Chapter Eleven

George had arranged to meet Molly on the mainland, in the afternoon. She had been pleased to be invited to join him. He decided, though, to go out in the morning, before the tide. There was little that he could learn now on the island. He needed to know where Charlie Todd went on the Friday before he left to look at the canal project. George’s impression of Charles Todd had been of a physically lazy man who exerted himself as little as possible. Yet on that day he had been up early, he had seen Jerry Packham and Pamela Marshall together on the shore, he had walked to the mainland, and he had walked back in time to see Pamela that evening, and to tell her that the Todds were an “immoral lot”. George felt handicapped by his ignorance of Charlie’s family and the business dealings of Todd Leisure Enterprises. He was sure that for some reason Charles had been to see his brothers that day. And he was sure that the visit was relevant to the inquiry.

It was a beautiful morning, calm and clear. Soon, on mornings like this, there would be a frost. As he walked down the track near to the Wendy House he met John. The younger man’s hands were filled with the ties of moving bird bags and they were strung round his neck. He was on his way back from the traps to ring the birds he had caught.

“The island’s crawling with birds,” he said. He was excited. “ It’s going to be a really good day. I can’t ever remember it being as good as this. Isn’t it lucky that you’re here? I’d never be able to get through them all on my own. I was just coming to wake you.”

George was tempted, for a moment, to stay. He could follow the tide out later to meet Molly. But he shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m on my way to the mainland. I want to meet Charlie’s brothers. I don’t want to leave it until tomorrow. I can’t get any further without talking to them.”

“But why? The police aren’t bothering us any more. I’m sorry about Nick, but it must have been him, mustn’t it? Or they wouldn’t have arrested him. Why can’t you leave it alone? You don’t know what you’ll stir up with all your questions.”

It seemed to George that John was overreacting.

“No, I don’t know what I’ll stir up. That’s why I must go, you see. I am sorry that I can’t help with the ringing.”

But John had walked away, sulky because his day had been spoilt, a fantastic figure clothed in the squirming bird bags. Thoughtfully George continued down the track. He waded across the gully and on to the sand. After the rain all the colours seemed very bright and the detail on the mainland was very sharp. It was good, after all, to be away from the island.