The Princess and the Cop (16 page)
‘There is an identifying mark but I doubt it will help. One of the nurses came to me after the birth and said the mother was not accepting them as most mothers would. It happens sometimes. She was put off by being unable to tell them apart without their hospital name tags, which most mothers can do, instinctively, after a while. I’ve studied that since and it seems that the mother can’t accept them as hers, until she can be sure that the name she’s given each, is the correct name, without other means. It’s a biological thing. Mother needs certainty. She wants to talk to her little baby while nursing it, and she wants to do that occasionally by its name. Often her baby is identified by its cry, but even their cries were the same. And later their voices, I believe. An unusual case.’
‘So, to calm her down and get her to accept them at breast, I had a little blue blob tattooed under the left little toe of the one she called Alan and the same stain under the right little toe of Alwyn. The idea was that they’d look like dirt or similar when the boys went barefoot. Something made me suggest that she keep these marks her secret, even from the boys. Those marks should still be there. They were enlarged as they grew older but before they’d remember the procedure. But what good it does, I have no idea. Even if you put names to them, which one committed the murder and how do you prove it? I don’t envy you. There was never any love in that family, Inspector. The father left as soon as he sensed what they were like and the mother stuck with them until they were up and earning a living. Nobody knows where she is now, I’m told. Hiding from them is my guess.’
I said, ‘They seem very close. I saw them kissing on the lips. Would they be homosexual?’
‘Very observant, Inspector. Yes. It happens. Remember the Corsican Brothers? One felt the other’s pain. A bit stretched but close. I know what you’re thinking. Charge one and let the other one suffer if he did it. It’s worth a try. You have some psychology, I think.’
‘Criminology. At the University.’
‘And you probably thought it was all a waste of time.’
He stood and shook hands.
‘Goodbye and good luck, Inspector. Call me if you need to talk.’
****
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I learned that Warren was displaying his trademark enthusiasm above and beyond. The search warrants flowed. The issuing justices were beginning to question.
He spent his off-duty hours searching the Taylor house for the knife. He went to the other Taylor house where Alwyn had departed to. Alan was there now. No luck.
There was a big camphor laurel tree in the backyard of the first house and Warren was convinced the knife was there. I took it up to the extent of staging a mock murder, with Warren climbing the tree with a knife, hiding it and then exiting through the front door. We had Mrs.Wolza participate, victim’s scream and all, and the timing of her meeting with Alan, or Alwyn, was fairly accurate.
I had thought Mrs. Wolza had almost trapped Alan or Alwyn, but she was a lady of some weight and some years and she took a while to get to the Taylor house and see whoever was down the road. So A1 or A2 had a fair bit of time to hide the knife.
Warren became even more committed. His nickname became Warrant.
Don, now under even more pressure, demanded to know exactly what I was doing in the investigation and what my plan of attack was going to be. He’d never done that before.
‘All their lives they’ve messed with people’s minds, Don. I’m going to mess with theirs.’
‘Hope it works. We’re not doing very well, are we?’
‘Have faith, Commissioner! You have the best detective in the world married to the most beautiful girl in the world. Nothing can go wrong.’
I decided to confront the Taylors and give them a chance to confess. It was time to take command. They were in different interview rooms.
They played their games, flashing their teeth.
‘No more questions, Alan…’
‘I’m Alwyn.’
‘I’m giving you the chance to confess. The Justice system is just about sick of you two, so the decision’s been made to charge one of you and to hell with your guilt or innocence.’
His lawyer laughed.
‘You wouldn’t get past the front door of the Court with that, Inspector. Where did you get your training?’
‘Oh, I know what I’m doing, sir. I’ve been studying my man here, and his brother, and I know exactly what makes them tick. I’ve had professional help. From a Professor, no less.’
I was throwing darts and I was getting strikes. Alan was smiling but it was a doubtful smile and he was glancing quickly at his lawyer.
Alan didn’t confess but he wasn’t as cocky as before, when he departed.
Then Alwyn, or Alan, with the same scenario, almost word for word, even to the lawyer’s reaction.
There’d be some feverish talk in the old homestead tonight. Get them guessing was my psychology. Start them on the worry path. Mind games!
I had no such problem. Tonight I’d talk to Tessa!
And then Warren found the knife. He had the good sense not to touch it but I made the climb into the camphor laurel tree to see the knife, which had been dropped down an old hole left where a branch had broken off, a long time ago. The tip of the handle was above the hole.
We all crouched around on branches while a forensic scientist carefully withdrew the knife, being filmed and photographed all the time, and then replaced it. It was blood-stained and a small sample was taken. Later it proved to be Pat Taylor’s blood.
I went home and sat and did a lot of thinking before contacting my troubled Princess. She wanted to talk about the twins and that suited me. As we murmured along I began to get a few ideas, so I kissed her goodnight, trans screen, and went to sleep. If all my plans worked, I’d soon be with her.
****
I decided to go all legal, with the Prosecutor at first and then persuaded him to request a Judge’s Chambers hearing. I had the Professor standing by.
The Judge gave me permission to address him, over the objections of the Taylor lawyers. The Taylors were present, smiling.
‘The big problem with this case, Your Honour, is telling which person of interest is which. All their lives, I’ve been told, they’ve played this game of swapping identities and it’s going to cause a miscarriage of justice unless the judicial system acts. One of them is going to get away with murder, or even both, unless the system acts. This is an unusual investigation and that’s why I’ve asked to speak to you. I’ve discovered a way to identify which Taylor is which and I have a witness standing by to do just that.’
