30 - Gloria

Sandra Rossi’s death and feeling guilty about not confiding in Cleo kept Gloria awake for most of Tuesday night.

On the one hand, she knew that meddling was wrong and on the other it was her public duty to find out why her neighbour had met such a tragic fate. And yet again, she did not want to broadcast her possession of that diary. What was worse, for all she knew her phone might already be being tapped.

It should be said that none of these considerations made Gloria less curious and less likely to look for some answers.

Blissfully unaware of what her mother was up to, Cleo went to work as usual. On Wednesdays the library only opened in the morning, so she would have the rest of the day to decide what to do next.  She wondered if it was wise to mention the subject to Robert.

Cleo should have reacted to the warning sign. The glint in Gloria’s eyes was unmistakeable. Surely she would not investigate off her own bat. Gloria had likened herself to a private investigator on more than one occasion and assured Cleo that she would be ready to step in if and when Cleo decided to take the idea of opening a detective agency further.

With the birth of her babies only weeks away, Clare had taken the morning off and was going to pester the self-styled experts at the job centre to see if anyone was available to take her place for a few weeks.

Karl von Klippen had said he would jump in if nobody could be found, but Clare would have liked him to support her rather than the public library. Even Edith had said she could do hours when the children were at school, which totally ignored the problem of what you did with babies for the first four years or so, but might cover the first four months. A vicar’s wife is at home. Clare could not stay at home and go to her job.

Cleo was touched by the way Edith and Karl were rallying round about the library, but the job centre would be put out if they weren’t consulted, so for the third time in as many weeks, Clare would scour the list of candidates and maybe there would be someone suitable among them this time.

Cleo had only just opened the doors to borrowers when the phone rang. It was Gary Hurley wanting to know if Cleo had seen her mother that day.

“Heavens, no. I don’t see my mother every day, Gary. She’s very independent. I think she’s at the dance school this morning. Have you tried there?”

“I didn’t know your mother was a dancer. Have you got a phone number for the school?”

”Sure. Gloria’s story is of a show-girl let down by – well to cut a long story short, my father. He left me the cottage in Upper Grumpsfield. That’s how I came to be here at all.”

Cleo gave Gary the requested phone number and he rang off. Ten minutes later he was back in touch.

“No. She didn’t turn up there. Where else can I look? Any ideas? I don’t want to startle her. Does she have a mobile phone by any chance?”

Gary did not add that he did not want to forewarn Gloria, either.

“Yes, she has a cell phone Gary, but I’ll go round to her apartment when the library closes and see if she has anything on her notice board. She makes notes of everything. You could meet me there.”’

“That’s a good idea, Cleo. What time can you be there?”

“My assistant is not here this morning but we close here at one. Could you give me a lift? Otherwise I’ll take the bus, but I don’t know how often they run.”

“I collect you at one.”

Gary was as good as his word. He was taking a risk, but he kissed Cleo on the lips in greeting.

“I hope no one saw us,” said Cleo.

“Does it matter?”

“Not to me,” she replied.

Gary explained that there was no immediate need to speak to Gloria. The results of the tests on evidence collected in the dead woman’s flat were not yet available, but he needed Gloria’s fingerprints so that he could distinguish them from others in the woman’s flat. This was a diplomatic way of explaining that he wanted to know if Gloria had been poking around in the dead woman’s flat.

“Did Gloria turn up there?”

“Yes. Didn’t she tell you?”

“No, Gary. She prides herself on her sleuthing and it’s my fault for not discouraging her.”

“Can you discourage your mother, Cleo?

“I don’t suppose so. I’ve given up trying on other occasions.” “So you haven’t spoken to her since you left HQ yesterday, have you?”

“No. Tell me what she did, Gary.”

“You mother told a wild story to the forensic team who had not seen her enter because they were in a room with the door shut listening to the radio. “She told them that she’d been invited to coffee and then left in rather a hurry.”

“She really is the limit. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. If the case was not so serious I’d find her very amusing.”

“I don’t think Gloria is at all funny. She can be really awful.”

“Anyway, I followed her to her flat and asked her a few questions. She was cagey, as if she were hiding something.”

“Why didn’t she tell me about all that?”

“And she knew the woman’s name.”

“Really? She’s up to something.”

