Episode 3 - Jessica

Laura's bungalow was at the end of a long avenue of similar bungalows. Upper Grumpsfield had expanded into a dormitory for the nearest town, Middlethumpton, where there was very little building land left, and what there was did not attract private buyers. Laura had bought the bungalow in Lavender Drive secretly, had some renovations done and moved in without telling anyone beforehand. Even Dorothy Price had not been let into the secret.

Laura had achieved a good price for the old family home in Lower Grumpsfield, but she was chaotic. Moving into a smaller place without getting rid of large pieces of furniture from the old family home, great carved pieces that were far too cumbersome for a small bungalow, resulted in squashed conditions exacerbated by Laura’s apparent unwillingness to unpack her removal boxes and put things away. The place was a mess.

"I'll help you to sort it all out," Dorothy had offered. "You can't possibly need all this stuff."

Laura had insisted obstinately that she did and anyway, the mammoth sideboard, ancient upright piano, oversized bookcases and incredibly large bedroom suite were family heirlooms.

***

From the outside, the bungalow looked like all the others in the road, except that Laura’s garden was badly in need of attention. On the veranda at the back of the house Laura had started sorting out things she was planning to give to some charity or other. It was in boxes labelled Charity Shop, Red Cross and Library. A step in the right direction had not the library box become a deposit for empty vodka bottles. The other two boxes not contained anything at all.

The two sleuths went through the routine they had planned, with Dorothy assiduously watering a couple of plants that were more dead than alive, and Cleo waving to her and being invited to go round the back.

The back door, which led straight into the kitchen, was not locked.

"Last time I came here it was wide open, too," said Cleo, “but this time I guess I won't find Laura unconscious after drinking herself into a stupor."

She led the way into the hall, then into Laura's bedroom. Nothing pointed to violence. The bed was unmade, as if Laura had just got out of it.

"What if someone lured her outside?"

"Or she just hadn't made her bed from the previous night?"

"Maybe she went to her death thinking she was just going to meet someone. I wonder who it could have been."

"She complained about the young man next door,” Dorothy said. “She was sure he was stalking her."

Cleo laughed. What would a crazy guy like Betjeman Crighton want with someone like Laura?

"That was Laura's imagination running riot!" Cleo said, but it was weird, all the same. Betjeman Crighton was thought to be unbalanced, or at least a simpleton, and certainly not a ladies’ man.

“Typical Laura!”

Nevertheless, Dorothy was anxious. A serial murderer might knock on her door next. She would have to be on the alert from now on.

"No use speculating, Dorothy."

"But something dramatic must have happened before she met her death."

"I'm sure it did, but the police will have to find out what. I have no resources for that kind of investigation. Maybe they should take a closer look at that Crighton guy."

Dorothy sniffed.

"There's a smell of cigarettes here, Cleo," she said. "I'm sure Laura didn't smoke. Bad for the voice, she used to say."

Dorothy went into the living room and stood so transfixed that Cleo almost knocked her down.

Reclining in an armchair, cigarette burning, bare feet on the coffee table, was a young woman. She was as startled to see the Cleo and Dorothy as they were to see her.

"How did you get in?" she wanted to know. “I heard something, but I thought it was the cat.

“Laura did not have a cat.”

“Past tense, lady?”

"Who are you?"  aid Dorothy.

"That's no business of yours, Mrs…"

"Miss Price. And it is. I'm here to water the plants."

This was not the moment to reveal the true nature of their mission.

"And I've moved in," the woman said.

Cleo withdrew from the room, went live on her mobile phone and sent Gary Hurley a short text: Come to 3, Lavender drive NOW. She fervently hoped he would realize the urgency of her message. To cover her activity she fetched a glass of water from the kitchen and handed it to Dorothy, who had gradually moved nearer to the unfriendly young woman who had continued smoking while staring Dorothy Price out with an expression on her face somewhere between impertinence and defiance.

"Here you are, Dorothy. You'll feel better soon."

Dorothy gave Cleo a weak smile.

"Sit down, Ladies. I don't bite."

It was such an unexpected, extraordinary situation that Cleo and Dorothy were at a loss to know how to proceed. They had made contingency plans for being seen near or even in the bungalow, but it had not occurred to them that someone might already have made herself at home there..

"Are you going to tell us who you are and why you're here?"

"As I said before, it's none of your business."

Cleo realized she would have to play for time. Gary Hurley would come if he got her message. A text reply on her mobile, explained to the woman as a message from her partner, confirmed that Gary was on his way. What they would do until he arrived was unclear. You can't go into a house and detain whoever's there. The woman could get up and leave at any moment.

