The Mystery of the Balding Man
By IanG
Britain, 1923
It looked as if God had taken the land, in his hand, and crunched it up like paper. There were undulations in white sea cliffs, ridges and valleys leading inland. Gorse bushes with golden blossoms clung to grassy slopes. Out at sea, a small fishing boat was making its way home. Its wake looked like a white furrow. Two dolphins, a mother and calf, followed it. The young skipper smiled as they lept from salt water. On a clear day, you could see the coast of France.
The boat reached land at a seaside town. Its skipper began unloading his catch. His name was Nye ap Morgan. Men came to collect his bounty. Nye greeted them and asked after their families. Gravel crunched under his boots. He and other men picked up boxes of bullet shaped mackrel and carried them to a group of women. These women started gutting the fish. Nye hoped he would get a good price for the catch as he was saving up to get married. Summer air smelt of fish but Nye was accustomed to that. He watched his footing on slippery decking.
Then a firework rose from the town and exploded high above. This was followed by loud ringing of a bell. Nye had been about to lift another box. He spun round and ran off as fast as he could. His helpers knew what that ment and so carried on. Nye worked on the local lifeboat and those noises signalled a callout.
Nye soon reached the lifeboat station. It looked like a giant shed with a ramp plunging from its doors to the beach. Powerful horses were being hitched to the open boat, "Blue Dolphin." Some were brown, a rich shade that caught summer light. Others were mostly black with white foreheads. Nye raced past them, grabbed a lifejacket and, being dressed for the sea already, hurled himself into the long hull. Soon he and his crewmates were afloat and rowing hard. Another man explained the situation they were heading into.
"Two bridwatchers were on a cliff Nye. They were watching ravens and falcons that nest there. Then they saw a small open boat out at sea.It looked like it was low in the water. There was one man on board and he was bailing water out of the hull. The birdwatchers were afraid he'd sink so they ran and called us."
"Ah, I see."
Coastal sea was bright blue in places but a deeper shade in others. Wavelets patterned the surface. A wedge tailed raven circled over the boat, flew upside down for a few seconds, then righted itself. Cox shouted "there he is, over to starborad!" His men turned their craft around, saw for themselves and headed for a white rowing boat. Their information had been accurate. A soaking man stood in the vessel, frantically bailing water out of it with a tin bucket. This man was middle aged and going bald.He was fighting a loosing battle.Nye wondered if the boat would sink in front of them.
Blue Dolphin halted alongside the smaller boat. Cox called to the balding man and asked if he needed help.
"No, no I don't need your help," came the reply. "I'm sorry I've troubled you."
Nye felt surprised at this. It was self evident that Balding Man needed assistance. Most people were glad to see Blue Dolphin and her crew. This person looked alarmed. Nye thought that, had they been on land, Balding Man would've run from the lifeboat crew.
"Are you sure?" Cox asked. "We're from the R.N.L.I. Its our job to help people at sea!"
"No, no, I can make it." His craft lurched alarmingly as he spoke. He threw his arms out and saved himself from falling. Nye thought "come on, come on."
"Sir, I think you need our help," said Cox. "We don't judge you, but we don't want you to drown out here."
Nye wondered if this man had escaped from an asylum. Then he stopped speculating and concentrated on the rescue. The smaller boat lurched again. This time Balding Man got tipped into sapphire blue sea. His fall sent up plumes of spray like melted platinum. He bobbed up with terror written on his face. What hair he had was plastered to his scalp and his eyes were wide with horror. He spat out a plume of sea water and looked like a Renaissance fountain. His arms flailed in panic. "No-o! No-o!" he cried.
Nye was the man nearest to the casualty. He leaned over the side, held out his right hand and bellowed "ho-old on!" Nye's fingers closed around Balding Man's wrist. A crewmate lent a hand and they dragged the casualty on board. His little white boat finally sank. Nye thought "at last! At last!"