The lawyers objected. They knew nothing of this. The Prosecutor sought an adjournment, took them outside and told them what we were going to do.
They withdrew their objections. They wanted to be sure of the twins’ identities too. After all, there were fees to be paid. The Judge acquiesced and Professor Henry Bostock was called into the chambers.
The Prosecutor led from him who he was, what he’d been and what he’d done in his career. He didn’t mention the marks on the babies. The Prosecutor then asked the Judge to rule that the Taylors remove their shoes and socks. They didn’t object. They didn’t know what was going on. I was enjoying this. Wait till I spoke to Tessa tonight!
They put their feet up on the backs of two chairs for all to see but especially the Judge. Now they were looking a bit puzzled and I was sure the twins didn’t like not to be in control. They looked at their lawyers and when they got no response they entered a foreign area of uncertainty.
I wondered how long before they defied us all and lowered their feet, but they didn’t.
I was winning.
The Professor explained what he’d done as a young doctor and then, wearing gloves, lifted the small toes of each, gently, and said, ‘This is Alan and this is Alwyn.’
The Taylors pulled their feet down quickly and tried to see what we’d all seen.
‘I so rule,’ the Judge said.
I pulled some coloured insulation tape from my pocket and held it up to the Judge.
‘With your permission, Your Honour, I propose to put this tape on the persons of interest to identify them until a more permanent marking of indelible ink can be arranged.’
‘So ruled.’
The lawyers carried on about infringing their civil liberties, but the Judge scoffed. How did some indelible ink infringe anyone’s civil liberties?
One of them moved to the tattooing of concentration camp prisoners. The Judge nodded at that but said the tattooing didn’t infringe the victims’ liberties. The gas chambers took care of that. The lawyers subsided.
And now the smirking and flashing teeth disappeared. Warren took the Taylors into custody and they left the Chambers. The Judge held me and the Professor back.
‘How did all this happen, Henry?’ he asked the Professor.
‘This clever detective traced me, beginning at the beginning, as a good detective should.’ He picked up his briefcase. ‘See you at the club next Saturday night.’ He turned to me. ‘Playing their game, I see. Good!’
And now, identities established, we knew who we were dealing with.
I joined our little group back at headquarters and let Warren have the privilege of charging Alwyn Taylor with the murder of his sister-in-law. We were firm and quick, giving them no chance to settle to this new and alarming situation. We’d dismissed Alan and he was near distraught, being aware of his brother’s likely incarceration. He refused to leave the headquarters so we let him sit in the foyer and watch the passing parade, until he got sick of it and left. He was crying. And confused, this detective was hoping.
Why Alwyn? My instincts were kicking in and I tried to think their way. It was too obvious for Alan to have killed his wife, I thought. Always, in their evil little lives, the twins had been quick with lateral thinking. I did some now. Alwyn had no motive. He’d long ago moved out. Mrs. Wolza, the neighbour, said Alan and Pat had had many loud arguments lately. A motive for Alan, certainly, but too obvious. No lateral thinking.
Tessa and I had a lovely talk that night---love mostly, and I told her I’d be with her soon.
I had a wonderful sleep, the best for weeks, and then I waited.
I didn’t have long to wait.
18.
Alan appeared at the Police Headquarters the next morning, looking haggard, and asked to see me.
I greeted him cheerfully and courteously. He asked if he could talk to me. So I took him to an interview room, warned him that I’d be recording our conversation, invited him to have his lawyer present and called Warren in to take notes.
I’d prepared for this and had, on the table near me, a blood-stained carving knife in a transparent plastic evidence bag.
He stared at it in fascination until I shoved it to one side, as if it had no part in these proceedings.
‘I want to confess to Patricia’s murder. Alwyn didn’t do it. He had no need to. Motive you call it don’t you? She was going to leave me. That’s why I killed her. Alwyn was waiting at the pub. When I’d killed her and faced off Mrs.Wolza, we met outside the pub and walked in together. You see, Mr. Corrigan. I know all the details. I must have done it.’
He didn’t have to say that last bit, about knowing all the details, I thought. That should have gone without saying. I was becoming more confident.
‘Where did you hide the knife?’
‘In the tree. But that doesn’t matter now. You’ve found it!’
I took the knife and put it in a drawer as if it were of no account. His eyes were wide, watching my every move.
‘Ok, Alan, let’s go out to the house and you can show us where you hid it. But I think you should have your lawyer and Alwyn’s lawyer. Alwyn is at the Remand Centre and there’s really no need for him to be present, is there, Alan? We don’t want you two squabbling over guilt now, do we?’
He was humble. ‘No, sir.’
So we loaded up a couple of Police cars. The Commissioner wished to be present and that was good. He didn’t get out much these days.
When we arrived, I sent a cop next door to invite Mrs.Wolza to join the party, explaining what was happening. She was with us as quickly as she could make it, very breathless.
I knew I was taking a chance here and that my whole case could collapse, but I was pretty sure of myself. Don gave me some long looks and Warren was nervous.
Alan climbed up the tree as did a few Uniforms. I briefly thought of Alan’s jumping to his death and decided to take a chance on that. His love for his brother was such that I thought he wouldn’t want to leave him, even in the circumstances.
I said, ‘Forget what you think you saw back at Headquarters, Alan. The knife is where you hid it. I’m sure of that.’ Don looked at me hard.
The knife was still where we’d found it and this was my big play. I climbed the camphor laurel too, and then, on an impulse, ordered everyone from the tree to give Alan a clear go. Don looked at me harder.
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