At about eight the next morning there was a knock then a rattle of the bolt on the girls’ cell doors.
“Time to wake up, ladies. DCI Johns wants to see you in about twenty minutes. He’s had your breakfasts sent up from his mother, Polly. Looks delicious,” Constable Waters said.
The door opened to Martha’s cell and there stood Helen looking tidy as usual.
“I’m starving,” Martha said. “I’ve probably lost ten pounds since this affair began. Hmm, maybe fighting crime works for losing weight.”
Helen was quiet so Martha thought she might still be a bit peevish about being locked up all night.
They walked down the hall to a hopefully delicious breakfast. Once they were alone in the interrogation room and Donna (Constable Waters) had gone to fetch their meals, Helen, facing Martha across a small wooden table, hurriedly said in a low voice, “Don’t mention the manuscript yet, okay?”
“Why?” Martha asked looking a bit perplexed by the necessity of withholding such an unconnected piece of information from the Chief.
“I want a chance to look it over. Please wait and pray no one has ransacked your car,” Helen pleaded in a whisper.
“What do you think it is?”
“I think it is something fantastically rare and…”
Helen hesitated but Martha pushed her saying, “Yeah, you think it’s rare? But what?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure if we should relinquish it yet.”
“No problem,” Martha said. It was the least she could do since she had thoroughly messed up last night with the instinct thing. “We will need to explain ourselves about being in The Grange last night. Johns is probably still absolutely furious with us.”
They didn’t get a chance to finish their conversation because the door swung open and there stood DCI Johns looking at them with a sour expression suggesting he hadn’t slept much last night. Over one eye was a small adhesive bandage. Both Helen and Martha cringed outwardly as it triggered memories of attacking the Chief.
“So, let me see,” he said as he entered the room and placed a covered plate before each of them, “contaminating a crime scene, assaulting an officer, removing evidence from a crime scene, and these are just a few of the things I’m charging you with as of last night.”
DCI Johns smiled and sat down, making himself comfortable on one of the other chairs at the table. He took a bite of his breakfast, a substantial piece of Constable Waters’ lemon bread.
Martha put her head in her hands and moaned while Helen’s face was more like a stroke victim’s in that she seemed completely unresponsive.
After a few long moments, Martha recovered herself and asked, “Removing evidence? What evidence did we remove?”
“You removed a laptop from Mr. Cousins’ house and took it to him at the hospital. You took a piece of cloth from its location on the garden wall. Removing it, handling it and basically contaminating the scene, did you not?”
“Was that wrong?” Helen asked. “We gave the cloth to you.”
“Yes, that was wrong!” bellowed Johns. “So wrong that I’ve given thought to charging you and requesting your bail be set at the highest possible limit. Your actions may have allowed for important evidence to be lost in a homicide case.”
Martha and Helen practically swayed in their chairs from Johns’ angry blast.
Martha recovered first and came back at him. “We get it but you’ve got to stop yelling. My head is swirling and I can’t think without coffee.”
He took a few deep breaths and glared at Martha and Helen. Then, making a noticeable effort, he continued more gently. “So, out of curiosity, why did you take the laptop to Cousins in the hospital and why did you go to The Grange last night?”
Helen and Martha exchanged glances.
Martha jumped in. “We picked up the laptop because Piers requested it when we visited him at the hospital and as for being in The Grange last night, Helen needed her briefcase with her laptop and her phone charger. Surely, that isn’t a crime to retrieve things that are rightly yours in the first place.”
“It is, Mrs. Littleword, in this instance, it most definitely is,” Johns said with a touch of sarcasm in his voice. “You see, the entire area is off-limits to anyone until we open it back up again to the public. If you had wanted something, you should have called the station and an officer would have been dispatched to accompany you into The Grange and help you locate your necessary items. As for the laptop, if I remember right, there was a piece of yellow tape across Piers Cousins’ study door. Hmm, that means ‘No Admittance’ to even the simplest of minds.”
The little muscle above Martha’s eyebrow twitched. Something deep inside her told her to not look up from her tea mug. Instead she took a deep breath and fought to maintain her composure. At that moment all she wanted to do was hit him right in the stomach but instead she lifted her chin and gave him a square look and a thin smile.
“Well,” she said quietly, “the yellow tape wasn’t there when we simple folk returned to Healy.”
“Yes, that’s right.” Helen joined in. “There wasn’t yellow tape anywhere. Martha is right. It didn’t occur to us we were doing anything wrong.”
Johns stared at them for a few moments. “You must have considered that the laptop was an important piece of evidence.”
“Then why didn’t you remove it the night Piers was shot?” Helen asked.
“We didn’t need to. Cousins had said during our interview at Healy the videos could be accessed from any computer as long as you had the web address and the password. He was supposed to come by the station the following day but of course he was shot. Couldn’t get the password until he was able to give it to us. So, the laptop was left in situ.”
“Then what difference does it make if we took the laptop to Piers?” they both asked in unison.
He stirred his tea. “Because, not everyone would have known that last bit and might have wanted to get hold of the laptop to see if they might manipulate the videos including Cousins.” This last bit was said while staring into his mug. Then Johns shot a quick look at both of the girls.
