Louisa laughed. ‘My canary was the same. Very temperamental.’ She reached into her bag and pulled out a bundle of papers tied up with string. ‘Are you interested in more of my brother’s letters?’
‘Yes I am!’
Louisa placed the bundle on the counter. ‘When I learned Alexander Miller hadn’t been found, I wondered if John’s other letters held any clues. Mr Miller is mentioned in quite a few of them, but I’m not sure how useful the information is. I’m not a detective like you, Mrs Peel, so I could easily have missed something which might be useful.’
‘Thank you Mrs Bradshaw.’ Augusta picked up the bundle. ‘I’m sure there’s something in these letters which could give us some clues.’
‘I have to say John’s handwriting was quite dreadful! If you come across any words which are completely illegible, please just ask me about them.’
‘I will. This is extremely useful Mrs Bradshaw.’
She sighed. ‘All this has got me thinking about John’s death again.’
‘In what way?’
‘I’ve always accepted his death was an accident. But I’m beginning to wonder about that now. With Alexander still missing, it’s clear something unpleasant happened to him. So I wonder the same about John. Perhaps someone pushed him under that train. It’s a horrible thought, but I can’t help considering it. Perhaps both Alexander and John were murdered.’
‘Can you think of anyone who would have wanted to harm John?’
‘No. No one at all. But I didn’t know everything about his life. There could have been someone he got into trouble with. I just think it’s more than a coincidence that something happened to them both in the same year.’
‘I agree it needs looking into,’ said Augusta. ‘The reports from the inquest into your brother’s death suggest the witnesses had different opinions about what happened that day.’
‘That’s true! I remember it at the time. It was strange that the witnesses couldn’t completely agree on what they saw. I really didn’t know how the coroner was going to make a decision. I must say I’m impressed you’ve looked into his inquest, Mrs Peel. That’s very thorough of you.’
‘My assistant, Fred, did most of the work.’
‘You have a team of people working for you?’
‘No! Fred works here in the shop with me, and he offered to look up the reporting on the inquest at the library.’
‘Well, say thank you to Fred from me.’ She checked her watch. ‘I need to be on my way. There are a few things I need to do before the children are home from school.’
‘Well thank you again, Mrs Bradshaw. I’ll let you know if we find something useful in these letters.’
Chapter 21
Mary Connolly found her brother-in-law, Tom, in the garden of a house he worked at on Dollis Avenue.
‘Did you know Alexander Miller went missing?’ she said.
He paused from digging a section of the vegetable patch and leant on his shovel. His eyes were screwed up against the bright sunlight and a thin, rolled-up cigarette stuck to his lower lip.
‘Miller?’ Even at sixty-seven, Tom was leaner and stronger than his younger brother had ever been. He hadn’t succumbed to the drink like Arthur had. Mary regretted not having done more to keep her husband away from the pub. Had he turned to drink because she hadn’t been good enough for him? Tom had told her she shouldn’t blame herself, but she couldn’t help it.
‘Miller went missing ten years ago,’ she said. ‘A lady came round yesterday asking me about him.’
‘What lady?’
‘Mrs Peel. She’s a private detective. She’s trying to find out what happened to him.’
‘Who cares what happened to him?’
‘That’s what I told her.’
‘He probably crashed his bicycle, fell into a ditch and died there. Got eaten by foxes and stray dogs.’
‘That’s as good an explanation as any, Tom. If she comes asking again, I’ll tell her that’s probably what happened.’
‘It must be. And I’m not sorry about it either. He deserved it. He should have been locked up.’
‘That’s what I told her. I told her she needn’t waste her time finding out what happened to him. The man was no good. He should have been tried for murder.’
‘He should have.’
‘She knows you paid him a visit.’
Tom’s face stiffened, and he pulled the cigarette from his lip. ‘She knows about that?’
‘She heard it from Miller’s sister.’
‘Word gets round.’ He tossed the cigarette onto the ground and turned it into the earth with his shovel.
‘What did you say to him?’
‘Oh, you know me, Mary.’ He leant on his shovel again. ‘I kept it polite.’ He grinned, displaying the few teeth he had left.
‘How polite?’
