Episode 11 - The Spencers I

Monday cont.

Cleo knew they would have to find Polly and question her as soon as possible. It only took a few minutes to get to the address of the Spencer abode on the edge of Huddlecourt Minor village. The road was on the edge of the village and suburban, with tidy gardens and red brick garages to match the houses.

“That must be the house,” said Dorothy, pointing to a semi with thick net curtains at all the windows. “16 Ash Road. There must be a lot of nosy neighbours round here if they feel the need to have such thick nets.”

***

Cleo phoned Gary briefly to tell him they were on Polly’s trail and gave him the address. He wanted to join them immediately. Cleo thought it was unnecessary, but he would get Gloria to baby-sit and get moving. Cleo knew better than to argue. Gary would bring PeggySue if Gloria had no time.

An older man they assumed to be Mr Spencer answered the door to Number 16.

“Jehovah’s Witnesses are not welcome here,” he said.

“We are not Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mr Spencer. I am Cleo Hartley and this is my colleague Dorothy Price from the Hartley Investigation Agency. We’ve come to talk to Polly.”

“She isn’t talking to anyone,” said Mr Spencer.

“I think she should talk with us,” said Cleo.

“What the hell gives you the right to talk to my daughter?”

“We are private detectives, Mr Spencer, and we want to find the murderer of Ali Lewis because until he is caught, your daughter is in grave danger,” said Dorothy.

Dorothy thought that Mr Spencer might also have had an axe to grind. What if he had ‘taken care’ of Ali Lewis on the grounds that his daughter had suffered enough already? Dorothy kept that hunch to herself.

“Think about it, Mr Spencer. We’ll wait in my car,” said Cleo.

Since the car was parked directly in front of the house they could also keep a watch on the front door. Of course, Polly could escape via the back garden, but Cleo did not think she would. Very soon, Gary arrived without PeggySue. Helen, Cecilia and Charlie were looking after her at home. Cleo was horrified, but Gary assured her that PeggySue was in her playpen having a whale of a time and being made a fuss of. The girls were responsible enough. Cleo could head home soon even if he had to stay at the Spencer house a bit longer.

The two sleuths got out of Cleo’s car and followed Gary to the Spencer front door.

“It’s all a bit fishy,” Dorothy had time to say as Gary announced himself as Chief Inspector Hurley.

“Oh, it’s you, is it?” the man replied and led them all into the sitting-room. “I didn’t know…” he said, wishing he had been a bit friendlier.

“That’s OK, Mr Spencer,” said Cleo. “If you could just call your daughter now.”

Mr Spencer went meekly to fetch Polly.

“Haven’t you talked to her yet?” said Gary in a low voice to Cleo and Dorothy.

“Mr Spencer did not want us to,” said Cleo at normal pitch and volume. “How did you get here so fast?”

“Wings and anxiety, my Love. I’ve postponed our talk at the registry office till Thursday, by the way,” said Gary. “We’ll have to talk to Edith tomorrow, whatever state she is in.”

Polly entered the room. She looked drawn.

“Have you found the killer, Mr Hurley?” she said, addressing Gary and ignoring the two sleuths.

“Why did you run away from me, Polly?” Gary asked.

“I was afraid,” said Polly.

“I would have provided more protection than the woods.”

“You don’t need to talk to that policeman,” said Spencer officiously.

“Would you rather talk, Mr Spencer?” said Gary.

“Why should I? It was that Molly woman. I knew she would come to a bad end.”

“You let your daughter work there, Mr Spencer.”

“She needed the work, Inspector, and it helped her to recover from her mother’s death.”

Spencer was on the defensive.

***

“Where were you the night Ali Lewis was stabbed?” Gary asked.

“Me? Here, of course,” said Spencer.

“Any witnesses, Mr Spencer?”

“No. I was alone. My wife was out.”

“I thought you said your wife is dead,” said Gary.

“My second wife,” said Spencer.

