Episode 4 - Smashed and Grabbed

Wednesday cont.

Gary got to the bistro expecting the worst. Chris was already there with Ned, his forensic assistant. They had taken official photos and were taping everything for prints. An insurance expert was also there, tutting furiously and begrudging the compensation as if he were going to have to pay it out of his own pocket.

“Be honest with me, Mr Browne. Did you do this?” the man said. “And did you hide some of the equipment from my eyes?”

Mitch looked appalled.

“I hope that was a joke, Moses,” he said.

The insurance man had handed him a business card on which stood ‘Moses Baker, your friendly insurance man’.

“The name is Baker,” the man retorted. “We don’t go by first names in my company.”

“And we don’t break up our kitchen in our bistro,” snapped Mitch.

Gary felt bund to interrupt the irascible carpetbagger and furious bistro manager.

“I can assure you that Mr… (did you say Browne, Mitch?) …Mr Browne did not break up his kitchen or steal any of it,” he said. “Part of it is in a car that had an accident down the road. You can brace yourself and your company for the financing of a portable kitchen if Mr Browne can order one at such short notice. Otherwise you will face compensation for loss of earnings.”

“So who are you?” said Baker.

“CDI Hurley at your service. I assume that you are genuine. If so, you will get a copy of the police report in due course. The damage was reported during the night and these people are going to lose their livelihood if you waste our time making insinuations.”

Mr Baker shrank in the face of Gary’s comparatively mild tirade.

“We sometimes make jokes in my job,” he stuttered.

“At the expense of your clients, no doubt,” said Gary.

Baker felt the need to get away from the DCI’s sharp comments.

“Who are those men?” he said, pointing at Chris and Ned.

“Forensic experts, Mr Baker. We are just as interested in finding the culprit as you are, but we don’t start by accusing the victims of fraud.”

Gary had taken an instant dislike to Mr Baker.

“Thanks Gary,” said Mitch.

“So you are friends, are you?” said Baker.

“Almost neighbours,” said Gary.

Delilah had stood by silently up to now.

“Do you suspect us of something, Mr Baker?” she said., moving into Baker’s comfort zone. Delilah could be quite fearsome when she intruding on someone’s comfort zone.

Mr Baker shrank back, as he was meant to do.

“Oh, it’s Miss Browne, isn’t it?” he said, offering her his hand to shake.

Delilah ignored it.

“Mrs Browne and I’d thank you to get on with your job before I lodge a complaint against you for false accusation,” said Delilah, eyes flashing and again moving into Baker’s comfort zone.

“My wife’s quite a lady,” said Mitch as Baker took several steps backwards. “Don’t get on the wrong side of her, Mr Baker. We did not fake the break-in and there’ll be plenty of evidence to prove that.”

Baker was now counting the cost of his rudeness.

“Yes Mr Browne. No, Mr Browne.”

“Three bags full, Mr Browne,” said Mitch, leering at the insurance man.

“Well, I’ve got all the information I need so I’ll be going,” stuttered Baker, who was now seriously upset at the realization that he would find nothing to absolve his company. They would have to pay out. It was only nine o’clock in the morning and he still had two fires and a jewelry theft to deal with, not to mention hit and run at a chemist’s shop. Drugs cost a lot to the insurance company, and they never really knew how much was missing. Chemists liked to make the high insurance premiums work for them.

Mitch hadn’t quite finished.

“Make a note of the fact that this kitchen was newly equipped last year, so the contents are almost new and will have to be replaced by new ones,” said Mitch. “I have al lthe invoices, so don’t make any more accusations.”

“No, Mr Browne.”

Baker got back into his car so fast that he had to retrieve one of his shoes before he could drive off.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, the Brownses and Gary could not resist applauding.

***

“Cleo will have a bone to pick with you,” said Gary.“You didn’t tell us that you had got married. Is that what you wanted to tell Cleo, Delilah?”

“It was a spontaneous action,” said Delilah.

“It was my idea,” said Mitch. “I don’t want to have to adopt my baby, do I?”

“Ha,” said Gary. “So that’s it. Congratulations on all counts. Cleo will be as delighted as I am, but break it to her gently. She’s emotionally delicate.”

