The Case Of The Berkshire Hog, Robert F. Clifton [books to read to be successful .TXT] 📗

she do?, she asked him.

He told her to give his name as living there and since he was learning the broom makers trade to give that as his occupation.”

“What happened to Dorothy Dodd?”, asked Morgan.

“Seems she turned to prostitution, caught the lung disease and died in the workhouse.”

“Well done Derrick. Well done,” said Basham.

“Now what?,” asked Morgan.

“Now, it’s on to Barking. Meanwhile let’s try to learn just what Henry Bascomb’s medical condition was enabling him to leave prison,” said Alistair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

Barking To Dagenham

 

Alistair Basham sat at his kitchen table deep in thought.

Spread out in front of him was a map of Essex. With a forefinger he moved it in a straight line from the word Barking to the word Dagenham.”By Jove. The blighter didn’t have to go too far from home to get to Dagenham and the Bonner Slaughter House and Meat Packing Company,” he thought to himself. He made notes in his journal.

The next day at mid-morning Alistair drove along River Road which would take him to the Bonner Packing House. Upon his arrival he asked to see either the owner, or the manager. He was told that the owner was not on the premises and when asked to state his business he informed the female receptionist that it was about an urgent, legal matter. He hadn’t lied. In a few minutes Basham met with a Mr. Harvey Anderson, Manager.

“So, Mr. Basham. What’s this all about?”

“Actually, I’m seeking information about your companies sales, during say, nineteen twenty five to twenty six,” said Basham.

“What product? Ham, sausage, salt pork, bacon?”

“Hogs hair.”

“Hogs hair?”

“Yes. My information is that this company back then just as as now sell hogs hair to different enterprises. What I’m mainly interested in is the sale of Berkshire Boar hair to one Henry Bascomb formerly of Barking,” said Alistair.

“I doubt if we still have that information on file. May I ask why this information is so important?”

“You may. I need the knowledge of any transaction done by Henry Bascomb and the Bonner Company in order to clear the name of a man wrongfully hanged for murder.”

“Blimey! You come right to the point, don’t you?”

“No sense us having a chin wag my good man. A court date is nearly upon us. I don’t have time to piss away.”

“Very well. I’ll see what we have on record, but don’t expect me to find much of anything.”

During the twenty minutes it took Anderson to check his records Basham in an attempt to amuse himself looked at the pictures on the wall, all of which were of pork products. Next, he thumbed through a magazine published for the meat packing industry. He found it boring and placed it back in the magazine rack. Finally, Harvey Anderson came back into the office. “Sorry it took me so long. I did not find any records of sales of hog hairs to one, Henry Bascomb. I did however, find a few sales of boar hair to a Virgil Bascomb,”said Anderson.

“Really now. Are you sure?”, asked Basham.

“I can only tell you what was entered in the books, sir.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong old boy. You see what you just told me has somewhat taken me by surprise.”

“Here, see for yourself. A sale was made to one Virgil Bascomb for a quarter pound of boars hair for the sum of two shillings. The sale was on February 10, 1926,” said Anderson.

“Oh, I believe you my good man. Thank you very much. I’d keep those records handy if I were you. I believe they will be necessary in his Majesty’s Court”, said Basham upon leaving.

As he drove into Barking motoring along Alfreds Way he turned right, found Sutton Road and stopped in front of the house numbered one sixteen. Alistair got out of the automobile and walked to the front door of the home. He stood and knocked. When the door opened he saw a man of approximately in his mid-seventies. “Virgil Bascomb?,”asked.

“Yes.”

“Good day sir. I’m Doctor Alistair Basham. I’d like to talk to you about your brother, Henry.”

“What about him?”

“A few things actually. First, I understand that he was wounded in the Great War.”

“True, although the War Office wouldn’t grant him a pension. Seems they doubted that he suffered from the loss of the lower part of his left leg.”

“Next, that he was a house painter until arrested and sent to prison.”

“Say, hold on. Are you a copper?”

“No indeed. However, my good man I am helping in an investigation where an innocent man was hanged for murder.”

“What’s that got to do with me or Henry?”

“At this time your brother is a suspect in the murder of Roger Fleming.”

“Well, the way I sees it, old Henry is dead so what can you do to him?”

“Clear his name if he’s innocent. Prove that he was a murderer if he’s guilty.”

“Well now, he weren’t no killer, I’d say.”

“Your his brother you would be expected to say that.”

“Old Henry was a hard worker he was. Started out as a house painter, was conscripted and served in His Majesty’s Army then was tossed aside like a piece of rubbish by the War Office.”

“Lot’s of blokes were wounded in the war. Most of them stayed out of prison after-wards.”

