After that emotional episode in Gary’s office,
there was no way the lovers could part. They spent hours in Roman’s guest apartment.
Sometime after midnight he had gone to bed and left the lovers a note to the
effect that they were welcome to breakfast or to make coffee in his kitchen.
“I don’t really care,” said Cleo.
“What are you going to tell Robert?”
“The truth. He’ll have to live with it, Gary.”
“I won’t be alone with Sybil again in compromising
situations,” said Gary.
“I don’t expect that, Gary,” said Cleo.
“I do of myself, Cleo. I don’t love Sybil and my
physical curiosity has been satisfied.”
“Awesome,” said Cleo.
“For the record, she can’t hold a candle to you,
Cleo.”
“Can you come a bit closer and say that again?”
“Don’t you have to leave now?”
“Not now, Gary. Later.”
***
Answering the question of who killed who in the case that
started out with a little girl sitting on the kitchen doorstep of the vicarage was
still fraught with speculation. The intricacies of a case that had lost its
beginnings and developed numerus endings were astonishing.
Forensic evidence would have to provide enough information to
sort it out since rational confessions from one suspect were unlikely and the
other suspect was quite possibly innocent of some of the crimes attributed to
him.
Gary hoped that the euthanasia theory would prove viable in
Banu’s case. Somehow it would be a more fitting end to the woman’s dubious
biography. He was swayed by the idea that Anna had been well-looked after and
Sybil was prepared to forgive her for wanting a child and then abducting one.
Gary bitterly regretted satisfying his curiosity about
Sybil’s ‘professional’ skills He was disgusted with himself for almost
sacrificing Cleo to that curiosity. But he had come to his senses and was now
determined to get the case closed so that he could concentrate on secure repatriation
with Cleo.
On the other hand, he could not honestly predict if he could
resist Sybil’s undeniable sex appeal, but he had no doubt that the affair with
Sybil would be a short one if it had not already run its course. The night
spent with Cleo had told him all he needed to know about what he really wanted
and the fact that she had thrown caution to the wind and was ready to tell
Robert the truth and take the consequences showed that she still felt the same.
***
Finding Johnny Daniels’ twin brother was now Cleo’s priority
on humanitarian grounds, not least, because that would be proof that the child
had been stolen and possibly shed light on the whole baby-trading business. There
was a chance that the surrogate parents had come into contact with Akbari. It
was worth a try.
Ruby Singleton, in all probability the woman who actually stole
that twin baby, was dead, but it was unlikely that was any more contact between
her and her clients once the deal had been successfully completed. She would
have left that to the corrupt Social Services women, who no doubt shared in the
profit from the deal. Cleo found it appalling that couples could buy a child and
pretend it was their own while the birth mother was grieving about the loss of
her child, or even unaware of what had happened. Either way, it was criminal.
But whatever the circumstances surrounding the arrival f
that baby in its #new’ family, Cleo’s first concern was to find a way of reuniting
the child with its natural mother. It would be a slow process. Maybe Mrs
Daniels would befriend the people who had given the child a loving home. That
would be the best solution.
***
On the basis of Roger’s advice, a psychiatrist’s diagnosis
of Courtney’s mental condition and any confession that might be forthcoming
would help Gary to finalize cases against Akbari and Courtney, both currently
suspected of murders without an exact stipulation of who had killed who until
their court trial, when there could be finality about the convictions.
***
After reading articles on various aspects of split
personalities, Cleo was sure that Akbari was not schizophrenic. If he had
committed murder, it was in full knowledge of what he was doing. She found it
really strange that Akbari had not tried to locate Sybil, or if he had, not made
any attempt to contact her. He knew about her arrival at the vicarage
presumably because he had been hiding out at the Singleton house and spied on
the vicarage after the death of his wife. He must have spotted Anna there. Did
he have a guilty conscience about Banu originally taking the child? Was it
possible for such a ruthless individual to have a guilty conscience about
anything?
