Episode 16 - Hanky-panky

Tuesday cont.

“As far as I can see, I’m, the only one round here who actually sticks to the facts,” said Chris.

“What facts?” Gary asked.

They were sitting in his Superintendent office and Gary was cheesed off.

“For a start, a quick blood test on Mrs Thomas confirmed that she must have drunk an awful lot of hard liquor before emptying her box of diazepam. That cocktail is what killed her.”

“Suicide?”

“That would be guesswork. She is probably a victim of accidental death, since she had drunk well over the eight – and by the way, the canteen sold her the bottle of gin that we found empty – so she won’t have known what she was doing with the pills. The outcome is confirmed by the result of the blood test, so you can close that case.”

“And Hilda?”

“Knocked senseless and gassed by lethal fumes.”

“So that case has to be kept open till we find out who started the fire.”

“Yes,” said Chris. “But have you ever considered that Hilda Bone might have started the fire herself by dropping a cigarette onto papers, and then could not find a way out? There was no water to dowse the flames. Or a cigarette had smouldered in the waste paper basket and flared up when she was on her own, though why she would want to be there on her own is a mystery.”

“That elementary solution had not occurred to me or to Cleo. Can you support that idea in any way?”

“We found a half melted waste basket. The woman might have been clutching at the curtain out of desperation, trying to find a way out through the window.”

“So we have three suspects, not two.”

“If Thomas and Marble can prove somehow that they left the villa together with no other thought than to leave, they might be due for elimination from that list.”

“But you say that Hilda was knocked out,” said Gary.

“The three may have had a fight, and the two men left her there because she got on their nerves.”

“Now who’s speculating,” said Gary. “She was hit on the head bz someone.”

A new idea came to Cleo.

“Did the fire have to have started in the office, Chris? Couldn’t it have started somewhere else?”

“”I doubt it,” said Chris.

“The house was empty and fire has to have something to catch fire to that will spread the fire. The power was off, so there can’t have been a short circuit, can there_” said Cleo. “But the fire spread upwards and then sideways away from the main bedroom. It also spread down the carpeted wooden staircase. Of course, it’s possible that there were two sources of fire.”

“Was that the verdict of the fire brigade?” Chris asked. “They will obviously need solid facts to pass on to the insurance. The fire brigade cannot afford to make wrong judgments. It would immediately smack of corruption.”

“And it could have been started without actually going into the villa, couldn’t it, for instance, someone throwing a burning candle and then running off might cause a fire in the hall,” Cleo suggested.

“Who would do that?” Gary asked.

“Jessie Coppins.”

“What makes you say that, Cleo?”

“On her own account, she lit a candle to take a look round for stuff to pinch, heard voices and went outside. She left the candle somewhere, but doesn’t remember.”

“Then we’ll find it or rather, the candle stick.”

“There might not be one. She found the candle in a drawer in the kitchen and lit it,” said Cleo. “If Jessie intended to set fire to the house, she could have upstairs and set fire to the bed she was raped in. That’s the sort of action abused women take.”

“Always assuming that she was abused,” said Gary.

“I don’t think she would have compared Marble to her father if she had not been abused, but that’s irrelevant now,” said Cleo.

“I don’t agree,” said Gary.

***

Chris had a phone number to a student who had more than been once paid by the hour to organize a search for things or even people. He gave instructions and was assured that it would be dealt with immediately. Of course, he could have ordered official searchers, but the students were discrete and did not ask questions, would get to work immediately and needed the money.”

“They are good at finding things,” Chris explained to Gary.

“Thanks, but as Cleo said, if Jessie just lit a candle, she may not have thought of putting it in a candlestick and it melted away.”

“But we’ll leave no stone unturned,” said Chris. “That’s almost rule number one in forensic science.”

***

Let’s move on then,” said Gary.

“Third case: the arsenic victims,” said Chris.

“Go on. Tell me the worst.”

“You’re on the right track there, Gary,” said Chris. “The unfortunate Mrs Burton must have swallowed a large dose of arsenic in a cocktail of cyanide.”

