The Case Of The Berkshire Hog by Robert F. Clifton (ink book reader .TXT) 📕

and taxes. We know that Stanley Cook had the winning bid. I wonder Basil if there is a list naming the other bidders and how much they offered?”

“I take it that you believe that some chap named Henry would be listed,” Morgan replied.

“Just a thought. Just a thought.”

“I’ll look into it, but I say, I don’t expect to find any such person.”

“And what has you investigator turned up recently?,” asked Basham.

“ In speaking again to John Miller, nothing new.”

 

“Ah. Here comes the waiter. Separate checks old boy, said Basham.

“Why? Our lunch can go on my expense account which the Mercer’s will gladly pay,” said Morgan.

“Not the way I play mate. I never take pay for my services nor take lunch, dinners or breakfast after being serviced by a young bird,” Alistair explained.

“Very well. Separate checks please,” Morgan said to the waiter.

“No problem sir. Are the gentlemen ready to order?’, asked the waiter.

“Yes. I’ll have the veal chop and Cavolo Nero,” said Basham.

“And I’ll have the Welsh Black Beef with Horseradish, “ said Morgan.

“Excellent choices gentlemen,” said the waiter before he left for the kitchen.

“I’m surprised that you ordered the Cavolo Nero. Personally, I dislike it immensely,” said Morgan.

“When you get to my age you’ll need fiber just to get through the day. So today it’s kale, no matter what color.”

“So, you mentioned that your wife is in Scotland. Something about a dead body you say?,” asked Basil.

“Actually a bloke someone found buried in a bog in Shetland. Joyce being an anthropologist, and may I say a damn, good one was assigned by the university to go there and have a look,” Basham explained.

“Amazing the things they are finding. Hadrian’s Wall, ruins from the Romans, Pict, Scotti. They’re still looking for Richard The Third’s body,’ said Morgan.

“Perhaps they’ll find it one day,” Basham replied.

“Do they have any idea just how old the bloke is,?” asked Morgan.

“My wife said that he was from the sixteen or seventeen hundreds,” Basham answered.

“I wonder how they know? I mean actually know. Of course in today’s modern world science has made many advances but to be able to pinpoint an exact date in time is smashing,” Morgan replied.

“Actually, in this case I believe that it was the wool clothing that gave them the time period,”Basham explained.

“No. You mean to tell me that after all those years the chap was buried in the bog, his clothing was intact?”

“Exactly. I find it amazing myself. It probably has something to do with the chemical compounds in the bog soil. However, since I’m not an expert on anthropology, or the soil conditions of Scotland, that’s only my opinion.”

“And, I say, a rather good one sir. Now, while we have time let’s get back to business,” Morgan requested.

“Fine. Right now we have Albert Miller as a suspect of taking Roger Fleming’s money. Since Albert Miller is deceased we can’t charge him. I believe that the rubber heel mark in the dry blood pool places the man we’re looking for in the working class. Think about it Donlop’s rubber heels were meant to replace the traditional leather heel. In doing so it reduced the price asked by the cobbler. A man of means would in all probability maintain his customary way of having his cobbler replace a worn leather heel with a new leather heel, you see.”

“Yes I follow you. And, if I may I’ll point out the fact that the field hands working for Fleming all wore rubber boots. This allowed them to wash away mud and manure from the fields .

As we know Albert Miller entered the house, but it was not he that left the heel imprint because he was wearing boots,” said Morgan.

“Really? That’s the way you see it?,” asked Basham.

“Of course.”

“May I remind you that the murder occurred on a Sunday. Sunday was Miller’s day off. Do you think that a man would wear rubber boots on his day off?”

“Damn it Basham. You think of everything!”.

“Well, right now nothings coming to me as far as being able to identify the killer.”

“Ah, here comes our lunch. Let’s just sit back, put this case out of out minds for a bit and enjoy lunch,” said Morgan.

“Before we eat, make a note to have Fillmore attempt to find out from John Miller, just why his father was at the farm on a Sunday”, said Alistair.

“We both know that it was routine. Fleming insisted that his foreman meet with him on Sunday mornings to get Monday’s assignments.”

“Quite right. Let’s see if we can find out what those assignments were to be.”

******************

Another week went by. At the end of that week Joyce had returned home from Scotland. His Majesty’s Court agreed to hear Morgans appeal setting the court date for Monday, September 3, 1951 and Derrick Fillmore reported to Basil Morgan.

“So?”, asked Morgan, “ What do you have to report?”

“Well sir, you asked me to question John Miller as to why his father went to the farm on Sunday, May, sixteen, back in twenty six. Seems as on that previous Saturday Fleming wanted the tractor washed and cleaned, on Monday,it being muddy. Albert Miller went to the farm the next day, Sunday to get the wheel brush from Fleming. Seems as though the old wheel brush had worn out and Fleming said he would buy a new one, but Albert couldn’t find it in the barn. So he went up to the house and, well, you know the rest,” said Fillmore.

“That’s it? that’s all?”, asked Morgan.

“Yes sir.”

“Very well. Thank you.”

Back at Harrow Alistair sat on the bed as Joyce unpacked her suitcase. “Well love, how did it go?,” he asked.

