03 - Murder in Mink (12 page)

Clara worked on the assumption that asking enough
questions eventually produced a result, unless of course you were interviewing
a suspect, in which case being circumspect was better. But when tracking
something, such as an address, a polite question here or there usually worked
wonders. For instance, while there was a hotel in the village Clara was
convinced Shirley would have stayed in one of the small guest houses dotted
around. And as the summer season was yet to be in full flow, more attention was
paid to the few guests that were around. So it was with a few choice questions
in the post office and grocers, that Clara discovered a woman answering
Shirley’s description had been staying at a tiny boarding house down Oak Street,
run by a Scottish landlady and her husband. The postmistress had in fact been
present when Shirley sent off a postcard to London and had briefly caught sight
of her name.

The boarding house was well-presented, with early pansies
in a window box and a mown lawn, but it was clearly very small. Clara knocked
loudly, wondering if it was getting a bit late in the day. Her watch was
telling her it was close to four. Perhaps the landlady was serving tea? But
when a broad Scottish woman, with her grey hair in a bun, answered the door
with a smile Clara felt she could proceed as planned.

“I do apologise for disturbing you at teatime, but I’ve
come to see Shirley Cox.”

“Disturbing me? Nonsense! This is the time all my guests
arrive, not that I’m expecting any. Do come in, won’t you? I’m afraid Shirley’s
out but I expect she will be back soon.”

The Scottish landlady ushered Clara through to a
surprisingly large kitchen, where a teapot stood on the stove and a homemade
cake adorned the table.

“Sit yourself down. I only have Mr Robins at home today
so you might as well share in the cake. As you can tell I like my little
teatime treats.” The landlady rubbed at her rotund belly, “I’m Mrs Macphinn, by
the way.”

“Clara Fitzgerald.” Clara introduced herself, “I’ve been
trying to find Shirley all day, I’m so glad I tracked her here.”

“She is a friend.” Mrs Macphinn presented the teapot on
the table topped with a stripy knitted tea cosy.

“Actually she is a relation by marriage.”

“Och, I didn’t know she were married?”

“I’m afraid it wasn’t the happiest of situations. A
wartime marriage, you know.”

Mrs Macphinn nodded her head earnestly.

“You hear it all the time. A rash marriage made in the
heat of the moment and it doesn’t last as long as the wedding cake. So why have
you come to find her?”

“I thought maybe I could be helpful, though I’m not
really sure how. But it’s awful being in a mess all alone, isn’t it?”

“Poor thing, yes now you say it she did seem rather
tense. I said to myself there is a lass who has known a lifetime of worry. What
was she doing here?”

“Trying to find the errant husband.”

“Oh, shush, what a thing…” Mrs Macphinn cut at the cake,
jam oozed out thickly from the middle and Clara wondered where the Scottish
lady managed to get all her sugar from, “Cake?”

“Thank you.” Clara accepted a large slice and watched as
Mrs Macphinn devoured hers with mammoth sized bites, “When did she arrive here?”

“She came on the Thursday. Said she wouldn’t be staying
long. I gave her the nice room at the back of the landing, right next to the
bathroom.”

“Do you think she will be back shortly, only I can’t stay
long?”

“Surely, surely. She is always home for dinner. You see I
cook breakfast and dinner for the guests, what with there not being many places
to eat late in the village. Then I can also provide sandwiches for lunchtime if
it’s arrange beforehand. Shirley has been so kind-hearted, she comes in to help
with the dinner, doesn’t have to but insists. And she eats with such relish, I
swear the girl looks half-starved. She says my cooking reminds her of her
mother’s.”

“You run a fine house Mrs Macphinn, I wish I had found
this place before I stopped over elsewhere.”

“Ah, you can move here”

“I paid in advance for three days.” Clara said
regretfully.

“Well now, I never but ask for the first night and expect
my guests to settle the bill at the end of their stay and they always do!”

That, decided Clara, explained how Shirley Cox was able
to afford to stay in the house.

“You are clearly a very considerate woman Mrs Macphinn.”
Clara said with a smile, “I’m glad Shirley pitched up here, she hasn’t had an
easy time of it.”

“No, I could see that.” Mrs Macphinn nodded sagely and
cut herself a second slice of cake, “I wouldn’t call her a happy person. Looked
very sad to me. First night here she hardly spoke, but then I brought her out
of her herself. Between her and Mr Robins we have fine talks over dinner.”

“What sort of things do you talk about? The landlady at
my establishment is rather strict about what can be discussed at dinner.”