But she didn't. Whoever she was, she was confident that she was not doing anything wrong.

Dorothy's speculations were going down a different alley. Did the woman know what had happened to Laura? Did she have blood on her hands?

It was clear that the stranger was going to sit it out.

"Why did you come here?" Cleo asked. "And why don't you say who you are?"

Dorothy watched the young woman closely for a minute or so. Her skin was quite dark and her eyes were almost black, but she was painfully thin and looked unhealthy. She might be on drugs, Dorothy speculated. Then, on impulse, she turned to Cleo and whispered that it could be a relative of Laura's, maybe even a daughter. Laura was secretive enough to have concealed the fact.

"Right in one, lady. That's me. Jessica. Satisfied now? I’m related to Laura."

"Jessica? Laura never mentioned you!"

"Past tense again, lady?"

"How are you related? Can you prove it?" said Cleo, ignoring Jessica’s comment.

"Of course I can prove it. Where is she, anyway?"

Cleo did not think any love was lost between Jessica and Laura, so she answered in the same brittle tone.

"She's dead."

Jessica reached down and retrieved a canvas shoulder bag, opened it, rummaged in it till she found a wallet, opened that and took out a photograph. This she handed to Dorothy, who handed it on to Cleo.

“Here’s your proof, Ladies!”

The snapshot showed a young-looking Laura and two small children. It had been taken in strong sunshine on a beach.

"The one on the left is me and the other kid is Jason."

There was no doubt about Laura's identity and Jason looked vaguely like the Jason they knew. Both children were relatively dark skinned. If she were not the little girl on the photo, how did she know that Laura had a child called Jason? There was nothing written on back of the photo.

"Did you live with her?" Cleo asked.  

"No. She visited us now and again. But only for a couple of years, before our daddy was killed on a fishing trip.”

“How do know he was your daddy?” Dorothy asked.

“She slept with him, didn’t she?” retorted Jessica, and Dorothy thought she was trying to shock her.

“Well, she would, wouldn’t she?” Dorothy replied through pursed lips. “Babies don’t grow on trees.”

Cleo gave Dorothy a warning look before asking Jessica to carry on with her story.

“After that she just sent money through a bank for our keep and never wrote or came anywhere near us. Our Daddy was a fisherman. That's how he earned a living. We lived with his sister."

How could Laura have kept so many things a secret for so long? And why? Cleo was not even sure she believed the woman. The photo with two little kids at Laura’s side didn't prove they were both her children. Laura had never mentioned a daughter. But then, she hadn't mentioned a son, either.

A few minutes later Gary turned up. Cleo went to the door and explained what had transpired.

"I won't ask why you are here. But I can guess. You're nosey-parkering, Cleo Hartley. Or do you call it investigating?"

Cleo could not miss the sarcasm in Gary's voice. He was angry that she was meddling in something as serious as murder.

“Thanks for coming, Gary.”

“Rather me than Robert? I'm not knocking your methods, Cleo, but this is a police matter."

Cleo decided to stick to the story she and Dorothy had concocted in case of emergency.

"Dorothy wanted to water the plants. I came with her for moral support."

Gary Hurley laughed unpleasantly.

"Don't talk about morals, Cleo, or I might start asking pertinent questions."

"Well, all right then. We wanted to see if Laura had been killed here."

"That's more like it. And had she?"

"No."

"What a pity. That would have saved a lot of police time."

"But she might have been woken and coerced or cajoled into going out of the house."

"But not in her night things. She was fully dressed when you found her, Cleo."

"If she knew the person who woke her and decided to go with him, that would explain why she was dressed," Cleo snapped.

That was an intelligent deduction. Gary decided he'd been too hard on Cleo.  

"So you think we should be looking for someone she knew?"

Cleo nodded and led the way into the living-room.

"This is Jessica Finch, a relative of Laura Finch's. And this is D.I. Inspector Hurley of Middlethumpton police."

Gary Hurley looked startled, which gave Cleo great satisfaction. Gary did not waste time on niceties.

"Really! Where were you yesterday, Miss Finch?"

"This lady here just asked me that. Why is it so important?"

"Your relative was murdered yesterday."

Without any sign of shock or sorrow, Jessica retorted with "These ladies told me she was dead. What's it to me?"

She dealt herself another cigarette. Her hand was trembling slightly as she struck a match. That did not escape Cleo.

"And what have these ladies got to do with it?" Jessica continued, blowing smoke in their direction.

"I found the body in my new office, Jessica."

Dorothy was perturbed by the woman's frigid reaction to the news. Surely her mother dying should have stirred some kind of emotion.

