Episode 21 - Manic Friday

It was going to be one of those mornings. After Colin left, Cleo was so deep in thought about the implication of Julie being keen on Gary and Gary stripping Julie with his eyes that she jumped when the phone rang.

“You startled me, Gary.”

“Sorry. Penny for your thoughts.”

“Colin is worried that you and Julie might get together. He did not say so in many words, but I got the impression that he thinks you were stripping her with your eyes.”

“I assure you I wasn’t but she’s good for a flirt and it covers up our relationship.”

“Colin knows about us,” said Cleo.

“Did he guess or did you tell him?”

“I had to tell him. He’ll keep it to himself. He really loves Julie and is afraid that a Casanova could lure her away.”

“I’ve never thought of myself in that light, Cleo.”

“I haven’t, either.”

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

“I don’t love you for your talents as a seducer, Gary, though I admit you have great talent in that direction.”

“Thanks. I’ll remember that next time.” said Gary.

“So what did you phone me for?” 

“Colin sent me his report and it was very interesting. He’s extremely efficient. He’ll make a good lawyer.”

“I agree. “

“But I’m ringing you because Chris has come up with something very surprising and I think you should know about it straightaway," said Gary.

"About the drugs girl?"

"No. Not this time."

"Sounds dramatic."

"It is, though comparing DNA samples is routine these days even if prints are still a major factor," said Gary.

"Sadly, Private detectives normally don't have your kind of support unless we get our clients to pay for it."

"You will always have my support, and Chris’s He took a team to the Temple house and collected evidence including a swab and fingerprints from Mrs Temple,” Gary reported. “Mrs Temple apparently swore like a trooper at the ritual.”

"That doesn't surprise me. What did the guys give her as an explanation?"

“That she was to be eliminated from the list of suspects. Normal practice to protect the innocent. She believed them.”

“Awesome! Now we know she has performed two murders  successfully. It isn’t had to see her as Shirley’s killer, but I don’t think she is,” said Cleo.

"There’s more! Preliminary comparisons of prints revealed that some of the unidentified fingerprints at Burton's barn were May Temple’s. What do you say about that?"

"Wow! Mrs Temple was probably there without Shirley's knowledge," said Cleo. “I don’t think either Shirley or her mother knew much about one another’s activities.”

"There's more."

"Go on!”

"Hatherton's DNA matches Shirley's."

"That’s really awesome!"

"The match is so close that he must be her father."

"That fits in with my theory about Mrs Temple.”

“One you haven’t actually confided in me.”

“I’ve only just thought of it.”

“Go on!”

“Something based on what Dorothy once said – but also on Conan Doyle.”

“Are you going to tell me now, Cleo?”

“Not for the moment, but watch this space, Sweetheart!”

***

“Do you think Shirley was suspicious about her parentage, Cleo?"

"You knew her better.”

“Not that much better, Cleo.”

“Shirley was brainwashed into believing she was Mr Temple's offspring from an earlier relationship and that Mrs Temple was only her stepmother,” said Cleo. “But she might have known that Mrs Temple had been in an affair shortly before her marriage. That isn’t in Colin’s report, but it might explain things.”

“You’d better ask her, Cleo. Only one person knows the truth."

"The fiendish Mrs Temple."

"Right in one. She trusts you, so you can ask her things I can’t!”

"If what I think is right, she might have been hoping to see Hatherton at Burton's barn," Cleo suggested.

"I thought that, too. It would explain quite a lot. But how did she know he went there?"

“Could Shirley have known?” Cleo speculated. “Or she told Mrs Temple stories about cases in which she was involved without being aware of the implication of the name Hatherton. Supposing Mrs Temple had not known that Hatherton was still doing business in the UK? Wouldn’t she be shocked to hear that the man who fathered her child and then left her had turned up in the district?”

“That does not mean that Mrs Temple would tell Shirley that Hatherton was her father,” said Gary. “Shirley was too much of a cop not to pursue some kind of inquiry into that if she had.”

“It all happened within a day or two, Gary. Perhaps that’s why she was killed.”

“That’s a thought. What a mucky business!” said Gary. "I’ve kept quiet about Mrs Temple’s evil deeds up to now, but I can’t do that much longer."

“Take it slowly, Gary. I told you about those killings, but no one knows when. It’s no problem to say you started investigating immediately. I would not contradict that. If those guys at HQ wanted to get at me, they’d have a bigger problem, since Mrs Temple is a client and I have to be discreet for as long as it takes, whatever she did in the past.”

