The Suitcase Murderer

by James Andrew

  ‘Alfred Duggan?’ Blades said, to which Louisa nodded.

  ‘Anyone else?’ Peacock said.

  ‘Not that I know of. And she didn’t talk of knowing anyone anywhere else. She was no Gloria Swanson. She wouldn’t have had a stream of them after her.’

  ‘And what did you think of her relationship with Alfred Duggan?’ Blades asked.

  ‘What anyone would. She needed to be careful with the likes of him. That sort’s all charm and words and smiles – and hands. There was only one thing he was after and if she had a head on her she’d have seen that.’

  ‘So, did she have a head on her?’ Blades asked.

  ‘She thought he was the bee’s knees and she’d a good catch. Maybe I should have told her otherwise.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’ Peacock asked.

  ‘Something happened to her, didn’t it?’

  ‘You think Duggan had something to do with that?’ Blades asked.

  ‘Someone did, and he was someone she knew. He could have.’

  ‘You haven’t heard him say anything about it?’ Peacock asked.

  ‘I’ve never seen him to ask. I just saw him with Emma a couple of times, that’s all, and I thought, God, she’d better watch out for him. It was what he looked like, and it’s what I thought of him, but he could be like anything, for all I know. I didn’t know him.’

  ‘Young women like yourselves have instincts about men,’ Blades said.

  ‘Maybe,’ Louisa said. ‘We know we’ve got to watch out for them.’

  ‘Was Thomas Root attracted to Emma?’ Peacock asked.

  Louisa giggled, then stopped herself.

  ‘Was he?’ Blades said.

  She had to admit she had caught him leering at Emma too from time to time. ‘I suppose – there was a small smile on his face when he looked at her sometimes, as if he wished he was a bit younger, but I doubt if it went past that.’

  ‘You think?’ Blades said.

  Louisa thought of the times the good Thomas had caught her in a corner and the cuddles he’d given her. ‘Just a laugh,’ he had said. ‘Just bit of fun. You don’t mind, do you? Just keep it between the two of us.’ And he had given her another cuddle. And she had let him do it for a moment or two before brushing him off and telling him to behave himself and asking what his wife would say. But she had felt sorry for him. She knew he and Amelia had separate bedrooms and doubted if Amelia let him anywhere near her anymore. And Blades must have read something of that in her face because he said, ‘There was never a little smile on his face when he looked at you?’

  Louisa had choked at that. What would Gran say if she heard about the cuddles? What would Amelia say? And what if the street got to hear about it? She had let him.

  ‘He’s a model employer,’ she said. ‘He’s never bothered me.’

  ‘A model employer?’ Peacock said. ‘That’s a stilted way of speaking. That’s not what he told you to say, is it?’

  ‘I’ve answered your questions,’ Louisa said. ‘Is that it?’ She was tired of this. She just wanted them to go.

  ‘You’re related to Mr Root, aren’t you?’ Blades said.

  ‘On his mother’s side,’ Louisa said. ‘But not close. A lot of people around here are sort of related to each other. It’s a small town. What of it?’

  ‘Do you feel the need to protect him?’ Blades asked.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Was he up to anything with Emma?’ Peacock asked.

  ‘I’ve told you he wasn’t,’ Louisa said, and she hoped not. He was her own bit of a giggle.

  ‘So, you have,’ Blades said. ‘I don’t suppose you were around on the Saturday when the Roots left for Ramshead?’

  ‘No. Saturday’s not one of my days here.’

  ‘You didn’t see Emma on the Saturday or later?’ Blades asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘When was the last time you did see her?’

  ‘It must have been the Friday. I’m here on a Friday morning so I suppose I might have seen her that morning.’

  ‘You suppose you might?’

  ‘All right I did.’

  ‘And how did she seem? Was anything bothering her? Did she seem excited about anything?’

  Louisa thought about that. That was the day Emma had told her she had seen her and Mr Root in one of their corners and she’d said she’d tell. Louisa remembered that all right. It had been a nasty little argument and Louisa had been the one on the receiving end.

  ‘She seemed just the same as usual,’ Louisa said.

