Episode 11 - Cupid

Saturday cont.

At just before five, Cleo reluctantly ended her tryst and drove home. On the way she phoned Dorothy on her cell phone and told her she that would pick her up in fifteen minutes to pay an unscheduled visit to Dr Marble if she could make time.

Less than an hour after Cleo had parted reluctantly from  her lover, she and Dorothy were walking briskly up the drive to the front door of the Marble villa. It was ajar.

“This looks suspicious,” said Dorothy. “Surely Dr Marble doesn’t leave his door open.”

Cleo was also worried. Open front doors in private houses were an alarm signal.

“No, I’m sure he doesn’t, Dorothy,” she said. “We’d better not go in. I’ll ring Gary.”

Gary was sitting in his office staring at his computer screen and still steeped in wonder over his tryst with Cleo. Any indication that she wanted to stop seeing him was contradicted by her being there and being eager and hungry for their love-making.

“Gary?”

“Cleo. You sound alarmed.”

“Can you send a patrol car to 22 Thumpton Close? Someone we are trying to visit this evening has left his front door open and we are nervous about going in.”

“Who’s we? Your knight in shining armour?”

“Dorothy, of course.

“Don’t go in. That’s an order.”

“We won’t,” said Cleo.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. I was just thinking about us,” said Gary. “But more relevantly, what are you doing in Thumpton Close on a Saturday evening?”

“I’ll explain when you get here.”

***

Gary was glad Cleo had rung him rather than just anyone. Being with her on a professional level was very important to him. He wondered if the intensity of his feelings for Cleo were responsible for his renewed burnout symptoms. After all, she had told him that she was cooling off so as to save her rotten marriage. But today it had become quite evident that the cooling-off was non-existent.

However, the stress of not knowing when they could meet again and her stubbornness about a marriage she had got herself into and hated were getting at him. He feared that if he tried to prise her from Robert she would finish her affair with him. He could not bear that thought.

Now and then he though he must be indulging in a teenage fantasy. Cleo wanted the best of both worlds, he decided. He would have to stop seeing her, however hard it would hit him. But how could he do that without exposing his favourite sleuths to danger? They would not stop investigating. He was sure about that.

***

“We’ll wait outside where we can’t be seen,” said Cleo. “Are you still there, Gary?”

“Of course. I’m on my way. I’ll be with you as soon as I can. I’ll notify a patrol car. I may need assistance.”

“I hope it’s a false alarm, Sweetheart, but when I’ve told you a bit more about Dr Marble, you’ll understand why I called you.”

“Who is this Dr Marble?”

“A solicitor of the old school.”

“That sounds dreary.”

“Come anyway,” said Cleo. “I need you.”

***

Gary wished Cleo needed him as much as he needed her. He drove immediately to the address Cleo had given him. A few minutes later his red sports car drew up behind Cleo’s old four-door jalopy. Cleo and Dorothy were waiting at the gate, hidden from view by some bushes between them and the house.

“Has anything happened in the meantime?” he asked.

“Nothing. It’s as silent as the grave,” said Dorothy.

“Good God, Dorothy, do you have to be so morbid?”

“Sorry, Gary, but I’ve never been in this kind of situation when there hasn’t been a corpse to crown the event.”

Gary strode purposefully up the drive and pushed the front door of the villa open. A smell of gas pervaded the atmosphere. Covering his nose and mouth with his cravat he followed the smell in what he assumed was the direction of the kitchen. On the floor with her head in the gas oven he found a woman.

Cleo and Dorothy had followed at a safe distance, covering mouths and noses.

“She’s alive,” Gary shouted, flinging open the back door. “Help me to get her out of here, Cleo. Dorothy, wait outside! The air is not good. I don’t want you fainting.”

“It’s Mrs Riddle, “said Cleo. “Who did that to her?”

With the oven turned off and the kitchen door wide open, the air soon cleared. The gas had not been turned up very far, Cleo discovered when she turned it off. Luckily for the housekeeper, the culprit had been in a hurry and had not checked.

“Who is it?” Gary asked.

“As I sad, it’s Mrs Riddle. She keeps house here.”

It did not take long for the woman to regain consciousness. Cleo thought they must have disturbed the intruder if he had heard their footsteps on the gravel path as they came a few minutes previously. He could have escaped through the back door into Thumpton Wood within seconds.

“What happened?” the woman called, and Gary could see that she had a nasty gash on the back of her head.

“Who bashed your head in?” he shouted.

“Someone hit me from behind and I don’t remember anything else.”

