Episode15 - Nailing Coppins

Wdnesday afternoon

Mrs Baines had not been forewarned of a visit, so Cleo and Dorothy  waited one the doorstep for quite some time after banging the brass gargoyle that served as a door knocker.

“I wasn’t expecting you, Miss Hartley. And Dorothy. Nice to see you. Come in.”

“This is not a social call, Mrs Baines,” said Cleo.

“Do you want to speak to Jessie?”

“Is she here?”

“Yes, but she’s not her usual self. She seems distressed about something, but she won’t say what.”

“I’ll ask her,” said Dorothy.

The three women went into the kitchen, greeted Ali, who was prepared lunch for the next day after Robert had delivered excellent beef slices to make rissoles before going off to an afternoon of yet more table tennis somewhere, and extracted Jessie from a pile of washing up that could not find room in the dish washer.”

“Don’t be long, Ladies,” said Ali. “I’m late already and still have to show Jessie how to make the salad sauce for tomorrow.”

“The girl looked at Ali sullenly, resentment written all over her face.”

“I’ll deal with that,” said Dorothy. “Just a Vinaigrette , I expect.”

“French with honey and mustard.”

“I’m an old hand in the kitchen Ali. Run along. I’m sure you need preparation time at the Inn.”

Ali departed quickly through the kitchen door.

“Now we can have our little chat, Jessie,” said Dorothy.

Mrs Baines nodded and went out of the kitchen. She had plenty to do without listening to any more of Jessie’s snivelled replies. Cleo finished drying the pots that were on the draining board.

“Why are you upset, Jessie,” Dorothy started.

“I’m not bloody upset,” sniffed Jessie.

“Is it because your father was not in the crypt last night?” Cleo asked.

“’ow do you know?”

“Because I know where he was and you dropped a sock when you took his things away.”

“I don’t bloody believe you.”

“You bloody well should,” shouted Dorothy out of the blue, startling Jessie and Cleo.

“Are the things you collected upstairs in your bedroom at home?” Cleo asked, coming forward.

“They might be.”

“Where do you think your father is now?”

“Where was ‘e yesterday is what I want to know.”

“In Monkton Wood. He was arrested there.”

“What?”

Jessie seemed to shrink in stature. She sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, covered her face with her hands for a moment, and then looked up again. She was smiling. That was not quite the immediate reaction expected by the two sleuths.

“I expect you are relieved, aren’t you, Jessie?”

“Yes, Miss Price. I’m glad.”

Dorothy continued with the questioning while Cleo put the pots away for which she could find a home.

“He was putting pressure on you, wasn’t he?” Dorothy said.

Jessie nodded.

“Was it because of the ransom note Miss Hartley found stuck in her front door?”

Jessie nodded again.

“Did he make you write it?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Why?”

The girl suddenly realised she was being questioned rather than comforted.

“Dunno,” she said.

Cleo came back to where the girl was sitting and crouched so that she was on eye-level with her.

“Did you see something you should not have seen, Jessie?”

Jessie bit her lip.

“Did you see your father doing something to Tom Crowe or to Mrs Oldfield?”

“Dunno.”

“You must know something, girl!” said Dorothy, who was getting annoyed with the girl’s tactics.

Silence.

Cleo thought they were forcing Jessie to close up like a clam. What was it Molly had said? That the Coppins family members were as thick as thieves? But there were still angles that might prove useful for getting Jessie to talk.

“Where did you get the woodcarving knife, Jessie?” Cleo asked.

“What knife?”

“The knife we found next to Tom’s body.”

“It not mine and I ‘aven’t bloody got it. It’s my brother’s. ‘e does woodcarving.”

“Which brother?”

“Jack.”

“How do you know it was his, Jessie?”

Jessie raised her voice to a scream.

“Because I bloody saw it, didn’t I?”

“Where did you see it?”

“Next to...”

“Next to Tom Crowe’s body?”

“Not quite,” the girl said meekly.

“Had someone picked it up, Jessie? Your father, for instance.”

“Dunno.”

