The Coopers Field Murder

by Wonny Lea

  ‘We knew if we left my mother’s body in the house it would be no time before the police came looking for us – so we had to move it. Frederick thought we should remove everything from her, including her false teeth and her nightdress, and wrap her in a blanket before deciding where to leave the body.

  ‘We then considered dressing her, but not in her own clothes, and I wrote out a list of clothes we would need to do that together with the sizes. The worst part was when Frederick went to purchase the clothes and left me in the room with my dead mother – can you imagine how horrible that was for me?’

  Martin and Matt stared at Madame Lefevre in total disbelief. She really did expect them to feel sorry for her!

  ‘He was gone for over an hour, and when he came back we checked everything only to discover he hadn’t bought a bra. Apparently the shop assistant had helped him with all the purchases, but she was taking longer than he wanted and so told her not to bother with the last item.’

  Charlotte was now leaning back on the bench and relating the events with no more emotion than if she had been talking about a trip to the races.

  ‘Just after Frederick got back, we heard my aunt moving about upstairs so our plans to dress my mother in clothes that couldn’t be traced to her changed, and Frederick just wrapped her up in the blanket he had brought from the car and carried her out. I made sure the walking cane that was now in two pieces and my mother’s leather clutch bag were not left behind – she wouldn’t have gone back to France without those.

  ‘It was tipping down with rain and we were both drenched and didn’t really know where we were going, just somewhere off the main road. I have no reason as to why, but something took us to Bute Park and we drove along a road, one I didn’t even know existed, and then Frederick veered off the road and across a field.’

  ‘We got her body out of the car – well, at least, Frederick did, as I find lifting anything more than a glass quite an effort. I put the blanket we had used to carry her, together with her nightdress and her false teeth, in the M&S bag after Frederick had taken the new clothes out. The thought of touching her dead body and putting the clothes on her was making me feel sick but as it happened I was spared the trauma.’

  Matt shook his head and found it hard to believe that the timid looking woman sitting beside Martin was capable of such inhuman behaviour to other people, even to her mother, but appeared at all points to expect sympathy for herself.

  ‘Why was that?’ prompted Martin.

  ‘The headlights of a van beamed across the field and for a moment we thought we had been seen but the van didn’t stop. It was enough though for us to decide to just leave the clothes in a pile at my mother’s feet and just get the hell out of there. It really was quite exciting in a macabre sort of way.’

  ‘Exciting? You call dumping your mother’s dead body in a field and leaving her there naked to rot exciting?’ Matt could barely contain his disgust, but Martin silenced him because there were other things the DCI wanted explained.

  ‘We were fairly certain of the identity of the body we found in Coopers Field within hours of the discovery, but there were a few things that didn’t make sense,’ he said. ‘We were led to believe that Madame Sheldon had seen your mother in the back of your car outside this house after she had been reported missing. We now know that Madame Sheldon didn’t actually see Mrs Mansfield, but just believed your husband when he told her that you were both waiting for him to pick up the papers. So that’s one thing we have clearly explained.

  ‘The clothes were a bit of a mystery to us, but unfortunately for you the till receipt was still with the bundle you left and gave us such details as the owner of the card used to purchase them – one Monsieur Frederick Lefevre.’

  Charlotte responded to this. ‘What an idiot. Using the only credit card that we have left, because it’s supported by my mother’s regular payments – using that instead of getting cash – he’s not just a hopeless addict, he’s also an idiot!’

  Martin ignored the short outburst and continued on to the question that had vexed him the most. ‘The real stumbling block for us was when we were unable to match the DNA from the body with that of your mother. When Miss Forrester reported her sister missing we took a routine DNA sample using hair from the silver-handled hairbrush she left on her dressing table, but when it was examined in relation to the body there was no match.’

  If Martin and Matt already considered Madame Lefevre to be strange they now thought she was an absolute raving lunatic.

  She let out howls of unnatural laughter, and the first words they were able to decipher were ‘and it’s worth a small fortune,’ and then ‘So that’s where we left it.’ Martin suggested that she calm down and explain to them what she found so amusing.

  ‘The thought of you lot trying to match my sister-in-law’s DNA to that of my mother,’ she gloated. ‘Still don’t get it, do you? One of the things my husband took from his brother’s wife’s dressing table was a solid silver hair brush, designed by the famous Parisian silversmith Antoine Perrin and manufactured by Christofle. It is worth a serious amount of money – and you lot thought it belonged to my mother!’

  ‘Believe me, Inspector, if my mother had owned anything like that we would have relieved her of it years ago – along with all the other treasures we persuaded her she no longer needed. I must have left that brush on my mother’s dressing table when I got out a pen to write the list for the clothes.’

  Her laughter was now hysterical and Martin let her carry on. He was grateful to have the mystery of the DNA clarified, and with such a comprehensive confession, duly recorded by Matt. Martin made a call to one of the numbers he had programmed into his phone.

  ‘Lieutenant Beaumont,’ was the reply.

  ‘This is Detective Chief Inspector Martin Phelps from South Wales Police, we spoke yesterday,’ Martin reminded him.

