Episode 5 - Laura II

Cleo was stiff from sleeping on the sofa, but grateful that she had avoided any attempt at conjugal union, admittedly a seldom occurrence as sleep usually took priority. Robert had not married Cleo for her womanliness. She was a trophy won because Cleo was grateful for his friendship. There had never really been anything ‘between them’ after the novelty of Cleo being ‘interested’ had worn off, and in truth, Cleo had never been interested, only accommodating.

***

Cleo should have been starting Friday as a private investigator, but with her office cordoned off that was impossible.

***

Robert did not need to ask Cleo where she had spent the previous night. It was not the first time she had slept on the sofa when grappling with a case. He ate a hasty breakfast and left for his shop. The previous day had not been very successful. He suspected that people bought less when Phillis was serving.

Phillis was such an un-charming person that people were even known to go to the supermarket down the road for their sausages when they knew Phillis was behind the counter, even if it meant confronting Mr Bontemps, who sold himself as French, had even translated his surname, and was surely a look-alike of Uriah Heap.

Bontemps and Phillis would have made a pretty pair, had not Bontemps proclaimed a preference for his own gender (whatever that was), so matchmaking would be wasted on him. It was time for Robert to ditch Phillis, but pity seemed to be taking precedence over common sense.

***

Robert had not been able to get away immediately to survey the murder scenario in Cleo’s office, and he was not curious to see Laura Finch dead in a pool of her own blood. Robert was not squeamish - a butcher could not afford to be – but he did not need a dead Laura Finch in his life.

Now he wondered how Bontemps would react to Laura Finch's murder. According to Cleo, who had been informed by Dorothy, Bontemps had adored Laura and made no secret of the fact. Robert supposed she didn't frighten him, as young women probably did. Cleo had told Robert that mature ladies often feel safer with men who are not interested in having relationships with them and are flattered by what they experience as unconditional devotion.

Phillis, who had succeeded in charming the equally un-charming organist, Mr Morgan, was dropping hints that she would soon be marrying him. Mr Morgan, an irrepressible Welsh immigrant living above Robert’s shop in his flat, thought of himself as a ladies’ man. He had developed an intense interest in Phillis and she had developed an intense interest in his flat.

There was nothing Robert could do to prevent Phillis living with Mr Morgan, though the idea of having such an ugsome person under his roof did not appeal to him at all, especially as she was going to lose her job as soon as Cleo had found someone suitable to take her place. He wondered if Gareth Morgan realised that Phillis was plotting her takeover of the flat. He had escaped the clutches of one woman, his mother, only to fall victim to another, who could not by any stretch of the imagination be counted as a member of the fair sex, having extremely large feet, an unnecessarily florid, if well-scrubbed complexion and no dress sense whatsoever.

***

Cleo made fresh coffee. The enticing aroma must have wafted into Jessica's room because she presently appeared wrapped in the counterpane from the bed, fetched herself a mug from the kitchen and served herself with coffee. Cleo’s main goal of the day would be to get Jessica out of the cottage. To that end she went out into the back garden and  phoned HQ in Middlethumpton.

"Any news, Gary?"

"The forensics will be finished at the bungalow by midday. Jessica can go back there then. The key will be back under its flowerpot."

“Did Jessica get in that way? The back door was unlocked when we went there."

"There were fingerprints on the front doorknob matching those on the glass Miss Finch had been drinking out of. Maybe she just opened it to look outside and then went out into the garden through the back door to get some air. Smokers like fresh air, but constantly pollute it."

"Since Laura left doors and windows open, the only way of dining out would be to ask Jessica."

"Forensics now move around with sophisticated electronic equipment,” said Gary. “No more waiting for a week till prints are identified. The tapes are put on a kind of copier and the rest is done automatically via the internet."

"Wow!"

“Not that it matters how she got in. The young woman was there and you fortunately found her, even if I have to be doubtfully about the legality of your visit to the bungalow,” said Gary.

“Are you going to charge us with breaking and entering, Gary?”

"Not this time because we're lucky you arrived at the bungalow when you did.”

“We will say we were watering the plants, and we did, Gary.”

“So you did. There are no signs of Jessica having searched the house. We've removed all the documents. I think you should come in and look at them with me. Maybe you can spot something."

