by Ann Purser
“Don’t touch me, Aurora Black!” shouted Gloria. “You may be the original Strong Woman, pushing bread dough around in here, but I could deal with you with one blow.”
“Very ladylike!” said Aurora, and continued to walk toward the shop door. “Get going, Miss Prentise. I suggest you stay away from my bakery in the future. I am not accustomed to being threatened with lying rubbish in my own home.” She paused and stood aside to make way for Gloria to leave.
“Oh my Lord!” said Gloria, stopping in her tracks, and looking out of the window. “See who we have coming to call? Or should I say, to the rescue? They needn’t have bothered. I wouldn’t have dirtied my hands touching you, Aurora Black! Open the door for them, won’t you? And there’s your friend from Farnden. Policeman’s fancy woman? Your little pal? Let’s see if they have stumbled on the truth for once.”
* * *
On their way to the bakery, Cowgill had told Lois the results of the postmortem, and they had discussed the possibility of a second person—a dissatisfied customer, maybe?—being involved in the well-planned murder of Sylvia. Someone had hoped to convince whoever found her that the silver necklace had strangled her. Quite clever, Lois had thought. She was actually strangled with gloved hands around her neck, the necklace tightened to breaking point to look like it had done the job. Then she was manhandled fully dressed, into bed, covered up so that anyone walking into the room would think she was asleep.
Yes, really clever, Cowgill had agreed with Lois. But nigh on impossible for one person on his or her own. There must have been two persons, working quickly and efficiently. Very strong, in both body and mind.
“And you think it might have been Gloria?” asked Lois, as they approached Brigham.
“Not sure,” said Cowgill. “What do you think?”
“I think you know perfectly well who killed Sylvia Fountain, and are biding your time until that someone gives him- or herself away. Right?”
“Not quite. There is one other piece in the jigsaw. One of the reception staff of the hotel has come forward with a sighting of Donald Black in the hotel that night. Her friend told her to report it, as it might be important, but she has only just done so. Terrified of the police, apparently. A pleasant woman, but not the brightest. She hadn’t thought anything much of it, as they were all used to seeing him around.”
“What? In the middle of the night?”
“Especially in the middle of the night, tapping at Sylvia Fountain’s bedroom door. Here we are, my dear. Let’s go straight in.”
SIXTY-TWO
“How convenient,” said Gloria sourly. “Quite a jolly little meeting, eh?”
“Not premeditated, I assure you, and please, Miss Prentise, stay with us for a little longer. But if you were thinking of making a run for it, I do have chaps stationed outside,” said Cowgill. “Now, as we are here together, perhaps I may ask Mrs. Black if she minds us looking for a few answers to questions I need to ask.”
“I don’t suppose I have a real option, do I, Inspector? Please sit down, anyway, and I hope it won’t take too long. I have to meet Milly from a train in Tresham shortly. She has had a day in London with her friends from the hospital.”
“Bless her,” said Lois. “Might be a good thing. Carry on, Inspector. We’re all ears.”
“First of all, I think I may assume that we all want to find the person who killed Sylvia Fountain in such a brutal and calculated way. She was throttled by strong hands and had a silver necklace tightened around her throat in an attempt to hide the real cause of death. The fact that it was a necklace from the Brigham Luxury Jewellery collection is not accidental. It was meant to point to one person.”
“But why kill my Sylvia?” said Gloria. “I can tell you truthfully, Inspector, that Sylvia was the kindest, most peace-loving person I know—knew.”
“It is a myth, I know,” said Cowgill, “that prostitutes are supposed to have hearts of gold, but in my experience, they need to be tough and sometimes ruthless. It is a dangerous profession. Now, question number one. It has emerged that Donald Black was seen in the hotel on the night of Sylvia’s murder.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Lois. “He may have been in the hotel, but it doesn’t mean he attacked Sylvia. Aurora, you wouldn’t think him capable of that, would you?”