“It wasn’t us,” Helen firmly stated. “And I don’t think it was Piers either.”
“The point is, ladies, someone did. Your messing around in this case is about to get you in legal trouble and more importantly, if you don’t stop, dead.”
The room became still and full of unsaid thoughts.
“You may be taken with Cousins’ charm but we needed to see from those videos, if they were manipulated and when. Cousins is still on our list of suspects. As for the piece of cloth you found, it’s special. It can limit the amount of residue that remains on someone’s hands when they fire a gun. Someone has thought this out. They also knew you were going to The Grange. Who knew you were going to be there last night?”
The only two people they had told were Piers and Louis Devry.
“You want to tell me about what happened last night?” he asked gently.
Helen lifted the silver lid from her breakfast plate. The steam wafted up and she took in the lovely smell of sausages, a small quiche and a small bowl of melon. Nice meal for a jail. Martha followed suit. Johns watched both women delicately begin to eat.
Helen put her fork down after two bites. “We wanted to get my things from the library because…”
She stopped. Martha could tell Helen was struggling with something. Johns was waiting. Helen took a deep breath and a quick look at Martha. She seemed to make up her mind and began again. “Mrs. Thyme wanted us to deliver a package to Piers but it somehow got lodged under the car seat. We didn’t find it again until we got back to The Grange. Martha recognized that it might be the envelope Devry took out of Carstons’ hand in the video.”
“So, you’ve also seen the videos,” Johns stated.
They both nodded without words.
“Then what happened?”
“Well, I realized it must be something unusual from looking at it briefly in the car, bu
t I needed my gloves, glasses, and laptop to better study it. We put it back under the seat and found our way around the building. Everything was fine until we got into the library and the lights went out. This horrible voice came from nowhere and we panicked.”
“Horrible voice? What did it sound like?”
Martha came alive. “It sounded like someone talking into a voice modulator. Something kids play with to make their voices sound silly or creepy.”
“We crawled under the library table. Whoever it was had a flashlight that kept scanning the room. Martha pushed the bookshelves over which gave us a distraction to escape. We made our way out the side door on our knees and in the dark. Our cell phone gave us some light and we got into the janitorial closet where we called the station for help,” Helen finished.
Martha looked at Johns. “How did you get there so fast?”
“We were already on our way. We have The Grange electronically monitored now. The constable taking your call was asked to keep you as long as possible on the phone.” Johns was quiet for a moment. “You two must have been followed because it was the side door that signaled to us first. That was the one you entered through. It was the service entrance that signaled second which was about five minutes after the side door had signaled.”
The Chief screwed up his forehead, pursed his lips, then gave his verdict. “Someone is following you, girls. Someone either knows you have something they want or thinks you know something they wish you didn’t. Either way, you’re in it deep and it’s deadly.”
Chapter 24
TO SEND HIS POINT HOME, Chief Johns returned Martha and Helen to their cells. He told Constable Waters they would be spending another night and not to allow them visitors. Besides, he needed the bookish one to give him a briefing on the contents of the envelope which was supposedly stuffed under a car seat in Martha’s Mini Cooper.
He marched out to the back lot where they kept impounded vehicles. There was Martha’s green car. Foresight along with years of experience had told him not to leave anything behind last night. He had not only collected the Mini Cooper but had also picked up Helen’s briefcase.
The car door was locked but that wasn’t a problem for the person with the keys. He got them by threatening Martha with a strip search if she didn’t hand them over. That had been kind of fun, he thought to himself with a smile.
He dug under the driver’s seat. Nothing. Sticking his arm under the passenger’s seat, he felt something made out of material. He pulled it out and to his surprise found himself holding a red, lacy bra. Johns’ eyebrows arched quizzically as he held the item out for inspection.
“What on earth does that woman do when she drives around in her car?” he asked.
Thinking to himself he should probably have her monitored, he shoved the bra back under the seat and stuck his head down close to the floor board to get a better look. Nothing. Wait, there back behind what appeared to be a box of feminine hygiene products, he saw a manila envelope. She had definitely tried to booby-trap the hiding place.
He straightened up and opened the envelope. Peering inside, he saw a thick bundle of bound papers enclosed in a heavy plastic bag.
“Better get back to the nice-tempered one and see what she can make of this,” he thought to himself. With the envelope in hand, he walked back to the station musing on the red lacy number he had found, completely unaware he was being watched by two sets of curious eyes.
“ALISTAIR,” PERIGRINE SAID, “YOU KNOW how I get that itchy feeling in my palms when we’re close to something deliciously valuable?”
“Yes, P. I know exactly what that itch means.” Alistair lounged comfortably, legs crossed at the knees in his Bergere chair and reading an E.F. Benson anthology of ghost stories.
“Our dear Chief Inspector has something…” Perigrine studied the envelope dangling from Johns’ hand as he walked across the parking lot.
Alistair never interrupted Perigrine while he was tuning into the universal money mind. Given enough time, P. would sift through the incoming impulses which would guide him to an understanding of what was causing his palms to itch. His intuition never missed the mark. Everyone had a talent and Perigrine’s was feeling when he was close to something off-the-charts valuable.
