Episode 17 - Kelly

Wednesday

Dorothy met Cleo at her office for an early breakfast with a review of the ongoing cases, and also to talk about Mrs Baines, since Cleo and Gary were due to question her later that morning. Before they had bitten into the first of Dorothy’s inimitable bagels.

Gary phoned with the news that the Baines’s questioning was postponed until the afternoon so that Kelly could be questioned that morning.

“What time?”

“At ten-thirty.”

“Shall I bring Dorothy along?”

Of course. The more the merrier!”

“See you then,” said Cleo and rang off.

***

“It’s such a pity I could not be there yesterday for Harry, but I had promised to help out in the church and you know how neurotic Mr Parsnip can be if he thinks a slight is personal.”

“I know, Dorothy. Think no more about it. You have my word for it that the whole interview was nauseating. Harry Marble is a nasty piece of work. No wonder his uncle or rather, his father did not want him to inherit.”

“But he will, won’t he, if Dr Marble is not the father of that girl.”

“Or half of it if she is Harry Marble’s half-sister, or a third if Mrs Riddle can get enough proof of entitlement.”

“Did you ask Harry about any of that?”

“No, but we should have.”

“He’s in custody so you can still ask him,” said Dorothy, “but won’t his DNA provide the answer?”

“It’s more complicated than that. If the woman he thinks is his mother really was his birth mother and his father was Dr Marble, he is the result of an incestuous relationship. He says his mother is dead, but if she was Dr Marble’s sister, then it was incest; if it was a cousin, the relationship was not illegal. The DNA system has rules. I’ll have to look them up. We’ll also have to wait until we hear Mrs Riddle’s version and that will have to be tomorrow. Do you fancy a trip to Brighton?”

“Yes, please! How are you going to explain to Mrs Riddle that you know Sylvie is her daughter?”

“In the end the DNA samples will tell us more, but I’d really like her to come clean of her own free will. I’m sure she knows that I have guessed.”

“Does the girl know who her real mother is?”

“I’m all for improvising, when I run out of facts,” said Cleo. “Maybe Sybil looks more like Mrs Riddle than Mrs Riddle’s sister or cousin or whoever it turns out to be.”

“I’m looking forward to the visit,” said Dorothy.

“Please watch carefully and jump in if necessary. A rumour or two might be needed.”

“By rumours I suppose you mean the stories I’ve heard now and again about Dr Marble’s youthful romantic escapades. He must have been quite a lad, and not always a very nice one.”

“Mrs Riddle might even be forthcoming with the truth. If he was a rake, she might have been seduced or even raped.”

“Of course, there’s a chance that Dr Marble has other illegitimate offspring,” said Dorothy.

“Plug that, too, Dorothy. That’s the last thing Mrs Riddle would want bandied about. She was evidently devoted to Dr Marble whatever sort of a rotter he was. On the other hand, she acted so devoted that I’m not sure she wasn’t play-acting.“

“It should be an interesting visit, Cleo! Are you going to pre-warn her that we are coming?”

Definitely not. I want to find her at home, especially if she has something she would rather we didn’t know. But look at the time. We’ll have to hurry to Middlethumpton or Gary will start questioning Kelly without us, and I sure don’t want that to happen!

***

Kelly was, as usual, belligerent and disinclined to answer questions.

“Not you again,” he said to Cleo when she entered Gary’s office, slightly out of breath and a bit late. “And your big bunny, Annie get your Gun, I see.”

“Good morning, Mr Kelly,” said Cleo.

“That’s me,” said Dorothy.

“So now we can get this meeting going,” said Gary, irritated that Cleo and Dorothy were late.

“Sorry We’re late. Traffic,” said Cleo.

***

“First answer my question, Mr Hurley,” Kelly said.

“Which is?”

“Why am I here?”

“It’s a small matter of your visit to Dr Marble at his villa on Friday, Mr Kelly.”

“Who the hell is that? I don’t know any Dr Marble.”

“He’s the solicitor who did not draw up the second will leaving you the Kelly farm, Mr Kelly.”

“But he did draw up the first will, didn’t he?” said Cleo. “And that was not at all to your liking, was it?”

Kelly merely grunted.

“Mr and Mrs Kelly left their farm to charity, didn’t they, Mr Kelly?”

“Did they?”

