Episode 17 - Tit for Tat

Wednesday December 23.

Cleo did not often have a sleepless night. Sleep is a luxury when you have half a dozen children to organize, so you don’t throw away precious minutes thinking about why you aren’t asleep.

It was Gary’s unusual insomnia that affected the Hurley household that Wednesday morning long before breakfast. He was pacing round the living-room trying to decide what to do with his prisoners at HQ two days before the ‘season of good will’. Never had he been quite as baffled about a case as about the enigma of who set the villa on fire. There comes a moment when motives become a secondary priority, and none more so if it really had been an accident, he mused.

Cleo thought it probably was an accidental blaze and Chris’s forensic evidence did not contradict that idea. Could Hilda have lit a cigarette and then dropped it or the lighted match onto something inflammable in the office (and there was enough of it lying around) and then not have been able to get out, because there was no way out if the door was locked from the outside and the windows shuttered. Neither could she have quenched the flames before they got out of control, since there was no water in the room, not even a vase of flowers. Could the story about Hilda Bone running back to the villa because she had forgotten her scarf even be true? 
Eventually, Cleo realized that her brewing insomnia was not going to go away when Gary had given up the night for a bad job and PeggySue was clambering a good hour too soon for her breakfast, so she got up, dressed in the ‘her’ half of the ‘his and hers’ winter dressing-gowns to which Cleo had treated them on-line when the summer heatwave had been banished by sharp October winds. Gary had been persuaded that if you could not beat the weather’s eccentricities, you had to join them, even if being dressed in nothing at all was your preference. It was Gary’s first dressing gown ever. He had previously relied on Cleo’s original Japanese kimono (bought decades ago on a street market in Chicago) if he had to be respectable. Cleo had jokingly suggested that if money got short he could always do strip-shows at hen parties and earn a fortune. She had been rewarded with an approving nod. It had not come to that yet, fortunately, she mused.
***
“What if the guys really are both innocent?” was Gary’s good morning greeting, voicing his hitherto wordless thoughts, knowing as usual that Cleo would have picked them up in some mysterious way.

“But are they?”

“What?”

“Both innocent. Are you sleep-walking?”

“Marble says he left the villa with Thomas. The only motive Thomas could have had for setting fire to the villa was to help Marble. But would he go that far?”

“He would, if Marble had convinced him that it was the mutual good-turn arrangement,” said Cleo. “But I’m not sure if Marble even believes that the bank owned the villa and then sold it because it was liability.”

“And what about Hilda running back to get her scarf?”

“It sounds feasible. Have both guys told the same story?”

“I’m not a hundred percent sure, if I’m honest," Gary admitted. "But we can assume that they concocted their story together somehow, maybe in a phone-call.”

“Then you’ll have to ask them again separately.”

“You ask them, Cleo!”

“OK, if I have to. The villa was only one third Marble’s, if at all. Silvie and Jessie were Dr Marble’s daughters, so they had the same entitlement as Marble even if he was the product of an incestuous relationship. But we don’t know that for sure, so the DNA will have to be tested. If he is related to Jessie, for example, then they must be related and the short explanation is that they have same father. I should think the fatherhood of many kids has been lied about since the year dot. Could Marble now prove he is Dr Marble’s son rather than the guy who visited his uncle only to get money? I wonder if Dr Marble gave the so-called nephew money because it was his son and Harry was blackmailing him.”

“That’s a new one on me,“ said Gary, "but you can even say which part of the globe people came from by reading a DNA test."

“I seem to remember that idea coming up in the last dealings we had with Harry Marble.”

“Not that any of this would matter if he is innocent,” said Gary. 

“I’m sure Chris could find out. A DNA test from his mother might help. That would mean asking her about her incesruous relationship with her borther. If there was doubt about ownership rights, the bank jumped the guns and committed a huge legal blunder, Gary.”

"Is she still alive?"

"She was a lot younger than her brother, though that isn't an argument. I assume that she had her son Harry are estranged."

“I'd rather avoid that confrontaiton,” said Gary. 

"You can't," said Cleo.

“Marble ownership of the house was to all intents and purposes lost when the bank stepped in. I doubt whether one of the Marble family could ever have bought it back. Since the house was heavily mortgaged (and we don't know what was in Dr Marble's biography that led such an affluent person to amass such horrendous debts), it’s legal for the creditor to take over ownership when the estate could not buy the house back out of other estate sources.”

“Could there have been a cover-up of some kind?”