Cleo wanted to tell him that her mother definitely hadn’t known the woman’s name the day before, but thought better of it. Maybe Gloria had taken something from the woman’s  apartment and was onto something.

“Gary put Cleo’s anxiety into words. They would have to catch up with Gloria as soon as possible.

“Can you think of anything your mother would do and not tell you about it?”

“There’s a whole long list of stuff,” said Cleo.

***

It was hard luck for Cleo that Robert had also decided to collect Cleo from the library. They had a free afternoon and could spend it together. So he witnessed Cleo and the stranger exchanging a kiss and smiles, and followed Gary’s sleek red car as it wound its way through Middlethumpton to Gloria’s address. Robert waited for a moment, then climbed the stairs to Gloria’s flat and rang the bell.

Robert thought he could catch Cleo red-handed with some guy or other and using Gloria’s flat while she was out. Gary did not use a police car and did not wear a uniform, so how could Robert know who he was.

Cleo opened the door. Gary was taking a long look at Gloria’s living arrangements.

“What are you doing here, Robert?” Cleo asked, extremely surprised to see him.

“I followed you in that man’s car, Cleo.”

“You did?” said Gary, emerging from Gloria’s bedroom.

“Yes. Cleo was funny last night and now I know why.”

“For your information, I am Detective Inspector Gary Hurley and I brought Cleo here to try to ascertain where her mother is, Mr…”

“Jones. Did you? Do you always kiss women you hardly know?”

“Hardly know?” bluffed Gary.

“We always kiss before we start working together, Robert. It breaks the tension.”

“You have never kissed me like that,” said Robert, not anxious to be appeased.

“You have never kissed me like that,” said Cleo.

Gary decided to put Robert Jones to the test.

“If I told you I slept with Cleo and we had marvellous sex, would you believe me? Is that what you want to hear?”

Cleo could have sunk through the floor, but Robert reacted in the way Gary thought he would.

“Of course not, Mr Hurley. If you really did have sex with Cleo, you would hardly tell me about it.”

“So let’s get it all straightened out, shall we?” said Gary.

“Yes, please,” said Robert, chastened.

“We came here to find Gloria or clues as to where she had gone, Mr Jones. That’s all.”

“I didn’t know she was missing.”

“Neither did I, Robert,” said Cleo. “Gary told me and gave me a lift here. The kiss was a greeting. Gary is the cop who turned up at Milton’s. He’s a bit forward, I agree.”

“Am I?” said Gary and Cleo smiled. Gary did not know what tale Cleo had told Robert after the incident in Milton’s back yard. Somehow it all seemed to make sense to Robert.

“The forensic team needs fingerprints so they can tell if Gloria was snooping at the house across the road. That’s the home of the corpse I found, Robert,” Cleo explained.

“It’s a pure coincidence that Cleo is Mrs Hartley daughter, Mr Jones.”

“You don’t have children that way, Mr Hurley.”

“Even I know that, Mr Jones.”

Gloria was tidy, but her flat was in a chaotic state. It had obviously been ransacked. Every drawer, every cupboard, the wardrobe, even the airing cupboard had been turned out. All Gloria’s clothes were strewn on the floor. Dry goods from the store cupboard had been tipped out. There was no way of telling what the intruder had been looking for and no one present could judge if anything was missing or what had been the object of such a thorough search.

“You don’t suppose someone has caught up with her from the States, do you, Cleo?” said Robert.

“I shouldn’t think so. Apart from Jay, she had no connection to the underworld, and Jay’s dead.”

“So he is.”

“Who is Jay?” Gary asked.

“My later husband, Gary. Both my mother and I made errors of judgement on that topic. I don’t want my mother to be in any danger, even if she did make mischief between us. She’s being trying to make up for that fatal error of judgement ever since.”

“That sounds intriguing, Cleo.”

“I’ll tell you about it some time, Gary.”

“I did not know you were into private meetings, Cleo,” said Robert.

“If I want to tell Mr Hurley all about my marriage, I will,” said Cleo and Robert looked subdued.

“I’ll go across the road to talk to the forensic team,” said Gary. They seem to be taking their time.”

***

“We have a new problem,” Gary told Chris.

“Can you come across to Mrs Hartleys flat when you’ve finished here? I’d like you to identify the prints of the guy who ransacked the place.”