“Thank your lucky stars we got here in time,” said Dorothy.

“You should thank Miss Hartley and Miss Price for raising the alarm,” said Gary.

Wow, thought Cleo, knowing Gary’s public reservations about female private eyes.

“Where’s the Master, Sir?” the woman wanted to know.

“I think we’d better look for Dr Marble, Gary,” said Cleo. “Dorothy, can you look after Mrs Riddle?”

“Of course. I’ll help you into the garden, shall I? Can I get you some water?”

“Yes please. I’ll be all right in a minute.”

“Why was the front door open, Mrs Riddle?” Gary asked.

“Who are you, Sir?”

“Police. Miss Hartley asked me to find out why the front door was open, Mrs Riddle.”

“Oh, I remember now. The delivery man.... I took the parcel from him and brought it into the kitchen. That could have been the man who hit me.”

“So he must have followed you.”

“I didn’t notice.”

“Did you recognize him?”

“I didn’t really look at him. I was busy with the parcel.”

“Well don’t worry. We’ll find him, Mrs Riddle,” said Gary.

“I can’t see any parcel here,” said Dorothy. “Where is it?”

“He will have taken it with him,” said Cleo. “It was probably only a ruse to get into the house, but it does rather indicate that the action was premeditated, doesn’t it.”

“Quick thinking, Cleo,” Gary said, and Cleo wondered if that was meant to be sarcastic. There was no trace of the lover now.

“Very clever, Cleo,” said Dorothy. “ Mrs Riddle can’t have had her head in the oven for very long, or she’d be dead.”

“The gas was turned on very low, fortunately,” said Cleo.

“How do you know that?” Dorothy asked.

“Because it only needed one click to turn it off altogether.”

“Do you think he hit you with this, Mrs Riddle?” said Gary. “Had you been using it?”

Mrs Riddle came back into the kitchen.

“It’s usually in a cupboard, but I was tenderizing some steaks for supper.”

“It was lying under the oven door,” said Gary. “That’s why the attacker did not see it and take it with him. Let’s hope his fingerprints are on it.

“I don’t know if I was hit with that, Sir.”

“There’s blood on it,” Gary said.

“That could be from the steaks,” said Mrs Riddle.

“But it was also probably used to bash you, Mrs Riddle. I’ll help myself to a plastic bag if you don’t mind.” He said, looking through the drawers until he found one. ”We’ll have to identify the blood.”

“I’ll show you to Dr Marble’s office, shall I?”

“That’s a good idea, Mrs Riddle,” said Gary.

The housekeeper led the way into Dr Marble’s office.

A gruesome scenario awaited them.

***

“I’d like to know how you knew about this, Cleo.” said Gary, genuinely aghast and turning away hurriedly before nausea could overcome him. The ladies had stronger stomachs.

“I didn’t know, but I was afraid it might happen. That why I came. I wanted to warn him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the man sooner, then, Cleo? I might have been able to prevent all this.”

“Because I saw Dr Marble only yesterday and have not even finished my report thanks to Robert’s interference.  Dr Marble said he was nervous but did not want anything to do with the police. Later I heard rumours about him and that made me think his anxiety might be justified. That’s why we came.”

“You should have brought me with you, Cleo, or at least told me earlier what you planned for later today,” said Gary. “I can’t emphasize enough that criminals are an unknown quantity.”

“I know that, Gary,” said Cleo looking contrite.

The sleuths moved into the hall.

Gary could not stop himself. He went up to Cleo and kissed her.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“So am I, but you should not go on this kind of investigation on your won, Ladies., ” said Gary. “Cheer up. We need a hug.”

“But I’m glad we came,” Dorothy said.

Gary drew the two sleuths into his arms.

“I love you both,” he said. “I don’t want anything to happen to either of you. Let’s talk about this later. Romano has a room at his Italian place. We could all go there. It’s quieter than my office.”

“I’d like that,” Cleo said.

“That’s a good idea,” said Dorothy. “Is that where you two to always go to be alone?”

“Yes, Dorothy,” said Gary. “But not to the little conference room behind the restaurant.”

“Oh.”

 “I’ve a better idea, Gary. When you’ve sorted this mess out, come to the cottage for supper, Gary. Robert will expect me to be at home.  Dorothy must come too. We can talk there.”

“With him chipping in?” said Gary.

“That makes it all the more authentic,” said Cleo, and Gary knew exactly what she meant.

***

Dr Marble had been struck from behind. A blood-stained white alabaster statuette had been used to hit the solicitor over the head. It now lay on the floor next to him.

