Episode 7 - Frederick

Frederick Parsnip emerged from his study. He was depressed about Laura Finch's death. He had sharpened all his pencils several times and shifted the contents of his in-box to the deal-with-later box. He had started a sermon he might be able to use at the funeral service, but he was out of his depth. The vicar would have made a good missionary, preaching hope and glory, comfort and joy. Death and sadness were too much for him to cope with. He preferred not to think about them.

***

"Cheer up, Frederick. You know she was quite awful to some people," Dorothy remarked.

"But not so awful that someone had to kill her."

"Some people - those women in her chorus, for instance - might have thought otherwise," Dorothy said.

"Surely not. She could be so nice," moaned the vicar.

Miss Price reacted with a "Pah!" and could not resist telling him that a tiny bit of her was sure Laura had it coming.

***

Gary Hurley would never have admitted it, but he had no clear idea what he was going to do next. It really depended on two factors: the forensic reports and the evaluation of Laura Finch's documents. He might need Dorothy Price's assistance on some of that, but her security was more important. They had to find out who had messed up her mirror and whether the threat should be taken seriously.

Gary wondered what kind of friendship Dorothy Price and Laura Finch had had and decided it must have been a very superficial one. In fact, Dorothy did not seem very sad at all. Gary wondered if the phenomenon of being a survivor in an generation that died one after another and had to live with the ominous threat of death simply because one could not live for ever, altered one’s attitude to still being alive.

***

“I’m sure that Laura had more than one enemy who wanted to see the back of her,” said Dorothy, knowing that the vicar had been partial to Laura for reasons best known to himself.

"You shouldn't talk like that, Dorothy," the vicar rebuked. "Laura Finch was earnestly trying to be a better person. She was young at heart and too young to die."

The vicar was not old. He was only in about his mid-forties. He just acted old. And he seemed to have been smitten by Laura Finch. Dorothy thought he should get a grip on himself rather than being sentimental about Laura.

"I was trying to get on better with her,” said Dorothy. “In fact I was quite anxious about her after those dreadful women in her chorus deserted her without notice."

“Laura came to Upper Grumpsfield to be nearer the church,” the vicar announced.

“It’s the first I’ve heard of that, Frederick,” said Dorothy. “As far as I knew, she got on the next-door neighbours’ nerves with her chorus, was offered a good price for her family home and took it, moving into an empty property that happened to be next door to the Crightons. And she did not tell me beforehand, either.”

It dawned on Frederick that Dorothy had resented Laura. No wonder she was not sad that Laura had departed this world, he decided.

Edith had brought in a round of elevenses and now stood listening fascinated to the conversation.

"You don’t know this, Frederick, but the neighbours in Lower Grumpsfield held what Laura called loud orgies. Laura was a paragon of rectitude, wasn’t she? I expect she told them off for their immorality, and she would not want them as neighbours, would she?"

“I’m not quite sure about the rectitude,” said Frederick, and looked disconcerted. “But I’m sure that Laura did not have orgies.”

Dorothy decided that the vicar had not been listening properly.

“I didn’t say she had them, Frederick. I only said she probably complained about them.”

"Mrs Finch never mentioned orgies to me," said the vicar, and Edith looked at her husband sternly. What was that about? "I'm sure Mrs Finch would not have tolerated any orgies," said the vicar.

Dorothy wished she had not used the drastic word orgy when party would have done just as well.

"The next-door neighbours had put up with the chorus rehearsals for years without complaining about noise," Edith said.

“Not those neighbours. The previous ones. They had probably been deaf.”

Dorothy was now being really catty about Laura and enjoying herself.

Edith had often wondered if Laura Finch sometimes bent the truth to suit her needs, and now the vicar was carrying on in an almost sentimental way as if his relationship with Laura Finch was closer than Edith had thought possible.

"The old neighbours had gone into sheltered accommodation. It was the new ones who complained about the bad singing and held the loud parties," said Dorothy, correcting her use of the word orgy. "Laura told them to get earplugs. I don’t suppose they did. I would have needed earplugs if I’d had to listen to any more of the Finch Nightingales’ catwauling."

“So she did have enemies, didn’t she?” said Edith.

“Don’t talk like that,” said the vicar.

"When that Italian started lodging next door - I think he was related to the new neighbours - he started laying the law down even more,” said Dorothy. “He told Laura to stop the yowling or else, and being Italian, he had probably forgotten more about singing that Laura had ever known. I think that's what made Laura's mind up. The good price was offered to make sure she took up the sale."