“That does not sound like Cleo,” said Delilah.

“Are you sure it’s not you who’s emotionally delicate, Gary?” said Mitch.

“I’ll think about that,” said Gary. “Did you make a list of what was stolen, Mitch.”

“Here it is. I hope it’s complete.”

Meanwhile Gary had made his way to the kitchen window and looked at the devastation. He was shocked.

“You must have enemies,” he said.

“Only Mr Baker and he didn’t do it!” said Mitch. “We made mincemeat of him didn’t we?”

“I’ll get the stuff brought back here from that crashed car as soon as it’s been taped for clues,” said Gary. “Does Chris have your tabs?”

“Yep. All computerized, Gary,” said Chris. He and Ned had gone through their routine and were ready to leave.

After exchanging hugs and shouting cheerio to Chris and Ned, Gary also left. He would have to inspect the scene of the car accident and decide what to do about the car. Ned had already said it was a mess.

***

When Gary arrived at the scene of the crash the car had already been towed off to HQ, he discovered. Chris had got everything under control, as usual. Miss Plimsoll, the owner of the stolen car, rang Chris about ten times to find out when she would get it back Chris had already notedgot the damaged car emptied and noted the stolen items for comparison with Mitch’s list. A van would transport the items back to Upper Grumpsfield before the day was over and Miss Plimsoll could collect her car next day because the damage was mainly superficial and if Miss Plimsoll was happy to drive around in a dilapidated care whose appearance had not been enhanced by the crash, that was her business. Chris especially disliked females who used foul language. This time, after getting the news that her car was to be released next morning, she was all sweetness and light.

***

Delilah and Mitch were picking up the cutlery strewn on the floor of the ruined kitchen when Cleo arrived pushing Max and Mathilda so that they could get some fresh are, though it was extremely cold out.

In the devastated kitchen, all the drawers had been ripped out, but the thieves had not wasted time stealing relatively worthless utensils. They had concentrated on removing anything they could sell and them doing as much senseless damage as they could before retreating in the stolen car with portable gadgets on the back seat and the dishwasher perched precariously in the boot with the boot lid open.

Gary was astonished that the theft had not drawn any attention since the break-in must have made quite a racket. He thought the rock music was mearly an accompaniment to what his prudish mother-ibn-law Gloria would call ‘hanky-panky’ and said so.

“We think they hammered in the same rhythm as our bass booster,” said Mitch.

“Tell that to the marines,” said Gary.

“Aren’t you deaf from the volume?” said Cleo.

“We weren’t just listening to music,” Mitch said sheepishly.

“Oh,” remarked Cleo. “Have you had permission to pick up the cutlery?”

“Chris said the thieves would not have touched any of it, but they have enough fingerprint evidence anyway.”

“At least we have tools to eat with even if there isn’t a single plate left whole,” said Delilah.” I’m going to Milton’s this afternoon to get some.”

“There’ll be no cooking done today, that’s for sure,” said Mitch.

“Have you ordered a mobile kitchen?” said Cleo.

“Yes. It’s coming tomorrow. You should have seen Moses’s face when Gary told him that  his company would have to pay for it.”

”Moses?”

“Moses Baker, carpetbagger for that insurance firm,” said Mitch. “Gary really laid into him. Mr Baker was very put out.”

“You could ring Bertie Browne and get him to write about your catastrophe, couldn’t you?”

“I suppose we could, couldn’t we Del?”

“Start cooking on Friday,” said Cleo. “Ask Robert to help. He has probably cooked in one of those kitchen vans many a time.”

“Good idea,” said Mitch.

***

“Talkinf of cooking, I have a bone to pick with you two,” said Cleo.

“Do you?” said Delilah in a small, guilty voice.

“I got a text from Gary saying that I should talk to a Mr and Mrs Browne.”

“Did you?” said Mitch.

“I don’t know a Mr and Mrs Browne,” said Cleo. “Are they your parents, Delilah? You didn’t tell me they were visiting. Or is it Bertie Browne and his wife?”

