Friday October 30
Cleo and Gary enjoyed their crime-free Friday,
but only until Charlie arrived home later than usual because she’d been to
hockey practice. Charlie’s knees were
bloody and she was dishevelled. The honeymoon was over for the time being.
Dorothy’ phone-call had made Cleo uneasy. Her mind could not
get off the subject of Frank Cook. Was he responsible for the ridiculour idea
to take the day off when the Grisham case was in disarray and the vicar had
still not reappeared.
“Didn’t you take some extra clothes, Charlie?”
“I forgot, so I had to wear my everyday uniform.”
“I’ll get you a mobile, Charlie, then you can let us know
if that happens again,” said Gary. “Did you have a good practice?”
“Super. Can you come to the match tomorrow, Daddy?”
Charlie wanted to know. “Or are you still taking a holiday?”
“Of course I can, Charlie, if Mummy lets me.”
“Why shouldn’t I let you, Gary? You really are a
pain sometimes!”
“But a loving one,” retorted Gary. “Je t’aime, Charlie!”
“Moi aussi,” said Charlie. “You too, Mummy.”
“I’ll do even better than that,” said Cleo, pulling Gary
out of his chair and enveloping him in an embrace that only fell slightly short
of one designed for lovers. Charlie looked on benevolently.
“What about me?” sie said.
”You too,” said Cleo, openin her arms. “I love your Daddy.
That’s why we hug so often.”
***
“The match starts at 12 o’clock…”
“We’ll be there, Charlie. Shall I drive you to
school?”
“No thanks, Daddy. My friends will be on the bus.”
Gary was delighted that his little girl had settled
in so well.
“Mummy, are you going to bring PeggySue?”
“Of course. We’ll all come and cheer you on.”
That was another reason Gary was happy. Charlie really
thought of Cleo as her Mummy, though she had a photo of her birth mother pinned
up on the wall in the room she shared with PeggySue.
“Where is the new baby going to sleep?” Charlie asked,
rubbing Cleo’s tummy very gently. “It isn’t jumping around much.”
“I’ll let you know next time,” said Cleo. “It’s asleep
now.”
“Good question. Where IS the new baby going to sleep?”
said Gary.
“I think we’ll have to make the cottage bigger,” said
Cleo.
“We’d better make a start then,” said Gary.
“Can I still be friends with Cedric and the others? Mr
Parsnip hasn’t turned up and Edith doesn’t want him to.”
“Who told you that?” asked Gary.
“Albert. Mr Parsnip was a rotten father. Robert will move in
and be a better one, Daddy, but not like you.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Charlie,” said Gary.
“Can we have another hug now?” said Charlie.
“A short one. I have to go,” said Gary. “ You can have a long
hug with Mummy.”
“I’ll do that, Charlie, and PeggySue can join in.”
“Where are you going, Daddy?”
“Yes, where are you going?” Cleo asked.
“Not far,” said Gary enigmatically.
Cleo had no idea what that meant.
“Edith’s going to turn Mr Parsnip’s study into a bedroom
for the new vicar,” said Charlie, “and Robert is going to sleep in Mr Parsnip’s
bed,” she added. “It’s all a bit funny at the vicarage.”
“Just don’t think about it, Charlie,” said Cleo. “Grownups
do funny things sometimes. They stop loving some people and start loving
others.”
“I’m glad I’m home,” said Charlie. “We all go on loving all
the time here, don’t we?”
“Yes Charlie, we do, and you don’t have to go to the
vicarage at all if you don’t want to,” said Gary.
“The boys need me,” said Charlie.
“Well, just tell us when something bothers you,” said Cleo.
***
“Something is bothering me now,” said Charlie. “Everyone
at the vicarage has secrets. Even Albert has a secret, but he told me.”
“Do you want to tell us?”
“He made me promise not to.”
“But you need to tell someone, right?” said Cleo.
“Yes. You won’t tell on me, will you?”
“Of course not, Charlie,” said Cleo.
***
“Albert said he knows where his father is,” said
Charlie.
“What? Did he say where?” said Gary.
“No, but I can ask him.”
“You should not be using Charlie as a spy, Gary,”
said Cleo.
“I promised not to say anything,” said Charlie. “And now I’ve
broken my promise.”
Tears started rolling down the little girl’s cheeks.
