By about four-thirty, Cleo was drinking tea in Edith's
kitchen, waiting for the boys to come home. She had left Robert at home, angry
because he was not going to have company on an afternoon he taken free so as to
help her with the investigations. Women were supposed to have hobbies for when
their partners had no time for them, not occupations that distracted them from
being available, he mused.
"Won't you tell me what you are here for, Cleo?"
Edith pleaded anxiously.
***
"I can’t just yet, Edith."
"The boys have been home and are out somewhere playing
football," said Edith.
Cleo accepted a cup of coffee. She would have to wait till
the boys were tired of their football game. Eventually they crashed in through
the kitchen door and stopped in their tracks when they saw Cleo sitting at the
table in their father's chair looking very serious indeed.
The boys knew that Cleo no longer worked at Middlethumpton
library because she was catching criminals instead. They also knew why she was
there that day. Now they stood in a row, hot and dirty from their game and
looking extremely guilty.
"What have you done, boys?" their mother wanted to
know.
"Nuffinck," said one of them.
"What kind of "nuffinck", Alfred?"
"I don't bloody know," Alfred said as the blush
rose in his cheeks.
"Don't talk in that common way and don't tell lies,"
said Edith so loudly that Mr Parsnip came rushing in from his studio.
"What's going on here?" he wanted to know.
“Nuffinck...”
“Sir!” Mr Parsnip corrected.
“Nuffinck, Sir.”
Cleo was amazed at the kind of stricture the vicar was
enforcing. If he thought he was commanding respect that way, he was up a gum
tree.
"Take you shoes off and go and wash yourselves, boys,"
the vicar commanded.
"Not yet," said Cleo. "I need to ask them
something important first."
"Do you? What could these boys possibly have done that
would interest you?"
"Well, for one thing they could have smeared toothpaste
across Miss Price's bathroom mirror."
"They wouldn't do a thing like that, would you, boys?"
Silence.
Edith looked aghast.
"If one of you was responsible for that action, own up
now," she said.
"It was only a joke," said Bertram, the second
eldest of the five.
"Albert?"
Albert was the eldest and tallest of the boys. Edith thought
he was probably showing off to his brothers.
"The old cow told me I was a rotten piano player,"
Albert retorted in his defence.
"She is Miss Price to you," said Mr Parsnip. "And
she's is trying to educate you."
"I don't want to be heddicated and I don't want to play
the stupid piano."
"So you went to her house, broke in and smeared
toothpaste on her bathroom mirror, did you? How did you get in?"
“With the door key.”
The vicar had taken over the questioning. Cleo let him get
on with it.
“And where did you get the door key?”
“Hangin’ on a milk bottle, Sir.”
"I wash my hands of you!" the vicar declared. "And
what is more, you will apologize to Miss Price and offer to weed her garden for
the rest of the year," he exclaimed before turning to Edith and telling
her it was her fault for not bringing them up properly. He then went back to
his study and was soon heard practising his new sermon, which was all about
forgiveness, his ideas on friendship having been reserved for Laura Finch’s
memorial service.
Cleo thought a few well-chosen words from her would be enough
to stop them repeating such a prank.
"I should be telling Detective Inspector Hurley to come
and put you in the cells for a day or two on bread and water," she told
them, "but since you have owned up, I will merely tell him what happened
and that you didn't mean to make trouble."
"Thank you, Cleo," said Edith. "And you can all
start off by weeding the vicarage garden, boys!"
"Now?" they cried in unison.
"Yes now, before I think of something you'd like to do
even less. I'm ashamed of you."
The boys trouped out, pushing and shoving at the kitchen
door. It wasn't long before you could hear sounds of a football being kicked
around the lawn.
***
Cleo thought she should not comment. Poor Edith was a martyr
to the family cause.
***
Dorothy Price was relieved to get a phone call from Shirley
Temple to say she could return to her cottage officially, though in fact she
had been there most of the time since Sunday. The mirror-smearing mystery had been solved, but things had gone
from bad to worse at the vicarage, leaving Dorothy wondering if she would ever
again regain the level of comradeship she had previously shared with Frederick.
She was relieved that the cottage had now been officially
declared safe and glad to leave the Edith and Frederick to their own devices.
Mixing in with other people’s conjugal strife was unpleasant and futile.
