Episode 5 - Speculation

Wed cont., breakfast time

Cleo was nervous about phoning Dorothy, despite not believing that she would have gone to the villa at dead of night. Dorothy was justifiably irate at being dragged out of a deep sleep hours before she liked to get up.

“Do you know what time it is, Cleo?”

“Sorry. Lovely to hear your voice,” said Cleo. “If you only knew…”

“I can’t think of anything I need to know at this hour,” Dorothy snapped.

Cleo thought Dorothy was being unnecessarily bad-tempered.

“You need to know that a slim female corpse was discovered in the office of our new villa after it had been almost burnt to the ground.”

“How terrible! I’m so sorry,” said Dorothy, humbled. “And you thought it could be me?”

“Yes, Dorothy.”

“Did I understand you correctly? Did you say that the villa has been burnt down?”

“Yes. The inferno must have started in my office,” said Cleo. “The dead person tried to wrap herself in the drapes, but we assume that poison gases overcame her; or she had been knocked half unconscious by someone who then left her to her fate. She was not wrapped in a drape. She was clutching at the bottom edge.”

“I don’t know what to say, Cleo.”

“I think you should go to the villa and take a look at the corpse. You may recognize something about her.”

“I’ll dress and go now,” said Dorothy. “Can you tell Gary I’m on my way? I assume he’s there but you have to be home with the children.”

“Yes. Do that, Dorothy. You might be able to help.”

“Should I get Jane to go with me?”

“No. I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Cleo. “I don’t think Gary could deal with Jane’s moaning and wailing.”

“I’ll get going now,” said Dorothy.

“Keep me up to date, please.”

“Of course.”

***

Cleo phoned Gary to tell him that Dorothy was on her way. He would wait for her and then bring her back to the cottage. He was sure she would want to talk it over.

***

It did not take Dorothy long to march to the villa, inspect the scene and declare that she was sure it was Hilda. In the meanwhile the paramedics had arrived in their ambulance. Photographs had been made for police records. The corpse was removed and would be delivered to the forensic lab at HQ. It was essential to find out exactly what had caused her death. Had she been knocked out or otherwise rendered helpless? Chris would stay to collect as much evidence as possible. Dorothy phoned Cleo to say that Gary was going to drive them home.

“Hilda had no escape route if the door into the hall was locked,” said Dorothy, who had inspected the room carefully.

“Someone locked her in,” said Gary.

“I can only think of that fat slob, Bryn Thomas,” said Dorothy. “Mark my words; that person is guilty.”

“You’re probably right. I think it’s what Cleo will say, too.”

 “You should have seen how Hilda cowered before him. He had her walking in front, as if he were driving her on.”

“Maybe he was.”

***

By the time Gary and Dorothy arrived at the cottage it was time to get breakfast going. PeggySue had already come looking for her Daddy and gone back to sleep on his side of the big bed. Tommy and Teddy were awake and clambering for attention. Max and Mathilda had been attended to and were quite happy cooing away in the playpen to the sounds of Mozart issuing from the DVD player.

Cleo was glad to see Dorothy, who immediately set about settling Tommy and Teddy in their high chairs to gnaw at rusks while their drinks were being made.

“So Hilda’s death leaves Bryn Thomas in the house he wants for himself,” said Cleo. “How convenient.”

“We have enough circumstantial evidence to haul him in,” said Gary. “And we will. I’ll put Mia Curlew onto it. She can get two brawny traffic cops to pick him up. I’ll phone her now.”

Gary went into the bedroom to do just that, after which he piggy-backed a delighted PeggySue into the dining room and announced that he had just found a little princess asleep in his bed.”

All the noise had of course wakened Charlie. She was terribly upset when Gary told her the reason for all the super-early activity. Comforting her was probably what he needed to get the situation into perspective. You cannot undo a fire.

“What about Christmas,” she moaned. “We were going to have such a nice time.”

Gary took a pragmatic stand. They would make a trip to Monkton woods and find a small conifer to set up inside the cottage. They could have a party decorating it and make lots of Christmas fun without moving. They’d done it last year.

The idea about the tree was a stab in the dark. A year ago free-wheeling guys had set up a stall for trees in the woods. Gary had wondered if he should arrest them for loitering and pilfering, since the trees were not theirs to sell, but other more serious crimes had kept him occupied, fortunately for the flying traders.

Charlie was appeased, so they sealed their plan with a hug.

 ***

Dorothy had been aghast at the devastation at the villa.

“You don’t deserve it,” she said. “What a wicked thing to do!”

“Hilda got the worst of it,” said Cleo.

“She was wearing a rather gaudy little ring she liked. I don’t suppose her killer thought it was worth stealing.”

“Do you think Bryn Thomas started the fire, Dorothy?” said Cleo. “You did not think much of him, did you?”

