Wednesday December 16, the small hours
“Is that the Hurley residence?” a brusque voice called.
Until 3 a.m. the cottage was at peace. Everyone was asleep,
as befits the middle of the night.
What does not fit in with nocturnal peace and quiet is the
loud ring of the house phone, situated strategically on Cleo’s side of the bed.
While Gary buried his head in his pillow and told Cleo to ignore the ring, Cleo
put her night light on, sat up in bed and answered it.
“I suppose you could call it that,” said Cleo. “It’s only a
cottage, but we are moving into a residence at the weekend.”
“And that’s why I’m phoning, Mrs…”
“Hurley.”
“You own the villa at 22 Thumpton Close, I believe.”
“Sure. Who are you?”
“Didn’t I say? It’s Bird from the fire service, Mrs Hurley.”
Cleo could feel her heart drop a mile.
“Are you still there? There’s been a fire, Mrs Hurley.”
Cleo said nothing.
“Are you listening, Mrs Hurley? Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes Mr Bird. Where was the fire exactly?” Cleo asked,
knowing full well what Mr Bird would say. Why else would he phone at this time
of the night?
”It’s the villa. We got there as fast as we could, but we
were too late to save half of it.”
Cleo had switched on the speaker, so Gary had been able to
hear the last part of dialogue.
“We think it was arson, Mrs Hurley. We sent firefighters in
with breathing apparatus. We think the fire started in the library and spread
upwards and sideways from there. The door was locked and the outside shutters
nailed together.”
“That would be my office, Mr Bird. I had moved all my
papers, books and some of my electronic equipment there ahead of our move at
the weekend, so the room was locked for security reasons and I have the key on
my keyring. But I did not nail the shutters. Dr Marble liked it dark in his
study. He kept the shutters closed and had red velvet drapes drawn.”
Gary took the handset from Cleo and mumbled “Hurley here;
I’ll be there in a jiffy” into it.
“Is that you, Mr Hurley?”
“Yes, Mr Bird.”
“You should have told him you are my toy-boy,” Cleo whispered, trying to lighten
the situation.
“There’s worse to come, Mr Hurley.”
“Go on.”
“We broke open the door of that room when the flames had
been extinguished and we found a dead body - female.”
“I’ll call forensics in,” said Gary to Mr Bird.
“Shouldn’t I call the police?”
“I am the police,” said Gary, and Mr Bird apologized for not
knowing.
“That’s all right, Mr Bird. You’re new to the job, aren’t
you?”
“Yes Sir. Fire Chief now, Sir.”
“Is the fire under control, Mr Bird?”
“Smoking a bit, Sir, but we are watching it.”
“OK. As I said, I’ll be over directly.”
”Thank you, Sir.”
“Could you save anything, Mr Bird?”
“Not much, Sir. One side of the villa is definitely not
habitable and I’m not sure if the structure can be saved. I’m very sorry.”
“Not as sorry as I am, Mr Bird. Goodbye for now.”
Gary passed the handset back to Cleo and she replaced it on
its stand. She could not think of anything to say.
Gary sat on the edge of the bed and covered his face with
his hands. He was sobbing. Cleo understood that he was even harder hit the she
was. His dream was shattered.
“Come on Sweetheart,”
she said, putting her arms round him. “We weren’t living there. Imagine what it
would have been like if we had all been asleep upstairs?
“I hope the corpse isn’t Dorothy.”
“Why would she go to the villa at dead of night, Sweetheart?”
“She probably wouldn’t, but it is possible, isn’t it?”
Gary managed to get control of his distress and phoned Chris
Winter at home to tell him what had happened.
“I’ll meet you at the villa, Gary,” Chris said. “I know it
means a lot to you, but at least you weren’t living there.”
“No, fortunately not,” said Gary. “But somebody was trapped
in Cleo’s office.”
“An intruder?”
“I don’t know what she was doing there.”
“Ask her.”
“She’s dead, Chris.”
“Good God! Who could have done it?”
“I’m out of ideas,” said Gary.
“See you at the villa,” said Chris. ”It could have been
worse, Gary. Keep that in mind.”
***
“Suspect anyone, Cleo?” said Gary, as he dressed.
“If it had been a short and fat corpse, it could have been
Bryn Thomas. Since the corpse is female, I’d say it was Hilda Bone. We’ll have
to reconstruct the incident when we know who the corpse is. They both have
motives.”
“Why would Hilda Bone go to the villa without being invited,
let alone in the middle of the night?”
“If she were forced to,” said Cleo. “Or she followed someone
there.”
“I wonder who else
had a key to that room?” said Cleo. “I know I locked it because after sorting
through some stuff and filing it, I hung the key on my keyring. I knew the
shutters were closed and nailed from the outside for reasons I do not know, but
I put the light on and did not try to open them or the drapes. Were the
shutters nailed down so that they could not be opened in case someone wanted to
get into the empty house; squatters, for instance?
“Pavel might have nailed them together that to increase
security.”
“I don’t suppose he got round to telling me. I only moved
last Saturday.”
“So you did not ask him to nail down the shutters.”
“I asked him to secure them,” said Cleo. “I would have had
him open them when we’d moved. I did not know someone would be trapped inside
the room.”
