Friday
Cleo and Gary would be getting married on Saturday, but that
did not prevent Friday from getting off to an aggravating start. There was no
time to think about the wedding when they had to get through an interview with
Mrs Spencer first, hoping she would admit to stabbing Ali Lewis, thus sparing
them any further speculation.
***
“We have to get Ali’s murderer behind bars, whatever it
takes, but I don’t want those women scrapping in my office,” said Gary.
“They won’t,” said Cleo. “They’ll be on the defensive,
whatever role they have played.”
“Are you sure?”
“No,” said Cleo. “But the strategy has worked before.”
***
Gary ordered Molly to be collected and brought to HQ, but
kept in a neutral room until called for. All the Spencers were now at HQ, in
separate cells and unable to communicate with one another.
“I’ll keep in touch from the observation room by phoning you
on the house phone,” said Cleo.
Gary had to fall in with that suggestion. He would make sure
that a policewoman was present. He had once been badged by a woman he had
questioned on his own, and even after that unpleasant experience had interviewed
a female suspect on his own with Cleo observing from next door. The suspect,
who of course did not know she was under observation, had tried to wiggle her
way out literally by making a pass at him. Cleo thought Gary could be very
naïve sometimes.
***
Mrs Spencer was brought in.
“I told you that I did not kill that man,” she said.
“Which man? We have proof that you killed a Mr Fullerton at
the Majestic Hotel, so you have nothing to lose, Mrs Spencer” said Gary. “You
also said you had been to the crypt.”
“I take that back,” said Mrs Spencer.
“You told me that you
had seen Molly Moss there,” said Gary. “I’d like you to explain that.”
“There was very little moonlight and I kept out of it,” said
Mrs Spencer, contradicting her previous denial. “I saw movement on the other
side of the crypt. Someone was watching the squirming couple on the floor.”
“Squirming?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’ve never heard it called that before.”
“That’s what it looked like.”
“What happened then? How come you recognized Molly and did
not challenge her? That’s hard to believe.”
“It’s the truth.”
“So you did see Molly. Do you think she saw you?”
“I hope she didn’t,” said Mrs Spencer.
It was plainly the first time she had even considered that
possibility.
“So what did you do then?”
“I decided that if Molly was out to catch Ali Lewis at his
games, since she was his official partner she should do so.”
“Did you have thoughts of being Mr Lewis’s official partner
yourself?” said Gary.
“No. I’m comfortable where I am. Mr Spencer has no idea what
I get up to when he’s not around, but he’s good for my cash flow and I’m good
in bed, so why change things?”
“I’m not from the vice squad, so I don’t have to think about
prostitution, Mrs Spencer.”
“Sex with Ali Lewis was not prostitution, Inspector. It was
a bit of fun with an unsolicited reward or two for my devotion.”
***
Cleo decided that whatever Vivienne Spencer got up to, it
would be described in euphemisms.
***
“Did you see a knife anywhere, Mrs Spencer?” said Gary. “Or
did you take one with you?”
“Why should I?”
“You hate your step-daughter, don’t you?”
“That’s not true. She hates me, Inspector,” said Mrs Spencer.
“Do you know why?”
“I was friendly with her father before her mother played out.”
“Played out? She died, Mrs Spencer.”
“That’s the same thing, isn’t it? She killed herself for
reasons best known to herself.”
“That’s very callous,” said Gary. “You know the reason for
her death and it does not tie in with the suicide idea.”
“What’s all that got to do with Ali Lewis?”
“It suggests that you are capable of killing, Mrs Spencer.”
“Me?” said the woman, deciding that she would be less free
with her comments. This cop was not as foolish as she had first thought.
“Some killers get a kick out of killing and repeat the
action to get another kick,” said Gary.
***
The house phone rang and Gary went to answer it. It was
Cleo.
“Keep it up, Gary. The woman could be innocent of Lewis’s
killing because he was a lucrative lover. But she killed that guy in the Hotel
and I think she knows that you suspect her of having a hand in the death of Polly’s
mother.”
“We should have thought of that last night,” said Gary,
keeping the identity of the caller to himself.
***
Cleo rang off. Gary realized that he had in fact lost sight
of the possibility that Mrs Spencer had ended the life of her predecessor.
