Episode 4 - Magda

Dorothy phoned Cleo to tell her that she thought Gary was infatuated with her and Cleo should think carefully before getting up to any hanky-panky with him.

“You sound like my mother, Dorothy. That’s what she calls sex.”

“I wasn’t just thinking about sex, Cleo. He might capture your soul and where would that leave Robert?”

Cleo was astonished.

“Now you sound like Frederick Parsnip!”

“I’m sorry. I’m just a bit worried.”

“Don’t be. I have everything under control,” said Cleo, “especially my soul.”

Dorothy hastily changed the subject and warned Cleo off getting mixed up in a drugs case.

"I don’t think I will need to, Dorothy, but the woman needs reassurance and a plan of action. Gary is sending someone over to check the girl’s blazer so that we can call in the drugs squad if necessary."

"How old is the girl?"

"Fourteen."

"Where would she get a dangerous drug at that age?"

"Dealers - usually attractive young men - hang around school playgrounds and chat up the girls - a certain kind of girl needing reassurance and a feeling of being wanted or grownup. They are flattered and fall for a dealer's strategy."

"My goodness, there's still such a lot to learn about crime."

"I think the same thing went on with alcohol during American prohibition, Dorothy. As a detective you get to know the seamy side of human character, but not everyone is like that. We're not all crooks."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Dorothy. “What are you going to do about Gary?”

“Do you know, Dorothy, I do believe I love them both, but in different ways. I live with Robert and work with Gary, and that’s how it has to stay.”

“Has to?” repeated Dorothy.

“Has to. End of story, Dorothy.”

Dorothy had to content herself with that explanation, but Gary was dynamic and – yes – sexy. If she had been Cleo’s age, Dorothy would not have thought twice about her choice of suitor.

***

Back at Headquarters, Gary Hurley was not looking forward to questioning Magda Kelly. He would need a witness in case the woman accused him of improper conduct. He also thought it might be a good idea to get his part-time Nigel to be there. Nigel was not interested in that kind of woman, if any. Gary hoped that Magda Kelly would try to impress whoever was there with her best behaviour.

At the farm, Gary Hurley had already been astonished to find the Kellys relatively young. Looking now at Magda Kelly in the hard neon light of his office confirmed his theory that Kelly must have been naively infatuated and Magda hard-headed enough to enter into their marital arrangement. Mrs Kelly was about 40 and Patrick Kelly not much older. Dressed in finery that indicated that Magda Kelly had exchanged the home-drudge look in favour of garb more suitable for a red-light rendezvous, she made a grand entry into the office, flanked by Nigel and Greg.

Greg, who had brought Mr Kelly in, looked extremely uncomfortable holding on to Magda Kelly. Nigel looked nauseous.

“I'm not planning to say anything, so you can get rid that gay and the muscle guy, though those muscles could interest me." Magda said.

Nigel blushed. Greg laughed.

"The police officers are staying," said Gary, "Stop picking on them, or I'll find a name to call you by.”

"Balls," said Magda. "Give me a fag then."

"No smoking here, Mrs Kelly. See the smoke alarm?"

"Balls!"

“Same to you," said Nigel, who had gained a pretty good idea of Magda Kelly's true calling while they were waiting for Gary to call them in. Shirley Temple, Gary’s more than willing former assistant, had left a brief note on Gary's keyboard to say that Magda Kelly was a notorious prostitute. Gary grinned as he read that. Did Shirley think he would not have noticed?

Shirley was no longer his personal assistant for personal reasons, but she was a damn good policewoman and ideal for situations like those involving a woman like Magda Kelly. He phoned down for her to be present at the questioning and she came immediately. She had been hoping to be invited.

***

“Get your mistress out,” said Magda Kelly.

“Behave, Mrs Kelly. No insults, please.”

“She bloody searched me with hands like a les.”

“I expect you know all about lesbian hands, Mrs Kelly,” said Gary.

“Bog off,” she retorted.

Gary paused for a moment.

"So what did you do for a living before you became a farmer's wife, Mrs Kelly?" he eventually asked in an innocuous tone.

"What's it to you?"

"I ask the questions, Mrs Kelly, remember?"

"Well, I'm not answering any."

"If you want to go home today, you'll cooperate," Gary told her. "Or do you have something to hide?"

"Hide?"

"Were you friendly with Mr Burton?"

"Whatcha mean by that?"

"Did you sleep with Mr Burton?" Shirley asked. Gary would not have been that blunt, but Shirley did not think that delicacy was needed.

Magda Kelly swung round to glare at Shirley. Nigel and Greg exchanged glances.

“Which cop do you sleep with then?” Magda retorted.

“He’s not here,” replied Shirley.

Magda looked at her knowingly.

Gary busied himself reading his e-mails. Shirley might get the woman to talk. He should have let her do the interview from the start.