On the other hand, was Sybil also untruthful about various aspects
of the case? If she had contacted Akbari, he could have denied knowledge of
Anna’s whereabouts. He might have insisted that he and Banu had no further
contact. It was scandalous that the child had disappeared, but sadly there were
countless records of children who had disappeared and never been seen again, he
might have said. Was it possible that Banu did not tell Akbari that Anna was
still with her?
Akbari did not tell Sybil where the child was, though they
must have been in contact, at least until Sybil left the tower block. Cleo was
sure that Sybil would have tried to get her back if she had known where Anna
was. She could have called the police in that case. But nothing of the kind had
happened.
Cleo came to the conclusion that Banu and Akbari had never
been estranged and that he had provided support for Banu and the child they
both knew was his. That was the only explanation of why Akbari had not even
looked for Sybil, or if he had found out, had not approached her, assuming he hadn’t.
Gary phoned Cleo to tell her that Alice Crane’s conviction
was under investigation and that the case had been officially reopened. Crane’s
chances of getting a pardon were good.
Mrs Daniels had been questioned by Barbara Fielding and had confirmed
her readiness to cooperate. She would not get a suspended prison sentence for
perjury, but Daniels would go to jail for perjury and his other crimes,
including violence committed on his wife and son and inside knowledge about what
happened to the second twin and his cashing in on its ‘sale’. The prison
sentence for brutality would keep him out of the way for some time. While he
was in prison, Mrs Daniels could get a divorce and rebuild her life.
***
“Dorothy and I are going to visit the family whose address
was in Ruby Singleton’s little book listing the babies she negotiated,” Cleo
told Gary. “Mrs Daniels has a right to her child. Barbara will be there to
support us if necessary.”
“Check first if the child has been adopted, Cleo. If it
hasn’t, it’s possible that the mother claimed she was its natural mother. Then
we could get a court order to check the DNA. For instance, we need to know where
she gave birth. If she can’t answer satisfactorily, that will be an indication
that they bought the child.”
“What happens if Singleton had confirmed in writing that she
had assisted the birth?”
“Let’s face that hurdle when we get to it. I think it’s
possible to say if a woman has given birth, even apart from the DNA.”
“I‘m pretty sure that the authorities will not provide me
with information about an adoption, Gary. If those guys bought the child, they
will have passed it off as their own and not had any contact with the
authorities except to register the birth.”
“I’ll find out, Cleo. As I said, there’s a risk that Singleton
managed the legal side, too.”
“I can probably get a sample of the child’s DNA for
examination to compare with Mrs Daniels’ DNA without you having to resort to legal
methods.”
“Stealing DNA is a criminal offence, Cleo.”
“Legal enough for you to apply for an official DNA test,
always assuming the parents don’t admit to what happened.”
“They probably won’t, since it’s also illegal to buy a
child, however it’s managed.”
“But it would save time and give Mrs Daniels the comfort she
needs right now.”
“I agree. Do you want to be in at Akbari’s kill?”
“When?”
“Early afternoon. Say 2 p.m.”
“OK. The search for Johnny’s twin can wait until tomorrow.”
“The psychiatrist’s report on Courtney is due. He wants to observe
Akbari during questioning, so he’ll also be at the interview.”
“It should be quite a showdown! Find out if Banu and Akbari
were estranged at any time, Gary. I think it could be important to know. Sybil may
not be telling the full story, either.”
Cleo sensed that Gary was going on the defensive in Sybil’s
case.
“It might put her on the wrong side of the law, Cleo.
Remember that she was a call-girl in those days.”
It was understandable that Gary should be anxious not to expose
Sybil to legal consequences for something she did in her regrettable past. Becoming
respectable was not easy for women such as Sybil. Cleo reflected that most of
the men who bought the services of prostitutes tended to be respectable and
stayed that way.
“But getting things cleared up is the way forward for
Sybil,” Cleo insisted. “You want that, don’t you Gary.”
“Not as much as I want you, Cleo. Would you have time for an
hour at Romano’s after the questionings at HQ.”
“Not considering another date with Sybil, Gary?”
“I thought we’d cleared all that up,” said Gary. “I think
it’s fair to say that she slept with me, and not I with her.”
“Did you enjoy yourselves?”
“Are you serious?”
