Damned by Logic

by Jeffrey Ashford

‘Who’s been talking crap?’

  ‘A man who watched you meet her and then drive her away.’

  ‘He’s ghosting you.’

  ‘Identified you from a mug shot, first glance.’

  ‘It ain’t easy to suss like that.’

  ‘Happens all the time.’

  ‘A bloke I knows was picked up for a sharp job because of a mug shot. Wasn’t him and he had to do a stretch before he could prove that. Got compensation for being wrongfully put away.’

  ‘You won’t be cleared even if you borrow a halo. A witness, as straight as a laser beam, has come up with you meeting Melanie and there won’t be a mouthpiece can shake him.’

  ‘It weren’t me.’

  Glover addressed the recording unit. ‘Mr Noyes has indicated that he needs a toilet break.’ He gave the time, switched off.

  Noyes said uneasily, ‘Didn’t say nothing about a leak. What’s going on?’

  ‘Thought you might like to understand where you sit. You met Melanie after the Helios docked and drove her away. Next thing, she’s carved up and murdered. Even a halfwitted jury will accept what the prosecution is going to say. You wanted fun, so you drove Melanie out of town to somewhere nice and quiet. She had taste so didn’t fancy a roll with you and tried to fight you off. You used a knife to calm her down and, as happens, became over excited. You stripped her of clothes, dropped her in the woods thinking she wouldn’t be found until she was just a heap of anonymous bones.

  ‘Because of what you did, the judge will send you down for long enough to make certain the only way you come out of jail is in a coffin.’

  They waited.

  Noyes muttered something unintelligible.

  ‘Give yourself a break. Tell us what happened after you drove away from the docks. We’ll let the judge know you helped us and he’ll maybe give you an old age outside.’ Glover switched on the recording machine, detailed the time. ‘Mr Noyes, have you considered the likely consequences of you meeting Melanie Caine at the docks on her return from a cruise on the Helios, driving her away, and then her being found murdered?’

  Noyes decided he was in the shit and if he weren’t birdbrained, he’d struggle to climb out. ‘He just said I was to go to the docks and pick up a bird.’

  ‘Did he name her?’

  ‘Never said nothing.’

  ‘Who was “he”?’

  ‘Never got told.’

  ‘A pity. What did Melanie call him?’

  ‘Pie.’

  ‘If you’re trying to two-time us ...’

  ‘I swear to God that’s straight. She didn’t call him nothing else.’

  ‘Pie?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where’s he from?’

  ‘How would I know? Speaks English good, but there’s a touch of the sun in him.’

  ‘Where did you drive Melanie to?’

  ‘Can’t say.’ Noyes noticed Glover’s expression. ‘Straight, I didn’t know the place good and he just kept telling me turn right, turn left.’

  ‘You ended up where?’

  ‘At a house.’

  ‘What kind?’

  ‘In a row.’

  ‘Terraced house?’

  ‘If that’s what you call ’em.’

  ‘You went inside with them?’

  ‘Was told to stay in the car.’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How long were they inside?’

  ‘Thought he’d never come out.’

  ‘How did he look when he did?’

  ‘Like when he went in.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Didn’t.’

  ‘You asked what he’d been doing?’

  ‘He ain’t the kind of bloke to ask.’

  ‘Were his clothes disturbed, was there blood on them?’

  ‘Didn’t notice none.’

  ‘He’d just sliced a woman to death and hadn’t any blood on him?’

  ‘I’m telling you I didn’t look.’

  Glover took a gamble. ‘You did another job with him six days later.’

  ‘Not me.’

  ‘Bracken Lane. Number thirty-four.’

  ‘Don’t know nothing about it.’

  ‘Your dabs say you do.’

  For the first time, Noyes spoke with some confidence. ‘You ain’t got no dabs because ...’ He stopped abruptly.

  ‘Because you were wearing gloves?’

  There was another and longer pause.

  ‘Did you threaten Mrs Ansell to death or was it Pie?’