*
On shore, in town, there stood several hotels and guest houses. Many were painted white and had small but manicured gardens. Bright red geraniums grew there. A young woman named Cathy Bladen worked as a maid in one such hotel. She had taken on extra shifts for she was saving up to get married. Her fiance was Nye ap Morgan. Cathy sang to herself, a folk song about a woman waiting for her lover. She performed in a local choir and so was practising.
Cathy had to dust furniture in the bedrooms while the guests were out. Brown wood was polished so she could see her face in it. Cotton bed sheets smelt fresh as a spring morning. In one room she had to move a folded newspaper to clean a bedside table top. A picture on printed paper caught her attention. She raised black eyebrows. Cathy picked up the paper and looked closely. Her pulse quickened. She recognised him.
"Oh no," she thought. "Lets 'ope I'm wrong."
*
Nye and his colleagues started rowing back to shore. Wet cotton stuck to his body. Long oars sloshed in perfect rythem. Thinking back to his rescue, Nye remembered one of his favourite hyms.
I am weak but thou art mighty
Hold me in thy powerful hand
There hadn't been time to think during desperate action, but he made the comparison now. He was due to sing that tune with the local choir. One of Nye's crewmates tended to Balding Man. He wrapped a blanket round the casualty, whose teeth were chattering and whose lips were turning blue. Most people would relax at this stage, but Balding Man still looked frightened. If anything his stress was increasing. Nye felt sure something other than the obvious was wrong. Judging by their expressions his companions felt as he did. Any questions could wait until they were on dry land.
Blue Dolphin returned to her station. Her crew disembarked taking Balding Man with them. Their land took them in like a gentle fortress. They felt shingle beneath their feet. Nye heard the call of a raven. He walked past his favourite horse and patted her brown hide. He felt her warm breath, like the touch of a guardian spirit. Cox took Balding Man into a small kitchen at the back of the station. Nye and other crewmen hosed their boat down and mopped up after doing so. Drops of water sparkled on her timber hull.
Nye looked up from mopping. Warm breath caught in his windpipe. Three police officers walked into the station, past ropes and lifebelts. Two wore uniforms. The third wore a suit but was clearly a detective. Nye was unsettled. Why had they come?
"Will you please leave the building gentlemen," said the detective. "I'll explain later."
Nye and his colleagues obeyed. They gathered on brown and grey pebbles, close to the ramp. A gull's grey feather lay near their feet. A woolen jumper looked blue as a cloud at dusk. An older man patted Nye on his right shoulder. Cox emerged and joined his crew. Nye asked "what's happening?" "I don't know," Cox admitted. "Its somethin' to do with our baldin' friend."
That day was warm yet goosebumps rose on the young fisherman's arms. Nye's father was a coalminer. He and his workmates had gone on strike and been on demonstrations against official policies. Policemen hadn't been a welcome sight in those situations. Nye's views were more moderate than his Dad's; even so. Everyone watched the back door of their station.
Grim police officers marched out of the door in question. Those in uniform each gripped an arm of Balding Man's. The detective walked just behind them. Handcuffs glinted on Balding Man's wrists. He shed bitter tears.
Cox began walking alongside their visitors. "What's he done sir?"
"We have reason to think he murdered his wife," came the answer. "He was trying to escape to France when you rescued him. A hair brained scheme but he was in a panic and not thinking clearly. Have you seen a newspaper this morning?"
"Well no, we've bin busy saving people."
Colour drained from Cox's cheeks. He felt as though a large knot was forming in his stomach. He wanted to believe he had mis-heard the other man but quickly realised that he hadn't. He returned to his crew.
To Nye's surprise Cathy arrived at the station, still in black and white uniform. Startled crewmen gathered round, in their back kitchen. They were reflected in a nickle plated kettle. Cathy explained.
"I was dustin' a guest bedroom," she said, "an' I found one of today's papers. That man you rescued had 'is picture on the front cover. I thought I'd seen 'im early in the mornin', as I walked to work. He was gettin' into a small rowin' boat down on the beach. I didn't know then, but he'd stolen it. He looked as if he'd no idea 'ow to handle the thing."