“Don’t worry, Charlie. We won’t give the game away,” said
Cleo, comforting her and wiping away her tears. “I’ll talk to Albert today, but
I won’t tell him what you have told me and you don’t know where the vicar is,
so he couldn’t tell you anyway, except that he had one,” said Cleo. ”I’ll get
him to tell me the whole story.”
“I’ll be here this evening, said Gary. “Do you need my
car?”
“Wow, Gary. I call that love. Sharing toothbrushes and cars is
a very positive sign.”
“I don’t use your toothbrush, Cleo.”
“You don’t need to. You have one of your own.”
“Can we all have another hug now?” said Charlie. “You parents are sometimes
the limit!”
***
Gary gathered PeggySue in his arms and they all hugged for a minute or
two. It was a meditative moment for all of them, even PeggySue, who patted
Cleo’s and Gary’s heads and gurgled contentedly.
“Anyone seeing us now would think we were slightly
crazy,” said Cleo.
“Only slightly?” said Gary.
“I love you all,” said Charlie, “even if you are a bit
crazy.”
***
Since there would be no for a visit to the vicarage before
leaving for the hockey match next morning, Cleo took Gary up on his words and
drove to the vicarage in the red cabriolet that was ary’s pride and joy. She
parked carefully and went round the back of the house to the kitchen. Robert
would still be making his weekend deliveries so with any luck he would not be
there. Cleo asked Edith if she could have a chat with Albert on his own and the
boy was summoned. Edith would dearly like to have known why Cleo wanted to talk
to him but did not ask.
***
It took Albert quite a long time to get to the dining
room, where the chat was to take place. He put his mobile phone down on the
table. He would not be parted from it for a second. After a minute or two he
broke the silence.
“She told you, didn’t she?” he said. “Little sneak.”
“Told me what, Albert?
“That I know where my father is,” said Albert,
without meaning to.
“Is that the secret you imposed on Charlie, Albert?”
“Yes, Miss.”
“I thought we were friends,” said Cleo. “Why didn’t
you tell me?”
“Because my father made me swear not to tell
anyone.”
“But he must know that we are all very worried.”
“I don’t think he cares, Miss Hartley.”
“How did you find out where he is, Albert?”
“I don’t know exactly where he is. He’s staying
somewhere in the snow.”
“In the snow?”
“I think that’s what he said.”
“So he contacted you a second time?”
“Yes. He was sorry he could not meet me. He said he had
borrowed the phone from the man who was taking him to the airport. I know it
was a mobile phone this time because it was one of those sorts of numbers.”
“Can you remember it?”
“He told me to delete the call.”
“Did you?”
“No, Miss.”
“Good boy. Can you load the call now?”
Cleo listened to Parsnip’s call and was sure it must be genuine.
He had asked after the boys, but not mentioned Edith..
The easiest way to get a copy of the call was probably to
record it with her own mobile phone, so she did that and made a note of the
phone number. There was a chance that Parsnip’s whereabouts could be traced via
the phone, but it was also possible that the phone had in the meantime run out
of juice and he had no connector to recharge it.
Cleo thanked Albert for having confidence in her. When
asked what they had talked about, Albert was to say it had been about him doing
an internship with the agency with a view to doing one with Gary when he was
old enough. At 12 Albert was already quite grownup and an intelligent boy.
There were plenty of tasks he could do at the agency. Cleo gave him a key of her
office. He could use the computer at any time. Together they thought up a
password so that he had his own private network. Albert was thankful and relieved
that he was no longer burdened with the secret of his father’s whereabouts.
***
On the short drive back home, Cleo realised that none of those
involved had bargained with Frederick Parsnip’s presence of mind, since that
was a quality no one thought he possessed. Grisham had had no personal form of
identification on him because it had been removed by the killer who could have
been Parsnip. It is possible that Grisham had given him the cell phone to hold,
so strictly speaking the vicar would not have stolen it, but only taken it with
him. Had Parsnip moved the corpse to the passenger seat? Had he put the
dog-collar on Grisham? Had he emptied Grisham’s pockets?
It was vital that they talk to Parsnip. But what if he had
killed Grisham after all? Why would he kill the person who was driving him to a
new life in Africa, to the life he had been dreaming of, to the escape from
family and job responsibilities, in one word: to freedom?