“Mum and Dad are not visiting and we are certainly not related to that Gazette editor, even at a distance” said Delilah. “Mr and Mrs Browne are us!”

“So I should congratulate you, shouldn’t I?”

“I did not want my baby to be illegitimate, Cleo. We did it on the spur of the moment.”

“The baby?”

“The marriage,” said Mitch.

“Oh,” said Cleo. “And you didn’t tell me.”

“You’ve been busy,” said Delilah.

“Correction. You’ve been busy,” said Cleo.

“But you know now. It all happened so suddenly,” said Mitch.

“The baby?”

“The marriage,” said Delilah. “Are you very upset?”

“Of course not,” said Cleo, hugging them and saying how delighted she was. She was just giving them a bit of tit for tat, wasn’t she?

Mitch explained that they’d been to Middlethumpton town hall to re-register the pub licence and had happened to see the Births, Marriages and Deaths office.

“So you went in, did you?”

“Mitch said we should look in since we would have to register the baby.”

“And I suggested getting married so that we could register the pub and the baby in both our names,” said Mitch.

“And I asked Mitch if he was proposing,” said Delilah. “No, he said. I felt dreadful. Then he went down his knees and asked me to marry him.”

“Del got over my little joke and said yes, so we got an emergency date at the Registry Office,” said Mitch. “I told them the baby was imminent. It worked.”

“When is the baby due?” said Cleo.

“April,” said Delilah.

“You two really are the limit.”

“The man there didn’t look hard and once we had the appointment it didn’t matter when the baby is coming,” said Mitch.

“I wore a baggy outfit for the ceremony,” said Delilah. “Just in case someone asked.”

“But they didn’t,” said Mitch. “And now it’s done and dusted except for the baby.”

“Awesome,” said Cleo. “I’m thrilled.”

“So are we,” said Delilah. “I told Mitch so many times that he was too young for me, and he told me so many times that he had chosen to come to Upper Grumpsfield because he wanted me in his life. So here we are, Cleo: Just married and about to become parents.”

“It took you far too long to get round to it,” said Cleo. “Two singles looking for a mate. And now you’re two happy people who can’t believe their luck. I can hear violins.”

“We would still have been on cloud nine if those idiots hadn’t attacked the kitchen,” said Mitch. “Who could it have been, Cleo?”

“Do you have enemies?”

“Gary asked that. No,” said Mitch.

“Yes,” said Delilah. “My landlord wants this place back, but he can’t have it as I have a long lease. I think this is his way of getting us out.”

“Did you tell Gary that?”

“I’ve only just thought of it,” said Delilah.

“Give Gary the details and he’ll get the guy in to talk about it. I think I’ll be there myself. If he demolished your kitchen, he’ll confess with a little coaxing.”

“Gary said there were two of them,” said Delilah.

“Then we’ll get them both, folks,” said Cleo. “I’d better make tracks now. Gary was supposed to go to the OAPs, but I don’t think he had time and I ned to be home at midday to feed these little ones.”

“That’s another mystery,” said Delilah. I heard about it from one of the kitchen staff who comes in for a nip of gin mearly every morning and keeps me up to date with the goings-on at that plkace. “That old fellow had it coming to him!”

“Why?”

“Formby was a cheat and a liar. He made up to the old ladies at the home and stole things from them.”

“That’s police business, Delilah.”

“That kitchen worker backed off when I tried to get more details out of her.”

“But you believe her, don’t you?” said mitch.

“Why would she lie? It might be interesting to look at his possessions, Cleo.”

“Unless someone gets there first,” said Cleo. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll let you know how I get on. Gary will keep you up to date about the kitchen and I’ll phone him now about that murdered Guy..”

“So it was murder,” said Mitch.

“Probably.”

***

Cleo had plenty to think about on the short walk to Pensioner’s Paradise. She called Gary briefly on her mobile to tell him what Delilah had told her and to let him know that she was going there. She would book a respite for Dorothy’s sister Vera. That would make it possible to get the lie of the land-

“As long as you don’t send Dorothy there. She’s too well-known.”

“She is, but her sister Vera isn’t, Gary.”

