Episode 16 - Hens

Tuesday cont.

Cleo realized that it was true that business had been slow all summer, but she had managed to cover her overheads. Now school had started again, people were taking time to decide if they wanted to change their lives and were eager to pay a fee for good advice they would never want from a psychiatrist, doctor or clergyman. They felt they could trust Cleo – and they could, of course. Her training as a social worker had helped her to help many,and word had got around.

***

“I’m glad we are going to carry on, Cleo.”

It’s not just because Gary needs us, Dorothy. We need us, too.”

“So where do we start?”

“I have an email on my screen. Someone at last saw my ad in the Chronicle, but it isn’t much of a case.”

“Read me the mail anyway.”

“It’s from a Mr Barker.”

“That could be my neighbour.”

“Only if he keeps hens.”

“He does.”

“Well, someone is stealing them.”

“Oh dear. Jane never told me. I might have eaten one of her husband’s prize hens.”

“You ate one?”

“It was definitely chicken and Jane gave it to me. I hope it was not one of Mr Barker’s. Surely he would not slaughter his own hens?”

“Other people do,” said Cleo.

“I got to meet those hens. Mr Barker loves them as household pets. Jane had invited me for lunch through that high fence of theirs. The chicken-wire was nailed on to prevent my little dog getting in. I think that inspired Mr Barker to keep hens. They cannot get out by themselves because, unlike Minor, they cannot dig deep holes.”

“Who plucked them and got them read for roasting, Dorothy?”

“I think Mr Barker took them to a butcher in Middlethumpton, Cleo. I can’t imagine that he did it himself if he loved them.”

“Or Mrs Barker took the hens, killed them and cleaned them.”

“Surely not. That’s horrible if she new them personally,”said Dorothy. “I think that Mrs Barker must be a dark horse.”

“Not ruling the roost then? On second thoughts…”

“Jane is certainly enterprising. She helped me in that cleaning job at the Wellness Centre when we were solving that diamond case.”

“It all ties up. Mr Barker thinks his wife is purloining the hens and selling them,” said Cleo. “you told me she doesn’t like them.”

“I once heard her shouting,” said Dorothy. “She was threatening her husband. She was telling him that she would find a way of silencing the silly birds. I remember being quite amused, but maybe she really has been disposing of the hens one by one and even passed one on to me.”

“Someone else must have killed and prepared it, Dorothy.”

“If it was Jane, it doesn’t bear thinking about.”

“Can you find out if she has anything to do with the hens disappearing?”

“I can try. I could even ask her.”

“Don’t ask her straight out, Dorothy. If she’s doing something underhand, she’ll invent some story or other.”

“Is it a crime to take your husband’s hens and sell them or even murder them?”

“It would not be murder and I’m not sure it’s a crime unless Mr Barker decides to have her prosecuted, Dorothy.”

“Maybe Mr Barker is just making a fuss, or a fox has been taking them, assuming a fox has found a way of getting in,” said Dorothy.

“I’ll write him a note and tell him the agency is going to investigate,” Cleo proposed. “I could also send him a list of our charges. That should bring him to his senses. The Hartley Agency has more important things to do than chase chickens.”

“What, for instance? ” Dorothy wanted to know. “I can take care of the hen problem, but that’s not going to keep me busy for long.”

“Even if the police in North Wales are dealing with Susan Smart’s murder, I’d like to know who absconded with the girl four years ago. It is probably just curiosity, but she’s not the only girl who has vanished around here. Part of our job is also to prevent crime, not just solve it when it happens.”

“I’ll look into that, Cleo.”

***

The phone rang.

“Frank Wetherby here. I was given your mobile  number by Constable Brass,” he said.

“Aren’t you are the private detective Sergeant Llewellyn dislikes?”

“Despises, Miss Hartley. I’m on a roll when he’s not around. I heard that you were also doing some work on those murder cases. Do you need any extra help?”

“Have you talked to my….to Chief Inspector Hurley? He should be at the station by now. Introduce yourself.”

“I sometimes work for the police, Miss Hartley. That’s why I’m ringing you. I have information about Ivy Frobisher…”

“…and information has a price,” Cleo completed. “You know that withholding information is a crime, Mr Wetherby. Tell the police!”

“I know all that, but since you…”

“… Since I know Mr Hurley it would be like going to the police but less like informing, I think you mean.”

“It would give me a leg up and we could work together.”

“How do I know that you aren’t having me on, Mr Wetherby?”

“Because the information I have is genuine, but I can’t do anything with it myself without getting mixed up in all the corrupt goings-on here.”

“Point taken,” said Cleo. “You want be on my books as an employee then I can pay you for your work and protect you from guys like Llewellyn.”