  Louisa remembered wondering why Emma had been so vehement. Was Emma really being a Miss Goody Two Shoes or did she have a thing going with Thomas herself? She asked herself if she should mention that suspicion to this inquisitive detective but for the moment at least something held her back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Thomas Root now walked into the kitchen. When he saw Blades and Peacock were questioning Louisa, the interrogative look he flashed at them was chilling. On seeing her employer, Louisa blurted out, ‘I didn’t tell them anything.’

  ‘What might you have told us?’ Peacock said, pulling his notebook and pencil out again.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean–’ The flustered Louisa looked from Blades to Peacock to Thomas Root then back again with an open but now silent mouth.

  ‘It’s all right, Louisa,’ Thomas said. ‘So, what is it you’ve been asking Louisa about?’ he asked Blades.

  Blades had been unhappy with the interview of Louisa as, at the end of it, they had discovered nothing about Mr Thomas Root to question him with, but he supposed the moment had now come and they would be having a go at him anyway. And there was now that remark of Louisa’s that could be followed up on. But he would interview Thomas Root on his own.

  ‘Thank you, Louisa. We’ve finished with you just now.’

  In reply to this, Louisa looked round at what was her own workplace, as if wondering why she was the one who should be leaving it, but tramped out anyway, a sullen look on her face.

  ‘What is it Louisa was not supposed to tell us?’ was Blades’ reply.

  ‘I don’t know of anything,’ Thomas said, ‘so I’ve no idea what she meant by that. I’m not so sure she does. You’re the police. You’re intimidating. She was probably just worried about the way anything she said might be interpreted.’

  ‘Such as?’ Blades asked.

  Thomas ignored that. ‘So, what progress have you made apart from terrifying my maid?’

  Blades noticed the way Thomas was now trying to lead the conversation. ‘You’re sure there was nothing definite Louisa was told not to tell us?’

  ‘And now you’re insulting me. I’m quite sure, and I can’t imagine what that might conceivably have been. Look, an employee of mine, Emma Simpson, is missing and I’m anxious about her. What have you done to trace her and what do you think has happened to her? I would like to know.’

  If Thomas was determined not to answer the question properly, Blades was not sure what more he could do about it but he did not like being interrogated about the investigation.

  ‘The search continues for Emma’s body,’ was all he said.

  ‘No nearer to finding that?’

  ‘No.’ Blades studied Thomas’s face. ‘What kind of young woman would you say Emma was?’ he asked him.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Thomas replied.

  ‘What did you think of her?’

  ‘She was a good worker.’

  ‘You didn’t think past that with her?’

  ‘And what do you mean by that?’

  ‘It’s just a question,’ Blades replied in a non-committal way.

  ‘She was a determined girl. I noticed that.’

  ‘Determined about what?’

  ‘Anything she did really. She made a success of things.’

  ‘How was she with customers?’

  ‘Pleasant. Polite. Respectful. Helpful. Friendly.’

  ‘So, you did notice a lot about h
er?’

  Thomas showed his irritation with a snort. ‘She was an employee. You do. You need to work out whether she’s any good at her job or not.’

  ‘And was she?’

  ‘Very.’

  ‘Did the male customers like her?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Were there any customers who showed an interest in Emma?’

  ‘She was an attractive young woman, and that wouldn’t be wasted on them, but men are usually with their wives when they come in here. They’re not going to flirt with staff in front of them. And Emma certainly wasn’t encouraged to engage in inappropriate conversations with men.’

  ‘Nobody behaved in an unsuitable way with her?’

  ‘As I’ve said, no. Not when I was there.’

  Now Peacock spoke. ‘You say she was attractive. Were you attracted to her?’

  Thomas’s look at Peacock was unfriendly, and he was obviously biting back a retort.

  ‘You’re investigating something, so I suppose I have to accept questions like that.’ But he gave Peacock another glare before he continued. ‘Emma was an employee, and, at her age, could have been my daughter.’

  But the way he said that did not make him sound innocent, Blades thought.

  ‘You said you didn’t think Duggan was good enough for her,’ Blades said.