“No, curious,” said Cleo. “I might pick up some tips.”
“She’s OK, but you are unbeatable, Cleo, and I mean that.
Will you come?”
Cleo was struggling emotionally to free herself of her
intense love for Gary and they were talking about sexual prowess. She was
disgusted with herself. Why could she
not enjoy a light-hearted affair and leave it at that?
“Yes, of course,” she said.
Robert had not even asked her where she had been the
previous night. She had been ready with an explanation. She got in so late that
she slept in the guestroom, she would say. She had not wanted to wake him. It
was even partly true. When she had got home from her night with Gary, she had
thrown herself onto the guest bed and slept until Robert brought her some
coffee about an hour later. If he suspected anything, he had not challenged
her.
***
Questioning Akbari was to precede questioning Courtney. The
psychiatrist was confident about his diagnosis of Courtney, but he was curious
about Akbari’s role in events.
Cleo sat in the observation room next door with Dorothy to
observe the proceedings unseen. Dorothy’s eyes sparkled when Akbari was brought
up from the cells by two security officers.
“He looks rather nice,” she whispered.
“So do tigers and polar bears, Dorothy, but don’t get too
near.”
“I don’t think I’m a prospective candidate for employment in
any of his rackets!”
“Be thankful!”
***
Roger took immediate control of the situation and started
out in a way that surprised everyone, especially Akbari.
“You were in constant contact with your late wife, weren’t
you, Mr Akbari?”
“Who told you that?”
“You weren’t actually separated, were you?”
“No.”
“Did you give her money?”
“Yes.”
Akbari’s cursory answers indicated that he was not going to
say more than he had to.
“Was that because she had absconded with your child,
Akbari?”
“Could be.”
“When did you find out that she was mortally ill?”
“She phoned me.”
“Did she ask you to take charge of Anna?”
“Yes.”
“Did she believe you were her father?”
“I had told her that.”
“Had she threatened to hand the child over to her natural
mother if you did not want her?”
“Yes.”
“But you would not have allowed that, would you, Mr Akbari?”
“No.”
“Did you see Banu before you met at the Bistro in Upper
Grumpsfield?”
“No.”
“But you had arranged to meet her there, hadn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you plan to kill her, Mr Akbari?”
“No. She asked me to.”
“And did you?”
“No.”
“But you provided her with poison so that she could kill
herself.”
“I provided her with pain-killers.”
“Morphine?”
“Yes.”
“Where had she been up to then?”
“I think she came straight from Scotland to the bistro.”
“Why the bistro?”
“She knew the former manager. She thought he would still be
there.”
“What did you put into her glass at the pub, Mr Akbari?”
“I’ve already told you. Morphine.”
“Do you think she later took an overdose?”
“It’s possible. Is that what she died of?”
Akbari was getting nervous. Cleo wondered if he had told
Banu what he was giving her.
“We are still waiting for conclusive blood analyses, Mr
Akbari,” said Gary, who had been listening quietly up to that moment.
“But you think she killed herself, don’t you?” Roger
continued.
“We’d like you to tell us, Mr Akbari,” said Gary.
“It’s possible.”
“Did you know the strength of the morphine?” said Gary, who
had now taken over the questioning.
“Morphine is only lethal if you take enough of it,” Akbari
said in a sarcastic voice.
“Did you follow Banu and the child after leaving the bistro?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I had other things to do.”
“So you let a sick woman drugged with morphine leave the bistro
with your child? That’s very hard to believe, Mr Akbari.”
“It’s true. She said she wanted to pray and would go to the local
Parish Church. After that she would take the child to the vicarage.”
“But she never got there,” said Gary.
“I know that now.”
“I don’t think you realized how sick she was, Mr Akbari.”
“I wasn’t sure. I should have taken her to a hospital.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“I wanted to, but she refused to go.”
“And you didn’t force her.”
“Her plan to go to that church and the vicarage seemed OK.”
“Although she was a Muslim?”
“Upper Grumpsfield has no mosque, as far as I know. Any place
of worship is better than none.”
“Did you ever look for Sybil Garnet?”
