Elizabeth Beaumont

Emerging from the hospital, Temple drove them through the town to Ellacott's chemist shop and pharmacy. It was just off the High Street and in a good position to do business. It was still open though it was the lunch hour. There was a notice on the outside stating that no presciptions could be left at the present time.

"What are we doing here?" Cantwell asked.

"Someone wanted something from Ellacott's flat. I don't think he found it. There's just a possibility that whatever it was is here. After all, it's where he spent most of his time."

"But we haven't got a warrant ..."

"Have faith, Cantwell!" He waved a sheet of paper in front of him. "I got one signed last night, after you'd gone off to the pictures."

"Some chance, Gov. By the time I finished duty, Debbie had gone off on her own. That's how I was able to chat with Eager."

"Look on the bright side, you probably only missed some soppy romance and think of the good you did by going to the pub instead."

"You tell Debbie that!"

On entering the chemists, they saw a tall thin woman in a grey tailored suit sitting on a stool behind the counter. She was in her late fifties and wore her hair very short, her face was without make up. However, the intelligence in her large brown eyes made her not unattractive.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I have a search warrant for the pharmacy." Temple held out the document for her to read. "We're investigating Mr Ellacott's disappearance. We hope to find out a bit more about him from the pharmacy. Perhaps you can help Miss er.."

"Miss Elizabeth Beaumont." She smiled. "I'm not sure I can be of much help though obviously, I'll try to answer any of your questions."

"Well, Miss Beaumont, I am Detective Inspector Temple and this is Detective Sergeant Cantwell. For starters, can you tell us what sort of person Mr Ellacott was. What was he like to work with? Who came here to see him?" He smiled reassuringly, when he noticed her frowning.

"He was easy to work with. He was a highly professional pharmacist. I had worked here before Mr Ellacott's arrival. He took over from old Mr Philpott about five or six years ago." She paused. "He knew his trade well. At first, everyone was delighted with him. Several of the local doctors recommended him to their patients."

"At first? So what happened later?"

"He hadn't gone into the forces during the War. He had a club foot so he joined the Home Guard but went on working here. His wife came to help out. Now, she is a lovely lady." A troubled look crossed her face and she stopped. "I don't think I want to say any more, Inspector."

"Why not? You're being very helpful."

"Maybe I am. But those were the happy times I'm describing. But ... things changed, Inspector. I don't want to get Mr Ellacott into any trouble."

"You won't be doing that, Miss Beaumont, but we do need help if we are ever to find out the reason for his disappearance. Also, in strictest confidence, Mrs Ellacott was very severely beaten and seriously wounded earlier this week by an intruder in their flat."

Miss Beaumont gasped and reached out for the pearl necklace around her neck:
"Oh, how dreadful!"

"I would appreciate it if you did not mention what I've told you to anyone else. But anything, however small a detail, might help us solve these two issues."

She sat back on the stool and ran her fingers through her hair. Then, nodding to herself, she leaned forward and looked at Cantwell and then at Temple:
"About two years ago, the man who owns the Blandford Hotel came here. Do you know who I mean?"

Cantwell nodded: "The one they call 'WingCo' Jackson?"

"That's what he likes to be called. But I do not believe he was ever a wing commander, or even a pilot. I heard from a friend that he'd been a mechanic in the RAF. His wife had some money and they got ideas above their station. Mrs Jackson told everyone her husband was a wing commander, so the name 'WingCo' just stuck." She blushed. "I don't like gossip but he was not a good influence on Mr Ellacott."

Temple was pleased to see Cantwell jotting everything down in his notebook.

"Anyway, Inspector, this WingCo Jackson came here two or three times a week. Mr Ellacott began to close the door to the pharmacy when he came. He had never done that before. I had always been able to come and go, collect the prescription medicines as and when people needed them. But after, this WingCo chap came along, I never went into the pharmacy again. Any medicines were left outside the door or passed to me through the hatch over there." She gestured towards a small square door inset into the wall.

"So there was quite a change in Mr Ellacott's behaviour."

"Oh, yes. This WingCo would arrive, often just as we were due to close. When I left, the two of them would still be closetted away in there. What they did, I have no idea."

"So, what do you think was going on?" Cantwell asked.

"At first, I thought they were friends. But then this WingCo brought another man along with him. He was what my dear old father would have called 'a wide boy'. Do you know what I mean?" Temple nodded. "He wasn't from these parts. I think he had a London accent. He's a very thickset man with curly brown hair, a thin moustache, a scar running down his cheek. He always wore very loud check suits. Oh, yes, he wore a large gold signet ring." She shivered. "I did not like the look of him. He always called me 'Ducky'."