“Aye, I reckon I know who it is you are staying with.”
Mrs Macphinn tapped the side of her nose conspiratorially, Clara felt a tad
guilty for whoever she had just slandered, “I don’t mind what the guests talk
of as long as it’s not sordid. I mean you do have to watch out. We have
families stay here and respectable old people. They don’t want to be eating
their liver and tatties listening to someone prattling on about nasty things. I
did have to remind Shirley once to watch her tongue. It was when I mentioned
about the church and she was rather rude about vicars, called them hypocrites.
I said ‘Now Shirley, it’s all fine and good having opinions, but I won’t have
the House of God criticised in this house.’ She was very good about it.”

Distantly a clock chimed the half hour.

“She is rather late today.” Mrs Macphinn glanced out the
kitchen window and then observed how much cake she consumed and felt mildly
abashed.

“Did she say where she was going when you saw her this
morning?” Clara fished for extra information.

“Actually I didn’t see her this morning. She was gone
early. I did check on her room and found the bed all made neat and her trunk
still sitting there. I confess for a moment I thought she might have run out on
me.”

“Oh not Shirley!” Clara lied swiftly.

“I can’t say where she went.” Mrs Macphinn started to
fidget, thinking about the potatoes and carrots she had to get on with and
peel.

Clara took a look at her watch, as if she had not just
heard the chimes.

“I’m afraid I must be getting on. I’m sorry to have bothered
you and to have missed Shirley.”

“Wasn’t a bother at all, do you want to leave a message?”

Clara hesitated. It was difficult to think of leaving a
message for someone you knew was dead.

“Could you mention I dropped in and say I will call
again?”

“I can do that.” Mrs Macphinn started clearing up their
plates, “I reckon she has just got delayed somewhere.”

Clara said her goodbyes and headed out the door. She
walked a few paces then called over a boy who was playing with a pebble in the
street.

“Can you take this message to the police station?”

The boy gave a nod and she pressed a shilling and a
swiftly written note into his hand so he skipped off in haste. As she had
promised Inspector Jennings, she had found the place Shirley had been staying,
now he could collect her trunk and break the news to Mrs Macphinn about what
had happened to her latest guest. It didn’t stop Clara feeling guilty, however,
for leading the poor woman astray. She sometimes wondered at how skilled she
had become in lying since she had been a detective.

Clara sat down next to Tommy in his bedroom. They had
both retreated once more from an unhappy dinner and were settled down to
dessert in Tommy’s quarters. Clara was wondering if all this fine dining would
soon have her letting out the waist of her dress. That didn’t stop her delving
into a hearty portion of gooseberry jelly, strawberries and cream.

“So Eustace pins it on Andrew.” Tommy summed up his
conversation earlier with the Campbell uncle, “Though he doesn’t dismiss any of
the others from being possible candidates.”

“Useful.” Clara said with a groan, “The problem is they
all have a strong motive, but hardly any of them have alibis.”

“Do you ever think that concentrating our efforts on
Andrew, as he seems the most likely murderer, gives the real killer an unfair
advantage to slip the net?”

“I suppose it depends if Andrew did it or not.” Clara
licked cream off her spoon, “What is your opinion of Andrew as a killer?”

“He could have done it, but I just don’t see him being so
rash.”

“I saw him when he reached the body and his shock looked
genuine. Unfortunately trying to talk to him is like drawing blood from a
stone. Perhaps you could try, he might open up better to a man.”

“Andrew is very much a closed book, but I’ll give it a
go.” Tommy put his bowl on the bedside table and leaned back on his bed.

“You’ll be pleased to know Annie should arrive tomorrow.”
Clara added.

Tommy’s eyes twinkled.

“So you’ll be sending her down into the servants’
quarters to get the inside scoop?”

On past cases Annie, the Fitzgeralds’ unconventional
maid, had proved an asset when it came to learning the truth from servant
circles. People all too readily forgot how much servants overheard and saw.

“Annie can help us pin down exactly when everyone was
about. The servants are our best bet for their exact comings and goings.
Servants see all.”

“Well I’ve missed Annie. She is far better company than
that stuffy lot in there.” Tommy gave a derisive snort, “I can’t get my head
around them all. I thought Eustace was the mad one, but I’m beginning to think
he is the sanest one of the lot.”

“Yes, they do have that effect on you. I wonder when the
police will call and take statements?”

“They’re letting them stew.” Tommy stretched his arms
over his head, “The inspector is building up his background knowledge so he can
come in here and strike hard.”

“Still, I would have thought they would have called by
now…”

As Clara spoke the front doorbell rang and echoed about
the house.

“You’ve talked them up again sister.”

“Surely not!” Clara hopped to the door and peeped
outside, she could not see the front hall from here, but she could hear voices
and she recognised Inspector Jennings instructing the butler to summon the
family, “It is them, you know!”

Tommy gave a laugh. Clara left the bedroom and hurried to
the hall where she spotted the inspector standing with a constable.

