Too Many Cooks

by Marina Pascoe

  ‘Donald gave it to me. In the pub … ʼe said it was for all the trouble I’d gone to and for being such a nice friend to ʼim on board the ship. But now ʼe’s gone and so’s the other lovely young gent. Where can Donald be, Mr Bartlett? I didn’t believe ʼim – I even laughed when ʼe said that things from Egyptian tombs were cursed and evil fell on those who interfered with them. I said there was no such thing as curses … but now, well, it looks like poor Donald was right.ʼ

  Boase handed the ring back to Bartlett. The older man held it up in front of Sheila’s face.

  ‘See this? I’ll keep it – looks like it’s caused enough trouble already.’

  ‘Oh! Mr Bartlett – I wish you would – I really don’t care if I never see it again.’

  Sheila was dabbing her reddened eyes with Boase’s handkerchief.

  ‘Boase, I need to speak to you – outside.’

  The two men stepped outside the office.

  ‘I can’t arrest her, Boase. I haven’t got anything.’

  ‘Well, she’s wasted a lot of time, sir. She’s concealed information.’

  ‘Yes, I know, but I don’t think it’s enough. I’m letting her go.’

  ‘Sir, you can’t – Greet will go mad.’

  ‘I realise that – but it’s my decision. I believe her somehow and, if I’m honest, I might be a little bit worried for her.’

  ‘Worried, sir? Why?’

  ‘Because, Donald was worried someone was trying to kill him, he had a really valuable – no, priceless – ring. Romanov was worried for him – and now I think I’m worried for her. Let her go, Boase. But watch her – for her own sake.’

  Boase knew Bartlett was usually right on things like this and he argued with the older man no further.

  At seven o’clock Archie Boase was knocking at the Bartletts’ front door. Irene opened it, accompanied by Topper who had barked loudly to inform that a caller had come.

  ‘Archie. Hello – come in.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Irene, I can’t stop – my dinner will be on the table when I get back. I just wanted to look in and ask about this birthday party that your father mentioned.’

  Oh, yes. It’s a girl I know from the St John Ambulance. You know I help out there once a month, well we met about six months ago. Her name’s Jane Cornelius. She’s ever so nice – she comes to help her mother. I think they’re quite well off and her mother wanted to give a special party for her birthday at the house. They live in a big place out at the sea front. Anyway, I’ve … we’ve been invited, if you’d like to come?’

  ‘Irene, I’d love to come with you. Thank you. When is it?’

  ‘Saturday – sorry it’s a bit short notice. Would you call for me, say, at eight o’clock?’

  ‘I’ll be here. Thanks, Irene. I must dash.’

  Boase put his arms around Irene and kissed her. He could stay like this for ever, he thought. Leaving her at the door, he made his way across the small front garden and out through the gate. He waved and Irene blew a kiss.

  Sheila Parsons had thought that Falmouth had a really nice feel to it – much better than London she had decided. Now though, she was afraid. She wasn’t too stupid not to realise that she might be in grave danger – but she could look after herself, she’d been doing so since she was fourteen. But she couldn’t tell Jim how worried she was. She couldn’t involve him – he was such a lovely man. No, he mustn’t get mixed up in this. Well, it wasn’t like she’d killed anyone was it? Nevertheless, there was someone who wouldn’t hesitate to harm her and that person was always in the shadows. More than once she’d glanced behind her – just to be sure. Yes, she had to be sure if she was going to take care of herself.

  The evening of the party arrived and Boase was early. He dawdled along the route to the Bartlett house but was still half an hour before he said he’d call. He knocked and waited. Caroline Bartlett came to the door.

  ‘Hello, Archie, you’re early.’

  ‘Oh, I know, Mrs Bartlett – I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Don’t worry. Come in – I’m afraid you might have a little wait. And stop calling me Mrs Bartlett, it makes me feel about a hundred.’

  ‘Sorry, Mrs Bartlett – oh, I mean, Caroline.’