  ‘Duggan’s a convicted bigamist. He isn’t good enough for anybody.’

  ‘You caught her with him acting in an unseemly manner, you said?’ Peacock asked.

  ‘She’s not getting pregnant on my premises.’

  ‘They’d gone that far?’ Peacock asked.

  ‘If Duggan had his way.’

  ‘Did that lead you to think this was a young woman who was up for it?’ Blades asked.

  ‘Certainly not.’ Though his flustered look suggested he had been struck on a nerve. ‘Don’t you have anything better to do with police time than waste it in asking questions like that?’ Root replied, though Blades thought the self-righteousness was overdone.

  ‘Did it annoy you when she said no to you?’ Peacock asked.

  Root started to say something but only a splutter came out. He pulled himself up to his full height, still short of either Blades or Peacock, and said, ‘That certainly didn’t happen. I wouldn’t make advances towards staff, or anyone else. I’m happily married. You can ask anyone.’

  ‘We will,’ Blades said.

  ‘Definitely,’ Peacock agreed.

  ‘And that won’t worry me,’ Root said.

  Which might be true, Blades thought, thinking back to the interview with Louisa, though there was too much bluster here. Did he have a thing going with Louisa? That would explain her protectiveness towards him.

  ‘Did Emma talk about any other young men?’ Peacock asked.

  ‘If she had, I would tell you. But she wasn’t the flighty type. She had an undesirable boyfriend. That was all.’

  Blades left it at that. Root hadn’t cleared himself, in Blades’ mind, but all they had against him were suspicions without justification for them. Blades supposed he could at least report to Moffat that he had questioned the man.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  ‘Russell Parkes’ alibi is false.’

  Blades was looking at the sneering face of Musgrave. The reporter had just interrupted them when he and Peacock had been about to motor over to Hantwell Woods, the area that was being searched that day. It was frustrating. Blades had been trying to take charge of his own case.

  ‘You’re taking a great deal of interest in this one,’ Blades said.

  ‘Aren’t you?’ Musgrave said.

  ‘Hold on a minute,’ Peacock replied.

  A smug smile appeared on Musgrave’s face.

  ‘You’re awfully sure about Parkes’ alibi,’ Blades said.

  ‘Absolutely,’ Musgrave replied. ‘Rose Weller works at the Odeon Picture House. She’s quite the pianist. Have you never been there when she’s on? And she is, every Saturday – all day. She starts off with the Saturday morning cinema for the kiddies.’

  ‘Does she indeed?’ Blades turned to Peacock. ‘I thought we checked out Duggan’s story?’

  ‘Sergeant Ryan. He and Flockhart, they verified it.’

  ‘They talked with Rose Weller, no doubt,’ Musgrave said. ‘Did they talk with Pat Naismith, the manager of the Odeon?’

  ‘Did they?’ Blades asked Peacock.

  ‘Did we know she worked there?’ Peacock replied.

  ‘We should have done.’ Blades hoped the expression on his face did not look as ineffectual as he felt. ‘What led you to this?’ Blades asked Musgrave.

  ‘A nose for the truth,’ Musgrave boasted. ‘Journalists have to do their bit and truth always helps.’

  ‘Their bit?’ Blades said.

  ‘You didn’t fight in the war, did you?’ Musgrave said but continued, giving Blades no chance to reply, ‘I learned what duty was then. It applies in peacetime too.’

  ‘Inspector Blades did his bit in the war,’ Peacock said. ‘How could a country cope without any serving police officers?’

  ‘I suppose,’ Musgrave said. ‘I didn’t mean that–’

  ‘Didn’t you?’ Peacock said.

  Then Musgrave paused. ‘A lot of people came back damaged.’

  ‘Damaged?’ Blades said.

  ‘Isn’t that what this is?’

  What was Musgrave leading up to, Blades wondered.

  ‘We get young women going missing like this. And what are the police doing about it?’

  ‘We’re working on this case,’ Peacock said.

  Then Musgrave laughed. ‘I was just at the Odeon House to see a picture show, and saw Rose Weller there, on a Saturday.’