“So nobody would know if you were here all the time, Mr Spencer, would they?”

“No, but I was.”

“You could have followed Ali Lewis and your daughter to the crypt and stabbed Mr Lewis, couldn’t you?” said Gary.

“Yes, but I didn’t.”

Cleo and Dorothy had stood back and left the questioning to Gary.

“Did you consider that course of action, Mr Spencer?”

“I might have done, but I didn’t,” said Spencer.

“It was not my Dad,” said Polly.

“How do you know, Miss Spencer?”

“I could see it wasn’t him,” said Polly.

“If you could see who it wasn’t, then you could also see who it was, couldn’t you?”

“I did not see anything, Mr Hurley.”

“But you just said it was not your father, Miss Spencer.”

The girl burst into tears.

Don’t pressurize her, Gary,” said Cleo. “The forensic evidence will be available soon and then we’ll know more.”

“I’ll order a patrol car,” said Gary. “You are under arrest, Mr Spencer.”

Gary handcuffed the man. That was normal procedure and Spencer realised that a struggle would be useless.

“What for?”

“Suspicion of homicide, Mr Spencer.”

“We’ll drive home now,” said Cleo, and left Gary to deal with Spencer. Gary ordered a patrol team. Fortunately, Mr Spencer was not making a fuss.

“On second thoughts I’d better stay here,” said Dorothy.

“A good idea, Dorothy,” said Gary. “Can you watch out for the patrol team? They should be here any time now.”

The patrol team had not dawdled. They took Spencer to the patrol car. The driver was Greg Winter, to Gary’s surprise. He would wait further instructions.

“Dad didn’t do it,” said Polly, now in great distress.

“Miss Spencer, the only way you can help your father is by telling the truth,” said Gary.

Polly ran out of the room and up the stairs.

Mrs Spencer, who had not put in an appearance before, now came out of the kitchen and asked what the matter was.

“Where is my husband going with those coppers?”

“To Headquarters for further questioning, Mrs Spencer,” said Gary.

“Oh is he?” Mrs Spencer said. “The fool hasn’t even got a clean shirt on.”

“I should think that’s the least of his worries,” remarked Gary, thinking what an awful woman she was. 

Gary went out to talk to Greg.

Spencer had been parked on the back seat of the patrol car and strapped in.

“Why are back you on patrol, Greg?” Gary asked.

“I jumped in, Gary. Sam has broken his leg.”

“He’s as tough as nails, Greg. The guy must have fallen off a roof.”

“He did.”

***

“To cut this story short, the prisoner may have killed his daughter’s lover, Greg. He’s theoretically one of Cleo’s suspects. Mr Spencer could be innocent, but he might not be.”

***

At HQ Greg took Spencer through the routine, cautioned him and assured him that his arrest would be made official if the public prosecutor thought the case against him was strong enough.

Spencer was indignant, but that did not get him a free pass. Greg was not able to tell from the man’s conduct whether he was on the defensive or just plain innocent. He was escorted to an arrest cell and Greg went to his office to wait for Gary.

Gary arrived soon after, but Greg had to be content with being told that Cleo and Dorothy were suspicious and that was a reason to look into things. Since those private sleuths were often on the right track, Greg only marvelled at Gary’s eagerness to put Spencer behind bars. Those sleuthing ladies must have argued a strong case.

Gary explained that with Cleo not far from the birth of her twins he wanted to be with her as much as possible and not have her fussing about suspects in the Ali case. He would head home now and leave Spencer smouldering overnight.

“Where’s that big black Mammie of Cleo’s, then?” asked Greg.

“My almost mother-in-law? Job-hunting, Greg, except that she’s actually man-hunting.”

“At her age?”

“At any age, Cleo says.”

“Well, cut along, Gary. I won’t be here in the morning. I promised Brass to help out. Mia’s going to be on duty.”