“No.”
“I suppose you had other things to do, didn’t you, Mr
Akbari? Finding Sybil might have caused more trouble than it was worth.”
Akbari did not answer.
“What about the other women, Mr Akbari?”
“What other women?”
“The other murder victims. Do you want me to name them?”
Akbari looked as if he had not really understood.
“Ruby Singleton, for instance. You knew her, didn’t you?”
“We had a business deal.”
“What kind of business deal?”
“She found new parents for unwanted infants and I helped
her.”
“Only unwanted infants?”
“I had no reason not to believe her.”
“I expect you wanted to believe her, didn’t you?” said
Roger. “So you didn’t check, did you?”
Did Akbari take them all for fools?
“Did you meet Singleton through your wife?” Roger asked.
“My wife could not have children. Singleton worked with the
doctor who made that diagnosis.”
“And the doctor’s name was Courtney,” said Gary.
“How do you know that?”
“An intelligent guess, Mr Courtney” said Gary. “He helped
lots of prostitutes, though he was not legally allowed to.”
“He’s a doctor. That’s what counts.”
Gary let that angle go. Finding out Akbari’s role in the
case was of a more urgent nature.
“So you had no reason to contact Singleton unless there was
an infant to be sold.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about, Inspector. I
stayed around so that I could be near Anna.”
Akbari was thinking ahead.
“So Mr Singleton had to go to make room for you, did he?”
“I slept in the guestroom.”
“But Mr Singleton wanted you to leave.”
”I did not kill him.”
“Did Ruby Singleton kill him?”
Gary hoped Akbari would confirm that because it would make
him an accessory, but he didn’t.
“Singleton died a natural death.”
“Who told you that?”
“Ruby.”
“And you believed her?”
“Yes. The man was in a bad physical state.”
“On drugs, perhaps?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m sure you do, Mr Akbari. Ruby Singleton had access to
drugs, and so did you.”
“But I did not supply her with any.”
“The autopsy will tell us whether you are telling the truth,
Mr Akbari,” said Gary.
Akbari still persisted with his story.
“I am telling you the truth, but I don’t know if Ruby was.”
“Was there a deal pending, Mr Akbari? Ruby Singleton was
seen at an address in Mossfield Street.”
Akbari became more animated on hearing that.
“I had not arranged a deal with her.”
“So she was probably doing some sort of trading on the side,
wasn’t she?” said Gary.
“I’ve no idea.”
“But she could have had something up her sleeve, couldn’t
she? That could be a motive for getting rid of her.”
“I did not kill her,” shouted Akbari.
“So how did you know she’s dead, Mr Akbari?”
“Because I saw it happen.”
“Who was it, Mr Akbari?”
“I can’t say.”
“But if I tell you, you could confirm my suspicion couldn’t
you?”
“Try me.”
***
Cleo wondered how much of her activities Singleton had
actually told Akbari about. If he had found out she was making money on the
side, it could also be a murder motive. She phoned Gary’s mobile and suggested
that.
Gary nodded and turned back to his questioning.
“One way or another, you had good reason to want Ruby
Singleton out of the way, didn’t you, Mr Akbari?”
“Look, you guys,” replied Akbari. “I didn’t kill anyone, but
Ruby did.”
“Who? Her husband?”
“In easy stages, with arsenic first then morphine for the
pain.”
“How do you know that and why have you not mentioned it up
to now?” Gary asked.
“I thought your forensic experts would know arsenic
poisoning when they saw it.”
“How do you know about arsenic symptoms, Mr Akbari?”
“From my medical studies.”
“So you are a doctor?”
“I was.”
Two suspects and both doctors. According to Akbari, Ruby
Singleton had poisoned her husband. Did he see Courtney killing her?
“Did you sleep with Ruby Singleton, Mr Akbari?”
“You must be joking. She was a fat old cow.”
***
After a short pause, Akbari announced that he was not going
to answer any more questions without the presence of a lawyer. If they wanted
to keep him in jail they would have to charge him.
“No problem, Mr Akbari. I herewith charge you with smuggling
women into the country and forcing them into prostitution.”
