Episode 13 - Catch as catch can

Tuesday cont.

Dorothy was quite relieved to leave the crime world for an hour or two , thought it got later and later as Mr Morgan drove his old-timer at a modest pace along the quiet roads, negotiating even slower farm-vehicles and occasional tail-backs between Swansea in Wales and Upper Grumpsfield somewhere in Oxfordshire. Eventually he was able to park his little black Morris Minor near St Peter’s Parish Church. Mr Morgan was inordinately happy to be back again..

“Nice to see you again, Miss Price.”

“Thank you for coming Mr Morgan. Have you considered our offer?”

The ‘our’ was not strictly true. The vicar knew nothing about it and had no idea that Dorothy was planning to give Mr Morgan the job if he wanted it and had no other candidate for the job.

“Yes, Miss Price, and I’ll take it.”

“I am glad. You are such a good organist, Mr Morgan.”

“Where can I live?”

“I’ve solved that problem, at least till you find a suitable flat. Delilah Browne will let you lodge in one of the guest rooms at the pub.”

“Can I afford it?”

“Of course you can. You’ll have plenty of money to spare, Mr Morgan. You can lodge at my cottage for a week or two first because Mitch – that’s Delilah’s boyfriend – is going to renovate the room for you.”

“So I won’t have to do that myself?”

“No. You can save your hands for your organ playing.”

“I don’t know how to thank you, Miss Price. It’s been hell with my mother. She’s a bossy  fusspot and she doesn’t like my jeans.”

“We all get like that as we get older, Mr Morgan, though personally I think the jeans look good.”

“Thank you. When can I start?”

“When can you come?”

“I’ll have to go back to Wales for my clothes and music scores.”

“Can you be here for the service next Sunday?” Dorothy asked him. “You could come secretly on Saturday and then surprise everyone.”

“I’d like that, Miss Price.”

“You can park your car in front of my cottage and you can play my piano if you want to.”

“It sounds like paradise! Can I just have a little tinkle on the organ now?”

“Better not, Mr Morgan. Edith might hear you and come over. That would spoil our surprise. I hope she hasn’t seen your car.”

“She can’t have. She would have come over if she had.”

“Or she is too shy, Mr Morgan.”

“You’re right. But I’ll get going now. I don’t really like driving in the dark. Thank you again.”

Mr Morgan opened his music satchel and took out a tiny box of chocolates.

“These are for you, Miss Price. I hope you’ll enjoy them.”

“I’m sure I will. Thank you for coming to the rescue.”

"Rescue?"

"I mean taking the job, Mr Morgan!"

"Don't mention it, Miss Price."

***

Mr Morgan, himself overcome by his own generosity, backed his car precariously down the church drive, revved up as if he were driving a Ferrari, and bowled down the road. He had the hole drive back to Wales to consider how he was going to break the news to his mother. There would be another tearful scene and she would wail bitterly that he was leaving her. But he was coming back to his beloved old organ at St Peter’s. They would stump up the cash to renovate the instrument and best of all he would be near Edith – or was it her twin sister Clare he had last been partial to?

***

Dorothy waited to see if Mr Morgan’s wayward driving brought Edith on the scene, but it didn’t. After due consideration, Dorothy decided to go home and rest before the dinner party at Cleo’s. She was highly delighted that the little Welsh organist was willing to return to St Peter’s, but not ready to break the news to Frederick Parsnip, who was probably in his study sharpening his beloved pencils again. He had not exactly said that she was to find an organist, but he hadn’t told her not to, either. Dorothy was glad of a bit of sanity in a life that now seemed to be cluttered up with crime.

***

All the dinner guests arrived punctually for seven. Robert had cooked dinner and Cleo had tidied up and laid the table. On the way from the shop Gloria had been to the off-licence, as instructed by Robert, and arrived bearing a couple of bottles of sturdy Catalonian red wine. Dorothy arrived bearing an apple strudel she said she had merely ‘knocked up’, and finally Chris arrived with Jenny Smith.

Robert was quite surprised to see Chris with Jenny. Hadn’t Cleo said that Chris preferred men? At least Gary hadn’t got a look-in there.

The meal took till nine o’clock. They were just about to have coffee when the doorbell rang.

