Purple Death

by Brian L. Porter

  “Who Maggie? Who said it would make him ill?”

  “I don't know,” she sobbed.

  “You must know Maggie,” said Clay. “You don't go out and kill someone on the say so of a complete stranger. Do you really expect us to believe that for more than a second, or do you want me to think you did this all on your own. If you want to take the blame and go to prison for the rest of your life then so be it?”

  “It's true, honestly. I don't know who he is. That is, I…”

  Maggie Prentice was becoming lost for words. She was incriminating herself further with almost every sentence that came from her mouth. That was in part due to the practised interview technique of the officers carrying out the interview, and partly due to her own ignorance of the criminal way of life and her inability to keep quiet. Luckily for the detectives she hadn't asked for a solicitor so far. When she did the interview would have to be halted to allow her to consult with her legal counsel before continuing. Connor was determined to get all the information he could from the woman before that happened. As yet of course, this was strictly an informal interview and as yet Maggie Prentice had not been cautioned, so technically the question of legal representation hadn't actually arisen.

  Connor decided to go in for the kill.

  “Listen, Mrs Prentice, I'm going to make you a one time offer. Turn it down and I won't give you another chance. If you tell me all you know about the man who's behind this, I'll make sure you're charged as an accessory and not with the actual murder itself, as long as you tell me the truth. If you don't then I guarantee you'll be charged not only with this murder but also the five in Richmond.”

  “But, you can't,” she shouted, panic in her voice. “I've never even been to Richmond, let alone killed anyone there. I thought it was a joke, honestly. Well, not strictly a joke perhaps but just a way of making him ill, so that he'd know it was all to do with the past.”

  “So tell me the truth,” urged Connor, “and why and how killing David Arnold has got anything to do with happened to William Prentice all those years ago.”

  Maggie Prentice was by now clearly on the verge of breaking down completely. Tears were streaming down her face, she sniffed, and Lucy Clay passed her a tissue from a box that lay on the table between them. Prentice took a moment or two to wipe her eyes, blew her nose, then took a deep breath before continuing.

  “James was a good man,” she went on, referring to her late husband. “He was going to carry on his mother's fight for justice for his father when he got back from Scotland. He'd read everything to do with the case and he agreed with his mother that the Stride man or Stanley Miller must have killed his father. The law wouldn't make them pay, so he was determined to do it himself. Whichever one of them was responsible would be brought to justice. He was determined to do it.”

  “So that justifies killing innocent people does it?” asked Connor.

  “James wouldn't have killed anyone Inspector. He just wanted the truth to come out, that's all. When he died I sort of took on the mantle of trying to get at that truth for a while, but I wasn't any good at tracking down clues or evidence or stuff like that. I forgot all about it until a few weeks ago when I got a telephone call out of the blue from a man who sad he knew who'd killed my father-in-law and that he could help me get even. He said I owed it to the family, to my husband, my mother-in-law, and most of all to my father-in-law.”

  “Ok, but where does David Arnold fit in to all this?”

  “It wasn't David Arnold himself Inspector, that's why I believed the man when he said he just wanted to make him sick for a while. I didn't really think he wanted to kill anyone. David Arnold's grandfather was one the men who gave Terence Stride an alibi for the night of the murder. He was a travelling salesman who was in town that night and when he came forward to say that he'd been drinking in a pub with a man who matched Stride's description and later picked him out from photographs the police had no choice but to release him as they said he couldn't have got from the pub he was supposedly in and get to the murder scene in time to kill my father-in-law. Thomas Arnold went back to Liverpool and probably never gave the case another thought, even though he'd probably given a murderer an alibi. He died a year later, and David Arnold's father passed away last year, so the trappings of guilt had to fall on David.”

  “This is madness,” said Sefton, breaking his silence at last. “You can't go around killing or even trying to maim people just because you think they're related to someone who gave an alibi to the man who you think killed your father-in-law. The law cleared Terence Stride, so you have no right to become judge, jury and executioner.”

  “The law let him go free, and that gave me and my family the right.”

  The officers looked at each other, as the realisation hit them that Margaret Prentice might just be delusional, and the prospect of an insanity defence became a possibility.

  Suddenly Prentice fell silent, and before Connor, Clay or Sefton could ask her the name of the man who had telephoned her and set the whole ball rolling, she took a deep breath, leaned back in her chair and said:

  “Excuse me, but should I be saying all this to you on my own? I mean, shouldn't I have a solicitor or someone present to help me? I think I'd rather not say any more for the moment thank you.”

  The moment was gone. Connor had gambled and lost, for the time being. He'd return to Margaret Prentice shortly. She seemed to have forgotten his offer of a few minutes earlier. He would try again with her solicitor present. A good lawyer would surely advise her to cooperate in order to lessen the charge again this client. He spoke into the recording machine that stood at the side of the room.

  “Interview terminated at two-forty. Inspectors Connor and Sefton and Sergeant Clay are leaving the room, awaiting arrival of suspect's solicitor.”