“You can’t prove it.”
“Is that a confession, Mr Akbari?” Gary asked.
“No.”
“It’s illegal to smuggle women into the country. It’s
punishable by law.”
“You can’t prove anything.”
“Don’t be so sure. Just be thankful we believe your story
about your wife, at least for the moment. Otherwise the charge would be murder.
Take him away!”
“What do you think, Doctor?” Gary asked the psychiatrist.
“Truth is stranger than fiction.”
“So you believe him?”
“Don’t you?”
“I’m starting to.”
***
The psychiatrist settled back in his chair and Gary skimmed
through the report on Courtney’s state of mind. Courtney was brought in. He was
quiet and composed, but looked puzzled about being there at all.
“He’s Dr Jekyll today,” commented the psychiatrist in a low
voice to Gary. “Mr Hyde has been pushed to one side for the moment.”
Gary wondered what would happen. He had never consciously come
across such a situation before. Was Courtney play-acting? Could the
psychiatrist tell the difference? Cleo reflected that shrinks normally let
patients talk and get things off their mind. Was that shrink competent?
Gary started with routine questions to get Courtney to admit
to being an obstetrician. Courtney was ready and willing to supply all necessary
information.
“Born?”
“In South Africa.”
“Age?”
“47.”
“Married?”
“Widowed.”
“Profession?”
“Medical doctor.”
“Specialist?”
“Obstetrician, retired.”
“Place of work?”
“Norwich.”
“And the name of the hospital, Mr Courtney?”
“Closed down.”
Courtney had provided all this information without
hesitation. So far, so good. Nothing unusual except that it was unusual for a South
African obstetrician to end up working in a hospital in Norfolk.
“When did you lose your wife, Mr Courtney?” Roger asked, and
Gary was relieved to have a break from questioning.
“Which wife?” said Courtney.
“I mean the one we found in your house at Thumpton Close,”
said Roger. “Are there others?”
“Oh, her. Recently.”
“How many wives have you had, Mr Courtney?”
“Two.”
“What happened to your first wife?”
The psychiatrist leant forward. Courtney had not told him
about the first wife. Gary was also hearing about her for the first time, but
he did not let Courtney see his surprise.
“What about your first wife?” Roger continued. “Where is she
now?”
“Dead.”
Courtney was as cool and dispassionate as if he were being
asked about a stranger.
“What did she die of?”
“She fell off the Eiffel Tower.”
“In Paris?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe you,” said Roger.
“You’d better,” said Courtney, and his voice seemed to have
taken on a hard edge that had not been apparent before.
The psychiatrist signalled to Gary and Roger that something
was going on in Courtney’s mind. That was not hard to discern, even without the
benefit of Freud and a few others Gary had never had the time or inclination to
study.
The interview was turning the corner. Gary took over the
questioning. This time Roger was glad to hand over the reins.
“Are you sure it was the Eiffel Tower, Mr Courtney?”
“It might have been somewhere else. I don’t remember.”
“Did you love your first wife?”
“No.”
“And then she fell off the Eiffel Tower.”
“She lost her balance.”
“So it was an accident.”
“The police said it was suicide because you can’t just fall
off the Eiffel Tower,” Courtney volunteered.
“But you can be pushed, Mr Courtney.”
“Then somebody must have pushed her.”
“You, for instance?”
“They didn’t charge me with anything.”
“So you got off scot free.”
Courtney sneered. Gary was no longer sure who he was talking
to. The original Courtney or his other personality had more or less confessed
to murder. How many Courtneys were there? Did Courtney really have a multiple personality?
He scribbled the question on a sheet of paper and handed it to the
psychiatrist.
Roger Stone intervened. “Courtney, where did you marry your
first wife?”
“I don’t remember.”
“What was her profession?”
“What’s that to you?”
“I was just wondering.”
“Did you meet Mrs Singleton in Norfolk, Mr Courtney?” Gary
asked.
“Yes.”
“So it was quite a shock to see her again in Upper
Grumpsfield, plying her old trade.”
Had Gary hit the spot?
