Murder at Teatime Read online

  “What do you know about her?” asked Diane.

  “Not much, her name is Ruth Hedley, she is married, in her fifties.”

  “Ruth Hedley? That name doesn’t ring a bell, is she from Apple Mews?”

  “No, she lives half an hour away.”

  “Inspector, I don’t think an interview with Mrs. Hedley would be a bad idea, she may be the break in the case you are looking for.”

  “I will ring her tomorrow. Thanks Diane, is there anything else you would suggest?”

  As Diane looked around the room once more, she thought about what she did when she came home in the evening from an errand to town. She had a certain place that she sat her purse and Deidre would give her the mail or take her packages. Thinking of her routine, she had another question for the Inspector. “Mrs. Tamarland’s will only mentioned the nephew, is that correct?’

  “Yes, there does not seem to be any amendments or changes.”

  “What about her finances? Anything unusual in her spending or shopping habits? Any changes to her finances or unusual activity? Was there anything missing from her purse, any credit cards or cheques?”

  “Her purse was examined and it still contained her wallet, all of her credit cards, her chequebook and ledger. There were nearly fifty pounds in cash in her purse.”

  “And her finances, any changes to her banking?”

  “I have requested the statements for the last three months, I should have those by the end of the week, but I can call and demand that they send them to me immediately.”

  “Yes, I would start there and interview the maid. The killer drank tea after shooting the widow, confident that the crime would never be solved. That kind of confidence is either the result of careful planning or abject stupidity. Either way, there must be some small detail that will lead us to the murderer, we just have to look under every stone.”

  “Are we done here?” asked the Inspector.

  “Yes, we are,” said Diane as they walked out of Mrs. Tamarland’s house together. Just as they were approaching their vehicles, Diane turned to the Inspector, “Forensics has done a sweep of the house, and their results?”

  “Nothing conclusive so far.”

  “You said that Mrs. Tamarland was found by the sofa, that is where the blood stain was located on the rug. The killer would have been sitting in one of the chairs, the chairs with the accent pillows.”

  “I think I see what you are getting at,” the Inspector answered. “I will have the forensics team do another sweep, this time concentrating on the furniture and the pillows in more detail.”

  “They may not turn up anything useful but without any leads to go on, I don’t think being especially thorough will be a waste of time.”

  The Inspector agreed as they said their goodbyes. Diane slid into the driver’s seat of her car and gazed at the house with the modest garden. Mrs. Tamarland spent her last years in the house and the last minutes of her life; it was peaceful and serene. It seemed like an injustice that Mrs. Tamarland would have to die violently in a place that was so tranquil. As she turned onto the lane, she vowed that she would help find Mrs. Tamarland’s killer, a person so cold that Diane feared for the consequences for Apple Mews if they failed.

  Chapter 5

  The rain fell in a mist making the air outside the vehicle muggy, a change of pace for the weather in Shropshire. Inspector Crothers was grateful for the air conditioner in the car as he and Sergeant Webster sat in the parked car. They waited patiently in front of a row of townhouses that had been converted into flats, waiting for Mrs. Tamarland’s nephew to return home after work.

  “I bet he’s at the pub,” Sergeant Webster said as he peered out the windscreen.

  Inspector Crothers nodded his head, “You’re probably right. With his history, he doesn’t seem like the sort that would come right home after work, whip up a gourmet dinner and spend a quiet evening at home.”

  “We will be lucky if he makes it home by midnight. Looks like we are in for a long night. Seems like old times, doesn’t it Inspector? Reminds me of a stakeout.”

  “You mean the endless hours sitting in a car, trading life stories and praying you don’t have to use the loo?”

  “Sounds like you know the drill,” the Sergeant replied. “All we need is a cup of tea, a few biscuits and something from the chippy and we are in business.”

  “If he isn’t home by eight, we will see him at work tomorrow. I should have done that already,” the Inspector said with a frown.

