‘Why should that present a problem?’ said his lordship, haughtily.
‘Apart from the adverse publicity, it shouldn’t present a problem. The problem might come if Savage is not charged and he is released on bail.’
‘I don’t quite follow you.’
‘At some point, he’ll become aware of Adina Jenkins’ witness statement and what she said about him. That being the case we’ll need you to ensure that there’s no strife between Savage and Mrs Jenkins.’
‘I see what you mean. Well, please let me know if he does get bail. I’m sure we could keep him busy and away from the main house.’
‘I will, of course. Thank you, my lord.’ Cooper took his leave and Jenkins ushered him to the front door. After seeing the detective off of the premises, Jenkins returned to his lordship in the study.
‘Well, Jenkins. What do you make of that?’
‘My lord. I really can’t see that Savage would be capable of something like that. I don’t think I’ve ever heard the man as much as raise his voice.’
‘Yes. Completely out of character, I would say. We must get him some legal representation. Will you get Green and Green Solicitors for me?’
Jenkins did his master’s bidding and returned with the telephone, which he placed on the desk next to his lordship’s wheelchair. He handed him the receiver. ‘My lord, I have Mr Geoffrey Green on the telephone for you now.’
‘Thank you, Jenkins.’ Jenkins withdrew and closed the door behind him.
‘Hello Geoffrey.’
‘Good afternoon, my lord. How are you today?’
‘Surviving, thank you. I have been meaning to contact you about some amendments that I wish to make regarding my will. However, I also have a criminal matter that I wish to discuss with you involving one of my staff who has just been arrested for murder.’
His lordship gave the solicitor a summary of the circumstances surrounding Sister Margaret’s murder and the arrest of Savage.
‘My lord, it’s been a few years since I dealt with criminal cases. However, if you are content, I will instruct our junior partner, Reginald Cohen, to act for Mr Savage. He is a good man. He can start by attending the police station, and I would be happy to deal with the amendments to your will.’
‘Fine. When do you think you could come and see me?’
‘I could come to the Hall at 5pm, if that would be convenient, my lord?’
‘Yes, that would be good. Would you have time to dine with me afterwards?’
‘I would indeed, my lord. Thank you.’
‘Splendid. I will see you then.’
*
After leaving the Hall, Cooper made his way on foot to Keeper’s Cottage where he met Ian Mills, who was standing in the front garden eking out the last few draws from a cigarette. On seeing his boss walking up the path towards him, he stubbed it out on a gatepost.
‘How are you getting on with the search then, Ian?’
‘We’re about half way through, governor. Nothing of interest downstairs. The others are upstairs at present. There’s not much in the way of clothing, but what little there is we’re going to take for forensic examination. We still need to search a couple of small outbuildings at the back of the place. The dogs seem to have finally settled down though, which is a blessing. They’re a bit of a nuisance.’
‘Good. I’ve spoken to his lordship and he’s given his consent for us to search the other buildings, the greenhouse and workshop. So, I’ll leave you to it then, Ian. Let me know if you need anything.’
*
On his return to the police station, Cooper caught up with Brian Pratt. He informed him of the fact that Lord Roding was arranging legal representation for Savage, which was to be provided by his own solicitors.
‘Yes, governor. Their Mr Cohen has been on the blower already. I gave him a run down on what Mr Savage is saying. Basically, Savage has provided an alibi. Apparently, on the afternoon of the murder, he was in the company of a Mrs Ivy Baker until 5.30pm.’
‘Then we need to visit the lady to check his alibi straight away, Brian. Take young Miss Collins with you.’
Later that afternoon, having made their enquiry, Pratt and Collins returned to the inspector’s office. By this time, the search team had also completed their business and so Cooper debriefed them all.
‘How did you get on, Brian?’
‘We got statements from Mrs Ivy Baker and her sister Agnes, and they seem entirely genuine and respectable. They both, quite independently of each other, corroborated Stephen Savage’s statement in every respect. So, he has a firm alibi up to 5.30pm on the day of the murder.’