“Jane was impressed by him because he wanted the show cancelled, even though she knew that would upset me, although I must say that Jane has not gone out of her way to be friendly in recent week – since her friendship with Hilda started, when I think about it. I think Jane was glad to have a man –even an unpleasant one - around now and then. I’ll think twice about continuing any kind of friendship with her.”

“I can see your point, but she would not actually want Bryn Thomas in her life, would she?”

“And have him spend that nice pension she gets? I think she saw him take advantage of Hilda and she enjoyed Hilda’s friendship for reasons best known to herself. Bryn Thomas was thrown in, so to speak. He lived at Hilda’s, so he was looked after and Jane could enjoy the fall-out.”

“And look where that got her,” said Gary. “You don’t think much of him. Do you think he could be an arsonist?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him, though he doesn’t look like one.”

Killers don’t have to look like killers, either,” Cleo remarked.

“That’s what I think,” said Gary. “I’m going to question him tomorrow.”

“Is he still around? I thought Jane told me he was going back to Wales as soon as he had completed his mission.”

“What mission?” Cleo asked.

“He told her that he would put a stop to the show since it would be lousy anyway.”

“That’s rich. Without him, I suppose. Hilda told me that he kept women’s clothes, a wig and makeup in a sports bag he usually took everywhere, but forgot it once,” said Cleo. “Hilda did what any sleuth would do and looked through his things.”

“When did she tell you that?” said Dorothy.

“I met her at Crumbs bakery yesterday at breakfast time. She wanted to tell me something in person and that’s what it was. I knew that from what Nigel told me that Mr Thomas had auditioned for the show and been turned down.”

“Do you think Hilda could have known that?”

“She didn’t tell me. I wondered about that. I’d like to know what made her go to the villa,” said Cleo.

“I expect she went there with Mr Thomas, but I can’t think why,” said Dorothy. “Unless he coerced her.”

“It does make it more likely that he had planned for something to happen there,” said Cleo. “He would not want anyone to know, hence using the darkness to cover his tracks”

“Why did he need Hilda?”

“Maybe to leave her to take the blame, Dorothy. Just remember what that anonymous letter said. Hilda knew about the villa belonging to us and will have told Thomas, so they mgiuth even have planned the arson together.”

“OK. Hilda told Mr Thomas about the villa’s new owner,” said Dorothy. “What if that provoked him to turn an idea that had only been an idle threat in the letter into a full-blown hate mission? His motive would be revenge on being turned down at the audition by getting the travesty show cancelled. His would vent his anger on me by hurting my friends. Hilda was only an accomplice, but she would be left to carry the can.”

“Meaning she was meant to be a tool rather than a victim,” said Cleo.

“But Hilda would not know about that travesty show audition, would she? Setting fire to your cottage or mine would have been the logical procedure,” said Dorothy.

“Burning down a cottage would not be as dramatic as setting fire to a villa,” said Cleo. “His profile neurosis went much further than dressing up for a travesty show and then being turned down; his vanity would also have to be appeased.”

“So hauling him in might actually flatter him,” said Gary.

“Failing his debut with Lucky 13, it would be the next best thing.”

“All this chat is pie-in-the-sky, though, isn’t it?” said Gary.

“It’s brain-storming, like in the days before you thought I had retired.”

“Ouch!”

“Exactly!”

“ So why didn’t Hilda throw him out?” said Gary.

“Because Hilda had stupidly written Mr Bone, to whom she was not married and whose name was actually Thomas, into the deeds of her house making him part-owner” said Cleo.

“How stupid of her,” Dorothy said.

“I don’t suppose Bryn Thomas knew about the house until he searched through Hilda’s papers,” said Gary. “He must have done that and realised that he had struck gold.”

“How did he find the Bones in the first place?” said Gary.

“It’s surprising what drives people to do things,” said Dorothy.

“To cut a long story short, once Thomas discovered that he was part-owner of the house, Hilda was in the way,” said Cleo.

“I’ll look forward to Mr Thomas confirming all that,“ said Gary. “At the moment it’s what Hilda told Cleo. Our speculation is based on what she said and what we think Mr Thomas would do to protect his interests.”

“Do you think Mr Thomas Senior was hiding from his family?” said Dorothy.

“That would not surprise me,” said Cleo. “He deserted his wife for reasons best known to himself and found a nice pad at Hilda’s; using an assumed name made it impossible to trace him.”

“He doesn’t sound much nicer than his son,” said Gary.

“Hilda said it was love. They did not marry because he was already married, and I’m not even sure if he knew he had a son.”

“So how did the son actually find him?”

“Hilda was a snob. She had an announcement published in the Times under Births, Deaths and Marriages, and the son recognized the name and a photo Hilda posted.”

“No need for the internet, then- How stupid was that of Hilda?” said Dorothy. “When I saw Bryn Thomas, him I did not think he was the type to read The Times.”

“It takes all sorts,” said Gary, “and it’s a tabloid. The same format as the trash dailies.”