  “You were just giving him the benefit of the doubt. It's hard enough to keep a good job with his kind of record. A detective nosing around asking him questions at work wouldn’t look good.”

  “It’s just my kind-hearted nature,” the Inspector answered, “Although, after reading his history about swindling retirees out of their money, I’m not sure how inclined I really am to be kind to him.”

  “These people work their whole lives, and he waltzes in and takes them for what he can. I hope five years in prison made him see the error of his ways.”

  “As sole heir to his aunt’s estate, he may be doing more than swindling these days.”

  “Looks like we are about to have a chance to find out, there’s a man coming up the street that might be our guy.”

  “Sergeant, if that is Thomas Tamarland, we aren’t going to get a chance to clog our arteries with fried food anytime, maybe after the interview.”

  Inspector Crothers waited for the figure to come closer to the car. The man was in his early thirties, thin to the point of being lanky and sporting shoulder-length hair. Working at an auto repair shop, his uniform should have been stained and dirty, but it was clean and slightly wrinkled. As the Inspector turned off the car, he had already made an observation about Thomas Tamarland; he was either a cautious mechanic who managed to keep his uniform clean, or he did very little work.

  Inspector Crothers and Sergeant Webster approached the man as he was opening the door of the bottom flat of a townhouse. He did not seem to be surprised to see two officers suddenly appear at his house, a sign that he had experience being the subject of inquiry and interrogation.

  “Well, well, what brings you two fine gentlemen to my humble abode?” he said with a smirk.

  “Thomas Tamarland, I am Inspector Crothers, this is Sergeant Webster, we would like to ask you a few questions.”

  “You police types always do, I haven’t got anything to hide so come in. I had to fire the maid, hard to get good help these days, don’t mind the mess,” Thomas said as he pushed the door to the flat open.

  The flat was tiny, just a studio and a bathroom. The smell of cigarette smoke, mildew, and stale beer was overwhelming, but Thomas didn’t seem to notice as he slid a pile of clothes and papers off the card table, “There we go, somewhere for you gentlemen to sit, hope you are going to be okay with the folding chairs, they are cheap but get the job done.”

  Inspector Crothers was reluctant to sit down in the flat. His eyes watered from the mildew growing on every surface and he was convinced that he would have to throw away the suit he was wearing after leaving the residence. As he sat down on the rickety folding chair, he thought of the flats he had visited over the years, and this one he decided was among the worst.

  Thomas Tamarland walked across the dingy, gray carpet and opened a mini fridge, selecting a can of beer, “Since you two are my guests, I have to ask, either one of you want one?”

  “Thank you, no, we are still on duty,” the Inspector answered as he decided to charge ahead with the questions. Glancing at the Sergeant, he could tell from Sergeant Webster’s facial expression that they both wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

  “That’s better for me, it means I don’t have to share,” Thomas replied, laughing, as he took a seat on the bed. “You didn’t come here for a social call, what can I do for you? There’s a match on at 7.45 I have an interest in, not trying to be rude, but let’s get to it.”

  Inspector Crothers answer
ed, “I couldn’t agree more, let’s get to it. You are aware that you are your Aunt’s sole heir to the estate, all of her property and any holdings or investments she may have had will go to you, is that correct?”

  The man seated on the bed smiled from ear to ear as he raised his can of beer and said, “Here’s to the old girl, you bet I know about it. I can’t wait to tell that man I work for what he can do with this job as soon as the lawyer gets the paperwork settled.”

  “Were you close to your aunt? She must have thought a lot of you to leave you everything she owned?” asked Sergeant Webster.

  Thomas gulped the beer and replied, “Close? I’m not going to lie, I wouldn’t say we were close. In my younger days, she would send me presents at Christmas and birthdays. I might see her a few times on summer holiday. I must have made an impression on her, she could see that I had potential or whatever you call it.”

  “When was the last time you saw your aunt?” Inspector Crothers asked as he watched carefully for the man’s reaction.