“Would you do that, Miss Hartley?”

“Why not? That would not make you an informant. Telling the police would, of course. I can filter the information first.”

“Put like that it sounds a bit of an imposition.”

“Never mind the innuendoes, Mr Wetherby. Just mail me your personal data and we’ll get a contract organized.”

“Thanks, Miss Hartley.”

“I’m Cleo to my colleagues.”

“I’m Frank – not the truthful sort, like in frank, but I am truthful – or silent.”

“Don’t worry about it, Frank. People thought I was related to Hartley’s jams when I first got here. The black child on the logo was not helpful. It’s wasn’t a Hartley’s logo at all, but a Robertson’s. People just didn’t know or care. Jam is jam.”

“You’ve no idea how often I’m asked what the weather’s going to be like, Cleo. I should know if I’m a detective, they say. Some people can’t spell, either.”

***

Wetherby rang off. Cleo had turned up the volume, so Dorothy had been able to listen in.

“Brilliant, Cleo. He sounds like a nice guy.”

“That’s one good reason for keeping the agency going. He would never have talked to Gary.”

“He hasn’t actually told you anything yet, either.”

“But he will. I’ll get organized and make a date to see him on Wednesday.”

“Here?”

“No. There.”

“So you want to go there tomorrow?”

“If I can get things organized, I’ll have to. I should at least meet the guy.”

***

Meanwhile Wetherby had sent a mail.

“That was quick,” said Dorothy.

“If he has insider information, he’s worth his weight in gold. I’ll send him a contract form now.”

A few minutes later Wetherby rang back.

”Ivy was probably drugged,” he said voluntarily.

“I thought she was stabbed.”

“Both,” said Wetherby.

“How do you know?”

“Street talk.  Rumour has it that her assistant had a hand in her death.”

“You mean the guy named Jake?”

“That’s him.”

Cleo and Dorothy were sceptical. Was Wetherby hazarding a gues or two?

“One thing about the drugs, Frank. She was able to get to the beachhut and was stabbed there. Isn’t it possible that two people wanted her dead?”

“I’ll look into that, Cleo. I have an idea.”

“Want to tell me?”

“Only that she had a row of older clients – guys who did nto want to go to the brothel.”

“Or clients who wanted the older hooker’s discreet services on the beach?”

“That’s also possible.”

“But you think that Jake gave her some kind of barbiturate? Why would he do that?”

“He likes to do things himself – like managing that establichment. With her out of the way all night he had a free run.”

“He will have known she was going out and gave her something to make her stay away, drowsy and unable to defend herself.”

“That’s feasible, but she would not be able to practice her trade in a drugged state,” said Cleo.

“Some guys prefer a somnolent prtner,” said Frank, and Cleo wondered about him.

“Some girls are drugged to make them amenable,” said Cleo. “Do you know where she usually went?”

“As I said, to the beach. She made a bee line for one of her chalets, Cleo.”

“What about Jake’s motive?”

“That’s obvious. He wanted Ivy’s business. He would get it bit by bit, by cooking the books or some other criminal means. With her record, she would hardly have complained to the police.”

“What record?”

“For a start, the mysterious disappearance of Mr Frobisher.”

“Explain.”

“He apparently left and was later found mearly burnt to cinders in a wood not far away.”

“And you think she was responsible, do you?”

“So did the police, but for some reason they never pursue the case,” said Frank.

“Ivy probably rewarded them handsomely, Frank.”

“The town hall elite flocked to her establishment. I know that for a fact.”

“Would Sergeant Llewellyn know that you know?”

“It would explain why he wants to get at me,” said Frank.

***

“Back to Ivy, Frank. If there were two killers, who would the second guy be?”

“Someone jealous of Ivy’s profitable brothel, probably. Or a friend of Jake’s.”

“A woman?” said Cleo.

“That had not occurred to me,” said Frank.

“Maybe you need to work on that case some more, Frank.”

“Will do, Cleo.”

“Jake seems to have taken over the brothel business already,” said Cleo.

“Did you find that out when you went there knowing Ivy was dead?”

“He insisted he would make the work contract with me, not Ivy. He did not mention her.”

“You were acting as a job candidate, weren’t you?”

“With Mr Hurley close on my heels. Frank.”

“Jakemust have known that Ivy was dead. News gets round fast in this dump,” said Frank.

“We didn’t get as far as talking about Ivy and Jake did not immediately realize that I knew, though I suspect that he guessed later. I suppose you know who was waiting there.”

“Yeah! You said that Jake was going to – forgive my expression – put you onto him.”

