Episode 13 - Nigel

Tuesday, December 8

Nigel was flattered that Cleo wanted him to be given the task of tracing Mrs Peel’s past. The internet cooperated. It did not take him long o come across a disreputable party girl named Agnes who had haunted the Houses of Parliament as a provocative young woman and angled herself a few profligate parliamentarians, none of whom she had been able to steer into marrying her, however.

“How the hell did you find that out?” Gary wanted to know.

“Women who have affairs with their bosses or bosses’ friends are usually experienced and often written about in society columns, so I started off by getting information about such young adventuresses from the National News Agency and followed it up.”

”So it isn’t just the media these days.”

“It’s big brother, Gary. Someone always knows something about anyone you care to mention and that gets into the papers. The guy I talked to passed me on to a snooty sounding woman who was willing to look up the name in here records.”

“Did you do all that over the phone?”

“It’s sometimes quicker than wating for a email to be read and answered.”

“I hope you disguised your voice, Nigel.”

“A low-pitched posh one. If anyone asks, I’m a Chief Inspector with special powers at MI5. That’s another thing you learn: People respond better if you are public school, with wealth and titles. If you can convey thatmessage, there nothing to stop you.”

“So how did Mrs Peel get to Westminster?”

“Pretty women can always get into places barred to others, especially if they are targeting or even hanging on to men looking for a bit of skirt on the side. Such men are flattered, of course. For some reason she did not change her name when she moved from society to housekeeping and she did that via some politician or other. I supposed she hoped the wife would get fed up of the threesome and sue for divorce. For respectability’s sake she gave erself the Mrs title.”

“A neat idea, Nigel.”

“Depending on whether you see a mention in an obituary as a carrer boost.”

“The wife’s?”

“That time it was the husband’s, so she moved on to the next quarry.”

“It might not be our Agnes, Nigel.”

“She was the only Agnes in the records. Middle name: Florence.”

“Shall we check that first? It would be more convenient if Peel had killed the wife. You’ll have to find out how he died, Nigel.”

“As long as it does not involve a date with that snooty assistant.”

“Don’t worry. Accept if she insists and I’ll go instead and say you are on a special assignment.”

“Thanks.”

“Thanks. I’ll phone the OAP home, shall I,” said Nigel. “I can use a pretext such as …”

“Phone Peel now and ask her from me when she last saw Mr Barclay alive. If it takes her by surprise, tell her that a little bird, not me, told you she had had an affair with her former boss. You could even address her with ‘Florence’ and see how she reacts."

“That’s going in at the deep end, Gary.”

“You can swim, can’t you?”

“I’ll stay afloat.”

“I know it’s not really your job to interview Peel, but I’d rather you did,” said Gary.

“As your assistant I am duty bound to do it,” said Nigel.

“Did the snooty woman tell you in so many words what Miss Peel had done to get into that obituary?”

“Not just an obituary. She was also a witness at a later trial. Someone she had been associated with after the incident with the politician had killed his wife.”

“I wonder if he really killed her. She might have been dispensing useful tips on how to dispose of people without suspicion. I’d like to read those articles, Nigel.”

“MI5 probably can’t get at them.”

“Police records can, and anyway, you are not in the MI5.”

“Peel was never indicted.”

“Perhaps she should have been.”

***

Nigel consulted Colin Peck, keeper of HQ records and able to access any trial documents he needed. The result was another astonishing example of negligence. The record of the trial of a certain older gentleman with pots of money who had filed for divorce and claimed that his young wife beat him and forced him to defend himself with fatal consequences for the wife, had ended with a ‘not guilty’ verdict.

Agnes Peel had been looking after the man’s wife as a personal carer. In the end, the woman had died of botulism poisoning after apparently eating canned mushroom soup that no one else touched. The trial had been a routine affair. The husband in question had a clean slate. The only witness had been Agnes Peel, who was not a trained nurse and had apparently only called in the doctor when she had decided that her patient was not simulating as she often had, as her doctor reported. The can containing the mushroom soup had been washed thoroughly so no trace of the soup was found. The part-time cleaner who had cleaned the can said she always did that. There was no evidence of any wrongdoing. After that, Miss Peel ditched her rich employer and moved on..

“Why would she do that when she had a clear playing-field?” said Nigel.

“That husband might have suspected something. He might even have been in on the murder having promised Peel heaven on earth,” Gary deduced.

“Or he had used Agnes Peel to get rid of his wife and subsequently taken up with another young lady,” Nigel suggested.

“I expect you can find that out, too,” said Gary.

“The murder was never proved,” said Nigel.

“That doesn’t mean it neverhappened.”

“OK, so there were plenty of fish in the sea and staying with him would have made her suspicious,” said Nigel.

“That sounds in character from what I’ve heard about Agnes Peel.”

“It all raises more questions than it answers,” said Nigel.

