Eager Beaver

Temple drove them from Starmouth to the riverside village of Topsham. It was and still is a quaint little place. In the 50s, many of the older houses still retained their Dutch windows overlooking the river. Eager did not live in any such luxury though. He rented an old barge that had been converted into a houseboat.

Temple parked the car just off the main street then he and Cantwell walked along a narrow cobbled lane leading to the river. A muddy slipway ran into the water and moored at its end were two old hulks. The furthest one was Eager's home.

They made their way rather gingerly across the deck of the first boat, then stepped via a worn gang-plank onto Eager's boat.

"Hello there!" Temple called. "Anyone on board?" They listened but there was no response. "Go below deck and see if he's there."

Cantwell hesitated when he peered into the hatch. He saw what looked like a black hole leading nowhere. What was worse, the steps leading into it were both steep and narrow.

"Well, go on, man, I'll take a look around the deck. He certainly didn't keep it ship-shape!"

Cantwell pondered whether to go down backwards or facing forwards. He tried the latter, holding onto the rail. He nearly fell headfirst into the hatch. Turning round, he careful stepped onto the top step and descended slowly.

The cabin was dark, even though it was a bright morning. A shard of light came through a hole in a tattered old curtain that hung across the porthole. He pulled the curtain back and a ray of strong sunlight penetrated the cabin.

A table and chair were directly in front of him. Behind them, on the far side of the cabin was a small bunk. On the bunk, snoring loudly, an empty whiskey bottle on the floor beside him, lay the semi-comatosed form of Eager Beaver.

"He's here, Gov!" Cantwell shouted up through the hatch.

Temple came down rapidly and peered round the cabin. Sniffing the air and grimacing, he pushed open the porthole.

"Out for the count, Gov." Cantwell stated rather obviously.

A bowl of scummy water and a jug stood on the cupboard next to the bunk. Temple dunked the jug in the water and dribbled drops over Eager's face. The effect was instant. Eager sat bolt upright and in the process hit his head hard on the topside of the bunk.

"What the fuck ..."

"Hello, Eager, sorry about the rude awakening." Temple said.

"What... what the ..." Eager rubbed his head then peered at Temple and Cantwell. "Who let you in?"

"Better here than at the station, Eager. Not so public here. No one to see us or hear us, as the song says. Really quite cosy."

Slowly, Eager swung his legs over the bunk. He reached down for the whiskey. Its emptiness brought a look of doom to his face. He rubbed his stubbly chin and groaned.

"You've had enough already, Eager." Cantwell said.

"Just one sip - just one then I'll be as right as rain. One of you must have a snifter with you." Eager's soulful brown eyes pleaded more than his words.

"See if there's any in one of his cupboards, Cantwell."

The first cupboard contained two tins of Heinz spaghetti and three tins of baked beans. In the second, there was a half empty bottle of gin.

"This do you?" Cantwell waved it towards Eager.

"It'll have to -No!" He gestured wildly at Cantwell, "Don't waste time getting a glass! Just gimme the bottle."

He grabbed shakily for it and swigged back its contents in one gulp. Coughing, spluttering and grimacing, Eager rubbed his arm across his mouth.

"God! That's better! What's it they say? A hair of the dog and all that." He belched, "Well, it's bloody true!"

"Great, Eager, so now you're ready to answer a few questions." Temple sat on a stool beside the bunk.

"What about 'aving a coffee. Not properly awake yet, am I?"

"When you've answered a few questions, then we'll see about the coffee." He nodded for Cantwell to sit down and take notes. "What did you mean, last night, about Redbourne being responsible for Ellacott's disappearance?"

"Don't recall, " Eager narrowed his eyes and peered into the air above their heads. "Don't recall anything about Redbourne."

"You told me he wasn't legit and was into race fixing." Cantwell hoped this would prompt him.

"I never did! I never said no such thing! And you can't say I did!"

"Calm down." Temple said. "We aren't questioning you formally. That's why we came to your boat. You'd want to help Ellacott, wouldn't you?"

Eager shrank back into the comfort of the bunk. He drew the moth-eaten blanket up to his chin: "It's not worth my skin. You two mayn't think much of the life here on my boat. But it's better than no life at all. And that's what I'd have if I snitched on Redbourne and Steele." He nodded at Cantwell. "Tom must've not heard me properly last night. Never was much good at listening was our Tom."