“Rather well, I’d say. Although paleoanthropology is my field just being at a dig site was invigorating. Unfortunately, there wasn’t too much of Gunnister Man to study. As you know there was a partial skull, fingernails and toenails. Most of the identification made was from the wool clothing he wore at the time of his death. Oddly, as he was found in Shetland his knit wool purse contained coins from the Netherlands and Sweden. The coins were all dated to the sixteen hundreds. He might have been from Shetland, but at the same time Northern Europeans were reported to have traded in that area during that time. So, it’s hard to say what his actual citizenship was at the time of his death. However, I enjoyed myself and I think my written report will please the department head at university.”

“I see, Any idea what he died from love?,” asked Basham.

“No. It could have been from exposure to the cold, or an illness. Whatever caused his death, whoever found him buried him with his belongings,” Joyce replied.

“How deep was his grave?”,asked Alistair.

“It was only approximately thirty inches deep. Whoever buried him was in a hurry, probably because of the cold At the same time the bog might have been nearly frozen,” Joyce answered.

“So you had to dig in a peat bog.”

“No. I went to the bog just to see it and examine it for my report. My work was done mostly in Edinburgh. I didn’t even get my hands dirty.”

“Well, I’m glad that you’re home at last.”

“And, just what have you been doing while I was away working?,” asked Joyce.

“Still chasing ghosts and empty leads in the Mercer case,” said Alistair.

“Please tell me that you are getting close to identifying the real killer.’

“Not as yet love. It’s as if something out of the blue has to hit me in my empty head in order for me to see the way.”

“You have been through these dry spells before. I am sure that this case is no different then the others you have solved.”

“Well either the cases are becoming more difficult or I’m getting too old to think. it’s definitely one or the other.”

“Just be patient dear. You don’t want to rush your investigation and create a clanger.”

“You’re bloody right in that regard. Now, that you’re home what say we dine out this evening?”

“Absolutely. I hope you didn’t expect me to travel home, get off of the train come into the house and then cook supper, did you?”

“Of course not. Besides had you done that, supper would have been beans on toast. We’ll dine out.”

“Let’s go to Jacoby’s,” said Joyce.

“Excellent, I’ll have a nice steak, with wild mushrooms,” Basham replied.

“I’m in the mood for duck confit and afterwards a summer pudding,” Joyce responded.

“Well, since we’re stepping out I must go shave and put on my blue suit. Don’t you think?”, asked Alistair.

“You definitely need to shave. I notice that every time I go away you let yourself go.”

“Actually, I’ve made several attempts to grow a beard. What do you think of the idea? Don’t you think I’d look smashing standing in front of my students as I lectured sporting a van dyke or full beard?”

“Then why haven’t you done it?”

“Because after two days it begins to itch.”

“I see. Suit yourself dear. Now, I must go into London tomorrow,” said Joyce.

“For what purpose?”

“I need to replace the dental picks and scrapers I used in Scotland. I broke one and the other is wearing out.”

“I see. Very well. While we’re there I’ll stop in and see Basil Morgan.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

Henry Bascomb

 

 

After driving into London and leaving the automobile in the car park, Joyce and Alistair walked one city block to the dental supply company located on Whitfield Street. After entering, Basham stood patiently while Joyce examined several dental picks and scrapers. She had to explain to the salesman that she was not a dentist, but a paleoanthropologist that required the instruments in her work. She then asked about a coco bristle tar brush and where she could find one. Advised to go to a paint supply shop she smiled, paid for the dental picks and along with Alistair, left the dental supply company.

As they walked back to the car park Joyce said, “I can very well get what I need back in Harrow. I don’t feel like driving or for that matter walk all around London looking for paint brushes.”

“Suit yourself love. Nonetheless, while we’re here I must stop in and see Basil. I’ll introduce you to him. I think you’ll find him to be rather charming.’

Once again the Basham’s drove through London streets and London traffic finally arriving at Basil Morgan’s Law Office. When inside Alistair introduced his wife to the two women legal aides and then to Basil, himself.

“May I say that it is an extreme pleasure to meet you Mrs. Basham. Your husband has told me many things about you. For instance I understand that you recently worked on the Gunnister Man Project,” said Morgan.

“That’s correct, but I’m afraid that I didn’t have too much to offer in regards to any findings. Actually, what I did was to affirm what had already been discovered.”

“Still, one must consider it to be an honor just to be asked to join in the research,” Morgan responded.

“Yes. I didn’t think of it that way, but thank you,’ Joyce replied.

“So. Alistair, I’m glad you came in today. I have a report from Fillmore. He told me that after speaking to John Miller he was told that his father, Albert Miller went to the farm house on the Sunday that Fleming was killed to get a wheel brush. Miller was supposed to wash the tractor on Monday morning,” said Morgan.

Basham sat up in his chair. “Wheel brush? Wheel brushes come in different sizes. Was there any mention of the size of the wheel brush?,” asked Alistair.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“It could be the missing murder weapon, particularly if the handle was twenty inches or longer,”said Basham.

“Do you think so?”, asked Morgan.

“Absolutely, old boy. And, since it was nineteen twenty six I’ll wager that the brush was made from hogs hair. Keep in mind that back then there weren’t too many synthetic fibers available.”

“I agree, but was the brush made with Berkshire Hog hair?,” asked Morgan.

“If I may gentlemen, may I say that hog hair brushes are still being used