03 - Murder in Mink (13 page)

The inspector refrained from snapping, though the
temptation was great.

“Yes, if you could fetch someone else.”

Susan appeared after a long pause of some ten minutes.
She was nervous as she peered around the door. Hastily dressed in a light day
gown, her hair barely brushed, she shuffled into the room looking so washed out
her skin seemed almost translucent.

“Miss Susan Campbell?” The inspector asked gently.

“Yes.” Susan replied in a timid voice.

“You didn’t attend your brother’s wedding?”

“No, I was unwell.”

“But you weren’t home when your sister Penelope
returned?”

Susan swallowed anxiously. Her eyes flicked over the
constable behind Jennings.

“I fancied some fresh air and I thought if I walked to
the boundary of our garden and into the next field I could just glimpse the
church. I wanted to see Andrew and Laura come out.”

Susan swallowed again.

“You didn’t see them, of course.”

“No, I waited a while, but the bells never rang, and then
the guests were coming out. I knew something wasn’t right and I was feeling
rather grim again so I headed home.”

“Did you see a woman in red enter the church?”

Susan considered the question.

“I think so. She was going in as I reached the hedge.”

“Did you know who she was?”

“No.”

“But you know now?”

Susan licked her lips, which were suddenly so dry.

“Yes. She was Andrew’s wife. Before you ask I never knew
he was married. I only found out when Peg came home and told me.”

“Have you been out of the house since?”

“No.”

“Not even to collect more flowers?”

“No.” Susan shook her head vigorously, “Honestly
inspector I have nothing to do with this, I have enough worries of my own…”
Susan gulped as the words spilled out. She clamped her lips shut on further
admissions.

“Thank you Miss Campbell, perhaps you could fetch for us
your brother Andrew.” The inspector decided to throw her a line, but instead
Susan’s eyes seemed to bulge.

“I…” She glanced over her shoulder helplessly at Clara,
“I don’t know where he is.”

The inspector looked as though he had been jolted.

“I instructed Andrew Campbell to stay at home, where has
he gone?”

Susan shook her head.

“Well, when did he leave?”

Again Susan shook her head helplessly.

“Inspector,” Clara interrupted, “I have an idea where he
is likely to have gone, why don’t we allow Susan to rest and try and track down
Andrew ourselves?”

Susan’s relief at Clara’s intervention was palpable to
everyone. The inspector, however, was still annoyed.

“He was told to remain here, does he not listen to
anyone?”

“Not often.” Susan gave a little smile. Clara had moved
behind her and was quietly helping her to make her escape.

“Go fetch your hat inspector and have a car ready for us.
I know where we need to head.”

The inspector stood, muttering to himself, and
disappeared to organise their departure. Susan relaxed as he left their
presence.

“Another escape thanks to you Clara.”

“Don’t mention it.” Clara squeezed her shoulder.

“I’ll go back to bed now, I still feel rotten.” Susan
moved off, Clara hesitated to say more until she was almost at the staircase.

“You know, if you ever want to talk to me… I’m a very
good listener and nothing shocks me, not these days. So if you want to talk…”

Susan gave her a very sad smile.

“We all have our burdens to carry, don’t we Clara? I’ll
be all right, you just sort out Andrew.”

She made her way up the stairs slowly. Clara felt more
anxious than ever about her.

“When I find that swine I’ll wring his neck for all this
trouble.” Inspector Jennings fidgeted in the back of the police car. His plan
to catch the Campbell family unawares had been a good one, it had worked
before. He caught his suspects when they were vulnerable and least prepared,
but that Andrew Campbell might slip the net had not been foreseen. Jennings had
not expected him to ignore his orders.

Clara decided it was safer to remain silent than to
engage Jennings in conversation as they wound their way to Brooklands.

“I’ve had men out sweeping that blooming racetrack for
the missing stole all day!” Jennings grumbled, “Surely they would have seen him
if he had gone there.”

“He will be tucked away in the garages, inspector. Very
safe from police eyes.” Clara noticed the gates of the racetrack looming, the
place was pitch dark, except for a few odd lights down near the garages, “See?”

They headed swiftly in the direction of the lights.
Jennings had the constable head out onto the track, determined not to lose his
suspect again.

“I don’t think he will bolt inspector.”

“I’m not taking any chances.”

Just before garage number 10 a man walked out in front of
them cursing to himself and carrying a bag of tools. It was Francke. He pulled
up short when he saw them.

“What you doing here?” He asked curiously.

“Is Andrew Campbell around?” The inspector asked hastily.

Francke gave a nod towards garage 10.

“It about that woman I nearly hit. I didn’t hit her!”

“We know that Francke.” Jennings said reassuringly,
darting past the German as he spoke.