“It could be Jessie,” said Cleo. “Otherwise I can’t think of anyone who would call at this time in the evening.”

“ I hope she isn’t in a state,” said Dorothy.

“Whatever state she’s in, we’ll have to leave soon. Are you coming with us, Jenny?”

“Yes please.”

“Chris?”

“I go where the lady goes.”

“And I’ll go to the front door,” said Robert. “Whoever it is, you can’t leave them on the doorstep for ever.”

***

It was Gary.

“Come in,” said Robert. “What brings you here so late?”

“I’ve come to apologise,” said Gary.

“What for?” said Robert, and Cleo hoped that Gary would not say that she had been to Middlethumpton.

“I want to tell Cleo personally that she was right to tell me off like she did,” said Gary.

 Cleo was justifiably relieved that Gary was not going to say anything incriminating, but since he was not to know that she had organised the nightly outing to the crypt, she wished he had phoned instead.

Gary handed Cleo the biggest bunch of red roses she had seen since her wedding day, when the red roses had also been from him.. Everyone else observed the situation without making any comments.

“I’m glad to have witnesses to what I want to say,” he said.

“Don’t bother, Gary. I think I know already, and I’m sorry I laid into you like I did.”

“But I need to say it, Cleo,” he said.

“Go on then. Get it over with,” said Robert. Who had every intention of listening.

“I am a skunk,” he said. “I never really cared about Sybil and I would never have married her.”

“You were married to her, Gary?” said Robert. Had Cleo known that?

“No, Robert. I only said that I could not marry anyone I did not care for.”

“Would she have married you, Gary?” Dorothy wanted to know.

“Yes. She even asked me once, but I said no. I told her I am already married.”

“Which you are,” said Robert.

“Estranged, Robert.”

“But Married. Did you know all along about Sybil’s antics?” Robert asked.

“I found the clothes she wore for her outings – the ones hidden behind my wardrobe that I was not meant to know about. Then I knew she was back in prostitution and there was nothing I could do about it. I didn’t want to see her murdered, Robert. She was a beautiful woman and did not deserve that fate.”

“So you are sad, after all,” said Cleo.

“Not so much sad as shocked.”

“Do you know who killed her?”  Robert asked.

“Two of my team questioned everyone who might have done it. No one was allowed to leave until we were satisfied with the results of our interviews. We found a suspect and he is in an arrest cell awaiting charges. Chris will have results soon, won’t you?” said Gary.

”I’m doing my best, Gary. I took time off to have a square meal. It’s a pity we can’t stay longer, Cleo.”

“And I’ve got to go home now,” said Dorothy. “Cleo, you promised to watch that movie with me.”

“I was not going to stay longer than it took to say what I did,” said Gary.

“I’ll show you out then,” said Robert.

Gary stretched out a hand to Cleo.

“No hard feelings then?”

“Fewer,” said Cleo. “Let’s talk tomorrow.”

They all breathed a sigh of relief when Gary had gone. He had not suspected anything, they thought.

***

Greg was waiting at Dorothy’s cottage after rather a gruelling evening questioning someone who had set fire to his house in the hope that his wife and children would not get out in time, but had. Being told it was only attempted murder was not comforting. He had intended to get away with destroying his house and family and then claiming the insurance and starting a new life somewhere warm. Greg was far from sure that it was a good idea to go to Monkton Priory in a group.

“I want to make a suggestion,” he said as they were all gathered in Dorothy’s porch.

“We’d be thankful for any good idea,” said Cleo.

“I want to go with Chris on our own.”

There was silence while the ladies thought about it.

“Why, Greg?”

“Because five people can’t possibly go unnoticed. If we are to catch Coppins, it will be off guard, and he’ll hardly be that if five people are tracking him down. That’s why it’s always so difficult to catch people who don’t want to be caught.”

“You’ve got a point there,” said Dorothy.

“The thing is that if he is just hovering somewhere near the building he’ll see anyone who approaches it, however quiet they are, and if he’s in the crypt, it won’t take all of us to overpower him, will it?”

“No, Greg. You’re right,” said Cleo. “I’ve been having second thoughts, too. Maybe I should have told Gary about it.”

“I don’t see why,” said Greg. “I can deal with anything he could deal with.”

“Don’t go off the deep end, Greg,” said Chris. “Your argument is a good one.”

