All fellow diners looked on as no treat was forthcoming but the dog remained seated. Its expression clearly hoping its mistress would falter, and, share an item or two.
The lady stood and then instructed the dog to remain on the chair and then pointing to the remaining food, said “no" pointing to the plate.
The dog was obedient and so the owner arrived back and soon the third coffee followed. This was consumed with the remaining food. Nothing was given to the dog no matter how sorrowful it looked.
Then, the lady owner finally turned and spoke to the gazing audience, many smiling at the dog, most with pity in their eyes.
“My dog has no expectation of receiving anything. I never give it tit-bits, did you see her look at my food and me eating it? You know she is fascinated with human food. If you were to now all eat and call her over she would sit and watch your food and see you eat it all. It is not that she expects any, no, she would just like to see what you are eating.”
Jack mumbled to Anne, “That is some bullshit if ever I heard it, the bloody weirdo, she sounds like some old maid from down south. I met the likes of her for forty years down there, the truth is the bloody dog wants something to eat, the selfish bitch.”
With that the lady now pulled out some make up and her lips were once again bright red, just as Girda arrived with the fourth cup of coffee.
The empty cups and plates were removed save for the coffee cup, just brought.
With that Mrs Delwright arrived with a smile, “Hello, a new client I believe, welcome to the Pantry, I hope you enjoyed our coffee, I hear you tried four varieties, well done."
One can always go too far, for then the lady customer who, having put away her make up, turned to gaze around the walls.
The pantry always exhibited a fine selection of fine and modern art, at least, that is what Jack had been told it was.
“I see, Mrs Delwright is it?” exclaimed the lady.
“Yes it is how can I help?” came an instant response.
The new client smiled and retorted.
“Looking around at the paintings on the wall Mrs Delwright, I must say they are very good. I see they cost from forty to one hundred pounds. I think Mrs Delwright, you are to be congratulated in this display and your so generous intentions.”
Mrs Delwright looked and then replied, “Yes, I try to be helpful but the good intentions, I am sorry I am not with you.”
The coffee drinking client then hit the jackpot, “Yes Mrs Delwright, for you to raise such money from these in such a good cause."
Delwright looked in amazement and clearly in some confusion.
“Yes,” said the client, “These paintings clearly done by the infant children from the primary school, was it year one or two? I mean the splodges of paint, the figures that do not look anything or anyone. I can see no-one else displaying them. Yes, well done you are to congratulated."
With mouth wide open a customer on the next table leaned over and whispered, her head between the seated dog and its coffee drinking owner, “They were done by Mrs Delwright’s daughter, she is a professional artist in London.”
Turning, leaving, then slamming the kitchen door Mrs Delwright had been severely wounded.
“Hello Mr Richards and you Mrs Richards. The two looked up to see Doris Scott-Ling standing at the entrance, smiling.
“Ah," she continued, "I see you have met Detective Superintendent Susan Kinsella, our head of CID. Maam, this is the famous or shall I say, infamous Jack Richards, known as Jack the Hat.”
There was stunned silence in the room, the blunder of Miss Kinsella regarding the wall paintings which were now being removed by Girda, then at her dismay in meeting Jack Richards.
Miss Kinsella immediately recalled her skills of public interview techniques and the lectures on recovering a hopeless position, taught during her police administration courses at the university, they clicked in.
“I must say Mr Richards, your reputation as the finest detective ever in the annals of the British police has gone before you. I must say however, I am sure you will appreciate things have changed since your day. We have more modern equipment and aids, technical equipment and such things far in advance of anything available during your service."
Jack nodded, said nothing but nudged Anne, they both stood and left, Jack saying good bye to Doris and "good day to you madam," to Kinsella.
As he left Jack threw down both free biscuits onto the floor. The dog jumped down and ravenously consumed them, Miss Kinsella sitting with her mouth wide open.
Chapter 3
The following morning Kinsella and Scott-Ling arrived at the office right on nine. There was a surprise visitor seated and waiting in the foyer at the police station.
“Good morning Superintendent” called Aubrey Carter “am I pleased to see you both?”
“Indeed,” retorted Kinsella as she completed signing the on duty staff register, “Pray tell the nature of your anxiety, clearly from your agitated demeanour you appear to be very anxious.”
Doris, the more consolatory came in, “Please, Mr Carter what you have to relate would be better said in the privacy of our office. If you would be kind enough to follow us we can attend to your concerns then."
“Sergeant,” called Kinsella, “Please direct that Day, cleaning woman to bring drinks to my office, the same as the last occasion, a large cafeteria of black coffee.”
The three turned left, and finally arrived and were seated in the CID room.