‘That leaves him with a window of half an hour up to 6.00pm, but it certainly puts to bed any notion of Savage being in the sister’s company outside the summerhouse at 4.30pm,’ observed Cooper, ‘Ian, what’s the position on your side?’
‘We’ve completed a search of all of the relevant premises on the estate, governor. We found nothing of any startling interest. We have taken all his clothes for forensic examination, just in case. But there are none with any visible signs of blood on them.’
‘OK. Brian, have you taken the clothes he was arrested in?’
‘Yes, governor. There was no sign of blood on them either. I must say, whenever I’ve seen him, he’s been wearing the same clothes and he told me, in interview, they were the ones he was dressed in on the day of the murder.’
‘Yes. He’s not exactly Mr Sartorial Elegance, is he? Anyway, we’ll need to send them all to the lab for examination, but he’s got to have some clothes to be going on with. What’s he wearing now?’
‘He’s wearing an old boiler suit at the minute.’
Cooper turned his attention to Collins. ‘Linda, will you get ten quid out of petty cash, go into town, and get him some new clothes and shoes? If you hurry, you should just be able to catch the shops before they shut for the day. Please keep it modest, mind!’
‘Will do, governor.’ Realising there was no time to lose, Linda Collins left the meeting to go to the cells to get Savage’s clothing and shoe sizes, and then she would dash up to the High Street. The station sergeant would obtain the cash for her while she was speaking to the prisoner.
‘Right,’ continued Cooper. ‘We need to get a witness statement from Mr Savage based on what he’s saying about his alibi. Then I’m going to arrange for him to be released without charge. What we have now is only circumstantial evidence. He isn’t completely in the clear, mind you. He would still have had a small window of opportunity, but we’ll have to wait a while for the forensic results from the examination of his clothing. If we get anything more tangible later, we can always rearrest him.’
*
Later that evening, Stephen Savage was released on bail pending further enquiries, to return to Colchester Police Station at a date in the future. During the interview, he had been shown the witness statement of Adina Jenkins, so Cooper made a point of telephoning Lord Roding to explain the position before he was released from custody.
Linda Collins appeared to have spent the ten pounds wisely and, on his release, Savage was the smartest he had been in a long while. He was driven home by Pratt and Collins, and on his arrival, he was welcomed by the two Labradors, like a returning hero.
*
It was mid-evening, and Cooper wasn’t intending to stay in the office for much longer and run the risk of getting involved in anything else. He knew he’d had enough for one day, and if he was needed, they could always dig him out from home.
‘There’s not really a lot more we can do tonight, Brian. I think we could both do with an early night. So, don’t hang around too late, will you? Stand the team down until the morning. We’ll have a briefing and catch up around 10.00am.’
Cooper strode off through the town centre and eventually stopped off at his local, the Hole in the Wall. His body ac
hed for refreshment, having not eaten since breakfast, but, as he couldn’t find a chip shop that was still open, he’d have to make do with a pint of Double Diamond and a pickled egg. He settled at a table in a corner of the bar and reflected on the day’s events. The next thing he was aware of, was somebody gently shaking him.
‘Alby, Alby, time to go home, mate.’ It was the barman. Alby had nodded off.
He left the pub, took the few short steps along the path to his digs, and quietly entered the house. Errol, the dog, had got used to the sound and smell of him by now, and he didn’t turn a hair, but Cooper, despite his best efforts to remain silent, had registered on his landlady’s radar.
A shout came out of the darkness, ‘Who’s that?’
‘Pearl. It’s me, Alby. Sorry to disturb you.’
Pearl, his landlady, lived at the rear of the house. She was loud, brassy and ample bosomed, but strangely attractive, and she was constantly in search of a man. Cooper’s better judgement told him that he should keep their relationship business-like and that it would be best he didn’t get involved with her socially, now or at any time.
