Episode 26 - The arrest

By the time Gary had left Dorothy's cottage early on Monday morning to go to HQ, he was full of good intentions. He would call his mother that very day. He hadn't visited her for months, resented her pep talks and shrugged off her concern for him. Now he was acutely aware that he hadn't ever really listened to her. He felt almost virtuous. He would hurry along his divorce, visit his daughter soon, accept that she was there for her education, and get his own life back on an even keel. With murder and criminals all around him, that was the least he could do.

Gary spent only a short time in his office. He hadn't been due back for a few days, so the new case files on his desk had been lovingly numbered according to delivery by Nigel. There was nothing new on the Burton case. Gary told Nigel not to put callers through to his mobile. Nigel watched Gary leave before nipping to the canteen for a cup of tea and a look at the daily newspapers. Monday mornings were always tedious.

Before driving to Mrs Temple's house, Gary instructed a patrol car to come to her address, but park out of sight. A very enthusiastic patrol cop named Felix, who was earnestly interested in usurping Nigel and becoming assistant to Gary, since that was a rung on the career ladder, was to go into the house with Gary. His colleague was to watch the house.

Gary would have preferred to go it alone, but since he wanted to make an arrest, he would need assistance. The days of botching things up because he was too proud to ask for support were over. Cleo would approve. Gary was curious to see how Felix would react to Mrs Temple. His colleague looked tougher and might have been more suited to the job, but Felix was keen. The only problem was that he seemed a bit fragile. Cleo would have described him as nice, but a bit insubstantial.

Mrs Temple was unimpressed by the new, energy-laden Gary Hurley. Felix’s colleague went round the back of the house to make sure the woman did not do a spontaneous bunk.

"Can we talk for a moment, Mrs Temple?" Gary asked in a friendly voice he hoped would not arouse suspicion.

“You’re that homicide chief, aren’t you?” said Mrs Temple.

“That’s correct.”

"What do you want then?"

"This and that, Mrs Temple, but not on the doorstep, if you don't mind."

"Oh very well, come in. But not for long. I've got better things to do than talk to the cops…..and wipe your feet!"

May Temple led the way into her front room, Gary was followed by Felix.

"Who's that?" Mrs Temple called over her shoulder.

"Constable Felix Hampton-Court."

"Very posh. But I thought only cats were called Felix."

"Maybe his parents would have preferred a cat, Mrs Temple."

That was the kind of banter the woman appreciated. She gave a little snort.

"Bring him in. I want him where I can see him. Some cops are thieves."

Gary refrained from arguing that point. He was glad to have Felix as a witness, but said nothing about that, either. Mrs Temple wasn't quite as cunning as she thought she was, he mused. Was she as mad as a hatter? Cleo thought so.

Gary disliked mad murderers. They got away with their crimes though it was still possible that they were deliberate. Once the diagnosis of madness had been confirmed, everything they did was classed as mad. A stupid idea. When you had dealt with a few felons you realised that madness is relative and evil an independent feature.

"You can sit there," said Mrs Temple, pointing to an armchair with a grubby antimacassar draped over the back. "The cat can stand."

It was all Felix could do not to chortle. Gary gave him a warning glare.

"So what's it all about, Mr?" Mrs Temple asked in an entirely different tone from any she'd used before.

Gary thought she might be schizophrenic.

"Detective Inspector Hurley, Mrs Temple. What happened to your husband? Where is he?"

Felix moved to where the woman could not see him and started jotting things down in a little notebook.

"What's that to you?" she countered.

"They've found his body in the Scottish Highlands."

"Have they?" Felix asked out of turn.

Gary looked at him fiercely.

Mrs Temple seemed unmoved by the news, but she was curious.

"If it was him, how did he get there, Mr.?"

"I'm sure you can tell us that, Mrs Temple."

"Well I can't."

"Rumour has it that you pushed him off a cliff."

Gary and the woman stood up simultaneously. Felix moved to between the woman and the door. It was a nasty moment.

"It was an accident, wasn't it, Mrs Temple?"

Silence. Gary wondered what would happen next. Felix dropped his pencil and his jaw.

Instead of making a break for it, the woman flopped down on her sofa and laughed until the tears ran down her face. Gary sat down next to her.

"Go on, Mrs Temple. Tell me about it and you'll feel better."

"That dark-skinned sleuth woman said that. Are you in this together?"

"What dark-skinned woman? I don't know any."

“Do you sleep with her?”

“Yes, sometimes,” Gary said because he thought it would be good for the interview, not as a confessional. He winked at Felix, who thought Gary was making it up.

“You should more often, then.”

“She doesn’t want to.”

“A nice guy like you? Now if it was Felix the cat I’d understand. He wouldn’t know how, would you, Felix darling?

Felix darling looked extremely embarrassed.

“Leave the guy alone,” said Gary.

"I told her what I'd done," Mrs Temple continued.

“Told who?”

“That sleuth woman. I’d have been surprised if you hadn’t wrapped yourself round her body, Mr Cop,” she added.