“No messing about then,” said Gary. “We’ve just had cyanide. Remember that case? Nasty stuff.”

“The cyanide probably did the trick for Mrs Burton,” said Chris. “Definitely murder and probably inflicted by that woman, Daisy Young, as intimated in your short report. Do you want me to exhume any of the other recent deaths at that home?”

“I’ll sanction one for a start. You choose which one and let me have the report. It would be good to have confirmation of Daisy Young’s thirst for murder.”

“Very wise,” said Chris.

“At least we got that right,” said Gary. “Incidentally, Marble should be out of hospital today. I’ll challenge him about the fire. And he was the guy who raped Jessie Coppins on our new bed in the villa on the night of the fire.”

“Who told you that?”

“Jessie.”

“What an unpleasant individual he must be,” said Chris, “and versatile.”

“Why versatile?”, said Cleo. “He’s a brute.”

“Earlier you seemed unsure about Jessie’s story,” said Chris.

“She makes thing up,” said Cleo. “I’m not sure about her mental age.”

***

When Chris had gone, Gary almost patted himself on the back for focussing on that candle. Jessie had told plenty of lies. Could the story of the candle also be one? The story of being raped was shaky. Gary did not usually believe men trying to get out of that sort of scrape, but the girl was surely not the kind a man like Marble would want to be bothered with, even for sexual thrills. In Jessie’s case, Gary thought it would be a question of avoiding her. Such simple-minded females were sometimes also predators. Had she seduced him?

***

On arrival from the hospital, Marble was brought between the two guards who had collected him into the second floor office where Nigel now officially presided. Gary would use that office to question Marble. His office on the third floor did not yet have up-to-date recording equipment. (Gary wondered about that and would improve on it). Nigel sat at his corner table and took notes. It wasn’t strictly necessary, but Nigel also recorded small details such as clenched fists or blushing, and that was often a useful confirmation of a suspect’s guilt, nervousness, or volatile temperament.

“What time did you get to the villa on the evening of the fire?” Gary started.

“About eight.”

“In time to follow your basic instinct, I take it,” said Gary.

 Marble said nothing but looked somewhat bemused.

“What time was your meeting with Thomas scheduled?”

“Eleven. I had a date before then.”

“So it was a basic instinct date, was it?”

 “She’s married now, so our meetings are clandestine,” he said.

“Are we thinking about the same person, Mr Marble?”

“Who are you thinking of,” said Marble.

“You first,” said Gary.

“I meet Edith Parsnip now and again,” he said. “Were you thinking of her?”

“Never mind that. Did you always meet at the villa?”

“And you met in the villa?”

“Anything wrong with that? It is mine.”

“Let’s not go into ownership now, Mr Marble. Did you also encounter Jessie Coppins on the night of the night?”

“That grubby village girl?”

“That young woman is your half-sister so an intimate encounter would be incest,” said Gary. “Remember that we are talking about the night of the fire.”

“That stupid girl watched me with Edith and Wow! Did we put on a show,” said Marble. “After Edith left, the girl got into bed with me. She wanted to know if I could do the same for her.”

Gary laughed so hard at that story that Nigel dropped notebook and biro and rushed into the cubby-hole kitchenette to make coffee. All he needed now was Edith Parsnip so he fervently hoped that Gary would not demand her presence so that she could confirm her tryst with Marble. She was definitely not his favourite person. He remembered her lascivious looks in his direction. Jessie might be a bit smelly, but at least she kept her distance, though admittedly she had encouraged Marble.”

“And did you?”

“It was dark. I didn’t have to look at her.”

“And after that you met Thomas, I suppose.”

“And that female he had moved in with,” Marble said. “Fortunately there was soap and a towel in the bathroom, so I freshened up before going downstairs.”

“He did not doss down, Mr Marble, he moved in with a view to her moving out.”

“So he did,” said Marble. “We had plans for that house and the villa.”

