Episode 6 - The Postmortem

Monday September 8

The night spent as a ‘grown-up’ twosome in a single bunk bed was declared to be marginally more comfortable than the hearth-rug from the previous night, but it had not been indusive to sleep, so Cleo and Gary were correspondingly rather tired as they walked briskly to the hospital, a red-brick Victorian building on the sea-front, where Susie Sweet’s earthly remains were to be examined.

***

Gary knew he had to go through with the ordeal of confronting Susie Sweet, although viewing victims of violent crimes upset him. Cleo was better able to cope with corpses and violence.

He often wondered why he had joined the police force. His mother had been appalled. Gary was sensitive and intellectual. He had had to learn to be dispassionate, even indifferent to victims and callous to their attackers. Gary chased criminals and people he thought could be villains with a grim determination that often smacked of revenge. He was consoled this morning by the knowledge that he had a future with Cleo even if she was not yet ready to ditch Robert for him.

***

Cleo and Gary had not talked to Vera and Dorothy about their interlude on the beach the previous day. There is no denying, even withfine out considering a night spent entwined on a bunk bed designed for juniors, that their relationship was at last on a level that Cleo would define as spiritual, transcending the physical joy that had ignited it and uniting them in a way they had never before experienced.

Dorothy would be sceptical for a long time despite Vera’s defence of what was ‘going on’. Cleo and Gary both loved music, poetry and fine art. Cleo was more interested in crime that Gary was. Dorothy knew that Cleo was not like her mother, who was gregarious to a fault, vulgar and brash, and loved her job at Robert’s shop. Cleo’s actions could not be defined as short-sighted and never as thoughtless. She did not take action without rhyme or reason. Dorothy regretfully deduced that the marriage to Robert could not last much longer.

Not that Cleo was without faults and weaknesses. She was vain, as she herself admitted. Her impulsiveness was always on a personal level, but it had caused problems several times. She was finding it hard to come to terms with her mother’s excesses and would have preferred it if Gloria Hartley had stayed in Chicago rather than trying to make it up with her daughter. Cleo could not forgive her for siding with her first husband, a man who had bullied her and kicked her around, once until she lost her baby and spent nearly a month in hospital recovering from his brutality. Gloria had sworn in a court of law that Cleo had fallen down some stairs and Jay Salerno had escaped a prison sentence.

That was why she had broken off contact to her and moved to the little cottage her English father had left to her. It also probably why she had sought the psychological shelter offered by a mild man like Robert Jones, who never lost his  temper with Cleo  and tolerated everything as long as he could possess the woman who was in his view a trophy, since she was astute and shrewd and he was only a humble butcher.

Robert would have been relieved to know how much Cleo had tried to uphold her marriage vows. She found it strangely moving to have two men loving her. She was touched in a way she had never before experienced. Her emotional confusion was now even intruding on the job in hand, which was to find Susan Smart’s killer and maybe even clear up some of the other messes in that seaside town.

At the sanatorium where Gary was treated for burnout, the psychiatrist had told him that his mixed feelings about victims and criminals was only one reason for his burnout syndrome, and that it would recur unless he got a job more suited to his personality or at least sorted out his private life. He had confessed to the psychiatrist that he womanized for the sake of it while the one woman he loved could not make up her mind. The psychiatrist had wondered how much fantasy was in what Gary related, but it was the truth. He loved a woman who was brutally honest and compassionate at the same time, and stuck in a marriage she had entered out of loyalty and did not have the heart to desert. The psychiatrist was intrigued. Seldom did men actually talk about such passion with so much emotional sincerity.The sooner that woman decided to take him on, the better.

Meanwhile Gary was glad to have Cleo at his side whatever the situation, even if he would much rather have had the onfines of that narrow bunk bed and the beauty of their intimacy than the tiled, chemical pristineness of the pathology lab. Cleo knew how the situation was affecting him and was protective. She was strong. She would manage the situation brilliantly.

***

The pathologist had plenty to do. Corpses were queuing up, he said. Anyone who died ended up in the pathology lab if there was any question at all concerning the demise, and often even if there wasn’t.  For that reason he had not had time for an in-depth examination of Susan Smart, which included getting DNA samples analysed by a central office and compared with police and forensic records.

“That’s not your job,” Gary said.

“I agree.”

***

The pathologist was only able to tell Cleo and Gary that death had in all probability been caused by partial strangulation. That had been followed after an interval by a fatal blow on the head, but he could not verify that assumption until he knew how severe the head injuries were. She could have died as a result of the strangling, though that was unlikiely, as the blow on the head was not committed after death.

Whatever the outcome of the pathologist’s examination, one thing was quite clear: someone had wanted to be quite sure Miss Smart was dead.

