The Baby Jane Murders (2 page)

"When you get to the police station, please
send me the photographs, and when you get the fingerprints, can I
have the report? I'm staying in the Hydro Majestic. I mean the
photos you took just now, not the Three Sisters," Kroupa jokingly
added.

"I’m not stupid," retorted the policeman.
Kroupa didn't answer. Instead he went to the phone and called
Hendrych. Upon his return he turned to Sandra Whiteford. "Can you
speak now? What can you tell me?"

Miss Whitefors, still shaking, tried her
best. "I came to apologise for the harsh words I’d said before.
Trudy made such nice sandwiches and I was harsh to her. I should’nt
have done it. How can I apologise to her now?"

"When you arrived, what did you see?"

"I saw her lying on the floor, head down,
and that bloody poker text to her. I must have screamed and knelt
over her. Then Alyson Brunt came in and rang you, I think. Sorry
that I can't tell you anything else. I'm still shaky."

The policeman rudely asked miss Whiteford to
follow him. Sobbing, she did as she was told.

-------

Hendrych arrived in style; he’d chartered a
single engine Cessna and from Katoomba airport he took a taxi. He
was beaming with joy. "The nicest place in the world, and on top of
that a murder," he greeted Kroupa with outstretched arms. Summer in
the Blue Mountains. I almost suffocated from the fresh air when I
landed. And the beautiful eucalypti, millions of them. They smell
so nice. And it’s not so hot here. Sydney is so humid at the
moment. For a few days I can enjoy writing."

"Don't get too excited. Wait till you see
the pictures."

"What happened? You were so brief on the
phone."

"A little old lady was struck on the back of
her neck, presumably with a poker. She fell and fatally hit her
head on the edge of the fireplace. Her neighbour found her with
another neighbour next to the body and blood on her hands, holding
the poker. We have to wait for forensics. You can imagine, here in
the mountains there’s no rush. Enjoy yourself. Why didn't you bring
your Spider?"

"I thought of it. But then I thought it
would be too flashy for a quiet place like this. The Cessna had to
do."

"What are you going to write?"

"Let me see first the papers. I mean the
local papers, if there are any." responded Hendrych.

"There is the Gazette. It came this
morning."

Hendrych was scrutinising the weekly paper.
Among other local news, there was one headed "Murder or Accident?"
The article read: Those who had the privilege to know Gertrude
Winterbottom are mourning her premature death. She was discovered
this morning in her house. The police are treating her death as
suspicious. No arrests have been made. Miss Sandra Whiteford, a
neighbour, is assisting the police with the inquiry. The case is in
the safe hands of Senior Constable Andrew Milton and will be solved
soon. Assisting him is the well known, highly regarded and
acclaimed Detective Chief Inspector Rowan Kroupa. Anyone with any
information, please contact Katoomba police station without delay.
Complete confidence is assured."

"They don't say much, do they," Hendrych
complained. "You’ve got a lot of work ahead of you."

"I don't like my name being in the papers.
It gives the culprit an extra advantage."

--------

Alyson Brunt was sitting in the interviewing
room at the police station, facing Senior Constable Milton and a
stenographer. She felt important and uneasy at the same time. She
wanted to be in the Gazette again, but didn’t want to place herself
in any danger. Did she have to stick to the facts, or could she
enrich them with her own thoughts? The Constable helped her in her
indecision.

"Well, you have endured a really big shock,
haven't you? Ms Winterbottom was your friend, I believe?"

"Actually, she wasn't my friend. She was a
neighbour. She preferred the company of that wretched woman
Whiteford. Some women, and men, have weird tastes. If you know what
I'm saying."

"Tell me what you saw… tell me everything,
please."

"Well, as I was saying, there was an awful
yell - a screech really - as if somebody was being murdered. I ran
into Miss Winterbottom’s house and I found Miss Whiteford kneeling
over Miss Winterbottom, her hands covered in blood, and the poker
in her hand. I quickly ran to the phone and called triple-0. I
asked for the police and for the ambulance. Both were remarkably
swift. You can commend the policeman and women supporting you."