"I knew Laura Finch well," said Dorothy, for something to say.

"I'm sure you didn't."

"Not as well as I thought, it seems. She didn't tell me about her children."

"She was a selfish old bat."

Had Jessica implied therewith that she was Laura’s daughter?

"Don't talk badly of the dead," rebuked Dorothy, who had taken a thorough dislike to this rude person.

"What difference does it make to me whether she's alive or dead?"

"You came here. You must have wanted to see her," said Cleo.

"I wanted to get some cash out of her."

"So you haven't really moved in, have you?" said Dorothy.

"I just said that to get you worried. But since the old girl is dead, I'll stay here for a bit."

"I don't think you will, Miss Finch. We'll be cordoning the place off within the next hour," Gary Hurley informed her.

"And where am I supposed to go?" asked Jessica. "Can’t I stay here for a day or two, and then move on? She'd have given me enough cash to do that, and more. She wouldn't have wanted me hanging around, spoiling her life."

"I don't think you've got it quite right as far as Laura is concerned," said Dorothy, though she privately thought Jessica had summed up the situation rather well.

“I bloody well have,” said Jessica. “You’d understand if you knew what she was really like.”

“I knew her as a student,” said Dorothy. “I only remember that she was ambitious and a bit egocentric.”

Jessica gave Dorothy's words some consideration before coming to a decision. Cleo wondered why she was hesitating. The woman was putting on too cool an act.

"Of course I’ve got it right. We were millstones round her neck. Jay told me all about that talent show. How she had told everyone he was her nephew, and how an old woman recognized the likeness."

"I was that old woman," said Dorothy. "And I was so disgusted that I didn't speak to Laura for weeks."

"Sorry, I'm sure."

"But she never even mentioned you," said Cleo. "Can you think of a reason for that?"

"Not offhand," Jessica said.

Dorothy thought Jessica's attitude confirmed her identity. Laura had been direct to the point of rudeness and always spoken her mind, however hurtful it was to her victims.

"Will you want to identify Laura Finch?" Gary asked Jessica. He had listened carefully to the conversation. This young woman was as hard as nails.

"No I won't. I've no idea what she looked like. The last time I set eyes on her I was about 4 years old."

"So why are you here now, apart from wanting to get money out of her?" Gary probed.

"Jason told me to come here."

"And where is he now?" Cleo asked.

"In London. He's decided to work there. He's doing auditions for musicals."

"I’m sure he'll be successful," said Dorothy. "He has a beautiful singing voice."

"And what brought you to this country, Jessica?" Cleo asked.

"Circumstances."

"Did you visit Jason three days ago, Jessica?"

"I could have."

Cleo nodded in Gary Hurley's direction. The women Julie had seen with Jason could have been her. He reacted immediately.

"We'll need a photo of you for our records," he said.

"She can take one with her mobile," Jessica said, looking at Cleo.

Cleo made several snapshots and on the pretext of getting a drink sent one of them to Julie in the hope that she could identify her. They would soon know whether Jessica was the mysterious woman.

She was.

But that didn't confirm her identity, Cleo mused, before reaching a rather risky decision.

"You're welcome to stay with us tonight, Jessica."

"I was about to make the same suggestion," said Dorothy.

"I'll be OK, thanks."

"You can't sleep here until the forensic team has done its job," said Gary. "I thought I'd made that perfectly clear."

***

It was a difficult situation. Gary had no concrete reason to detain Jessica and she had to leave Mrs Finch’s house for forensics to collect any available evidence, but he did not want Cleo or Dorothy to put themselves at risk trying to do the right thing. Somebody had committed Laura’s murder. There was a remote chance that whoever had done it might have just wanted to make it difficult for Cleo to start her business as an investigator, but that would not point to Jessica as a suspect. It might even have been a gruesome joke to deposit Mrs Finch in Cleo’s office, or it might simply have been the disposal of a persona non grata who had to be dumped somewhere.

Was Cleo unaware of any rivals she may have had in the business? Male detectives who did not want a woman on their pad taking custom they wanted for themselves.  He would ask Cleo about recent cases at her agency. Another problem was that if Jessica really was who she said he was it was possible that she was also in danger if left to her own devices.

"It really won't be a problem for you to stay with us, Jessica. Robert will be there, if anyone tries to get at you."  

"Who's Robert?" Jessica wanted to know.

"My husband-to-be," Cleo told her.

“Don’t you sleep with this sexy cop?” said Jessica.

“That’s irrelevant, Jessica.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell on you,” said the young woman, smirking.

Dorothy looked consternated whilst Cleo was determined to behave as if Jessica had not stumbled on the truth.