***
Later, Gary had supper with the girls. Charlie had
showered off the hockey-practice grime and was sitting at the dining table in
her pyjamas colouring monsters in really ghastly colours. Gary put PeggySue in
the bath with loads of bubbles and a large yellow plastic duck nemed appropriately
‘Duck’ and then in her bed before putting his feet up and snoozing contentedly in
front of the TV, which was showing about the 33rd repeat of Breakfast
at Tiffany’s. Cleo hugged Charlie and sent her off to bed, kissed Gary on the
forehead, peeped in PeggySue, who was fast asleep, and went into the kitchen to
make nightcaps. Some time later, the lovers would find their way to bed and
their ‘lovin’ would end in the early hours, when they would fall asleep
entwined.
Charlie had been nodding over her pencils, so Cleo added
cold mlk to cool her cocoa and tucked her in for the night. Gary had livened up
for long enough to hug Charlie before going back to sleep on the sofa. Cleo
covered him with the plaid and kissed his brow.
“We could go to bed,” Gary suggested, pulling the sofa
plaid up to his chin. “I’m cold and you ust be tired.”
“You won’t be going to bed for some time and you are frying
in front of a blazing log fire,” said Cleo. “Are you sickening for youething?”
“For you, my love,” Gary replied, reaching for the TV remote.
“Those movies always put me to sleep,” he said
apologetically, switching off a movie that had seen better days 70 years ago.
“Funny how you imagine the colours on black and white films,”
he mused.
“Drink some coffee, Sweetheart. We have things to discuss.”
“What things? I don’t think I want to discuss anything
now. It’s weekend and I need you and my duvet.”
“You won’t when you’ve heard Parsnip’s phone call to
Albert, Sweetheart.”
***
Cleo went into the kitchen to get herself some coffee. Gary
followed her and wrapped himself around her from behind, His physical nearness
almost made her forget the urgency of what she wanted to say. Almost.
“Forget Parsnip. Do you think anything Parsnip does is
going to warm me up more than my wife and my duvet?”
“No, but let’s get our priorities right.”
“Now you are being a pain,” said Gary.
Cleo ignored that comment.
“On second thoughts, I think Dorothy should be here,” said
Cleo. “We need a think-tank.
“Not now, Cleo. Let’s go to bed. Dorothy is probably
asleep.”
“Gary, it’s only eight o’clock.” said Cleo, ignoring of
Gary’s unmistakeable line of attack.
Dorothy said she would come when Breakfast at Tiffany’s
had finished. That’s in about twenty minutes if she really had to. We arranged that
if I did not phone, she yould join us.
“I’m cold and you are heartless,” said Gary. “We need us,
not Dorothy.”
“I’ll put a log on the fire and then I’ll warm you up a
bit,” said Cleo.
“Don’t frighten me?”
“…platonically.”
Gary did not believe Cleo, but she stuck firmly to her
intention.
***
Half an hour later Dorothy was standing on Cleo’s
doorstep.
“Come in. I want to play you the recording I copied from
Albert’s mobile phone an hour or so ago,”
Cleo announced and Dorothy looked puzzled because she knew nothing about
Charlie’s confession of Albert’s secret.
They all listened to the recording.
“So what do you think, Dorothy?”
“It’s definitely Frederick,” said Dorothy.
“But he said he’s in the snow,” said Gary. “I can’t make
head nor tail of that, unless he’s in Scotland on Ben Nevis or gone to Europe
and hidden on a snowy European peak.”
“Let’s listen to it again, “ said Dorothy. “I have a
hunch.”
Gary thought that it would be a crackpot idea, but since
he’d thought Dorothy’s hunches had been silly before and then had to eat his
words, he would go with the flow.
***
Cleo looked at Gary with a mischievous smile on her face.
From being drowsy and longing for bedtime, Gary was now awake enough to realize
that he was in at the deep end of whatever was going on. From forbidding the
two sleuths from having anything to do with the Grisham case, Gary was now faced
with yet another theory concocted by one amateur sleuth and backed up by the other.
It was going to be either a monumental success or a monumental flop.
“I think Albert really must have thought his father was in
the snow,” Dorothy started. “But what if Parsnip had merely left off the word
‘flat’? I certainly didn’t hear it.”
“I can’t see that it would make any difference,” said
Gary, who now thought Dorothy was being tiresome. “Snow is usually on hills and
mountains.”
“A snow house is an igloo, isn’t it?” she continued. “If
he’d been in one of those, he would have used that word.”
“I supposed he would,” said Gary.