“Henry is the superintendent who is supposed to look at corrupt business crime,” said Gary, “but Henry is a manager with no desire to burden himself with cases he can avoid and I doubt whether he conserved reports that would be damning for him. In fact, I think Henry's whole accounting is on shaky ground. Now I'm a Superintenent I will look into that.”

"Spy on a colleage?" said Cleo.

"Spy on a crook," said Gary.

“Isn’t dealing with civil cases part of his job?”

“He has no separate department for that, Cleo. Just the stuff involving lawyers and I should think that they would rather avoid any corruption becoming public knowledge. In practice, the house had long since gone into the bank’s possession. The bank may have been high-handed, but it was legally doing the right thing, since debts on the house were increasing with no payments coming in. I expect the bank was not interested in letting the house to recoup money. A bank is not a house agent. If they let it short term, it was because they did not have a buyer.”

“I wonder if one of those three designated owners signed anything,” Cleo mused.

“What?”

"Acknowledgement that the villa was not theirs until they paid off the debts."

“The bank would have to reveal any deal it had with a house-owner,” said Gary.

“The only available 'owner' will not really have understood what was going on, and yiou think the bank would have accepted her signater anyway? That puts them on the wrong side of the law,” said Cleo.

"Don't forget that Jessie can appear quite normal. She has her pride. She would not want the bank to know she did not know what she was signing," said Gary. “So it’s on the cards that Jessie set the ball rolling without realizing it. But being told that she would be no more pay-outs now the ehouse had been sold and the debt paid leaving nothing for her could have supplied her with a motive for arson,” Gary suggested. “We should find out exactly what she was expecting.”

“That would help us not to speculate,” said Cleo.

“Can you talk to her?”

“What about getting Greg questioning Jessie, after which we bring Marble and Thomas together and we see how they react to one another before adding Jessie' presence, if it comes to that.”

“It could work,” said Cleo, who was not as optimistic as she sounded.

“Let's have some breakfanst and talk about the questioning tactics in the car, shall we?”

“I already have an idea,” said Cleo.

“I can’t wait!”

“But we will need to talk to Jessie.”

“I’ll have her collected by a patrol car.”

“She might not be available."

“I’ll get it sorted out now,” said Gary.

And to everyone’s surprise, the situation was manageable. Jessie would get to HQ under her own steam. Mollie could manage the pub on her own for an hour or two.

***

Leaving Grit, and Robert in charge of the very little ones while Toni took the older little ones  to nursery school, Gary and Cleo were out of the cottage before nine, scraped the snow and ice off the red coupé and drove cautiously down Thumpton Hill.

“The kids will love having a white Christmas,” said Cleo, and regretted saying that immediately since it started Gary off into a tuneless rendering of ‘I’m dreaming of …’

At HQ, the staff parking looked like a corner of Siberia, but at least someone had tried to find the lines dividing the parking spaces and the route via the back entrance was strewn with grit and looked quite safe.

“Just hold on to me,” said Gary. “I need you with intact limbs.”

“Better hold on to me, then,” said Cleo, as Gary slithered around in leather-soled shoes.

Nigel had taken an early bus to HQ since his tyres were not up to packed snow, so he was already in Gary’s superintendent office and surprised that Gary had not only decided to defy the winter, but brought Cleo along.

"He needed someone to hold onto," Cleo joked.

“We’ll get the Marble case solved this morning,” Gary bragged. “But we’ll need Greg.”

“He’s in his office liaising with Mike Curlew.”

“I made a list of questions both Marble and Thomas will have to answer. Can you make a copy, Nigel?” said Cleo.

“Not only can, but will,” said Nigel.

“Make several, please,". One for Gary, one for me, one for you, nad not forgetting Greg.”

“Yizr wish is my command, Madam," said Nigel.

Gary phoned Greg and set up the interview procedure. Mike Curlew would witness Greg’s questioning. Half an hour later, Marble was escorted to Greg’s office while Gary confronted Bryn Thomas.

As yet there was no sign of Jessie so Cleo was at a loose end, not wanting to attend Bryn Thomas's interview.. 

“We’ll go your office, Nigel,” said Gary.

“OK, Boss.”

“I’m Lord and Master now.”

“I’ll ignore that,” said Nigel.

“I thought you would.”

“Are you guys practising stand-up comedy?” said Cleo. “Where’s the coffee?”

“Downstairs.”

"OK, funny guys. Let’s move. Cleo was having second thoughts abou avoiding Thomas.”

Nigel phoned down to get Bryn Thomas brought to his third floor office. He hoped the guy would not ask him when he could join the Lucky 13 troupe.