“They didn’t have a son to leave it to, did they, Mr Kelly?”

“They did. They had me, but I went away to find work.”

“You’ll have to prove that, Mr Kelly. No one who knew the Kellys had any idea that there was a son until you turned up out of the blue,” said Cleo. “You visited Dr Marble to make sure he did not carry out his threat to expose you even after all those years, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mrs Coppins had already issued a threat, hadn’t she, Mr Kelly?”

“As I’ve already said, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“In Mrs Coppins’ case I think Miss Hartley means blackmail, Mr Kelly,” said Gary.

“You must be joking!”

“No. Mr Hurley is serious, Mr Kelly. We have reason to think that Mrs Coppins had to die because she was blackmailing you.”

“Damned woman!”

“You took up with her again after decades. Or had your goings-on been carrying on for the whole time?” said Gary.

“She cleaned my house once or twice,” said Kelly.

“And warmed your bed more than twice, Mr Kelly,” said Cleo.

“Damned woman,” said Kelly again, but this time with rather less bravado.

“Don’t talk ill of the dead, Mr Kelly,” said Dorothy.

“So you admit that Mrs Coppins was blackmailing you, do you, Mr Kelly?” said Cleo. “She did not like that brothel of yours, did she?”

“What brothel?”

“With all other those women around, Mrs Coppins hardly got a look in, did she?”

“I admit nothing,” said Kelly “Except that she was a greedy bitch.”

“Greedy for what, Mr Kelly?” Dorothy asked.

Kelly did not reply.

“But she didn’t have any luck, did she?” said Gary.

“You had sex with her and then sent her home on Monday afternoon, didn’t you, Mr Kelly?” said Cleo. “She came back later. Had you told her you would give her a down-payment then or did she return to collect her fee for services rendered that day?”

Kelly did not react.

“Let me just paint the scene, Mr Kelly,” said Cleo.

“Go to hell!” said Kelly.

“Hold your tongue, Kelly,” said Gary.

“Mrs Coppins returned. You asked her in, slipped a £20 down her cleavage and said there’d be more if she stayed. You also gave her the impression that you were going to agree to her payment conditions in future. She felt victorious. You offered her a drink, ostensibly to seal the agreement, and soon after that she went into a coma.”

Kelly looked uneasy, but still said nothing.

“You just waited for her to die, didn’t you, Mr Kelly? End of blackmail attempts. You could get the sex somewhere else. When she was dead you dragged her to the pond and sank her. By then it was dark and you were quite sure no one had seen you.”

“But somebody had, Mr Kelly,” said Gary.

“I don’t believe you,” said Kelly.

“That’s as good as a confession, Mr Kelly,” said Gary. “And if you can confess to one killing, it should be easy to confess to another.”

“I want a lawyer,” said Kelly.

“What a pity Dr Marble is dead,” said Cleo.

“I don’t know who that is.”

***

Kelly turned to the security officer who had brought him in.

“Get me out of here!” he shouted.

“Yes, take him away, please. I can’t think of a single reason to delay locking him up,” said Gary.

“We’ll talk later about Dr Marble,” said Cleo. “For instance, did you visit him before or after his nephew?”

Kelly said nothing. He put up a slight struggle against the security officer, but police offers know how to deal with violent customers. Kelly was no match for him.

***

“We didn’t ask enough about the Marble killing,” Gary regretted, when Kelly had been taken away.

“Enough to start him thinking,” said Cleo. “Did he see Harry? Did he even know someone else went to the villa apart from himself?”

Gary rushed to the door.

“Bring him back!” he commanded, and Kelly was brought back into the office.

“How well do you know Dr Marble, Mr Kelly?” Gary asked.

“I said I don’t know him at all. Who the hell is that?”

“The solicitor with whom you deposited the second will – the one leaving the farm to you, Mr Kelly,” said Cleo. “I’m surprised that you claim not to have known him.”

“Oh him,” said Kelly. “I only met him once.”

“And Harry Marble? The relative of Dr Marble. You know him, don’t you?” said Cleo.

“Hell I do,” said Kelly.

“Did you see Harry or anyone else leave when you arrived at the Marble villa?” said Cleo.

“I didn’t see anyone because I didn’t go there,” said Kelly.