"I used to visit the barn," Magda volunteered in a low voice.

"What do you mean by 'used to', Mrs Kelly?"

"What I said."

"When was the last time?"

"A fortnight ago."

"Had Burton cooled off, Mrs Kelly?" Gary asked. “Or was he skint?”

"It's hardly likely that he would cool off," she retorted, thrusting her silicone breasts in Gary’s direction. "What do you think?"

Gary liked women, but this one made him squirm. Nigel stifled a smirk.

“I don’t think about bought bosoms at all, Mrs Kelly. I prefer them natural.”

Nigel and Greg exchanged glances.

“Unless the tits are coloured, Mister? That Hartley woman this morning, for instance. I’ll bet you’ve nestled there.”

“I’m not into discussing bosoms, Mrs Kelly, but the ones you are referring to are natural.”

He would like to have said ‘yes, she has skin like a peach and is by far the loveliest woman I’ve ever had sex with’, but he didn’t, of course.

Shirley was more shocked than Nigel and Greg.

“Do you want me to write all this in the report?” Nigel asked.

“This is pure theatre, Nigel. You don’t need to fill the report with stage dialogue,” said Gary.

“I’m glad about that,” said Nigel.

“Just the bare bones, Nigel,” Gary added. Cleo would have appreciated the pun.

***

After a few moments to recover his seriousness, Gary asked Magda if Kelly know about her affair with Burton.

"He caught us at it."

"Did he now?" Gary said.  “But it’s your job, isn’t it?”

"Was he jealous, Mrs Kelly?" Shirley wanted to know.

“What’s it to you, Miss?”

“He has his rights, Mrs Kelly,” said Shirley.

“So do I,” said Magda Kelly.

She turned back to Gary.

"You saw Kelly at the farm, Inspector," she said. "Do you think he was jealous?"

"To be honest, Mrs Kelly, I thought you were jealous. Weren’t you envious of Miss Hartley’s natural curves? I’ll bet that your husband would have liked to get his hands on them."

"Sod off. I want my tea."

The on-looking coppers were astonished that Gary would drop to Magda’s level, though they should have known that he could go to extreme lengths to provoke some kind of give-away reaction from a suspect.

Gary nodded to Nigel, who put the handcuffs back on Mrs Kelly's wrists. She was taken back to her cell, cursing and rubbing her thighs against Greg’s. Shirley went ahead to instruct the warders to keep an eye on her, but only an eye.

***

Within minutes Shirley was back.

"She's not very respectful, is she?"

"No. But a fun suspect, don’t you think?”

“That’s a matter of taste, Gary.”

“Whatever... You did a good job, Shirl."

"I thought she would react better to straight questioning. I'm not sure she's into innuendoes," said Shirley.

"I don’t think she’s into anything that isn’t laced with sex in some form," said Gary.

"If Kelly caught her with Burton in flagranti, it might be enough of a motive for him to murder someone he thought was a rival."

"But Mrs Kelly would not be involved, Shirl. Burton was probably a source of extra income for the Kellys."

“She didn't ask any questions when I told her Burton had been shot dead" said Shirley. “She certainly wasn’t upset.”

"That's a mark of cold-blooded self-preservation. Magda Kelly will have had plenty of dealings with men who paid her for sex. Now Burton is dead she'll find customers elsewhere. Women like that don't cry over spilt milk and women like that don’t fall in love with their clients."

"In other words she’s a bitch."

"That’s part of the character type, Shirl. Women either prostitute themselves or they don't. That's been my experience."

Shirley looked at him angrily. She had been two-timing him with his boss, Roger Stone, and neither had been love affairs. Gary had not even been interested in her body. Dorothy would have said that she and Magda were both on the same career ladder – betterment through sex.

"You don't…."

"Of course I didn't mean you," said Gary, who was still smarting from Shirley’s apparent preference for Roger before he had had time to forget Cleo. It was one thing taking it slowly with a woman and quite another to be cast off in favour of one’s boss.

"I'll remember that next time I get my leathers on," said Shirley.

Now it was Gary’s turn to look astonished. Surely Shirley wasn't a hobby domina.

There was a moment's embarrassment between them. Then Gary announced that Magda Kelly's past would have to be investigated. The marriage to Kelly was registered somewhere and her previous name would be on the certificate. By now the mugshot department should have compared her face with the others in their catalogue.

"I can hardly wait to see what they've got on her," said Shirley.

"Maybe she’s more than just a slut hiding under an assumed name on a farm. The farmhouse will be searched for evidence of prostitution, receiving, etcetera, and I’ll question Kelly about his role in her activities."

"What about your two village sleuths, Gary?"

Gary ignored the sneer.

"I won't involve them."

"Very wise."

"But I'll have to keep them informed."

