‘Mr Miller’s sister.’
‘Oh right. Well, yes. Tom had a word with him. He wanted to tell him what we all thought of him. Because we didn’t feel justice had been done.’
‘Do you know if Tom threatened him?’
‘Tom doesn’t mince his words and you don’t want to get on the wrong side of him. But that was the last any of us had anything to do with Miller. I told Tom he needn’t have done it. There was no need to waste his breath on the man.’
‘So no one in your family saw Mr Miller again after your brother-in-law Tom visited him?’
‘No. It was left at that.’
‘Have you any idea if someone wanted to harm Mr Miller?’
‘No. But I’ll be honest, Mrs Peel, because I’m the honest type. We all wanted to harm him. I was left a widow because of him and my five children lost their father. The police did nothing about it. But you can’t take the law into your own hands. Tom had a word with him and we left it at that. Not a day goes by when I don’t think about Arthur. But I’d long forgotten about Miller, so I’m not too happy you brought him up again, Mrs Peel.’
‘I apologise. I realise this conversation hasn’t been easy for you.’
‘Why are you interested in him, anyway?’
‘I found a letter from ten years ago in which someone described his disappearance. When I read it, I wondered if he’d been found. But he hasn’t, and it’s a mystery as to what happened to him.’
‘I wouldn’t waste your time on him, Mrs Peel. He’s not worth thinking about. If I were you, I’d spend my time on something else instead.’ She narrowed her eye. ‘Where are you from?’
‘Bloomsbury.’
‘Thought you looked posh.’
‘No, I’m not posh. I live above a tailor’s shop. And I work in a bookshop.’
‘And you’re a detective?’
‘In my spare time.’
‘I’ve never come across someone like you before. But you seem like a nice young woman.’
‘I’m not young.’
Mrs Connolly gave a cackling laugh. ‘You’re younger than me, so you’re young in my eyes. Well, it was nice meeting you, Mrs Peel.’ She stepped back into her doorway. ‘And take my advice and forget about Miller. He was nothing but trouble.’
Chapter 18
Mary Connolly closed her front door and returned to the kitchen where her son was at the table, finishing his pork chops.
‘Who was that?’ he asked.
‘A woman called Mrs Peel asking about that man, Miller, who hit your dad with his bicycle.’
He sat back and wiped his mouth on his shirtsleeve.
‘Why?’
‘Miller went missing ten years ago and was never found again.’
‘Why did she ask you about him?’
Mary shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Watch the time, Harry.’ She nodded at the clock on the wall. ‘You’ve got to be back at the factory in ten minutes.’
He got to his feet and put on his jacket. ‘I want to know why she came round here.’ The mention of Miller had agitated him. She knew this by the way he jutted his jaw.
‘She told me she found an old letter about Miller’s disappearance. She wanted to find out if anyone knew what happened to Mr Miller.’
‘I don’t see why.’
‘Me neither. I never even knew he vanished. I told her I hoped some harm had come to him. I know that’s not charitable of me, but it’s how I feel after what happened to your father.’
‘Maybe he was properly punished for what he did in the end.’
‘Mrs Peel knows your Uncle Tom went to see him after the inquest.’
‘I wanted to go with him.’
‘And I wouldn’t let you because I was worried about what you might do. I told you to leave it to Uncle Tom.’
‘So does she think Uncle Tom is behind it?’
‘I don’t know. She thinks Uncle Tom only visited him once. And I told her we left it at that.’
‘He saw him more than once.’