“Then how did your fingerprints get there?” said Cleo. ”You stole cash out of a drawer in Dr Marble’s office, too. You have already admitted that.”

“Not that day,” said Harry.

“Which day?” said Gary.

“I want a lawyer,” Kelly shouted.

“You’ll get one,” said Gary, gesturing to the security guard to take him away again.

***

“Good work, Cleo. Coffee?”

“Yes, please. I’m dying for some. ”

 “What dreadful manners that man has,” said Dorothy.

“So what do you think, apart from his manners?” Gary asked.

“He’s an accomplished killer,” said Dorothy.

“Which corpses are you going for?”

“Betty Coppins, guaranteed. And the witness you theorized about really exists, Gary. I think Jessie Coppins witnessed what happened to her mother.”

“That was just a ruse, Dorothy.”

“But a clever hunch, Gary. Instinctive. Can you get her here and ask her?”

“Now?”

“Yes, now, while the iron’s hot.” said Dorothy.

***

Jessie was brought in a few minutes later.

“Why did you go to the Kelly farm on Monday evening, Jessie?” Dorothy asked.

“How do you know?” the girl replied.

“We thought you might have looked for your mother after you got out of that hospital,” said Dorothy.

Cleo and Gary held back and waited.

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

“I only wanted to sleep in the barn, Miss,” the girl said.

“Did you see Mr Kelly, Jessie?”

“I hid, didn’t I”

“I’m sure you did. That was a very good idea. What did Mr Kelly do?”

“He carried something to the pond, Miss.”

“Something or somebody, Jessie?”

Jessy hesitated before her next answer.

“Somebody, Miss.”

“Was it your mother, Jessie?”

“It could have been a dead sheep, Miss.”

“Was it a dead sheep?

“No, Miss.”

“Was it your mother?

“Yes, Miss.”

“What did you do then, Jessie?”

“I found some dry straw and made a bed,” said Jessie.

“Didn’t you try to save your mother?”

“She was bloody dead, wasn’t she?”

***

There was nothing more to be said. There was now a witness to Paddy Kelly’s cold-blooded action and witnesses to what Jessie had just said. The report from the psychiatrist was not yet available, but Cleo thought the cold -blooded reaction of Jessie Coppins had been in tune with the idea that Asperger sufferers are often unemotional about situations that would cause emotional havoc and distress in normally oriented people.

And after all, Jessie had at one time wanted her mother to be dead, so her reaction was not inexplicable. Self-preservation had been first on her list so she would not have given away her presence to Kelly. Deep thinking was not programmed in Jessie’s reptilian brain, and the rest of her brain was pre-set for looking after herself at all costs. She did not want to go back into what she called ‘a loony bin’, so sounding an alarm anywhere would be out of the question.

Jessie was escorted back to her arrest cell. There was no point in questioning her any further right now. She had turned belligerent and would block any further attempt to find out anything if was anything to add to what she had said.

***

“That was pure wizardry,” said Gary. “You deserve a big hug.”

“I was surprised at how meek the girl was.”

“She trusts you, Dorothy,” said Cleo.

Gary hugged both of them. He could not bring himself to say that they were indispensable, but they were. He loved is Ladies and he was able to say that much.

***

“We’ll have to ask Jessie what she saw at the villa,” said Dorothy.

“We don’t know if she went there, Dorothy,” said Cleo.

“Mark my words, she did. She’s still hiding something and it is not necessarily about Kelly,” said Dorothy.

***

Gary and Cleo were ready to set out to see Baines when the news of her suicide came.

“Why would she choose now, Cleo?” Gary said. “The warders must have pre-warned her although they were told not to.”

“Pride, Gary. Another round of questioning would have been fatal for her anyway. I expect she’d had enough and knew that an additional prosecution would mean spending most if not all of the rest of her life behind bars.”

“The guards were not paying attention, Cleo. That happens far too often.”

“How did she kill herself?”

“Hanged herself with her dressing-gown cord. The light fittings in cells are usually very robust.”

“I thought cords and belts etc. were confiscated,” said Cleo.

“I expect she had behaved well and wanted a dressing-gown for those long cosy evenings in her cell with only a TV for company.“

“It moves me to tears,” said Cleo.

“I’m sorry we did not get to ask her those vital questions.”

“I think we already knew the answers, Gary.”