“Um, well,” she replied, colour rising in her face. “I’m not sure, Lois. He was quite proud of looking fit and trim. He used to work out quite often. Good for business, he used to say, if I ever queried his spending a fortune on tittivating. So yes, he was wiry and strong.”
“Question number two,” said Cowgill. “Where were you that night, Mrs. Black? I know we have had your statement already, but indulge me.”
“Best to answer the inspector, Aurora,” said Lois.
“I have no intention of indulging you, Inspector, or my erstwhile friend here, Lois Meade. I was in bed asleep. I think I heard Donald’s bedroom door shut at some point, but I didn’t look at the clock. I expect he’d got out for a pee.”
“Question number three.” Cowgill smiled at them, as if in triumph. “At what time did you follow him, Mrs. Black, over to the hotel, finding him in the arms of one Sylvia Fountain?”
“What? Of course I didn’t follow him! I won’t deny that I hadn’t thought of it from time to time. He has tortured me for so long, humiliated me in front of others, but I had no wish to see my husband in flagrante delicto with a blonde whore.”
“There you are, then,” said Gloria, glaring at Cowgill. “The wicked sod killed Sylvia, his lover who had been so accommodating to him. She was a big girl. Very able and pleasant.”
“That’s probably why he liked her at first,” said Aurora. “Donald was quite short for a man, although he was quite handsome, some said. She probably made him feel tall, don’t you reckon, Miss Prentise? You are the expert on these things.”
“No need to be narky, Aurora Black,” said Gloria. “Now, Cowgill, what’s question four?”
“This one is for you. Did you talk to your cousin about the Blacks? Did you have any idea that there was big trouble brewing?”
“Oh yes. Donald was insisting Sylvia ministered to him alone. No other customers allowed. He had already told her she was the sole beneficiary in his will. He said he would pay her extra, but she was unwilling. She said he could be quite difficult at times, and she had no wish to be only his client. She told me lately that he had started saying he would leave his wife and marry her. But Sylvia was not keen, and in any case did not really believe him. He was very angry, she said, and she was in a quandary as to what she should do.”
“So you helped her to make up her mind?”
“No, Inspector. She decided herself. She was going to tell him to bog off and leave her alone. No more assignations.”
“Ah,” said Aurora. “That explains it.”
“Explains what, Mrs. Black?” Cowgill was beginning to wonder whether he should abandon the group therapy and question them singly.
“Explains why he was in such a foul mood that day. All day, he was.”
“Question number five: did he throw himself into the water at the Mill in remorse, do you think, Mrs. Black?”
“I haven’t said I think he had anything to regret. I wasn’t there, and knew nothing more than that he may have gone out at night. I went back to sleep. And yes, I was so used to his little ways that I made no comments next day and let him get on with it.”
“With what?” said Lois. “With falling into the water? With cracking his skull on the concrete edge? You were pretty cut up when you heard what had happened to Sylvia, and maybe saw your husband as her attacker?”
Aurora stared at her. “Lois! How could you? Of course I was. I never wished her dead. But nor did I want her as my best friend.”
Cowgill pounced. “So weren’t you quite pleased when you heard your problems with Sylvia Founta
in were solved in a way that had nothing to do with you? Exit Sylvia Fountain?”
“What are you suggesting?” said Lois. “That Sylvia and Donald were varying the fun and inadvertently caused her death? It happens. For God’s sake, Cowgill, wind this up and let us go home.”
Lois was red in the face with frustration. She had come to her own conclusion and was sure she could work it all out in detail if she could talk privately with Aurora.
Cowgill stared at her. “Very well, Lois. I shall be questioning you further one by one, and I hope we shall have some success. Thank you for your time today, ladies. It has been most useful. Don’t any of you leave town without telling me. Good day all.”
And he stood up, turned on his heel, and left them openmouthed with surprise.
SIXTY-THREE
Next morning, Lois walked down to the shop to fetch the papers and buy milk. She fancied going for a walk with Jemima to clear her head. Last evening’s events had left her muddled and unsure where the truth lay.