“Been having sex somewhere else then?” said Mrs Spencer.
Gary ignored the comment and continued with his questioning.
“As I was saying: You will have to prove your innocence, no
matter what you are accused of.”
“That’s where you are wrong, Inspector. You’ll have to prove
that I am guilty,” said Mrs Spencer. “I would not have to prove anything and you
can’t.”
“Is that a challenge, Mrs Spencer?”
“Do you need one?”
***
Gary did not think he would get anywhere by prolonging the
questioning. Trying to arrest her for murdering the first Mrs Spencer would
meet with the same impertinence. He wished Cleo had not decided to remain
invisible. She could deal much better with hookers and housewives. But it was
Cleo’s decision so he’d better get on with it, even if his next onslaught was
going meet with a stone wall.
***
“Did you kill or help to kill Polly’s mother, Mrs Spencer?”
Gary asked. Confronted in such a startlingly abrupt way, Mrs Spencer clenched
her fists and took quite a long time to answer. Then she did what many people
do when questioned specifically: she played the innocent.
“What did you say?”
“Did you kill Mrs Spencer,” Gary repeated.
“You’d have to prove it,” said Mrs Spencer again, pulling
herself together.
“We would.”
“How? She was cremated. I made sure of that,” said Mrs
Spencer.
***
Cleo would say that was almost a confession.
***
“So why are you nervous?” Gary asked.
“I am not nervous,” the woman said sharply.
Gary picked up his house phone to call Cleo. Mrs Spencer
thought it was going to be about the first Mrs Spencer.
“Wait a minute!” she said.
“Worried, Mrs Spencer?”
“Can you come in?” said Gary into the handset.
“Sure. I was going to anyway. You are on quite a sticky
wicket if she calls what she thinks is your bluff, Gary.”
“I need you here,” said Gary before putting the phone down.
“Has that nigger been listening in again?”
“Hold your tongue!” said Gary.
A minute later, Cleo was sitting behind Gary’s desk looking
at Mrs Spencer.
“What gives you the right to insult me, Mrs Spencer?” Cleo
could not resist asking. “That kind of remark tends to reflect guilt.”
“You are a shit,” said the woman to Cleo.
“Is that the pot calling the kettle black, Mrs Spencer?”
said Gary.
“For the last few years DNA has been saved from victims of a
violent death, Mrs Spencer.” said Cleo.
“So what?”
“Not so long ago the late Mrs Spencer died a violent death,
if only, according to the inquest, by her own hand,” said Cleo. “The coroner
gave the body free for burial or cremation.”
“How the hell does she know that?” said Mrs Spencer.
“You’d be surprised how much I know,” said Cleo.
“So what are you trying to tell me?”
“Poisonous substances are detectable in DNA,” said Cleo.
“So what? The woman takes sleeping tablets then slits her
wrists in the bath!”
“Someone else would have slit YOUR wrists, Mrs Spencer,”
said Cleo and the woman grasped her left wrist with her right hand, a reflex
Gary did not miss.”
“Oops. A slip of the tongue, Mrs Spencer. I meant HER
wrists.”
Mrs Spencer looked scared for the first time.
***
Nigel sat in his corner scribbling away. He was also
nervous. Cleo was walking a tightrope with her questioning. There was no such
thing as that old DNA archive. DNA would not be kept and examined if there had
been no crime.
“Who found her unconscious?” Gary asked.
“Her husband, that is my husband,” said Mrs Spencer.
“And you thought it was a golden opportunity to get rid of
Mrs Spencer, I expect,” said Cleo. “Mr Spencer was not hard to persuade, was
he?”
“I’m not saying any more,” said Mrs Spencer.
“There’s no need, Mrs Spencer. We’ve heard all we need to
hear,” said Gary.
“My …”
“We’ll listen to Mr Spencer’s version and you will not be
able to confer beforehand.”
This was a new slant on things with which Mrs Spencer had
not reckoned. The first Mrs Spencer’s death had receded into the past. They had
not been suspected of any wrongdoing.
***
Gary phoned for Mrs Moss to be brought in.
***
“What’s all this about, Cleo,” Molly said angrily, looking
at Cleo before seeing Mrs Spencer. Nigel had received prior instructions as to
what could happen if the two women met face to face, so Mrs Spencer was now standing
in front of him in the far corner of the room to make a diagonal confrontation
more dramatic.