Temple sighed. He knew they wouldn't get anything out of Eager Beaver when he was in this state of mind. He gestured to Cantwell for him to leave. Then he also moved towards the hatch entrance.

"Okay Eager, we'll be leaving. You know how to get in touch with us. I advise you to think very carefully about where your real interests lie." Eager belched again and turned his head to the wall.

The Met Files

Whilst Cantwell had been in the pub, Temple stayed late in his office. He had phoned Sam Walters in London. They had trained together at Hendon police training centre and both spent their early career in Camberwell, South London. This was where Temple had first come across Redbourne.

Then, Redbourne had been a very small fish in a large pond but even so his activities caught the attention of Walters and Temple. Now, Temple wondered whether Walters had more information, at the Met, about Redbourne's recent activities.

When no return call had been forthcoming by 10:30, Temple yawned, put on his jacket and left for home. The flat smelled musty as he opened the door. He found a half-eaten pasty in the larder. It looked moth-eaten but it was food. He opened a bottle of cider and sat down at his small table. After eating, he wrote a letter to Sally, his daughter. He hoped her mother would read it to her. Feeling tired and low in spirits, he went to bed.

Next morning, he was in the office before 8 am. He phoned the hospital and was told that Brenda Ellacott had regained consciousness, but still could not talk to the police. The young doctor was adamant about that!

Cantwell literally bounced into the office at 9 am. He looked pleased with himself and bursting to talk: "Gov, I had a stroke of luck last night. met up with Eager Beaver in the pub. Debbie had gone to the flicks and so I had no food and ..."

"Get on with it, Cantwell. I'm not interested in your eating habits!"

"Sorry, Gov... Eager was talkative, to say the least. He was drunk you see." He saw Temple's grimace of irritation. "He thinks Ellacott's disappearance is no accident and that Redbourne and his lot are involved."

"We knew that!"

"Yes, I know. But he went on to say that Ellacott was somehow involved with them in race fixing."

"Race fixing?"

"He said Redbourne has high up connections and knows people in both horse racing and greyhound racing. How Ellacott fits in, he didn't say."

"Do you think this Eager Beaver would come in and have chat with us?"

"Not likely! He ..."

The phone rang and Temple gestured for Cantwell to pick up the extension and listen in.

"Hello, Jim, it's Sam Walters. Sorry I didn't get back to you last night. I poured over our files and found some interesting stuff on Redbourne. I'll send a copy down to you." He paused, "I guess, though, that you'd like some of the facts now. Right?"

"Right! Fire away."

"Redbourne was pretty small fry before the war. He worked with Tiffin - remember? Now he was a right bastard. Anyway, Tiffin used to send Redbourne round to visit the trainers at Newmarket and at Walthamstow. He struck up deals with a stable lad in Newmarket and a couple of dog trainers at Walthamstow. Tiffin did very nicely out of it.

Anyway, Redbourne got too big for his boots; started up drug runnning as well - amphetamines, cocaine - you know the score. Trouble was we couldn't pin anything on him - worse than Scarface Capone. Nothing ever stuck apart from a 2 year stretch for GBH. When he came out, he disappeared off our radar. So now he's on your patch. You're welcome to him!"

"Interesting stuff, Sam, very useful. I'd be keen to see the files. He's been up to all sorts down here in glorious Devon. Same old story, nothing sticks to him. The only difference is that there's no Mr Tiffin, round here. Redbourne is the big cheese."

"If you do get him, I'd be pleased to come and interview him myself. There are one or two questions I'd like answers to."

"I'll keep you posted, Sam. Thanks." He replaced the receiver and grinned. "So, the old dog hasn't changed his game. I feel that we'll get him this time, Cantwell. Let's you and me take a little trip to see Eager Beaver."

Gone to the Flicks!

By the time Cantwell got home all he found was a note on the sideboard:
'Didn't wait - gone to the Gaumont - could NOT miss the film - Debbie'

He opened the oven to see if she had left something for him to eat. There was nothing and since all he'd had all day were the two cheese sandwiches, his stomach was rumbling. Cursing Temple, he put on his mac and headed out to the fish and chip shop. The smell wafting down the street made him even hungrier. To his relief there was no queue.

"One large chips and two faggots, Bob."

"Saw your missus going past about forty minutes ago. She was going quite a lick too."