"Is there anything else you would like to
tell me?"

Miss Brunt thought for a moment and shook
her head.

"If you should think of anything, please let
me know. Oh, and there’s one more thing. You didn’t see anybody
else around Ms Winterbottom's house, did you?"

"No, Winterbottom wasn't particularly
well-liked… I mean she wasn't the most popular person around. The
Whiteford woman was about the only one who visited her regularly.
But even they argued. I could hear them, noisy as anything. But, I
don't sniff around. I couldn't tell you anything more."

"Alright then. Please wait until your
statement is ready for your signature. Then that will be all. Thank
you, Miss Brunt. You were very helpful. I'll keep your information
in confidence."

"You don't have to. Winterbottom is dead and
Whiteford will soon be behind the bars. They can't hurt me any
more. Goodbye, Constable Milton. Have a pleasant day." She departed
to the waiting room with her head high and her chin up.

It was going to be some
time till the forensics would be ready, and the police had said
that they’d left all investigations open, so Kroupa had nothing to
do, but take Sara for her regular walk. The day was pleasant, not
too hot or cold. The sun was shining, the wind was light - simply a
perfect day to clear one's lungs in the healthy air of the
mountains. But Kroupa was never completely satisfied and he wished
that the healing waters of Medlow Bath hadn't dried up. He was
walking slowly and every now and then he threw a stick for Sara to
fetch and bring back to him. They kept doing that for a
considerable while, without Hendrych crossing their mind for a
second. The birds were singing, Kroupa heard the lyre-bird
imitating what Kroupa thought was Sara's bark twice, the bell-birds
were entertaining them with their concert and Kroupa believed that
he recognised a bower-bird’s song. It was too peaceful to be the
scene of murder. He looked around to see where they were. The
signpost said Morven Road, but there was nothing but bushland.
Kroupa carefully noted their position on his telephone, the
co-ordinates showed up on his compass and they entered the bush.
The birds were now louder. Sara was off the leash, not strictly
according to the law, but she knew how to behave. Kroupa noticed
how nervous she’d suddenly become. Her ears were pricked and she
ran to Kroupa as if he was in danger. All of a sudden she gave out
a loud yelp and pushed Kroupa aside. The arrow just missed his
head. "That was the shot of a professional. Thank you, Sara. You
could’ve been walking home alone." Kroupa was surprisingly calm, as
if he’d expected something like that to happen. "I don't think we
should chase whoever it was. They surely have more than one arrow."
They both went back hastily, much to Sara's dissatisfaction.
-----

Hendrych was nervously waiting
in the foyer. "Where have you been? I
was getting worried. You know you shouldn't do that to me. Then I
drink too many Martinis."

"Don't panic,
for Christ's sake. I have Sara to look after me.
She just saved me from William Tell. Only he was aiming at my face
and not at an apple." Kroupa quickly recounted what had happened to
Hendrych who was clearly thinking of something else.

"
You’re lucky you're still alive. I hope my adventure won't
be so dangerous. It's a woman."

"What else could it be,"
Kroupa said, downing his second schooner
of Guinness. "What did you do this time? Out with it. Come
on."

"I didn't do anything. It just happened. I was
bending
over
for some olives at Coles when my low blood-pressure, you know –
hypotension – overcame me and I fell completely unconscious to the
ground. I should have been dead, but instead – I don't know how
long I was unconscious – as I was coming back to my senses, I felt
my hand touching something warm and smooth. You would not believe
what it was." Here Hendrych paused.

"I don't believe a word
of what you've just said. I didn't know
you had low blood pressure - with all that Martini. It wouldn’t be
the leg of a young woman you felt, would it?"

"You’
re unbelievable. How did you, how could you possibly have
guessed?"

"Intuition,
my dear Watson, intuition, and knowing you. We
professionals call it deduction. With you it's easy. You’re a
regular man, always the same pattern. No exception, always the same
Johan Hendrych. That’s what I like about you, the regularity. Let's
go back to your adventure."