  ‘It must be good to have the time to go to the pictures,’ Blades said. What he was thinking was that he did not quite get Musgrave and he was wondering why.

  ‘It was useful,’ Musgrave said. ‘I talked to Pat Naismith. He was happy enough to wax lyrical about his Rose. Very popular she is. Audiences have gone up since she started playing there. And he wouldn’t let her have a Saturday off. It’s his busiest day. He was very surprised when I suggested she might have been elsewhere.’

  ‘And have you talked to Rose about that?’ Blades asked.

  ‘Not yet,’ Musgrave replied.

  ‘We can beat you to something.’

  ‘All right, now give,’ Musgrave said.

  ‘What do you mean, give?’ Blades replied.

  ‘I’ve helped you with your job, now you help me with mine. Where are the investigations at the moment?’

  Blades thought about the point of despair he had been reaching and did not want to give that publicity.

  ‘Inquiries are ongoing on a number of fronts,’ he said. ‘It’s imperative we find the body.’

  ‘It’s still not turned up?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘You won’t be able to prosecute without that, will you?’

  ‘That’s why killers try to hide the corpse, but I’m not sure it’s something they should rely on.’

  ‘Doesn’t it mean Emma could still be alive?’

  ‘That would be good news. If anyone has seen her, the information would be invaluable.’

  ‘But why would she not have been in touch before now if she’s still alive?’

  ‘Information on that, if known, would also be appreciated.’

  ‘Your investigation hasn’t advanced at all, has it? You still don’t even know what you’re investigating: a missing persons case or a murder?’

  ‘After this length of time, we don’t expect to find Emma alive.’

  ‘Have you dismissed Duggan from the investigation?’

  ‘We haven’t dismissed anyone.’

  ‘Or done anything?’ Musgrave asked.

  Musgrave was going a bit over the top here, wasn’t he?

  ‘That’s not a helpful comment.’

  ‘My readers would like to be assured of the efforts the police have bee
n putting in.’

  ‘Constables have been out searching everywhere in Birtleby for Emma’s remains. They’ve also been searching a wider area outside Birtleby because we have reason to suspect a body could have been disposed of there. Neighbours have been questioned. People who knew Emma have been questioned. Reports that have been received from the public have been followed up. Statements have been taken and checked. A lot of man-hours have been expended on this case and continue to be.’

  ‘And do you know yet how Russell Parkes managed to pay off his gambling debts?’

  Blades gave Musgrave what the reporter probably thought was a satisfyingly surprised look.

  ‘And how would you know he owes money to anybody?’

  ‘When I’m not at the cinema, I’m busy digging about. It’s my job as a crime reporter.’

  ‘Don’t you think you’re going a bit beyond that?’ Blades said. Musgrave was puzzling him. ‘Journalists aren’t supposed to be doing the actual job of the police.’

  ‘The work the police ought to be doing, you mean?’

  Blades looked at him, non-plussed. Musgrave was not only ahead of them, he was getting ahead of himself.

  ‘Why such an interest in this case?’ Peacock asked.

  ‘Some of us are ambitious,’ Musgrave replied.

  ‘Aren’t we all?’ Peacock said. ‘We’re working on this. I hope you’re not going to write we’re not.’

  ‘Leave it, Sergeant,’ Blades said.

  ‘He’s always been happy enough reporting on garden fetes and school sports days before now. He’s showing a lot of energy for him.’

  ‘And he’s dug up some useful information for us,’ Blades said.

  ‘I suppose,’ Peacock said, ‘but there’s no reason to rub our faces in it.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not what you’re doing, is it?’ Blades said to Musgrave.

  There was a cheeky grin all over Musgrave’s face, but he did say, ‘No offence intended.’

  ‘And none taken,’ Blades replied. ‘And I suppose we’d better question that witness again.’

  ‘Rose should be on her way to the cinema about now,’ Musgrave said.

  ‘Thank you for the information,’ Blades said.

  Blades opened the door and climbed into the police Ford. Peacock did the same, and they drove off, nowhere near where the search for body parts was ongoing, which was where Blades would rather be, but towards the Odeon, exactly where Musgrave had directed them.