The vicar was ashamed of his sons’ prank, had heartily disapproved
of what he called Dorothy's general nosiness, and was so distressed about Laura
Finch's sad fate that he had transformed a whole new box of HB pencils into
scraps of wood and graphite in a pencil-sharpening frenzy that made Edith
wonder if he had gone off the deep end at last.
The ongoing pencil-sharpening could usually be heard in the
kitchen because it was accompanied by oaths that were entirely unsuitable for a
man of his calling. Edith was restive and embarrassed about her husband’s lack
of self-control.
Dorothy had gone to the vicarage to pick up anything else
she had left there by mistake, so she heard the pencil-sharpening.
"Does he always do that so vociferously, Edith?"
Dorothy queried.
"The more bothered he is, the shorter the pencils and
the worse the expletives get," said Edith. "But this is the first
time I've seen him dispose of a whole boxful at one sitting and even asking for
another box."
"Do you think we should get Beatrice here to manage
him?"
Beatrice was the vicar's elder sister. She was bossy and
efficient, and had never hesitated to tell Frederick Parsnip to pull himself
together when the occasion arose.
"Oh dear, no," protested Edith. "I couldn't
cope with her as well."
***
But Edith thought her husband was exaggerating wildly and
coping badly with Laura’s death. Laura Finch had been quite an annoying person
and caused many a headache, especially at the entertainment committee meetings
held round the vicarage dining table and quite often dictated by Laura Finch's selfish
intentions and current mood.
Finding out that Laura’s whole life had been a pack of lies
may have been a shock to Frederick, but Edith thought it somehow fitted in with
Laura's personality. She had always either been on the warpath or faking
sweetness and light to get what she wanted. Frederick had fallen for it all,
hook, line and sinker. Although she thought it wicked to think like that, Edith
could not help feeling that the tiresome woman had had it coming.
***
While Laura Finch was lying on a slab in the pathology lab
or stored in a refrigerated drawer at the police mortuary, Dorothy Price was
giving earnest thought to the funeral. If they couldn't find any other
relatives, at least Laura's children would have to be part of it all.
What Dorothy did not yet know, she read in the daily newspaper.
She was appalled. Why hadn’t Cleo told her the previous day? She got straight
on the phone. Cleo had just got home.
“I didn’t see you at the vicarage this afternoon, Dorothy. Where
were you?”
Having a little rest at home, Cleo. What’s been happening?
Is it true about Jason? Why didn't you tell me? How come the newspapers found
out and I didn’t?"
"It's true, Dorothy. I wanted to spare you that anguish
as long as possible."
"Never mind the anguish. What about the young woman…. Jessica?"
"She's disappeared. The police are investigating. There's
nothing we can do."
"There must be. For Laura's sake we must get to the
bottom of it all."
"If we knew who killed Laura, it might make it easier
to trace Jason's murderer, Dorothy."
"Do they suspect Jessica?"
"That's only logical."
"And she's supposed to have killed Laura as well?"
"That's logical, too."
"But unlikely."
"Nothing is unlikely, Dorothy, however shocking it is.
Watch out for yourself,” said Cleo."
“I don’t think I’ll
be a victim, Cleo.”
“You don’t know that, Dorothy.”
“I’ll risk it.”
***
Dorothy positioned her volume of Beethoven sonatas on the
music stand of her piano while the kettle boiled to make a brew of some decent Ceylon
blend. At the vicarage they drank terrible tea. Dorothy wondered if all vicars'
wives were incapable of brewing proper tea and cooking tasty meals. Edith also seemed
to think salt was sinful, she mused.
***
Robert's daughter Julie, who had volunteered to observe the
house in London where Jason had lived, phoned Cleo. Julie had not had time to
look at the daily papers, so she did not know about the new tragedy that had
befallen the Finch family. Cleo was still wondering how the news had got as far
as the dailies, but there was little hope of finding out.
"Cleo, there's no sign of Jason at the house," Julie
reported, "but the woman calling herself Jessica seems to have been at the
house briefly."
"Oh Julie, I'm so sorry not to have been in touch. Jason
is dead."
"Oh no! That's terrible."
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. Things have been really
hectic here, for one reason or another. When was Jessica seen at Jason's flat?"
"This morning. I didn't see her. One of the guys
helping me phoned and described a woman going into the house. He had a
description of her and they were watching out for her. Did you find out her
real identity, Cleo?"