 “The powers that be were asleep,” said Gary. “We’ll have to look elsewhere for a Agnes Peel’s motive; at Mr Barclay, for instance. Did Mrs Peel know him before she became housekeeper at the OAP home? Was what we have already found out about her the reason for him to have a hold over her?”

“She may also have been an angel of mercy, Gary. We could look up the deaths register of that home. It’s been going for ten years or so. I expect quite a few have passed through to beyond, leaving their wealth behind them.”

“Angels of mercy have one of two aims: one is a sincere if wildly mistaken idea that they must put old people out of their misery, and the second is getting at the fortunes of the victims. It’ll be lot of work for you, Nigel, combing through all the death certificates issued for that home. We could make it easier by talking to Dr Mitchell, who is Upper Grumpsfield’s doctor on call and sworn to secrecy. He probably did not suspect anything, and anyway, you can’t bring the dead to life again.”

Nigel shuddered.

“I’ll wait with my inquiries till I’ve seen Dr Mitchell, shall I?” Gary offered. “Cleo will want to be in on it and if she volunteers to take over, all the better.”

“Anything else I should know?” said Nigel, who was now quite enthusiastic about his mission despite the gruesome connotations.

“You should know that Dr Mitchell once told Cleo that he suspected his wife of hoarding cash in a bank account of her own. It would nice to know where that cash came from.”

“The plot thickens, Gary!”

“Minds work in mysterious ways! We’ll have to look at Mrs Peel’s account to see if lump sums over and above her salary have gone into her account. It would probably back up the idea that she was blackmailing Mr Barclay.”

“What kind of a woman is that doctor’s wife, Gary? She was perhaps friendly with Peel.”

“Ask me another. I've never met her. She might be connected with the whole business, like some kind of James Bond eminence. I don't know if Dr Mitchell is still puzzled or even married to her. We'll have to ask Cleo to find out. I did not follow up hat claim of Dr Mitchell, and that was probably a mistake. The doctor trusted Cleo enough confide in her, but I don’t think he was ready to have his wife investigated. However, he might tell her more in confidence. I’ll send her a message now.”

The message took the form of asking Cleo about the business concerning the mysterious money Dr Mitchell’s wife was hoarding. Had he told her it was a false alarm? Was it a false alarm or should the cops be doing something about it?”

Cleo rang immediately.

***

“Not in so many words, Gary. Dr Mitchell definitely did not want the cops delving. I think he was sorry he had told me that much. Do you want me to get onto it?”

“Can you?”

“I’ll phone him, tell him I’m sorting out earlier reports and as him if he still worried about his wife’s behaviour concerning unaccountable sums of money.”

“Great. Phone me if there’s anything to report.”

“Sure.”

***

“I thought the OAP home case was going to be open and shut,” said Nigel.

“We don’t know if Mrs Mitchell is involved, Nigel. I rather think that she is following some plan of her own.”

“And if she isn’t?”

“Good question,” said Gary. “I’m going to talk to Crab again on the sabotaged kitchen case. That’s another one we’ll have a hard time proving. Plimsoll was only a tool. I don’t think Crab calculated that the guy might be prone to alcohol binges.”

“We’ll also have to pull in the owner of that pub,” said Nigel.

“We’ll have to find him first. Plimsoll is dead and his surviving mate does not know his surname, or so he says. There are too many Joshes in the world to find him on his pen name.”

“But there must be deeds.”

“That’s another little job for you, Nigel.”

“Shall I make some coffee?” said Nigel, thinking that Gary’s little jobs had often enough turned into mammoth tasks.

“I’m going home for lunch and will stay there for the rest of the day, Nigel. I would like to discuss Mrs Mitchell’s possible involvement in the Peel case. I also want to look in at the bistro and Cleo will want me to control that everything is going well at the villa. Send me any relevant information that you find and go home at five.”

“OK! Give my love to Cleo and all those bairns, but what should we do with Crab, Gary? You can’t just keep him locked up.”

“I can, Nigel. Can you go down to his cell and tell him that he has to wait another day for a decision on his future? Take him a couple of magazines and a TV.”

***

Cleo’s phone-call to Dr Mitchell proved rather curious. He was apparently no longer concerned with his wife’s mysterious savings now he knew she was not having an affair with someone who was paying for her attentions. Mitchell had implied that his wife had been what he called ‘a loose woman’ in the old days.

“So basically it was a question of morality, was it?” said Gary.

“If Dr Mitchell was relieved that his wife was no longer ‘loose’ it means that she had a past from which he presumably rescued her.”

“Don’t we all have a past?”

“Meaning she had contact with Peel or Barclay or some other dubious characters at some time or other.”

“Another job for Nigel?”

“Sure. One more week and you’ll be above that glass ceiling, Gary, and Nigel will have to be promoted if you want to keep him happy.”

“I’m suggesting Greg for my old job. Nigel would be useful to him.”

“Then share him,” said Cleo. “He can assist Greg in the office and investigate if you give him enough status.”

“You are a wise old owl, Cleo!”

“Hey! Not so much of the ‘old’.”