“Were you afraid Ruby Singleton would eventually spill the
beans on you, Mr Courtney?”
Courtney merely shrugged his shoulders.
“I expect that was enough of a reason to kill her, wasn’t
it?”
“Bitch of a woman. She deserved everything that was coming
to her.”
“And Margot Smith?”
“I don’t know a Margot Smith.”
“You do. She called herself Devonport sometimes and you knew
that she was part of the baby trading ring, didn’t you, Mr Courtney.”
“She corrupted my wife, as if she needed any help.”
“There were two Devonports too many, weren’t there Mr
Courtney?”
“I needed a clean break from all that mess”
“But your wife turned on you and accused you of killing the
two Devonports, didn’t she?”
“What if she did?”
“So she had to die, too.”
“I’m quite sorry about that.”
“So am I, Mr Courtney. So sorry that I’m charging you with
murder.”
“Can I go now? It’s teatime.”
***
Roger Stone, Gary Hurley, the psychiatrist, Dorothy and Cleo
retired to the HQ canteen to discuss their reactions to the most extraordinary
interviews that they had just conducted or witnessed.
“Do you think Mr Courtney is sane, Dr Err….?” Dorothy
addressed the psychiatrist.
The psychiatrist gave Dorothy his card. He was used to being
nameless. In his advisory capacity he tried not to develop any social contact
to his patients. They usually had a track record of being analysed. He
reflected that Miss Price was unlikely to need a psychiatrist.
“Hudson,” he said, offering his hand.
“Hudson? That’s just like the obstetrician in the American
series,” said Dorothy.
“No relation, I assure you.”
“How could there be, Dr Hudson? The US series is a humorous
soap.”
That dialogue had broken the ice. Very clever of Dorothy,
thought Gary.
“In answer to your question, Mrs …”
“Price. And it’s Miss.”
“Oops. I should have noticed what an independent spirit you
have.”
“Here’s my business card, Dr Hudson,” said Dorothy. “It’s
our Agency one, but my private number is also on it.”
“So you’re work with the Hartley Agency,” he said. “Miss
Hartley’s lucky to have such a shrewd colleague.”
“Yes, I am,” said Cleo. “And HQ also has reason to be
grateful.”
***
“So what is your reaction, Dr Hudson?” Gary asked, irritated
by Dorothy’s successful interruption.
“I now think differently about Mr Courtney. I did not have
all the facts about his private status.”
“Neither did I,” said Gary. “Assuming they are not fiction”
“I was as surprised as anyone,” Roger added.
“Surely that story about her falling from the Eiffel Tower
can’t be true,” said Cleo. “I’ve been up there and it’s as safe as houses.”
“It might be an adaptation of the truth,” explained Dr
Hudson.
“Well, I’m sure he pushed her off somewhere,” said Dorothy.
“And once a murderer has got away with one murder, he has no compunction about
repeating it in some from or other.”
“I tend to agree with you, Miss Price,” said the
psychiatrist. “But where did you get that idea?”
“Late night movies, Dr Hudson. A mine of information for sleuths.”
“I’m going to watch them from now on,” said Gary.
That made everyone laugh.
***
“I expect it’s not the right moment to change the subject,
but who was the man in the blue polythene bag buried in Singleton’s garden?” said
Dorothy.
“Ruby Singleton can’t have married again. She was dead to
the authorities.” said Cleo. “She’d have had to resurrect herself,” said Cleo.
“You’re assuming she left Courtney, and not the other way
on, she could simply have got a divorce and married again,” said Dorothy. “Singleton
might have been her maiden name.”
“Can you find out, Gary?” Cleo asked.
“Is it necessary?”
“I thought you preferred facts to speculation,” said
Dorothy.
“I’ll get on to it,” said Gary, “but it’ll be like moving
the goalposts.”
“It’ll be like getting at the truth, Gary,” said Cleo. “It
might get us further in the baby-smuggling case. We have only scratched the
surface on that.”
***
“What if Singleton alias Mrs Courtney she survived her fall
from the Eiffel Tower?” said Dorothy.
“Impossible,” said Dr Hudson.