Coats thrown over the spare chairs, the investigating duo awaited the update.
About to commence, Carter was interrupted when May Day arrived, a tray in hand. She placed this down and Kinsella first of all stared at her, a clear signal for her to leave as soon as possible.
When May complied, this was followed by a glare and a nod towards Doris to do the pouring out.
Carter then commenced “I have visited the office of Mr Jordan Rochester, our family solicitor for so many years. My mother was actually a secretary to Mr Rochester’s father who had the practice before him. Having spoken with him I believe I may have some information that the police may find very interesting.”
“Please, a moment, Mr Carter, Inspector Scott-Ling will take your statement in written form.”
He nodded in appreciation, it was then the telephone rang. “Who the blast can that be?” thought Kinsella, Doris answered it, then looked up and said, “It is the Chief Constable Maam, urgent she says it is.”
Kinsella stood, taking the handset she said, “Good morning Chief Constable, how may I assist you?”
There was a pause, then, she put down the handset and reached for her coat and then the hat the one two large for her head, last worn in Delwright’s the previous Saturday.
“Please excuse me, the Chief Constable wishes to confer with me as a matter of urgency. I will leave you Mr Carter in the capable hands of Inspector Scott-Ling. I take it you are happy to take the statement without my guidance, Inspector."
Doris nodded and then continued to write. Had she spoken her thoughts, she would likely have appeared herself before the Chief on a charge of insubordination to her senior officer.
Arriving outside Miss Kinsella quickly took her dog for a brisk walk around the car park. About to climb into her car she saw one of the maintenance staff, “I say, you, get a shovel." she pointed to the pile of dog droppings now in the centre of the car park. Pointing down to this and then to the dustbin, the man took the message.
He walked over, his mouth moving but no sound could be heard of what he was saying. Had she have been a lip reader she would have realised the words included those spoken by the youths leaving Chester races, partly drunk after losing all their hard earned money gambling on the horses.
She arrived at the office of the chief, and was soon standing before her. She informed Kinsella that there were rumbles from the Commissioner at the apparent lack of progress in the case of Mrs Carter. Her husband, a long-time member of the same Freemason’s lodge as
Commissioner Leighton Knox who had made it known he would visit headquarters that very morning for an update.
Kinsella then updated Chief Constable Watkiss in minute detail of what was thus far known plus the samples taken and that results were anticipated soon.
The Chief, having listened, then directed that follow up enquiries be made with the laboratory to speed things up and to ensure this case was receiving the highest priority.
This done, Kinsella returned to her office. As she approached the front door she saw Aubrey Carter get into his car and drive away.
She entered the building and arriving in her office, it was vacant, not a sign of Doris.
Taking off her coat then picking up the receiver she enquired from the front office if the whereabouts of Inspector Scott-Ling were known.
She was told The DI had gone to the hospital to see Mr Jock Peters, the Coroner’s Officer. All she could do therefore was to wait. "No point in following," she thought, for there was every likelihood she would end up witnessing another of those dreadful post-mortem examinations.
Jock Peters meanwhile was more than surprised to see Doris arrive. It was thirty minutes later that after the first examination completed by the pathologist, he was able to speak with Doris in the adjoining chapel.
What she related to him took his breath away. He assured her that he would have a full statement on her desk before he finished duty that day.
She left and then telephoned her office.
“Superintendent?” it is Doris Scott-Ling, Mr Carter did indeed have very useful information.”
“I hope so Inspector, I have just been given a rocket by the Chief, action, she wants action, the Police Commissioner is on the warpath.”
“Maam, can you please meet me as soon as possible at the Crown Court, I will explain the details to you when you arrive, this being an open line.”
The call ended and so Kinsella left, once again her mind filled with hope Doris had something very useful, after all this rush.
Arriving in foyer of the court, then showing security guards their warrant cards they were permitted inside. One guard, an ex military policeman and thus keen to ensure all the rules were kept insisted that the briefcases of both visitors should be opened for his inspection.
This completed Doris made a request to see the clerk to the court; an urgent application was to be made before the Judge. The Lord Justice Stevens. The security guard complied and went to his desk, picked up the telephone handset and made the call. Doris and Kinsella walked into the police room. Doris updated her boss as to what Carter had told her. She then proceeded to write out her statement of application.
If was not long before the two detectives found themselves standing before Lord Justice Stevens, the district High Court Judge.
Still wearing his red robes and white wig, which in the surroundings of the oak panelled room with its large oak desk, and oil paintings around the walls of judges long since past, looked like a scene mentioned in a book by Charles Dickens.
