“What sort of chap would you say Mr. Bowler is?” Val asked.
Simon gave this question some thought. “He’s a bit flighty I would say. A dreamer. There were times I caught him doodling on his work and had to reprimand him.”
“Was he married? Or engaged?” Val wondered.
“No. I think there was someone, but to be honest I didn’t really discuss such personal matters with him. I’ve found over the years, with the young clerks I’ve had here, the best way to deal with them is to be above board and business-like,” Simon explained.
“Sound practice,” Val nodded.
“And Mr. Bowler was no exception. He was a quiet man too. I never heard much from him. But there were certain times where he would come into the office and look as if he hadn’t slept or had a rough time of it the night before. I never asked him about it and he never said,” Simon supplied.
“Thank you, Mr. Eastoft. You’ve been most helpful. If you should hear from Mr. Bowler please let us know,” Val said as they left.
“I will,” he assured them.
???
Val and Felix traveled to Lyle Bowler’s home address only to be told by the landlady that she had not seen him recently and that he left her high and dry owing back rent.
“He owes me two weeks rent, too,” she said indignantly her large bosom spilling over the scooped neckline.
“We can settle the amount owing,” Val said, “provided we can view the room.”
She shrugged. “You’re police ain’t you? How can I stop you?”
She took the bills in hand and showed them the room. It was a small room with a bed, drawers and a bedside table. It looked as if he had cleared out in a hurry. There didn’t appear to be anything left behind that could help them and Val felt intensely annoyed and irritated. A dead end.
“What now?” Felix asked as he picked his way across the room littered with food and scraps.
Val looked about the sparsely furnished room and then focused on the set of dresser drawers. He removed each drawer and turned it upside down. Nothing. Finally, as he came to the last drawer, he pulled it out and saw something hidden inside the drawers on the floor.
“Hold this,” he said, handing the drawer to Felix.
He reached into the cavern and pulled out a piece of paper. On it was a beautifully drawn figure of a woman in pencil. She was naked, reclining, but the face was unmistakably Irene’s. He showed it to Felix who whistled lowly.
“Look at the bottom right corner,” Val directed his sergeant to the picture.
Felix took the paper and nodded. “L. Bowler,” he read aloud.
“He was here,” Val nodded. “He knew Irene Derry and he was pretending to be Simon Eastoft to get what he wanted. All of that I had already guessed, but there still remains two questions.”
“Which are?” Felix wondered.
“Where is he now and is he the killer?”
“Do you think he’s our killer?”
Val tucked the drawing inside his coat pocket. “Well he’s a liar and a pretender. He’s skipped out on his rent and now he’s running. I don’t think much of him. But a killer? That’s a big stretch.”
“And I thought it was agreed that she was a victim of the primrose strangler. Isn’t she, Guvnor?”
Val shook his head. “We have lots of facts before us but nothing for sure is known about the killer. Is Irene another victim, the fourth that we know of? Is she a lone victim of one man who killed her for a crime of passion, and made it look like he was the strangler as you suggested earlier?”
Felix shrugged. “I think Irene is the most difficult victim of all the four victims.”
“How so?”
“She’s too complicated. The other women were straightforward. Decent women caught in the wrong moment.”