“Evening Miss Fitzgerald.” Jennings would have tipped his
hat to her had he not already removed it.

“I wondered when you would come!” Clara came forward,
“Are you taking statements?”

“Yes we are. I presume you want to be present?”

Clara studied his face, wondering if he was mocking her.
She relaxed when he seemed genuine.

“Yes, I would appreciate that. I could sit in a corner
and take notes.”

Glorianna emerged a step ahead of the butler who had
fetched her, still dressed in her dinner gown. Her face bore an expression of
perfect horror at the sight of policemen in her house.

“What on earth is all this?” She demanded.

“I have come to take statements from the family.”
Jennings answered politely.

“Could it not have waited until the morning?”

“No, it could not.” Jennings said firmly.

Clara sensed what he was up to, putting the family on the
wrong foot, catching them at a moment when they would be least prepared for
attack. They had had a day to relax, even to come to think the police were not
going to question them at all. Now here was the wily inspector.

“I… I suppose you should take over the drawing room.”
Glorianna pushed open the door to the room and stood there anxiously, “You want
to speak to all of us?”

“Yes, but one at a time. We can start with you if you
like.”

Glorianna’s eyes went wide, then she composed herself.

“Well, yes, let’s get it over with.”

She headed into the drawing room in a daze. Her whole
evening had just been turned upside down. She couldn’t quite fathom why the
police would want to talk to
her
. After all, she was not even Andrew’s
real mother. She had just been there, and yes she had been cross about the
ruined wedding, it had taken a good deal of effort and money to arrange. But it
was not the end of the world, Hogarth’s reputation would survive it. Andrew
might have to be sent away. She had been considering that on and off the whole
day, but otherwise they would survive.

She perched herself awkwardly on a sofa and motioned for
the inspector to sit where he pleased. Clara quietly took a place at the far
side of the room, behind Glorianna and out of sight. She removed a notebook and
pencil from a pocket in her skirt and quietly prepared to take notes.

“What could you possibly want to know from me?” Glorianna
asked, trying to laugh off the matter and failing.

“Could you tell me where you were during the course of
Saturday afternoon, from the time of the wedding?” The inspector began.

Glorianna looked at him as if he were being incredibly
foolish.

“At the reception, of course!”

“You had the reception?”

Glorianna grew a little angry.

“The food was all prepared and paid for, I hate waste
inspector. Perhaps the aristocratic thing to do would have been to have it all
thrown away. But I grew up in a poor family and I know the value of food.
Besides, many of the guests had travelled some distance to be there and I could
not send them home with empty stomachs. It was the only decent thing to do.”

“Who among the immediate family attended the reception?”

“Only myself.” Glorianna stiffened, “Naturally Eustace
was there, anywhere there is food and drink Eustace is bound to be. Everyone
else went home, I assume.”

“You were there the entire time?”

“Yes, where else would I be?”

“Until what time?”

Glorianna frowned.

“We sat down at one, there were no speeches so the meal
proceeded through all the courses without a pause. I suppose it was about four
when we had all finished. But then some of the guests had to wait for trains,
so I hung around until the last of them was gone. I suppose I was home just
after five. My arrival came with quite a procession because I ordered the
remainder of the meal packaged up and brought with me.”

“Did you see anyone on your arrival home?”

For the first time Glorianna had to give a long pause
before she could answer.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure who I saw first. Obviously the
butler, he took my coat. I was avoiding Eustace, Hogarth was in his study. I
think I saw Peg a few minutes after I came in the door. She was in here,
reading. We didn’t speak so I went upstairs to get changed.”

“And you were home all the rest of the night?”

“Yes!”

“Can anyone confirm that?”

“I did not kill that awful woman.” Glorianna rubbed at
her forehead with a thumb and forefinger in a pinching movement, “I saw
everyone at dinner. Afterwards I was in here with Peg and Eustace. Hogarth went
back to his study. It was around eleven when I went to bed. I saw no one after
that until the morning.”

“And what did you make of Shirley Cox?”

“Who?”

“Your stepson’s late wife.”

Glorianna opened her mouth but words failed her.

“Is that for certain?” She finally managed.

“Yes.”

“Well, I… I didn’t like her. She was so common and
vulgar. Walking into that church in red and making such a spectacle. I thought
her an awful creature. But that doesn’t mean I killed her.”

“I appreciate that Mrs Campbell. Perhaps you would be
kind enough to fetch another member of the family for me to chat to?”

Glorianna looked affronted at the sudden dismissal, but
she stood without a word and headed out the door. Within moments, suggesting
she had been waiting in the hall outside, Peg appeared.