***

Reception phoned to say that Miss Coppins had arrived and where should she go? Cleo was keen to talk to the woman before she saw Marble and before and Thomas met, so she went down to meet Jessie and questioned her intensively in one of the downstairs offices. She was not disappointed about missing Btyn Thomas.

Mia Curlew, who never seemed to be off-duty now her husband Mike was involved in building up a new drugs enquiry team, had ledr their son in the care of Mike’s mother, who had come to stay, and would witness Cleo’s chat with Jessie.
***
“Did you look in my office at the villa, Jessie,” Cleo started with her usual habit of not preparing her interviewee for what was coming.
“I don’t remember,” said Jessie.

“Did you find your way around the house with a lighted candle,  or did you use your torch, Jessie?”

“I dropped my torch when I ran away after ... you know what. Which candle?”

"Was there more than one," Cleo mused.

“You can confirm that you came back to the villa after running away from Mr Marble, can’t you?”

"What's confirm, Miss?"

"So that it did happen, Jessie."

Jessie bit her lips. Cleo had a way of making you think she was reading your thoughts, she decided.

“I was talking about the candle in the kitchen drawer, Jessie. You remember now, don’t you?”

Jessie responded to the ‘leg-up’, as Cleo knew she would.

“Oh, that candle,” Jessie said.

“Are you going to tell me where you went with the candle?”

“I can’t remember,” said Jessie.

“Did you wear your gloves on that very cold evening?”

“What gloves?”

“The ones you are wearing now, Jessie. Do you always wear them?”

“Only when it’s very cold, Miss.”

“And it was very cold on the evening you went back to the villa to look around, wasn’t it, Jessie?

“Yes, Miss.”

“How did you get in?”

“The back door wasn’t locked, Miss. It never is.”

Cleo reflected that that confirmed that Marble went there when Pavel and his team had left. He would leave the door unlocked for whoever he was meeting there. 

"Every day, Jessie?"

"Not every day."

Cleo did not pursue that line. Was Jessie herself using the house for soliciting?

“It was very brave of you to go upstairs in the dark.”

“The moon was shining, Miss.”

“But it was silly, wasn’t it? All alone in a strange house…”

Cleo wondered if Jessie remembered that she had answere some of the questions before.

“A friend was....”

“Waiting, Jessie?”

Jessie nodded. Cleo thought it was rather curious that the woman had in fact had a date with Marble, but had later accused him of rape, unless her date had been with Thomas, but that was unlikely. There had to be another reason for her to want to see Marble behind bars. Haf she understood her position in the inheritance queue?

“But you ran away, didn’t you?”

“Not before…”

“…he gave you money?” said Cleo, to whom that had previously occurred but been set aside. "For sex?"

Jessie nodded again. She seemed to be struggling with her conscience. Marble was a monster to molest a simple-minded woman like Jessie, even if she had consented to an assignation in return for payment.

“And then you later decided to come back and look around, did you?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Weren’t you afraid of being caught?”

“I was very quiet, Miss.”

“I suppose it was too dark to see much, wasn’t it?”

“That’s why I looked for the candle, Miss,” said Jessie, who was getting tired of answering questions.

“You were lucky to find one, Jessie. The kitchen cupboards were otherwise empty.”

“I know,” said Jessie. “I looked.”

“So what happened after you had looked everywhere in the kitchen?”

“I heard the voices, Miss.”

“Whose voices?”

“Mr Marble, a lady and the other man, Miss.”

“What did you do when you heard the voices?”

“I hid in the pantry, Miss.”

“How long were you in the pantry?”

“Ages. There was a big row, Miss. Then a door slammed and then another and then there were no more voices so I waited for a bit and then came out.”

“I think we’ll stop there, Jessie. We’ll talk later.”

“But…”

“No buts, Jessie. I have something to attend to, but I’d like to hear the rest of the story.”

“Yes, Miss.”

The idea that Cleo had mentioned to Gary was shaping up, but she was loath to take the interview further without him, so she left Mia in charge. She was to Jessie to the canteen for some second breakfast. Mia would bring Jessie to Gary’s old office when asked to do so.

***
Soon after eleven and deparate short interviews that had yielded nothing, the confrontation between Marble and Thomas began with a continuation of the row they had presumably been having when they met at the villa on that fateful night of the fire. It was an aggrieved dispute about how each of them was going to get possession of the respective houses to which they thought they were entitled. 

The two women who would have inherited some or all of the bequest, Mrs Thomas and Hilda Bone, were dead, but the men were at one another’s throats in no time, accusing one another of not getting on with the job. The two dead womrn were of no further interest.

“What job?” Gary asked as he and Greg separated the men.