"We know just who you mean, Miss Beaumont. You've given a brilliant description. Your assessment of him is pretty accurate. I should give him a very wide berth if you see him again."

"Any idea why he came here, Miss Beaumont?" Cantwell asked, pen poised in mid air.

"The same thing as this WingCo person. They both went into the pharmacy. I do remember that on two occasions, at least, this thickset man came out carrying small packets. He winked at me as he left. When I asked Mr Ellacott if any paperwork was necessary for the purchases, he almost bit my head off. Told me to mind my own business. He said I was a snooping old spinster! He'd never spoken to me like that before."

"So how long ago was that?"

"About six or seven months. Things were never right between us again. I got the feeling he'd be pleased to see the back of me." She looked down at her hands. "But you see, Inspector, I have to keep my job. I need to earn. I have elderly parents, my brother was killed in the War. So now there's only me to do everything."

Temple felt extremely sorry for her. He knew several women of her age and in similar circumstances. They had sacrificed their own lives out of a sense of duty. He looked around the area and at the pharmacy door. That was where he might find the answers to some of his questions.

McBride

Temple drove in silence from Topsham. Cantwell knew better than to talk when he was in this mood. Instead, he looked out of the window at the hedgerows and then across to the river. Although, the flood had abated, the river was full to its banks and the water was still fast flowing.

"We'll call in at the hospital and find out how Mrs Ellacott is doing. Hopefully, we can chat to her now. I want to know if she recognised whoever it was who beat her up and why they did it."

"Doubt if she'll be in a fit state yet, Gov."

"We'll see."

There were few cars in the car park, so Temple parked near the front entrance. He asked a young nurse for Gilpin Ward, then set off with Cantwell in tow down the long corridor. Cantwell sniffed the air, it smelled strongly of disinfectant and that indescribable hospital smell that he so disliked.

Brenda Ellacott was now conscious, she was in a small side-room just off the main ward. A young doctor was standing beside her. He turned with a look of disapproval as soon as he saw them. Before he could say anything, however, Temple held up his hand and waved his police card in front of him.

"She is not yet well enough to answer questions." The doctor said.

Even to Cantwell, this seemed rather obvious. Though she was conscious, her face was puffy and bruised and her lips were swollen and blooded. Her left eye was still closed and her left arm was in a sling. However, nothing daunted, Temple moved to the bed-head.

"Hello, Mrs Ellacott. We're so sorry you suffered this attack. I'm Detective Inspector James Temple and this is Detective Sergeant Cantwell. We found you the other day and got you into hospital. Can you remember anything about that day? Anything at all?"

Brenda Ellacott turned her face away and just moaned quietly. The doctor pushed past Temple and leaned towards her. He bent low and appeared to be listening to her. Then he straightened up.

"She wants to know if there's any news about her husband. She certainly cannot answer any of your questions, as you can see, she really can't talk properly yet. Someone tried to throttle her. You can see the bruising round her neck. When that subsides, she'll be able to speak."

Temple nodded: "Yes, I can see that. As to her question about her husband, I'm afraid there is still no news yet."

Cantwell saw a look of pain cross her face. He wasn't sure whether this was physical pain or the response to the news about Ben Ellacott.

"Come on, Cantwell, we'll be off." He turned to Brenda Ellacott. "We are doing our best to find your husband, Mrs Ellacott and also find out who did this to you." He smiled at the doctor.

As they walked back down the ward, a shortish man in a brown harris tweed jacket blustered his way to the ward sisters' desk. His ruddy face bore an arrogant expression and he was haranging the sister.

"Now look here, Sister, I'm a busy man and I demand to see Mrs Ellacott now. So show me to her."

"Who are you?" Temple asked.

"Who am I? Who are you, more to the point."

"I am a police officer and I am asking the questions, especially if they relate to Mrs Ellacott."

"Ah!" The man straightened his back, "I am her family doctor, name's McBride. I came to find out how she is. I'm a busy man and have little time to chatter to the police."

"So when, Dr McBride, will you be free to 'chatter', as you put it?"

"I don't see any reason to talk to ..."

"Well, we do, Dr McBride. As I asked, when can we see you?"

"I shall finish surgery tonight at 8:30, you can come to the surgery then and I'll see you for ten minutes."

"Where is the surgery?"

"At the far end of Blandford Avenue, opposite the Blandford Hotel."

Temple turned on his heels and indicated for Cantwell to follow. By then Cantwell was thoroughly miserable. 8:30! That meant he wouldn't be home till at least 10:30, if he was lucky. God Almighty, he thought, Debbie will half kill me.