"Her name is
Angelina
, she works at Coles, and I have invited her for high-tea,
at which you're going to join us."

"I guess that
you're in trouble, again."

"What do you mean, again? Promise
me you will be a
gentleman."

"Was I ever
anything else?"

"Here she comes
,"

"
The silhouette looks promising.
Let
'
s wait for the details."
Kroupa wondered and
was disappointed. The tall shapely figure carried a dull lifeless
face; the semblance of life it carried was thanks to the unskilful
application of an excessive amount of make-up. Hendrych was also
unpleasantly surprised, but he had to go on. He got up to introduce
her to Kroupa and then they ordered high-tea for three.

"I'm glad you invited me. I hope I don't have to foot the
bill. You can imagine what we get for our work. What do you do to
get your dough?" She look
ed at Hendrych.

"Write," was
Hendrych's simple answer. He already felt quite embarrassed.

"Oh, you're a blogger? I never met a real blogger!
And
you?"
She turned to Kroupa who enjoyed his friend's
embarrassment.

"You won't believe this. I’
m a real detective."

"Oh, I don't believe it!
A real blogger and a real detective at the
same time. The girls won't believe my luck."

"And you work for Coles supermarket, I understand. How long
you have worked
there?" Kroupa wanted to put Hendrych at ease.

"
Since I left school. I started at sixteen."

Hendrych, who
’d got his breath back, said, "You must be past
your age of consent, so I assume more than two years."

"Oh, you
’re cheeky. Do you want to get personal? Tell me, when you
write your blogs, do you use the Internet language a lot? And
emoticons?"

"I don't write blogs and I don't know what you
mean.
"
Hendrych's embarrassment returned.

"You know, like 4YEO, or AYOR. You know, 'for your eyes
only', and 'at your own risk'. Very useful, ain't it. Mr detective,
you could solve our problem
s. Instead of playing golf, like the others
do."

At this point
Hendrych was red in the face.

"I’d be glad if you told
me your problem." Kroupa was genuinely
enjoying himself.

"Oh, it's corned beef and canned ham, and similar. The boss
said there was something what he called pilferage. I think, if you
want my opinion, I think somebody is stealing the food. If
you're
a
fair-dinkum detective, you'll find out who."
Angelina
lost her interest in Hendrych and turned her attention to
Kroupa. "Will you do it? I'll help you. I think I know who the
thief is. Concentrate on Sharon. She likes corned beef. She likes
corned beef and red wine. She told me so herself."

"How do you
know it's stolen?"

"
We
have a very clever computer. If anything goes trough the register,
it knows it, and when we are low on stock, it reorders it. But we
now have no corned beef or ham and the computer doesn't know it. It
simply didn't go through the register. It must have been
pilferaged. And now we’re also short of coke. We don't sell
wine."

"
You
mean pilfered.” Kroupa couldn’t resist correcting her English, but
he was also becoming interested. “When did it all
start?"

"I don't know exactly, but
a few weeks ago they caught two kids
stealing at Aldi. They gave them a warning and it stopped for a
while. Now it's even worse."

"Do you know
the boys' names?" Kroupa was probing.

"Wouldn't have a clue about surnames, but their
badges
say
Mark and Greg. They sometimes work here at Coles. They help in the
receiving dock, below the car park. Whoever designed this place
didn’t know what he was doing. But their names are plastered all
over town. They say they're missing. If you want my opinion, some
shopkeeper caught them stealing and did them in. Good on him,
that's what I say."

"You’
re too tough,
Angelina
."

"I'm following the rules of the Bible. You shall not steal,
that's what I follow. I have principles. That's all. And if you
excuse me now, I'll have some of those nice l
ooking sandwiches and cakes.
This is just like in 'The Bold and the Beautiful'." She gobbled up
a handful of sandwiches, three cakes, and started to examine her
emails and SMSs. "Oh, I have to rush. Thank you awfully for the
sandwiches, but I really must run. You'll fix the bill, won't you?
See you." And she was gone.