The Trials of Sally Dunning and a Clerical Murder

by Miller Caldwell

  ‘No Mum, I did not move them. Honest, I did not move them.’

  Elsie got off her knees, stood up and sighed. ‘I don’t like this. Let’s see what else is missing. Let’s start from the attic.’

  She entered the top floor and saw the snooker table with all its balls in place but on the blackboard a score was almost rubbed out. Sally never used the blackboard. She stared at the writing through her reading glasses perched on her nose.

  ‘Sally have you been playing snooker with anyone recently?’ she asked turning round with an accusing face.

  Sally did not like to see her Mum upset but her answer was clear. ‘No, I don’t play with anyone, not since Dad died.’

  ‘I thought so. But the...see...’ She pointed to the scoreboard at the smudge. She looked around the attic. Everything else seemed in order.

  Elsie’s thoughts turned to the other worldly possessions. She returned to the bedroom and opened her jewellery box, the one which she never took out of the house, let alone took on holiday. She opened the box. Instead of two rings, her engagement ring and her wedding ring, only the wedding ring was present.

  ‘Sally, my engagement ring is missing too. Now I’m definitely sure we’ve been burgled.’

  ‘Robbed? We should tell the police,’ said Sally nodding and shaking at the same time.

  Elsie was in agreement. ‘Yes, I just can’t explain these things going missing in any other way.’

  Elsie returned to the lounge and sat down. She dialled the police and a civilian took the details of her missing items.

  ‘Missing, no they are not missing,’ she said shaking her head. ‘They’ve been stolen.’

  At 9.30 a.m. the next morning, almost on the dot, a car arrived at their front door. Constables Barnett and Eddy got out and knocked on the front door lion-head knocker.

  ‘Good morning. You rang about a burglary,’ said Constable Barnett.

  ‘Yes, I have no other explanation.’

  Constable Eddy’s notebook was already in her hand poised to take any information coming her way.

  ‘Can you say when this happened?’ she asked setting the parameters.

  ‘I suppose it must have been when we were on holiday in the Mediterranean. After all there’s always been someone in the house since then. And we’ve been back ten days already.’

  Constable Eddy was scribbling at pace. ‘Let me clarify, you said you lost a necklace, a box of comics and an engagement ring.’

  ‘Yes, that’s all I’ve found missing, so far. Oh and my daughter’s necklace, too. It’s not around either. I nearly forgot that.’

  ‘If you do find anything else missing, do let us know won’t you?’ asked Constable Eddy.

  ‘Apart from the box of comics, it looks like they went for things of value,’ said Constable Barnett.

  Elsie moved to the edge of her seat. ‘No officer, the comics are very valuable.’

  Elsie could see the officers doubting her assertion that the old comics were nothing other than emergency loo paper.

  ‘You see they are all the Beano magazines, from the first issue up to the 6,000th edition. They must be worth something.’

  Constable Barnett nodded and seemed to have a lemon sweet in his cheeks.

  ‘Oh, and in the attic, there’s a snooker table.’

  ‘Don’t tell me they took that too. They’d need a lorry to move that,’ said Constable Barnett.

  ‘No, not the table but the score blackboard, it has some rubbed out scores.’

  ‘Writing perhaps?’ asked Pam Eddy.

  ‘Maybe it was, but Sally does not use the board. She’s not good at writing or figures. I suspect the thieves played a game or two. It must be their rubbed out scores.’

  Constable Eddy’s eyes looked round the large lounge. Nothing seemed to have been disturbed but the evidence must still be checked.

  ‘We will send in the scenes of crime officers. No one should go to the attic until they have been there. In fact I suggest you go out after they arrive. They will do a thorough search for evidence. You understand?’

  Elsie looked at Sally. Her gaze seemed to be on the neck of Constable Barnett.

  ‘It just does not make sense why this happened. Are you sure it’s a robbery?’ asked Elsie opening her cupped hands.

  ‘Didn’t you say you had been away? Sally said you were in Malta. Is that not so?’ queried Constable Barnett.