Gary did not react to that statement.

“After meeting Thomas, did you leave the villa on your own, Mr Marble?”

“No,” he said.

“Who were you with?”

“Bryn Thomas, of course. You know that.”

“Where was Hilda?”

“She was with us, too,” he said, clearly irritated.

“But she was found in the villa,” said Gary.

“She went back, didn’t she?”

“Did she?”

“She’d left her scarf there.”

“Had she? Can you describe the scarf, Mr Marble?”

“Colourful. Had flowers on it, I remember. I didn’t see her again. We waited for a bit and then walked down the hill to the kiosk on the corner. You can always get a drink there.”

“So she had been wearing the scarf when you met at the villa.”

“Yes,” said Marble. “She draped it over a chair, I think-. She wasn’t wearing it when we left the villa.”

“We’ll check on that,” said Gary.

“She wouldn’t have gone back to the villa if she had been wearing the scarf, but she wasn’t.”

“How was she going to get in?” Gary asked.

“Now you ask…  She must have got the key from somewhere – the bank, probably. She’d probably been hired to clean up.”

“How do you know that?”

“Bryn told me someone would have to clean up after such a long vacancy.”

Gary knew the story did not sound right. Dorothy would have spotted the incongruence.”

“Either the door was still open, or she had a key, or you’ve just told me a pack of lies, Mr Marble,” he said.

“Won’t the scarf have got burnt?”

“If it existed, I suppose it would.”

“So even if you don’t find it, you can’t accuse me of story-telling, can you?”

“No, but why would you tell me such a story, Mr Marble?

“I wouldn’t. It’s the truth. Can I can go now?”

“We still have the small matter of Jessie Coppins’ accusation of rape to discuss.”

“Rape?”

“She says that you raped her at the villa,” said Gary.

“I certainly did not. I’ve told you exactly what happened. We had sex, but she wanted it hard and brutal, like Edith.”

“That’s not what she said, Mr Marble.”

“But I’m telling you how it was. That woman’s a hussy. She watched me with Edith and then she wanted the same.”

“But you didn’t rape Edith, did you?”

“Heavens, no. She’s a man-eater.”

 “It’s all still a rather tall story, Marble,” said Gary.

“Hasn’t Edith tried you out yet?”

“Fortunately not, but I know from another source that she is as you describe.”

“Robert, I expect,” said Marble. “She wanted to know what she could do to make Robert ‘go’.”

“Poor guy. My wife’s ex.”

“Didn’t she try?”

“I doubt it…” said Gary. “Hers was more a marriage between friends. Robert Jones despises sex, Mr Marble.”

“He got in with Mollie Moss, but she must have had the same experience because she now shacks up with a teenager.”

“You’re will informed, Mr Marble.”

“It pays to know the lie of the land,” said Marble.

***

“So let’s recap,” said Gary.  ”You go to the house three hours before you are due to meet Bryn Thomas because you have arranged a tryst with Edith. Jessie Coppins spies on you and wants you to do the same with her.”

“That’s how it was.”

“Of course, Jessie is a person of low intelligence who has been taken advantage of more than once, Mr Marble, and knows it.”

“How can she know if she’s congenitally stupid?”

“Because people at that intellectual level are not too stupid to think of their bodily urges and what they want and don’t want. Miss Coppins knows when she is being subjected to violence. Her father’s violence produced 2 kids, for example.”

“You could have fooled me,” said Marble. “I do not use violence on women and I can assure you that she was not stuck on vanilla sex. It takes two to tango”

“Leave it at that, Mr Marble,” said Gary.

“And believe me; I don’t confess to anything I haven’t done,” said Marble, “Jessie tells lies. I’ll go now.”

“You’ll go as far as an arrest cell, Mr Marble. I will have to arrest you for suspected rape until we get Jessie to admit she was lying, though I’m honest when I say that I believe you. We can check Edith’s whereabouts that evening to confirm your activity with her. But I’m also charging you with breaking and entering into the villa and there may be that small matter of Hilda Bone’s death, in which you might be involved.”