"Late home again, Bob. My Gov is a glutton for work and he doesn't give me a thought."

"This'll be the third meal you've had from here this week."

"I know! I know! It's pretty damn good for your pocket. But it ain't so good for me. I'm beginning to smell like a bloody chip shop!."

"Your Gov not got a home to go to, then?"

"Nope, poor bloke. His wife just upped and left him. Didn't just go to the flicks, went all the way back to London. Took their kid too."

Cantwell couldn't wait for the faggots, he started on the chips as soon as they were ready and had eaten several before the faggots were wrapped in the newspaper. He paid and wandered out into the street. He glanced at his watch and realised that Debbie wouldn't be back home for at least a couple of hours. He sauntered down the road eating his meal. Bob had soused the chips in vinegar and salt and this made him thirsty. He wiped his fingers on the newspaper, rolled it into a ball then, peering round to see if anyone was looking, he tossed it into a hedge.

The London pub was just around the corner. The bar was crowded so once he'd got his pint, Cantwell looked for somewhere to sit. At the far end of the bar, there were two free stools. Right at that end, Eager Beaver was sitting morosely sipping his beer. Cantwell remembered what Temple had told him about Redbourne's office goings on that afternoon. He had not been surprised to hear about Eager's problems. He and Eager had been at the same school. Even as a school kid, Eager had been gambling. He always had a tip for the horses and for the dogs. As far as Cantwell recalled the tips never won.

He walked over to the stool nearest to Eager and sat down: "Hello, Eager! How's things?"

"Don't ask!"

"Well I am asking. My Gov says you weren't looking too bright in Redbourne's this afternoon."

"Too bright! Damn right I wasn't too bright! That Redbourne, he's a bloody bastard. Him and his crew! They've nearly done for me. But I'm not going quietly, no siree!"

"Really!"

"Yes, really! After what happened to Ben Ellacott, I've got them by the short and curlies!"

Cantwell sipped his pint slowly, trying not to show too much interest. But his heart was beating fast at the mention of Ellacott's name. 'Steady as you go, boy' he said to himself.

"So what did happen to Ellacott, just done a bunk, hasn't he?"

"You think so, do you?" Eager leaned closer to Cantwell, "I tell you Ben was a poor judge of people. He had been a damn good pharmacist. Should have stuck to that and not got mixed up with Dr McBride and that vet." He touched his nose and winked.

"So if he didn't stick to the pharmacy, what did he do?"

"Got in with Redbourne - through McBride and the vet. Then he just got sucked in, didn't he?" He hiccuped loudly and Cantwell could tell he had drunk more than just one beer.

"How do you mean 'got in'?"

"What do you think I mean? Redbourne has contacts in the racing world - both the gee-gees and the dogs. He uses them like he used Ellacott! To make money."

"How?"

Eager was becoming exasperated by the questioning. Also he was becoming uneasy and glancing over his shoulder every few minutes: "They fixed the bloody races, didn't they? But something went wrong, didn't it? Last time I saw Ben Ellacott, he was in a right state. Kept saying that he wanted out. He was going to get away from Starmouth, away from Devon and he and Brenda would start over. Then," he paused, "then he went missing."

"Can you prove all this about the race fixing?" Cantwell asked.

"Course I can't bloody prove it. Even if I could, I wouldn't. It'd be more than my life's worth. Said too much already." He got off his stool unsteadily, knocking it over as he tried to walk away. He pointed a finger at Cantwell. "I'll deny everything, you might think you heard, Tom Cantwell. Deny everything."

Cantwell watched him go. He righted the stool and sipped his beer slowly. He wondered what Temple would make of all this, when he told him in the morning.

Redbourne

By the time they got back to the station, the canteen had stopped serving lunch. Two stale cheese sandwiches remained, their edges peeling back. The tea was stewed so strong that the teaspoon could almost stand up in it. Cantwell was dismayed but his hunger was so great he would eat and drink anything.

"I'm going to phone the hospital to find out about Brenda Ellacott's condition. You take your time, Cantwell. You'll get the most almighty indigestion from the looks of that bread - so eating fast will just make it worse."

The hospital staff were unhelpful and answers to Temple's questions were sparse. Her injuries were not life-threatening; she had not regained consciousness; she could not answer his questions in the foreseeable future. 'Well, thank you, doc.' Temple muttered under his breath, as he put the phone down.