Clara followed in his wake. Francke watched them
disappear into garage 10, then dropped his tools and went to see what was
happening.

Andrew was stretched out on an old sofa at the back of
the garage, almost asleep in his oil-stained overalls. He observed Jennings
approach him through bleary eyes.

“So you found me.” Andrew yawned and pulled himself
upright, then his attention fell on Clara, “What is she doing here?”

Clara was a little stunned by the expression of hatred on
Andrew’s face, she couldn’t understand how she had offended him so.

“Miss Fitzgerald is helping with the investigation.”
Jennings said smartly.

“Interfering more like! I’ve never seen someone so nosy,
she’s probably glad there’s been a murder so she has something to gossip
about.”

“Andrew Campbell, I have been asked to assist you in any
way I can by helping solve this murder. But I refuse to be insulted. I would
much rather be back in Brighton than having to sort out the sordid mess you
have gotten yourself into.” Clara snapped, finally fed up with her cousin.

“Sordid? Who are you to say that of me? The poor
relation, that’s who you are! Staying at the house because you don’t have the
money for a hotel! I didn’t want you at the wedding, I didn’t want any of you.
If father had kept it low-key as I had wanted than none of this would have
happened!”

“And you would have committed bigamy.” Clara said coolly,
“Which is also a crime. You’re a scoundrel Andrew Campbell, whichever way you
look at it.”

Francke gave a round of applause behind Clara, grinning
from ear to ear.

“That’s enough all of you!” Jennings interrupted, “Clara
is present because I have asked her to be present and if you insult her, then
you are effectively insulting me for inviting her. Do you understand Mr
Campbell?”

Andrew scowled at them. For the first time Clara saw a
spark of violence that made her re-evaluate her view of him. Perhaps, in the
right situation, he could be driven to dangerous actions.

“I want to ask you about your movements after the wedding
on Saturday.” Jennings began in a calmer voice.

“I was here, all the time. You can ask Francke.” Andrew
pointed at the Austrian.

Francke gave a broad shrug of his shoulders.

“I saw him once or twice, maybe, for a few moments.” He
said noncommittally.

“Liar!” Andrew shouted, “You came in here and drank tea
with me! Your mechanics were outside all afternoon next to my car and you were
sitting in that stupid deckchair of yours flicking through a newspaper. I was a
few feet away from you all afternoon!”

“I can only answer honestly.” Francke was nonplussed, “I
actually
saw
you only briefly.”

“Bloody swine! So you’d see me hang to ensure your own winning
place at the next track meet? We all know my Napier will do over your Opel
unless I can’t drive it.”

“As you please.” Francke didn’t react to the accusation,
“I merely state what I know.”

“But your mechanics would have seen him?” Jennings once
more interrupted.

“Maybe.” Francke gave his calm shrug again.

“He’ll tell them to say different, they all need the work
he gives them.” Andrew deflated somewhat, he sank down on the sofa and pressed
his head into his hands, “I’m not a fool inspector, I know you are looking to
me to have done this. But I didn’t kill Shirley.”

“Perhaps you can help me to believe that.” The inspector
folded over a new page in his notebook, “Tell me about your marriage to
Shirley.”

Andrew sighed into his hands.

“You want all the gruesome details?”

“Yes.”

“And
she
has to hear it?”

Clara stiffened.

“I will never spread a word of what you tell me, whatever
you think of me I am not a gossip.” She said.

“She might be the only one able to save you from the
noose too.” Jennings added with emphasis, “Remember that.”

Andrew was silent for several moments, except for the
sounds of him taking deep breaths through his fingers.

“I met her on leave in London.” He stated softly, “She
was a dancer. She danced very well. We were at the Empire dance hall, a gang of
us from the unit and she was looking for a partner. She picked me and we hit it
off. She told me her name was Shirley and she wanted to know what I had been
doing at the front, whether I was one of the brave lads in the trenches. That
sort of thing. We talked, we danced. Eventually I took her for a meal.”

“Did you know she was a prostitute?” Jennings asked
bluntly.

They all waited for Andrew to explode again, but he
didn’t. It seemed his fight was gone. Instead, very quietly he said.

“Yes. I knew.”

“What happened then?”

“I had a month’s leave because I had taken a bit of gas
and needed to recover. I saw her everyday rather than go home. There was
nothing at home for me except father and Glory. I would rather be in London
with Shirley. Soon we were walking out. I stayed at Shirley’s place at night.
I’m not sure what I was thinking, only there was this nag inside of me that I
might not be around long the way the war was going, so why not enjoy that last
month home? I treated her well, I bought her gifts. We were always eating out
and going to dances. Sometimes one of her old… friends, would come around and I
would have to see them off, make them understand she wasn’t into that business
anymore.”