"This afternoon all right?"

"See you then."

Gary rang off and Cleo went back into the cottage and told Jessica she could go back to Laura's place at lunchtime.

"OK," said Jessica. “Was that your cop?”

“Yes,” said Cleo. “I had to phone him since he did not phone me.”

“He’s very sexy,” Jessica said. “I’m not surprised you two-time Robert.”

“Who says I do that, Jessica?”

“The look on your face,” said Jessica.

***

Jessica was a person of few words. Cleo was not sure that quizzing her would be of any use right now. But her hand had trembled. That was a sign of some kind of emotion rather than the play-acting she had presented them when she had been discovered at the bungalow.

***

“He’s keen on you,” said Jessica.

“I know,” said Cleo.

“You sleep with him, don’t you?”

“Yes, but keep that to yourself.”

“OK. I wouldn’t spoil your fun.”

Cleo and Jessica were still having breakfast when the phone rang. It was Edith Parsnip. She was in quite a state.

"It's Edith. Cleo, I'm standing in front of Dorothy's cottage with Dorothy. The front door is wide open. We're afraid to go in. Can you come?"

"No, I can't right now, Edith."

"What should we do?"

"Don't go in, for heaven's sake. You don't know what you'll find. I'll get Gary Hurley on his mobile. He'll get there or send someone immediately. Just hang on."

"Oh dear."

Cleo hoped the two women would do what she had told them.

She caught Gary in his office and told him about the open door.

"I'm on my way. Will I see you there?"

"No. I'm just having breakfast with Jessica."

"OK. Got the message. I'll report back. I'll take a policewoman with me. She can stay with the ladies and make herself useful."

"OK."

***

Cleo thought she owed Jessica an explanation.

"Burglars don't usually leave front doors open," said Jessica. She was more animated than she'd been up to now. "There's something foul going on in this dump of a village."

“Open doors, for example?”

“That’s how I entered the bungalow. It was open I didn’t even need the key.”

Jessica thought for a moment before saying "You're a private detective, aren't you Lady?"

"More of an investigator. You can call me Cleo."

"OK. I'll answer your questions now. I feel sort of safe here."

Considering Robert had felt so unsafe that he'd hidden all the sharp knives and taken a solid brass poker to bed, that was rich coming from Jessica. But he was afraid of Jessica and Cleo did not know what Jessica was afraid of, so she asked her.

“That guy next door is creepy, Cleo.”

“Betjeman? Sure. Anything you can think of that would be relevant to that guy or Laura would be a help, Jessica.”

"How do I know what's relevant?

“I’d have to decide that,” said Cleo.

Jessica gave the situation some more thought before confessing that she had lied about Laura.

“Did you also lie about yourself, Jessica?”

“Not really. My whole childhood is swathed in fog.”

“So what really happened between you and Laura?"

"Now she's dead, I don't suppose it matters any more what I say about her."

"You didn't kill her, did you Jessica?"

"No. But I know enough about her to be quite glad she’s dead."

"For example?"

"That her career as a cruise entertainer was short-lived."

Cleo felt a warning shiver go down her spine.

"The shipping company left her stranded in Bermuda."

"Wow! Why?"

"Because she had been entertaining men in her cabin. Passengers. "

"Paying customers?”

Jessica nodded.

“And someone reported her?"

"I suppose so. Someone's wife, probably."

"So she was soliciting in her spare time. That fits her sickening holier than thou attitude," said Cleo. “Hypocrisy all the way.”

"She’d found herself a more lucrative hobby than singing. Clients tied to unloved wives on cruises booked to patch up marriages were hungry for some kind of subversive thrill. Laura was onto a good thing."

Cleo ignored the cynicism in Jessica's voice. She had felt the need to tell a story that plainly disgusted her. What else did she know? There were still decades in Laura Finch's life that were unaccounted for. It was becoming obvious that Laura had completely reinvented herself.

"So she was stranded in Bermuda and penniless."

"But she had to survive somehow. No chance of working as a singer of English ballads and operetta, so she did what she'd been doing part-time on the cruise liner. She found employment in a brothel and worked as a prostitute."

Cleo was genuinely shocked. Everything Laura Finch had said about her former life was a pack of lies.