  “When I got out of the can, she came to pick me up.”

  “You haven’t seen her since?” the Inspector prodded.

  “That’s not right, I did see her last month. I needed some money, got myself in a bit of trouble with a local fellow, runs the bets here in Shrewsbury,” Thomas said as he drained the beer out of the can in one gulp.

  Sergeant Webster immediately responded, “You like to bet on the matches, is that it?”

  “Always have, a weakness of mine. Football, cricket, rugby, I like them all, you don’t mind if I have another one. Working at that shop is killing me, can’t wait to move into that big old house, I am going to have a big flat-screen TV in every room, mark my words.”

  Inspector Crothers tried to overlook the man’s callous attitude as he continued the questioning, “About the bets and money, how are your finances, do you owe anyone any money?”

  “I’ve had a run of luck since I paid that guy off. Everything’s been coming up roses for me, I pick the right teams and been doing good. If you don’t think so, look at my aunt, just died and left me everything, how’s that for luck? Must be my year.”

  “Your aunt didn’t just die as you say, she was murdered in her home by someone she trusted, someone she was close to, and you think of that as lucky?” Sergeant Webster asked with barely concealed disgust.

  “When you put it like that, it does sound rotten what I said. But here’s the truth, I don’t know why she left me everything but I’m glad she did. Working every day like a regular guy is not for me. It might be alright for you two gentlemen, working in a suit in a posh office, but not for me.”

  Sergeant Webster continued, “And her death? What about that? Doesn’t it bother you that she was killed violently in her home by a person she knew, that she trusted?”

  “It’s terrible, that the old girl went out like that, but I didn’t have nothing to do with it if that’s what you mean. I was at work the day it happened, I know my rights and I got witnesses,” Thomas insisted in a loud voice.

  Inspector Crothers responded to the man’s increasing agitation. “Mr. Tamarland, you are the sole beneficiary, you alone stand to gain from her death. You don’t seem to have any remorse or sadness regarding her passing.”

  “Is that what you think? Because I didn’t know her that well, because she left me everything and because I am not crying my eyes out, I must be guilty. Is it that or that I just got out of prison?” Thomas said as he gestured wildly with his beer.

  “You have to admit that your record is not in your favor. You served time for swindling pensioners and then your aunt dies and leaves you every penny. If we didn’t ask that question, how would that look? It would look like we weren’t doing our jobs,” said the Inspector, changing tactics.

  Thomas Tamarland sighed, his demeanor less defensive. “You got a point when you put it like that, but this time I swear I didn’t have a thing to do with it. What I did before was small-time, just a few hundred pounds here and there, nothing the old codgers would miss. But killing somebody was never my thing. You can ask anyone that knows me, I don’t like fighting and I hate violence, except in rugby, but that’s someone else breaking bones, not me.”

  Sergeant Webster played along with the Inspector. “Can you think of any information about your aunt that may be useful to us, anything about her life or her habits? I know you didn’t spend time with her, but did she write you letters, call you, talk about her life?”

  “Not anything you don’t already know. My aunt kept to herself, she didn’t like a lot of company even when I was a kid, it was quiet at her house, not a lot of noise or visitors. It was boring except she did let me watch the TV in the breakfast room and eat ice cream.”

  “Unless you can think of anything additional you would like to tell us, I believe our conversation is concluded for now,” Inspector Crothers said as he stood up.

  “Let me finish that for you, don’t go anywhere, don’t travel and don’t leave town unless I check in with you gentlemen, is that right?” Thomas added with a smile.

  “Yes, Mr. Tamarland, that’s right, here is my card. We will be in touch,” the Inspector answered.

  “Look at the time, you did a good job, the match is coming on in a few minutes, looks like I won’t have to miss a minute of it. Good thing too, I have a fiver riding on it.”

  “We will leave you to it, thank you Mr. Tamarland for your cooperation and I advise that you don’t leave the county without contacting my office.”