“Cupid,” said Cleo.  

“Dead,” said Gary.

“This is, or rather, was Dr Marble,” said Cleo, placing her fingers on the man’s jugular vein, though she did not expect to feel a pulse. “He might have hit his head when he fell. That and the blow will have finished him off.”

“Weird that his name was Marble, don’t you think?” said Gary. “Hit with a marble statuette, poor guy.”

“The statue is alabaster,” Dorothy corrected .

“A rose by any other name,” said Gary.

“It’s weird  that he was scared that someone should want to attack him and then actually did only a day later and with such an elegant weapon. I have my suspicions already,” said Cleo.

“About Cupid?”

“There weren’t any arrows involved,” said Dorothy.

“Cupid has been and gone for that poor guy and his housekeeper,” said Gary.

“What makes you think that?” said Cleo.

“Men are allowed to have hunches too, my love.”

Dorothy heard the endearment and started to understand Cleo’s attraction to Gary. Robert would never issue an endearment. Dorothy was learning to understand the world that had not had much time for her except when she was making herself useful.

***

“I’m glad you feel empathy for the man, Gary,” said Cleo. “Hang on to me and take another look at Dr Marble. You should also take some photos, or give me the camera if you can’t bear to look.”

So Cleo knew how queasy he was, did she? He should have been humiliated, but he wasn’t. Cleo wanted to protect him. No one had ever done that before.

***

Dorothy viewed the lifeless body of Dr Marble dispassionately. She was not emotional. Gary had never seen her cry, even at Laura Finch’s funeral. No, that was not true. She cried for dead animals. They are worthier and nobler than most humans, she had once said.

***

Gary really did have a phobia about corpses. He did not know why, but he faked his way through such situations as the one in which he now found himself. He marvelled that the two amateur sleuths could be so tough.

“What about Mrs Riddle, Dorothy?”

“Still in shock, but I think she’s going to be all right. She won’t let me call Dr Mitchell.”

“We’d better not let her see Dr Marble again,” said Cleo.

“Assuming she did not do this,” said Gary.

“Surely the wound on her own head must indicate that someone was here,” said Dorothy.

“But maybe after Dr Marble was killed,” said Cleo.

“So give me a little clue about what has been going on, please,” said Gary. “I can’t wait for ever.”

“I think Dr Marble’s death has something to do with that second will of the Kellys,” said Cleo. “Since ring-binders are strewn everywhere, I think that someone has looked through them.”

“What would he have been looking for?” Gary asked.

“A testament drawn up by the old Kellys,” said Dorothy.

“Tell me more” Gary said.  “Do you know the whole story, Dorothy?”

“No,” she answered. “We haven’t had time to discuss everything. Cleo was anxious to get here.”

Gary phoned pathology at HQ. If Chris Marlow was hoping to have a free day, he was in for a shock.

“Not another corpse in that nest of a village,” the pathologist moaned.

“Remember the baby hatch, Chris?” said Gary.

“I thought that place had been closed down by the authorities.”

“It has, but the villa belonging to the new corpse is a few doors further down.”

“No connection, I hope.”

“Ask Cleo!”

“Oh, it’s like that, is it? Another edition of the rivals.”

“Rubbish. She got here first, that’s all.”

Cleo heard the last bit of Gary in that phone-call, and but she knew what Chris would think, so she did not comment. He was hopefully the only person to know that she and Gary had been lovers for a long time. Since Cleo and Gary confided in Chris separately, he also knew of Gary’s anxiety, not only about the chances of Cleo realizing that she was in the wrong marriage, but about solving problems when Cleo knew better and got things moving sooner.

“A forensic team will be there fast.”

“Thanks, Chris.”

”Bring a casket,” Cleo shouted down Gary’s phone, taking the opportunity of planting a fleeting kiss on Gary’s cheek. Gary sometimes had to wait a long time for that tiny gesture of affection if other people were around, so when it came he was invariably flabbergasted.

Dorothy probably missed seeing the kiss by seconds. She was shocked at the events at the villa. Not only that, but she could sense that Cleo and Gary were in some sort of emotional turmoil.

“Mrs Riddle will be OK now,” she said. “I’m going home if you don’t need me any longer.”

“Come for supper round about eight, Dorothy. Then we can discuss this incident in detail. I’m sure Gary will be there, won’t you, Gary?”

Gary never refused. Even if the case in hand was the reason for the invitation, he was aware that Cleo’s need to be near him was as great as his to be near her, even if Robert was present.