“In other words, my idea wasn’t thought through,” said Cleo. Her shortcomings as a strategist were obvious. 

“Now don’t you go off the deep end, Cleo,” said Dorothy. “Greg is right.”

“I think we’ll have more chance of catching him if he does not see us first.”

“So we will stay here while you go up to the Priory and see if Coppins is there,” said Dorothy.

“Yes,” said Greg.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” said Cleo. “You’re right. Five of us are too many.”

“We’ll keep our fingers crossed,” added Jenny, who had been doubtful about Cleo’s plan and was also quite happy not to be going to such a creepy place in the dark.

***

To the encouraging applause of the three ladies, Greg and Chris set off for the Priory. Much to Cleo’s relief, Gary had not cottoned on to what was really happening and had not waited somewhere near, observing the little group with the intention of joining them – or stopping them. That is what Cleo thought. Dorothy was doubtful, but said nothing.

Gary had cottoned on and was about to show Cleo that he was not indifferent to the crime series in Upper Grumpsfield. Quite without any ulterior motive he had consulted the patrol cops’ register before going off duty and seen that Greg had entered a patrol to the Priory right at the end of the list. Gary presumed, rightly, that Greg did not expect Gary to look at the list until the following morning. Patrol requests came from all directions at HQ, not to mention the routine patrols all cars went on when nothing particular was at stake.

Gary would not have bothered to look at the list to be worked through when he was off duty except that he wanted to know if the Majestic was under any kind of surveillance from the Vice Squad. Letting hookers into hotel rooms with guests was highly undesirable anywhere, but especially at such a respectable venue. The patrol cops’ argument was that you couldn’t always tell a hooker by looking at her.

Gary had to agree that Sybil alias Moira’s life might have been saved if she had been spotted in time. The reception at the hotel would also have something to answer for, since Moira had been dressed conspicuously and certainly unlike any of the female hotel guests, who seemed to prefer knitted twinsets, pearls and tweed skirts. The Majestic Hotel was old-fashioned, with antiquated design and fittings, and not at all the kind of place where immoral persons went in and out – at least, that was the impression the hotel management took pains to give. In fact, reception claimed that no one unfamiliar or over-familiar ever got past them.

But Gary remembered that Sybil had often borrowed a raincoat hanging in the little hall of his apartment. As Moira, she might have covered herself up in one to escape notice by the neighbours.  He cursed himself for not thinking of that sooner.

***

“Look out for the toy-boys as well,” Gary had told the wide-eyed girl who happened to be on reception when he left the hotel that lunchtime. Every patrol cop knew that finding one of those male  birds of paradise on the streets was even more unlikely, one reason being that women who hired toy-boys did not usually have a male partner, so they invited them into their homes. You could hope that drugs would be in play and cause some kind of fracas, but that would be a job for the drugs department, and they usually looked elsewhere for their dealers or addicts rather than in ladies’ boudoirs.

***

Thinking about Sybil’s fate had made Gary bitterly aware that he had taken his relationship with her too lightly. He had not understood her or even liked her very much. She was decorative and a good small-talker. She wore normal clothes and her natural blonde, wavy hair flowed innocently round her face and neck. She was, in short, decorative. Now, in the light of what he had discovered, Gary felt he had more or less driven her back into prostitution and using the name she had called herself playfully as a child pretending to have a twin, and subconsciously when she was a prostitute. But now she was dead, and an affluent, ‘respectable’ businessman looking for amusement of a particular kind had been detained and was awaiting a homicide charge.

Knowing that Greg was about to embark on some scheme or other and seeing Chris at Cleo’s cottage had convinced Gary that something was afoot. Cleo had given absolutely no indication that the evening was more than a dinner date, but now he had an idea as to why he had not been invited. After his apology to her, which transpired to be fortunate timing for Gary, he had driven off, parked his car where it could not be seen from Monkton Way, and was waiting to see what would happen.

***

After Chris and Greg had set off on foot for the Priory leaving Cleo, Jenny and Dorothy to go into Dorothy’s cottage to wait for the conquering heroes to return with their capture, Gary drove towards the Priory and parked in a concealed layby, and followed the two sleuths unobserved. They were so intent on their mission that they did not look round.