Nye asked "what did the paper say about him?"
"His name is Jeremy Jenas," Cathy explained. "He married a jeweller's daughter. He ran a shoe shop a few miles down the coast from 'ere. It did really well before the war, but now there's a recession, people are out of work an' cuttin' back on things. Business tailed off so Mr Jenas was short of money, wasn't he. He had to lay people off. He tried to invest on the stock market, but he made a bad choice an' lost even more money. His wife, Agnes, had inherited a tidy sum from her father so she bailed him out. He made another investment and, guess what, that went wrong too. The police think they had a blazing row over money, but they're not sure yet.
"They found her body in her own parlour " said Cathy."She'd bin strangled. Her husband's fingerprints were on her neck. The police put out an appeal for information on Mr Jenas, it was in the paper I saw. I heard the bell and firework so I knew you were on a shout and told the police that as well."
Aromas of sausages and bacon lingered. Nye put a warm arm round her. "Well done," he murmured in a soft baritone.
Later Mr Jenas broke down and confessed to killing Agnes. Following his second bad investment he went, cap in hand, to his wife. She wasn't so understanding the second time. Agnes was worried that her money would run out. They had an almighty row over the issue. It ended with him strangling her.
Days passed. Early one evening Nye went over to Cathy's whitewashed house. He went upstairs and changed into formal clothes. They were both due to sing in the choir. The young man strove to concentrate on music, but memories of Mr Jenas kept rising in his mind. When it came to calming himself Mr Morgan was clutching at sand. Nye took shiny cufflinks and tried to fasten them. He had done this many times before, yet now he couldn't. His hands were shaking with rage against the killer. A square cufflink fell to oak floorboards. He cursed aloud, then bent and retreved it.
Cathy opened the bedroom door. "Nye, what's wrong?" she asked.
"I can't get these bloody cufflinks on. Can you help me?"
Cathy came in, past an iron framed bed, and did as he asked. She fastened his links easily. Each had a diagonal brown stripe, the colour of his favourite horse. She looked him in scowling eyes, then spoke.
"He's got to you hasn't he, Mr Jenas I mean," she said.
Nye groaned but knew he couldn't hide it. "Yes," he grunted. "He's vermin Cathy and we saved him"
Cathy's dad had worked on the lifeboat for years. He had now retired. She had often listened to him and his friends discussing their work. She drew on what she had learned from them.
"Nye, you're there to save anyone who needs you," Cathy reminded him. "It wasn't your fault you didn't know that man was a killer. Its somebody else's job to judge 'im an' punish 'im. You're not a mind reader dear."
She pulled his bow tie straight. His shirt was white but lamplight coloured it amber. Then she slid smooth arms around him and drew him up against her. "Everyone on the boat that day 'll feel the same," she assured him. Nye raised strong hands and laid them on her waist, on her pink dress. She knew their shape well. He bent and kissed her. He relaxed and managed a smile.
The young couple went to the local church hall. The pointed arch over its door was a familiar sight. Inside they joined other singers, practised vocal exercises, then walked onto the stage. Sunset coloured curtains flanked them. A large audience sat waiting in front of them. Nye was nervous for he was to go solo on their opening song.
Nye took a deep breath, tried to steady his nerves, then began to sing in a rich baritone.
"Guide me now, oh great redeemer
Pilgrim through this barren land
I am weak but thou art mighty
Hold me in thy powerful hand"
Dinner jacketed men joined in, softly at first, then their voices swelled. Nye became part of a team, and that was how he liked it. Their audience were moved by the hym. Hairs rose on napes of necks. Couples held hands. Children stopped fidgiting. Every ear focused on the tune. All were covered in a warm blanket of sound. When lilting music finished, a wave of applause swept through the austere hall. Clapping people rose to their feet. Nye took his bow with a smile on his lips and a sparkle in dark brown eyes.
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