Outside the villa, Cleo talked with Gary about her pregnancy.

“Supposing it’s your baby, Gary, what do we do then?”

“I’d like it to be mine, Cleo. It would solve at least one problem.”

“Robert doesn’t want kids. He would like me to abort, but I won’t.”

“I want him to find out about us and throw you out.”

“He can’t throw me out. It’s my cottage.”

“Then you’ll have to throw him out!”

“How can I do that, Gary?”

“I had a good friend once. He used to say ‘let it happen’ and that’s what I’m going to do now.”

“Maybe the baby will look Indian,” said Cleo. “I’m not sure I could explain that to Robert.”

“You won’t have to. I can feel that in my bones.”

***

“What are you going to do now?”

“Watch the goings-on here, phone Romano and order some pasta for starters, collect it and be at the cottage for soon after eight.”

“Don’t let on that you know about the baby.”

“I won’t. Whoever is the father, I know the baby will make you happy, Cleo.”

“I can almost hear the violins,” said Cleo, getting into her car.

“Does this jalopy have an engine, Cleo?”

“Can you see horses towing it?”

“I’ll give you my red dragon one day.”

“I’ll keep you to that, Sweetheart.”

Cleo did not actually roar off in her automobile, but at least it sounded more like a car than a tractor.

On the way to the cottage, Cleo made a quick call to Robert on her mobile to assure him that she was OK, but the guy she went to investigate the previous day wasn’t.

“Good God! Not dead, I hope?”

“Yes and it was a killing I should have prevented.”

“If you had tried to, it might be you who needs a funeral, Cleo.”

“Anyway, it all took longer than I expected.”

“Was Gary there?”

“Sure.”

“Are we talking about that doddery solicitor? Am I right in thinking he’s the corpse?”

“Right in one. It’s all rather surreal, I mean strange.”

“Who’d want to do him in?”

“Ask me something easier!”

“I wish you’d stay out of mischief.”

“That’s a tall order.”

“I don’t like babies very much, but I’d put up with one rather than lose you. I’ll collect you from the villa. Wait for me!”

“Don’t. I’m in my car and I’m nearly home,” said Cleo. “Are you still at the shop?”

”Winding down for the day.”

“We’re having a business meeting tonight, Robert. I’ve asked Dorothy and Gary. He’s bringing pasta from Romano’s for starters.”

“And I invited Gloria because she was going shopping and would not have time to cook, she told me” said Robert.  “Are you at home now?”

No. I’m  in my car.”

Gloria arrived at the same time as Cleo. The Middlethumpton bus stopped almost in front of the cottage, but Gloria always dropped hints about inheriting Cleo’s car pretty soon. Jacket potatoes were  impaled on sticks stuck into the holes of a in a calendar on the bottom rack of the oven. That was one of Gloria’s inventions and it worked, necessity being the mother of invention.

***

Cleo would have preferred a barbeque, but Robert would have to make do with frying steaks on the hob since it was too late to get everything set up. Dorothy arrived with ice-cream for afters, closely followed by Gary, who said the pasta could be reheated in the microwave. Gloria was again reorganizing the kitchen. She had reorganized the shop and that had been a godsend, she claimed. Robert did not think so, but was outnumbered in a one to one protest at Gloria’s whims.

“Why are the potatoes on sticks?” Robert wondered when he saw the oven full of them.

 “Family custom,” said Gloria.

“And basted?”

“Twice. With good oil,” she said.

“But we don’t eat the peal,” he protested.

“We do now,” said Gloria. “But will we get enough to eat?”

“We have Gary’s pasta for starters, Mother. We won’t starve.”

“I’m to hear some news, aren’t I?” said Gloria, looking closely Cleo and smiling. “It’s about the baby, I expect!” she said.

“How do you know? No one has told you.”

“Robert dropped a hint.”

“I didn’t say anything about a baby,” said Robert. “Is it true, Cleo? I thought you must be joking. Does Gary know?”

”Should he?” said Cleo.

“He is your best friend after all,” said Robert.

“Correction! Dorothy is my best friend,” said Cleo. “And since everyone knows anyway, I won’t need to announce it, will I?”

You don’t have to tell everyone who you been to bed with, either,” said Gloria, to Cleo’s horror.

”Don’t be crude,” said Gary as he came back into the kitchen to stir the pasta.

Gloria looked at him in astonishment. A thought fluttered through her brain. Surely she was imagining things…”

“Aren’t you glad you’re going to be a grandma?” said Cleo.