  Silence.

  ‘If it was you, you’ll be charged with her murder. And her murder being tied up with Melanie’s, you’re lying when you say you never did the second job.’

  Noyes would never finger a co-worker; that was, unless it was in his interests to do so.

  ‘It was him, not me.’

  ‘Carry on and explain how you broke in.’

  ‘There was them others.’

  ‘Name them.’

  ‘Ain’t seen any of ’em before. The twirler, he was real class.’

  ‘And the others?’

  ‘Just muscle.’

  ‘So you three were redundant. Keep talking.’

  ‘He wanted to know where she’d burned the monkey. She was scared so silly she couldn’t talk and he puts his hand on her throat and says he’ll throttle her if she don’t tell. She went out like he’d been squeezing real hard.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘Said I was to drive him to the airport.’

  ‘Which?’

  ‘Heathrow.’

  ‘Where did he book to?’

  ‘How would I know?’

  ‘You telling me you didn’t stay with him to find out so as you could shop him if that’d do you any good?’

  ‘Don’t work that way.’

  ‘You know any other? What was his name?’

  ‘I said.’

  ‘Try again.’

  ‘Pie.’

  ‘Still seems too unlikely.’

  ‘I’m telling it straight.’

  ‘I’d have to be wearing shorts to accept that. I am going to arrest you on a charge of breaking and entering in the company of others, as yet unknown. You do not have to say anything ...’ He spoke the words automatically, his thoughts elsewhere; for Noyes, there was no need to listen, he knew them.

  They went down to the charge room where the formal arrest was made. Noyes’ pockets were emptied, his shoe laces and belt removed, placed in a bag. He was taken to a cell.

  Back in the front room, Glover looked at his watch. ‘Is the canteen still active?’

  Frick answered. ‘Only tea and coffee from the machines.’

  ‘Would there be a meal in a pub?’

  ‘Can’t rightly say.’

  ‘The Golden Goose does a good plate of Italian. We’ll try there.’

  They walked the four hundred yards to the public house. The barman said the kitchen staff had stopped serving, but might be persuaded to provide something. Publicans liked to keep on good terms with the police.

  ‘See if they’ll play after you’ve poured me a whisky and ...’ He looked at Frick.

  ‘A half of bitter would go down a treat.’

  They carried their drinks over to a table and sat below a poor painting of a nineteenth century man-of-war. They drank. Frick was the first to speak. ‘Seemed like until we had that ID we weren’t going to make it.’

  ‘“Audaces fortuna juvat.”’

  ‘How’s that?’

  ‘Fortune favours the brave. The only Latin I ever managed to learn. I was told it meant success with the girls.’

  ‘The Romans knew a thing or two.’

  In the early evening the next day, members of the CID were called to the conference room. Glover addressed them. ‘I’m not going to waste time repeating what you already know, but will confirm what you already think. Melanie Caine’s and Mrs Ansell’s cases are stuck fast in the mud. We have learned the details of the crimes,
but not the name of the man who organized the importation of the diamonds, who murdered Melanie because she was unable to produce the diamonds she had been carrying.

  ‘We can accept it was the same man who organized the break-in at Ansell’s home and, in her husband’s absence, threatened to strangle her if she did not tell him where she had burned the ape. She suffered a vagal inhibition and died.

  ‘We have the name of a man who has committed two murders and no idea of who he is other than that he is supposed to be called a name like Pie, may be a foreigner who speaks reasonable English, is of a very vicious nature.

  ‘Unsurprisingly, the national and local media are remarking on our lack of progress; the chief super wonders if we are on holiday. So I am asking if we have missed something essential to the solution of the two cases.

  ‘When you leave, read all the reports again, very thoroughly, listen to the interviews again, use your imaginations, think horizontally and if you come across any fact, any detail which has been overlooked but may be significant, shout it loud. I am unlikely to find it any more unlikely than some of the reports I have received in the past.’

  A few chuckles.