The pathologist had the makings of a sleuth. His question supported that: Had she known her killer and gone to the beachhut voluntarily? Knowing Miss Sweet’s occupation, it was probably a client she had trusted, the pathologist thought. Miss Sweet had not been moved after the murder. He was sure of that. Gary told him that It would explain why the killer did not take the chain and amulet noted by Brass in the initial report and confirm that the blow on the head had been done when she was already lying on the amulet, but still alive, perhaps moaning or groaning.

The pathologist could not rule out the possibility that two killers had been at work. He had made of the fresh wound on the corpse’s neck, but had not known about the amulet.

One mistery less, he said. So had she pulled it off herself, or had the killer grabbed it and wrenched it off? Was the killer too squeamish to retrieve it from under Miss Smart’s body?

After specimens taken from scrapings under the woman’s fingernails had been checked, he would most likely be able to confirm what had happened. The pathologist explained that particles containing strange DNA would indicate a struggle and the DNA might even have an equivalent in police records, but the struggle could have been before she went to the beachhut. Whores got up to all sorts of antics, the pathologist said, and Cleo wondered if that pathologist also got his thrills that way.

Gary commented that if the traces under fingernails had got there during a death struggle, the suspect must have inflicted scratch marks, possibly on the attacker’s face, neck or arms, which indicated that the strangling had been a spontaneous act provoked by Miss Smart’s reaction to something that had happened between her and her assassin. The pathologist wondered whether Miss Sweet had taunted the killer about visiting a prostitute. He had read somewhere that prostitutes made money on the side by blackmailing their clients.

***

Cleo was impressed with the pathologist’s reasoning and hoped that he was not talking from bitter experience at the hands of a blackmailing hooker.

“The problem is that a number of other young women have been murdered in beachhuts or at similar locations at seaside resorts,” said Gary. So we could be looking for a serial killer.”

“This could be the work of just one killer,but it would not surprise me if there were two,” said the pathologist. “But wouldn’t it be an enormous coincidence if two killers were on the rampage together in pursuit of the same type of victim and taking it in turns to inflict injury and death? It’s also possible that there are finger prints on the amulet found under the woman’s body. Where is it now? That would be the first error the killer had made, since presumably he was not suspected after the other murders. But I only deal with human remains. I can obtain any skin scrapings from the body, but I cannot do definitive DNA testing here and I have no access to past police records. On the other hand, scratch scars take quite a while to heal and are usually identifiable as such,” advised the pathologist, anxious to say something optimistic.

***

Cleo was clear on one salient point: a comparison of all the evidence found on the other corpses must be undertaken immediately. But she was curious about the pathologist. Had someone told him the woman’s name, or did he recognize her?

“Did you have sex with Miss Sweet,” Cleo asked, startling both the pathologist and Gary.

“Yes,” said the pathologist, taken by surprise.

“So you are a client at Ivy Frobisher’s brothel,” Cleo continued.

“No,” said the pathologist. “It was a private arrangement.”

“OK. Thanks for being honest,” said Cleo.

While Gary wondered about the implication of Susie Sweet having clients on the side as he went through the pathologist’s statement with him, Cleo announced that she had to make a short phone call. Gary and the pathologist would wait till she came back before dragging out the metal trolley containing Miss Smart’s body, which the sleuths had not yet inspected.

***

Gary was perturbed that Cleo had left him in the mortuary. It was freezing cold in the refrigerated cellar room. An eerie halogen light cast blue shadows. Was there a corpse behind each door? Were these poor souls waiting to be freed and then transported to where they would be interred or cremated? Memories of Sybil came flooding in. She had been kept refrigerated in a mortuary until her killer had been found.

***

Meanwhile Cleo was phoning Brass.

“Have the forensic guys  from HQ been to the beachhut?” she wanted to know.

“No. Sergeant Loo said it was not necessary.”

“But the beachhut is still cordoned off, isn’t it?”

“That was my decision. The sergeant doesn’t know.”

“Well, get the forensics in from somewhere double quick, Brass. We need more evidence and there may be some in that hut.”

“But…”

“No buts, Brass. Inspector Hurley wants it that way.”

Thinking fondly of his prospect of a new job, Brass agreed to call in the forensic team right away.

“Where is the amulet, Brass? You do have it, don’t you?”

“It’s in a plastic bag, hidden in a drawer at the station, Miss Hartley.”

“Good. Can you give it to the forensic team without handling it?”

“Of course. Even I know about fingerprints, Miss Hartley.”

“Of course you do. I didn’t mean to be tactless. Who has the key of the beachhut now?”

“I have one here, Miss Hartley, but there may be others.It one of those old-fashioned keys that go into a large hole.  That’s why I put a safety lock into the keyhole, so no one can get in without my knowing.”

“Brilliant, Brass. I’ll be in touch again soon. Make sure you are there to let the forensic team in.”

“Of course, Miss Hartley … and thank you.”