“Of course. There’s room in my heart for lots of lovely people like the ones here,” she said looking at Gary.

It was Gary’s turn to look astonished. The old witch, he thought. She has guessed about us.

***

Gloria’s hang for melodrama was accompanied by a tendency to get sentimental. Now she spread her arms wide like wings and treated them to a few phrases of Glory Hallelujah.

“There’ll be plenty of baby-sitting for you,” said Robert, cutting into the aria. “Cleo is bound to continue with that cockeyed agency of hers rather than ridding herself of it while the going’s good.”

“Now it’s you being crude,” said Gary. “I’m shocked.”

“Abortion is not on the cards, Robert. I thought I’d made that clear,” said Cleo. “And neither do I intend to give up my agency.”

There was a stunned silence.

“Abortion?” said Gloria. “What sort of a jerk are you, Robert?”

“Well I’m not baby-sitting,” said Robert. “I’m not into kids. Perhaps Dorothy will lend a hand.”

Dorothy had been topping strawberries to go with the ice-cream on the dining-table as the kitchen was over-crowded.

“Did someone call me?” she said.

“Robert wants you to baby-sit,” said Cleo.

“I’ll be glad to,” said Dorothy. “I’ll make a plum duff if you invite me to supper again.”

“What’s that?”  Gloria asked.

“It’s a steamed pudding, Gloria.”

“Oh, you mean Christmas pudding,” said Gloria.

“Not quite,” said Dorothy. “It’s traditional English cooking. but I make it all the year round with different fillings. I put chopped fruit in a basin, add some suety dough and cook it all in the microwave. That’s quicker than steaming.”

“I hope you know what you are doing, Dorothy. Suet sounds revolting,” said Gloria.

“Make one now, Dorothy,” said Robert.

“I could make one with apples if you have some. Plums are not in season and I’ll have to use butter instead of suet, but won’t it be too late to eat it?”

“It’s never too late to eat a pudding,” said Robert. “Dorothy has never served up anything revolting and she won’t this evening, either,” he told Gloria.

“You can have my serving, then,” retorted Gloria.

“You’ll regret saying that,.” said Robert, glad to be talking about food. That was almost the only topic he felt safe talking about.

“The apple duff will be just in time to go with the ice-cream,” Dorothy said.

“Let’s eat Romano’s pasta first,” said Gary. Robert got it out of the oven and Dorothy started to mix her pudding.

Gary took Cleo aside. He had consulted his laptop and there was no new information, he told her.

“Weren’t you at the scene of the crime?” Robert asked Gary as he set out soup plates for the pasta.

“Of course he was, Robert,” said Cleo. “I told you that. That why he and Dorothy are here for supper”.

“I can’t see a connection,” said Robert.

 “I was there for a while,” said Gary, “but there’s not much you can do at the scene of a crime once the main tasks are completed.”

Gary was trying not to show how it hurt him to witness that chump of a guy and Cleo playing at marriage.

“I just hope the assassin left fingerprints somewhere,” he said.

“On the cupid, for example,” said Cleo.

“What cupid? You’re talking in riddles,” groaned Gloria. “Shall we have a Martini before the main dish?”

 “Thanks for bringing the pasta, Gary,” said Cleo.

“I love Romano’s pasta,” said Gloria, not mentioning that she was starting to have amorous thoughts about the Italian restaurant owner, mainly because she did not believe it herself.

Over supper, at which Gloria decided she would try the apple-duff after all and proceeded to eat it with obvious enjoyment,

Cleo speculated about a link between Dr Marble and Paddy Kelly. Gary had spent the meal listening to the repartee and enjoying the food despite his underlying sadness at seeing Cleo acting out her absurd marriage.

“Is that the odd guy from the farm? What kind of a link would that be?” Gloria wanted to know.

Cleo resisted the urge to tell her mother to mind her own business.

“Dr Marble is the solicitor who used to draw up most of the wills made around here after they were drawn up by his predecessor. Copies were kept and I needed to see if there was a genuine official will making Kelly the sole beneficiary. There were two wills, and the later one would of course be the relevant one though Dr Marble said he had not had a hand in drawing it up. At first glance, it looked OK, but I was uneasy because of what I had heard about Paddy Kelly from Delilah’s landlord after seeing the wills for the first time.”

“Wow,” said Gloria, who had followed about half the account.

“You certainly get around, Cleo,” said Gary, only too aware that he had not been a party to what Cleo was doing in the Coppins case. “Do you mean that Kelly might have been at the villa looking for the will?”