Gary guessed what his colleagues were up to. He hid behind some trees to see what would happen next. He did not want to spoil their venture by making himself noticeable, and was now certain that Cleo had had more than one finger in the making of this pie.

But Gary was not the only one hiding in the bushes. Someone was watching him, he noticed. Gary’s experience now came to his aid. Moving slowly away from whoever it was, he managed move unnoticed through the bushes to behind him. With a sudden lunge he grabbed the man and said

“I’m arresting you for stalking, Mr Coppins.”

“What the bloody hell is this?” The man shouted, and Gary knew where Jessie had learnt her expletives. He was also relieved that he had identified the man more on instinct than anything else.

The noise of the tussle between Gary and Coppins caused Chris and Greg to turn round and start hurrying towards it.

“How do you know who I am?”

“So you are Coppins, are you?”

“What if I am? I ain’t done nothing wrong.”

“You have. You’ve been stalking me.”

“Give me a break. I wasn’t stalking. I was hiding.”

“What were you hiding from?”

“That’s none of your business, Cop.”

“Of course it’s my business. I can’t have people stalking innocent walkers.”

“You ain’t innocent. I know a cop when I see one.”

“Greg! Chris! Look what I’ve got,” shouted Gary to the two men who were now only a few yards away.

“How did you....? Greg started.

“You shouldn’t have entered your adventure into the duty rota, Greg.”

Greg did not like criticism. He also felt guilty. He had overstepped his line of duty by doing something unsolicited, even if it was in a good cause.

“It got you moving though, didn’t it, Sir?” he retorted. Attack was the better defence.

“Come on, Gary. Admit that it was a good idea,” said Chris.

“One of Cleo’s hair-brained schemes, no doubt,” said Gary.

“But it worked, didn’t it?” said Chris.

“Only because I was here,” said Gary. “Coppins had already spotted you and would have made sure you didn’t spot him.”

“So what now, sir?” said Greg, abashed by Gary’s very presence and put out by the fact that they had been caught in the act. Gary decided to be merciful. He had enough to answer for without alienating Greg and Chris.

“Got your handcuffs with you, Greg? I see you are in mufti.”

“Yes, Sir. Cleo asked me to bring them.”

“Well, get them round this guy’s wrists and push him down the hill to your car.”

“Yes Sir.”

“We’ll follow, won’t we Chris?”

“Yes, of course.”

***

Chris was disappointed that the mission had ended this way because he would have liked Greg to make the arrest. Greg thought the same, but was shrewd enough not to make any further comment.

What Cleo would say when they arrived at Dorothy’s cottage was a matter of serious reflection at the moment. She would certainly be glad Coppins had been caught, but not necessarily by Gary. And his reaction to her for leaving him out of the plan was also a matter for serious consideration.

Hearing Greg’s car door slamming brought the three ladies to the parlour window and then hastily to the door.

“What’s happened,” Jenny asked Chris.

“What are you doing here already?” said Cleo.

“Coppins has been arrested,” said Greg.

“By me,” added Gary.

“But you went home!” said Dorothy.

“That’s what you thought I did, Ladies,” said Gary triumphantly. “Assumptions can be off the mark.”

“So you knew all the time,” said Cleo, disappointed and yet rather amazed at Gary’s initiative.

“Not all the time, Cleo, but Greg had entered his little outing in the patrol register and I just happened to see it.”

“Happened to?”

“I looked in the duty register to see what was happening at the Majestic Hotel.”

“So you came across Greg’s entry by accident and put two and two together,” said Cleo.

“That’s how it was. I’m sorry I found him before you did, Greg.”

“The main thing is that we got him in the end,” said Greg, magnanimously.

“And without you things would have been more difficult, so you will join me in the report as having arrested the man.”

“I will?”

“Of course. I want to reward initiative, Greg, not ignore it.”

“That’s great,” said Cleo. “Thanks for not being mad at us.”

“I am mad at you, Cleo, make no mistake. Such strategies as the one you thought up can end fatally.”

“That’s why I asked Greg,” said Cleo.

“And he was the right guy, for whom you have Chris to thank, I take it.”

Leave me out of this! I didn’t know about the plan until tonight,” said Chris in his own defence.

“I’m glad you were around, Chris,” said Gary. “Otherwise one of the ladies would have trekked up the hill with Greg. Do you have any idea how dangerous that could have been, Ladies?”

