by Robert Gott
‘Yes. If Selwyn was the last person to handle that slate, his prints would be all over it.’
‘Well, that too,’ she said.
‘There’s something else?’
‘I’d like to talk to Aggie Todd.’
Neither Helen nor Joe was expecting a frail old lady after the sharp riposte that Inspector Halloran had given to Constable Adams. Nevertheless, it was difficult to read the emotions in Aggie’s face, which was composed, but tense.
As for Aggie, she was astonished to find herself being questioned by a woman. Initially, even though Helen led off, Aggie directed her answer to Joe. They asked her the same questions Halloran had asked, and Constable Filan took notes.
‘You’ve been very patient, Miss Todd,’ Helen said. ‘This must be very difficult for you.’
‘I don’t know what I’m going to say to Matthew and Rose’s parents tomorrow. I really don’t. It’s just beginning to hit me now. The town will be devastated by Matthew’s death.’
‘And your niece’s death, too?’ Joe said.
‘Yes, of course. Both their deaths will upset people terribly.’
‘There are one or two things I’d like to clarify with you, if I may, Miss Todd?’
Aggie Todd nodded. Inwardly she was wary of this plain young woman who spoke to her as if she, Aggie Todd, were her equal. She was used to a certain level of respect in the town.
‘You’re very clear that Selwyn was in the front room subduing Matthew, and when he’d finished, he came out and attacked Rose.’
‘I’ve already explained to the inspector that Selwyn would have made the room tidy if anything had been knocked over. That’s why it was so neat.’
‘Yes, I see. I just want to be absolutely clear about this. You heard Matthew and Selwyn scuffling, is that right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Matthew didn’t call out?’
Aggie couldn’t remember if she’d told the inspector whether Matthew had made any sound. Should she change her story, and tell them what she believed to be the truth about Matthew’s death — that Rose had murdered him? She could still stand by her version of Rose’s death. Why hadn’t she thought of this earlier? She’d sleep on it, and construct a convincing reason for lying about Selwyn and Matthew fighting. They’d understand an aunt’s reluctance to accuse her own niece. For now, she’d stick to the version she’d given Inspector Halloran.
‘I can’t think. I’m sorry — it was all so fast and hideous. I don’t think Matthew cried out. No, I’m sure he didn’t. There was just the noise of them fighting. Selwyn is strong.’
‘And when the fighting stopped, Selwyn came out of the front room …’
‘He came out, walked right past me, and attacked poor Rose. He bashed her with that shovel as if she was no more than a fence post or something.’
Helen left a gap for Joe to jump in.
‘Miss Todd,’ he said. ‘At the time you say Selwyn was noisily fighting Matthew, Matthew had been dead for at least fours — maybe more.’
Aggie’s mouth dropped open, and the colour drained from her face. Helen didn’t give her an opportunity to speak.
‘I want to talk to you about Selwyn’s confession.’
It hadn’t occurred to Aggie that the police would know the time of Matthew’s death, and in her panic she hadn’t heard Helen’s question.
‘Miss Todd?’
Inspector Halloran was curious as to why neither Helen nor Joe was capitalising on the time-of-death discrepancy. With admiration, he realised what the strategy was: strip Aggie Todd of all her lies, and deny her the opportunity to deal with them one at a time.
‘Miss Todd?’ Helen repeated. ‘Selwyn’s confession?’
Almost with relief, Aggie remembered the confession.
‘Yes, that’s right. I was very surprised when Inspector Halloran told me about it.’
‘Were you also surprised that there were no fingerprints on it?’
‘No. Selwyn was always spitting on it and cleaning it with his shirt.’
‘I’ve interviewed your brother, Miss Todd. I find the idea that the man I spoke to might be capable of writing anything at all, let alone a confession, absurd.’
The word ‘absurd’ startled Aggie. It signalled a change in Helen Lord’s tone. Aggie reacted to it with indignation.
‘You know next to nothing about my brother. You’ve spoken to him once. I imagine he was unco-operative. Of course he was. He’d just killed my niece.’