As always, Josie’s shop had become the centre of attention, especially as Lois walked in. Silence fell, and Josie laughed. “Morning, Mum. What can I get you? The baker has left some freshly made cakes, if you fancy one. Or doesn’t our Gran allow you to buy cakes?”
“The papers, please, and a bottle of milk. But I don’t mind waiting. These ladies were here first.”
The ladies, gossips all, melted away slowly, their business finished, and Lois sat down on the stool by the counter. “That was well done, Josie love,” she said. “I’m glad to have some time to think.”
“It’s Aurora, isn’t it? You are worried about how she’s going to face up to all this. But I wouldn’t worry. She’s quite a tough lady, I reckon. And Milly will help. What are you up to today? I diagnose depression, and think you should go for a nice long walk with Jemima.”
“You’ve read my mind. I am going to do just that. And, by the way, if you hear anything useful about Donald Black, let me know.”
“Forget it, Mum! The man was a pain in the bum, and won’t be much missed. Aurora will need your support, so concentrate on her. That’s my advice.”
* * *
The meadows by the river were cool and damp, and Lois walked uncaring through long, wet grass and squelchy moss as she threw Jemima’s ball for her and extricated her from the marshy bits. Reaching dry ground, she quickened her step and headed for the little bridge that led back to the village and home.
“Come on, Jeems,” Lois said, when they were both muddy and cold and had wet feet. “Let’s go and find Gran.”
* * *
Gran had made coffee for herself and Lois, and was looking forward to a quiet chat to see if her daughter would unburden herself and stop looking so worried. But as she was about to sit down, a shadow passed the kitchen window, and then there was a light tap at the door.
Lois, already sitting at the table, sighed. “It’s Aurora, Mum. Could you let her in? Is there enough coffee?”
“I have a good mind to say we are busy and can she come back later! But I suppose you wouldn’t want that.”
“No, quite right. Let her in.”
Aurora attempted a smile. “Sorry to interrupt, Lois, but I wondered if you can spare me a few minutes’ chat.”
Lois did not answer. She thought she was sure that it was going to take a lot more than a few minutes. “Of course, Aurora. Come and sit down,” she said finally.
“If you don’t mind, Lois, I’ll take my coffee through to the sitting room,” said Gran. “It’s my favourite antiques auction programme on the box.”
“Oh, am I driving you away?” said Aurora.
Lois was tempted to answer yes, she was, but she held her tongue. When Gran had left them, Lois looked straight at Aurora and said, “Right, now let’s have the truth. What exactly did happen the night of Sylvia’s murder? We have been pussyfooting around for long enough. Whose idea was it? Yours or Donald’s?”
Aurora stared at her. Then she began to get up from her chair.
“Sit down!” said Lois. “You came here to tell me the truth, I hope, and ask for my help. The best thing I can do for you is to hear you through an account of exactly what happened. And, if necessary, why it happened.”
“And then you promise to help me?”
“If I can, of course I will. Now, when did you tackle Donald? He was threatening to leave, to go and live with Sylvia, and maybe changing his will to make her sole beneficiary. Am I guessing right? But she wouldn’t have him, and he didn’t believe her. Am I right?”
Aurora nodded. “He taunted me, saying I had no idea how to love him, and Sylvia was more to him than anyone he’d ever met.” Tears were streaming down her face, and Lois silently handed her a tissue.
“So you talked about it. Carry on from there. And buck up. You’ve a lot to get through. Do you want more coffee?”
Aurora shook her head. “It was like a shaft of sunlight through the gloom, Lois. I suddenly saw a clear way out of it. After all, he was threatening to take away my life. All our possessions, including the house and bakery, were in his name, and he claimed he had altered his will in Sylvia’s favour. I had argued about this, but he always laughed it off, as if it was not important.”
“Very convenient. So what was the clear way?”