***

Back at the cottage, Cleo found PeggySue playing contentedly with her three guardians. They had climbed into the playpen and Charlie had given PeggySue a drink. Helen and Cecilia had sung to her. They had all played with the Russian dolls and Charlie’s Barbie dolls.

“Thanks, girls,” said Cleo, relieved to find everything OK. “You are great baby-sitters.”

Charlie’s school friends left clutching packets of toffees as a reward.

“Where’s Daddy?” Charlie wanted to know. “He said he would help me with my maths homework.”

“He will, too, but he had to arrest someone, so he won’t be back for a while. Can I help?”

“No, I’ll wait for Daddy, but you could listen to my French.”

“Sure, Baby. Come into the kitchen and help me get dinner ready. We’ll do the French as we go.”

***

Five minutes later, Charlie was reciting irregular verbs and making sentences; half an hour later, Gary was only slightly surprised to hear Cleo and his daughter talking French in the kitchen.

“Do I need to show my passport to come in?” he said. “Or will a big hug be enough?”

Charlie ran into Gary’s arms.

“How did it go?” Cleo asked. She was curious about Gary’s drastic solution to the Spencer question. “Did you really have to arrest him? I don’t think he realized that you suspected him of anything.”

“He can brood on the why and wherefor till tomorrow. I saw the second Mrs Spencer before I left and would have liked to arrest her instead. She’s really awful, Cleo. I did not ask her about her alibi, so she might not be on her guard.”

“It can’t have been easy for Polly to accept a step-mother,” said Cleo. “Did you see them together?”

“No,” said Gary. “Do you want to include Mrs Spencer in your list of suspects?”

“Can you think of a reason for not doing so, Gary?”

“No, but as I explained to Greg, Spencer is a prime suspect. He has no believable alibi and judging by his protective attitude to his daughter a very strong motive.”

“If he has no alibi for Friday evening, maybe Mrs Spencer has none either,” said Cleo.

“We’ll have to pursue that line, Cleo.”

“It all sounds like a wasps’ nest.”

“All we know up to now is that Polly saw someone but won’t say who. That points more to her defending her father rather than shielding Molly or her step-mother,” said Gary. “If Molly or Mrs Spencer did it, surely Polly will now come forward and say so?”

“First you’ll have to find out if there even was a third person involved,” said Cleo.

“If there wasn’t, Polly was lying, wasn’t she?”

“Sure. And if she lied, why?”

“A leading question, if ever there was one,” said Gary.

“One thing is certain,” said Cleo, “and that is that if her father is guilty, she’ll stay silent.”

“True.”

“Unless someone else she wants to protect is involved, Gary.”

“Such as?”

“A discarded boyfriend would not want his girl to be carrying on with Ali, for instance.”

“That’s another job for the Agency, Cleo.”

“A job for Dorothy, I should think, but we have a hunch about that.”

”I’ll get to HQ very early tomorrow and question Spencer on the subject of dependents.”

“Polly or Mrs Spencer might want to visit him tonight if they are worried,” said Cleo.

“I left instructions that he is not allowed visitors until I say so.”

“Dorothy can find out about Polly’s discarded boyfriend that the regulars at the pub told us about,” said Cleo.

“Should Dorothy have an escort? Mia Curlew, for example?”

“No. Let her do it her way.”

“I hope that does not imply a shoot-out, Cleo.”

“I don’t think Dorothy is that foolish. I have an early appointment at the clinic. I’ll drive there and meet you at the Edith’s secure hospital ward so that we can talk to her, shall I? Spencer can’t run away and there’s still the Edith case to clear up.”

“Do you want to face her?”

“Not really, but we need to know if she really did try to kill herself. I must watch her reactions if I want to get any clarity. We don’t know if Robert visited her at the vicarage again. He could have got in without Beatrice knowing. Edith would have been happy that he had returned to her and – it pains me to say this, Gary – he may have pushed those scissors into her stomach in self-defence if she had started to undress him.”

