by Ken Blowers
CHAPTER 6
THE GARDENS
Inspector Grant was at something of a loss: a whole weekend spent on a missing person investigation and not a single clue had been unearthed! For him, it was almost too much to bear!
The Friday before, a Mr Dan Devious, after checking around his family and friends for news of his wife, had called in at his local Police Station to report her as missing; missing for over a week! Having been assigned the case, Inspector Grant had immediately arranged for the house and grounds to be thoroughly searched; and when that search failed to turn up any clues into the disappearance of the missing woman, he had implemented a very much wider search of the surrounding area. A week later, two weeks since the lady allegedly went missing, there was still nothing to report. No sightings, no note, no clues at all as to what had become of her. To Inspector Grant that was more than just ‘unusual’, it was beginning to look somewhat suspicious.
As the Inspector was being driven by Constable Moore back to the home from which the lady was missing, early on that second Friday of the investigation, he had one of those sudden flashes of inspiration that all detectives pray for, one that can occasionally make-or-break a difficult case such as this. He had suddenly noticed a Ford ute and trailer with a large 'Jim's Mowing' logo, parked at the side of the road, and Inspector Grant thought perhaps, it could be a useful opportunity to gather further information, from a previously untapped source. He instructed Constable Moore to stop the car and reverse back a bit. Dropping the car window, he called to a man busy loading a lawnmower onto the trailer, 'Excuse me, Jim. Have you got a minute?'
'Sorry, Sir’ the man replied, ‘I'm not Jim. I'm Ben, Ben Elliot. It's a franchise, you see: ‘Jim's Mowing’ and although there is a Jim somewhere on high, it’s certainly not me.’
'Ah, yes, yes of course. I understand. Look, I should explain. I'm Inspector Grant and I'm investigating the disappearance of Mrs Devious, the lady at the big house down there, 'The Gardens'; Number 64. I expect you've heard about that.. er, the lady going missing, have you?'
'Oh, yes, Sir. Yes, I have heard about her being missing, or supposed to be missing or something like that. Such a nice lady, too.'
'Oh, well, does that mean you've done work there, for the lady that's missing? Have you?'
'Why, yes, Sir. I certainly have. I've been doing work for Mrs Devious for, oh, something like five or six years now. In fact, ever since they built the place and on a regular basis, too. There was absolutely nothing but grass there back then. But look at it now! She’s done a lovely job, a wonderful job, with those gardens.’
‘Yes. They certainly are a credit to her.’
‘I’ll say. Not a weed anywhere and not a blade of grass out of place, either, if I may say so. Well, that’s my job, isn’t it? I don’t mind saying’ I’m proud of my little contribution, too.’
‘Well deserved, I’m sure. How often do you go there?’
‘Regular, according to the season, Sir. As I said, Mrs Devious is most particular.’
‘Of course. When were you last there, then?
‘I was there, oh, Monday before last and again on the following Wednesday.'
'Ah, but, when did you last see her?'
'See her? Why, on the Monday, Sir.'
'On the Monday? You sure you mean the Monday before last?’
'Oh yes, Sir. The Monday before last. There’s no doubt in my mind about that.'
‘Well, that is interesting and yet rather odd too, Mr Elliot. You see according to Mr Devious, his wife is supposed to have gone missing on the Friday before last, 14 days ago today. Yet you say you saw her 11 days ago!'
'Oh no, Sir. The lady's not been missing for the whole two weeks. That can't be right. You see, although I mow her lawn at her discretion, as you might say, I keeps my eye on it. If it needs mowing, I mow it. If I don’t, she’ll soon be on the phone, I can tell you. That’s a prize-winning garden that is. I mowed it the Monday before last and she came out and paid me at the door, as usual.’
‘And do you record that in some way, Mr Elliot?’
‘Why yes, Sir, I do. It's all down in my pocket book, if you want to check. I keep proper records, good records! She also paid me to take away her garden rubbish, plant clippings, palm fronds and the like. The lawn clippings she uses for mulch, you see. Dead keen on mulching, she is. Anyway, my trailer was full at the time, so I couldn't take her stuff right away, not that day. She didn’t mind that. It’s not unusual. I arranged to go back on the Wednesday, the Wednesday before last. But I didn't see her that day! She had already paid me so I just nipped in, loaded up with garden rubbish, and took off. Mind you, she didn't come out like she usually does, just for a friendly word or two, like. That was unusual, but I assumed perhaps she'd gone shopping or something like that.'
'Good. That’s very helpful. Now I'd like you to come down to 'The Gardens', just for a few minutes, if you wouldn't mind. I’d like you to walk around the grounds with me, tell me if everything is as it should be, that sort of thing. Perhaps you could tell me what you know about Mrs Devious and her lifestyle, it shouldn't take too long. Then perhaps you wouldn't mind making some arrangement with Constable Moore here, to pop in to the Police Station and make a formal statement sometime soon. We like good records too, you see and it would be a real big help to us. Alright?'
Mr Elliot readily agreed and followed them down to ‘The Gardens’.
Mr Devious didn't get home from work that day until late in the afternoon. He was tired, but he put on a brave front when he saw Inspector Grant and Constable Moore waiting for him in the driveway.
'Ah, Inspector. What news have you got for me? Found my dear wife, have you?'
'No, Sir. Regrettably not, I'm afraid. Though we do feel we are making some progress in that direction.
‘That’s disappointing, Inspector.’
‘Sorry, Sir, but tell me, you did say she went missing two weeks ago to this very day, is that correct, Sir?'
'Yes, Inspector. On the Friday, two weeks ago today.'
'Now you are absolutely sure about that? No doubts at all? It’s most important we get it right.'
'Absolutely! Two weeks ago.'
'You're not a gardener, I take it - are you, Sir?'