  ‘That is all I have to say. Can anyone add anything?’

  Belinda stood. ‘Sir.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I began to wonder why Melanie called the ape Georgie. Mrs Greene told me that Melanie gave her the impression of disliking men, as to be expected, knowing her trade. So one might expect her to have chosen a female name. She led a hard life ...’

  ‘Wouldn’t have done much if it had been a soft one,’ someone called out.

  ‘She would have had to accept she had a limited number of years in which she would work as profitably as she had been, then she would have to take to the streets.’

  ‘Five quid a flicker,’ said the same person.

  ‘I should like to hear what the constable has to say.’ Glover’s remark was more threat than comment. ‘Yes, Belinda?’

  The use of her Christian name encouraged her to think Glover was ready to consider what she said and not automatic-ally scorn it. ‘It’s common for people to name cats and dogs after someone they know or knew because that reminds them of a happy relationship or time. When Melanie was chosen to carry the illicit diamonds into England, she would have been paid a solid sum; nice, but not nearly enough to guarantee to keep her off the streets. But she believed the diamonds could do that. So she called the ape Georgie.’

  Glover, who’d remained standing, put his right hand in his trouser pocket and jiggled some coins. ‘Grant that’s possible, but how does it take us any further?’

  ‘Guv, do you remember “Taffy was a Welshman”?’

  He didn’t answer.

  ‘There’s another nursery rhyme, “Georgie Porgie pudding and pie”. I got to wondering if she had named the ape Georgie because someone with a name the same or very similar to one of those four was running her in the diamond racket. I rang the Rex Cruising Company and asked them to provide a full passenger list for the Helios’ last cruise.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘They refused to do so.’

  ‘I’ll make certain we receive it.’

  Glover called Belinda to his office. ‘The passenger list is there.’ He pointed at his desk.

  ‘Any luck, guv?’

  ‘You came up with the idea, so you can tell me whether your imagination had a field day.’

  She picked up the three sheets of paper, read quickly, then again more slowly. ‘Piera! Pronounce the i, as in “piper” and you start Pie ... A K Piera was travelling on a Sierra Leone passport.’

  ‘I’ll give you a fifty-fifty chance of being right. Get on to someone at the airport who can provide details of what flight and to what destination, Piera, a Sierra Leonian, has recently flown.’

  ‘Should I explain to the skipper what’s happening?’

  ‘In the circumstances, I think it will be better if I tell him. Sergeant Frick may be ... How should I put it? Peeved, if you start telling him what you’re about to do.’

  Lufti Rorhart, of the Sierra Leone Selection Trust (Diamond area) looked across the desk at Kewsi Piera. He brought a handkerchief out of the pocket of his khaki shorts and brushed the sweat from his forehead, face and neck. It seemed to be a fact of air-conditioning that when the temperature rose still further, it would fail. ‘The police in England wish to speak to you.’

  Piera offered no response.

  ‘I understand they believe you may be able to help them regarding the death of a woman who was tortured and murdered; additionally, you may be able to answer why a married woman suddenly died from shock.’ Rorhart was a large man, in good physical condition. He laughed frequently, which caused some wrongly to judge he treated his work less seriously than many. ‘What’s made them think so?’

  ‘How could I know?’ Piera answered. He had a scar on his right cheek which marked an argument with an illegal miner who had demanded a better return for the diamonds he was offering. ‘It’s balls.’

  ‘You have no knowledge concerning either crime?’

  ‘None. Or of any others they can think up.’

  ‘You will not, then, object to flying to England to convince them they’re up a greasy pole?’

  ‘Ain’t no need to waste the time.’

  ‘When in England, did you meet a woman by the name of Melanie Caine?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘They say you sailed on the Helios around the Mediterranean.’

  ‘What if I did?’

  ‘She was on that ship.’

  ‘So were hundreds of other people.’