  ‘Yes, we were away for a fortnight but the alarm was on when we left. Well, I think it was on. Anyway, it must have been because it was on when we returned, and I turned it off. I haven’t seen any damage to doors or windows. Perhaps I left a ground floor window open. Oh, I just don’t know, I really don’t understand what has happened.’

  ‘I appreciate your doubts. But there’s more than enough evidence to investigate and hopefully we will bring the culprits to trial,’ said Constable Eddy returning her diary to her breast pocket.

  Sally opened the door and walked outside. She stood staring at the lawn and the police car. She too did not know what was happening.

  ‘My daughter tells me large sums of money have been taken from Sally’s account. Well, she withdrew it herself but it’s not clear what she used the money for other than give it to her new friend, the accountant.’

  ‘The accountant?’ repeated Constable Barnett with a sniff to catch a runny nose. She produced a white handkerchief. She blew her nose as she began to speak. ‘I...I think Sally should come to the station with us.’

  Elsie gasped. ‘Oh dear you don’t think this is all Sally’s fault, do you?’

  ‘No, no but she may be able to give us a better picture of when all this started and we’ll see if she can recognise some of our local offenders,’ said Constable Eddy putting her diced hat on her head and securing it in position with both hands.

  At 2 p.m. that afternoon, Sally found herself in the same area Mr. Pattison had occupied before her. Sally was led along the passageway by one of the investigating officers in the case. They sat in the centre together awaiting the trail of potential suspects. Sally’s remit was clear. Identify anyone she knew and especially the accountant, if he was there. She was told twice that the glass wall was one-way and she could not be seen. Instead of pacifying Sally, it was an unusual glass and therefore a challenge for her to experience.

  The six men and six women arrived and turned right to face the unseen Sally.

  ‘Well, do you recognise anyone, Sally?’ asked the police officer whose pen and paper were to hand.

  Sally took her time. She stared at each figure for some time. She wanted to tell the truth as best she remembered. She hoped by doing this that the police would be pleased. That was her focus. But she knew she would fail. She did not know everyone. ‘Yes, No 3 is the baker from the bakery across the road,’ she said confidently.

  ‘Good. Anyone else?’ he asked, smiling out of her sight.

  ‘Number seven I’ve seen in the post office but I don’t know her name. Oh I know the next one, that’s my friend Donkey.’

  ‘Which number please?’

  ‘Donkey is number 8 and that’s ...yes, that’s Bones, Number 1. He’s my accountant.’

  The officer drew a breath. Things were taking shape in his detective mind. ‘Your accountant?’ he clarified. If ever there was a less suitable banker it was Bones, he thought. ‘Do you give him any money?’ he asked in view of Sally’s description of number 1.

  Sally looked at the officer. How could he know she had brought him money, was her thought. ‘Yes, but only when he asks for it.’

  ‘I see, and how often does he ask?’

  Sally looked at the ceiling. ‘About every two or maybe three weeks.’

  ‘And is it a ten pound note you give him each time?’

  Sally looked cross. How could £10 make a good profit? ‘No, five hundred pounds each time,
’ she replied. ‘The money is doing well in China.’

  ‘Hmmm China, you say?’

  ‘Yes, that’s what Bones told me.’

  The officer now had the full picture. What he needed now was a statement from Sally. He invited her into an office near the front desk.

  ‘Now, can you write down what you told me about your banker, Bones?’ he asked handing over a pen and an official notepad.

  Sally looked at the pen and paper. She looked up. ‘No, I can’t.’

  ‘You can’t or you don’t want to?’ he asked in a gruff voice.

  ‘I won’t cos I can’t write well.’

  The officer realised just how damaged her mind must be and started to write each sentence by sentence recalling what he had heard Sally say earlier. After each sentence he looked up at Sally and asked if it was true. On each occasion, Sally gave a clear YES.

  ‘Now I need you to sign down here to show you agree with what I have written. The pen was given to Sally who took it and she carefully wrote her name slowly and without any flamboyance.

  ‘That’s fine. Okay, Ms. Dunning, you are free to go now.’

  ‘Is that all I have to do? Can I see my friends now?’

  ‘You can see your friends anytime but Donkey and Bones are no longer your friends. They are about to be locked up,’ the officer said as he found Sally holding onto the table staring at the wall, trying to comprehend what she had just heard.

