any more …!”

      “I know that, I trust you, Tim,” responded Eddington, with a conviction he did not entirely feel. “We just need you to do a little job for us.”

      “What’s that?”

      “Come round the back of the van,” said Eddington.

      The constable driver had already opened up the back and the wooden chest sat there just inside.

      “We need the chest to be opened, Tim, ” said Eddington. “Maybe you can do it for us, for a consideration.”

      Tim Salmon pursed his lips and fingered the lock.

      “I can do it tomorrow,” he said. “Can you leave it here and come back in the morning?”

      Ruddock shook his head.

      “Sorry, we can’t do that,” he said. “The job has to be done under police supervision, and witnessed by us as administrators of the estate.” He was damned if he was going to leave it overnight. There was no knowing what could be appropriated or destroyed by Edna Salmon if they did that.

      “It could be a long job,” insisted