  The three officers rose and left Maggie Prentice sitting in the interview room alone with her thoughts. She could wait. They knew they'd got her. It was only a matter of time before the truth began to unravel.

  Another Brick in the Wall?

  Giles Evans-Bailey looked to be exactly what he was; a young and ambitious country solicitor with aspirations to greatness that were as yet unmatched by his legal abilities. Just starting out on the long road that would constitute his legal career; he'd sat talking with Maggie Prentice for over an hour before leaving the interview room to consult with the detectives.

  “My client is prepared to speak with you again,” he said to Connor, who'd been impatiently pacing up and down the corridor of the police station while the client/solicitor conference had taken place. “She has appraised me of your offer to her before I became involved in the case and despite my disquiet at your having conducted such a lengthy interview without my client having access to legal representation, I have informed her that it would be in her best interests to co-operate with your enquiries.”

  “Mr Evans-Bailey, first of all, your client was merely helping us with our enquiries in an informal situation. She was not under caution and it wasn't until she incriminated herself by her own admissions that we became factually aware of her direct involvement in the murder of an innocent man. My offer to her still holds strong. A long as she is honest and open with us and tells us what we need to know in order to apprehend the person behind the killing of David Arnold and other victims in Richmond I will ask that she be charged with a lesser offence than she might otherwise have been charged with.”

  “Thank you Inspector. I'm sure my client is grateful for your consideration. Now, if you wish, Mrs Prentice is waiting?”

  Maggie Prentice appeared to have shrunk when the detectives re-entered the room. She had sunk into her chair and looked every inch a beaten woman. Whatever psychological dysfunctions might be at work in her brain she was fully aware of the gravity of her situation, that much was certain.

  Connor, Clay and Sefton retook their seats and this time Giles Evans-Bailey was present sitting at the side of his client. His inexperience made him no less a threat to the poli
ce investigation as he could quite easily advise his client to say no more at any time during the interview and that would do little to help catch whoever was behind the killings. This time round Connor took the initiative and began the questioning of his one and only suspect.

  “Now Mrs Prentice, I'm sure your solicitor has told you that co-operation is in your best interests”

  The woman nodded.

  “All I want from you at this stage is a name; the name of the man you say called you and who got you to deliver the fatal chocolate to David Arnold. You can tell me later how he got the aconite chocolates to you and exactly how you got David Arnold to eat one or more of them, though I think I already know the answer to that one. For now, I just want that name. If you aren't prepared to give it to me then the deal is off, and you'll be charged with the murder of David Arnold and with complicity in the five murders that have taken place in Richmond. It's your choice Maggie. Take your time before you answer.”

  Maggie Prentice sighed and seemed to lose herself in thought for a minute. She leaned close to Evans-Bailey and whispered something in his ear. The detectives, though sitting just across the table from the pair were unable to her what she said. The solicitor was the next to speak.

  “My client will give you the name you request on condition that after she has done so you will ensure that she is afforded protection.”

  “Protection?” asked Sefton.

  “Yes, she fears that the man in question might try to arrange for some harm to come to her if he becomes aware that she has divulged his identity. She considers the man to be highly mentally unstable.”

  That's rich, coming from her, thought Connor to himself.

  “Don't you worry, Mr Evans-Bailey. We'll make sure that no harm comes to your client while she's in our custody. I can assure you of that.

  “Thank you Inspector Sefton.”

  The solicitor turned to his client, looked her in the eye and nodded.

  Maggie Prentice took a deep breath and allowed herself one last pause for thought before revealing to the detectives the one thing they wanted above all else at that moment.

  “He wouldn't tell me his name at first Inspector. He told me he knew everything that there was to know about the case and that it was high time someone was made to pay for what'd happened to William Prentice. The law had done nothing to find his killer, and now the killer's family were free to go about their business with no stain on their family names. Not only that but the people who'd ensured that the guilty went free were also free to go about their daily lives as though nothing had ever happened. He said that the witnesses and the legal professionals had lied and cheated in order to let the killer go free and that whether it was Stride or Miller who did the actual killing they were just as guilty in his eyes. I agreed with him because that was exactly the way my mother-in-law and my husband had thought, so I suppose it was easy enough for him to convince me. He told me that he had a way that we could use to make them all pay, so that William Prentice would at last be avenged. I replied that I wouldn't even listen to him if he didn't tell me his name. He could have been anybody after all, trying to trap me or playing some sick joke on me and the memory of a dead man. Eventually I convinced him that if he wanted my help, then he had to tell me who he was. That's when he finally gave me his name. You must understand that I've never once set eyes on him since this all began. I received my instructions by phone, and he made sure the chocolates were delivered to my shop just like any ordinary stock delivery. He always used a payphone so I couldn't call him back, and he said he would always call from a different place. He said he lived far from Richmond, though he didn't say where. Because of that he said that no-one would ever know where to find him. I never knew where or how to contact him. He would always call me. It was all so easy really.”

  “The name, Mrs Prentice, give us his name,” Connor demanded.

  “Oh yes,” she went on. “His name, Inspector is Andrew Forbes.”