***

To Cleo’s surprise, her request was well-received at the home. When would the old lady be coming? Did she have any dietary requirements? Did she want to bring a pet? Mrs Peel told Cleo that one lady had smuggled a cat in, but had been found out.

An awful thought came to Cleo.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“We sold it to a nice man from the animal rescue,” Mrs Peel said.

“Wasn’t your new resident upset?”

“We told her it had run away,” said Mrs Peel.

“You know there was a health and hygiene scare in Middlethumpton, don’t you, Mrs Peel?”

“No.”

“Cats were being served as rabbit in some restaurants.”

“Oh dear.”

“I wouldn’t eat rabbit, either,” said Cleo. “Lovely furry creatures.”

“I would not eat any meat off creatures I loved,” said Mrs Peel. “Fortunately, I am not an animal lover.”

Cleo thought to herself that the woman did not love people very much either, except for the payments that private home cashed in for letting old people live there.

“I expect you have quite a lot of problems to solve as the manager of this place,” said Cleo.

The woman’s tone of voice changed.

“Well of course I’m only the housekeeper,” she said. “You really need to ask Mr Barclay about final decisions, but he’s away somewhere on holiday, so I decide about everything. There’s no one else except the part-timers who clean and cook.”

“Awesome,” said Cleo. “So my friend’s sister can move in at the weekend, can she?”

“That will be fine, Miss Hartley. She can have Mr Formby’s room or the one next door  attached to it. He didn’t use it much. I just think he wanted a bit more privacy. The staircase is on the other side.”

No scruples there, thought Cleo. Business is business.

“Sure. Do you think I can take a quick look at the room so that I can describe it?”

Mrs Peel seemed rather reluctant, but she led the way up two flights of stairs to an ensuite room furnished rather like a boudoir with a baldachin over the bed.

“This is the main room. Mr Formby brought his own things, Miss Hartley. I think it’s like a lady’s bedroom, but some men are funny like that.”

Cleo kept her comment to herself.

“I don’t supposed he entertained any ladies here,“ she said instead.

“Not that I know of. I think he went to their rooms,” said Mrs Peel knowingly.

“What’s in that metal box, Mrs Peel?”

“Papers, I should think. The hotel had such boxes for valuables so we let residents have them if they want one. Some old people hang on to very strange objects and don’t have enough window-ledges to display them.”

Mrs Peel was using a disparaging tone that Cleo thought was a bad reflection of Mrs Peel’s attitude to the elderly residents.

“In the old days, when hotel guests went out, they locked those boxes and if they had a one they could carry, they deposited it at reception so that it would not be borne away. Otherwise I suppose they kept them in their rooms. We don’t have that hotel service so that’s where all the boxes are. ”

“This one is quite large, Mrs Peel,” said Cleo, remembering that Mr Formby had been said to be a thief. It would also explain why he visited ladies’ rooms. Cleo did not think he had anything in mind with the ladies. Louis Battle was probably the person who best knew Mr Formby’s preferences.

“About that respite,” said Mrs Peel. “It costs a lot to live here.”

“I’m sure it does, Mrs Peel. You’ll have to tell me how much.”

“I can’t tell you that until your lady moves in, but it won’t be less than five hundred a week.”

“Being exclusive sorts out the wheat from the chaff, doesn’t it, Mrs Peel?”

“That’s the basic rate, Miss Hartley. It does not cover food and laundry, servicing or alcoholic drinks.”

“So in the end it probably costs twice the basic price,” said Cleo.

“It’s not for people on state pensions, Miss Hartley. We are a cut above that.”

Cleo felt stifled by the woman’s arrogance and decided to get out fast.

“I’ll phone you about the respite, Mrs Peel. My babies need their lunch now so I’ll have to go.”

“How long will your friend’s sister stay?”

“I’ve no idea. Why?”

“We can get a new resident in when she goes,” said Mrs Peel. “I don’t like to have a room empty.”

“Can you take some of the bijou furnishings out of that room, Mrs Peel?”

“That will cost extra.”

Cleo wondered how many extras wandered into Mrs Peel’s pocket, but did not comment. Very soon she found herself outside, wondering if Gary could get the woman on anything. Not everything was quite above board in that house.