***

Cleo returned to the mortuary and gave Gary a brief nod.  Cleo mimed that she had been telephoning. Gary did not yet know why Cleo had made that phone call. He trusted her to do the right thing, though before today he would never have admitted as much without wondering about the skill she had in running her agency and making it indispensable to him.

Promising to phone as soon as he had any further results of his postmortem, after a very brief look at Miss Sweet, who seemed to have been cleaned up and lay on the narrow metal stretcher like a fairytale sleeping beauty, the pathologist accompanied Cleo and Gary to the hospital reception.

“You won’t say anything about my relationship with Miss Sweet, will you?” said the pathologist, who was now anxious about his reputation.

“Not unless I have to,” said Gary. “Do you have an alibi for Wednesday and Thursday?”

“Yes. I had time off and was at home with the family.”

Cleo wondered if the pathologist always prepared corpses with such loving care.

***

“You phoned Brass, didn’t you, Cleo?” said Gary, when they were outside the hospital.

“He’s ordering forensics.”

“You mean they haven’t been to the beachhut?”

“Apparently Sergeant Llewellyn did not want that.”

“It beggars belief,” said Gary. “If he is innocent, I’ll eat my hat!”

“It’s a tin-pot police contingent in a tin-pot town, Gary. Don’t blame Brass. He managed to put the amulet into a plastic bag and conceal it before the sergeant saw it.”

“That shows initiative,” said Gary.

“He also inserted a safety lock into the keyhole of the beachhut door and has the key on his person. No one can get in without his knowledge.”

“I’m impressed. He might make a good assistant after all if he can show that much initiative behind the back of that half-baked sergeant,” said Gary.

I don’t think the pathologist killed Miss Sweet,” said Cleo.

“Do you know, that’s exactly what I was wondering about. The blackmail idea would fit him perfectly. He has a family and good job I’m sure he does want to lose.”

“You got through that corpse show well,” said Cleo.

“I think it had been cleaned up rather meticulously. I was dreading the moment, but of course  she was lying on the gash on her head.”

***

Cleo wondered again about Gary’s anxiety. During her studies she had been fascinated by the idea that negative childhood experiences could hurt decades later. She would ask him.

***

“So what’s next, Gary?”

“I think I should head back to Middlethumpton. If Sergeant Double L has done a bunk we’ll get the local cops to look for him.”

“Does that mean you are going to wait and see if another hooker is murdered before taking any drastic action?”

“We don’t know if he’s in Blackpool, Cleo, and we don’t know if he killed Miss Smart. In fact, we don’t know anything.”

“Sure. It looks like we are completely in the dark.”

“Someone’s odd behaviour does not make them a killer.”

“How odd does it have to get?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Are you going back home today, Cleo?”

“No, tomorrow.”

“What about our baby?”

“She’s having a whale of a time without me. Gloria and Robert are enjoying themselves, too, on the basis of ‘When the cat’s away…’ Gloria takes charge at home in the morning while Robert gets things going at the shop, then they switch and PeggySue has her siesta with Robert before they go for their constitutional.”

“That sounds great, Cleo. I wish…”

Cleo interrupted what she guessed were thoughts Gary should not allow himself.

“So they won’t mind my taking an extra day. I’ll take Dorothy with me tomorrow.”

“Unless she wants to go home today. In that case, I can give her a lift.”

“I’m sure she’d like that, if only to impress the neighbours. Ask her.”

“I will.”

“Question: You want your daughter home, don’t you , Gary? Does she like being in Spain with her mother and the mother’s new lover?”

“I’ve told you that she doesn’t. She wants to come home, but what can I offer her?”

“Offer yourself. Get her home!”

Gary’s face lightened up as he thought of his daughter.

“I’ll help you, Gary. I’ve told you that. You have my full support.”

“Thanks Cleo. That means a lot to me.”

“But now it’s full steam ahead with Susan Smart.”

“Right, but we won’t stop at Miss Smart. We need more on those other killings. I’ll ask Colin to comb the records so that we can compare details about the locations and so on. I’m almost grateful to Miss Smart for getting killed where Dorothy would find her.”

“That was cynical,” Cleo rebuked, but Gary was right. The aim now would have to be to stop further killings of young women, whatever profession they pursued.

***

After a quick lunch with Vera and the family, Gary said his goodbyes and enthused about the hospitality. He was going to leave Cleo in an emotional turmoil made more intense by the fresh round of farewell hugs and kisses he had dispensed to all the ladies, but most of all to her.

Dorothy was tempted to drive home with Gary, but decided not to, not least because she needed to talk earnestly with Cleo.

“Come again,” Victoria invited.

“I will. Thanks for having me. I’ll bring my daughter next time. She’s about the same age as Lucy.”

Cleo felt totally bereft after Gary had left. It would have comforted her to know that he felt the same.