“Sure. Then fortunately Mr Hurley tuned up. I’d sent him a ‘help me’ message as arranged. He was waiting outside in the car. The whole business moved fast than he thought it would.”

“But Llewellyn had time to clear off, didn’t it?”

“With Jake’s assistance, Frank. We weren’t fast enough. Mr Hurley was furious with himself.”

“Sergeant Llewellyn is a wily subject. Up to no good. ”

“How do you know what you know, Frank?”

“Walls have ears!”

“How did the local police react to the situation?”

“Furious that Llewellyn got away, Cleo. But they would have been just as furious if it had been Joe Bloggs.”

“Mr Hurley hesitated about drawing a gun and that gave that sergeant time. He was glad he hadn’t because Jake drew a gun and would have shot. He’s a nasty character. In such a situation even a Chief Inspector does not risk annoying his oponent.”

“True enough. You might otherwise not have lived to tell the tale,” said Wetherby.

“Fortunately we did.”

***

“Another rumour, Cleo. I have it on good authority that the police won’t touch Llewellyn when it comes to the crunch. He has good connections.”

“There seems to be a lot of them in that town. Frank.”

“That’s why they don’t like private eyes, Cleo.”

“They don’t like any eyes, as far as I can see,” said Cleo. “Mr Hurley does not believe the police there will cooperate closely. There are powers at work whose wings need to be clipped first.”

“Do you mind if I just clear up one thing that has puzzled me?”

“Go ahead, Frank. I think I know what’s on your mind.”

“That inspector – Mr Hurley - is your friend, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Frank. He’s the man in my life.”

“I’ll keep that to myself, Cleo. Where is he now?”

“As I said, he’s back in Frint-on-Sea or maybe in Morlin Bay, dealing with a different case. But only today He wants to drive back this evening. Our relationship is not a secret, by the way.”

“That other case involves a young woman named Angie Ealing, doesn’t it?”

Cleo wondered what the Wetherby guy did not know.

“Do you have some information about her?”

“Not yet, but if you ask me to get some. I’ll work on it straight away.”

“Go ahead, Frank. You have my backing and I’ll tell Gary that you are on a mission in my name.”

***

“OK. Will do! I have a bit of gen on that murder of a schoolgirl who latched onto by a lover-boy, too. As a rule, the girls are sent out to solicit fellas on the beach then go back with them to the B &B, to a room hired by the lover-boy,” said Frank. “It’s possible that someone will talk if I point out that murder is not a good recommendation for a B and B. A chambermaid could be the next.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

“I’ll ask around.  The lover-boy is not necessarily the murderer. He’s just a pimp dealing in young girls. Trade in prostitution is good here and the lover-boys are rivals. They don’t like someone else’s girl being on their pitch.”

“Wouldn’t they kill the lover-boy in that case?”

“Killing one hapless girl could be used as a warning. Starting a fight with another lover-boy would be more risky.”

“Mafia style,” said Cleo. She wondered if Brass gave Wetherby inside information.

“Do you know how old the girl at the B and B was?”

“Fifteen. Still in gymslips, but that wasn’t what she was wearing when she was killed. I don’t think she was wearing anything.”

“What else do you know about that B & B?”

“They rent out by the hour if someone asks.”

“Would they know the name of whoever rented a room.”

“No names are recorded and generous amounts of cash is paid in advance. I need to find out if the girl’s lover-boy was there regularly. It’s not the only location for love-boy incidents.”

“Can anyone describe the guy who went to the room with the girl?”

“No one’s been talking. It’s bad for business.”

“Would they talk to me?”

“I doubt it.”

“OK, Frank. Keep me informed about anything you discover and I’ll be there as soom as I can to sort out the contract when my kids are taken care of. You’ll get payment for what you’ve told me now. We’ll backdate the contract.”

“Thanks, Cleo. You can rely on me.”

“Oh, and before I forget, we’ll need proof if Jake had a hand in Ivy’s murder. Poison does not sound typical and she may already have been taking some sort of stimulant or drug. I understand that Ivy did a roaring trade in older men walking dogs at the beachhut of hers.”

“So you don’t believe in Jake’s guilt, Cleo,” said Wetherby.

“Let’s just say I have my doubts, Frank. As I said, Ivy might have been drugging herself with something to help her libido.”

“So they’ll have to identify the substance and then find the donor.”

“It looks like that, Frank. See you soon.”

***

“So you will have to go away again, Cleo,” said Dorothy when Cleo had finished talking to Frank.

“It looks like it. You heard that guy, Dorothy. I’d like to know who his informants are. He seems to know everything that’s going on in that town. His knowledge might even make it possible to get rid of at least some of the sleaze.”

“And catch one or two killers,” suggested Dorothy.