Never one for patience, especially whilst on a case, Temple pondered as to how he could push the investigations further. Remembering the contents of Ellacott's wallet and Redbourne's business cards gave him his next port of call.

Cantwell came into the office just as Temple was leaving: "Where are we going, Gov?"

"We are not going anywhere. You stay and write up the report on today's events. Wait for a call back from the Path Lab on those pills. I'm going to Redbourne's place to check out about Ellacott's dealings with him. I'll see you when I get back."

Cantwell's heart sank, he knew these 'see you when I get back' statements meant he would be late home yet again. Debbie would be livid, they were supposed to be going to the flicks tonight.

Temple strolled through the town until he came to Redbourne's office. A gilt plaque proclaimed 'Mr R. Redbourne, Turf Accountant' outside a green door complete with brass knocker and letterbox. Without knocking, Temple walked in and climbed the flight of stairs to the first floor. A pretty blonde typist was sitting behind a large oak desk. She straightened her back and smiled.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked rather winsomely.

"I've come to speak to Mr Redbourne." He flashed his police card at her.

"He's in a meeting."

"No problem, I'm in no hurry." He strolled over to the window.

Loud voices, raised in argument, came suddenly from inside the office. Without further ado, Temple pushed past the reception desk and opened the door. Redbourne, a thickset man with a deep scar across his left cheek, was behind the desk. Two men were facing him, their hands placed firmly on the shoulders of a third man sitting in front of the desk.

"Trouble, Redbourne?" Temple asked sardonically.

"Who the hell let you in?"

"When there's trouble call a policeman, isn't that what they say? I heard the trouble - so I came."

Redbourne nodded to his two men. The tall, leaner one stepped aside. The shorter one released his grip on the seated man's shoulder.

"What do you want?" Redbourne asked.

"From what little I could hear, I thought it was you who was asking the questions of this gentleman. Who is he, by the way?

"This thieving bastard," he pointed, "goes by the name of Beaver or 'Eager' as his friends call him. But he ain't no friend of ours. He's the first in line to pick up his winnings but the last to pay his debts. He likes his little flutter on the dogs and the gee-gees"

"I'm sure Mr Beaver will be paying his debts in due course, won't you, Mr Beaver?"

The seated man was sweating profusely. He nodded vigorously in response to Temple's question. But it was Redbourne he addressed when he spoke:
"You'll get your money, Mr Redbopurne. Some of those dogs was dodgy, Mr Redbourne, you know that!" He saw the look on Redbourne's face and stopped jabbering. "I'll give you half your money next week and the rest the week after. God's honour, I will."

"With interest, Beaver." Redbourne leaned forward menacingly, "And you bloody better had!"

"Or what?" Temple asked. "What will you do? Same as you did to Ellacott?" He glanced at Eager Beaver. "Get out now, Mr Beaver. Be more sensible in future. Don't punt with sharks, or there'll be blood in the water."

Beaver didn't need to be told twice. He left rapidly nodding to Temple as he did so. Temple looked at the other two men. The tall, lanky one fitted the description that Cantwell had given of the man who jumped over Ellacott's back fence.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends, Redbourne?"

Redbourne cracked each of his knuckles in turn:
"This is Charlie Davey," he nodded towards the shorter, stockier man. "This is Ted Steele. They help me out in the office and on the racetracks. Invaluable they are."

"That's an unusual way to describe your henchmens' activities. 'Helping you out'." Temple looked at the two men, then directed a question at Steele: "Where were you between 10:30 and 11:30 this morning?"

"He was here in the office." Redbourne responded before Steele had the chance."

"Of course he was! How stupid of me to think he could possibl;y have been beating up little Mrs Ellacott." Temple nodded to himself then turned towards the door. "I'll be leaving then." As he did he heard an audible whistle of relief come from Charlie Davey. Temple went back to the desk and banged it hard with his fist. "If I find out differently, Redbourne, you're for the chop, this time. Understand?"

There was no response. Temple leaned forward and seized hold of Redbourne's tie, twisting it round his hand and pulling Redbourne out of his seat.

"Understand?"

Ted Steele stepped towards Temple, but Redbourne held up his hand to stop him. "I understand."

Temple pushed him away, turned on his heels and left the office, slamming the door as he did so.

"I'd look for another job, if I were you, love. It's not too good for your health around here." The young typist, eyes wide with shock, did not respond.