  On Saturday it was Sally’s birthday. Her brother Alec and Becky had arrived late the previous night. They slept in till 9 a.m. but Sally was up with the lark. She was keen to make the most of her special day. She was quick to open the cards which lay on the kitchen table. She was a child at heart and had always been so. She placed the cards on the Welsh dresser in her own special order of sister on top shelf and mother and brother on the second row. No one questioned her reasoning. Then she had some breakfast eating two boiled eggs and four brown toasted soldiers.

  By 9.15 a.m. the family had gathered in the kitchen. Becky was keen to find out what recent events had been happening but perhaps not so early on her fifty-fourth birthday.

  Her mother gave her a new jersey and she kissed her expressing her thanks. She immediately took off her jersey and donned her new birthday one with seagull motifs. Becky handed over one hundred crisp pounds in £20 denomination notes tucked into a fruit and nut chocolate bar cover then gave her a little something else. It was not packed and it squeaked in front of Sally as Becky handed it over.

  The family could see Sally was unsure about this present. ‘You will find it very useful, I assure you, Sally.’ She came and gave Becky a hug and a kiss.

  ‘Thank you for my chocolate bar, the money and this squeaky cat, Becky.’

  Alec knocked on the table. ‘Happy birthday to you...’ and the family joined in singing the traditional verse.

  ‘My present for you is not here yet. I’ve still to collect it. So we leave in ten minutes. Who’s coming with me? Becky put her hand up but Elsie, who was in on the arrangement, said she had too much to do at home. Sally put her hand up, jumping in the air as she did so.

  ‘Of course you’re coming Sally, it’s your birthday present and we need you there,’ said a smiling Alec.

  With her teeth brushed and her hair groomed Sally joined her brother and sister in the Land Rover and Alec set off heading away from town. It was a cross country route which ended up on a minor farm road.

  ‘I’m going to ride a horse,’ said Sally getting excited.

  ‘No, not today, something quite different,’ said Becky.

  The car drove to the front door of the farm and the farmer’s wife greeted them.

  ‘And you are Sally. Happy birthday young lady.’

  ‘I’m fifty-four today,’ she said.

  ‘My, that’s the best age to look after a....well...come this way and see.’

  They followed her to a barn and entered. Inside there was a straw box with a bitch feeding her young.

  ‘They look so cute,’ said Becky. Sally was unsure and grabbed her brother’s hand.

  ‘What are they?’ asked Sally.

  ‘From good Schnauzer stock, they are miniature Schnauzers. Very friendly and loving. With a good strong bark to warn off strangers.’

  ‘Just what you need Sally,’ said Alec.

  ‘Yes, to warn off strangers,’ she replied.

  The farmer’s wife took some selected dogs from their mother. ‘Well you see five puppies in total. Two are already accounted for but you can choose any of these three. This one is a male and the other two, female.’

  ‘Well Sally. It’s to be your dog. Which one do you like?’

  ‘I like them all.’

  ‘So do I but I can only afford one,’ laughed the wealthy and smartly dressed Alec. ‘These are pedigree dogs, you realise Sally?’

  Sally ignored her brother and went down on her knees. One of the puppies approached and sought loving attention. She picked up the pup. ‘This is the one I want,’ she said triumphantly.

  ‘Now you know why I gave you a squeaky cat, Sally,’ said her sister.

  ‘Yes, so she can play with the cat.’

  ‘Yes, and the squeak will be fun too,’ said Alec.

  And so Molly joined the Dunning family, took up residence and barked at the postman. This gave the family additional security but the mystery how burglars had entered still remained.

  At police Headquarters the evidence was gathering pace. Harper & Pierpont auctioneers informed them that the comics had not been sold. In fact the comic auction in London had not yet been arranged. They were happy to give the comic stock back to the police as evidence. It would however take a few days for a courier to return them. Mr. Mike Harper, the manager, also recalled the woman who had brought the comics to his firm and so was identified as a crucial witness. Mr Harper was brought to the police station by appointment and shown a book of ‘mug shots.’ He had no difficulty in recognising the comic seller as Donkey.