But what if he was referring to snow with a capital
“S”?”
“Go on,” said Cleo.
Gary yawned.
“Couldn’t it be Miss Snow’s house in Huddlecourt
Minor?”
“Who’s Miss Snow, Dorothy?” Gary asked.
“Someone whose dog we found,” said Dorothy.
“I never met her, Gary,” said Cleo. “She had lost her dog
and asked the agency to find it. Dorothy obliged.”
“Miss Snow wanted to be friends with me, but I did not
want that because the little dog I once found in Monkton Woods was probably
also hers and had run away, and after meeting Miss Snow I could understand
why.”
“I wanted to ask you to do a photo montage for Dorothy,
but there hasn’t been time yet,” said Cleo.
“What kind of montage?”
“A large dog to replace the one Dorothy used to have after
finding it in Monkton Woods. On Miss Snow’s description you would identify Dorothy’s
dog with her dog, but Doroth did not make enquiries about the runaway animal. She
just kept it and gave it a new name and she did not want Miss Snow to know she
had kept it.”
“It’s all as clear as mud,” said Gary. “Can I go to bed
now and talk tomorrow?”
“You can read the case account in my records, Gary. Go on
with your hunch, Dorothy. I know Gary wants to hear it, don’t you, Sweetheart?”
Gary resigned himself to Dorothy’s new grim fairy tale.
“When Miss Snow opened her door I was amazed to see that
she looked exactly like Laura. What if the vicar got to her house on his way
home, saw her and thought it really was Laura?”
“You mean a reincarnation?” said Gary, starting to get
intrigued by this idea.
***
“Frederick Parsnip had a soft spot for Laura Finch, Gary.
She had confided in him about her past, which fascinated him for it’s sheer
audacity, I expect. But did not tell him that her father had at least 3 love-children
dotted about the neighbourhood,” said Dorothy.
“Good heavens!” said Gary.
“I think Flora Snow would have read or heard that the
vicar had gone missing, judging from the speed at which things get known around
here,” Dorothy continued. “I was baffled myself and shocked by her looks when I
first set eyes on her, until Miss Snow explained. Believe me, Flora Snow is the
spitting image of Laura Finch only shorter and a bit plumper.”
“This is an awesome hunch, Dorothy. I’d like to pick holes
in the idea, but I can’t think of any,” said Cleo.
“Although Miss Snow would probably have taken anyone in
who was needy because she fancied herself as a good soul, she recognized the
vicar and when he called her Laura she could have had a brilliant idea,” said
Dorothy. “Miss Snow might even have blackmailed Edith. She probably knew Robert
and Edith had got together. Is Miss Snow getting paid by Edith not to reveal
where Frederick is?”
“I think your hunch is getting out of hand, Dorothy,” said
Gary.
“But surely Miss Snow would not blackmail Edith,” said
Cleo. “No one has ever mentioned blackmail.”
“Edith has proved to be something of a dark horse!” said
Gary.
“So you think my hunch could be a good one, do you, Gary?”
“I’ll reserve judgement, Dorothy,” said Gary, unwilling to
acknowledge that at least the first part of her theory could explain the
vicar’s continued disappearance. “It’s a clever idea with the double, Dorothy.”
“I’ve never met Flora Snow,” said Cleo. “I wonder if Edith
would be open to blackmail? She might, if getting rid of Frederick was
uppermost in her mind. He could stay away for ever if as far as she is
concerned, and she could say that it was for the vicar’s upkeep. It is his
salary, after all.”
***
“It’s all pretty sordid, isn’t it?” said Dorothy.
“She even shocked me, Dorothy,” said Cleo. “She must have
seduced Robert. He would never have had the nerve."
“She did!” said Gary, wondering if he should say that in
Dorothy’s presence.
“How do you know that, Gary,” Dorothy asked.
“He told me.”
“Perhaps she had never been drawn to anyone before,” said
Dorothy.
“That is sad, but it would not surprise me,” said Cleo.
“So what do you think really happened, Dorothy?” said Gary.
“I don’t think Miss Snow did anything,” said Dorothy. “I think the vicar
told her that he was in love with her, thinking it was Laura and airing a fancy
he had had for some time.”
“Are you sure about that fancy, Dorothy?” said Cleo.
