Episode 6 - Spot on

Burton had been dead four days and no progress seemed to have been made in that investigation.

Although the coming weekend would be taken up with that trip to track Hatherton South Africa, Cleo had to tackle the problem an anxious mother had brought her. Her daughter was ‘acting funny’ and the mother thought something was getting at her.

Gary had recognized signs Cleo said the girl’s mother had described as probably the result of the girl being plied with illegal substances and he would have the girl's blazer collected examined. That would be a step in the right direction, as drugs have a habit of leaving traces. The drugs department was extremely interested in anything that could lead to the breakup of a group of dealers who were hovering around school playgrounds and youth centres in the district. Cleo also expected to be roped in any day concerning a lover-boy suspicion.

“That could never have happened in my day,” Dorothy claimed. She thought it was quite scandalous that personable young men with abundant criminal energy were picking up young girls looking for their first romance. After a period of thinking it really was romance, the love-struck girls were sent out to solicit, clad in provocative clothes they thought were grown-up. They were to prove their 'love' by helping their 'lover-boy' over cash flow problems. That was nothing less than prostitution.

Cleo was always amazed how cagey or ignorant parents could be about what their kids got up to, especially if it was anything concerning sex. Young men hanging around teenage girls who were looking for adventure and escape from bossy parents should be watched carefully and the girls’ wardrobes and satchels should be searched regularly. Parents should have no scruples about meddling in the private life of young daughters. It was useful to bear in mind that the cavaliers who approached their daughters would have pockets full of mood-enhancing addictive substances.

***

Sergeant Cooper was a young policeman who had introduced his dog Spot to the drugs squad and officially trained it to sniff out drugs. It was a nondescript mongrel with ancestors that included Jack Russell, other kinds of spaniel and a rather larger dog with long fur. Cooper often went on missions in jeans and sweater. It was only possible to get near suspected dealers and the like if they did not know who he was. At Cleo's office, one sniff at the girl's jacket caused Spot to yowl gently and thump on the floor with his tail. Those were signs that he had detected an illegal substance and was feeling justly proud of himself.

"Good lad, Spot," Cooper praised as he always did when the dog had caught the whiff of a drug.

After looking more closely at the contents of the blazer pockets, Cooper announced that it was probably cocaine.

“Spot is really clever, isn’t he, Mr Cooper?” said Cleo, amazed at the acumen of the quaint little animal.

“Spot is great dog, Miss Hartley. He works fast and never makes a mistake."

"He's a mongrel, isn't he?" commented Cleo. "I thought only special breeds could do that job."

"No. Any dog can be trained if it’s intelligent enough. It’s like us humans. You can’t go by looks. Spot is highly intelligent. Our squad collie - a lovely lady called Godiva - got away from her trainer in search of a little romance and Spot was the result. She seems to have paired up with a Romeo much smaller than herself. Spot's legs are too short for his girth. He's not much of a looker, but he's a damn good snoop."

Cooper produced a large plastic sack and stuffed the blazer into it, then gave Spot some dog biscuits as a reward.

"You'll get the jacket back eventually," he told Cleo.

"That's the least of my worries, Sergeant. If the girl is taking drugs or dealing in them, the police are going to move in and the girl will be in deep trouble."

"We have to catch the small fry and hope they'll lead us to the bigwigs, Miss Hartley."

“Small fry?”

“Those kids are not just victims, you see. Please don't say anything about the drugs yet, not even to the girl's parents. It's better if we can work undercover. The school will be under surveillance from tomorrow. And we can move in very fast if we have to."

"OK. I'll just say you collected the blazer and won't mention the dog."

"And the mother should tell her daughter the blazer's at the cleaner's."

"Good idea."

“What name should I pin on the blazer?”

“Badger, Mr Cooper.”

“That’s a funny name for a human.”

Sergeant Cooper trotted off with Spot in tow. They were quite innocuous. Who would have guessed what they did for a living?

Cleo reflected that once again she was up against something she could not handle without forensic support that included a dog called Spot without a spot to his name. She would have to ask the woman to take her daughter for a blood test. She was not looking forward to phoning that distraught mother. At times like these she was quite glad she had no children to worry about.

***

While Cleo was dealing with Spot’s visit among other cases, Dorothy had spent some of Thursday sewing herself a pinafore with pockets big enough to take a camera or mobile phone and her sleuthing memo book and biro. She was glad that Jane was at home to have her brains picked by Dorothy about routine things such as how much detergent to put in the water. Though Dorothy was adept at mastering situations, mopping a tennis court sized area of linoleum was something she had not attempted before.

"The first time I did the mopping," said Jane, adding several spoons of sugar to her coffee and looking disapprovingly when Dorothy put her hand over her own cup to stop the same thing happening to hers, "I poured the whole bottle in the bucket of water and had a terrible job getting rid of the slime. I think I mopped that floor three times. Don't do that."

"No, I definitely won't do that," said Dorothy, wondering if all the instructions were going to be on that level. "What about door keys? I saw that some of the rooms were locked."