"So you’ll go and see her again?”

"Yes.”

“Today?"

"Yes, but if I tell her beforehand she might be out."

"This means a lot to me, Cleo. Connecting people who at first seem to be total strangers is one of the most fascinating parts of our jobs."

Cleo thought Dorothy had probably taught him that.

"You're right. Do you have a photo of Hatherton to show Mrs Temple?"

"I'll mail you one."

"I'll be in touch a.s.a.p."

"If I don't hear from you, I'll come looking for you, Cleo. The woman's dangerous."

"Don’t worry, Gary. As long as she thinks I'm on her side it'll be OK. I'll say I'm sorting out the funeral arrangements to save her bothering and would like to contact Shirley’s biological father. Then I’ll watch her reaction. Maybe she'll volunteer more information. I won't show her the photo unless absolutely necessary."

"You should be writing crime fiction. Can I come with you to the witch’s hovel?"

"One day I’ll write, maybe, with a half-crazed Chief Inspector as my anti-hero."

“Ouch! That hurt!”

"…having a torrid but ecstatic affair with a private eye," Cleo added. “But I don’t think I need a knight in shining armour to visit the witch. She would close up like a clam!”

“I could go with the story line but I have a problem with the mixed metaphor. Joking apart, be careful! This isn't a game of hunt the thimble."

"It’s a witch-hunt, Sweetheart.”

“That’s not a game either! Did you say Sweetheart again?”

“That was not a joke either. Your mail with Hatherton's photo has just arrived."

"Good hunting."

“I have to get Mrs Badger sorted out first.”

“Badger-hunting? Let me know when you leave. I’ll give you two hours before I come looking for you,” said Gary.

“I’ll leave here at about five,” said Cleo.

***

The interview with Mrs Badger would be conducted fast. The only evidence that Cleo had about the drugs was the traces of stretched cocaine in the girl’s blazer pocket and the official report confirming that finding.

Mrs Badger arrived looking extremely distressed and clutching a small tin.

"Look, Miss Hartley. I found these in Barbara's room, hidden among her gloves and scarves."

Mrs Badger tipped the contents of the heart-shaped metal tin onto Cleo's desk.

"What are they, Miss Hartley? Barbara doesn't take any pills."

Cleo took one look at them. They had a faint pink tinge.

"I should think they are ecstasy pills, Mrs Badger."

"Where could they have come from, Miss Hartley?"

"Maybe as a reward for carrying hard drugs."

"Good God. What's come over the child?"

"Not a child. A very young woman being seriously challenged by a criminal element. Commonplace these days, unfortunately, and school playgrounds are very inviting for dealers. Innocent kids with growing pains get caught by suddenly being loved and wanted before being abused one way or another."

"Do you mean that Barbara is unhappy at home?"

"Is she, Mrs Badger?"

"She’s unhappy about her weight. Eats like a bird."

"That's one of the symptoms."

"What shall I do?"

"For a start, we'll exchange these pills for aspirin. She might know the difference, but she won't think you were responsible and that gives us a few days to get between the dealers and the kids. I'll see the police get these tablets right away."

Cleo had taken care not to handle the pills. She dropped them into a plastic bag and labelled it. Then she took a strip of aspirin from her handbag and put the same number of pills into the tin.

"You'd better go home right away and put the tin back where you found it."

"Yes, you're right."

"It's too late to do anything today, but my colleague will observe what's going on at the school early next week and by then we'll also have police assistance and feedback on the pills."

"I hope we are in time, Miss Hartley."

"I can’t promise that, Mrs Badger! Don't let Barbara go to any parties this weekend! It's at those parties that ecstasy is often passed round and swallowed. The kids see it as a kind of group experience."

"It's terrifying. Barbara is only 14."

"Girls mature early, Mrs Badger, and some become welcome prey for young men with bags of charm and unlimited criminal energy."

“I don't know what my husband will say."

"Get him to go on an outing with the family. That would be the easiest way of preventing Barbara going to any parties. You don’t have to say why."

"You're so right, Miss Hartley. Thank you so much for your trouble."

“Oh, and Mrs Badger, you should know that the white powder in your daughter’s blazer pocket contained traces of cocaine, but that does not mean she took any. A blood test would reveal if she had and steps could be taken on that basis.”

“Thank you Miss Hartley. I’ll take your advice.”

When Mrs Badger had left, Cleo phoned Gary and said she would bring in some suspicious pills for analysis on the way to Mrs Temple’s house in about half an hour. The blazer case was taking on form, and would soon be out of her range. Could they have pizzas delivered from that nice Italian before she went to see Mrs Temple? She would discuss Colin's latest activities over the pizza.