The hall light came on, and there she stood, dressed in her finery and holding her stilettos, one in each hand. She had obviously only just come home from a night out. She didn’t look too bad, or was Cooper weakening?
‘Ah, it’s you, Alby! Had a busy day, darling? Why don’t you come and have a nightcap with me?’
‘Oh. I don’t think so, Pearl. I’ve got to be up early in the morning.’
‘Oh please, Alby.’
‘All right. Just the one.’ He didn’t want to upset her.
Pearl led him to her accommodation at the back of the house and shut the door behind them. When Cooper had first taken up residence, she had let it be known that she was available to “turn down his sheets”, should he ever feel the need. He thought the old “sauce box” was just pulling his leg, so he had ignored her remarks. He was about to find out that she wasn’t. There was nothing cultured about this Pearl.
5
DAY FIVE
Saturday 16th July 1949
Cooper was restless. The house and its residents were silent, which suited him well as he was hoping to avoid bumping into the “she devil”, who had so comprehensively taken advantage of him the previous evening.
He quietly got dressed and tiptoed along the hall to the kitchen where he nearly fell over Errol, his landlady’s springer spaniel. Although, according to his certificate of pedigree, the dog’s name was “Flynn of the East”, Cooper had bestowed on him the nickname “Errol”, which seemed more appropriate, since he tried to have sex with everything that moved. Errol had got to his feet, in excited expectation, the moment Cooper had stepped into the kitchen. After a quick rinse and shave in the sink, he took the beast over to Castle Park for some much-needed exercise.
And exercise they did. After twenty minutes of chasing the dog around the park, they emerged from the Castle Park gates with Cooper panting and sweating. No need to jog to work today, he told himself. He turned right and walked along the High Street, with Errol finally back on the lead. He’d struggled to round up the little bugger, who as soon as he was released, had scampered off into the undergrowth to chase rabbits without as much as a backward glance. On reaching his digs, Cooper returned Errol to the kitchen, had another quick wash and went on his way.
He dutifully made a point of checking on Sadie at the shop, but, once again, she started using the B word, “Brenda”. He had certainly resolved that conundrum to his own satisfaction, but it still had worrying prospects for him, and, for now at least, he wasn’t prepared to discuss it further. He caught the apple that was thrown to him and moved on swiftly along the High Street to the police station. He got to the office, made himself a cup of tea from the tap, and settled into work mode.
Cooper later spoke to the troops and set out his plan for the day.
‘Brian, I want you and Miss Collins with me. We need to go and see her ladyship up in London. But, first, I’m going to have to see the boss to bring him up to speed regarding Mr Savage.’
‘Are we going by rattler or using the car, governor?’
‘Car, I think, Brian.’
Cooper made a telephone call to the superintendent’s office and spoke to Mavis whose turn it was to work on a Saturday morning.
‘Is, his nibs in, Mavis?’ asked Cooper following a brief and quite unnecessary introduction. She knew his voice well enough by now.
‘No. He’s out with the borough surveyor at present, Alby. They’re having a site meeting about the new station. He’ll be back about 10.30am, I expect. Let me just check what he’s doing after that.’ Mavis inspected the diary. ‘He’s playing golf at midday, with members of the police committee,’ reported Mavis.
‘He’s what?’ asked Cooper, incredulously.
‘Playing golf with members of the police committee.’
‘Blimey. Nice work if you can get it.’
‘If you come in around 10.45am, you should catch him. Shall I tell him what you want to see him about?’
‘We need a search warrant for an address in London,’ said Cooper.
*
Cooper later walked up to the superintendent’s office. After she had announced his arrival, Mavis ushered him into the inner sanctum. He found the superintendent lacing up his brown brogues. He was wearing a casual, collared shirt with short sleeves, and plus fours. He reminded Cooper of Stan Laurel.
‘Good morning, Albert. Is this about the murder? Only I haven’t got long to chat. I have an important meeting at midday.’