“Sure!”

“But he was taking a risk, wasn’t he?”

“He was probably nervous after Mrs Coppins’ death.”

“Why would he be nervous, Cleo?” Gloria asked.

“I think it was because he had forged the second will after the death of the people he claimed were his parents.”

“And Dr Marble had nothing to do with the second will,” said Dorothy.

“Kelly handed it in after his so-called parents were dead,” said Cleo. “I now think he got into the villa, started looking through the papers and was taken by surprise by Dr Marble entering his office.”

“What a nerve!” Robert exclaimed.

“So that’s the name of the game,” said Gary, without even hiding his admiration for the way Cleo worked. He was almost sorry that his haste to make love to Cleo had been a priority over talking shop. Almost.

“I assume that Dr Marble surprised the killer, who grabbed the first thing that came to hand, a cupid statuette, Mother. Then he hit the poor guy over the head and ran off. The puzzling part is that he, or someone else came back dressed up as a mailman to deliver a parcel, knocked out the housekeeper and left her with her head in the gas oven.”

“But why would he come back if he had committed a homicide,” Gloria asked.

“I think he was afraid the housekeeper had recognized him, so he had to get rid of her.”

“But didn’t he get in the house as the mailman?” said Dorothy. “That takes planning.”

“He must have gone away and come back again,” said Gloria.

“We are not sure that the housekeeper was telling the truth, Mother.”

“Oh!”

“Didn’t you believe her, Cleo?” Dorothy said. “I thought she was genuine.”

“Couldn’t the guy have gone out via the patio?” said Gloria. “Everyone has a patio.”

“Dr Marble liked seclusion. He had heavy velvet drapes at all the windows. The patio door was not visible. You had to know it was there.”

“Your Dr Marble must have been a recluse,” said Gary.

“Our Dr Marble, Gary,” Cleo corrected and Robert looked at them both questioningly.

“So where are the wills now?” Gloria asked.

“Here,” said Cleo.

“That’s theft, Cleo,” said Gary.

“Only if you say so,” said Cleo. “I printed the photos I took with my cell phone and made you copies.”

“So the killer did not find the wills,” said Dorothy.

“He must have. I made the photos when I as visiting Dr Marble and he left the office for a moment.”

“I’m marvelling, Miss Marple,” said Gary.

“And that’s when I starting asking myself if two guys were involved,” said Cleo.

“I don’t think they would have been back in the ring-binder by then, Dorothy,” said Cleo. “Dr Marble wanted to study them again so they may have been taken from the desk although it looked as if some of the ring-binders had been thrown around.”

“Taken by Mrs Riddle, for instance,” said Gloria.

“Assuming they were of any use to anyone,” said Dorothy. “They were legal enough at the time. Mrs Riddle could have got at them any time, couldn’t she?.”

“I’d really like to know if that housekeeper is involved,” said Cleo.

“She might be that lawyer’s old girlfriend,” suggested Gloria.

“All the more reason for not killing him, Gloria,” said Gary.

“Wow, Mother. We should look into that” said Cleo, to Gary’s surprise since Cleo was normally not keen on her mother getting involved with detection after her past bitter experiences.

“This is all supposition and not based on any kind of clue or fact,” said Gary, glad that it was not all going to be plain sailing. If he could get evidence that supported any of the theories being bandied around he could call the the Marble case his own rather than having to grit his teeth and praise the Hartley Agency. It was one thing adoring the head of that organisation and quite another playing second fiddle to it.

***

 “What do the wills actually say,” Dorothy asked. “Let’s discuss that first.”

“In the second will, which is the relevant one, all previous wills are declared null and void and Patrick Kelly is stated to be the sole benefactor. But Dr Marble had a nephew,” said Cleo “and he is not mentioned, but he is entitled to half the property.”

“How do you know that,” Gary asked.

“Something the guy said.”

“The fact that a nephew is in the first will would be a good reason for not wanting the second will to be valid.” said Gary.

“But that means that Kelly would not want to see the back of Dr Marble, would he?” said Dorothy. 

“We hadn’t asked ourselves about Kelly, but of course, he is a major suspect since it would cost him the farm if the second will is declared a forgery,”  said Gary. “What do you think, Robert?”

There was no doubt in Cleo’s mind that Gary had noticed that Robert  was taking 10 second naps.

“No coffee for me, thanks,” Robert said.

***

“There are of course others mentioned in the first will, such as the housekeeper and her niece,” said Cleo. “So they are all suspects.”