  ‘Come into the garden, Archie. Would you like some lemonade?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  Boase fiddled with his cuffs, unaccustomed to evening dress, but he’d put up with it. He didn’t want to let Irene down.

  ‘She’ll be down in a minute, Archie. She just finished making herself a dress last night and thought the buttons were all wrong – she’s just altering them.’

  Boase sat and stroked Topper. He was so excited at the prospect of spending an evening with Irene.

  Ten minutes later the door opened and there stood Irene. She wore a long dress of blue satin with a cream shawl and, of course, the golden bracelet given to her by Boase. She wore her hair up and fastened at the back with a blue comb. Boase stood up and walked to the garden door. He stepped inside.

  ‘Well, do I look all right?’

  Boase didn’t speak.

  ‘Archie?’

  ‘Oh, yes, you look beautiful, Irene. Absolutely beautiful.’

  ‘Well, let’s go then, shall we? Bye, Mum – say good night to Dad when he comes in, will you?’

  ‘Yes, good night, dear, good night, Archie – have a lovely time.’

  Chapter Seven

  Jane Cornelius hugged Irene on the doorstep and shook Boase’s hand.

  ‘Hello – I’m so pleased you came. There’s loads of food and dancing, it’s going to be such a lovely evening. Come in, both.’

  The girl led the way through a very large hall, passing an ornate staircase and the three continued until they reached an enormous orangery. Music was being played by a band from the Magnolia Club and a young woman was singing on a stage. Boase had never seen anything like this before – he thought there must be over a hundred guests here. A waiter came forward with a silver tray bearing drinks. Irene took one and Boase stared hard at the tray.

  ‘Go on, Archie – it looks lovely, take one.’

  Boase took a glass and sipped it. It was surprisingly nice.

  ‘What would your father make of all this, Irene?’

  Irene giggled and slipped her arm through Boase’s.

  ‘He’d absolutely hate it.’

  ‘Yes, I think he would.’

  The evening continued and Boase danced with Irene. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be with the most beautiful girl in the world.

  ‘Are you hungry, Archie? There’s loads of food on those tables over there.’

  ‘Only if you are, Irene.’

  The pair went across to the tables. Boase looked puzzled.

  ‘I’m not sure what all this is, Irene.’

  ‘Nor me. Well, look – those look like something with cheese in, yes, look they’re little pastry things. And here – what about one of these?’

  Irene held out her hand to Boase. It contained one half of a hard-boiled egg with something curious filling the gap where the yolk should be. It was the something curious that worried Boase.

  ‘Go on, Archie – look, I’ll try one first.’

  Irene bit into the egg.

  ‘It’s really nice – I don’t know what’s in it but it’s delicious – go on.’

  Boase took one, made a face, and put the egg into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed.

  ‘Mmm – not bad. I might have another of those.’

  ‘There you are, see – and you weren’t going to try it.’

  Irene reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

  At about ten o’clock, Jane Cornelius came over to the couple.

  ‘I say, you two have you met Alice and Sam?’

  Alice Vyvyan and Sam Jackett were introduced.

  ‘Alice does so much for mother with her jumble sales – I’m sure you and Irene have met before, Alice?’

  ‘Yes, we have – nice to see you again, Irene.’
>
  ‘Hello, Alice, hello, Sam.’

  Jane indicated a door across the hall.

  ‘Some of us thought we’d like to play a game. Will you join in?’

  ‘Well … what sort of game?’

  Boase felt uncomfortable.

  ‘We’re going to play Memory Tray. It’s so funny; we have a tray of objects and someone has to look at them and then it’s taken away and one of the items removed. When it returns, you have to guess what’s missing. Oh, come on – you’ll love it.’

  ‘Yes, let’s, Archie – you should be good at that, you’re always solving mysteries.’

  Boase couldn’t see the harm and so he accompanied Irene into a side room where there was a large table in the centre and several chairs placed about. About twelve people came into the room to play. In the orangery, the music continued and the sounds of laughter and singing rang through the house. As one guest prepared the tray ready for the game, loud shouting could be heard from the front hall.