The vicar was quite shocked to hear Dorothy Price saying nasty things about Laura.

“Poor Laura,” said Edith. “Moving house and then being killed. I’d almost rather it had been me.”

***

“She could be good and kind,” said Frederick, who was saddened by Dorothy’s criticism of Laura.

“That is the strangest thing about her,” said Dorothy. "The young people next door on the other side had a nice baby. She was kind to them, so they were not the reason she moved out.”

“She helped at the birth during that dreadful snow we had in February. It was all over the papers,” said Edith.

“And Laura wallowed in the publicity.”

“You can’t criticize her for that, “ said Edith.

“But now I come to think of it, that was when she started wearing a wig,” said Dorothy. “She said her hair was falling out.”

“Was it?” Edith asked.

“There could have been a more sinister reason," said Dorothy.

"Or she wanted to change her appearance," said Edith. “How exciting. Going around in disguise.”

Edith often thought her role at the vicarage was a disguise. Would the vicar notice if she wore a wig?

"Someone from abroad tried to visit her, she told me,” said Dorothy. “But she never said who. Was she trying to avoid that person? That would certainly explain the wig, though I can’t see how wearing a wig would be enough to disguise someone who walked like Laura."

“How did she walk?” Edith asked. “I never noticed.”

“Like the Queen of the Night, Edith, though she could never have sung the part. Sort of on stilts. She usually wore very high heels, you see, and she found it difficult to balance on them.”

"Maybe she was only playing hide and seek in the wig," Edith suggested.

“It’s more likely that someone from her past had found her,” said Dorothy.

“What do you know about her past, Dorothy?” said the vicar.

“Very little, Frederick. What do you know?”

“Nothing much,” the vicar stuttered.

“You had a secret with her, didn’t you Frederick,” said Edith, who had suspected that all along.

"Shut up, woman," the vicar shouted.

Edith looked at him in horror.

"You see, Frederick,” she shouted back. “Your fine lady friend came to a sad end. Maybe her past caught up with her at last."

Considering Edith could have had no idea what Laura Finch's past had been like, this was really a shot in the dark. The vicar scowled and bit his lip.

Dorothy Price was shocked. What on earth was going on? Was Frederick hiding something?

“What makes you think I know something,” the vicar asked. He had now recovered himself enough to be bold.

"I suppose she had just dressed up for the fun of it," said Edith. "I mean, you don't just lose your hair overnight, do you?"

“She never said anything to me a out losing her hair,” said the vicar.

“When did you talk about it, Frederick?” Dorothy asked

“I don’t remember,” he replied.

***

Dorothy was getting impatient to move on. On reflection, she had to admit that she had resented the vicar's infatuation with Laura, though up to now she had thought it was only her imagination running wild.

"All I can say is that If Laura was hiding away, she didn't hide well enough," Dorothy said sharply. "She should have kept on wearing the wig, though she looked ridiculous. Then she might still be alive today."

Mr Parsnip looked stricken.

Dorothy decided that she would confide in Cleo. Frederick Parsnip had been keeping something back. Cleo would find out what. It might be vital for the case.

The phone rang. Edith reported that Mr Hurley would like to talk to the vicar later that day.

Frederick's face dropped. Dorothy wondered what could have deliberately  slipped the vicar’s mind.

Gary realised that Dorothy Price would have had quite a difficult day at the vicarage so he would drop in and talk to her.

He had announced that he would be coming, so he was given a polite, if not hearty welcome.

“Laura came to Upper Grumpsfield to be nearer the church,” the vicar tod Gary.

“It’s the first I’ve heard of that, Frederick,” said Dorothy, and repeated to Gary what she had heard about Laura’s neighbours in Lower Grumpsfield.  Her description gave Gary a pretty good idea of the resentment Laura had for her neighbours,, but incidentally also Dorothy’s resentment of Laura. No wonder she was not sad that Laura had departed this world.

"Was there any other reason for her to move to Upper Grumpsfield?" Gary asked, “such as being afraid of something or somebody?”

"She never told me, but I know the neighbours in Lower Grumpsfield held what Laura called loud orgies. Laura was virtue in person, Mr Hurley, once she’d become respectable. I expect she told them off for their immorality."

The vicar again looked disconcerted. Did Dorothy have to go through it all again for this policeman?

“Now, now, Dorothy,” said the Vicar.

“They might have been parties,” said Dorothy. “And you didn’t understand me when I told you.”