‘Yes, it is, sir,’ said Cooper, smiling to himself. Lying old git.
He quickly brought the superintendent up to date regarding the arrest of Savage, but he seemed somewhat preoccupied, ambivalent even.
‘Fine, fine. Before you go on, what is the current situation regarding the theft of Councillor Davis’ chickens?’ What the bloody hell is he worrying about that for? thought Cooper, We have got a murder on our hands. ‘Young Rogers is dealing with that, sir. I must confess, I’m not aware of any progress at present.’
‘Well, it happened well over a week ago and I haven’t seen the crime report yet. Who is his sergeant?’
‘That, would be DS Mills sir.’
‘Well, get a grip of him, will you? It smacks of a “lack of supervision”, all round.’
‘Yes, sir. If I may just return to the murder for a moment, we have another line of enquiry. When we got Scenes of Crime to carry out a forensic search of the victim’s room, they came across this letter, which, as you will see, purports to have been signed by Lady Roding on the 4th July. It is threatening in its tone, and it shows there was quite a rift between her and Sister Margaret.’ Cooper handed the original letter to the superintendent for his perusal.
After a few seconds of reading the letter and a couple of minutes of procrastination, Stockwell took off his spectacles and looked him in the eye. ‘I see the point you are making Albert, it is quite threatening, but what action are you proposing to take?’
‘Sir, we’ve been trying to establish a motive for the murder and this gives us a strong indication that Lady Fanny Roding may have had one. I would like your permission to apply to a magistrate for a warrant to search the Roding’s house in Bloomsbury for evidence. Specifically, blood-stained clothing and any other letters that might be there.’
‘Do you really think that a search warrant is absolutely necessary?’ asked Stockwell, visibly wincing.
‘Yes, sir. I do.’
Stockwell got up from his desk and walked across the room to close the office door. He then returned to his seat. ‘Precisely what grounds do you think you have to justify a search warrant?’
‘The threats contained in the letter give us reasonable suspicion that Lady Roding had a motive for a murder that actually took place in the grounds of
her family estate. The signs of blood dispersal at the scene indicate the murderer would have some spattering of blood on his or her garments. The murder only happened a few days ago, and I believe we still have a chance of recovering the clothing. So, in my opinion, there isn’t a moment to lose.’
‘Well, I think you need more than just this letter to give you enough grounds. I really cannot authorise it on this basis.’
Cooper tried to argue the case further, but to no avail.
‘Albert, you said yourself the murder only happened a couple of days ago, it’s early days yet.’
‘Sir, if we leave the search much longer, the clothing, if it is indeed there, will have been laundered or disposed of. I realise the connection is somewhat tenuous, but we’re investigating a brutal murder and by any objective assessment the letter amounts to a threat. So, I think this gives us the reasonable suspicion we require, and enough to justify a warrant,’ he said with all the vehemence he dare employ.
Stockwell shook his head and remained intransigent. He was simply not having it. ‘No, Inspector. Are you seriously asking me to let you apply for a warrant to search the home of a peer of the realm based on such flimsy evidence as this? The force would be sued into bankruptcy! Just go and see her, man. Who knows? If you ask her, she might even let you look around!’
Cooper withdrew and returned to the police station. He was crestfallen, deflated and bloody angry. He told himself he would make a detailed note of the conversation in his policy book so if he was called to account for failing to carry out the search, he would be covered. By his estimation, he had more than enough evidence to take the action that he’d proposed. The law didn’t require certainty, just reasonable suspicion.
Cooper mulled over the manner of his rejection, but reminded himself that, like many senior police officers, Stockwell had no experience of dealing with serious crime since he’d spent all his police service in uniform. This was just a fact of life and quite understandable. Unfortunately, Stockwell also, apparently, had no backbone, which, in Alby Cooper’s opinion, was not. He was now beginning to understand the nature of the poisoned chalice that Stockwell had presented him with.
Devotion to Murder Page 7