The Judge looked up, “Inspector, I have not seen you for some time, you were assisting Mr Jack Richards at that time, is Jack the Hat on the matter you are to present to the court today?”
“No My Lord,” replied Doris “may I please introduce you to Detective Superintendent Kinsella, our new head of CID.”
The Judge nodded, said nothing in reply to this but added, “Inspector, please relate to the court the details of your application, I take it you have a written record for the court?”
“I do My Lord," she held out the document, which the clerk reached over, took and then handed to the Judge.
She then handed the Inspector the holy book, Doris knew the procedure without the need to read from the card.
“I swear by Almighty God that the evidence which I shall give will be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Doris Scott-Ling, Detective Inspector of the Chester City Police. My Lord I submit to you today an application for a search warrant in a case of murder. This warrant is of a very urgent nature as you will see from the contents of my application.”
The Judge read it twice. He looked up, “this does surprise me, yes Inspector, your application is granted. My clerk will make out the warrant immediately.”
He now stood to leave, “I must get back to the trial, part heard, oh if you see him please give my regards to Mr Richards, yes a fine detective, you say he is not on this case.”
“I will and no My Lord, he is not,” replied Doris, wishing he was.
Kinsella looking on with some indignation was sure the old man in red had mumbled, “Pity,”
Half an hour later the large white crime scene van, two patrol cars and the unmarked car of the CID department arrived at the target house.
It was as usual a uniformed officer who forced the door with the ramming tool designed for the purpose.
The house entered, the forensic officers got to work. At the end the search samples were taken and these, once secured and labelled, were handed to the driver of one of the patrol cars which drove off at speed.
The door of the house was secured by a local carpenter and locksmith, the investigating team left, their duty done for the day.
It was two days later that Doris once again found herself seated in her car driving her boss. This was the day, for Kinsella, the day when she would proudly be able to say she had successfully investigated and detected her first murder. This would certainly be at the top of her list of presentations to her colleagues at the forthcoming senior command course.
Now seated and patiently waiting, occasionally looking up at the arrivals list, “God,” thought Doris “let us hope there is no delay.”
Kinsella meanwhile was walking to and fro speaking on her telephone. The first call being to the Director of the Forensic Department at Birmingham, seeking urgent action. This completed, another was made to Chester Police information room. Both completed Kinsella sat with a smile of satisfaction.
This was to be her day, yes, thus far the high point of the cases she had investigated, her first murder and it would be detected. Yes, this would be the highlight of her presentations to be given at the college.
Back in Chester in the office of the Chester News, the new reporter set on making name for herself, was Bessie Bromley. Contacts, it was all about contacts the editor had said, local knowledge and contacts brought forth the good and exclusive stories either no–one else had, or at least before they did so.
The telephone rang and she was so surprised that she dropped her pen on hearing from her contact. This would be the story of the year.
She put down the telephone and dashed to the office of her boss, updating him on the tip off, he even smiled for once. All she had to do now was get the story and publish it as an exclusive. The fee to the informant, a copper, was substantial but if it proved to be accurate, it would be well worth it.
Some miles away at Manchester airport arrivals, suddenly the doors opened and a rush of people, all anxious to leave the airport for the tranquillity of their home. The brown and smiling faces of those pulling their trolleys loaded with suitcases, was a sight of splendour, this would soon be abruptly stopped for two passengers.
Kinsella and Doris stood, “Excuse me sir, madam” said Doris.
The couple looked up in both surprise and consternation. Kinsella stepped forward, “Mr Ronald Gittins and Nurse Kyle Gittins. I am Detective Superintendent Kinsella of the Chester police I arrest you both on suspicion of the murder of one Iris Carter, You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence, if you fail to mention, when questioned, something which you may later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?”
With that two uniformed police officers stood forward and taking hold of Ron, his hands were placed behind his back, he was then handcuffed.
Two female officers did likewise to Kyle and then both prisoners were led away having thus far not spoken.
Once placed inside the police people ca
rrier, their escorts seated next to them. Ron was noted with his head down, shaking it from side to side. A police officer for thirty years, he had left with an exemplary conduct certificate now this, arrested for murder of all things, in any other circumstances he thought looking at the date on his watch, wondering if it was the first of April, and “fools day,” In any other circumstances he would have been sure the whole thing was a very distasteful practical joke.
Kyle suddenly broke down sobbing. A nurse for so many years, her qualifications were the highest attainable. She was registered as a Health Visitor, Certified Midwife and State Registered Nurse. She was more highly qualified than most matrons in hospitals. Her vast experience in many fields over the years all now culminating in her being arrested for the murder of a patient. It was indeed incomprehensible.
The Judas Murders Page 7