“I’m intrigued,” said Gary. “And pizzas are a great idea.”

After clearing her desk, printing Hatherton’s photo and phoning Robert, Cleo locked up her office, got in her car and set off. She had wanted excitement in her life and now she had more than enough of it!

***

After Cleo had provided Gary with the alarming evidence that school kids were probably being rewarded with ecstasy in return for passing on hard drugs, he was more than ever convinced of the urgency of the situation at Barbara Badger's school. He would notify the drugs squad immediately and inform them about Colin's role as authorized legal assistant in the investigation. It was on the cards that they would stop treading water and make a concerted effort to catch the drug traffickers. The young kids involved would break their silence once they knew what was in store for them if they had criminal records for drug dealing. The problem was that the squad would probably not get any nearer to the bosses. It was a drop in the ocean to just scare some youngsters who were playing it cool with their pals. It did not get to the root of the problem.

***

The new facts about Hatherton were harder to deal with, given that Gary was unwilling to put Roger Stone on the line. He was looking in every direction except upwards. Cleo could not understand why Gary was so cautious. It was no longer a valid argument to say that he was protecting his job or being Roger’s friend.

They speculated that Mrs Temple's role in the affair might be a clue to Burton's untimely end. Was it possible that she had killed Burton in return for a cash reward? But what had Burton done? Gary would get onto her bank and find out if larger sums of money than usual were being paid into her account, or if she had received a lump sum round the time of Burton's murder.

"Contract killers do not wear labels, of course,” said Cleo. “The dust stirred up by Burton's death is amazing. It is just possible that Mrs Temple is his assassin – unlikely, but a clever ruse, if ever there was one. Who would ever think a middle-aged woman could be a contract killer?"

"So you think we'll have to start looking elsewhere for Burton's killer, don’t you."

"Unless it really was Mrs Temple. Don't protect anyone, Gary, even people you think are your benefactors!"

"I'm not into protection," Gary protested.

"Think again, Gary, and stop worrying about your job."

"It's not my job I'm worried about - well not directly."

Cleo did not ask him to explain his slip of the tongue, but it set her thinking. It was fortunately that the food arrived at that moment. Bickering would get them nowhere.

Fortified by her pizza and a very short tryst in Gary’s tiny storeroom, which fortunately had a door, Cleo made her way to Mrs Temple's house, found her at home, and was soon enjoying a cup of tea and a toasted teacake.

"It's nice of you to come, Miss Hartley, but I'm sure you don't just want to pass the time of day."

“No, I had to do some shopping, and thought I should come by for another cup of your delicious tea. We Americans can’t make tea like the British,” Cleo explained smilingly.

“I don’t suppose you set those forensic characters on me, did you, Miss Hartley?”

“Did they come here?”

“Am I telling you something you didn’t already know?”

“I know that they always contact everyone who knew someone who had met a violent death,” Cleo said. “That’s routine, so I’m not surprised. I’m sure you took it in your stride.”

Cleo wondered how much the woman knew about her.

“So what do you really want, Miss Hartley.”

 "You can see that I am having difficulty broaching the subject, Mrs Temple.”

“I can see everything,” said the woman.

“Then you also know that I run an investigation agency in Upper Grumpsfield,” said Cleo. “I worked with Shirley on a case, and she offered her help if ever I need it, so I’m quite cut up about her death.”

“Is that the real reason for coming here?”

“Not entirely. I told pathology that you had asked me to help with Shirley's funeral. I thought you might be glad, but I have a guilty conscience about offering my services without asking you first. You would be too distressed, I told them."

"Not distressed, but it would have been a nuisance," said Mrs Temple.

"I suppose you did love her in a way, didn't you, Mrs Temple?" Cleo said after a judicious pause and expecting a rebuff for such a nosey query. Mrs Temple's reaction surprised her.

"Towards the end we didn't get on at all. Shirley never knew the truth about her parentage, you see."

She was handing the information to Cleo on a plate. Cleo wondered why.

"You never really explained about her father. Is that what you are referring to, Mrs Temple?"

"Didn't I tell you?"

"No. Will you tell me now?"

"Why are you interested, Miss Hartley?"

"I'm curious," said Cleo, “and interested, for Shirley’s sake.”

"It was just a short affair."

"I understand."

"He was foreign. African but white."