‘And your nephew,’ Joe said.
Aggie rallied. ‘Well, according to you, he was struggling with a corpse in my front room, and perhaps he was. I can’t explain why you believe Matthew was already dead, but …’
‘There’s something about the confession that struck me most particularly,’ Helen said firmly.
‘Oh?’
‘You said Selwyn could scratch out a few letters and the odd word that you’d taught him.’
‘I said that because it’s true.’
‘Me do bad. Them bad, but. Each of those words is among the words you taught him?’
‘I suppose they must have been.’
‘An odd selection to teach someone.’
‘Selwyn has been writing on that slate for 20 years, and I’ve been teaching him words for 20 years. I don’t think it’s in the least bit odd.’
‘How large do you think his written vocabulary might be?’
‘I have no idea. What is the point of these questions?’
‘Is that the first sentence you’ve known him to write?’
Aggie was getting flustered.
‘Why are you asking me this?’
‘Is that the first sentence you’ve known him to write?’ Helen’s repetition was calm and measured.
‘I’d hardly call it a sentence, but yes, I’ve never known him to string words together. As I say, no one’s ever been sure about the true nature of Selwyn’s intelligence.’
‘I don’t believe that for a minute, Miss Todd.’
Aggie reacted as if she’d been slapped.
‘How dare you talk to me like that, young lady.’
‘You wrote that confession, Miss Todd. I know you wrote it, because you weren’t able to forget rules that had been drummed into you, that have been drummed into all of us. There are two sentences in the confession. Each of them begins with a capital letter, and each of them ends with a full stop. The biggest mistake you made, though, was that comma. Them bad, but. Do you really want us to believe that Selwyn had a good grasp of punctuation?’
Aggie put her face in her hands. She needed to buy time. What, after all, did these people actually know? All right. Matthew had died a few hours before Rose. They knew that. She could still claim that she was protecting Rose’s name. She was certain they’d have no way of proving that Selwyn hadn’t killed Rose, perhaps in a rage after discovering that his beloved Matthew was dead. She’d insist that Matthew and Selwyn were close. She took her hands away from her face, breathed in deeply, and said, ‘Yes, I wrote that confession.’
There was silence in the room.
‘It was wrong of me, and it must seem callous to you that I’d do such a thing to my own brother.’
No one offered her any prompts.
‘I’ve probably committed a crime of some sort. I don’t care. What I’m about to tell you is the absolute truth. It’s difficult for me to say these things, because our family has a position in Port Fairy, and has had that position for several generations. This will destroy our family. I found Matthew’s body in the front room just when I told you I did. At first I thought he must have been asleep. I didn’t know what he was doing in my house at that hour. I tried to wake him, and when I realised that he was dead, I was terrified. I could see that he’d been strangled. Withou
t thinking, I rushed to the backyard to see if Selwyn was all right. Rose was there, just standing, looking at the house vacantly. “I killed him, Aunt Aggie,” she said. It was as if she was in a trance. “I killed Matthew. I’ve always hated him.” It all happened so quickly after that. Selwyn must have heard her, because he rushed out of his shed and hit her with the shovel. Selwyn adored Matthew. Then he just went back into his shed as if he’d done nothing. I know it was wrong of me, very wrong, but I wanted to protect the family as much as I could. How would Rose’s parents bear knowing that their daughter had murdered their son? I wrote Selwyn’s confession because I thought it would help you. He killed Rose, after all, so why not have him confess to both murders, and that way Rose’s name wouldn’t be sullied? I can’t tell you how Rose killed Matthew, or how she managed to get his body into the front room. She must have had help — her husband, I suppose. That’s the truth. It’s shocking and devastating and destructive, but it’s the truth. I can’t tell you how ashamed I am of what I’ve done. Everything is ruined. Our lives have been ruined.’
‘That’s quite a story, Miss Todd,’ Halloran said.
‘I thought I was doing the best thing. It’s a Greek tragedy, Inspector.’