"She said she was Jason's sister, adopted by Laura
Finch," said Cleo. “But it's possible that she was his wife. You see,
Jason's mother never mentioned a daughter. She may have had other reasons for
not doing so. Her own past was a terrible mess."
"What should I do about the woman if she turns up again?"
"You mean she’s gone away again?"
"Yes. And she gave my friends the slip. She must have
realised she was being followed. But there's a light on in one of the rooms.
Perhaps she slipped back in unnoticed. My friends were somewhere else, of
course. She had led them quite a dance before disappearing into thin air."
"I'll call Gary. Now the police really will have to
move."
***
Cleo wanted to believe Jessica was innocent of any crime,
particularly murder, but Gary had to be told. The police in London can't have
taken the case seriously. Jessica seemed to have a talent for not being where
you expected her. Gary felt guilty about not involving the London police more
urgently, but did not say as much to Cleo.
***
About ten minutes later Gary rang to say the police were on
their way to Jason's flat. Soon after, Julie rang to say her friends had observed
the house from a safe distance and a woman had been taken away in a police car,
so she must have got in again without anyone seeing, unless it was a different
person. A photo had been taken of the woman and she would send it on as soon as
she had it. This rapid chain of communications was soon crowned with the photo,
which was definitely that of the Jessica Finch they knew. Gary Hurley thanked
Cleo through gritted teeth for helping
to trace the woman.
"Don't thank me, thank Robert's daughter and her
friends," Cleo told him. “We don’t know if it’s Jessica, Gary. Somewhere
in the world a twin sister could be running around. Jason’s life was
complicated and we don’t know enough about his recent activities. He might have
known both young women. They might be so alike that you could take one for the
other.”
"Not that identification twaddle again. The woman
arrested, whoever she happens to be, is now on her way to Middlethumpton. She
refused to say who she was and has no identification papers. I'll question her as
soon as she arrives. I think it would be a good idea if you joined me. I’m sure
you’ll know immediately if it is Jessica."
"OK. Before I forget, the business of Dorothy Price's
mirror is cleared up. It was a Parsnip boy."
"Good. I hope isn't the only crime we're going to
solve."
***
Cleo felt vindicated. Robert, who had just come home
ravenous for supper and found the kitchen cold, was not amused. Julie phoned
again and said she would drive to Upper Grumpsfield immediately and could they
put her up. Robert, who had hardly seen anything of his daughter since he had
belatedly found out he had one, was delighted. His mood changed immediately
from crotchety to charming. He would cook something nice. Could Cleo prepare
vegetables while he popped back to the shop for some steaks? Julie would be
ravenous, too.
"I'm hungry now," said Cleo. "But I had no time
to cook anything. We'll have to get
meals on wheels if this goes on much longer."
"Over my dead body," protested Robert, which was, given
the number of corpses Cleo was having to think about, a rather tactless thing
to say.
"Your wish is my command," Cleo joked. "But
seriously, your child bride produced a really helpful daughter."**
Robert would have liked to describe the emotional pain he had
suffered when Rita was declared dead by her father, who had in fact spirited
her away to New Zealand and did not know either about the marriage or that his
daughter was pregnant with Julie. Rita had only returned to Wales to wind up
her father's estate. Julie had decided to stay in London, get to know her
father and get work experience with an ace photographer before looking for a
job.
Cleo had listened to the story patiently many times and was almost
as happy as Robert about Julie. Rita had applied for a divorce and would not be
staying in Europe longer than necessary. Robert was hoping against hope that
Julie would decide to stay in Britain forever. Cleo had again talked about her
own hapless marriage.
Nothing that happened to Cleo and Robert now could be as
terrible as what they had both already been though. They were two nice people
who had been lucky enough to find one another even if that sounded like the
content of what Robert's mother would have called a “penny dreadful” in the old
days. Cleo put the guy who meant more to her than just what her mother called
‘hanky-panky’ out of her mind, at least temporarily.
***
Robert dashed back to the shop and returned very soon with a
tray of delicious looking beef. I'll get the barbecue going, Cleo. Phone Gary. There’s
enough for him if he’d like to join us here and I’d quite like to catch up on
Laura.”
“That was definitely great minds thinking alike! Jessica will
be too tired to say anything or might even react to Gary the way she did to me
when I first met her, so Gary might be glad to get away from her and postpone
his questioning till tomorrow, especially as I could not be there tonight."