“What didn’t the vicar understand, Dorothy?”

“I only said that she complained about the parties, not that she organized them.”

"I'm sure Mrs Finch would not have tolerated any orgies," said the vicar again, for the D.I.’s benefit. Gary noted that the vicar was defending Laura Finch to the hilt.

Dorothy wished she had not used the drastic word orgy when party would have done

Gary Hurley wondered if there was anything in the conversation that would bring him nearer to the truth about Laura Finch's death. The more he heard about Mrs Finch, the more surprised he was that she hadn't been bumped off years ago.

“Poor Laura,” wept Edith.

Gary thought Edith was taking centre stage in a negative way. Funny how non-descript people made themselves conspicuous, even if their gestures were subconscious.

"You don't happen to know the name of that Italian neighbour, do you, erm Dorothy?"

"Let me think. The same as his coffee shop in Middlethumpton. Rodrigo, I think.  Laura couldn't stand him."

"I know that coffee place. I've been there a lot. Good coffee and opera recordings instead of the usual potted pop. But Rodrigo is Spanish."

“I don’t suppose Laura was bothered about that detail,” said Dorothy.

She turned to Gary and told him that Laura had worn a wig for weeks.

“She told me that someone from abroad was trying to find her, but she never said who it was. I suppose she knew and was taking steps to avoid him. That would certainly explain the wig, though I can’t see how wearing a wig would be enough to disguise someone who walked like Laura."

“I don’t think you should talk about Laura in terms of how she walked, Dorothy,” said the vicar.

“I can’t see why not,” said Gary, who was getting a bed impression of the vicar.

“How did she walk, Dorothy?”

“Like the Queen of the Night, though she could never have sung the part. Or like a stork finding its way through mud. She usually wore very high heels, you see, and she found it difficult to balance on them.”

Gary was highly amused by this description. The vicar looked on disapprovingly.

"Maybe she was only playing hide and seek in the wig," Edith chipped in.

“You’ve already said that, Edith.”

“I haven’t heard it, Dorothy.”

“Anyway, it’s likely that someone from her past found her,” said Dorothy.

***

“Do you know something about Laura Finch that you’d like to tell us,, Mr Parsnip?” said Gary.

The vicar seemed to be shrinking.

“She told you a secret, didn’t she?” said Edith, hoping that this time the vicar would admit it.

But he didn’t.

“ Maybe Laura’s past caught up with her."

“What past, Mrs Parsnip?” Gary asked.

Gary looked hard at Mr Parsnip. He was definitely hiding something. Mrs Parsnip was trying to get him to say something. Gary did not think she actually knew enthing, thut that guy did.

"I'm surprised nobody called Cleo Hartley in," he said, wondering how much of this information and the obvious strife between the vicar and his wife was relevant. "Mrs Finch was not wearing a wig when Miss Hartley found her, but if you know something, Miss Hartley should have been informed, Mr Parsnip.”

“What makes you think I know something,” the vicar said, not quite as confident of being able to brazen it out with this arrogant policeman.

"Supposing she just dressed for the fun of it," said Edith. “Don’t you think that’s what it was, Dorothy?”

"She probably hadn’t lost her hair, Mrs Parsnip, but she might have been hiding her identity," said Gary. "I don't see how we can verify that now unless someone can identify the person trying to get in touch with her."

“She never said anything about that,” volunteered the vicar, and Gary Hurley was surer than ever that the vicar knew more than he admitted.

"All I can say is that Laura did not hide well enough," Dorothy said sharply, and Gary Hurley was again surprised at the harshness of her tone. "She should have kept on wearing the wig, though she looked ridiculous. Then she might still be alive today."

Mr Parsnip looked stricken all over again. Dorothy had told him that more than once.

 Gary decided to put an end to the discussion.

 "I'd better get back to your cottage now, Miss Price," he said. "Do you think we could have a little chat about Mrs Finch some other time? I still need to know a bit more about her."

"Why don't you ask the vicar?" Dorothy retorted, and the vicar looked startled and fearful.

Gary Hurley mused that getting the vicar to talk was Cleo job.

"I could make a list of anything that occurs to me," Dorothy said as she saw Gary out. The Parsnips just sat and glowered at one another.

"Do that, Dorothy. It might get us off the ground," said Gary. “And tell that vicar of yours that I’ll call again."

“He won’t like that.”

“I don’t care much for corpses either, Dorothy.”