“What ho inspector!” She threw herself down on the sofa
Glorianna had just departed, as usual dressed in shirt and trousers with her
hair slicked back.

Inspector Jennings was not easily surprised, still it
took a moment for him to adjust to the appearance of Peg. He had only glimpsed
her on the racetrack and the full manner of her outfit had escaped him. He also
had to reluctantly admit to himself that at Brooklands he had made the error of
thinking her a young man.

“You must be…?”

“Penelope Campbell. Call me Peg.” Peg offered a hand to
be shook. The inspector declined.

“Could you tell me where you were on Saturday after the
wedding?”

“Easy, I was here. I came straight home to get out of
that awful dress Glory insisted I wear. I was here all day after that.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“Well Clara did,” Peg pointed over her shoulder, “She
came in a moment after me.”

The inspector glanced at Clara for confirmation.

“She is correct inspector, I walked in with Tommy and Peg
was in the hall.”

“That’s right,” Continued Peg, “I had got home to find
Susan out of bed and nowhere around and I was having a bit of the collywobbles
about it. Then Susan comes swanning in the French windows with a bunch of wild
flowers. Next moment Clara is home. Then I went and got changed and was rather
aimless for the rest of the afternoon. I just sat in here and read a magazine.”

“And in the evening?” Asked the inspector.

“I had dinner and went to bed. There isn’t much else to
do in this house.”

“And what did you make of the late Shirley Cox, your
brother’s wife?”

Peg’s jolly façade cracked a little.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“She must have made an impression on you, bursting into
the church like that.”

Peg still struggled.

“She was just… a woman. She was a bit tarty and I thought
her shoes rather worn, but I can’t say much else crossed my mind.”

“It did not upset you she had ruined your brother’s
wedding?”

“That was Andrew’s fault! Running off from a wife,
disgraceful. Perhaps if she had been a fraud I would have been angry, but she
was the genuine thing. I was sad for Laura, but gosh, there have been plenty of
women over the last few years who never got the wedding they were expecting.
Look at me, I was engaged and the silly sod goes off and gets killed in
Belgium. I imagine that rather hardened me. Anyway, Andrew is still alive if
Laura wants him.”

“Thank you Miss Campbell, if you could send in someone
else?”

The next person in was Hogarth Campbell, who looked
dyspeptic and cross at the intrusion. A brief thought flittered across Clara’s
mind concerning what Eustace had said about his brother. Could he be violent if
he needed to be? The way he appeared as he entered the drawing room, he
certainly looked like someone who had a temper. It was not the calm, quiet
Hogarth who was usually presented to them.

“Will this take long?” He asked gruffly.

“I doubt it, if you could tell us your whereabouts after
the wedding on Saturday?” The inspector was unfazed by his new suspect’s grumpiness.

“I came straight home, what else could I do? I puttered
for a bit, I wanted to give a piece of my mind to Andrew but he had vanished.
Finally I settled down to work on a history of my family I’ve been busy with.”

“Anyone see you?”

“The maid who brought in my coffee and sandwiches at 3
o’clock, and I saw everyone at dinner, but otherwise no one.” Hogarth was
glaring at the inspector defiantly.

“What were your feelings about your son’s first wife?”

“Plainly? She was a nuisance. I couldn’t understand why
he hadn’t spoken to me about it and we could have sorted something. A quiet
divorce to be rid of her. Instead he bottles it all up. He’s been like that
since the war, he never says a thing about what he is thinking or feeling. It
can drive you to madness all that introspection!”

“Are you suggesting your son could have had something to
do with his first wife’s death?”

“Of course not!” Hogarth bellowed so loudly the room seemed
to echo, “Weren’t you listening? I just said I couldn’t understand why he
didn’t mention it, that’s all. Andrew would no more harm that woman than I.”

Clara felt that was a statement rather open to
interpretation.

“I was going to pay her off, if you need to know. Pay her
off, hush it up, sort out a divorce and then have a quiet marriage between
Andrew and Laura. I was thinking I would pay for them to have an extended
honeymoon and then they could settle in France or even South America. Get away
from all the gossip-mongers here. It would have come right in the end. The girl
winding up dead is just an added nuisance.”

“What if she had refused to be divorced?”

“Her type don’t refuse, not if you wave enough cash at
them. I would have set her up nicely, a little cottage somewhere. She would
never have had to worry again. It’s not as though she loved him, for crying out
loud! She was a gold-digger, simple as that.”

“You never had any hint your son had married?”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

“It is a difficult thing to keep hidden from family.”

“Well he did, and I’ve had enough of this.” Hogarth
thrust himself up from the sofa, “I take it you will want someone else? I
shan’t bother Eustace as he is having one of his bilious attacks and has gone
to bed. Besides, he had no reason to do anything.”