***

Dorothy had already gone home on the bus, so Cleo rang her on her mobile to tell her about Baines. Dorothy was not surprised. She revealed her intention of ringing her old flame Jack Cooper again. She had been surly the first time she had talked to him and not given their friendship a chance, she told Cleo.

Cleo did not think it was a good idea, but without telling Dorothy that she suspected criminal activity in Cooper’s biography she could not tell her not to see the guy again. Anyhow, even if Cleo and Gary’s suspicions were justified, it was unlikely that Cooper would involve Dorothy in something criminal. She was part of his past, but Cleo was nevertheless anxious for her impulsive friend.

“Be sure to choose a local and neutral venue again so that you have the choice of getting away fast.”

“Why would I want to get away fast, Cleo?”

Cleo decided she had again been too dramatic.

“Just a turn of phrase, Dorothy.”

“You don’t know anything about him that I don’t know, do you?” said Dorothy.

Dorothy’s sleuthing nose was leading her on again.

“What makes you think that?”

“You went cautious all of a sudden,” said Dorothy. “You always put on that tone of voice when something is bothering you.”

“Do I?”

***

Dorothy made her way to the vicarage before going home. She wanted a heart to heart talk with the vicar since he seemed to be getting less and less interested in his job and the Sunday services were ordeals for everyone. She had already told Cleo, who avoided religion, that Frederick’s sermons were now so insufferable that people had started to walk out without waiting for them, or waited so that they could walk out demonstratively and noisily while he was preaching.

It could not go on that way. Dorothy wondered why the bishop did not step in. She was sorry for Edith. Though she did not like her very much, she did not like see her suffering while Frederick Parsnip seemed be oblivious to the problems.

The situation had deteriorated even more after Mr Morgan came back to his old job. The vicar suspected that his wife was sweet on the organist although he was far from being sweet on her himself. He took no notice of Edith unless her cooking was not up to scratch. The thought of her wandering off with a Welsh bard – that being the nearest the vicar could get to describing an elopement with Mr Morgan – was nevertheless humiliating. Cleo thought he was about as possessive as Robert. Why did some men think they had bought exclusive ownership of their wives?

“Pull your socks up,” Dorothy had told him many times. Mr Parsnip was still angry that Dorothy had organized Mr Morgan’s return and arranged for the church to pay him a decent salary. Dorothy almost hoped that Edith had finally walked out, but she hadn’t. She was sitting in the kitchen weeping.

“What shall I do?” she moaned.

Dorothy, who had been forced to go round the vicarage to the back door after the front doorbell had gone unheard, had found the door unlocked as usual and walked straight into the kitchen.

“Do with what, Edith? Where is Frederick? No one answered the front door.”

“In his study sharpening pencils,” Edith replied through her sobs.

Frederick Parsnip got through a lot of pencils. Sharpening them was like knitting, but the result was more destructive. Frederick Parsnip could be quite vicious with those innocent pencils if something was really troubling him apart from his usual frustration.

“Why are you crying, Edith?”

“Frederick says that Anna must go, Dorothy.”

Anna was the daughter of Sybil, Gary Hurley’s former girlfriend, left over after the woman’s violent death at the hands of a client of the kind she was supposed to have given up. Anna was now integrated into the Parsnip family of five boys. The problem was that the vicar and father of those five boys was not integrated. He thought – and he had told Edith so – that Anna was disrupting his family life.

“It’s not true, Dorothy,” Edith moaned. “The boys love her, I love her. Everyone loves her, but Frederick does not love anyone except himself.”

“I agree. I’ll have a word with him,” said Dorothy.

“No, don’t do that,” called Edith, but Dorothy was already on her way to the vicar’s study. She could hear the scraping of the craft knife on the pencils.

“Frederick, put that knife down! I want to have a serious talk with you.”

“What have I done now?”

“You have told Edith that Anna has to go, Frederick.”

“Have I?”

“You know you have.”

“No room at this inn, Dorothy. That girl is breaking up my home.”

“That little girl is about eight years old and as good as gold, Frederick. The only one capable of breaking up the home is you! You are being ridiculous and I won’t allow it to happen.”

“And how do you intend to stop it, Dorothy?”

“By complaining anonymously about your shortcomings as vicar, Frederick.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Those terrible sermons, for example. And you never visit your parishioners. In fact, the only Christian thing you still do is to spend Tuesday nights meditating in the church, and you do that for yourself.”