“We could talk to his mother,” said Dorothy. “Perhaps she was glad not to be involved in her profligate husband’s life.”

“In other words, she was glad to see the back of him even if he did not support her.”

“We don’t know if he did, but it’s a small price to pay if you dislike someone enough to write them off,” said Dorothy.

“I definitely think you should talk to Mrs Thomas. I’ll find out where she lives.”

“I’ll do that, Gary. Thanks for asking me.”

“My pleasure.”

If Dorothy had been a cat, she would have purred.

***

Breakfast , when they finally got round to it, was a lively affair. Toni and Grit arrived from next door to take charge of the infants. Gary broke the news of the fire at the villa and the two newcomers were of course horrified. Grit phoned Roger immediately with the news. He abandoned his quiet breakfast and came over to commiserate.

“What are you going to do?” he asked. “You can’t move there now.”

“We can’t move there at all, Roger. The place is half-gutted and a corpse was found in Cleo’s office, trapped because the door was locked and the shutters nailed down from the outside,” said Gary.

“Do you know who the corpse was?”

“A woman named Hilda Bone. But it’s a long story and I must get going to question the guy we think caused the disaster. The Ladies will tell you the whole story.”

“I hope Chris will decide on the cause of the woman’s death very fast. We need to know just how far the probable killer went and why.”

“Far enough, if the woman was locked in a room and could not escape,” said Roger.  “I’ll just get my coat and go with you. Greg is away all this week, isn’t he?”

“Is that OK with you, Mother? Cleo?” said Gary.

“We have everything under control here, Sweetheart,” said Cleo. “What about telling Jane?”

“Not yet.”

“But she should know,” said Dorothy.

“Call on her then, Dorothy. I don’t think she had any idea what an evil person Mr Thomas is and how awful the situation was for Hilda. She may have something to say about that,” said Gary. “And who knows? The guy might want to bunk down there until grass has grown over the incident.”

“But he’s at HQ now, isn’t he?” said Cleo.

“We might have to release him,” said Gary. “Jane might know something that could be dangerous for him. We don’t know how Bryn Thomas’s mind ticks. He has already intimidated Hilda Bone and might have caused her death.”

“But I can’t pick Jane’s brains immediately after telling her that her new friend is dead, Gary.”

“You can and you will, Dorothy. I’m counting on you,” said Gary.

“Well, if it’s like that….”

“Flattery will get you everywhere”, Gary said to Roger as they got into the family van.

“You’re assuming that she did not see through it,” said Roger.

“She probably did, Roger. Dorothy is no fool, but she wanted to have my blessing before taking Jane in hand. To be honest, I’m willing bet that she would have done that anyway, even if she did not have my approval, but she feels better if she has it.”

“Village crime at its most entangled,” said Roger, “where even the motives of the innocent are up for scrutiny.”

“Do we know Jane is innocent? She must have approved of that nasty anonymous letter to Dorothy. It would not surprise me if she had written it, instructed by Thomas, but not under protest. He will have made it a lovely game. It’s the old phenomenon of even the most independent of women liking to be taken seriously by a man.”

“I’m quite looking forward to meeting your Mr Thomas,” said Roger.

“So am I,” said Gary.

“So you don’t know him either?”

“Nigel gave me a highly visual description of the guy failing his travesty show audition.”

“Oh dear. He’s one of them, is he?”

“I wouldn’t know about that, but he’s certainly a vain bastard. Nigel tells me that the troupe is a mixed bunch as far as sexual preferences go.”

“Have you told Joe about the villa?”

“Not yet,” said Gary. “I should, shouldn’t I, before Bernie Browne can headline it in his Thursday Gazette.”

“Isn’t his name Bertie?”

“He answers to both, Roger. Bertrand Bernhard Browne. Probably named after two affluent uncles. But he prefers to be called Mr Browne. Joe can tell you about being called to order on that. Bernie is a bit of what they used to call a popinjay. Have you seen Joe’s cartoons of him?”

“Yes; very amusing. Joe is a clever guy. He made a success of Cop’s Corner after no one thought anyone could follow on the previous editor.”

“Not least thanks to his cartoons. Cops like to laugh now and again, even at themselves.”

Gary parked the car on its allocated spot and the two men went into HQ via the rear entrance.

“Joe first,” said Gary. They took the lift to Joe’s office on the third floor, where Gary told Joe the facts of the case as far as it had progressed with the proviso that he should not name a suspect for the moment.

“Is there one?”

“We’re about to find out,” said Roger.

“Let me know how you get on,” said Joe. “I’d like to get in before BeeBee’s Gazette does.”

“I think Browne was a plumber in his last life,” said Gary. “He can always smell a leak. He’s probably on the phone to Cleo now.”

“Perhaps he was a market gardener,” said Roger and was rewarded with puzzled looks. “You know: the other leeks.”

Humour from Roger was a rare and rarified occurrence.