  ‘And amongst them, Moses Dumbuya, who was keeping a low profile while watching Melanie Caine who was believed to be collecting the latest batch of illicitly mined diamonds from a courier in Beirut. We spoke to the English authorities to warn them she would be in possession of the diamonds. Unfortunately, a search on her arrival failed to find them.’

  ‘Ain’t any of that to do with me.’

  ‘Then to keep them quiet, fly to England and prove them wrong.’

  ‘Why should I bother?’

  ‘Can’t really say, unless ... Do you remember Taylor-Smith?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘That’s strange. He was from Freetown. A male ancestor was an Irishman which explained his name. He worked for us and received information which might identify the man who organized most of the exportation of illegally mined diamonds. Before he could name names, he had his throat cut. He questioned you shortly before he was murdered.’

  ‘Crap.’

  ‘I have his report in which he states he did.’ Rorhart tapped a file on his desk. ‘Because there was only his recent questioning of you to tie you in with his murder, it was presumed your evidence had to be accepted. But since England has given us details of your connection with the illegal diamond trade at their end, it becomes necessary to carry out a fuller, more thorough investigation into the presumption you were responsible directly or indirectly for the murder of Taylor-Smith. If, of course, you are in England to prove your innocence of any criminal activity there, you will not be here to assist us in our renewed investigation. I believe the quality of imprisonment there is considered preferable to here. You will decide whether to go voluntarily to England or stay here and help us. To allow you time to choose your course of action before we have your decision, we will first go to your home and search it.’

  Two objects of interest were found in the top drawer of a locally designed and made chest-of-drawers in Piera’s large and well-built house, a sharp contrast to others in the area. But for Rorhart, they would have been dismissed as of no consequence; he had learned that some criminals seemed compelled to keep mementoes of their crimes.

  The knife was sent to the forensic laboratory in Freetown. There, the handles were removed from the blade; on the inside of these were, as Rorhart had hoped, stains which marked blood which had seeped between handle and blade and darkened.

  Long, diffic
ult, at times frustrating tests showed the stains to be of human blood from two individuals. DNA proved some had come from Taylor-Smith. A profile of the DNA from the second person was mailed to England, along with photos and a detailed description of an ornate locket that had been the second article of interest found in the chest-of-drawers.

  ‘It’s winter already,’ Glover said, as Frick entered the room.

  A gross exaggeration, but the driving rain which intermittently lashed the windows as the gusting wind redirected it, made the remark seem feasible.

  ‘A statement from Sierra Leone, sir,’ Frick said, as he placed several sheets of paper on the desk.

  Glover read them. ‘Do we have Melanie Caine’s DNA?’

  ‘From the autopsy report.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘A match.’

  ‘The locket?’

  ‘Twin of the insurer’s description and the photo of a piece of Mrs Ansell’s jewellery. Her husband has told us that it was a gift from her mother and she constantly wore it. Piera must have seen it on the dressing table and nicked it.’

  ‘So we’ve finally landed the bastard.’

  ‘Only if he’s released out there before he dies of old age.’

  ‘I’ll rest with that ... Josh ...’ He stopped.

  Frick waited for an unwelcome comment or order.

  ‘You’ll agree we’ve broken the case thanks to Belinda?’

  ‘She’s helped.’

  ‘She should be congratulated.’

  ‘We’d have got there without all that Georgie Porgie stuff. But I suppose ...’

  ‘She’ll welcome a word or two from you.’

  Frick left. Glover lit a cigarette. He opened his office window and leant out as he inhaled deeply. He was entitled to a forbidden pleasure.

  Six minutes later, he reluctantly stubbed out what was left of the cigarette. He walked out of the room to meet Belinda making for the general room. He stopped her. ‘Have you anything in hand which can’t be left until tomorrow?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Then perhaps you’ll see Mr Ansell and tell him we have received information which clears him completely of having had any part in his wife’s death or that of Melanie Caine and I will immediately be in touch with the CPS to tell them his arrest is to be revoked. Since he will have been under considerable stress, I do not expect you back here until tomorrow.’