"But she was careless. She got pregnant, " Jessica continued.

"And had no way of knowing who the father was, I suppose," said Cleo.

"No. But she found at least one. She went to one of the town hall functionaries who had been a regular client of hers and told him he was responsible."

"Surely he didn't believe her."

"He has to. He offered to support her if she did not reveal his visits to that brothel. They even made a written contract."

“That’s blackmail, Jessica.” Cleo wondered if it would come to light when the documents taken from the bungalow were scrutinized. But they would find evidence only if Laura had not been cunning enough to cover her movements, and after hearing what Jessica had to say, Cleo thought Laura had been clever enough to cover all traces of her past activities. How would Dorothy react to this information?

"So she farmed you out to foster parents."

"Not me. Jason, soon after he was born. Later she had a short fit of guilty conscience and went to see him. The money for his upkeep and education came from the father she had chosen for him."

"So where do you come in?"

Jessica looked at Cleo as if she were trying to decide whether to say any more. She had not admitted that she was Laura's child. She was younger than Jason. What if….?

"It's not a pretty story, Jessica."

"It gets uglier."

“How do you know all this?”

“I put two and two together,” said Jessica. “And Jason told me a lot.”

Cleo wondered if she would ever be able to tell Dorothy Price about Laura Finch's real past.

"Do you want to tell me the rest of the story?"

"I texted Jason last night and I think he'll be coming this afternoon if there are no hitches."

"I’d rather hear the rest from you."

"By the time we were old enough to understand why we had been deserted, she had left Bermuda without leaving a forwarding address, and it was only when Jason got to London last year that he found out for sure what had become of her. She had come home to roost."

"When you say we, you mean you and Jason, don't you, Jessica?"

"It's all a bit more complicated than that."

Cleo decided that Jessica’s identity had not really been established through that photo from Bermuda.

“If I’ve understood correctly, Laura got pregnant again while she was working as a hooker.”

"Let's put it this way. I was registered as Jason's sister. That way, Laura got double the support for Jason."

“Do you know for certain that you were born to Laura?”

"Look, lady," said Jessica, reverting to the tone she had taken the day before at Laura's Bungalow. "I'm legally his sister and any attempt to disprove that would be nasty for all of us. I simply don’t know if Laura was my mother."

"I don't think you understand, Jessica. I consider this conversation to be completely confidential and would never dream of making difficulties for you. Judging by the rest of the story, registering you as Jason’s sister was a sensible thing for Laura to do and we can assume that she was your mother. DNA tests will prove it."

Jessica regretted having said anything at all, but Cleo's obvious empathy had loosened her tongue. Cleo was wondering who Jessica really was if she wasn't Jason's sister.

"My father - if it was my father - was the fisherman who found me on his boat. The guy Laura was blackmailing would hardly be likely to risk visiting his son, would he? She might not even have known who fathered up. We probably had different fathers if not different mothers."

“That civil servant guy was probably anxious to save his respectability, like all men who side-track respectable society in some way."

“Men are often prepared to pay the price for their thrills, Cleo,” said Jessica, who  had overcome her fear that Cleo could tell on her. “I don’t know how many ‘fathers’ she was blackmailing. The men involved would not have known about one another and I had virtually no contact with her, ever.”

“But Laura had made sure she knew who those men were so that she could play her extortion game.”

"Laura might have been nervous about what she was doing, though Jason said that having scruples was totally out of Laura’s character. When the fisherman turned up with me and said he'd found me on his boat I was only wrapped in a sheet and there were traces of blood on the deck and the wooden jetty the boat was tied to. But the story went round that she just happened to be visiting Jason."

"So you think she gave birth on that boat and then paid Jason's foster parents to take you in."

"Yes, but that’s not all, Cleo."

“Not all?”

“I believe I was a twin. My sister was brought to my foster parents that same day. By the time I was old enough to be conscious of her, she had gone.”

“And you didn’t know where she was?”

“Not until much later,” said Jessica.

"So Laura could have been the mother of twins, couldn’t she?"

"I don't know. That might have been why she visited Jason. To give birth secretly. No one ever talked about it."

"Of course, employees do take bribes if they are dishonest enough and can get away with it, and there is a family likeness between you and Laura."