Cleo wondered how much of what Mrs Temple said was being invented on the fly. She decided to press on regardless. Mrs Temple was capable of changing tack at any moment, or might close up like a clam and throw her out.

"Have you ever been on Safari, Mrs Temple?"

"Safari? Not that I remember."

The expression on May Temple’s face changed. Something was going on behind the façade.

"Well, just once," Mrs Temple corrected herself.

"Is that where you met Shirley's father, by any chance?"

"What made you say that, Miss Hartley?"

"I don't know."

Cleo was acting on a sudden hunch and had no clear idea what would happen next. Dorothy Price had dropped one tiny hint on those lines. Dorothy was always having hunches about this and that and now there was the DNA evidence possibly confirming that hunch.

"I'll tell you this much: He wasn't a tourist. He was doing business with some native tradesmen. There was a lot of mining in that area. Funny I should remember that."

"Gold mining?"

"Diamonds, Miss Hartley."

"I once met someone who dealt in diamonds. A South African. I think his name was Haverford," said Cleo, jumping on the bandwagon. She was having to rethink her strategy and improvise. Would the woman play into her hands?

"Hatherton," Mrs Temple corrected automatically. "We had an affair."

"Wow! Was Shirley the outcome?"

"Yes. He never knew."

"You got a tip-off, didn’t you?" said Cleo.

"An anonymous phone call, Miss Hartley.."

"Telling you to go to Burton's barn?"

"Yes….Hatherton got the same message… But wait a minute. How do you know all this?"

"I don’t know, Mrs Temple. I’m prompting you to tell me the story. I'm curious by nature. That’s why I took up detection. Is there any more tea?"

Mrs Temple reached for the teapot.

"It's empty," she said.

"Never mind. I should be going now, anyway."

“Are you meeting that cop again?” said Mrs Temple.

“Don’t tell anyone, please, Mrs Temple. I’m married, you see.”

That kind of confidence was exactly what Mrs Temple liked to hear.

“Hatherton was married,” she said.

“You poor lamb,” said Cleo, and embraced Mrs Temple spontaneously. For a moment she felt sorry for the woman. Mrs Temple straightened up and sniffed.

“That wasn’t necessary, Miss Hartley,” she said.

“I needed it,” said Cleo and for the moment it was the truth.

***

Cleo had learnt what she came to find out and an elegant exit was exactly what she needed. She hadn't asked Mrs Temple if she had known beforehand that Hatherton would be at the barn Had Shirley made that phone-call? Did May Temple go to S.A. on holiday?.

Cleo was satisfied with what she now knew for certain and eager for Gary's reaction. The only missing link was the question of who had ordered Mrs Temple and Hatherton to the barn. If it was Shirley, Mrs Temple was not going to say so, and Hatherton presumably did not know Shirley’s voice.

***

Hatherton was rapidly turning into a victim of circumstances. Was that meeting the first time Mrs Temple had had the chance to tell Hatherton that he had a daughter? Had she even told him? Had Burton overheard something and tried to blackmail one or both of them? Was that a possible murder motive? It linked Mrs Temple to Burton, but the idea that Mrs Temple had murdered Shirley was receding rapidly in Cleo's mind. There must be another solution. She would keep Mrs Temple on the back burner, while admitting to herself that the woman would have been capable of committing another murder, given her track record. But did she?

***

Back home, Cleo first rang Gary to tell him that the visit to Mrs Temple had been a success. She would send him a mail with the details.

“I wish I had been there,” he said.

“I love you, Gary, but I could not have used you at that interview,” said Cleo.

“I’d come to dinner, but your friend Robert might smell a rat.”

“I’d come to you, but I can’t right now. I’ll contact you later, shall I?”

“Please do.”

Cleo then kicked off her shoes and went into the kitchen to make some coffee. She was considering the psychology of what had happened and trying to get some coherence in what she knew. She would write a short report and send it to Gary, Colin and Dorothy and then ask Dorothy what she thought.

Later, she would sit at Robert’s chess board and reposition the little carved figures. That often helped her to think. Was Burton a pawn or a rook? Mrs Temple was definitely the queen, but an evil one. And Hatherton? Was he the bishop or the king?

***

 Something she had put on her own back burner came back to mind with a vengeance. Cleo did not want to believe that Jay had managed to get across the Atlantic despite Dorothy’s suggestion that he had broken into and slept at the Wellness Centre. There was no evidence apart from the guy’s socks. Could Gary get a DNA report on Jay from the USA and compare it with DNA on the socks? She scolded herself for over-dramatization. That coincidences only happen in novels was about to be contradicted.