Neither answered.

“Which of you struck Mrs Bone? She bore bruises that could not have been sustained in the fire.”

“I didn’t,” said Marble.

Thomas accused him of doing the bullying.

“I didn’t tell him to do that,” he said.

“So, Mr Marble, you’d better explain why you struck her,” said Gary.

Cleo chipped in.

“Did Thomas give you money to put Mrs Bone out of action?”

“Yes,” said Marble, thinking that such a confession was the lesser evil.

“That’s a lie,” said Thomas.

“500 now and two grand when she was out of the way,” said Marble.

“So you were hired as a killer, were you?” said Cleo.

“Not as a killer,” said Marble. "I'm not a killer."

“You’d better explain that, Mr Marble,” said Gary.

***

“I was to get rid of her, that’s all.”

“I tend to think of that as an order to kill someone,” said Gary.

“Shut up, Marble,” Thomas interrupted.

“He’s telling lies,” he told Gary.

“So what’s your version of the event, Mr Thomas?” said Cleo.

“Better still, tell us what you were going to do for Mr Marble?” said Gary.

“Make sure he got Hilda's house,” said Thomas.

“That’s too vague, Mr Thomas. How were you going to do that?”

“Get rid of that little slut Coppins.”

“Really,” said Gary. “Why?”

“Her father left her a share in the house. That’s why.”

“Did Marble tell you that?”

“He told me that when I phoned him to say that I was to get a house, too.”

“Tit for tat?” said Cleo. “Now you could do something for Mr Marble and that would help him to help you, would it?”

“More or less,” said Thomas.

“So when you tried to arrange to meet Miss Coppins, it wasn’t to have sex but to kill her. And Marble got in first, didn’t he? He had decided he could not leave you to deal with the woman.”

“I didn’t rape her,” was all Marble said.

“I don’t suppose you had to,” said Cleo. “But if she had not run away, Miss Coppins would likely not be alive today, would she?”
***
Gary rang Mia and asked her to bring the ‘lady’ to his second floor office. Then he asked Nigel to make coffee for everyone. They would all relax for a moment. Ten minutes later Jessie Coppins made her grand entrance, accompanied by Mia and entirely unsuspecting of what was going to happen next.

Jessie’s horror at seeing Marble was genuine, not because of the sex episode, but because of her accusation, which she consequently thought was the reason for his being at HQ. But what about the other man? Wasn’t he the person who tried to get off with her and was too late for their date? What was going on? Though Jessie was not very bright, she reasoned that it must be something to do with her and was correspondingly on the defensive. She moved to stand next to Cleo.

“Is this the man who raped you, Miss Coppins?” Gary asked, pointing to Marble.

“Yes,” the woman stuttered.

“You damned slut,” shouted Marble. “I did not rape you.”

“Don’t get excited, Mr Marble,” said Cleo. “You were brutal and she was comparing you with her father’s abuse years ago. The result of that abuse was two illegitimate, incestuous kids.”

“She seemed to be enjoying herself,” said Marble.

“Is that true, Jessie?” said Gary.

Jessie nodded ashamedly.

“So let’s withdraw that complaint, Jessie, shall we?” said Cleo.

“Yes Miss.”

“But I’d like to know why you reported his behaviour as rape,” said Gary. “It’s a very serious charge and Mr Marble would have gone to prison for a long time, Miss Coppins. You can’t tell the police such terrible lies.”

“I can if I saw him kill my father,” Jessie said.

“You didn’t know he was your father until later, did you?” Cleo said.

“Later?”

“After he was dead.”

“No Miss.”

“That case was reopened and Mr Marble was pardoned.”

At this moment Bryn Thomas broke into the dialogue.

“Is that true, Marble?” he said. “I would never have helped someone who had killed someone.”

“You heard, Bryn. They pardoned me. The evidence was too thin and this slut – I mean person – was the only witness- Her mental state is unstable.”

“Does that mean you did murder him?” said Thomas.

“You heard, Marble said carefully. "The case was cleared up, Bryn.”

“What really mystifies me,” said Mia, “is that Jessie endured sex with a person she thought had murdered her father.”

“Jessie had deduced that Dr Marble was her father because her mother had done housekeeping tasks for him for many years and was, it must be said, a loose woman who collected money from two fathers for Jessie,” said Cleo. “But that was later. I think she saw the rape accusation as a perfect way to avenge her father.”

I was expecting to meet Mr Thomas upstairs,” said Jessie.

“Did you have a date with Miss Coppins?” Gary asked Thomas.

“Yes, but I was late and Harry got there first.”