“It is very strange that all those people were disinherited in the second will,” said Dorothy.

“And that makes it all the more necessary for Kelly to prove that the second will was legal and for everyone else to prove that it was a forgery,” said Cleo. “Dr Marble was not involved and the notepaper was not his, so I’d like to know why the police closed the case without investigating fully. I thought it was a crime to forge a will to get at property, Gary.”

“Write a novel, Cleo,” Robert advised. “That’s less dangerous than all this stuff you’re regaling us with now!”

“The housekeeper survived the gas attack,” said Dorothy.

“That’s the only good news I’ve heard so far,” said Gloria.

“Cleo saw that the front door was slightly open when we got to the villa to ask Dr Marble to show us the wills,” Dorothy explained. “She thought that was strange, so she called Gary. You’ve just heard what we think had happened. Gloria,” said Dorothy. At least Gloria was taking an interest. Robert was bored stiff, she decided.

“That’s definitely a plot for a novel,” said Gloria.

“I suppose it could be, Mother,” said Cleo. “Don’t go telling customers anything in the shop tomorrow, please.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” retorted Gloria.

“Especially Hilda Bone,” said Dorothy.

“I don’t know who you mean,” said Gloria.

“Yes you do,” said Robert. “That’s the woman who always asks you about Cleo.”

“They all ask about Cleo.”

“Well, you can tell them that you are going to be a grandmother,” said Cleo. “That should keep them happy.”

Robert escorted Dorothy and Gloria home soon after dinner and coffee. Gary had made no move to leave. Robert was nervous about leaving him alone with Cleo, but he could hardly throw Gary out. Gloria lived in the flat above Robert’s shop. She didn’t really want to go home that early, but as she seemed to have no choice in the matter she was happy to chat with Dorothy all the way there, thinking that she might learn a few more salient details about the agency activities. Dorothy knew better than to tell her anything.

Dorothy walked slowly to her cottage from Gloria’s flat and offered Robert an expresso, which he accepted gratefully. He was in no hurry to get back to Gary. In fact, he hoped the guy would have gone by the time he got back. Dorothy had a hunch about what was going on at the cottage. She did not condone it, but it was not hard to see who was actually closer to Cleo.

“Penny for your thoughts, Robert.”

“I was just wondering if our favourite Chief Inspector has gone home.”

“He’s over Cleo now, Robert,” said Dorothy, not believing her own words. “She wants that baby,” said Dorothy,” but it isn’t an illness so she’ll go on working with Gary. You’ll have to put up with it.”

“If you’re sure.... The thing is….”

“Go on, Robert. What do you want to tell me? I’ll keep it to myself.”

Robert thought better of confiding in Dorothy.

“Nothing important. It’s nice for Cleo that she’s having a baby.”

“Isn’t it nice for you, Robert?”

“If you only knew, Dorothy.”

“What should I know?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“I’ll keep an eye on Cleo, Robert. Stop worrying!”

“I’d like it more if you were the only person keeping an eye on her.”

***

While Robert was out, Cleo was hoping to tell Gary how and why she had come across Dr Marble. But Gary was not playing that game.

“Is it mine, Cleo?”

“It can’t be, Gary. It must not be. You know that.”

“But if it is my baby, I want it and the truth.”

“Please don’t ask me again. I don’t want to hurt Robert.”

“He doesn’t even want the kid.”

“He will, Gary.”

“Only because it ties you to him, Cleo.”

“Let’s talk shop. I’m as distressed as you are. My hands are tied,” said Cleo.

Gary took Cleo’s hands in his and pressed them to his lips.

“Tied to mine…”

“Let’s have some espresso.”

“But a hug would be better,” said Gary, and the lovers clung to one another until they heard the front door open. They heard the door scratching on the floor and broke off their embrace hurriedly, but Robert delayed his entrance, giving them valuable time to recover their equilibrium, while Robert thought he would get to hear something compromising if he eavesdropped.

***

Gary said in a stage whisper how shocked he was that the Coppins case had moved along so far without his help.

Cleo told him in the same faked discussion it had been a series of lucky breaks, while wishing that Robert had marched in and found them in that embrace.

Robert thought Gary was flushed and wished he could tell when Cleo was, but her olive skin did not redden easily.

“I still need to find out if Kelly could have killed Mrs Coppins,” Cleo proceeded, ignoring Robert’s presence. “If we can prove that he is an imposter who forged a will that will set us on the road to finding out if he is also a murderer. I think it’s possible.”