  The name rang a bell with both Connor and Clay though they couldn't place it immediately.

  “The name is familiar,” was all Connor could say.

  “It should be, Inspector Connor,” Maggie Prentice said with an evil, leering grin that spread across her face. The madness was creeping back into her personality. Connor could almost see and feel it.

  “Andrew Forbes was the business partner of my late father-in-law William Prentice, and guess what? He was in love with my mother-in-law too!”

  Connor said nothing for a minute then nodded his head at the woman, rose from his chair and motioned for Clay to follow him. He turned to Inspector Sefton.

  “Please do me the favour of placing this woman under official caution,” he said. “The charge is accessory to murder.”

  Sefton nodded.

  Connor then turned once more to the woman sitting at the table.

  “Sergeant Clay and I are leaving for now Mrs Prentice. We'll check out what you've told us and believe me, if I find out you've lied to me, that charge will quickly be upgraded to one of murder in its own right, do you understand?”

  “I've told you the truth, Inspector. What you do with it is up to you.”

  “I have one last question,” said Connor. “Do you know the identity of the other Chocolate Woman?”

  “I'm sorry?”

  “The woman who delivered the poison to the victims in Richmond; do you know who she is?”

  “I have no idea at all Inspector. He never told me anything about what he was doing in Richmond, much less who was helping him.”

  They left her sitting there. In a few minutes Sefton would escort her to the charge room where the duty sergeant would begin the task of logging Maggie Prentice into the system and the long process of the legal machinery that would end in her trial and conviction would begin.

  Connor returned to Sefton's office, from where he called Charles Carrick in Birmingham to advise him of the latest breakthrough.

  “At last,” said Carrick into the phone. “Well done Sean. Now we're getting somewhere.”

  “I thought that as David Arnold died on your patch and that as this side of the investigation is very much yours, you might want to come down here and talk to her yourself.”

  “I think I might just do that Sean.”

  “I'm sure Sefton here will be only too pleased to transfer her into your custody if you want to get her up to Birmingham to be further questioned and where I would think she'll stand trial anyway.”

  “Yes, I think that would be a good idea. I'll speak to this Inspector Sefton in a few minutes after I've been and told my boss the good news. I presume you'll be heading back to Richmond now and going after this Forbes character?”

  “Too right we will,” said Connor enthusiastically.

  “Right, well I'll let you go then, and well done once again Sean. Now, is there anything else I can do at the moment?”

  Connor thought for a moment before answering, and then with a hint of levity in his voice he delivered his reply to Charles Carrick's question.

  “I think you should get your Sergeant Cole back from Liverpool, before his expenses get too high.”

  With Carrick's laughter ringing in his ears he replaced the phone on its cradle and within half an hour he and Clay were on the road once more, beginning the long journey back to Richmond, leaving Maggie Prentice in the capable hands of Inspector Sefton.

  Traffic Jams and Dead Ends

  The return journey to Richmond became an interminable grind for Connor. With Lucy Clay at the wheel of the Mondeo he had little to do but think about the case that at last seemed to be opening up before him. Soon after leaving the picturesque resort town behind he'd phoned the station and instructed Fox to search for the last known address of Andrew Forbes. There was nothing else he could do for now but wait, and his mood wasn't helped by the volume of traffic on the roads. Despite the time of year it seemed that every day tripper in the Southwest had converged on Penzance that very day and were now all heading home at the sa
me time as he and Clay needed to get back to town. Caravans, tourers, even slow moving tractors all appeared to be queuing up to create a log jam of hold up after hold up that even had the usually mild tempered Lucy Clay gritting her teeth with the frustration of having to keep slowing down and, finding scarce few opportunities for overtaking, the journey rapidly became one of agonising frustration.

  Connor turned his mind to thinking about the interview he'd just conducted with Maggie Prentice. They had what appeared to be some answers, but there were still many questions that remained. The local police in Penzance, having cautioned and arrested the Prentice woman, would keep her `on ice' until the following day when Carrick and Cole would arrive from Birmingham to conduct a far more intense and searching interview with the woman. Connor had to admit though, that he didn't think that Maggie Prentice knew much more than she'd already revealed. True, they would need to find out more of the intricate details of how she'd carried out the poisoning of David Arnold but that in itself would throw little light on the overall mantra of the case. Many things still bothered Connor. He could scarcely believe that someone had gone to all this trouble in order to murder what in most cases were distant or at least one or two generations removed relations of the original participants in the events that surrounded the death of William Prentice. Either the man behind the murders was seriously deranged, or there was a hidden meaning to the killings that had escaped the police so far.

  Lucy said little in reply to Connor's occasional grunt or short comments on the interview. She preferred to keep her eyes on the road and her mind on the business of avoiding piling into the back of an articulated wagon or a long stream of vehicles that would suddenly behave like a kamikaze snake as fifty sets of brake lights snapped on at the same time. Someone way up front had probably encountered another tractor!

  As they entered the third hour of the interminable trek home Connor's phone began to vibrate and ring in his pocket.