“Coppins isn’t armed, Sir,” said Greg. “I searched him thoroughly.”

“You didn’t know that beforehand,” said Gary.

“I was armed,” said Dorothy. “I would have shot if I had had to.”

“But Coppins was not armed, Dorothy,” emphasized Greg.

“If he had come anywhere near one of us, I would have shot him in the leg,” said Dorothy. That’s legal. It’s self-defence.”

“Perhaps he doesn’t even possess a gun, Gary. He looks as if he’s the type for close combat,” said Cleo.

“I’ll take him to HQ,” said Greg. “Any special instructions?”

“He can spend the night in an arrest cell, Greg. He’ll appreciate having more comfort there than in that crypt or under the stars.”

“I’ll go with you, Greg. Jenny will drive our car home, won’t you?”

“Of course, Chris.”

***

Greg departed for Middlethumpton HQ. He was not in a patrol car, so Chris sat in the back with Coppins. The kiddies’ safety locks were put on both rear doors. Coppins did not make a fuss.

“Come in for a coffee, Gary! You’ve definitely earned it,” said Dorothy. “Go into the parlour. I’ll bring the coffee on a tray.”

Dorothy wanted to leave Gary and Cleo alone for a moment.

***

Gary had learnt something he needed to know. Cleo was prepared to go it alone. He was conscious of his slackness in dealing with the Upper Grumpsfield crimes. When a private detective has to do the work the police should have been doing it is humiliating for the cop in charge, and he was in charge of the homicide squad. He should have paid more attention to Cleo’s appeals to him to find the Coppins guy urgently. Those appeals had preceded Tom Crowe’s murder. Was Coppins involved in that, too? Tom Crowe would have recognized him from the photo on Mrs Coppins’ mantelpiece. Everything he knew about Crowe derived from Cleo’s work. He had not reacted and was ashamed. His only saving grace was his ability to bounce back, he mused.

***

“I want you to know that although I can’t sanction such dangerous exploits as the one tonight, I do respect your decision to go ahead without me, Cleo, and I will try to do better in future.”

“Thanks, Gary.  The action was not really a criticism of your methods. I know that today was a nightmare.”

“Not all of it,” said Gary. “In fact, a guardian angel came to me this afternoon.”

“She did?”

They heard Dorothy bearing down with the coffee.

“You must come to HQ and hear what Coppins has to say,” said Gary.

“What time should I be there?”

“For ten.  Can you manage that?”

“Sure.”

“I want you to do most of the questioning, Cleo. You are better informed than I am.”

“Can you can do something for me, Gary?”

“If I can. What?”

“We need to talk to Polly Spencer, the girl Coppins ran away with.”

“Maybe Coppins will tell us where she is,” said Gary.

“Let’s hope he does, but my best bet is her family in Huddlecourt Minor since she ran away from him and he’s in custody here. Maybe he was looking for her.”

“After the Coppins questioning we can get on with that angle, Cleo, if you want me in on it, that is.”

“I wouldn’t have told you about her yet, otherwise.”

***

And that was the basic problem between official investigators and unofficial ones. The parties could only succeed hand in hand. The police depended on public witnesses and any information from any source. A private agent had plenty of scope, but no authority.

They were both silent for some time. Dorothy went back into the kitchen muttering something about fetching tomorrow’s cake to improve blood sugar levels.

 “I do love you, Gary,” Cleo. “That will never change. I’m really sorry I said such awful things. It hurt me as much as it hurt you.”

“I thought we were over that, Cleo. You were right to talk to me like that. I did not realize how hard it must have been to stand by and watch me amusing myself with other women. But I assure you it wasn’t amusing and I never felt any genuine affection for any of them.”

“Not even Julie?”

“Certainly not Julie.”

“Dorothy is going to cover for me when we meet in future.“

“So she’s now a convert,” said Gary.

“She’s a romantic, Gary.”

“So am I.”

***

Dorothy was delighted that Cleo and Gary were clearly back in tune with one another. She wondered how Robert would react, considering that he believed that Cleo had broken with Gary. She would not mention to Robert that Cleo and Gary were now more than ever determined to be together. Even Robert must realize that the Hartley Agency had come into being as a result of cooperation with HQ, and Gary in particular. Letting Cleo go her own way was the only way forward for the agency and the only solution that would end the emotional turmoil besetting all three of them.