“Henry was accused by a balmy, old woman. He never took money from her house.”

“Be that as it may, I have several other questions.”

“Such as?”

“Your brother was relased from London Prison due to a medical problem. Could you tell me what it was?”

“Certainly. His amputated leg. He got an infection and the doctors couldn’t cure it. They sent him home to me. I had to take care of him, provide shelter, food and what have you. I even had to pay for his crutches with my own money.”

“Really?”

“Sure as I’m standing before you.”

“And I understand that he became a broom and brush maker,”said Alistair.

“And a damn good one, if I do say so myself.”.

“Did you also help him with his business?”

“I made deliveries some of the time.”

“I imagine that he was good at his trade,” said Bashm.

“Oh he was, he was. He could sit for hours in the shop making his wares.”

“I imagine that his shop has long been done away with.”

“For business purposes yes. It’s closed up now. Has been for almost twenty years. I left it just the way it was when he died.”

“And that was back in 1930?”

“Correct.”

“I wonder if I may have a look at his work place. I’m sort of a historian when it comes to English handicrafts. I find it amazing that an English craftsman could turn out far better goods then today’s manufacturers.”

“I don’t see why not. Come with me. Keep in mind that it could be a bit dusty after all of these years being shut up.”

“No matter, no matter.”

Basham followed the man to the backyard. There he saw a small, one story outbuilding with one door and a window.

Virgil Bascomb, using a key unlocked the door, then stepped aside allowing Basham to enter.

Alistair looked at the many, glass jars containing what he believed to be hogs and horse hair. Hanging from hooks in the wall were the finished wood handles of different shapes and sizes. On another wall hung what Basham thought were the finished products that were for sale. “I say, did your brother also make the handles as well?,” he asked.

“Oh, yes, and each one was made from White Oak,” Virgil replied.

“Amazing. Well, thank you Mr. Bascomb. You have been of tremendous help. Oh, one more thing if I may. Can you tell me if Henry sold any goods to Roger Fleming?”

“Just once. Fleming ordered brooms and brushes and then refused to pay the agreed upon price. Henry never did business with him again.”

“I see. Thank you.”

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

 

At mid-morning, on a Thursday, Basham took a seat

in front of Basil Morgan who as usual sat at his desk. “Well, what’s on your mind today good doctor?”, asked Morgan.

“Just stopped in to say good-by,” Basham replied.

“Good by? Are you quitting?”

“By all means old boy. You see there’s nothing else I can do or for that matter, offer.”

“I was counting on you Alistair. The court date for the appeal is next week.”

“I suggest that you have it postponed.”

“Why?”

“Because of the new evidence that the police will find after you contact them.”

“What new evidence?”

“Well, let’s see. For one, the murder weapon. They will find it at one sixteen Sutton Road, Barking. It’s a boars hair wheel brush made with white oak. The brush is hanging on the wall of the shop. One can not miss it. The white oak handle has a dark stain. Make sure that it is tested for human blood. Second, the murderer, one Virgil Bascomb, elderly man that he is. You see Henry could not have killed Fleming. Henry was confined to crutches the rest of his life after getting out of prison. He spent most of his time at his work bench making the brooms and brushes he sold either at his shop or by delivering them to patrons in the Barking area.”

“If he was confined to crutches how did he make deliveries?”, asked Morgan.

“Again, we turn to Virgil. He gathered the hogs hair from the slaughter house, gathered white oak for brush handles, made the deliveries and collected the money for the sales.”

“Why would he kill Fleming?”

“Fleming was the type that would place an order and when it arrived refuse to pay the asking price. The vendor then caught with goods unwanted at the time by anyone else would after arguing accept Flemings low payment. Virgil was aware of this because Fleming had done it before and on that Sunday, May 16, 1926 after arguing over the price of a wheel brush, struck and killed Roger Fleming with the wheel brush.”

“What about the missing money from Fleming’s home?”

“Still, in all probability it points to Albert Miller. I assume that after killing Fleming Virgil wouldn’t want to stay too much longer.”

“Anything else?,asked Morgan.

“Other than the fact that Virgil wears rubber heels on his shoes, nothing.”

“Very well. I’ll let you know when the actual court date will be,” said Morgan.

“Why?”

“Don’t you want to be there when we clear Silas Mercer’s name?”

“Not really. You see, my job was to either provide you with a profile of the criminal or with an identity. I believe I’ve done one or the other, mostly the other. So, the way I say it old chap, my job is done. So I say, cheerio, have a nice time in court and I’ll read about it in the newspapers,” said Basham as he shook hands with the barrister.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Publication Date: 05-29-2016

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