“They caught you, did they, Viv?” said Molly triumphantly, after
initially recoiling at the sight of Vivienne Spencer.
Mrs Spencer lunged forwards and her intention to go for
Molly was intercepted by Gary.
“I saw you in the crypt, Molly. What were you doing there?”
said Mrs Spencer.
“What were YOU doing there, Viv?” said Molly.
“I left before you did, Molly,” said Mrs Spencer, startled
that Molly Moss could have seen her there.
“Did you kill Ali, Molly?” Mrs Spencer asked.
“Hold your horses, Ladies,” said Gary. “I ask the questions
here.”
“Then ask the right ones, Mr Detective,” said Molly.
Vivienne Spencer burst out laughing.
“Did you kill Ali Lewis, Molly?” Gary asked.
“No, I didn’t,” said Molly. “I saw Mr Spencer go into the
crypt. Ask him about Ali’s murder.”
It was the first time Mr Spencer had been mentioned.
“Why would he want to kill Ali Lewis,” Gary asked, and a
strange phenomenon occurred. The two suspects bonded and replied with one voice
“For raping his daughter.”
***
Gary instructed the
guards to take the women away and put them in arrest cells. Then he exchanged a
few words with Cleo.
“I can’t believe it,” said Gary. “They are in league.”
“Not as murderers,” said Cleo.
“I’d bet any money that Mrs Spencer killed her predecessor,
however,” said Gary. “She almost confessed.”
“Sure, but we still have to decide who killed Mr Lewis and
get someone to confess to that.”
“You make it all sound easy, Cleo,” said Gary.
“I wish it was.”
“OK. If it wasn’t those women or Mr Spencer, who else would
have had a motive except … except Polly?” said Gary, reluctant to add her to
the list.
“Let’s ask Spencer. He can only say no.”
***
Gary phoned security and had Mr Spencer brought in. The man
was irate.
“You said I could go home last night and I’m still here, Mr
Hurley,” he said.
“Did you go to the crypt the night Ali Lewis was murdered?”
Gary asked.
“Which night was that?”
“Last Friday, Mr Spencer. You have a very short memory,”
said Cleo.
“Oh yes. I went looking for my wife,” said Spencer.
“And did you find her?” said Gary.
“No. I did not go into the crypt.”
“Why were you looking for her there?” Cleo asked and Spencer
hesitated before answering.
“I think she’s been unfaithful, Miss Hartley.”
“In the crypt?”
“That is what I wanted to find out.”
“But you didn’t find her there, did you?”
“No. It was too dark.”
***
“To change the subject,” said Gary, “the reason you are here
now is for me to charge you with the murder of your first wife.”
To Cleo’s gratification, Mr Spencer did not beat about the bush,
though it was certainly to his detriment.
“Has that little bitch been singing?” he said in tones that
surprised Gary and Cleo.
“Loud and clear, Mr Spencer,” said Cleo, taking over from
Gary, who was gobsmacked at the way the morning was going.
“You’ll have to prove it,” said Spencer.
“That’s exactly what Mrs Spencer said,” remarked Cleo. “But
two confessions are even better than one and we can consult the DNA samples in the
archives to substantiate our suspicions.”
“Damned hussy,” said Spencer.
“I hope you do not mean Miss Hartley,” said Gary, seriously
annoyed at the man’s rudeness.
“If the cap fits…” said Spencer.
Cleo shook her head and Gary did not take Spencer by the
throat as he would have liked to do.
“About Mr Lewis…” Cleo continued. “My research tells me that
if you’ve killed once, it’s easy to kill again. Is that true of you, Mr
Spencer?”
“I want my lawyer,” he said.
“That’s what they all say,” said Cleo. “Your lawyer can’t
rescue you from this mess, Mr Spencer. Homicide is rewarded with a life
sentence. Where I come from, two murders would earn two life sentences one
after the other, and that would be longer than you are likely to survive.”
“What are you talking about?” said Spencer. “I can tell you
this: if Vivienne has confessed to something, she can carry the can.”