“Didn’t you watch him at those meetings in the vicarage, Cleo? He fawned and
gushed over Laura like a slobbery Labrador. Let’s assume that he had not had
the courage or even the opportunity to declare his intentions before. If he
thought it was Laura and he had left all his family and work obligations behind,
he might have been glad to talk about his infatuation at long last. We know his
declaration would not have been to a reincarnation of Laura, as he believed,
but to Flora Snow, a woman edging 60, would have no scruples about playing
along.”
“This is quite a story,” said Gary, “always assuming it’s
what happened.”
“There’s only one way to find out, Gary.”
“Can I go to bed first, please?” said Gary.
“Of course. We can’t do anything at this time of night and
since Frederick must have been at Miss Snow’s house for some days, he won’t
move on yet, if ever,” said Dorothy. “He might even be imprisoned.”
***
“There is a downside to all this, of course,” said Gary. “If
it’s all as you say, Dorothy, Miss Snow might well be harbouring a killer. We’ll
pay her a visit tomorrow.”
“But not till after the hockey match, Gary. You promised
Charlie.”
“I shouldn’t think that matters. Miss Snow is more likely
to be home in the afternoon, isn’t she?” reasoned Dorothy. “If there are two of
them, she’ll need to do some weekend shopping. Frederick has to stay hidden and
they both have to eat. I wouldn’t put it past Miss snow to drug Frederick to
make sure he did not leave.”
“But the guy can’t hide in Huddleton Minor for ever.”
***
“There’s no point in speculating, Ladies. The hunch is
still only a hunch. I’ll walk up the road with you, Dorothy. The fresh air will
do me good.”
“And I’ll take a shower and slip into my kimono,” said
Cleo.
There was nothing particularly symbolic about the kimono
for Cleo, except that it reminded her of Chicago, but Gary saw it with entirely
different eyes and Cleo teased him about it. Cleo had bought the garment
cheaply many years before at a Chicago street market. She wore it as a dressing
gown, a bath-robe and between going-out outfits.
Kimonos are wonderful garments. You can parcel yourself
into one with an obi or a simple belt, or you can let it hang open and drift
about in it. Gary, whom Cleo called one of nature’s children because he preferred
to wear nothing at all, could live with the vestige of propriety a free-flowing
kimono gave the wearer, though Cleo was gradually catching on to the FKK idea.”
***
Escorting her home. Gary had tried to get more information
out of Dorothy. Did she know where Laura's other siblings were? Somewhere in
Middlethumpton, Dorothy thought, but did not know their surname, and there had
been a legitimate brother. He was probably named Finch. Laura had never mentioned
him. It’s possible that he was dead. Laura had apparently been the only legitimate
heir to the family house and had not shared her inheritance with anyone, as far
as Dorothy knew.
***
"I'll put a patrol team on Miss Snow’s house,"
said Gary when he got back to the cottage.
"Don't let Miss Snow see them," advised Cleo.
"She's a wily old bird, according to Dorothy."
“Then she’s a good match for the vicar,” said Gary, “though
he’s a bit young for her.”
“Not necessarily. She could fall in love with him.”
“At her age?” said Gary.
“At any age, Gary.”
"I'll get Greg onto it," said Gary. "Greg is
reliable. They'll stay out of sight, but if Dorothy’s hunch is correct, Parsnip
is in there and we don't want him to get away, do we?"
***
Gary took a shower and wrapped his bathtowel round his
haunches while they drank their nightcap coffee.
Cleo drifted around tidying up.
“Multi-tasking again,” said Gary.
“Necessity,” said Cleo.
“Tidying up in that kimono is quite poetic,” said Gary.
“Like wandering lonely as a cloud?”
“I don’t suppose Wordsworth wore a kimono,” said Gary.
“Maybe he also drifted around with a bathtowel slipping down
his haunches, instead.”
“I don’t think they took as many baths in those days,” said
Gary. "I'd like one of those kimonos. Then we can both drift around."
"I'm sure you know what you're talking about,"
said Cleo.
"It's remarkable how energizing an evening walk can be."
"I'll take your word for it," said Cleo.
***
“You can slip out of that kimono and under my duvet now,”
Gary invited as he finally lost his bathtowl and flung himself into bed.
“Still cold, Gary?”
“That’s not exactly how I would describe myself.”
“I’ll just hand your bathtowel up to dry, shall I?
“I’d rather you didn’t bother,” said Gary as plucked the
kimono off Cleo’s back
“Are you trying to tell e something?” said Cleo.
***
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