“I think it should be sussed out, Ally. I’m on my way to Harriet’s to get a cake. I think you might need to prune the roses near Chief’s window. They need to be taken into hand. See you in a bit.” Perigrine removed his work apron, flung it on an untidy desk and made some quick adjustments to his bow tie in a mirror hung below a picture of The Queen.
Confident his appearance was in order, he strode out of the office towards the High Street and the best tea cakes one could buy in Marsden-Lacey.
Chapter 25
“I CAN’T BE SURE OF course. We need to have it looked at by an expert. Someone like Louis Devry obviously would know,” Helen said. She had been delicately studying the manuscript Johns had retrieved from Martha’s car.
“What does it look like in your less-expert opinion?” Johns asked.
Martha rolled her eyes. “Nice.”
Johns winked at her like he knew something incriminating about her.
Taken aback and a bit perplexed by his new tone, Martha scowled.
Helen didn’t seem to take it as an insult and replied, “It’s nineteenth century and in a woman’s hand. There is negligible deterioration which means it has been well cared for possibly in a collection where there were proper environmental conditions maintained. It’s a novel. Beautifully written. Almost poetic in its style. What I find curious is that the envelope containing the manuscript is American made and the mylar casing is museum grade but the style of writing is English. I’ve not seen the entire list of The Grange’s holdings so I’m not sure whether this may be in their collection or not. We need to show it to Mr. Devry.”
“That can be arranged,” Johns said.
“Chief Inspector Johns,” Martha began in an upbeat, professional tone, “Helen and I need to negotiate our situation.”
Johns asked with a smile, “Oh?”
“Yes, you see, we’ll stay out of your investigation if you would please let us return to work. As you can well imagine, being held by the police doesn’t do well with my employer or Helen’s clients.”
“Mrs. Littleword, you may not realize the danger you are in at this moment. Someone has a bone to pick with both of you.”
“We realize the danger but we plan to stay at my house and if you might consider our arrest to be more of the house variety, then I might get to keep my job and Helen can arrange to do her work from there.”
“Are you suggesting I should find it in my operating budget to pay for personal police protection for two American ladies who don’t know how to keep their noses out of trouble?”
Helen spoke up. “Okay, Chief Inspector but we would like to see all the paper work you’ve done so far regarding our offenses and our incarceration.”
Johns frowned. If they were going to play that card, he would have to let them go. He hadn’t created any documentation regarding their supposed offenses because he knew they were harmless. But being too nosey was turning out to be dangerous and he wanted to put some fear into them.
He put on a grave face. “Ok. You can go. But if you poke a tiny toe into my investigation again, you’ll be serving your time at Broadmore in North Yorkshire. Not a fun vacation destination for nice ladies like yourselves.” He smiled wickedly and blinked a number of times staring directly at them.
Helen lifted herself regally and smiled warmly. Her rigid shoulders and composed pleasantness made her look like an ice princess who was ready to dismiss the commoners from her presence. “Thank you Chief Inspector. We will be respectful of your case and if anything should come our way, we promise to come to you directly.”
Martha was busy spraying perfume that she found in her jacket pocket on her neck. Johns smelled the wafting rose scent and turned to see her squirt a shot down her shirt and into he
r bosom.
He felt his mind soar aloft like a balloon released by a child at the park. Martha looked up and saw instantly how his eyes had glazed over. With typical Martha flair, she tossed him the same impish smile he had given her earlier except she added a knowing wink.
An electric shock hit Johns in the chest then sizzled around his whole being until it discharged through each individual rigid hair on his buzzed head.
Martha waited for the most opportune moment then coyly tucked the perfume back into her favorite place, her cleavage, and watched with obvious glee as Johns shuffled papers hurriedly.
“Okay then,” he said hoarsely, “I will have Constable Waters assist you with gathering your things and getting your car out of the impound lot.”
The Chief pushed the thought of the red, lacy item under the car seat out of his mind. He knew without any hesitation that he was crazy about this Southern redhead and he couldn’t be in the room with her one more second.
Chapter 26
ALISTAIR HAD HEARD THE ENTIRE conversation, hidden as he was behind the magnificent English rose bushes flanking the west side of the Constabulary. He also saw the manuscript laying on the table, left tantalizingly unprotected by the departing Chief and the two women.
While Alistair and Perigrine had worked all those months on the Constabulary, they learned many curiosities about the place, things like how Chief Johns’ office was a treasure trove of fine whiskeys secreted in ladies handbags, and how windows weren’t regularly locked.
The window to the interrogation/lunch room or better known to the constables as the “break room,” was opened in less than a second and Alistair slid down the side of the inside wall. Being an affectionate soul, Alistair decided to give Perigrine something nice like a manuscript. He lifted it, still neatly enclosed in its mylar bag, and left the same way he came.
With a jaunty high step, Alistair crossed the back lot of the Constabulary and made his way towards the Garden Centre and the attached home he shared with Perigrine.
Two Birds with One Stone (A Marsden-Lacey Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 11