“You know damn well what all this is about, Mr Spencer,”
said Gary. “Not only am I charging you with the murder of your late wife, but I
also suspect you of involvement in the murder of Ali Lewis.”
“Prove it!” shouted Spencer. “Why would I kill Lewis?”
“You had a noble motive, Mr Spencer,” said Cleo. “You wanted
to save Polly from further humiliation.”
“But the blood-stained knife she found under the
draining-board in your kitchen also bore your fingerprints, and those of your
wife, Mr Spencer,” continued Gary, who was now bluffing in an effort to get Spencer
to confess.
“It can’t have. I…”
“Wiped it clean?”
Mr Spencer shuddered.
“So Polly told you about the knife,” said Cleo.
“I found it. I wanted to clear up so that Polly would not
have to.”
“You thought you had wedged the knife back securely, I
expect,” said Cleo. “Why didn’t you wash it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you really think Polly had put it there?” said Cleo.
“I didn’t know, did I? I put it back so that no one would
know I had found it.”
“That is at least logical,” said Cleo. “We’ll ask Polly what
she thinks about that explanation.”
“Get them to take him away, Nigel,” said Gary.
To Spencer he said “Take my advice and confess, Mr Spencer.”
***
Spencer was handcuffed and led away. There would be no
chance of him conferring with his profligate spouse. The sleuths would talk to
Polly and then go for a short walk in the March sunshine before concluding the rest
of the day’s business.
***
“You don’t believe Spencer, do you Cleo?” said Gary.
“Not really, but I can’t get the timing of the knife clear.
If Polly murdered Ali she must have gone home before her father and hidden the
knife. Why didn’t she wash it?”
“Search me. She was probably so shocked that it did not
occur to her,” said Gary. “But why did she bring the knife to us?”
“It’s possible that she was having second thoughts. Maybe
she wanted to confess,” said Cleo.
“She didn’t confess. She ran away,” said Gary. “And I’d like
to know where the knife was when I found her on the crypt steps.”
“She may have thrown it away. She retrieved it when you were
down in the crypt and ran off with it.”
“That at least makes sense,” said Gary.
***
Polly was brought in, eyes red from weeping. She was dishevelled
and nervous.
“Polly, I have to tell you that your father probably killed Ali
Lewis,” said Gary.
“Did ‘e?” said Polly. “I saw ‘im in the woods that night.”
“Why didn’t you tell us that before now, Polly?” said Cleo.
“You were in great danger, Polly,” said Gary. “Your father
could have killed you, like…”
“Like he killed my mother?”
“He and your step-mother did that together,” said Gary.
“I knew that all the time,” said Polly. “I heard them
talking about getting married when my mother was still alive.”
“We think your mother tried to kill herself with sleeping
pills,” said Cleo. “She was already unconscious when your step-mother got your
father to carry her to the bathroom.”
Cleo had reconstructed the crime as she thought it must have
happened. Polly did not contradict her.
“I heard her at it later with my father,“ said Polly through
sobs. “And all the time my mother lay dead in the bath.”
“I suppose your mother knew about your father’s affair,
didn’t she?” said Cleo.
“Yes Miss.”
“How terrible,” said Cleo, putting an arm round Polly’s
shoulder. The girl wept bitterly.
***
Gary wondered why Vivienne had allowed Polly to survive. Killing
Polly’s mother had been very easy and the daughter could have followed her in
another faked suicide.
***
“We’ll get you a hot drink in the canteen,” said Cleo.
***
Gary was doubtful about the wisdom of treating Polly as a
victim, but grateful to have a few moments to reflect on the situation
Suffering grief for her mother did not make Polly innocent. In fact, she had
reason enough to take revenge, and she would do that as she thought it most
effective.
***
“That was nasty,” said Nigel, when they had left.
“It was, wasn’t it?” said Gary.
“I hope Miss Hartley will be all right,” said Nigel. “That
was tough on a lady expecting any day now.”
“Don’t worry,” said Gary. “Cleo’s a tough old boot.”
***
Gary invited Nigel to a cup of coffee and persevered with light
banter all the way down to the canteen. Polly and the young policewoman who had
been guarding her were drinking hot chocolate and Cleo had a milk coffee in
front of her. She was making a phone call.
***
“Just a moment, Frank,” she said. “Gary has just come in. I’ll
ask him.”