"There’s no proof that Jessica is guilty of anything,
is there?"
"The police think running away is a sign of guilt."
"Or is it fear that drove her to it?" Robert
speculated. "For all we know, Jason might have wanted to protect her from
being the victim of someone else and paid for it with his own life."
Cleo thought that was an impressive solution. Robert was
learning fast.
***
Gary Hurley was relieved that the crucial questioning of
Jessica Finch would not take place till the following day. Jessica would remain
in custody and be treated with due respect. He was glad to escape from his
office and as hungry as a hunter.
"I'm sure Dorothy would enjoy a barbeque after all that
vicarage food. I'll phone her, too," Cleo had suggested.
"That'll kill two birds with one stone," said
Robert. "You'll have to fill Julie in with what's happened, so you could
tell them both at the same time."
***
Meanwhile, Dorothy was still trying to clean the toothpaste
off her bathroom mirror, and consequently in a bad temper. She phoned Cleo for
advice, which was excellent timing, of course, except that she was horrified
that Albert Parsnip could do such a thing to her mirror. She would not teach
him again. Strange that he had used the same phrase as was smeared on the shop
window. Had that given Albert the idea in the first place.
“Let’s not speculate, Dorothy. The matter has been cleared
up so forget it even if Albert would feel rewarded by not having to take any
more piano lessons. I can imagine that he would not want to face your third
degree, let alone your piano.”
“You’re right. I probably was a little hard on him sometimes,”
said Dorothy.
"Try one of those scrapers you use on the ceramic stove
top to get rid of the toothpaste," suggested Cleo. "Or better still,
leave that now and come to our little barbecue. I'll help you with the mirror
tomorrow morning."
"As I haven't got a ceramic top, you'll have to bring
your scraper with you," said Dorothy with a little sniff. She did not like
to be reminded of how antiquated her kitchen equipment was. “But thank you for
inviting me. I'll be delighted to eat Robert’s cooking, and I'll try out your
scraper tonight if you can spare it."
"You're in for a treat, Dorothy. Robert's really good
at barbeques. I've made a big salad and the jacket potatoes are in the oven."
"I'll be right over," said Dorothy, and a little
later she was walking around Cleo's cottage to the patio.
For the first time in days Dorothy felt safe, though she
kept her eyes skinned for anyone lurking suspiciously between her cottage and
Cleo's.
"I'd like one of those," she said, pointing at the
electric grill. "I thought you had to use coal."
"Not these days," said Robert. "How are you,
Dorothy? I'm glad to see you survived the ministrations of Edith and her
evangelist."
"She is rather a fusspot, but her heart is in the right
place. Frederick was still sharpening pencils when I left earlier. His
second box in one morning. Edith said sharpening pencils is always a bad sign.
I've certainly never seen him so upset before. I didn't know he was quite so
devoted to Laura, He was very angry with the boys."
That last remark of Dorothy's reminded Robert of the feuding
that had gone on between Laura and Dorothy. Talk about a love-hate
relationship. Dorothy seemed sorry but certainly not sad about Laura's fate. It
was a sort of ‘there but for the grace of God go I’ attitude that was quite
common in older people who had to watch their contemporaries dying off one
after another. Robert wanted to get away from the Laura topic as fast as
possible.
"Like to get ahead with the eating, Dorothy? I don't
know when Julie will arrive and I'm saving plenty to grill fresh when she does."
Dorothy nodded eagerly and Robert solemnly retrieved a lamb
cutlet from the grill with a long barbecue fork. Dorothy hastily put a plate
under it, then, to Robert's amusement, helped herself to a large squirt of hot
chili sauce.
"Are you sure you won't burn your tongue, Dorothy?"
"Some like it hot," she replied, tucking in. "This
is delicious. Done to a turn, Robert."
Robert noticed that Dorothy was unperturbed about
the hot sauce she had served herself with.
They heard a car drawing up.
"That'll be Julie," said Robert. Dorothy Price
remembered the drama of the wedding that hadn't taken place, but instead had
revealed that Robert was not only still married, but also had a daughter. Julie
had not been there that day. Fortunately, everything had been cleared up and
Robert was free to marry again.
"We're here," called Julie.
"We?"