“There will have been fumes that put the woman out of action
very quickly,” said Gary. “We don’t know how much of an attempt to escape was
made. The fire must have been pretty terrific since it was fed by all that
paper.”
“My documents, Gary.
“And your office equioment, Gary added.
“Surely It can’t have been one intruder. Someone locked that
door from the outside. It was a well thought out murder plan. Was it designed
to get rid of Hilda Bone? Of course, Mr Thomas would not burn his own house
down, would he? But someone else’s…”
“It’s horrible to think that a second person died in that
room after Dr Marble’s murder. You said then that you would not want’s to work
in a room where violence had occurred,” said Gary.
“I was shocked by events. I’m over it now.”
“Dorothy thought there might be a jinx on the villa, didn’t
she?”
“Dorothy is quite superstitious,” said Cleo. “She doesn’t go
under ladders on the 13th of the month and throws salt over her left
shoulder if she has spilt any.”
“I don’t go ladders on principle,” said Gary.
“What happened to that awful relative of Dr Marble? Harry, I
think his name was. His sister’s son, he always said and I always had my
doubt.”
“Incest?”
“Not necessarily. Dr Marble was a womanizer in his youth. I
remember wondering what he had looked like. He was quite an attractive senior
citizen.”
“Harry Marble was never convicted of a serious crime. I
remember that, because was suspected of his uncle’s killing so his past came
under scrutiny.”
“But he did time on some related charge, didn’t he? Maybe he
wanted to take revenge on the cop who turned him in.”
“That was, me wasn’t it? Would he take such a risk?”
“I meant to take those drapes down before I started working
in the office.”
“They may have fed the flames.”
“Drapes as an acute fire hazard? I can’t imagine a British
house without the obligatory nets and what they refer to as curtains.”
“Put like that…”
“We’ll cope, Gary. It might have been a pre-ordained event.”
“Please don’t start being mystical, Cleo.”
“Sometimes it helps to explain what happened.”
“I’ll leave that to the scientists. We can always call in a
soothsayer if we have problems solving the mystery,” said Gary. “I’ll take the
red car, shall I?”
“Ouch for that. Drive slowly!”
***
Gary speeded off in Cleo’s cabriolet. He was intensely
troubled by the situation while Cleo seemed to be taking it in her stride. How
irritating. What a woman she was and what an asshole he was, crumbling like
that. He would try to be cool and efficient, although he felt his brave new world
was crumbling around him.
***
“Are you insured?” was Chris’s first question.
“Yes, to the hilt,” said Gary. “That’s the only positive
thing about this whole tragedy. The bank would not let me borrow so much money
without a guarantee.”
“That’s something on the plus side. Let’s go in. I should
take photos before anything is disturbed. The arson experts tend to take things
apart looking for oil cans, lighters and stuff like that, but I need to know
who did it, not how much it is all going to cost. And to be honest, I’d like to
find the evidence first, if there is any.”
Gary and Chris introduced themselves to Mr Bird and he said
he would accompany them into the house. It was cooling off now and only one
fire engine remained on alert. Another hour and the danger of rekindling would
be gone. Most of the villa was sodden with foam and water. The fire brigade had
done a thorough job. It looked desolate.
The female corpse was severely charred and lying where it
had been found, clutching the fringe of a velvet drape that had only been
singed and gave off a strange smell.
“Acidic, that smell,” said Chris. “The curtains had been
soaked in boric acid, so they were more or less fire-proof. The dead person
must have tried to wrap herself in them, but evidently lacked the strength and
might have been half conscious by then. If that did not happen, we will need to
know if the corpse was rendered unconscious and then left to burn. Looking at
her staring eyes, I’d say that she had not been rendered unconscious. I’ll
close them now. Dead eyes are really scary. Closing them is the last kindness
we can give to a dead person. I’m always very humbled by the thought that
behind those eyes is the truth we might never know.”
Gary turned away as the horror in Chris’s monologue upset
him. Gary was always emotional about corpses, whoever they were. He was shaken
by the sight of the poor woman who had to die in such horrible circumstances.
“I’ll send a photo to Cleo. I ‘m rather sorry it isn’t the
short, fat guy who apparently inherited half Hilda’s house and wanted the other
half, too.”
“So he would be better off without her, wouldn’t he?” said
Chris. “That sounds like a perfect murder motive.”
“Assuming it is Hilda Stone dead in an empty house because
she played some kind of role in a murder plot?”
Gary sent Cleo a snapshot of the corpse and the horrific one
he made of her office and received a fast phone-call in return.
“It could be Hilda judging by the figure. I can’t see the
face in the photo.”
“It isn’t pretty, Cleo. The dead person must have tried to
shield herself with the curtains. I can take another one now Chris has closed
the poor beggar’s eyes. I did not want to photograph those frightened eyes.”
“I suppose it is a woman and not one of those travesty
guys.”
“The shoes look small and feminine. Could it be Dorothy,
after all?” said Gary.
“What would she be doing at the villa? We decided that she
would not be involved, Gary.”
“Just a thought.”
“I’ll have to phone her anyway. She needs to know before the
news gets around any other way. I’m sure she’ll be at home.”
“I’d hate her not to be, Cleo.”
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