"Look Lady, that's the last thing I want said about me. Can't we just leave it at that?"

It was obvious that Jessica was not going to say anything more. Cleo changed her tactics.

"Didn't Jason try to make contact with his mother later?"

"He found a UK address for her – the family home round here somewhere -  and wrote to her, but his letters were returned unopened and stamped 'recipient unknown'. He was studying and didn't have the money to come over on what might be a wild goose chase. He only made a serious attempt get in touch with her when he got to London, but she was still in denial."

"Did he ask her about your origin?"

"Yes. She refused to tell him anything."

"So what brought you to Britain?"

"Jason said it would be safer for me in London or even here in Upper Grumpsfield. I married a white guy named Jim in Bermuda. He was violently jealous. The coloured men there were envious of him because I looked quite European by local standards. Then he started to beat me. The old story. He didn't mean it. Apologized, then next day hit me again, and so it went on, though he soon stopped apologizing. Wife-beating is commonplace in his circle. It’s a perverse confirmation of masculinity. I was too scared to leave him. He said he would kill me if I did."

"I went through that, too, Jessica. My ex kicked my unborn baby dead and later died in a prison brawl.”

Jessica took Cleo’s hands and said how horrible that must have been. To Cleo’s surprise, her eyes filled with tears.

"Jason organized a one-way night flight for me. I slipped out of the house when Jim was too drunk to notice, hitched a lift to the airport, and got on that plane."

"You had taken a risk even communicating with Jason."

"I did that through a friend. We didn't have a telephone. He only let me out of the house to get food. If it took me longer than he thought it would, he beat me."

No wonder Jessica looked older than her years. Her skin was almost translucent and she was as thin as a rake.

"When I first saw you, I thought you were on drugs," Cleo said.

"I'm not. I don't know why I smoke, either. Something to hold on to, perhaps."

"Well you're among friends now. I'm going to stick my neck out and say that something from Laura's past could have caught up with her. We'll have to find out what. If Jason doesn't turn up today you should stay here with us."

"Thanks, Cleo. I appreciate the kindness you are showing me and I'm sorry I was so awful yesterday, but I’ll go back to the cottage. The shock of discovering that the person you want to make some sort of truce with is dead really stunned me.”

"I could see that."

"We'd had a couple of phone calls earlier this year. Not friendly, just business-like."

Cleo wondered if Jessica had threatened to blackmail Laura.

“So you didn’t see her at all?”

“No. I wasn’t lying when I said that.”

“Did Jason tell you where she lived?”

“Yes. He had been to Lower Grumpsfield and sung at a talent show. He really didn't mind coming joint first, but Laura did. After that the contact with her broke down. She didn’t tell anyone that she was going to sell her old family home. That was another shock. Jason was furious because she didn't consult him, but the deed had been done. That's how Laura was. Ruthless and uncaring."

"Knowing what I know now, I would say that Laura was also selfish and wanted a fresh start for herself. She almost succeeded in become established here as a retired singer with bags of success to look back on. Contact with her old accompanist  - the lady I was with yesterday - authenticated it all for her, but Dorothy never really liked her. Although Laura lived in Lower Grumpsfield until very recently, she was drawn to our village, and knowing Dorothy was somehow her way of proving to herself that she was genuine."

"And a way of testing whether her story would be believed. She went to jail, too. Did I mention that?"

"No."

"I said it would get uglier."

“Why did she go to prison?”

“Prostitution? Blackmail? Murder? Take your pick.”

“I don’t think she can have murdered anyone, Jessica.”

“Why not? She was capable of anything.”

"Well, keep that knowledge to yourself, if only out of respect for the dead."

That made Jessica laugh for the first time since Cleo had met her. She laughed until the tears rolled down her face.

"Respect? That's really ironic, Cleo."

"This is a small place, Jessica. People thought they knew Laura Finch quite well. We'll have to try to keep her reputation intact. There's no point in taking revenge on someone who's dead."

Cleo wondered if Laura's past might have become known to someone. Was she being blackmailed? Was one of those chorus women capable of blackmail, or even murder?

“I just have one more question, Jessica.”

“OK.”

“Do you know where your twin is?”

“No.”