“Doesn’t that prove that Courtney was lying about that?”
said Dorothy. “If she had left him, he might make up an exaggerated story to
save face.”
“And that opens a whole new can of worms,” said Cleo.
“I agree,” said Dr Hudson. “I’ll have to examine the
recordings again and question him intensively.
“Which means that he cannot be charged with anything,” said Gary.
“Not yet,” said Dr Hudson, “but I’ll leave you with certification
that he is a danger to himself and the community and must be kept in a secure
place.”
“That’s a start,” said Gary.
“That’s all I can do for the moment and I’d really like to
move on now,” said Dr Hudson.
“There’s still a lot of police work left to do,” said Roger.
“We will continue our investigations on the basis of the evidence we already
have and wait for your report, Dr Hudson.”
“I’ll get my extra office up and running,” said Cleo.
“Robert will be glad to get that over with. And so will I.”
“And I’ll be moving in part time, Cleo,” said Gary,
surprising himself.
“You’ll be what?”
“Moving on. I’ve never felt very comfortable in Roger’s job.
He’ll get it back and you can be sure that he will help you all he can.”
“Are you sure?” said Roger. “A part-time cop is only half a
cop.”
“Whatever that means, I’ll take it into account, Roger.”
“I think Gary means that you are back to stay, Roger,” said
Cleo.
“Cleo’s agency work is invaluable, Roger. I’d like to share
it.”
“I know that, but part-time is not possible as a
high-ranking police officer.”
“Then demote me, Roger. You are too young to spend your days
on the golf course.”
“What are you going to live on?”
“Half the police job, for the time being. I’d like to go back
on patrol.”
“And if that is not possible?”
“I’ll quit altogether and live on my wits.”
“Join the club!” said Dorothy.
***
“Wait a minute,” said Cleo. “I have other plans for that
office.”
“I’m just accepting your offer, Cleo.”
“I’m withdrawing it, Gary.”
“You can’t do that,” said Dorothy.
“Yes I can,” said Cleo. “I hadn’t given it enough thought.”
“But you can see that Gary wants to give the Agency a try,”
said Dorothy.
“Not if that includes
exonerating ex-hookers.”
“It doesn’t, Cleo. See you for lunch in an hour. I have some
paperwork to catch up on first.”
***
Romano was surprised to see Cleo.
“Are you here to meet Gary?” he asked her.
“One more time then I should finish it,” said Cleo.
“Don’t do that, please,” said Romano.
“He doesn’t need me anymore, Romano. He’s interested in an
ex-hooker.”
“Then show him you won’t accept it,” said Romano.
Gary heard that last remark as he walked to the counter
behind Cleo.
“Won’t accept what, Romano?”
“That you would prefer a prostitute, Gary,” said Romano,
plainly disgusted.
“I don’t. Romano. Cleo is the love of my life, but I’m not entirely
sure that she believes that.”
“What did you do all night in my guest room then, Gary? And
what did you do to stop her believing in your amore?” said Romano.
“I made a fool of myself,” said Gary. “If I could get her to
forgive me…”
“I’ve already done that, and you know it,” said Cleo.
“Here’s the key to my guest room, Cleo,” said Romano. “Take
it and we’ll know everything’s all right. Push it away and I won’t offer it to
you again.”
Cleo stretched out a hand to the key. Gary exchanged glances
with Romano. Cleo took the key and looked at the two men.
“How can a girl resist such an offer?” she said. “I could
live without you in my life, Gary, but I don’t want to.”
“We went through all this last night, Cleo.”
“So what?” said Cleo.
“What are you going to use your second office for, Cleo?”
said Gary, harking back to the dialogue in his office. “Roger wants his job
back and I don’t want it. You saw how eager he was at that questioning. I won’t
stand in his way.”
“If you try to populate my little office, you’d be standing
in the way of an ongoing private eye with a talent for catching felons on a
staircase.”
Gary looked crestfallen.
“What’s she saying, Gary?” said Romano.
“She’s putting me in my place,” said Gary.
“No, no, no,” Romano exclaimed, pointing to the keys of the
apartment. “Your place is up there!”
***
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