“May Frank bring Mrs Palmer in to see her husband?” Cleo
asked.
“Sure. I’ll get it sorted straightaway, but next week would
be better timing.”
Cleo told Frank that would be in order but better in the
following week. He should notify Gary when they arrived.
“I don’t think it will have any bearing on the case,” said
Gary.
“No, but it will make things easier for the widow,” said
Cleo. “I understand that she was very cut up about Palmer’s death. She might
have an idea who gave him the poisoned vitamin tablets.”
“Take Polly back to my office please,” said Gary.
“Sure. Come along, Polly,” said the policewoman. Cleo
accompanied them.
***
Gary checked back with Chris.
“It was arsenic all the way in Harry Palmer’s case, wasn’t it?”
said Gary.
“It’s easily obtained and anything else would have worked
too fast,” said Chris. “He was supposed to be dying a natural death!”
“But in the end it did not go fast enough,” said Gary.
“No, Gary, and that’s the way a lot of poisonings end. The
killer gets nervous and wants to get it over with, but you can’t calculate just
how long arsenic will take to act even in fairly large quantities. That’s why
shrewd killers wait until symptoms develop that could be from natural causes,
such as alopecia in the consumption of arsenic.”
“So Harry Palmer might have dropped dead on the street,
ostensibly from heart disease.”
“That’s about the size of it,” said Chris. “It would have
been more convenient than what did happen. Any idea who went to the pub with him?”
“No. Whoever brought him there or came with him left him to
his fate, Chris. We were unable to find anyone who had seen him arrive.”
“At some point he could have been in the company of someone
who laced his drink, unless he meant to kill himself. Where did he go before he
went to Huddlecourt Minor. That may be where he was given arsenic in coffee or alcohol?
He then moved on to the pub where he was found dead.”
“We know nothing about his haunts, Chris. Frank will look
into that. After the weekend, I’ll get the squad onto it. Whoever did it is
probably bathing in a feeling of security by now.”
“Try the pizza takeaway, Gary. That gossipy woman might know
something.”
“Or our friend Mr Pooth might,” said Gary.
“Who is that?”
“A doorman at that slot machine palace, Chris. I’m surprised
you don’t know him. He has a long list of sentences to his credit.”
“I’m a forensic scientist, not a snoop, Gary,” said Chris, “and
I don’t frequent such dives in my free time.”
“No offence meant,” said Gary.
“None taken,” said Chris.
“I nearly forgot why I really rang, Chris: Frank is bringing
Mrs Palmer in to say goodbye to her husband.”
“I don’t suppose she
did the old man in, did she?”
“No, Chris. Frank is sure of that. She had no reason to
think things would be better for her with him gone. In fact, there’s always a
chance that whoever gave Palmer those laced vitamin pills might want to seal
her lips forever.”
“I hope she’s under surveillance, Gary.”
“If we observed every hooker in the vicinity, we’d have no
time for anything else.”
“True.”
“So sad to say, Mrs Palmer will be left to her fate. Talk
later,” said Gary.
***
Back in his office, Gary found Polly sitting wordless with
her head bowed and hands clenched. Cleo was sitting a Gary’s desk. She had
stopped trying to talk to her.
“I phoned Chris,” Gary told Cleo.
“Anything new?”
“Not really.”
Gary turned to Polly and she cowered fearfully.
Her body language did not escape Cleo’s eagle eyes.
”Back to you, young lady. Do you want to go home?” Gary
asked.
“Yes Sir.”
“Nigel, can you get a car and take Polly home?”
Nigel was not pleased, but he would do it. Polly was
grateful. Cleo was sceptical.
“You can go now,” said Gary, “but Polly…”
“Yes Sir?”
“Don’t run away again!”
“No Sir.”
Can you be back by two, Nigel?”
“Not until then?”
“Get some lunch on the way back. Romano will do you
something tasty and it’s on the house.”
“OK. If you can do without me,” said Nigel.
“It will be difficult, but I have Cleo to tide me over.”
“He’s joking, Nigel,” said Cleo. “See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Wedding bells, Nigel, wedding bells!”
“Oh yes, of course,” said Nigel sheepishly and departed with
Polly in tow.
***
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Gary,” said Cleo.