***

Since Jessie tended to say ‘dunno’ instead of yes, Cleo thought it likely that Mr Coppins had had the knife in his hand, which explained the fingerprint and could mean that that he had pulled out of Crowe’s body. That in turn could have been a reflex after stabbing him. It is possible that Jessie didn’t see two stabbing movements, but she must have assumes that was what had happened. In that case, why had Coppins dropped the knife?

***

“I didn’t kill Tom, ‘onest.”

“I never said you did, Jessie,” said Cleo, getting up. “Did you go to see if Tom was on the Common?”

“Yes.”

“But he was dead when you got to where you usually met up with him, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, Miss. When he was there we went into the woods for a bit of ….”

“… sex, Jessie?” Dorothy finished for her.

“It was his idea, Miss,” said Jessie. “He told me he had a few things to try out and I’d enjoy myself.”

***

Cleo was appalled at how simple-minded the girl was when it came to her relationships with men.

***

“Who killed Tom, Jessie?” Cleo asked.

“Did your father come between men fighting, Jessie?” asked Dorothy.

“Who were they?” Cleo asked.

“Tom and Jack,” said Jessie. “’ow did you know my dad got between them?”

“I guessed. Is that why he made you write that note?” said Cleo.

“Yes.”

“Did your father grab the knife from Tom?”

“Yes.”

“Tom must have taken the knife from Jack if it was his,” said Dorothy. “What was Jack doing with a knife on the common, Jessie?”

“Sometimes he gets wood to carve and has to take the bark off. I’ve seen him do it, Miss. It saves making a mess at home.”

“That sounds logical,” said Cleo.

They would have to look around for bits of bark, assuming that Jack had taken the wood home..

“Did Jack think he was rescuing you from Tom, Jessie?” said Cleo.

“Jack didn’t know I was going to have sex with Tom,” the girl said. “My Mum would have been surprised that I can get off with any man I want to.”

“And then your father came on the scene, did he?” said Dorothy.

“Interfering old bastard.”

“I think your father was probably trying to protect Jack from Tom,” said Dorothy.

“But Jack had the knife,” said Jessie.

“And your father took it off him to prevent an accident, Jessie,” sad Dorothy.t

“Let’s get the story right, Jessie. Jack threatened Tom and Tom had threatened Jack. Then your father stepped in to stop them from fighting, they struggled and he stabbed Tom by accident,” said Cleo, who thought that could have been what happened.

“Jack was defending me, but in the end he spoilt my fun,” said Jessie.

***

It was still far from certain that Coppins killed Crowe accidentally. What if he did it to stop Tom Crowe talking? What if Jack had already stabbed Tom and Mr Coppins merely finished off the job?

***

"Your father wanted money from Miss Hartley so that he could escape by leaving the country, didn’t he?” said Dorothy.

“Yes Miss.”

“So that’s why you had to write the ransom note,” said Dorothy.

"Yes, Miss. What will happen to my Dad?"

"I don't know, Jessie. He’s in prison. With your help we’ll keep him there," said Cleo.

"Then 'e won't come back home, will 'e?"

"I shouldn't think so. Why is that so important?" said Dorothy.

"I don't want 'im doing to my sisters what 'e did to me."

"You must tell us about that, Jessie."

"Now?"

"No. Another time."

***

There was no hurry to question the girl about her father's unspeakable treatment. In fact, it would be better if she talked where Gary could hear her so that she would not have to repeat it all for him. The questioning was over for the time being even though Mrs Oldfield’s death had not been queried. Jessie’s answers had been consistent concerning her father and Tom Crowe. Cleo left alone via the kitchen door. She was sure that Dorothy would not tell Mrs Baines what the chat with Jessie had been about.

“I’ll wait for you in the car, Dorothy,” Cleo said. “I have reports to read on my tablet.”

“I’ll stay for the salad sauce, Jessie,” said Dorothy.

Jessie dried her eyes on her apron and went to the sink to wash the lettuce for the salad.

“You can write down what I put in the salad and then you can make it next time,” said Dorothy.

“Thank you, Miss.”