  ‘Yes, I remember, and I take it from this call that you are in my country and things are going according to plan,’ came the response.

  ‘For the moment I have one woman who at the very least will be charged with perverting the cause of justice, but we are expecting her husband to return home at any time and I am not sure how he is going to react to the news that his wife has described in detail how he killed her mother! I could do with some back up.’

  ‘Consider it sorted.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Who Gets Shot?

  Martin had barely finished thanking Lieutenant Beaumont when the sound of a powerful car, being driven at high speed, came into earshot and within a matter of seconds it had come to a screaming halt at the front of the house. If only it was the backup he had been promised – but for the French ‘boys in blue’ to have arrived at that moment they would have had to be mind-readers, not to mention time travellers.

  Remembering Madame Sheldon’s comment about Monsieur Lefevre’s driving being too fast for her liking, there was little doubt in Martin’s mind about who had just slammed the door of his car and presumably was just about to enter the house. Martin tried to consider all the possible ways in which Frederick Lefevre would respond when he realised that his wife had opened her heart, if indeed she had one, and with dire consequences for him.

  DCI Phelps knew that Madame Sheldon was in the house and although the housekeeper had not heard Charlotte tell the detectives the whole story she would have heard enough to realise that her employers were in some way responsible for Mrs Mansfield’s disappearance.

  Would she consider it her business to confront Frederick Lefevre? Martin rated the woman as quite astute and felt fairly certain that she would not, but he was much less certain about how Charlotte Lefevre would react when she saw her husband.

  The three figures waited in the garden, looking like something out of a French farce – but only in the context that the plot was highly incomprehensible, because it certainly wasn’t funny.

  After a couple of minutes Matt asked Martin if he wanted him to go inside and make sure that it wa
s Monsieur Lefevre who had arrived. In response Martin shook his head and suggested that the longer they waited for Lefevre to come outside the more chance there was that Lieutenant Beaumont and his team would have arrived and be around to help if things got difficult.

  There was nothing, from what was known to them, to suggest that Frederick Lefevre was a violent man. Not even the description given by Charlotte about the way in which her mother died did that. She had painted a picture of an angry and desperate man, but not of a violent murderer.

  Yes, his actions had undoubtedly caused the death of Daphne Mansfield, but any good lawyer would be able to prove that his plan had been to take her back to France – and that it was not in his best interests to kill her.

  She was arguably less valuable to them dead than if she were alive, because while she was still living they were able to live on her income. There were probably assets that could be sold after her death, but given the level of gambling that appeared to be out of control, those assets would not last long. Martin could imagine a clever barrister telling the court that there was no way in which his client could have known the silver globe at the end of his mother-in-law’s cane was loose. It was something she had used for years and had always appeared quite sturdy.

  The barrister would tell the jury how devastated the couple were when they realised that such a gentle blow to Daphne’s head had caused her death. Up to that point there would be a reasonable case for accidental death, but the prosecutors would have a field day when it came to motive. The Lefevre’s only defence for what came later would be for their barrister to claim they had simply panicked.

  Martin thought that if the couple had contacted the police immediately they may well have got away with a verdict of accidental death. Explaining the elaborate plotting and the bizarre actions that followed would be different and something out of a defence counsel’s nightmare.

  They would know from the recording Matt had made of Madame Lefevre’s account, that her husband had been using the cane to threaten Mrs Mansfield. Martin wondered if the Crown Prosecution Service would consider that to be enough for them to be looking to apply a charge of manslaughter. Additionally the couple would be facing charges of conspiracy to pervert the cause of justice and then there was theft – not to mention the fraud and embezzlement that was already under scrutiny in France.

  Martin would be asking Lieutenant Beaumont to ‘look after’ the couple, pending arrangements for them to be extradited to the UK for trial on whatever charge the CPS decided. It wasn’t something he had ever done before but he was sure that between the two of them they could manage the situation appropriately.

  ‘Madame Sheldon is coming out now,’ observed Matt. ‘But there’s no sign of Frederick Lefevre.’

  Walking towards the group, but deliberately blanking Madame Lefevre, who was now seemingly beneath her contempt, the housekeeper spoke only to Martin and Matt. ‘Monsieur Lefevre arrived home about five minutes ago and I told him you were in the garden with Madame, but instead of coming to see you he chose to shut himself in the study. I don’t think he’s there now because I am sure I heard him walking about upstairs. He must have gone up the side stairs and in to a room that is used as a dressing room and walk-in wardrobe. If he had come back out of the study and up the main stairs I would have seen him.’

  ‘Did you tell him the nature of our business?’ asked Martin.

  ‘I just said that two detectives from Cardiff were here to ask about the possible disappearance of his mother-in-law.’

  ‘And what was his response?’ questioned Matt.

  ‘He asked if Charlotte was out here with you and I told him that she was. That was all that was said, and then he just shrugged his shoulders and went into the study, closing the door behind him.’

  At that moment the phone rang from somewhere in the house and Madame Sheldon walked back to answer it.