  Inspector Crothers and Sergeant Webster left the squalor of the damp basement flat and walked back to the car. The Inspector removed his jacket and breathed in the fresh air. The rain was falling at a steady pace and he was getting wet as he stood by the car, but he didn’t care and neither did Sergeant Webster, “I’m going to have to burn these clothes when I get home,” Inspector Crothers said as he unlocked the car.

  “I couldn’t agree more, I need a hot shower and a shot of penicillin after being in that place. How does he live like that?”

  “I shudder to think what Mrs. Tamarland’s house is going to look like when he moves in. She was neat and tidy. She was a clean person and her nephew lives like that, she must have seen something in him that I’m missing.”

  “Or he was right and they weren’t close, she may never have seen how the man lives.”

  Sergeant Webster looked down at the jacket folded over his arm as he slid into the passenger seat, “I’m going to miss this suit, it was one of my favorites.”

  Despite the rain, Inspector Crothers pushed the button on the door and rolled down the window of the driver’s side, letting the smell of rain into the car, along with a few drops, before saying, “What do you think? He was one cool customer, wasn’t he?”

  “He sure was, but I just don’t think he is our man, he works at an auto repair shop. I’ll do the legwork on it, but he has the word of everyone that he works with that he was at the repair shop at the time of the murder, just like he said. If he called in sick or left early, we can find out about it, but I doubt it.”

  “What about the will, do you think he knew about it? Could he have convinced his aunt to mention him in the will?”

  “That may be possible, but it doesn’t look like a con job. He volunteered that information about owing money for gambling and betting. He didn’t hesitate to say that he asked her for the money. If he was conning her, I don’t think he would have given up that piece of information. Not willingly.”

  Inspector Crothers replied, “He’s either the smartest criminal we have met in a long time or he is just as he seems, a small-time crook and con man with a gambling problem. He may have conned his aunt, but if she willingly left her entire estate to him, that isn’t a crime, it’s just poor judgment. I bet he spends every pound of it and sells the house in less than a year.”

  “Inspector, I know you told me that we would get something from the chippy after the interview, but I think I lost my appetite.”

 
“Me too, I can’t think about food after being in his flat. I hope he keeps his aunt’s maid on to look after things at the house. I would hate to see the place condemned by a real estate inspector by the time he is through with it.”

  “Maid? You promised Diane that we would check into the maid. See what we could find out about her, do think we ought to pay her a visit?”

  “I do want to talk to the maid, but not tonight, not wearing this suit that smells like the back room of a pub.”

  Sergeant Webster sniffed the jacket draped over his arm and threw it into the back seat, “It's probably too late for a visit and I need a shower before I go anywhere else.”

  Chapter 6

  It was after eight when Inspector Crothers returned to his office He wanted to write the report about the interview with Thomas Tamarland while the details were still fresh in his mind. Powering on his computer, he quickly scanned his emails and was pleasantly surprised to see a message from the account manager of Mrs. Tamarland’s bank. Opening the attachment to the file, he hit print. The printer spat out ten pages of banking history in less than a minute. As he scanned the documents, he was joined by Sergeant Webster.

  “Are we working late tonight?” the Sergeant asked as he knocked on the open door of Inspector Crothers office.

  “Hmmm?” Inspector Crothers answered as he read each line of the statements. “No I suppose not, you can go, I may be here for another hour.”

  “Two heads are better than one, I can stay,” Sergeant Webster answered.

  “In that case, read over these, make sure I haven’t missed anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Yes sir, what would be out of the ordinary for Mrs. Tamarland? It's not like we know what is ordinary for her.”

  Inspector Crothers handed the Sergeant two pages from the statement as he answered, “One thing I can say for Mrs. Tamarland, she was organized and predictable. Her house was tidy, not a pillow out of place, her garden was weeded and in good order and her banking was just the same. From what I can tell by reading these statements, she paid the same bills every month, nothing out of the ordinary.”