Johnny Swanson - Eleanor Updale [75]
‘Well, I know that my mother didn’t kill Dr Langford for a start—’ He stopped suddenly, remembering Olwen’s reaction to unexpected news. ‘Oh, Mrs Langford. I’m sorry. Forgive me. Did you know? Your husband is dead.’
She didn’t raise her head, but nodded, and whispered, ‘Yes, Johnny. I know.’
‘He was murdered, Mrs Langford. While you were in France—’
‘In France?’ She paused and mumbled, ‘Oh yes …’
Johnny was getting excited and talking more quickly. ‘And the police think my mother did it. But she didn’t, and you can tell them she didn’t. The police won’t take any notice of me. But they’ll listen to you. You know she’d never do a thing like that, don’t you?’
Mrs Langford said nothing.
‘Help me, Mrs Langford. Tell the police it was nothing to do with my mother. You must know it wasn’t. And you must have some idea who it was. I’ve worked that out too. It must have been somebody who knew about the BCG. Was it the Umckaloabo man? Was it somebody here? There was a Welshman who warned me to stop looking for you. Is it him, Mrs Langford? Did he kill your husband? Is that why he’s hiding you here? To keep you quiet?’
Mrs Langford pulled Johnny close to her and whispered urgently, ‘Johnny, you’re the one who had better keep quiet, or you are going to make things very difficult for both of us.’ She split her pile of papers in two and handed him half. ‘Come on. Help me put these out on the seats, and I’ll try to explain.’
Johnny took a look at the heading on the top sheet. It read:
THE STAFF OF CRAIG-Y-NOS PRESENT
CINDERELLA
He understood now why the nurse had told Olwen she’d be missing ‘fun and games’. ‘A pantomime? Is there going to be a pantomime?’ he asked.
‘Yes, Johnny. Tonight everyone at Craig-y-Nos will be in this hall. It’s a special treat. Now, come on. I haven’t got long to finish getting things ready.’
They walked between the rows putting out the programmes, and Mrs Langford began. ‘As you know, my husband was doing some important work to do with TB. One of his old students, Dr Howell, was producing the BCG vaccine for him – here, in the laboratory.’
Dr Howell. Johnny had heard that name just a few minutes earlier. Olwen had been wearing his coat and shoes.
Mrs Langford continued: ‘My husband got him some of the original culture, and told him how to do it.’
Johnny’s mind ran on. ‘And then Dr Howell got jealous, and killed your husband so he could pretend the vaccine was all his own work.’
‘Oh, Johnny, what a clever boy you are,’ said Mrs Langford. ‘But it was worse than that. You see, Dr Howell wanted to sell the vaccine.’
‘Like the Umckaloabo man? The man who put that advert in the paper!’
‘Yes, Johnny. Just like him. But of course Dr Howell couldn’t advertise BCG openly because it was against the law for him to have it. So he planned to frighten people into thinking their children might die if they weren’t immunized, and then to charge them a fortune to buy the BCG secretly. He was going to target rich people. He knew they’d pay him a lot of money if he promised not to tell anyone that they’d used an illegal vaccine.’
‘So it was a kind of blackmail too?’ said Johnny. ‘Dr Langford wouldn’t have liked that.’
‘No indeed,’ said Mrs Langford. ‘My husband wanted the vaccine given free to all children, just as it is in France. He was terribly shocked when he found out about Dr Howell’s plans. He protested, and he paid with his life.’
Johnny interrupted her. ‘So Dr Howell was waiting for your husband when he got back from France. Waiting to kill him, so he couldn’t spoil his plans. I guessed ages ago that it must be something like that,’ he said triumphantly. ‘I tried to tell the police, but they just wouldn’t listen. But surely you could have told them?’
‘No, Johnny. I haven’t been at liberty for a moment since my husband died. This man, this Dr Howell … he watches over me all the time. I have to stay in his cottage overnight, and in the daytime