Robert was rather taken aback. Behind Julie stood a tall
young man whom she introduced as her new friend, Colin.
After a round of hand-shaking and cheek-kissing, Julie went
on to explain that he was one of the group of friends who had observed Jason's
house round the clock. They shared a studio and Julie had met them all when she
photographed them for a series on up and coming young artists.
"The police will be very thankful that you watched that
house, Julie. And Colin, thank all your colleagues for helping."
"It was no trouble at all, Mrs…"
"Cleo. Robert and I aren't married, but even if we were,
we don't go for formality!"
"Cleo is the best thing that could have happened to your
father," said Dorothy. “They were such lonely people.”
“Don’t move me to tears, Dorothy,” said Robert, quite
embarrassed at Dorothy’s comment.
Cleo was grateful that the air had been cleared. She did not
want Colin to think she had usurped Julie's mother.
"We'll have a conference on the dreadful events here
when we've eaten," said Cleo. "Dorothy is not quite up to date
because she more or less had to go into hiding, and Gary Hurley should be here
any minute."
“Gary?”
“D.I. Gary Hurley. He sometimes asks my advice.”
“Don’t be so modest, Cleo,” said Robert. “He’d be lost
without you.”
Cleo swallowed twice at that comment. Gary came round the
corner of the cottage in time to hear the remark.
“Who would I be lost without?”
“Me,” said Cleo, trying to head Gary off. Robert should not
have said that.
“Well, you would, wouldn’t you?”
“She certainly has her moments,” said Gary.
The double entendre fortunately escaped notice except by
Cleo.
Dorothy looked sharply at her. Cleo was not looking at Gary.
“From now on I’m Gary to everyone, folks,” he said.
When everyone had eaten as much as they could manage and
coffee had been served at the little dining table, it was time to get down to
business.
Cleo took the stage.
“Sorry, Gary, but we have to do some updating.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m grateful for anything in this case. I
don’t think I’ve ever been so confused.”
And that coming from Gary was a big surprise to Dorothy and
Robert, who had been thinking along those lines.
"I'd like start with your observations, Julie, then I'll
put them into the perspective of what's been happening here," said Cleo.
"Good idea….When I told Colin I was going to watch what
Jason did and where he went, he roped in three friends and they kept an eye on Jason
in turns. He turned out to be rather an unadventurous person to follow, except
for a meeting he had with a guy Colin recognized from a newspaper article in
the legal section."
“Wow!” said Cleo.
“Colin’s training to be a criminal lawyer, so he positively devours
anything to do with crime.”
"What was in the article?" Gary asked.
"It was about
drugs and women from Asian countries being used to traffic them. Jason was
photographed in profile as one of the investigators, which was a very dangerous
thing to do, and the newspaper tried to dig itself out by claiming next day
that it had been the wrong photo."
“An investigator!” said Gary. “So he could have annoyed
someone who didn’t want to be investigated. That widens the range of suspects
to the infinite.”
"That does sound ominous," said Cleo.
“Or it was drugs,” said Colin.
“The blood tests will reveal if he was an addict,” said
Gary.
“And that’s a good place to start,” said Cleo. “There’s no
point in speculating.”
"Seeing that guy with Jason was thought-provoking,”
Julie continued.
After that we really kept on the guy's tail. We thought
something else might happen – some exchange of cash or goods. But nothing did.
On Saturday morning we followed Jason to Euston station. Then we lost him. We
think he might have spotted that he was being trailed."
"It ties in with him arriving on Saturday," said
Cleo, "No one saw him leave, which is not surprising because he didn’t go
anywhere. He was lying murdered in the garden shed."
“Did you find out who the other guy is, Julie?” Gary wanted
to know.
“The colleague tracking Jason at the time took a photo of
him. I’ll send it to you.”
“Thanks.”
Cleo showed them the photo of Jason that she had taken with
her mobile.
"The woman on your photo, Julie, was probably the
person calling herself Jessica Finch and claiming to be Jason's sister. We now think
she might have been his wife."
Julie frowned.
"That's not what it looked like to me," she said.
"Could it have been a different woman the first time,
Julie?" Cleo asked. "We don't know if one or two women, probably
identical twins, are involved because Jessica suggested to me that she had had
a twin sister."
"We went back to observing Jason's house because we
hoped he'd turn up again. Then the woman eventually came on her own."