Felix stood wide-eyed wondering what Gary would say next. He had met Cleo Hartley. She was nice. If he had any desire for a woman, it would be someone like Cleo Hartley.

“Rather a lewd remark for a smart call-girl, Mrs Temple.”

“Who told you that?”

“I can see with both eyes closed that you are an expert, Mrs Temple.”

Felix decided it was all a dream. He could not possibly make a note of that dialogue, but he realized that Gary was using a tactical approach.

“Can you?” Mrs Temple was as flattered as she was meant to be.

"You are very shrewd, Mrs Temple, but I’m not here to talk about me.”

“You look as if you could use some sound advice. “I could show you a few tricks if the cat closes his eyes.”

Gary did not want to pursue that line for obvious reasons.

“Never mind that now,” he said. “Did you say that you had told Miss Hartley about Mr Temple? So what happened to Mr Temple’s girlfriend? Did she go with him to Scotland?”

"Oh her. A slip of a girl. Apprentice prostitute. No match for me."

"Ended up as landfill, did she?"

"That's where she belonged. With the rubbish."

"Shall we pop to the station and identify Mr Temple then?

"It's ages years ago since he went missing. He'll be a skeleton by now. I can't identify a skeleton."

"I can assure you he's not a skeleton. He was preserved in an icy crevice."

"You're kidding."

Mrs Temple was so fascinated by this idea that she didn't immediately register that Felix had gently slipped handcuffs round her wrists. Gary was not sure how they would deal with the identification process. There really was a frozen corpse. Would they have kept it frozen? The woman had all but confessed. That's all that really mattered. And if it wasn't Mr Temple, whoever it was had served a useful purpose.

May Temple stood up suddenly. That was when she realised she was handcuffed.

"I arrest you for the murder of your husband, George Albert Temple," Gary said. "Anything you say may be used in evidence against you."

"I'm not saying anything. You won't get away with this, damn you."

"That's not for me to decide," replied Gary. "Let's go."

"I can't get a coat over these damn bracelets," she said, hoping they would take them off, thus giving her a chance to escape.

"You don't need a coat. It's warm in the police cells," said Felix.

"Nobody spoke to you, Mr Cat. Hold your tongue!"

“Hold your tongue, Mrs Temple,” said Gary.

“I’d like to hold something else,” said Mrs Temple in a last ditch attempt at some kind of seduction she seemed to think was possible. “Bring my handbag, Mr Cat. I expect you like carrying a handbag.”

“Only on Saturdays, Mrs Temple,” said Felix, and Gary smiled approvingly. “I do a strip now and again, but I’m usually only in the line-dancing scenes.”

May Temple licked her lips.

Gary and Felix marched the woman down the drive. On leaving the house, Mrs Temple had started curing and shouting, making a spectacle of herself and drawing an audience. Gary and Felix were glad to push her onto the back seat of the patrol car to a round of applause.

"Nasty old bitch!" someone called.

I knew they'd get her in the end," someone else said.

"Pity it wasn't in time to save Shirley," sneered a third onlooker.

"Shut up and go home," Gary told them.

"Don't try to get out," Felix told Mrs Temple. "The door won't open from the inside."

Mrs Temple spat at him.

Felix was disgusted.

"I'll sit with her, Felix,” said Gary, feeling protective towards him. Whatever his gender, he did not need to be confronted by this bitch of a woman. “Take my keys and park my car at HQ. See you in my office after lunch, OK?"  

Felix’s colleague would drive the patrol car. He had waited outside for the woman to be arrested.

“Greg and Sam should be here any minute,” said the second patrol cop.

“Good. They can lock up here,” said Gary, and passed on those instructions as the second patrol car rolled up. “On second thoughts, Sam, can you sit with Mrs Temple. She seems to have erotic designs on me.”

Felix drove off in Gary's car, thankful that the incident was over for him, though he might have to confront the woman later in Gary's office.

Sam forced a safety belt round Mrs Temple's chest and clipped it on, then squeezed himself onto the back seat next to her. She immediately put her left hand on his knee.

"Don't waste your energy," Sam advised. "There's no way out of here."

“I quite fancy you,” said Mrs Temple. Was she hoping he’d help her to escape? The woman started to move her had up Sam’s leg.

“Nice muscles,” she said.

“I’ll sit in the front after all,” Sam said, getting out. “Don’t go away, will you, gorgeous?”

***

"Just make sure the house is securely locked, Sam,” Gary called. Then he went to the patrol car and opened the rear door.

“You just sit still, Mrs Temple. You're wasting your energy. None of us is interested in an old hooker."

“Just a young one?” she jeered, “or a mulattin?”

"Hold your tongue, Mrs Temple!”

“Open these bracelets and I’ll hold your what’sit,” she said. “You’d like that. I’m still in practice.”

“You are a nasty specimen of humanity, Mrs Temple,” said Gary, glad that Cleo had not witnessed this woman’s obscenity. “I’m glad the world will be protected from you for the rest of your worthless life.”