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“Collecting me sister. Me mother were busy.”
“So,” said Gardener, trying to calm down. “You saw Plum and Felix together. Doing what?”
“Nothing. Just hanging round the gates. When Plum saw me, he said summat to the other bloke, and they both left.”
Gardener changed the subject. “We’ve been speaking to Olive Bradshaw.”
“What’s wrong with that old bag, now?”
“She said you’d had a disagreement the night Herbert Plum was killed. You never told us that either. What was it about?”
“Same as always. Odd noises coming from next door. All sodding hours. She’s another one who doesn’t care how much bloody noise she makes.”
Gardener hunched his shoulders as he felt a cold draft skate across the back of his neck. He turned, noticed an open window. “Did you hear anything on the landing above? Voices? Crashing furniture?”
“No. Can’t say I did.”
“So, you heard nothing. Olive Bradshaw indicated it happened around 6:30pm. Did you hear anything afterwards? Like his door closing? Someone running down the stairs?”
“No. I’ve said, the bairn were upset most of the night. So, I were seeing to him.”
Gardener was ready to scream. Couldn’t someone give him something to go on?
Chapter Forty-five
Back down the stairs, Gardener knocked on Olive Bradshaw’s door. No answer came. He glanced at his watch. “I don’t believe it. Where the hell are they now?” The whole scenario was really starting to infuriate him. “Come on,” he said to Reilly. “Let’s go.”
Gardener strode down the path, determined to find answers to his questions. He unlocked the car and was about to open the door when a familiar throbbing sound to his left diverted his attention. A man riding a motorbike pulled up opposite them, killed the engine, and rested the Bonneville on its side stand.
“Look at that!” said Gardener to his partner.
“Is that the same as yours?”
“Give or take a few years.”
Gardener strolled over. The rider removed his helmet and nodded. Gardener envied the bike, wondering if his would ever match the one in front of him. The Triumph was in pristine condition, shined like a pin, with new wheels and new tires. All the chrome was highly polished, and the paint job was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. “Nice machine. How long have you had it?”
The man smiled. He was in his mid-fifties with a small amount of grey hair at the sides of his head, a grey moustache and beard, and small lens spectacles. He was a little overweight, but he handled the bike well. “About seven years, now, mate. Mind you, spent the first three doing it up. Why? Are you interested?”
Gardener detected a Liverpool accent. “I’m restoring one at the moment.” He passed the man a business card. “Maybe you can let me know where to get the parts.”
The rider smiled, passing over his own business card bearing the name Jeff Harrison. “Do one better than that, mate. I own the business. Give us a ring when you’re ready, and I’ll sort you out a good deal.”
Gardener smiled. “Much appreciated.”
“No problem. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to dash.” He pointed to the house behind him. “Mother’s not too well. Hasn’t been right for a couple of weeks, not since that nasty business over the road. The one you’re probably investigating, given what your card says.”
“Sorry to hear it.” Gardener tipped his hat. “Hope she goes on okay. I’ll give you a ring.”
The man gave him a thumbs-up sign and walked down the path to his mother’s. Back in the car, Gardener glanced at Olive Bradshaw’s house before turning to Reilly. “I don’t know who to believe anymore. What to believe!”
“I don’t think you can put much store in what the Bradshaw woman says. She is a strange one.”
“Isn’t she just? When I met her on Friday night, she was going mental about the mess, complaining about the commotion. We interviewed her on Monday, and she was totally different. Today, she had us believe she had feelings for Herbert Plum, but she wasn’t prepared to investigate the disturbance because it would have made her late for bingo. I can’t understand the people around here. What the hell’s wrong with them, for God’s sake?”
“They’re either very stupid or very frightened. Could be that someone’s controlling it all very carefully,” offered Reilly.
“I can’t believe anyone would have that much power.”