"The same woman? Are you sure?" Gary asked.
"No, I'm not. I feel quite insecure about that."
"Assuming it was,” said Cleo, “my theory is that she
witnessed Jason’s murder and fled."
"She was certainly distraught and in a hurry,"
said Colin.
"Either from
witnessing a murder, or committing one," speculated Cleo.
"My sympathy has its limits, Colin," said Robert. "She
would have phoned the police if she was innocent. That's why they're bringing
her back to Middlethumpton. She's a wanted person."
“Exactly,” said Gary who was amazed that Robert knew so
much.
"And the mystery of the Finch family ties hasn't been
cleared up, either," said Cleo. "You know, folks, this is a
tremendously complex matter. Laura never once mentioned a daughter or a
daughter-in-law even after Jason's real identity had been divulged."
"She tried to pass him off as her nephew," said
Dorothy scathingly.
"But Dorothy noticed the similarity between their noses
and accused Laura of telling lies," said Cleo. "As for Jessica's
identity, there could also have been corruption at the passport office in
Bermuda.”
“Interpol is investigating, but it all takes time and you
can't force someone to tell the truth if it isn't in their interest,” Gary
explained. “We don’t go in for water-boarding or other horrific tortures.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” said Dorothy, “though relying on
people to tell the truth is a wonky sort of philosophy.”
"Laura Finch's murder is having far-reaching effects,"
said Cleo.
“I’m supposed to be in charge of this case, Julie,” said
Gary.
"Up to now it looks as if Cleo has done most of the
investigating," said Robert.
Though Gary was visibly irritated, he managed to say “Robert,
you’ve hit the nail on the head,” but then turned tables by adding “I never
thought I’d be depending on amateur sleuths for inspiration.”
Cleo wondered if Gary was being sarcastic about her
profession as a blind to stop Robert latching on to the fact that he and Cleo
had more in common than chasing criminals.
"More coffee, anyone?" she offered, mainly to stop
Robert from indulging in any more repartee of that nature.
***
Gary’s mobile rang.
“Sorry, folks, I’ll have to leave,” he said, looking at the message
he had received. “New data on the Norton brothers. See you tomorrow, Cleo. 10
o’clock for Jessica’s questioning?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Just one question, before you go,” Cleo had to ask. “Could that
meeting of Jason’s with a mysterious guy have been with one of the Nortons or
their accomplices?”
“It’s possible. They had their finger in many pies. Anything’s
possible in this crazy case.”
“Can you send photos of them for comparison with that guy
Jason was seen with?” said Cleo.
“Yes. Give me half an hour.”
Thanks. “We can look at them together, Colin,” she said.
Robert topped up the coffee cups.
Gary thanked Robert effusively for the great barbeque and
left. True to his word, half an hour
later, he sent Cleo the photos she had asked for. Colin and Julie studied the
photos carefully.
“We’ve never seen them before,” they agreed.
"On the whole, I think the probable solution
is that Laura Finch witnessed something she shouldn't have and was killed to
keep her quiet," said Cleo.
"She's certainly quiet now," said Robert,
and earned himself a few disapproving looks.
"Do you think tracing Bontemps' activities in
recent weeks would help?" he said. Colin had been listening intently to
everything and decided that he would later call his novel notes 'diary of a murder'.
"What happened to Laura was not serendipity,
Colin," said Cleo.
"Then it was a coincidence,” said Dorothy. “Or
do you seriously think she was herself a
gangster?"
Robert laughed loud and long at that idea.
"Because I think she had just lost touch with
reality and was fabricating new life for herself," said Dorothy. “The
problem is that you are who you are and Laura was scarred from the life she had
made herself.”
"I beg to differ,” said Cleo. Laura had not
just got out of touch with normal reality. She had led a life we would all have
heartily disapproved of, Dorothy. Maybe that's why she avoided you towards the
end. Her earlier life had been exposed. To make things worse for her, her
habitual drinking had also been uncovered and she would be scared that further
probing could reveal even more details we know today."
"We were never great friends, Cleo, and I avoided
her after that business with Jason was revealed."
"So what are you going to do next, Cleo?"
Julie wanted to know.
"Wait for the forensic report, I suppose. It's
hardly likely that Jessica would have been wearing gloves, so she might have
left fingerprints on the secateurs or the lawn mower."