“You wouldn’t go to the bishop, Dorothy, would you? Where would I go?”

“Exactly, Frederick. Where would you go? Selfish and egoistic as ever. What about the family? They would have to go, too. This church would probably be closed down.”

Frederick said nothing, but grabbed a pencil and proceeded to whittle it down until there was nothing left but a pile of shavings.

“Believe me,” continued Dorothy, who was now saying things she had wanted to say for ages. “Edith will find a home with all those children, including Anna, whose upbringing she has officially taken on. Social services will help her. The bishop will help her. Friends will help her, and you will be left high and dry.”

Frederick Parsnip looked at Dorothy in astonishment.

“And I’ll tell you something else, Frederick. Little Anna is a surrogate; she gives love and Edith dispenses it. You offer none and are not in the least bit lovable.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean that since Mr Morgan has been back you have slid down the hill into jealousy and depression,” said Dorothy. “If you don’t want to lose Edith, even in her status as housewife, you’d better get your act together.”

“She isn’t thinking of moving in with Mr Morgan, is she?”

“Of course not. He has a room at the bistro and is enjoying life. He doesn’t want six children.”

Dorothy waited for the vicar to say that he didn’t either, but silence was his only reaction.

“I’ve said what I came to say, Frederick. Think about it!”

With those words, Dorothy left via the front door without even saying goodbye to Edith. There would be no improvement at the vicarage, Dorothy mused. Perhaps contacting the bishop about the situation was a good idea. She would consider it.

***

The walk home in the summer sunshine did Dorothy a power of good. When she got back to the cottage, she rang Jack Cooper and made a date with him for Friday. They would meet at the bistro again. Jack was surprised that Dorothy had contacted him. In fact, he was probably moving on the following week, so for old times’ sake it was fortuitous that she had rung, but he did not tell her that in so many words. Dorothy phoned Cleo to confirm that she had made a date with Jack for Friday evening at the bistro.

Back in her office, Cleo rang Gary to inform him that Dorothy would be meeting Jack Cooper again after all. Had anything happened with the investigation into his activities?

“Not a lot,” said Gary.

“Meaning?”

“That Rolls Royce was hired.”

“Was it? I thought Mr Cooper was a rich man.”

“He is. He’s renting a service flat at the moment. That’s costing him a fortune.”

“Has he been under observation?”

“The Oxford police have enough to do without observing some old codger, Cleo.”

“But if he really is part of a syndicate dealing in stolen timber and heaven knows what else, including drugs, they should take an interest.”

“I expect you’ve done some of your own research by now,” said Gary in defence of his colleagues.

“I sure have. Robert likes to go to bed early and alone, so I have plenty of free time to go surfing.”

“We will probably go to bed early, Cleo.”

“But together.”

“So what did you find out about Cooper’s interests?”

“You can read it all in my report and web links, Gary.”

“No time. Tell me.”

“Did you know that Canada has nearly 400 million hectares of woodland?”

“Then they won’t miss a few trees, will they?”

“How crazy is that, Gary?”

“Sorry! Only joking.”

“You asked me to provide you with information.”

“Yes. Carry on…..Please!”

“I researched the crimes that tree thieves get up to. Sometimes they take timber that has already been cut by legitimate loggers, but still on site. Or they fell the timber themselves and slice it into chunks. But that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Crimes include illegal logging, selling the timber, marking logs incorrectly and even manufacturing them into lumber or other products.”

“Plenty of scope, then,” said Gary.

“I also read about vandalism, but that probably doesn’t apply to Mr Cooper, so I left that out of my report. You should have read it by now.”

“I haven’t had time.”

“Most of the illegal harvesting and transport of timber takes place late evening or at the weekends, but not usually in the winter.”

Gary tried valiantly to be interested. He really wanted to ask her to meet him, but she did not seem to be in the mood to be asked.

“What about forest fires?” he asked dutifully.

“Illegal fires come under the vandalism category, Gary. You could contact the guys they call ‘crimestoppers’ for more detailed information, but I think I’ve said enough to indicate just how a criminal mind would go about making money out of timber. There’s bound to be more than one syndicate and it would not surprise me if Jack Cooper had been the brains of one of them. He was a forestry expert. He even had an MA. He is just the type those gangsters need: knowledgeable, ambitious and unscrupulous.”