Gary got into his car and opened the window. "Stay out of sight, please.” he called. "It's early days in our investigation and we don't yet know exactly who we're looking for."

***

Dorothy did feel a bit nervous, though she would not have admitted it to anyone, especially Frederick. He always worried about everything, no matter how trivial it was, and that made unbearable most of the time, though he and Dorothy had a fairly good friendship going. He and Edith were obviously not getting along well. Maybe she could intercede. Maybe this impromptu visit would have a true purpose after all.

***

Dorothy did feel a bit nervous, though she would not have admitted it to anyone, especially Frederick. He always worried about everything, no matter how trivial it was, and that made unbearable most of the time, though he and Dorothy had a fairly good friendship going. He and Edith were obviously not getting along well. Maybe she could intercede. Maybe her impromptu stay would have a true purpose after all.

***

At Dorothy’s cottage in Monkton Way, a forensic team was going through its routine. Photographs had been taken of the message on the bathroom mirror and fingerprints taped. Good samples of Dorothy’s prints were taped and hairs from her hairbrush and would be used to determine her DNA so that she could be eliminated.

“I don’t mind having my prints taken,” Dorothy had once told Cleo. “It’s all in the line of duty.”

Cleo had told her that the police liked to have DNA these days so that they could identify people found dead in ditches. Dorothy now thought that was macabre in the light of the message on her mirror, but she was determined to take things lightly at the vicarage.

She wondered what she could do to patch up the Parsnips’ marriage after their rather disgraceful show of mutual dislike the previous evening. Cleo would say she was interfering in something that was not her business.

Dorothy regretted not having interfered in Laura’s life. She might be alive now if she had been less secretive about the drinking and its probable causes. Patching up the Parsnip’s relationship was therefore something she had to promote.

The forensic team had noted traces of sand on the hall carpet. Further investigation brought a cat box to light and even further research proved that the sand was from the cat box and had been carried into the hall. The intruder had gone out the way he came in, through the front door that had to be slammed shut, so that might explain why it was open. An intruder would not want to attract attention to himself.

Chris looked in on his second team just as Gary drove up to Dorothy’s cottage.

"Anything results, Ned?"

"No. We should have taped all the prints very soon, including those on the TV set, though it's unlikely that the intruder touched it. If Shirley is going to sit it out here, she'll need some entertainment and rubber gloves are not very pleasant to wear."

"Thanks, Ned. I'm hoping it'll just be the one night," said Shirley. “Anyway, you have my DNA. That’s a routine part of recruitment these days.”

"I'll pay Cleo Hartley a visit now and see how she's getting on with Jessica Finch. Send me a report, please, Ned. Shirley, phone me on your mobile if anything worth reporting happens. Don't use Miss Price's phone. It might be bugged."

Chris was reassured that they were at least being spared a corpse. Ned was the best forensic chemist they’d ever had and out on his first trip as head of the team. It would not be his last, Chris decided.

"Actually, it was bugged," said Ned. "Very curious that. We've removed it. A very old device. Nothing to do with the old girl, Gary. It was installed donkey's years ago. I don’t think she’s been back all that long, has she?"

"What makes you think that, Ned?"

"I used to hang out with the daughter of the people who used to live next door,” Ned explained. “She knew the previous owners of this cottage. The son was later sent to prison for theft on a grand scale. We assume that someone wanted to know what that neighbour got up to. It'll be in the police reports somewhere."

"I'll check that,” said Gary, turning to Shirley.

"I'm positive that whoever's responsible for the mess on that mirror was just playing a joke, as Miss Price suggests, though there is a possibility that it's that Betjeman guy. Or is it perhaps someone who thinks Miss Price knows more than she should? She does fancy her chances as a detective, bless her.”

Gary was glad Dorothy had not heard that. He had admitted to himself only reluctantly that Dorothy might be on the right track. He didn't really want that. To be honest, he'd prefer the mirror smearing to be criminal rather than a nasty little scheme to pay a piano teacher a lesson.

"Did you say Betjeman?" one of the others in the team asked. "That's the nutty guy from down the road."

"Do you know him?"

"Not personally. But he's notorious round here. Stalks people and exposes himself if he thinks he’ll get away with it."

"Disgusting," said Shirley.

“If Betjeman was guilty of Laura Finch’s murder, who helped him to push the corpse through the office window?" Gary asked. “Was Laura Finch herself a witness of something and had to be silenced?”

“We’ll never know, will we?” said Ned. ”No point in dwelling on what Laura Finch had in mind when she went to her death.”