  As her footsteps retreated they all became aware of the sound of heavier footsteps walking towards them and they turned, in unison, to see the smiling face of Monsieur Lefevre. Martin realised that until then he had only had a mental picture of what Frederick Lefevre looked like, none of the people who had spoken about him had ever described him. For some reason Martin’s image had been that of an averagely built Frenchman, whose dark hair would be streaked with grey and white – but the real life figure was very different. Monsieur Lefevre was well over six foot tall and would have weighed in several stones above Martin’s fighting weight.

  There was not an ounce of fat visible on him and he looked extremely fit. Martin could immediately see that he would have had no trouble lifting the body of Daphne Mansfield. His most striking feature was a shock of greying, auburn hair, and the countless number of freckles he had on his face and arms. Madame Sheldon had said he could be a charming man, and as he came forward with a smile and an outstretched hand Martin could easily imagine how some women would still find him attractive.

  ‘Welcome to my home. I assume English is the language of the moment,’ he said. ‘Madame Sheldon tells me you are here regarding the possible disappearance of my wife’s mother. How can I help?’

  Martin ignored the outstretched hand and played for time with a protracted introduction of himself and DS Pryor, but he knew what had to be done and he proceeded to give the appropriate caution.

  ‘Monsieur Frederick Lefevre, I am arresting you in connection with the death of Mrs Daphne Mansfield. You do not have to say anything, unless you wish to do so, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?’

  Lefevre looked away from the detectives and turned his gaze on his wife. Although Martin had more than a reasonable grasp of the French language, he had difficulty keeping up with the torrent of abuse that her husband now hurled in her direction. Martin was so busy concentrating on the translation that he missed the next, totally unexpected, movement.

  Taking two steps backwards, Lefevre pulled a gun out of his pocket, and pointed it in the direction of the terrified-looking woman sitting on the bench. The potential use of a gun hadn’t come into Martin’s thinking. He knew of course that the French Police were routinely armed with semi-automatic pistols, and he had handled one at a firearms convention in Glasgow. And it now looked as if Frederick Lefevre was menacingly pointing such a weapon at his wife’s heart …

  The slim shape of the gun had made it easy for the Frenchman to conceal it in the pocket of his jacket, and for the moment all Martin could do was watch and wait for Lefevre’s next move. Out of the corner of his eye Martin saw Matt inch forward and quickly ordered his sergeant to stay exactly where he was. ‘No heroics, Matt! I mean it – no heroics.’

  Matt stood perfectly still. He hadn’t really had a plan anyway, just a feeling that he should do something.

  With the gun still in the same position Lefevre supported Martin’s words. ‘That’s good advice, Detective Sergeant Pryor – you should listen to the Chief Inspector’s good advice …’

  He seemed to have more to say, but he was cut short by the words of Madame Lefevre. She either didn’t understand the precarious nature of her position or she simply didn’t care because her voice was neither pleading nor nervous. It was the same rasping sound the detectives had heard earlier and she spat the sentences out in her husband’s direction. Charlotte chose to deliver her words in English in spite of the fact that he had addressed her in his native tongue.

  She was presumably responding to what he had said as she replied. ‘I didn’t drop you in it, you did that for yourself. If you had waited to hear the whole story you would know I made it clear that my mother’s death was an accident – I should have said you had bashed her head in deliberately and got you locked up for life. So what are we going to do now? What’s your big master plan this time?’ she mocked.

  Martin glanced towards Matt and saw that they were each watching in nervous disbelief and both thinking tha
t if someone was pointing a gun at them they would probably be more respectful. With the same glance Martin just caught the appearance and almost simultaneous retreat of Madame Sheldon and he hoped she had not been noticed by Monsieur Lefevre.

  Martin needn’t have worried because the couple were continuing their spiteful conversation, and he thought it was bizarre that, although Frederick was holding the gun, it was Charlotte who seemed to have the upper hand.

  They seemed almost oblivious to the two detectives and continued raking over the miseries of their married life, with bitter accusations and recriminations bouncing between them, swapping from English to French depending on who was speaking.

  For a moment Martin’s attention was taken away from them as he thought he could hear the sound of an engine not too far away, but when he strained his ears he was disappointed because it was not getting any nearer. Now he couldn’t hear it at all. Where was their back up? How long would it take Lieutenant Beaumont and the cavalry to arrive?

  Martin didn’t have a clue how far away the French officer had been when the offer of help had been made, and now he was worried that the sudden arrival of a police car would prompt Lefevre to use his weapon. Suddenly Martin could imagine the arrival of police officers with guns similar to the one pointed at Charlotte, and the possibility of a shoot-out.

  Although Martin had these brief thoughts he had not missed one word or even an inflection that passed between the couple. When it came to character assassination Charlotte was proving to be something of an expert, though to be fair she had plenty of proven material on which to base her judgement of her husband. Gambling, embezzlement, and theft were amongst the vices she levied at him – but it was her accusations relating to his betrayal of her faithfulness, with his numerous love affairs, that turned the tables.