***

A report on Burton's autopsy came through on the fax machine. A bit old-fashioned, but that way a printed copy of the report was immediately at hand. He would get the digital version later.

"They've retrieved the bullet from Burton's lung. Now we need pathology to compare it with one from any weapon in that household. Small calibre. Presumably the rifle was kept for self-defence."

"In other words, it could be a lady's gun." said Shirley.

"We can't rule that out."

Shirley said she would have an informal chat with Magda and ask about her past.

"We'd better check Mrs Kelly's outer garments for puff tracks. But not just the glamour stuff she's wearing now. If she did shoot Burton, she was probably dressed differently. We'll also take a close look at puff-tracks that could be Mr Kelly's."

There was no time to lose. He now regretted not keeping Kelly in an arrest cell overnight, but Cooper was tracking him. He made a good job of looking like a harmless guy out for a walk with his mongrel. He'd watch the farmhouse till a relief took over. By morning they'd have organized a rota. Gary was not sure what Kelly would do in Magda's absence, but he needed to find out. Then he phoned Cleo and reported on the interview with Mrs Kelly. That, he thought, had taken care of everything for the time being.

Cleo thought Gary should have kept Kelly locked up. On the other hand, if Kelly had decided to do away with Burton, surely he would have found a better method than shooting him in the back? He would have had plenty of opportunity to make a death look as if it were from natural causes. He would have disposed of the corpse in one of the deep ponds on his farm and maintained that he had no idea what had happened to Burton.

***

Cleo wondered why Gary always tried to track down his murderers without first asking why that particular victim had been chosen. She would present him with some aspects he would never have thought of in a month of Sundays, and those aspects would definitely include the Kellys.

***

By evening, the forensic team had come up with the first results of their investigation, which did not yet include results from the farmhouse, but were limited to what was left of the barn. A makeshift wooden dividing wall had been erected during conversion to separate Burton's living quarters from the far end of the barn, in which the Kellys buried all sorts of stuff under layers of straw.

"I can't imagine why anyone would want to live in a building with a section reserved for the rats," Chris said.

"I don't think it cost Burton much to live there and it was well off the beaten track if he wanted to go to ground. He might have been mortally afraid of someone and short of cash. He helped Kelly with the livestock as part of his rent."

"Only sheep," said Chris.

"There used to be cows there, Dorothy said,  but farmers were conned by the government," Gary told Chris. "There was a milk glut and farmers were told it would pay them not to keep cattle. I think they got a premium for each cow they slaughtered. What they didn't understand was that their income from the milk also ceased."

"So they looked for other sources of income, Gary, but that wouldn't include letting someone live on your property for almost nothing."

"Burton may have had other reasons, or Kelly had something on him and wanted him close by. Maybe they were both scared of the same thing, Chris."

"All speculation, Gary."

"We've got to start somewhere."

"One of the glasses you rescued had traces of lipstick on it. The DNA on the other glass was Burton's."

"Really! Now that is interesting. Magda Kelly could have been that mysterious guest, couldn’t she?"

"We'll check her cosmetics when we search the farmhouse," said Chris. "But we have her DNA swab. That will answer the question of whether she drank out of that glass."

"The search warrant for the farmhouse will be available in the morning, with any luck," said Gary. “We’ll have to have it since Kelly might be in. It’s a pity there was no time for a search while he was in custody.”

“We do have other cases,” said Chris, piqued at being criticized. “That's it for today. I'll let you have results as they come in."

"Thanks."

***

Gary phoned Cleo again. He had really wanted to keep the information to himself, but painfully aware that a copper only has a limited amount of freedom to follow instincts, he was obliged to tap into Cleo's on the question of who else apart from Magda could have left lipstick on that glass. Up to now it was the only clue they had to any social contact Burton could have had shortly before his death.

"I thought you wanted to go it alone, Gary."

"I can't, and I can't involve Shirley, either. The police should keep a low profile for the time being."

"You could get my mother onto it. She's had experience in tracking people down."

That made Gary wince.

“I hope that was a joke,” he said.

The episode with Cleo's mother, Gloria, had been difficult and its ultimate success was mainly due to her persistence. Gloria was a formidable lady and dangerously impulsive. She had caused havoc when she tried to investigate a spy ring, though Gary had to admit that she had shown great bravery and presence of mind.

"I thought she was back in Chicago."

"She is, but she's longing for an excuse to come back to Upper Grumpsfield."

"Leave her out of this, Cleo."

"I was joking again, Gary."

"Were you? For a minute…."

"I like having Gloria back in Chicago, Gary. Heaven only knows what she would do if she were given access to my office."

"When we get the DNA from the lipstick, we'll check our records for any matches. At least it won't be your mother's."

"Or mine, for that matter. Are you hoping this anonymous lipstick wearer is a crook, Gary? Isn't that rather a long shot?"

“I survive on long shots,” said Gary.