***
Driving girls home was not Nigel’s thing, but he was officially
on duty. He wondered what the girl would have to say for herself. He needn’t
have. She did not say a word on the journey and only gave him a brief smile and
wave when she got out of the car and went to the front door. Nigel was
relieved. He had no idea what he would have said to her.
***
Gary and Cleo went down to the canteen.
“Coffee or tea?” Gary asked.
“Milk coffee, please, and a sandwich.”
“Ham or cheese?”
“Whichever has the least curly crusts.”
***
Cleo was quite glad to have a moment to think over what she
had witnessed in Gary’s office. The Spencers were a mismatched couple by any
standards, but they had one thing in common: they were killers. Would Polly be
able to live with the knowledge that her mother had died at the hands of her
father and the hooker he had brought home? Her aversion to her step-mother was
well-founded. Her protective attitude to her father was something Cleo did not understand.
***
“Polly was trying to avoid her father being accused,” said
Gary, as he returned to the table with a tray of not-so-good-looking goodies.
It was as if he had read her thoughts.
“You answered my question before I could ask it, and you are
right, of course. I would probably have done the same if I’d had a father who
cared about me.”
“Meaning?”
“Love – or what passes for it - was the motive for both the
Spencer’s killings. He was probably bored with his marriage. He had done his
best for Polly, he thought, and now he would do his best for himself.”
“Go on!”
“When Polly was whisked away by Coppins, Mr Spencer tried to
find her, eventually paid for her to return home, and has since then given her
and his grandson a home, albeit under the same roof as his second wife. When
Polly returned home, Vivienne had already usurped Polly’s mother. Then this
queen of hearts actually moved into Spencer’s house.”
“Her trump card, so to say,” said Gary. “I wonder where the
little boy has been.”
“Neighbours, I should think, Gary. Polly will have seen to
that. Send social services in if you are nervous.”
“I think I’m more nervous about social services,” said Gary.
“Not any more, surely,” said Cleo. “They have weeded out the
evil-doers. There’s a completely new team now.”
“If you say so.”
“But it’s too late to help poor Mrs Spencer. Vivienne
brought out the evil in Spencer. He killed to safeguard his own infatuation and
regardless of the value of his first wife’s life, if not as a wife, then as a
mother and grandmother,” said Cleo. “If Spencer killed Ali, it was to spare
Polly. A last ditch deed of chivalry.”
“I’ll get a report out. The terrible two will be brought
before a magistrate and detained to await trial.”
***
Cleo and Gary were still drinking coffee and nibbling with
little enjoyment at their lunch-time sandwiches when Frank arrived in the canteen
with a very tearful Mrs Palmer. On reflection, Gary was glad that Frank had
thought better of waiting until the following week.
“Lizzie did not want to wait any longer.”
“That’s not surprising,” said Cleo.
Lizzie Palmer waited sadly for something to happen. Cleo moved
to the woman and put her arm round her.
“You are grieving, aren’t you?” said Cleo. “I’m so sorry.”
“I sent him away, you see. I didn’t know I’d never see him
alive again.”
“His death was not your fault, Mrs Palmer,” said Gary,
wondering about the extraordinary garb the woman had on. Her fingers were heavy
with cheap rings and her finger nails had sparkly bits stuck on them. She was
wearing a sagging sequined top, showing off shoulders tattooed as far down as
her sagging breasts. Her earlobes were stretched from the weight of heavy
metallic earrings. Her makeup was grossly overdone and she smelt as though she
had sprayed herself liberally with an air freshener.
Mrs Palmer saw Gary looking her up and down and said
“Harry’s favourite clothes, Sir. He would have laughed if I’d turned up in
black.”
“You look fine to me, Mrs Palmer,” Gary said as he took
Lizzie’s hand and told her to keep her head held high and think of the nice
things in her life with her husband.
“That’s the only way to deal with grief,” he said.
“Yes Sir.”
“I’ll just phone pathology,” said Gary. “I expect it will be
OK.”
It was.
“I won’t accompany you,” said Gary. “Look after her, Frank.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” Cleo asked.
“No Miss,” said Mrs Palmer. “Death is not a good omen for
birth.”