***

After leaving the school, Cleo and Dorothy went to the Coppins’ house intending to wait in the car until the brothers got in from work a few minutes later. But Mrs Coppins saw them waiting. Although she was not pleased to see the sleuths, she asked them in and then asked them what they wanted.

“How old is Jack, Mrs Coppins?” Dorothy asked.

“Twenty-four, but what’s it to you?”

“And the other boy?”

“Mick came a year later.”

“So they are both older than Jessie,” said Cleo.

“Yes. I had three on the trot,” said Mrs Coppins.

“Do those three kids all have the same father, Mrs Coppins?”

“Mind your own business.”

“There’s a rumour going round that Jessie’s father is not Joseph Coppins.”

“Don’t listen to rumours,” said the woman.

“Even if your husband spreads them around, Mrs Coppins?” Cleo taunted.

The woman froze.

“He hasn’t come back, has he?”

“He’s back.”

“Where is he? I don’t want him here.”

“No chance of that,” said Cleo. “He’s in an arrest cell at the police station in Middlethumpton, Mrs Coppins.”

“That’s where he belongs,” she said. “Not that he can ever make up for what he did to us.”

“He won’t get a second chance with you, will he?” said Dorothy.

“Over my dead body.”

At that moment, Jack came in from work. He heard his mother’s words and came storming into the living-room. When he saw Cleo and Dorothy he stopped short.

 “We are investigating the death of Tom Crowe,” said Cleo in explanation of their presence.

“Oh, you are, are you? Get out of here before I kick you out.”

“Hold your horses, young man,” said Dorothy. “We know a hell of a lot about Tom Crowe’s death and we’re hoping you can tell us more.”

Jack flopped down on a chair.

“I didn’t kill him, honestly.”

“Tell us what really happened, Jack!” said Cleo.

“Who are you?”

“Private detectives, Jack, and we want you help you,” said Cleo.

“Can I trust you?”

“Yes.”

Jack told them the same story as Jessie’s, except that he told them he had gone to find Tom because Tom had been ‘having it off’ with his mother.

“That’s not true,” Mrs Coppins said, but without conviction.

“That’s what they told me at the pub,” Jack said. “They said Tom had been there and told them all you were a slut.”

“So you wanted to challenge Tom about that?”

“I can’t have my family dragged through the mud,” said Jack. “Since my father left, things have been peaceful here. Nobody has bothered us. No one has thrashed us with a leather belt. And no one has raped my sisters.”

“Good God, Jack, did you have tell these women all that?”

“They need to know what a bastard my father is.”

“So you went to where you know Jessie usually meets up with Tom, did you?”

“Yes, Miss Hartley!”

“Why did you take a knife, Jack?” Cleo asked.

“To get the bark off a lump of wood, Miss, but I never got round to that.”

“Do you know my name, Jack?”

“Everyone knows you are Miss Hartley. You’re friendly with a cop, aren’t you?”

“It’s only a business arrangement.”

“That’s what my mother calls it when she goes to bed with men,” said Jack. He was plainly disgusted with his mother’s goings-on.

Cleo thought being straight might help the cause.

“Well, Jack, I don’t have a business arrangement with a cop, “she told Jack. “I have a relationship with a very nice man.”

“Sorry, Miss Hartley, but I’m ashamed of having a mother who goes to bed with anything in trousers.”

“But it’s a living,” said his mother, defending herself. “And it puts the steak on your plate, Jack, which is more than can be said than what your father provides.”

“Firstly, I’m 23. I can buy my own bread and contribute enough to this household, and secondly, my father – if he is my father - ran off with a schoolgirl and provided her with a kid.”

“He’s here somewhere, Jack,” said Mrs Coppins.

“I know he’s here somewhere. Listen, Ma, he won’t beat me up again. He won’t hurt anyone again.”

“You mean, after he stabbed Tom Crowe, don’t you, Jack?” said Dorothy.

“He’ll say I did it. He’ll say anything to save his own skin.”

“But I think Jessie saw exactly what happened.”

“Has she told you?”