  ‘Please let me come in – I’ve been invited. Yes, but I’ve lost me invitation.’

  A woman’s voice could plainly be heard – and one which sounded familiar to Boase.

  Irene tugged Boase’s sleeve.

  ‘What’s happening, Archie?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Boase stood and went out into the front hall. A young woman was remonstrating with the butler who was refusing admittance. That woman was Sheila Parsons. Boase approached them.

  ‘Sheila? What are you doing here?’

  ‘Well, look who it is.’

  Sheila Parsons was clearly glad to see a friendly face. Hearing the disruption, the hostess came to see what the noise was about. The butler spoke.

  ‘Miss, this young lady quite clearly does not have an invitation to your birthday party …’

  ‘Archie, do you know this girl?’

  ‘Yes, well, sort of.’

  ‘Well, in that case, miss – why don’t you stay for the rest of the party?’

  ‘Thank you, I’m much obliged. Thank you.’

  Boase thought how kind Jane Cornelius was – it wasn’t surprising that she got along with Irene, they seemed very similar.

  ‘Well, we’re just about to play a game – why don’t you join us?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know as I’m very good at games, Miss …’

  ‘Nonsense, we’ll show you what to do – it’s easy, and such fun.’

  The group returned to the room where the other guests were seated, and the tray awaited them.

  Two rounds of Memory Tray were played with great hilarity. Boase won immediately and was rewarded with a packet of cigarettes, which, since he didn’t smoke, he handed to Sheila Parsons. The tray was prepared for the next round, the linen napkin placed on top of the objects. Sam Jackett took his seat in front of the tray, and the cloth was removed. He studied the items hard. The tray was removed from the room and the young man sat quietly with his eyes closed trying to remember.

  Everyone in the room was shouting out the names of the objects in an attempt to aid the young man in his bid to win the cigarettes. Presently, the tray was returned and laid on the dining table. The cloth was removed. At once, there were gasps around the room. Irene screamed and another girl collapsed onto the floor. An object had been removed but another was in its place. Boase stood up and walked to the table. He looked at the tray. There, right in the middle of the objects, was a dismembered finger.

  Bartlett lit his pipe.

  ‘That was some business last night, Boase. Maybe you could tell me more of what went on now – I know that Irene was in a terrible state when you brought her home … she hasn’t slept all night.’

  ‘Well, sir. As soon as I realised what happened, I sent for the police so that they could keep everyone in the house – as you know, they’re still interviewing everyone. I’ve just come here to collect you so we can go over to the house and go through the place. I really don’t understand it, sir.’

  ‘Well, you did right to bring Sheila Parsons in – it seems that everywhere that woman is there’s trouble. I’ve just spoken to her. She reckons someone was chasing her along the sea front last night and she just ran up to the house because she heard the racket and saw people in the front garden so thought it was the safest thing to do. When you recognised her and the hostess invited her to stay for the evening, she thought she was safe. But, she can’t explain about the finger and maintains it can’t be anything to do with her. What we do know is that she’s a complete liar and can’t be trusted on anything. You can bet your boots that she’s more involved in this Cook business than she’s letting on.’

  Boase thought for a moment.

  ‘Well, she could have been chancing her luck – just heard the party and tried to get in. You’ve only got her word that she was being chased … although – that might not be as mad as it sounds, sir. Do you remember me telling you I saw Sheila Parsons in Killigrew Street?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘There was a man waiting on the corner of Albany Road – and I thought afterwards that he looked like the man who was loitering outside here.’

  ‘So, what are you trying to say?’

  ‘Well, maybe he’s following her.’

  ‘Maybe he’s following you.’ Bartlett grinned for the first time in days.

  ‘I don’t know. Greet’s arranged to have the finger examined … he’s really angry, sir.’

  ‘Yes, Boase – now you’re stating the obvious. He wants us off the case and I don’t blame him. He’s just been in here with a face like a funeral. What could I say?’