NO ONE NOTICED the photographer in the front garden of the house opposite Mrs Cuthbert’s house. He fired off half-a-dozen quick shots and hurried back to the offices of the Port Fairy Gazette. News of the events in James Street had spread quickly through the town. Some people locked their doors, with stories of what had happened varying from Selwyn Todd having gone on a rampage to a Japanese assassin having come ashore from a submarine in the night.
‘Constable Adams will take the first shift watching the house,’ Inspector Halloran said. ‘I want Miss Todd to stay put.’
The four police officers were walking back to the station.
‘What a bizarre and extraordinary story,’ Helen said.
‘Well done catching her out on the punctuation, Constable. That wouldn’t have occurred to me.’
‘It wouldn’t have occurred to me, either,’ Joe said.
‘You have to hand it her, she’s fast on her feet,’ Halloran said. ‘Was there a single thing about her story that was convincing, do you think?’
‘She was making it up as she went along,’ Joe said. ‘You could drive a truck through the holes in it.’
‘Let’s break this down into simple parts,’ Halloran said. ‘We’re certain Matthew Todd was killed sometime just before or after midnight, and that he wasn’t killed at Aggie Todd’s house. There was sand residue under his shoes, and there was no trace of it in Aggie’s front room. In other words, he didn’t walk into that room.’
‘So whoever killed him carried him there,’ Joe said.
‘Yes. Todd was a fit young man. It would have taken someone of equal or greater strength to strangle him. There’s no bruising on his body, no damage to his hands, and nothing under his fingernails. He was taken by surprise, from behind, and dispatched quickly. I’d say that Aggie Todd is not a suspect in the murder of her nephew. I’d say that pretty much eliminates Rose Abbot as well, despite Miss Todd’s view to the contrary.’
‘Unless she had an accomplice,’ said Joe.
‘And Miss Todd kindly offered us one, didn’t she? Rose’s husband, John Abbot.’
‘He hasn’t come into town?’ Helen asked.
‘Rose drove the truck into town this morning, so he wasn’t able to come in. Constable Manton is with him. Abbot runs a dairy farm, and the herd has to be milked. It’s tough on Abbot. Manton telephoned earlier to say that he was shattered. He’s our next port of call.’
‘So,’ said Helen, ‘we’re assuming that Matthew Todd was killed by a person or persons unknown. What about Rose Abbot? Is there any possibility that Selwyn Todd is responsible for her death? If he isn’t, it means that Aggie Todd is lying about having seen him do it. Why would she do that?’
‘Because she did it herself?’ Joe asked.
‘I reprimanded Constable Adams for dismissing her as a suspect,’ Halloran said, ‘yet I can’t see her wielding that shovel. And why? Why would she hit her own niece in the face with a shovel?’
At the police station, Constable Filan’s wife, Anne, had left a bowl of stew and vegetables for Selwyn. Constable Adams, who’d been given instructions to occasionally open the slot in the cell door and talk to Selwyn, had grown bored with the exercise. Selwyn never replied, so he left him alone — which was why he missed Selwyn’s signs that he needed the toilet. A pan had been left in the cell, but Selwyn had never used a pan. He grew distressed, and began to make a noise. By the time Constable Adams responded, the smell that assaulted his nose when he opened the slot told him that Selwyn had soiled himself.
When Inspector Halloran and the others entered the police station, they were met with the pleasant odours of mutton stew, which was sitting, covered with a cloth, on the front desk.
‘Constable Adams!’
Adams came in from the cell.
‘Why hasn’t that been taken out to the cells?’
‘I’m sorry, sir. Mrs Filan just delivered it. I was going to take it out, but the prisoner has had an accident.’
‘What kind of accident? You were supposed to be checking on him.’
‘I mean, he’s shat himself.’ He paused and added, ‘Sir.’
Halloran was livid.
‘He’d have signalled that he needed the toilet. Where were you?’
‘I was in here, sir. I didn’t hear him.’
‘This is completely unacceptable.’
For the second time that day, Helen felt sorry for Constable Adams. It was humiliating to be dressed down in front of other officers.
‘You’ll have to clean him up.’
Adams recoiled.