***
Lizzie Palmer thanked Frank for making it possible for her
to say goodbye to Harry and said she would get the bus home when she had done
some shopping, but Frank insisted on accompanying her to the mortuary.
Cleo and Gary sat opposite one another silently, each
thinking his own thoughts. Gary’s hand went out to Cleo’s. She clutched it
fiercely.
***
Frank returned not long after and broke the silence. Lizzie
had not taken long to say goodbye to Harry.
“That woman is to be pitied,” he said. “She had no idea what
Harry Palmer got up to when he was not at home, so I have no information yet on
his other activities. I think it was Lizzie’s first experience of family, but
Harry was a drinker. He didn’t knock her about, but she got angry with him and
threw him out regularly, the woman in the next door flat told me.”
“When did you have time to talk to her?” Cleo asked.
“Lizzie suddenly realized that she was not dressed as Harry
would have wanted and left me standing in the corridor,” Frank explained.
"I would have asked the neighbour more questions, but Lizzie came out of
her flat dressed in the regalia you saw, and the woman slipped back into her
flat so as not to be seen. I wonder if I should go back and talk to her?”
“No, Frank. Lizzie might see you. I’ll get Mia Curlew to go.
I think she can deal with it if you put her in the picture. What the woman has
to say may not be of any relevance to Harry Palmer’s death. But I don’t suppose
those neighbours were particularly neighbourly. They might be rivals. Would you
like me to introduce you to Mia now?”
“Yes please, Gary.”
Gary phoned around and Mia soon came into the canteen. She
was eager for a chance to do something new. Her job in the drugs squad was
difficult as she had not yet been accepted by her colleagues, men nearing
retirement age who were more worried about keeping their jobs than chasing
dealers. Frank and Mia sat at a table in a corner of the canteen to get the
situation clear. Mia would go straight to Beethoven Street. With any luck she
would not see anything of Lizzie, since that lady was shopping in town.
“I hope Mia doesn’t scare the life out of that neighbour,”
said Frank after the policewoman had left. “I just asked her to find out if
there was anything relevant that she could say about Palmers.”
“I’ll phone Roger to make sure those drug squad guys don’t complain
that Mia is not in their office doing their office chores,” said Gary. “Whatever
we find out might get us a bit further in the Palmer case, Frank. We must find
his killer. I’m glad you are taking the pressure off Cleo right now. Don’t
forget to come to the Registry Office, will you?”
“I’m surprised you are bothered with crime at all with a
very special day looming up,” said Frank. “Is there anything I can do for you this
afternoon?”
“I want you to look into the staffing angle at chemist’s
shops, Frank,” said Gary. “It isn’t my pad and I’d be treading on toes if I got
seriously involved in drugs cases, but this one includes a murder, so it’s
different. If the Hartley Agency does some of the investigating it will save me
getting too obviously involved, and we could be quicker on the draw than the
drugs squad. I don’t want to make enemies in a different department, but from
what Mia Curlew as said, things can only get better there.”
“I’ll be glad to help, Gary.”
“If I’m not in my office, Nigel will be. You could do with
some time off yourself, Frank. Go to Romano’s for pasta and a drink and get him
to charge it to me.”
***
Gary went back to his office. Cleo spent time giving Frank a
few more ideas about the drugs case.
“We think chemists hired corrupt female assistants who then
advanced to helping or even being dealers. They might have been ordering
illegal drugs at the expense of the shop and selling them under the counter.”
“I suppose those assistants moved on after that, changed
their appearance and turned up somewhere else,” said Frank.
“Seems like it. But we are all taking the weekend off and
you should do the same when you’ve had a look at the chemist’s place. On Monday
it will be business as usual.”
“OK,” said Frank. “I’ll drive to our office and read the
reports connected with what you have told me.”
“Get that lunch first, Frank.”
“I will. I am peckish.”
“You can get the reports on the drugs case on your tablet
from the cloud at our office,” said Cleo.
“You’re great people to work for,” said Frank, and to Cleo’s
surprise he raised her right hand to his lips and dropped a kiss on it.
“Just one thing, Frank,” said Cleo. “How are you getting
along with that bakery assistant?”
Frank blushed. “She’s quite a hot number.”
“That can’t be such a bad thing.”
“There’s hot and hot,” said Frank and left Cleo wondering
what he meant.
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