“Were you planning on marrying her?”

“I don’t know, maybe, eventually. I was only thinking of
the moment. What was the point of thinking a week or month ahead when I might
be dead? You can’t plan for anything when you have that looming over you.”
Andrew raised his head, he looked exhausted by it all, “Then she fell pregnant.
She said it was mine. The other lads laughed, said I was being led a merry
dance, but I didn’t believe them. I thought to myself, if I’m killed what will
happen to the child? At least if we were married Shirley could claim some money
from the Army and my family. So the day before I went back to Flanders we were
married in the registry office. I bought Shirley a mink stole for the occasion,
it was a cold day. That was the last I ever saw of her until Saturday.”

There was a glint in the inspector’s eyes as he looked
over at Clara. So his theory had been right.

“Why?” He asked, not letting on his own suspicions.

Andrew fell back on the sofa, his face ashen, the lines
around his mouth and eyes suddenly so deep. He seemed to have aged many years.
He couldn’t look at them as he spoke, he just kept staring at his Napier off to
his right.

“There was no baby. There never had been. We wrote
letters for a while, I was still eager, but nine months came and went with no
mention of a child and I started to wonder. All those taunts the other lads had
mocked me with came back to my mind and ate away at me. Day after day I sat in
those trenches, clinging to one vain hope that there was a part of me that
would survive the slaughter. A child that would bear my name. I lived for that,
but she lied to me, there never was a child. I had been used, but worse she had
given me this false hope that suddenly crumbled to dust. It felt as though I
had nothing left.” Andrew cringed as the memories returned, “I suppose I have
to be honest with you, but from that moment I hated her. I wrote to her once
and asked her about the baby. She made some strange excuse about losing it, but
she couldn’t explain why she had not told me. I felt such a fool. I cut myself
off from her. Stopped sending money to her, that was the worst I could do to
her, I knew that, she was so mercenary stopping the money would hurt. I never
wrote again and I never saw her again. As far as I was concerned I didn’t have
a wife.”

“Yet legally speaking you did.” Jennings pointed out
politely, “When you proposed to Laura Pettibone didn’t that worry you?”

“You don’t know how I had eradicated her from my memory.
I convinced myself the marriage was not real, like everything else. It had been
done in such haste I didn’t think it could be legally binding. I suppose I was
just happy to stumble on blindly pretending it had never occurred.”

“What about when Shirley turned up at the church?”

“I was stunned. It was like a nightmare, there she was
dressed exactly like the day we got married, even with the mink stole. I didn’t
know what to think, I just felt numb as if it couldn’t be her, not really.”

“You whispered something to her as she left the church,
what was it?” Clara risked a question.

Andrew looked at her with resentment, but he answered.

“She wanted me to meet her so we could talk, I promised I
would call on her.”

“Did you?”

Andrew shook his head.

“I never saw her again.”

The inspector folded over the leather cover of his
notebook.

“I think that will do for the moment Mr Campbell, but I
would prefer it if you keep close to home as I reminded you before.”

Andrew made no reply. The inspector nodded to Clara and
they turned to leave the garage. Francke was at their side, his face contorted
in thought.

“How did she get here, I ask myself?” Francke remarked as
they strode out into the night, “She did not walk here, I think. No, I think
someone brought her here.”

“Yes, we had already come to that conclusion. It’s the
‘who’ that is more important now.” Jennings said, irritated at the continued
presence of the Austrian.

“Let me think, something comes to me…” Francke tapped at
his forehead, “It was here, about midnight. I was in the workshop. I couldn’t
sleep so I got up and came outside for a cigarette, and I see some lights. Car
lights. I think nothing of it, because people travel at all times, but I’m
certain it stopped above the Byfleet for a few moments. Not long, but for a
short time the lights were stationary and then it moved off again.”

Clara glanced at Jennings, he was listening riveted.

“You are sure?” He asked.

“Of that? Yes.” Francke gave them both a smile, “I don’t
like Andrew much, but I tell you this, he was not in that car. He was fast
asleep on the sofa. I saw him.”

The inspector thanked Francke and he moved away with
Clara as the Austrian returned to his abandoned tools.

“Well, it looks like Andrew is in the clear.” Clara said,
“He couldn’t have dumped the body.”

“No, that is true.”

Clara stared at Jennings.

“But something is worrying you?”

“Yes, and it might mean Andrew as not as innocent as he
protests.”

Clara felt herself go cold.

“Are you going to tell me?” She asked.

“It’s just a little thing, you see just now when we were
talking to Andrew and he was professing his honesty he to us? Well, I know for
a fact, without a doubt in my mind, that honest Andrew was lying.”