  The police rightly assumed the jewellery had been sold on eBay and that meant a raid on the gang’s house. From their home they took away their computer to trawl for emails to eBay. They also discovered a large amount of drugs; indeed a concoction of an alarming amount. Amphetamines, LDS, acid drops, marijuana and a collection of legal highs. They were found in the toaster base, behind the loo, in a pillow and to the delight of the police, more drugs were spread out on Donkey’s bed for the entire world to see. Police estimated the street value to be several thousands of pounds. On a card found under the settee seats their client group requiring drugs was listed and named. Both Donkey and Bones were now in police custody in separate cells and as a consequence, charged with the possession and supply of category A and B drugs.

  Meanwhile the Crown Prosecution Service received the police report and was informed about further charges likely to follow. A new folder was not required by the Crown. The alleged two local offenders still had room for several blank pages in File number 4. Their names filled three chubby files gathering dust as they lay on the shelf.

  Constable Pam Eddy returned to see Sally in her home. She informed her that she would be regarded as a vulnerable adult for court purposes. This status would give her some protection from the Judge against bullying questioning from the defence agent. However Sally would have to provide evidence against Donkey and Bones which might incarcerate her old ‘friends.’

  This was a worry for Sally. It was difficult for her to differentiate their good acts from those she was being told about. Elsie was informed there would be a plain police vehicle stopping by the house from time to time just in case bail was granted to the accused. As a vulnerable adult, the police would prioritise her case and respond promptly and appropriately when deemed necessary.

  11

  Romance

  The following weekend, Elsie drove Sally to Bolton
where Sally’s agent had arranged for her to perform at the Octagon Theatre. When they arrived, Eric and Beth welcomed them while Sally and Tom stood back and stared at each other awkwardly, as if they had never met. They were met by Carolee Meredith who took Sally backstage while Elsie joined Eric, Beth and Tom in a box overlooking the stage.

  ‘Are you feeling okay, Sally?’ Carolee asked switching off her iPad as they walked together.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Look up there.’ She held Sally’s arm and guided it to the box. ‘There’s your mother. She’ll enjoy the performance I am sure. You will be with her after the performance. Okay?’

  ‘Yes, after the performance.’

  Elsie waved to Sally and then so did Tom’s parents. Tom stood up and waved more enthusiastically.

  Carolee moved more slowly. She hoped Sally’s Malta performance would not be a one-off impromptu performance because the Octagon’s rows were filling and behind the curtain the musicians of the Bolton Symphony Orchestra were tuning their instruments. The formality of the occasion and the paying numbers attending were the concern of Carolee. But not for Sally who sat in the wings oblivious to the audience’s murmurs, accepting the orchestra’s preparations and awaiting her turn to perform on stage.

  She sat motionless as the concert proceeded. Carolee noticed Sally did not clap when each piece of music finished. She presumed nerves had got to her.

  ‘Would you like a glass of water? Good for calming nerves.’

  Sally looked straight at her agent. ‘Water, no. Anyway I am not thirsty.’

  Carolee smiled a reassured grin. It was so different to have Sally on her books. A straight talking client was always welcome to her, used to the idiosyncrasies of some of her more demanding authors.

  As the interval approached and many of the audience’s thoughts turned to an interval drink in the bar, Sally took to the stage. She was told to go to the centre where there would be a gold spot on the floor. That was where she had to stand – mid stage. She marched on with her head lowered to find the spot. As soon as she found the exact location, she turned a military left turn to face the audience then raised her harmonica to her lips, catching the conductor by surprise as the applause had not quite died down. She began playing the Elizabethan Serenade. The conductor held his baton across his chest. The orchestra was silent till the first twelve bars had been played. Then the strings joined in and Sally continued to play. The audience saw no false start. Instead it seemed a pleasant and planed approach. It was certainly not intended but the conductor’s smile encouraged any frowns on the players’ faces to disappear. This five minute piece of music received a firm hand clapping. Rather than await the applause to die down or even remember to bow, Sally made for the wings. Her first performance was over. The audience was talking. It seemed to have gone down well.