***

“What has happened between you and Gary?” Dorothy asked, not wasting any time on a preamble as soon as she could corner Cleo for a private talk. She would not wait a day until they drove back to Midddlethupton, She would get things cleared up here and now.

“You know what happened Dorothy,” said Cleo. “I told you and Vera last night.”

“I thought you must be joking,” said Dorothy. “What about Robert?”

“What about Robert?” said Cleo. “I have to make my own decisions about my life, Dorothy. I don’t think you quite understand. Did he hire you to save hi marriage?”

Dorothy was indignant.

“You are placing your life in the hands of a person who has short-lived affairs and may be lying to you.”

“What makes you think that, Dorothy?”

“Men can be mean, Cleo.”

“Listen Dorothy. Gary is not like that. We wíll love one another till death do us part and way beyond.”

“Those are marriage vows, Cleo. One ought not to use them for normal dialogue.”

“Why not? They are vows, Dorothy. Our mutual promise. I am much more married to Gary than I ever was to Robert, though the early days were bearable. But Robert and I never had the kind of relationship I have with Gary, and never will.”

“I must say that I am shocked, Cleo,” said Dorothy sniffing.

“For good measure, and because I know you mean well, Dorothy, I want you to know that I have had no sexual contact with Robert since long before PeggySue was born.”

“Oh,” said Dorothy.

“His advances to me invariably ended in impotence, Dorothy.”

“Don’t tell me such things!”

“I have to tell you what is really none of your business not because sex is the only important part of a marriage, but because Robert is indifferent to anything except being in a married state with an interesting woman, whom he ignores on anything but a superficial level.”

“Don’t go on, please.”

“My marriage to Robert died long before I had the baby he did not want. My marriage to Gary started the day we set eyes on one another. I know he is PeggySue’s father and I was not married at the time.”

Dorothy gasped.

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” said Dorothy.

“The older PeggySue gets, the more like Gary she becomes and I know that Gary would welcome her with open arms. Robert does his duty by the child, but that’s all.”

“You are saying terrible things, Cleo. I don’t think I can talk anymore.”

“But you started this and I haven’t quite finished,” said Cleo, keen now to say what she felt she had to say. “If you feel protective of Robert, go ahead, protect him, but I think that’s where our partnership in the Hartley Agency ends. I don’t ask you to condone what I’m doing, but I do ask you not to meddle.”

Dorothy felt very small and humble. Vera had listened at the door to quite a lot of the dialogue. Now she came in and stood between Cleo and Dorothy.

“I’d like to apologise for my younger sister, Cleo. She gets carried away. I’ve watched you and Gary and there is no doubt in my mind that he loves you and wants you. I had a bad first marriage, and thanks to the interference of my family,” she said, looking at Dorothy long and hard, “I had to run away to New York to get rid of the guy.”

“We wanted the best for you, Vera,” said Dorothy.

“You had no idea what was the best for me, any more than you have an inkling what Cleo is going through now.”

“I’ve never been in such turmoil before,” said Cleo.

“But you’re in one now, are you?” snapped Dorothy.

Cleo was now really irate with Dorothy.

“Turmoil you are contributing to by trying to sell Robert to me as the ideal husband. You know that I’ve tried to get the marriage to work. Then on Sunday Gary told me how much he loves me and I could see he is suffering for that love. ”

“He was bound to tell you sooner or later,” snapped Dorothy.

“Get off your high horse, Dorothy,” said Vera. “Are you in love with Gary, Cleo?”

“Yes. I still care to a certain extent what happens to Robert, but I don’t love him, Vera.”

“You’re big-hearted, Cleo. Love doesn’t come in slices or boxes with a user manual and it’s expandable. You stretched it to love your daughter and before that it had already expanded like a cloud to envelop Gary. That’s the simplest explanation,” said Vera. “I often think of love as a cloud, only it tends to rain kisses and babies rather than raindrops.”

“What a wonderful description, Vera,” said Cleo.

“Do you still disapprove, Dorothy,” said Vera. “You have no right to.”

“I can’t disapprove if that’s the way things are going to be. I agree that staying with one person if you love someone else more or staying with someone even if you don’t really want to cannot be the right thing to do.”

”Go with the flow, Cleo, and take no notice of busybodies,” said Vera, looking sternly at Dorothy.

“I need Gary, and that includes all the physical and psychological components of loving him for himself. I feel protected and protective, and heaven knows Gary needs protecting, sometimes from himself.”

“So bury the hatchet, you two,” said Vera.

“Friends?” said Dorothy.

“And colleagues,” said Cleo. “I need you, too, Dorothy.”

They huggedone another, including Vera in the embrace, but Dorothy was not sure how she should react in future. It looked as if Cleo was going to break from Robert. She was obviously not going to sacrifice herself any longer for a lost cause. She would have to find Robert someone else.