“But that would mean that she slit her wrists after the stabbing,” said Gary.

“In her mental state, anything was possible.”

“So you think Robert was capable of stabbing Edith, don’t you?”

“I can’t get my head round that. Gary. I don’t even want to think about the possibility.”

“Then don’t! Just let’s get the home fires burning!”

“Frank and Brass should be here soon.”

“So they are coming two evenings on the run, are they?”

“If not every evening this week. They are glad to have somewhere to go, I should think,” said Cleo. “I phoned them both on the spur of the moment this afternoon to check that they were coming and they were grateful.”

“I’ll help you as soon as I’ve looked at Charlie’s maths. I don’t understand why she panics about it. She is top of the class and quick on the draw.”

“I think she just wants to be near you, Gary,” Cleo said. “That’s really what we all want.”

Gary looked surprised, but hugged Cleo, made sure PeggySue was still happy, and put on an act of actually helping Charlie, who explained everything to him in such detail that he had no doubt that she fully grasped her algebra tasks. Ever since Gary had suggested she give all the letters an identity it had seemed easy, on the lines of a for apple, b for banana, c for carrot you got one apple plus two bananas equals three carrots.

“It’s funny, but it doesn’t make sense, Daddy,” Charlie had protested at the time.

“But if you say one anything plus two anything elses equals three something elses, you get the general idea,” he had said.

For reasons beyond Gary’s own powers of reasoning, since his theory was anything but watertight, Charlie had never had any trouble with algebra after that. If only solving crime were as simple, he mused.

***

Leaving Charlie deciding which gown her best Barbie should wear for dinner, Gary went back to the kitchen to tell Cleo what a brainy daughter he had.

“Algebra is like crime detection, Gary. It’s a case of getting rid of the flaws in an argument,” Cleo argued.

“What flaws are you thinking of in particular?”

“Not preheating the oven, in this case,” said Cleo. “Otherwise you could cite bad timing in the Ali case. Presumably Polly wanted to be with Ali and the desire was mutual. Why else would she have quit the protective atmosphere of the pub and gone to the crypt with him?”

“And the flaw? I can’t see one in wanting to hide away to indulge in clandestine sex. ”

“They were not fast enough, Gary.”

“Explain! Maybe their sex took a bit longer.”

“They probably intended to, but were not back before Molly came home, so she went to look for them. In the meantime someone deposited a corpse in the pub.”

“That sounds like several flaws.”

“The timing of all the incidents was coincidental, but isn’t it possible that Harry Palmer's death could provide a connection to Ali or Polly, or even Molly?”

“How?”

“We need to ask Polly if the man was there or even died before they left the pub.”

“Surely you don’t think Polly was involved in his death? Would she have left a dead man in the pub?”

“No, but she was behind the bar and maybe saw someone slipping something into the man’s drink…”

“It’s possible, of course…. But wouldn’t she have sent the man out before going off on her sex quest?”

“Another flaw,” said Cleo.

“But carry with your argument, however unlike it is.”

“OK. She ran off with Ali leaving the guy in an open pub and presumably at death’s door,” said Cleo. “That’s at the very least irresponsible, but Polly’s history is hardly flawless, is it?”

“She does take responsibility for her child, Cleo.”

“Does she? Are you sure, Gary?”

“No, but the child has a grandparent.”

“The grandparent is now behind bars, Gary.”

“So he is.”

“You’ll have to ask Polly if she saw anything at the pub. She might have seen Palmer’s killer as well as Ali’s. Putting two and two together, I’d go for the idea that Polly saw Palmer’s drink being doped,” said Cleo. “Alternatively, Ali knew the man and wanted him out of the way.”

“But that story entails Ali knowing Harry Palmer. Palmer was a harmless old soak, Cleo.”

“Are you sure? We all have a past, Gary. And that includes Ali. He worked in Middlethumpton. He may have known or been known in the underworld there.”