"That's settled then, Gary. Jessica can sleep in my spare room. I don’t anticipate any problems."

"And I shall be quite all right in my cottage," Dorothy insisted. "I'll make sure all the doors and windows are locked and arm myself with a poker and toasting fork."

"I don't think that would be an effective defence, Miss Price. Is there anywhere else you could stay tonight?"

"I only have room for one guest, I'm afraid," said Cleo.

"The Barkers next door have their family staying, so their house is already overcrowded," said Dorothy. "I could ask at the vicarage. They are good friends. I'm sure they'd take me in, though I must say that I think you're making an unnecessary fuss."

"No, Miss Price. You have been seen together with Miss Hartley. It's just a sensible precaution until we have solved the crime."

"But that could take weeks."

"By tomorrow we'll have things under control here."

Cleo thought Gary was being too optimistic. No one had a clue as to who was responsible for Laura Finch's murder and no idea where it had taken place.

***

“Can I just have a word with you on our own, Cleo?” Gary said.

“Sure.”

She led the way into the kitchen.

“Have you had dealings with the Norton brothers recently?” Gary said to Cleo’s surprise. She had been expecting some kind of intimacy.

“No. Are they in or out of prison?”

“Out.”

“Why do you need to know?”

“Because they leased that office of yours before you, Cleo.”

“I know that. They left it clean and empty.”

“And you’ve had no contact with them?”

“No. But they probably knew about the loose window catch.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

***

Back in Laura’s living-room, Cleo explained that Gary had been asking about someone she had helped to catch a while back.

"Pack your bag for day or two, Dorothy,” Gary instructed.

“We’ll take Jessica to your cottage, Cleo, then I’ll take Dorothy to the vicarage and explain the situation.”

“I can still talk. Gary,” Dorothy retorted.

On second thoughts, Jessica, you can drive to police headquarters with me and make a short statement, and then I'll drop you off at Miss Hartley's cottage for the night. Are you willing to go along with that plan?"

"Do I have any choice?"

"Not really. It’s either Miss Hartley’s cottage or an arrest cell at HQ. Dorothy will go along a chaperone, won’t you, Dorothy?"

“What about the vicarage?”

“You can phone and say you need a bed for the night.”

“Edith Parsnip will want to know why.”

“Just tell her you’ll explain later.”

“If you think so, “ said Dorothy, who was excited about the plan but did not want to give Gary satisfaction by showing it.

Jessica shrugged her shoulders once more. Her own plans were in tatters thanks to Laura Finch's untimely death. No point in arguing with the police. They always won in the end unless you found a way to trick them.

"I can hear a car parking in the drive. That'll be the forensic team. I don't think they'll need more than 24 hours, Miss Finch. Then you can use this place if you want to, assuming it’s legal, of course."

Jessica shrugged her shoulders, lifted her backpack onto her shoulder and moved in the direction of the hallway.

"If anything appears even only slightly suspicious, please phone me immediately. Cleo, you have my mobile number. Miss Price might need it, too."

"No thank you! I haven't got one of those contraptions yet," said Dorothy.

"You should get one. Then you would be easier to reach."

"I'm not sure I want that."

"Well, think about it," said Gary, who was used to that reaction from older people.

"You can reach Mr Hurley on his mobile from your home phone, too, Dorothy."

"I'd forgotten that. Okay, Mr Hurley, I'll make a note of it."

Gary Hurley smiled inwardly. What a quaint person Dorothy Price was. But tough. He was sure she'd fight it out with anyone who dared entered her cottage. He led the way out of Laura’s bungalow through the front door.

As Gary escorted the three women out, the forensic experts moved in with their tackle. Gary gave them some brief instructions to supplement the short text he had written telling them to come. At HQ they had known that it was urgent because he had sent the text straight to the pathology lab and written in capitals. There was nothing more he could do at Number 3, Lavender Drive. He took Jessica’s backpack to put it in the car boot and opened a rear door of his car for Jessica. Once closed, the door would not open from the inside. No point in taking risks. Jessica might be considering doing a bunk, especially if she were guilty. But she only stared out of the car window. Things would have been simpler if Jason had been around, she reflected, though having him around was not something she cherished.  Dorothy sat in the front passenger seat. Gary was wearing a very beguiling after-shave. If she were only a bit younger…

***

Cleo walked away from Laura Finch's bungalow. The confrontation with Jessica had overshadowed the tragedy of Laura's fate and Gary had asked Dorothy to chaperone the young woman. Cleo was on the way home to Robert and she was jealous of Dorothy being near Gary when she wanted to be.

“Get a life, Cleopatra,” she admonished herself.