'Me? Oh, no, no, I leave all that sort of nonsense to my wife. She has no other interests of importance. She’s always wasted her time and money out there in the garden. She mumbles on and on about this plant and that. But to me, they’re all the same, just weeds. They may be different sizes and different colours, but they’re still weeds to me.'
‘So you do no gardening at all then, not even the mowing. Is that right?’
'Mowing? Ohhh...no, absolutely not! I believe she gets some sort of regular contractor or other to come in and do that.'
'When? Do you know when he comes?'
‘Me? No, not really. I don't know anything about that kind of thing. Whenever she thinks it's necessary, I suppose.'
'Would it surprise you to know that a Mr Elliot, of Jim's Mowing, heard of them, have you?...’
'No, should I?'
‘Well, Mr Elliot tells me he mowed your lawn the Monday before last.'
‘He may well have, for all I know. But what’s that got to do with anything?’
'Now, you may find this hard to believe, but he says your wife paid him at the door that day. Monday before last, we're talking about!'
'What! No, no, I... I don't see how that's possible, Inspector. The man’s mistaken. She went missing two weeks ago today. That’s the day you should be concentrating on; trains, buses, hitch-hiking. I don’t know; something like that. I wouldn’t have a clue, I never could get inside her mind.'
'I, ah, have to tell you that Mr Elliot is prepared to make a formal statement to that effect. Assuming he’s correct, it would mean your wife has not been missing for the full two weeks, as you so firmly claim. That, could put a very different light on things.�
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'What? Absolute nonsense! The man's made a mistake. He must have! Either that or he’s a complete idiot… and a trouble maker to boot!’
‘We will see, Sir. We will see. In the meantime, I would like to draw your attention to a certain garden bed, that one over there,' the Inspector said, pointing. 'See it? The new bed, the one up against the wall of the house.'
'What? Where? Oh, yes. Yes, so what about it?' queried Mr Devious, nervously.
'They're bananas over there, Sir. Or, more correctly, young banana shoots, I believe.'
'Really? Oh, yes, yes, I can see that now! ‘Spurs’, I think she calls them things. I’ve seen her chop them off the side of the big banana trees with a garden spade and then she plants ‘em by just sort of sticking 'em in. But those over there, they've been in there for ages.'
'Ah, well, I have to tell you Sir, that our very knowledgeable Mr Elliot doesn't agree with that statement. No! He says that bed wasn't there when he came here a week ago, on the Monday. But, interestingly enough, he noticed the new bed, complete with banana spurs, here when he came back on the Wednesday.'
'Wednesday? What on earth would he be doing coming here on the Monday and coming back again on the Wednesday? It doesn’t make sense! I tell you, Inspector, the man's a fool and an idiot! Completely unreliable! Why on earth would he notice such a thing, anyway?’
‘He apparently thought it odd, if not funny. He came back on the Wednesday, on the instructions of Mrs Devious, to remove some garden rubbish, plant clippings, palm fronds and that sort of thing. He couldn't take it away on the Monday because of the amount of grass clippings he already had in his trailer. It was apparently quite a regular arrangement for him to come back on another day.'
'No... no, there's been some mistake. There has to be.'
'I'm afraid there's no mistake, Sir. A very helpful and obliging man, our Mr Elliot, Ben to your wife, I expect. He’s a mine of information too, Sir. For instance, did you know your wife never, ever, dug her plants in? Did you know that?’
‘Not dig her plants in? Really? No, I can’t say I remember her ever saying anything about that. It doesn’t make any sense to me, Inspector.’
‘No, I didn't think you would know that. I don't suppose you took that much notice. Anyway, the thing is, she liked to keep her garden beds well drained. So, when she made a new bed, she would cut a shallow hole through the grass, add a bit of compost and put her plant in that; then build it up a bit more all around with more potting mix and compost. After that she would likely add a bit of weed mat and some pine-bark mulch.’
‘What?’
‘Look around you, Sir. See how all the plants are set in little mounds. See that, do you? But, look at this bed here, Sir; all flat and level. No compost, no weed mat, no mulch. Certainly very different to the rest of the garden and in a prize-winning garden, decidedly odd; wouldn’t you say, for it to be so different, eh?'
'Odd? I, I wouldn't know. As I say, gardening is not my thing.'
'Exactly, Sir! I don't suppose you would know. Let me explain, this bed is flat! No weed mat, no mulch and it's fresh.’
‘Fresh? Are you sure about that?’
‘According to Mr Elliot, if it were an old bed, Sir, the soil would be sun bleached: more grey, instead of that nice, rich, dark colour - know what I mean? No you don't, do you?’
'Really, Inspector?'
‘I believe your wife was too good a gardener to plant bananas here, on the south side of the house? No way, Sir! These bananas should be out there, in the full sun with all the other bananas she planted! As for planting them up against the wall, right under the eaves, well, I don't know whether she'd laugh or cry if she saw them there, with no room to grow! But she won't see them, will she, Sir? She won't see anything in her beautiful garden; her love, her joy, ever again.'
'Inspector, I...'
'Just a minute, Sir. I must advise you, in your own interest not to say anything more. Not another word, until you are formally cautioned and properly represented. Do you understand?'
Mr Devious could only nod in agreement.
'Good. Do you know what I'm going to do now, Sir? I'm going to have this bed dug up. When I do, I expect to find your wife and she's going to tell me all I need to know!'
'But she can't... she's... she’s d…d…d…'
'Now then! I did warn you! But, oh yes, she can certainly tell me something. She will, in time, tell me everything I need to know. Then it will be your turn.' He beckoned to Constable Moore, standing nearby. 'Constable! I want you to take Mr Devious away, now. Caution him, charge him and lock him up. I think his presence is rather spoiling the look of 'The Gardens'. I’m sure his dear wife would agree.’