“Not in so many words, but after you had run off and he had killed Tom, he made off with Jessie because she had seen what happened. He forced her to write a ransom note to me,” said Cleo.

“What was Jessie doing on the common, Miss Hartley?”

“She had a date with Tom, Jack.”

“Don’t make me laugh, Miss Hartley. He wouldn’t touch her with a bargepole,” said Mrs Coppins.

“That’s where you are wrong, Mrs Coppins. Tom Crowe was going to try out some of his amorous techniques on Jessie,” said Cleo.

“That’s disgusting,” said Jack.

“It is, isn’t it?” said Dorothy.

“I can’t believe Mr Coppins would kill someone in front of Jessie,” said Mrs Coppins, anxious to get off the subject of her daughter’s promiscuity.

“Are you sure you didn’t injure Tom,” Cleo asked Jack.

“I might have when I struggled with him for the knife he had wrenched out of my hand,” said Jack, who no longer knew just what Jessie could have seen. He hadn’t even seen her coming. “I swear that Tom was alive and when I left him, Miss Hartley.”

“You father’s attempt to save himself by blackmailing me into giving him money to escape was pointless, Jack,” said Cleo. “When I report what happened, you will be charged with trying to defend yourself. Mr Coppins will not get away with blaming you, but I agree that he will try to put the blame on you for killing Tom.”

“But I definitely didn’t kill him, Miss Hartley.”

“We know that, Jack,” said Dorothy. “It sounds strange, but your father was trying to protect you from Tom in a situation he had judged incorrectly. It’s Jessie who poses a threat to him because she saw him stab Tom.”

“Or she did it herself,” said Dorothy.

“In which case Coppins was trying to protect Jessie,” said Cleo.

“So what happens now, Miss Hartley?” said Jack.

“We need to know exact what happened, Jack, but if you had already left Tom and he was still alive, then Jessie or your father must have killed him.”

“That’s horrible,” said Mrs Coppins.

“You’ll have to give yourself up, Jack,” said Cleo.

“I can’t do that, Miss. No one will believe me.”

“I believe you.“

“What if I don’t turn myself in?”

“The longer you wait, the guiltier you will appear. Running away is as good as a confession.”

“The thing is that my father doesn’t care what happens to any of us, so he’ll put the blame on me or Jessie and make it stick.”

“If you tell the truth, you will be fine, Jack.”

“I’m not going to risk it.”

Jack got up and, before anyone could stop him, he ran out of the house.

Running out, he bumped into his little brother. Joe came running to Cleo shouting “Have you found my Dad?”

“Yes, Joe,” Cleo said. “He’s been found.”

“Where is he? Is he coming home?”

“No, Joe. He’s not coming here.”

“I want to see him. Take me to him, Miss Hartley.”

***

“How do you know Miss Hartley, Joe?” his mother wanted to know.

The boy told her proudly that he had hired her as a detective to find his father.

“Is that true, Miss Hartley?” said Mrs Coppins.

“Yes,” said Cleo. “He’s only a little boy, and whatever his father has done, he’s still his Dad.”

Mrs Coppins looked at the boy sadly.

“You can go to see him, Joe. But he’s in prison, and he’s done terrible things.”

The boy sat down and cried tears of bitter disappointment.

***

Jack did not re-appear. Cleo thought he would eventually turn up. She and Dorothy had plenty to discuss on the drive home.

“How much of Jessie’s story did you believe, Dorothy?”

“She’s very confused, but I think we need to put her story and Jack’s together. They are similar.”

“And we can’t disregard Mr Coppins’ angle. If he was trying to save Jack from being accused of murder, he had funny way of doing it,” said Cleo. “Or it was Jessie, Dorothy. We have to consider that.”

“I can’t believe that” said Dorothy.

“Gary will have to interview Coppins. He can be really tough, and the report we can give him on this afternoon’s interviews will help him along.”

“I hope he isn’t mad at us,” said Cleo.

“He won’t be. He needs us.”

“He needs arrests, Dorothy. I have no illusions about Gary’s need to prove that he can do better than us.”