“Any suggestions as to how we should go ahead?”

“Do you really want me to tell you, Gary?”

“Why not? You’ve done all the thinking so far.”

Typical Gary. Cleo never knew if he was passing the buck or genuinely lacking in ideas.

“Can we meet to discuss all this, Cleo?”

“Hey Gary! What I’m telling you is urgent. I’m really worried about Dorothy. I can’t go on a date right now.”

“Just to talk, Cleo.”

“OK, but listen first,” said Cleo, weakening though she knew she should keep to the subject of her phone-call. “We need to know exactly why Mr Cooper had himself declared dead. He must be scared of something or someone.”

“That sounds logical. He wanted to get out of what he was in to and being dead is the easiest way.”

“There’s no time to waste. We don’t know if Cooper’s syndicate has traced him and when they plan to take action.”

“Surely not in Upper Grumpsfield!” said Gary.

“It wouldn’t be the first time gangsters had congregated here, would it? They could also have followed him last time.”

“OK, Cleo. I’d better watch over Dorothy, then.”

“Can you? At least when she meets Cooper at the bistro?”

“Yes. That will give us a chance to observe him.”

“Great.”

“And I can get the Oxford colleagues to take a look at that car-hire place,” Gary suggested. “Who knows? Cooper will have had to give personal details when he hired that car.”

“Do you think…?”

“I don’t think anything yet, Cleo. But in the words of the master, if you’ve been down every track, one of them will turn out to be the right one.”

“That sounds more like Hitchcock, Gary.”

“Well, he led everyone up the garden path, didn’t he?”

“OK. I know I’m making a lot of the Cooper thing, but he is wanted in Canada, after all,” said Cleo.

“Only in his local town, and they’ve given up because he’s officially dead.”

“And that is enough reason to find out what he’s up to, Gary. People don’t have themselves declared dead if they are alive and well and have nothing to hide.”

“Or that’s a way to escape their enemies, Cleo.”

“They might have followed him here,” said Cleo.

“I could order a patrol car, too. So that we have extra support. When exactly is Dorothy’s assignation?”

“It’s at the bistro again on Friday evening. If someone’s there by six that’s bound to be in good time. Maybe someone should be outside in case Cooper has been trailed to the bistro.”

“Don’t tell Dorothy what our plan is, will you?”

“Of course not. I don’t want to alarm her, Gary. She’ll be less nervous if she knows nothing about the potential danger.”

“Greg told me she has a new firearm. He got it for her. She’s apparently a crack shot. She was at the practice range over the weekend, Greg told me.”

“Keep me posted about Cooper and everything else, please. Ciao!””

“Don’t go yet,” said Gary. “We need to have a personal meeting about all this!”

“I could squeeze an hour in. Robert is playing table-tennis somewhere later.”

“Romano’s at six?”

“Sure.”

***

Romano was delighted to see Cleo, who got there first. He handed her the key to the guestroom with a wink and a nod. Cleo went straight up to Romano’s flat and into the guestroom. She was in for a surprise. Romano had more than one key to his apartment.

Gary was waiting for her, uncompromisingly attired in nothing at all and wrapped somewhat immodestly in part of the bed quilt..

“I should not really be here,” she said, hastily joining Gary. “Romano is a rogue and we are supposed to be having a crime confab.”

“I beg to differ,” said Gary. “You know I can’t live without you.  I’m going to find out about the Marble villa purchase even if it was your idea,.”

“I just wish you were a lousy lover and could stop being a lovable guy, Gary.”

“No one’s ever said that to me before.”

Gary pointed out that he had not had to invite her to skip talking shop. She was there because she wanted to be, with her velvety skin and smelling as fragrant as a flower shop.

“I need you to be a permanent fixture in my life, Cleo.”

“I am already, aren’t I?”

“Stay all night.”

“You know I can’t.”

“Robert knows about us. He’s just not able to face the truth and get out of our lives.”

“I can’t hurt him,” said Cleo.

“But you are hurting me.”

“Why don’t you just shut up and act like a lover instead?”

“Your wish is my command, Madam!”

Two hours later, Cleo left and Gary went back into the restaurant. They had not said a word about Cooper.