"We try to control how many changing rooms are open because everyone makes such a mess. The more traffic there is, the more we have to clean. They take showers and leave talc and stuff everywhere."

"So some rooms are open and some are not?"

"Yes. If a room is locked you can't go in."

Ignoring the undeniable logic of that ingenuous statement, Dorothy pressed on.

“Not even to clean?"

"Not even to clean."

"That sounds a bit fishy to me."

"And don't ask questions. Miss Norton doesn't like that."

Dorothy did not delve deeper, though she would have liked answers to several more questions including finding out if Jane had been snooping.  

“Would you do the last couple of hours for me, Dorothy? Then I can do some shopping with Jim.”

“I don’t see why not, Jane. That will break me in gently.”

“You won’t need to do the floors. Just wipe all the machines with a damp cloth and dust around a bit. I’ll share my wages with you.”

“No need, Jane. Just think of it as a reward for helping me.”

Dorothy phoned Cleo to say she would take over from Jane for a couple of hours. She had gone on a lot about locked doors being out of bounds.

"She has probably been instructed t that effect, Dorothy. Or she may just have wanted to air her importance. Locked doors are simply a way of keeping nosey people out. "

"Will I see you on Saturday to tell you how I got on?"

"I'm going away …to London to meet an old friend tomorrow," Cleo improvised. "Robert's at home if you need anything, but I'm going to the Wellness Centre in the morning, Dorothy. I'm expecting to meet Miss Norton."

"What about Gary, Cleo? What is he doing?"

"That's a good question! Should I know. Dorothy?"

At that point Cleo had to decide whether to take Dorothy into her confidence about the Hatherton investigation, but she decided not to. Dorothy would fuss if she knew what Cleo was really going to do over the weekend.

***

It would be nice to report that Dorothy had a productive couple of hours standing in for Jane at the Wellness Centre, but it had all been rather frustrating. The only useful information she gained was that there was a security system with cameras everywhere and numerous monitors displaying what was going on. They all came together in a locked room labelled ‘Security’. Today, Henry had hovered over Dorothy, watching her every move while she cleaned up.

"What's behind that door, Henry?" she had asked, and Henry told her that Miss Norton did not want people going into rooms unless they had permission.

"We can't have just anyone going in there," he said. "I'll get the key from reception and you can go in to dust around.”

Apart from the monitors showing reception, entrance and various corners of the big circuit room, there didn't seem to be anything of interest. One or two of the security monitors were switched off. Dorothy wondered which parts of the building they would show. She was new to computers. Her sister Vera had bought her a laptop and shown her how to write e-mails and browse the internet, but she was not really enthusiastic, probably because she had yet to appreciate the potential of being able to find out what was going on at the other end of the globe.

Henry watched her every move in what he proudly called ‘the computer room’. Dorothy knew she should not show any curiosity. If she just went along with everything. She was sure that the following week she would be allowed to clean up without supervision. Why should anyone suspect that an old woman saving up for a new washing machine could be concerned about anything that went on behind the scenes?

Two other utility rooms were locked. One was an extra changing room that had not been in use that week, and the other was being converted into a small hairdressing and nail studio.

"Your friend is coming for a hairdo next Wednesday," Henry told Dorothy.

"Really? Which one?"

"The wonderfully well-rounded one. What's her name again?"

"Hartley?" Dorothy was not sure that Cleo would like that description of her.

"No, not the dark-skinned one. She’s quite svelte in comparison. I’m thinking about Delilah. She’s a very round lady, but pretty. Philippe will enjoy styling that gorgeous auburn hair."

Henry volunteered the information that Philippe only came on Wednesdays because he had private customers and styled them at home, but he was going to come in three times a week once the room was fully equipped and he had organized his private rota. Ladies wanted beautifying when they'd finished their round of healthy physical exercise, he told her. Dorothy said it was a good idea and what a pity it was that she didn't have the money for such luxuries.

"Never mind," he comforted her. "I'm sure Philippe will have time for you and it won't cost you anything."

Considering Dorothy had worn her hair scraped back into a bun for as long as she could remember, she was a little put out by Henry's substitute generosity.

"Oh, I think I'm too old for all that," she said.

"Don't you believe it, Dotty. Philippe can work wonders."

Dorothy had never been called Dotty before. She was tempted to tell him not to, but decided it was exactly right for her status. Henry had warmed to Dorothy. She was a bit like his mother. To seal the bond, he kissed her lightly on both cheeks, exuding genuine Chanel 5 and genuine affection.

Dorothy was so surprised that she only blinked and smiled. It took her all the way back to Upper Grumpsfield on the bus to get over that gesture of affection that had rubbed off the scent of Chanel 5 onto her jumper. She reflected that things might have been different if she had had a son, a thought that was immediately followed by anger against Laura Finch, who had been so selfish that she had given her son to strangers. Poor Jason. He had been nice, too, and he had given her a light kiss on each cheek once. Mother and son both murdered. What a terrible world.