It was a coincidence,” said Marble. “I don’t usually go for sluts.”

“But opportunity knocked,” said Gary.

Marble turned to look at Thomas. Cleo thought he must be thinking up some bluff or other.

“What the hell were you going to do with her, Bryn?” Marble said. 

Thomas drew a flat hand across his own neck, miming what he had planned, unnoticed, he thought. “You paid me to get her out of the way, Marble,” he added in a low voice. 

“But you did not want to get your flabby little hands dirty,” sneered Marble.

“And you got in first,” cizbtered Thomas.

With those words, Thomas took out a bunch of keys and held one up.

“This is the key of the back door of the villa,” he said.  “I got it from Marble in case the door was locked."

“Can I compare it with mine, Mr Thomas?” said Gary.

Thomas handed over the keys. The key in question matched Gary’s.

“So you could get into the house any time,” said Gary. “I’ll keep the key.”

“It’s mine,” said Thomas.

“The villa is mine,” said Gary.

“Doesn’t the house belong to Harry?”

“Did he tell you that, MrThomas?” Gary asked.

“Yes.”

“What were you going to do with Miss Coppins, Thomas. You don’t associate with women, do you?” said Gary.

Thomas ignored the insinuation.

“I've already told you that I had a date with her, but when I got there, I could hear her and someone 'at it' upstairs.”

“Where was Hilda Bone at that time?” Cleo asked.

“At home.”

“So you only pretended later that you did not know the way to the villa, I suppose.”

“Marble had told me he would deal with her if I took her to the villa.”

“So your colleague was going to deal with Mrs Bone for you, was he?” said Cleo. “I don’t think we need to ask the gentlemen more questions right now. Each of them hired the other to kill the women they decided was going to be in the way.”

***
“I don’t remember such a case before,” said Gary quietly to Cleo.

And it doesn't explain the fire,” said Cleo," just the sordid goings on of a menage à trois.".

***
Turning to Jessie, Cleo asked her to tell the detectives why she had returned to the villa later.

“To finish looking around, Miss. I told you that.”

But these men needed to know, Jessie.”

“I’m interested, Jessie. We all are,” said Gary.

“So you took the candle through the hall to my office at the front of the house.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Was the office door open, Jessie?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“So you decided to take a look, did you?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“What did you see, Jessie,” said Cleo.

“A woman on the floor, Miss. I thought she was dead.”

“Did you drop the lighted candle, Jessie?”

“I don’t remember, Miss,” said Jessie.

“I expect that was because you were scared and wanted to get out of the house, wasn’t it?” said Cleo, motioning to Gary to let Jessie do the talking as much as she was able to with her limited ability to express herself.

“I was shaking, Miss. I had heard them two men rowing, hadn’t I?”

“Yes, Jessie. The candle wobbled out of your hand and you ran away without looking back.”

“Yes Miss.”

“But you slammed the office door shut first, didn’t you?”

“Someone could have been hiding behind the curtain and followed me, Miss.”

“And there you have it, folks,” said Cleo, admittedly feeling a little smug at that moment.

***

“Take Miss Coppins down, Nigel, and organise some kind of transport so that she can get home. I expect she’s working at the pub in Huddlecourt Minor and should get there a.s.a.p.”

 “Can I go now?” Marble and Thomas asked separately.

“No, gentlemen. Take them to their cells,” Gary instructed the waiting security guards.

***

“Applause, applause, my love,” said Gary, as he and Cleo got into Gary car to drive home to Upper Grumpsfield. Brilliant thinking, as usual.”

“Quite simple, really. I’m annoyed with myself for not having the idea sooner.”

“Better late than never.”

“As Sherlock Holmes said: Eliminate all other factors, and the one which remains must be the truth.”

“Words put into Holmes’s mouth by Conan Doyle, my love.”

“Sure. All authors smuggle their minds into their books” said Cleo. “We could go to Romano’s and get a takeaway for lunch.”

“Two days before Christmas?” said Gary.

“It’s a chance to catch up on …”

“I’ll phone Romano, shall I?”

“I’m sure he isn’t booked out, Gary. Let’s risk it, shall we?”

 “Just like in the old days. Let’s hope we don’t end up sharing a bed with your mother, then.”

“I’d forgotten about her.”

“So it’s home for lunch and siesta, is it?”

“I rather think so.”

“We could discuss our next case,” said Gary.

“Two days before Christmas?”

“The case of the missing lametta, for instance.”

“Or the case of the stolen turkey.”

“I’d go for the case of the footstep in the snow,” said Cleo. “But, take your pick, Mr Poirot.”