“That Donald should do the whole thing. He was angry and upset that she had turned him down, and said that if he couldn’t have her, he’d make sure no one else did. I did not even mean to go over to the Mill with him. I knew a good way through a back entrance, and would follow to make sure he bullied her to clear out for good. I had a key, anyway, in case I wanted to leave perishables in the hotel fridges.”
“Donald was to do the whole thing, but you went over to the Mill with him and it went wrong?”
“He had arranged with a chum up north to sleep in his bed, but leave in the small hours after he had been seen with the covers pulled over his head. Donald told him he had wife trouble. Then, blow me if he didn’t bottle out at the last minute! Said he couldn’t do it, and was calling the whole thing off. I had planned it carefully, down to the last necklace thing. So anyway, he said he would only do it if I would come with him. It was getting late and dark, and I knew he would never be able to screw himself up to it again, so I said yes, I would help him. We went separately to the Mill, and I think one of the reception staff saw me. She was wandering around, looking for her friend. Donald was outside Sylvia’s door, and said he too thought the receptionist had seen him. Not a good start, and it set Donald into blubbing and saying he was going back.”
“Blubbing?”
“Yes, he was a terrible coward and cried like a baby if anything serious happened to him. Well, this was serious! Anyway, we got there, and I told him to tap on Sylvia’s door. When she opened it, I pushed him through into Sylvia’s arms and, much to Miss Fountain’s annoyance, I followed.”
“She was fully dressed, not ready for bed?” said Lois.
“We had an argument about that. After the accident, I was for undressing her and getting her into bed, so it would look more natural. But Donald refused to undress her. Misplaced sense of decency, I suppose!”
“Carry on, but don’t glory in it, else I shall lose what shreds of sympathy I have left for you.”
Aurora stared at her. Then she stood up, pushing her chair back with a rasping sound. “If that’s how you feel, I won’t trouble you any longer. I thought you would give me some advice and help what to do next. But no. I was wrong.”
“You are not wrong. Please sit down, Aurora. It is not easy for me to listen to details such as these, from my good friend and companion in walks with my dog over the water meadows. If it helps you, I am ready to listen. I don’t have to tell you what will happen next. Do I?”
Aurora shook her head. “So shall I carry on? I would rather you had it straight, rather than some garbled versio
n cobbled together by the police.”
Lois managed a smile. “I think we can trust Inspector Cowgill to get it right,” she said.
“With your help,” said Aurora. “Shall I carry on?”
“So she pushed you out, or tried to?”
“Yes, she was holding a paper knife, or some such, and came at me aiming straight at my face. I grabbed anything I could get hold of, and it was unfortunately her neck. I held it tight with both hands—gloves on—until she dropped the knife, and then I squeezed to make sure she had given up. I did not mean to strangle her, I swear to that, Lois. It was self-defence, however you look at it.”
“It’ll be Cowgill you’ll have to convince, but I must say you went to extraordinary lengths to disarm her. What was Donald doing all this time?”
“Blubbing, as I said. He got between me and the door, so I couldn’t escape from Sylvia. It was me or her, in the end.”
“Then what?”
“When we realised she’d stopped breathing, I had to take charge, and came up with the plan. Get her into bed, and make it look as if she had been strangled with the silver necklace. Donald was in such a mess that he didn’t realise I had gloves on, and he hadn’t. Lucky for me!”
“And next morning, did you discuss it over your toast and marmalade?”
“Lois! Please! You asked me to give you an accurate account, and I have. But there is one thing more. I was aware of the shocking thing we had done, and terrified what would happen when someone found Sylvia. And then, and then . . . I am not asking you to keep this to yourself, because I know you wouldn’t do anything so wicked. But I hope you will tell it straight to Cowgill.”
“There’s this other thing, isn’t there?” said Lois “You made sure you left no fingerprints, but Donald did. Right? And you were hoping against hope that nobody saw you either going into the hotel or leaving it. You were rightly guessing that suspicion would immediately fall on him. And you wanted him gone. Gone away from you for ever. No more humiliation, no dishonest scams, defrauding innocent people. No more Donald Black, ever.”