‘How?’ he said weakly.
‘I’ll help,’ said Paddy Filan. ‘There’s a hose in the yard. It’ll be the simplest solution. He’ll need another change of clothes.’
‘Perhaps Constable Adams can donate his uniform,’ Halloran snapped.
SELWYN KNEW THAT he was in trouble. When two men came into the room, he began to whimper.
‘It’s all right, Selwyn,’ Paddy said. ‘We’re going outside again, into the yard.’
Constable Adams was holding his breath as he and Paddy put a hand under Selwyn’s arms and lifted him to his feet. Selwyn didn’t resist; he knew what would happen if he didn’t do what he was told. Outside, Paddy indicated that he wanted Selwyn to undress, while Fletcher Adams attached the hose to a tap. When Selwyn saw the hose, he began to shake, but he took his clothes off and stood with his eyes squeezed shut. His body was quivering. Paddy turned him gently around, and again saw the welts on Selwyn’s body.
‘Okay, Fletch, turn the hose on. Gently, gently.’
‘Christ, I hate this fucking job. Halloran fucking hates me, the pay is lousy, and here I am, hosing the shit off some fat fucking retard.’
Filan took the hose from Adams.
‘I’ll do it. You go back inside.’
This seemed to Paddy to be the best way of avoiding punching Fletcher Adams in the balls.
‘That suits me,’ Adams said. ‘I can’t wait to get back to Warrnambool.’
Halloran hadn’t had time to give Adams his instructions to watch Mrs Cuthbert’s house. Adams found a note to that effect beside the stew. He was to go to the house immediately, and someone would relieve him at midnight.
‘Fuck,’ he said. Before he left, he lifted the cloth off the stew and, using his fingers, picked out chunks of the meat. It was good, so he helped himself to some more. Selwyn’s meal was reduced to mainly potatoes and gravy and carrots, with a couple of small pieces of meat.
‘MR ABBOT, MY name is Detective Inspector Greg Halloran, and this is Sergeant Joe Sable and Constable Helen Lord, from Homic
ide in Melbourne.’
John Abbot was sitting in the kitchen. His eyes were red, and he looked more than usually dishevelled.
‘We’re very sorry about your wife. We need to ask you some questions, if you feel up to it.’
Abbot nodded. The back door opened, and Johanna Scotney came into the kitchen. Her eyes, too, were red and puffy from crying.
‘Johanna works here,’ Abbot said dully. ‘I’ve told her she can go home.’
‘You can’t do the milking on your own, Mr Abbot. I’ll wait outside.’
‘No,’ Abbot said. ‘I’d like you to stay.’
Johanna was reluctant. Helen Lord said that it would be fine, that anything she could add might be valuable.
‘Some of these questions might be upsetting, Mr Abbot,’ Joe said. ‘We need as much information as we can get in order to find out who took your wife’s life.’
‘If I find out,’ Abbot said, ‘I’ll kill the cunt.’
‘What time this morning did Rose leave to go to her aunt’s house in Port Fairy?’
‘Stupidly early. The old battle axe telephoned at some ungodly hour, five o’clock or five-thirty, and told Rose that she had to hightail it over there.’
‘Miss Todd telephoned Rose?’
‘Yes. I picked up the phone and handed it on to Rosie as fast as I could. I didn’t want to talk to that bitch of a woman at that hour of the day.’
‘Do you know of anyone who might want to hurt Rose?’
‘What? No, of course not. It was that bloody simpleton they keep at the bottom of the garden, wasn’t it? People have been ringing here all day saying it was him.’
‘We don’t know for sure who killed your wife, Mr Abbot. I’m sorry I have to ask you this, but did you leave the farm at any time last night?’
Abbot stood up.
‘What kind of question is that?’
‘The kind that will help us eliminate you from our inquiries, Mr Abbot.’
‘Are you insinuating that I murdered my wife?’
Joe remained calm.
‘Rose wasn’t the only person murdered last night, Mr Abbot. Matthew Todd died several hours before Rose, so we need to know where you were and when you were there. Please, sit down.’