“You’ll have to prove all that,” said Marble. “And you can’t because none of it has anything to do with me.”

“That’s as maybe,” said Gary, and signalled to the security guard ri take Marble dwon to the cells handcuffed.

***

“You didn’t really get him for anything, did you Gary?” said Nigel. That bit about Edith was just about more than I can stand. The guy’s a predator.”

“Bluff is often part of the game. It gives us time to work something out. I’ll talk to Bryn Thomas now, but I believe the Edith story.She leaves no page unturned, Nigel.”

“Are you confessing, Gary?”

“Certainly not.”

“Marble’s story was very convincing, Gary,” said Nigel.

“That’s the problem. He won’t crack, either. And he could be innocent.”

“What about Bryn Thomas?”

“Never mind him now, Nigel. He can wait until tomorrow. But I’d like to talk to Edith Parsnip today, if possible. A patrol car can be sent to pick her up.

“To sum up for my notes, you don’t think Marble raped the woman, do you, Gary?”

“I don’t think he’s the type and his Edith story was convincing. Let’s see what she has to say. The problem with Jessie is that she has a very poor idea of what rape is except that anything that hurts must be rape because her father raped her.”

“That’s terrible.“

”Jessie could have been hanging for the sake of it, followed the happy couple up the stairs unseen, watched their little sex orgy and was envious.”

“Nasty.”

“I agree, but she’s immature mentally and a woman physically.”

“Wouldn’t she have more luck on the streets?”

“She isn’t that sort of girl.”

“But she’s as precocious as they come.”

“She takes after her mother. Marble said it wasn’t rape and I’m inclined to believe him, but would a judge?”

“And you can’t prove it either way, can you?”

“No. But if you question Jessie closely, you realize that she does not really know what happened and that story of her getting into bed after Edith had just left it sounds authentic matching her eagerness to enjoy what Edith had obviously enjoyed.”

***

Edith turned up just forty minutes later.

“What’s the matter, Gary?”

“Nothing terrible, Edith. I just need confirmation of where you were on the night of the villa fire.”

Edith looked consternated.

“I don’t remember, Gary,” she said.

“Of course you do. Will you tell me or shall I tell you. Which is it to be?”

“I left long before the fire,” she said.

“I know you did. Can you confirm that you had a date with Harry Marble that evening?”

“Is Brass checking up on me?”

“No, Edith, your husband knows nothing about your extramural activity and I’ll keep your name out of the report of you are honest with me.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I’ve kept in touch with Harry ever since Kelly introduced us,” she explained. “He’s such a nice man and after being in prison he needed a little cheering up, so we arranged to meet at the villa a few times since I could not ask him home and he was not sure where he would be living. That Tuesday was a very nice meeting,” she said.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, Edith,” said Gary. “That’s all I needed to know. Nigel has only noted that fact, but I think you should tell your husband,” said Gary.

“I can’t do that,” said Edith. “We need each other.”

“But you need Mr Marble, as well, don’t you?”

“I’ll let you into a secret, Gary,” she said. “Robert was not a patch on Harry, and neither is Brass, though he tried harder.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” said Gary. “I’ll drive you home now, Edith, or would you prefer to go with the patrol team?”

“Well, one of those policemen was very nice to me.”

“It won’t be the same team, Edith.”

“Can you find out who the policeman was who drove me here.”

Gary phoned Gisela and found out who had been to collect Edith. No, there was no complaint.

“Gordon Storm,” he reported to Gisela. “I’ll get his phone number for you. I’m sure he’ll appreciate you wanting to thank him personally.”

“I’m sure he will,“ said Edith. “Can you take me home?”

“I’ll risk it,” said Gary.

To Nigel, who was smirking, he said “Business as usual tomorrow, but I’ll need talk to Jessie if they don’t find that candle.”

“If they don’t find the candle?”

“It makes sense to me, Nigel. You’ll see tomorrow!”