“can you put Frank Wetherby onto that?”

“He’s busy with the Mortimer case right now, but he will get onto Ali Lewis. We know nothing about that guy’s past. Molly Moss took him in because she needed a cook and he was looking for a job.”

“She also needed a lover.”

“That went with the job, Gary.”

“You are in a very analytical mood today. I meant to ask you if you had studied maths as well as all that shrink stuff.”

“We call it math and yes I did, but mainly statistics at university level.”

“You never cease to amaze me.”

“Charlie wanted you to work with her, Gary, not me.”

“She’s coaching me, if the truth be known. I can’t help wondering what I made of algebra all those years ago.”

“Well Methuselah, math reasoning is useful in life, too. It applies to us right now!”

“Go one. Explain!” said Gary.

“One and one makes two,” she said, patting her baby bump.

Gary groaned.

“I just hope it isn’t triplets,” he said. “And no, I won’t ask you to reason that one out.”

“I’d like it to be triplets,” said Cleo.

“I’d like to be a millionaire so that I’d be able to support the old woman who lived in a shoe.”

“The what?”

“Don’t you know the rhyme?” said Gary, and proceeded to singsong

“There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children, she didn't know what to do;
She gave them some broth without any bread;
Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.”

“I know it now,” said Cleo. “It doesn’t scan.”

Fortunately the doorbell rang and put an end to the nursery-rhyme reveries.

Charlie had heard her father reciting the nursery rhyme.

“What’s broth, Daddy?”

“Soup.”

“Are we having some?”

“Not tonight, Sweetheart!”

“I’ll answer the door,” Charlie offered and darted there with Gary hot on her heels.

***

It was inevitable that the cases of Ali and Harry Palmer would be discussed with Brass and Frank there, but not before Charlie had eaten her supper with the grownups, become drowsy and gone to bed.

“As far as I can judge,” said Brass, “you don’t have enough information to reach any conclusions.”

“You are quite right, Brass. We have so many theories that we can’t tell the wood for the trees, and we can’t make up our minds who is a suspect and who is a witness and who is neither.”

“Talk to them all – well, all the ones who survived,” said Brass, and Frank agreed.

“It should be easy to establish if Ali had contact to Palmer,” said Frank. “Ali was not exactly inconspicuous, judging from the photos I saw today.”

“No. He was tall, swarthy and extremely attractive,” said Cleo.

“A ladies’ man, in other words,” said Frank. “And Harry Palmer was an old guy who was fond of drink and had a past and at least one enemy.”

“Let’s assume Ali did not poison him,” said Cleo. “Where did the guy live? Was his well-meaning wife feeding him arsenic in small doses to hurry the dying process along?”

“That is pure hypothesis,” said Gary. “You’d better start writing thrillers while you are producing new tax-payers.”

“Check with Chris Winter in case that old guy really did die a natural death,” said Cleo. “We all need clarity on that.”

“A death is not natural if arsenic is found in the body,” said Brass.

“True,” said Gary.

“So we’d better phone Chris before anyone goes on a wild goose chase,” said Cleo.

“But following anything up that could involve Ali would be a great help,” said Gary.

“I’ll look into it, Gary,” said Frank. “I’m going to do a bit of snooping in Middlethumpton tomorrow. There’s nothing more I can do in the Mortimer case for the time being.”

“You did well, Frank. Europol are looking for the Mortimers and the Dijon police have been informed. We’ll just have wait and see what they turn up with.”

Frank Wetherby was glad that Gary Hurley seemed reconciled to having him in their midst. He was sure that Cleo had urged the D.I. to make good use of his experience as a private eye. Cleo was gratified that Gary had drawn Frank into their team with just one kind remark.

Brass was impressed with Frank. He had liked him in Frint-on-Sea, but no one had appreciated him there. They had not seemed to realize that private eyes were more than just convenient; they were essential! Or were they just more likely to stumble inconveniently over the sleaze?