***

Gary told Cleo and Dorothy that it was probably the longest day he had ever lived through. Catching Coppins was a reward for the terrible end that had befallen Sybil, but what was he going to do about Anna? Who would tell the child that her mother was never coming back to see her again – and this time, never really meant never.

Cleo was tempted to tell Gary that the vicar’s marriage was going through a difficult time and unlikely to be improved by the presence of a little girl mourning for her mother. To add to Edith’s despair, the vicar had refused to adopt the child. Gary wanted to tell Cleo that she should apply to the authorities for custody of the child, but something held him back. He knew that there would be little chance of his ever extricating Cleo from her marriage if she swore eternal allegiance with Robert  because of Anna. Was it egoistic of him to want to prevent something that Cleo wanted above all, or was his love for Cleo strong enough for him to let her go if adopting Anna meant so much to her?

***

Dorothy sensed what Gary was thinking. She looked at him astutely and asked him if they could have that little chat he’d promised her.

“Tomorrow afternoon, Dorothy, but only if your currant bread has not all been eaten up.”

“Fine,” she said. “Will three o’clock suit you?”

“I should think so. I doubt if the interview with Coppins will take more than about an hour.”

“What are you two scheming?” asked Cleo.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” said Dorothy.

“OK. OK. I can mind my own business when I have to.”

Cleo went home round about midnight thinking that if Dorothy had been forty years younger, she and Gary would have been a perfect match. But what was all that fuss about age, anyway? Old men shacked up with girls barely out of their teens and people did not find it odd, except that they suspected the young women of wanting careers as rich, carefree widows. But Dorothy was not interested in having a relationship with anyone, let alone with a man who could even be her grandson. Cleo wondered if Ali had had any luck tracing that old flame of Dorothy’s. She would find out next day.

***

Robert had waited up for Cleo. Thinking she would be out for most of the night after reading her missile, he had dragged his duvet to the sofa and gone to sleep fully dressed.

“We got him,” said Cleo.

Robert struggled to open his eyes.

“Got who?”

“Coppins.”

“Did you? Congratulations!” yawned Robert. “Did you go down into the crypt?”

“No. Gary arrested him stalking among the bushes.”

“Gary?”

Now, Robert was wide awake.

“He’d guessed what was happening.”

“Sly old bastard!”

“To be honest, ambushing the crypt was a stupid plan.”

“But it did the trick, didn’t it?”

“Greg and Chris didn’t even get to the top of the hill.”

“I’m honest. It doesn’t matter who caught the guy, Cleo, and Gary needs some success in his life.”

Cleo felt neglected for a moment. The men were sticking together as usual and the girls left behind.

***

Robert unwound himself and stretched out of the curled position he needed to be in to lie on the sofa without his feet hanging over the side.

“You’ve been asleep,” said Cleo. “I’ll make some espresso.”

“Make some for me, too, Cleo.”

“Have I ever not included you, Robert?” Cleo retorted.

The atmosphere was frigid. Cleo thought it might be her fault.

“So where’s that big-hearted woman I married?”

“Inside the resentful one after my plan had been declared catastrophic.”

“Your success is in showing Gary how to go about detection, Cleo.”

“All I need to do now is catch one or two more murderers. Then everything will be hunky-dory.”

“Isn’t one of them Coppins?”

“That has yet to be proved. I’m going to let Gary paddle around a bit with his third degree and then I’m going to step in and ask the right questions.”

“That sounds more like my Cleo,” said Robert, and Cleo winced inwardly at the possessiveness of those words.

“I suppose you are still mine, aren’t you?” Robert continued.

“I married you, Robert. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?”

Cleo went into the kitchen and Robert followed her. Robert made the espresso and Cleo  found some chocolate biscuits and wandered back into the living-room, kicked off her shoes, wrapped herself in Robert’s duvet and curled up on the sofa to feat herself on forbidden calories..

“The main thing is that you come home without falling victim to your scatty ideas,” Robert said, returning with the espressos.

“My ideas are not scatty,” said Cleo sleepily. “Go to bed, Robert!”

“Not without my duvet.”

“Take mine,” said Cleo.

So he did.