  ‘Well, sir, let’s go. Sheila seems happy to be in the cell – she’s convinced she’s in danger so why won’t she tell us what’s going on?’

  ‘She’ll have to now – we’ll have another go when we come back.’

  The two men left the police station and drove to the Cornelius house.

  Jane Cornelius sat holding her mother’s hand.

  ‘Oh, Inspector Bartlett, this is such a shocking business. I don’t know who could have done such a terrible thing.’

  Mrs Cornelius dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.

  ‘Well, it looks like everyone who was here was spoken to last night and this morning and not one of them is likely to be a suspect. Are you sure no one else could have got into the house?’

  ‘I’m sure. Since I’ve been a widow my brother has been very kind – he’s made sure the house is very secure and we have several staff living here too. They were all on duty last night and it would be impossible for anyone to enter unseen.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Cornelius – I’m sorry this is so burdensome for you. Jane – tell me more about taking the Memory Tray outside. What happened when it was taken from the room to remove an object?’

  ‘The tray was taken outside into the small hall and the person with the tray would remove an object and probably put it into their pocket, wait a few moments and then return it to the room. That’s all really.’

  ‘So, did you take it out yourself?’

  ‘Yes, I was the first to take it out. I did just as I have explained to you.’

  ‘Was there anyone watching you?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. Everyone who wasn’t playing was in the orangery – you can just about see the small hall from one end of the orangery but no, no one was near the room we were in.’

  ‘Was it well lit in the hall?’

  ‘Not really. There was no need. There was just a dim lamp on another table – we didn’t need much light just there.’

  ‘Well, can you show me where this happened, Jane?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Jane led Bartlett and Boase into the small hall and showed them the two tables. One where the tray was placed during the game and the other across the hall with a small lamp on it. Boase looked around the hall. It looked very different with the sunlight streaming through the little window at the end. He looked behind him and could just see the orangery at the other side of t
he house. There was a small staircase next to the little window. Boase walked over to it. There was a door under the stairs.

  ‘Um … would you mind if I open this, Jane?’

  ‘No, please do.’

  Boase opened the door. There was nothing inside, just one small wooden shelf. He closed it again and returned to Bartlett.

  ‘I don’t think we need to hold you up any longer, Jane. I’ll just say goodbye to your mother then we’ll be off.’

  Bartlett and Boase walked across the road and stood watching the sea. The air was warm and several people were bathing. Boase pulled a paper bag from his coat pocket and opened it to reveal two slices of fruit cake. He offered the bag to Bartlett.

  ‘Piece of cake, sir?’

  ‘No, thank you, Boase. We should get back now. We must get something from Sheila Parsons.’

  The two men reached the police station and went into their shared office.

  ‘Get Sheila up here, Boase – and we’re not taking any nonsense this time.’

  Sheila Parsons was brought into the office and Penhaligon gave her a cup of tea.

  Bartlett pulled out a chair.

  ‘Sit down, Sheila. Look, we can’t keep messing around like this – at least one man has been murdered and possibly two. Come on now. Tell us what you know – you’re involved somehow and you need to tell us.’

  ‘All right – I’ll tell you what I know but you need to ʼelp me. I think that, since Donald gave me that ring, my life ʼas bin in danger. It’s like this, see, there’s a man – the one that was following me when I left the pub. It looks like ʼe knew I ʼad the ring, well, you ʼave now, but ʼe was very interested when ʼe ʼeard Donald and Desmond talking about it – and about Egypt.’

  ‘We were told that you tried to sell the ring to Mr Bosustow, the jeweller at Bendix and Hall.’

  ‘All right – yes, I did. I needed money – but, more than that, I thought if I got rid of it then I’d be safe. Jim said ʼe’d take care of me and I didn’t want ʼim to get in trouble just cos of me. I don’t want nothing to ʼappen to ʼim, ʼe’s such a luvly man.’

  Boase stood up.

  ‘So, who is this man? Describe him.’

  ‘E’s about thirty, with greasy black ʼair – and ʼe’s got a gold tooth.’