"Gruesome," said Julie. "Could it
have been that weird neighbour, Cleo?"
"I asked about Betjeman’s whereabouts. He was apparently
somewhere on a survival course. Scouts honour and so on, probably organized by
his dreadful mother, and he went along with it because he liked to annoy and
ridicule people, and there would be a fresh bunch to go it on a survival course.
“He sounds horrible,” said Julie.
“People who know him are respectful and keep their
distance, Julie,” said Cleo. “ But he doesn't look the type to badger someone
like Laura, for instance, if he can get something younger. He’s certainly
mentally unstable. I hate to think what kind of sexual aberrations he’s capable
or even guilty of."
"Some insecure young men yearn for the
attentions of a ripe woman like Laura, don’t they?" said Dorothy.
"I hope you're not one of them," said
Julie.
"That's rich. Laura and ripe!" Robert was
highly amused at the idea. Cleo was less amused.
"I doubt if the Crighton guy would had much
contact with Laura. She hadn't been living there more than a few weeks. Didn’t
she ask him to tidy her garden and received an offensive refusal, Dorothy? Anyway,
who could have put her through the window of my office? A family outing to
cover up the crime?"
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” said Dorothy.
"Let's leave Betjeman out, then," said
Colin.
"For the time being, at least," Cleo
added.
***
Those Finch Nightingales are a dreadful crowd and
they had it in for Laura Finch," said Dorothy.
“Nightingales?” said Colin.
“Ironic, that name. Laura’s chorus could not sing
for toffee,” said Robert.
"I investigated four of the worst of them and
there is at least one who would have been capable of the murder," said Dorothy,
not without a little pride.
"And there’s Morgan the organ,” said Robert.
“He might be a wimp, but someone might have put him up to it, or Laura
witnessed some shady business he was conducting in his garage.”
“Nonsense,” said Dorothy.
“That is not nonsense, Dorothy. Mr Morgan
double-crossed Laura by going behind her back and entering into the intrigue
that resulted in his becoming director if the new chorus," Cleo explained.
"Comparing it to the conducting he does in
front of the church choir, he must be the most incompetent gangster in Britain,"
said Robert.
"That sounds more like a motive for her to
kill him," said Julie.
"And even if he did kill her, he could not
have lifted her through the window. He was less than half her bulk," said
Cleo, “and his mother was nowhere near to help him. No, Mr Morgan is not the
stuff killers are made of."
"Then let's forget Mr Morgan," said
Colin.
"I think we would also be mistaken to assume that
both murders were committed by one and the same person," said Cleo.
"And we haven't even mentioned Mr Bontemps,"
said Dorothy.
"Don't bother. I could strangle him for
messing up my shop front."
"Now, now, Mr Jones. No murderous talk here!"
said Julie. "You might find yourself a suspect."
Robert looked stricken. Julie put her arms round
him and explained that she had only been getting into the spirit of things. Of
course no one suspected him of anything.
***
Cleo stood up. Enough was enough, even if it was just
banter. She was anxious about the results of the forensic analyses. The best
thing would be for them all to get a good night's sleep.
Dorothy decided it was well past her bedtime,
though she secretly hoped there would be a late-night gangster movie worth
watching, since they stimulated her powers of detection. Robert and Colin
escorted her home. Better safe than sorry. In the meanwhile Julie and Cleo
sorted out the sleeping arrangements. Cleo had immediately realised that Julie
and Colin slept together. Robert was more naïve. Within 10 minutes the two men
were back. They obviously got on well. Robert hoped Colin would dissuade Cleo
from any more investigating, except in trivial cases.
"Will you be OK in the guest room?"
Robert asked. "The bed isn't really wide enough for two. I hardly fit into
it on my own. Take the sofa, one of you."
"Robert, they may want to sleep in the same
bed," said Cleo.
"We'll manage," said Julie, blushing
though she was thirty and certainly beyond needing the protection of an anxious
father.
"There's always the air mattress," he suggested.
"I can get it down from the attic for you if you like."
Don't bother, Dad. This isn't the 19th century,
you know."
That was the first time she had called him Dad. It
took the wind out of his sails. Cleo took him by the elbow and led him into
their bedroom. Being a father was not quite as easy as he had thought. He felt
protective towards Julie. He didn't want her to get hurt.
Cleo told him to shut up and get to bed.
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