"The only other idea I have on that is the Norton woman. That’s the manager of the new wellness centre. She might be the kind to pick up a guy like Burton. Maybe she visited him the night before he met his death."

“That’s a brilliant idea, Cleo.”

Cleo decided that definitely phoned to pick her brains.

"Do the Norton Brothers have lots of other relatives?" she asked.

"No. fortunately they seem to have lost all the others one way or another."

"So you want me to track down the wellness lady and see what she does in her spare time, do you?"

"That's about it. You might even get her to tell you about her relationship with Burton."

"Assuming she knew him. But she won't tell me anything, Gary. I'm a snoop and her brothers got the brunt of my snooping not so long ago."

"Upper Grumpsfield is a small place. It's on the cards that she had dealings of some kind with Burton."

"And you fondly think she's going to tell me all about it, Gary?"

"She might even want to talk," said Gary.

"Not if she shot him," retorted Cleo.

Did Gary really think she would go about her job like that?

"Well, you know what I mean."

"I can't decide if we're having a serious conversation, Gary."

"We are. Will you do it? Yes or no?"

"It sounds more like something for Dorothy to handle. She wouldn't arouse suspicion."

"It's up to you how you deal with it, Cleo."

Gary was sorry he had asked. He had sworn not to involve the Hartley Agency in this case and here he was, crying for help at the first hitch.

"The Norton guys are behind bars, Gary. They can't have killed Burton."

"But their little sister isn't. She could have. Could you go and exercise at that centre and listen in a bit, Cleo?”

"I'm too lazy for energetic activity."

"Any chance of giving it a try?"

"At a pinch I could do a bit of gentle cycling. I'm not sure how I'll get Dorothy in, though. She probably thinks it's too late to bother."

"I don't see why. She's young for her age."

"Forget it, Gary. Dorothy is not going to start all that stuff at her time of life."

"Well, be careful, whatever you decide. The Nortons are all gangsters and Pam Norton is probably their link with the honest world. She'll be carrying on with whatever lucrative trade the gangsters were involved in."

"But you have no evidence."

"None at all at the moment."

"I'd better take Delilah along as well. She's really good at getting personal contacts going. Everyone knows her, but not in guise of a fitness addict."

"Let me know how you get on."

“If we survive, Gary,” said Cleo, hoping he would worry about putting them up to this mission.

***

It had dawned on Cleo during the phone call with Gary that Delilah might already have something on Pamela Norton, but she kept that idea to herself. After all, Delilah ran the village pub, now revamped and calling itself a bistro. If anyone knew what went on it would be Delilah.

“Can we bring our date forward, Cleo?”

“Do you mean now?”

“Have you had dinner?”

“No. Robert came in and went out again. He’s at church choir practice. They go to the pub after that. He won’t miss me.”

“Romano’s then?

“Give me half an hour.”

Romano was thrilled.

“I’m glad to see you happy, old friend,” he told Gary. “Your woman is rather a beautiful donna, isn’t she?”

“Let’s go up now,” said Cleo. “I’m not really hungry.”

“Neither am I – for food,” said Gary.

The clandestine nature of their relationship did nothing to dampen their spirits and the fact that they had only been apart for an hour or two did not lessen the intensity of their tryst.

“We could do this every day if you could make up your mind to, Cleo,” said Gary.

“I will, one day,” said Cleo, pulling off her clothes.

“Shower?” said Gary, stepping under the hot spray.

“I’ve never really been in love before,” said Cleo. “It took me 38 years to find out what it’s like.”

“It’s like we feel now, Cleo,” said Gary.

“You are a romantic at heart, Gary. I never would have thought that.”

“You bring out the best in me,” he said.

“Dorothy said she was afraid for my soul,” said Cleo.

“She’s been reading Faust, or maybe she went to the opera and saw Don Giovanni,” said Gary. “What about your soul?”

“She said I could lose it.”

“And did you?”

“No. It’s getting bigger. Love stretches. I suppose that’s what happens when you have kids,” said Cleo.

“It does. Do you want kids?”

“I lost one.”

“Irreplaceable, my love, but you would mourn less if you had one to stretch your soul even more.”

“I’d like that,” Cleo said.

Two hours later there was a knock on the apartment door. Gary wrapped a counterpane around him and went to see who it was.

“I’ve brought you some wine.”

“We’ll need the room all night, Romano.”

“Si, si. I guessed that. Here’s a key to the side door, so you can leave any time. We close the restaurant at midnight.”

“I didn’t say I could stay the night, Gary.” said Cleo.

“But you will, won’t you.”

“Yes.”

“What about Robert?”

“He’ll be too flaked out to care. I’ll get home before he gets up.”

“It’s our first night together, Cleo.”

“I’m not thinking of wasting it on sleep, either.”

“Neither am I.“