“Well, you’d better be careful, Cleo. If he got away with the murder of the Kelly couple and had a hand in his wife’s death before bashing Dr Marble over the head, he might think he is unassailable,” said Gary. ”In that frame of mind, he might find your meddling a nuisance and want to put an end to it.”

“What I do is not meddling!” said Cleo in a deliberately reproachful tone.

“A killer would think so,” said Gary, still ignoring Robert’s presence.

“You’d better not tell Robert any of that or he won’t let me out of the house.”

“That would be a wise move!” said Robert, now coming forward.

“Oh, you’re back,” said Cleo, pretending she was surprised.

“I’m just leaving,” said Gary. “I’m still here because I’ll have to find a reason for locking Kelly up and Cleo always has good ideas.”

“As I already suggested, you could reopen the Magda case,” she advised.

“I’d need fresh evidence for that.”

“I’ll provide you with some,” said Cleo.

“What evidence?”

“Wait and see!”

“OK. I’ll get Greg Winter onto it, too,” said Gary.

As for Kelly, the only reason for him killing Dr Marble would be to stop him denying that he had drawn up that second will,” said Cleo.

***

Cleo was going to take the initiative in the Magda case, and Robert was astonished that Gary was so amenable about it. Cleo fervently hoped that Chris would find Kelly’s fingerprints in the Marble house. As for the Magda case, she would go back to the joint where Magda met her clients and Kelly had been known to hang out and talk seriously to the proprietor. It was a while ago, but guys who run pubs usually have an eye for any funny business going on and are more likely to chat once they believe it is safe to do so..

“If you don’t think reopening the Magda case would be a good move, you could get Greg or one of his colleagues to arrest Kelly for breaking and entering, Gary. Say you have a witness. The guy will ask who, but knows he won’t be told. If he doesn’t even ask where he was supposed to have been seen, that will be an indication that he was somewhere he shouldn’t have been.”

“But we can’t hold him for long unless we have real evidence,” said Gary.

“I’m sure you’ll get it,” said Cleo.

Gary phoned Greg and to Robert’s astonishment repeated Cleo’s instructions almost verbatim.

Then Cleo made them all yet more coffee and they waited for news.

It was late, and Robert was far from enthusiastic that Gary was still sitting around. Cleo was aware of the emotional conflict affecting Gary. She wanted to go to him and tell him she was leaving Robert now, but she did not have the courage to take that step.

Less than an hour later, Greg phoned to say they had put Kelly in a cell. Kelly had not been pleased and used language you didn’t usually pick up in a coffee bar. Greg had not mentioned Mrs Coppins, but Kelly had repeatedly insisted that he hadn’t killed her or anyone else. He was cunning enough not to ask where he was supposed to have broken and entered that day and why he was not charged with murder if they had grounds to think he was guilty.

After talking to Greg, Gary felt better. The more Kelly insisted on his innocence, the longer it would take for him to be freed.

“Thanks, Gary,” said Robert. ”We’ll feel safer in our beds tonight with that weird guy in custody.”

“Glad I could help,” said Gary.

“Tomorrow morning, I’ll comb through all those documents at Marble’s villa and see what else I can come up with,” said Cleo.

“It’s Sunday, Cleo,” said Robert.

“There’s a murderer waiting to be caught,” said Cleo.

“I thought you’d just caught him.”

“Charging someone with breaking and entering is harmless compared with homicide, Robert. Even you know that. Gary has had him taken into custody for safety’s sake.”

“I’ll join you, at the villa,” said Gary. “I can look if there is anything in any of the other ring-binders.”

***

“What about Jack Cooper? Did you get any further with that guy, Gary?” Robert asked.

“I found out that he was registered as deceased in some tin-pot village in the Canadian Rockies. Cooper had been climbing and fallen into a gorge, they said. His body had not been found.”

“A perfect disappearing act,” said Robert. “I hope Dorothy is not in danger.”

“She won’t be as long as he thinks that she thinks he came home to retire.”

“We’ll need to know who signed that death certificate,” said Cleo.

“It must have been a doctor. No one else would have had the authority.”

“So now we are looking for a corrupt doctor, aren’t we?” said Cleo.

“Assuming the death certificate was not a complete fake without a doctor of any kind being involved, it can’t be taken at face value since Mr Cooper is still alive,” said Gary. “But one thing at a time. We need to sort out that Kelly bloke first.”

“Or do some multi-tasking, Gary.”

Robert announced that he was going to bed. Gary took the hint and left. He and Cleo would meet at Dr Marble’s villa at eight thirty next morning.