“I’ll come with you know, Gary. I don’t know how long I’ll be at this place.”

While Gary had been gone Robert and Cleo had not said a word to one another until Cleo said “I do believe you are jealous, Robert.”

“I was mistaken. Sorry,” said Robert.

“I’d rather you didn’t stalk me when I’m on a case.”

“I wasn’t stalking you.”

“So what were you doing at the library?”

“I was not at the library. I delivered steaks to Romano’s restaurant, if you must know.”

“Oh,” said Cleo. She knew that Romano was discreet, but Romano did not know that Robert was her partner. Gary must tell him before he talked out of turn with Robert.

Gary returned and introduced Chris to Cleo and Robert.

“I’ll take a hairbrush, Gary,” said Chris. “That will give us the DNA we need.”

“What so you think can have happened?” Cleo asked.

“I don’t think anything yet, Cleo. It’s just a precaution. We don’t know what your mother did at the flat before she was found there. I’m going to request a phone report while you’re still here. Maybe that will give us a lead. You said she phoned you yesterday morning?’

“Sure. She phoned from here to tell me about the dead woman, but did not go into detail and I was busy at the library and did not ask. Then we met up at HQ. What did you say the dead woman’s name was?’

“I didn’t. Sandra Rossi.”

“Sounds Italian:”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“Mafia?”

“I’m not making any assumptions. We don’t yet know how she died. At the moment I’m more worried about where your mother has gone than where Sandra Rossi came from. Does Mrs Hartley go anywhere else apart from the dance school?’

“Maybe she does, but she doesn’t tell me everything, Gary.”

Gary logged into the internet on his tablet. It did not take long to get an account of all phone calls to and from Gloria’s house phone and mobile during the last four weeks. Apart from calls to Cleo at home and at the library, Robert’s shop and the dancing school, there was nothing much to go on except for a number of miscellaneous phone calls made only the previous day.

“These calls were all made on her house phone last night, Cleo,” he said, showing her the list. “Do you recognize any of the numbers?”

Cleo looked at the list.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t. I have no idea why my mother would phone those numbers. Some of them are to the Continent.”

“I’ll find out more about them and contact you later if I may.”

“Whatever she has done, Gary, my mother has no criminal energy at all and she is incapable of hurting anyone deliberately. I’d give anything to know where she got those phone numbers.”

“So would I, Cleo. I think it would be a good idea for you to go home now. Your mother might want to reach you there.”

“She has a cell phone. She can reach me anywhere from anywhere.”

“Only if she can use it, Cleo. But don’t be alarmed. The battery could have run down. There are any number of reasons why someone does not get in touch.”

Cleo’s heart gave a lurch. Her mother’s absence was becoming sinister.

“Does that mean we can go now, Mr Hurley,” said Robert, who had been watching and listening and wondering. To his annoyance, Cleo stepped up to Gary, put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him again, full on the lips.

“I hope you don’t expect me to do that, too,” Robert said disapprovingly.

“It’s a sign of trust, Robert,” said Cleo, and Gary was amazed that she had the nerve to flaunt what she felt, but he was sure Robert would either not have understood or would turn a blind eye to the ‘special’ relationship he already had with Cleo.

Cleo was obliged to drive back to Upper Grumpsfield with Robert. They did not speak at all during the drive. Cleo had no idea what to do about her sudden and complete change of heart and Robert was completely out of his depth at the very idea that Cleo could turn away from him.

***

Meanwhile Gloria had not only made a decision to follow up the only phone call that had provided her with anything to go on the previous evening, but also put her plan into action. A woman had picked the phone up at the other end, but not given a name.

“Is that Rossi?” Gloria had asked, starting the dialogue she had invented for herself. “I’d like to speak to Sandra, please.”

“She’s out. Who are you, anyway?”

Since the response to her query was quite obviously a lie, Gloria felt no compunction about lying back.

“Theresa West. I have a letter here for Sandra Rossi.”

“Do you now!”

“I could send it on to her, but she only left me your phone number for emergencies.”

“Send it to 42 Winter Street, Birmingham.”

Gloria felt she had at last achieved something. Now she had a contact address, she would make her way there. She supposed the woman was a relative, but she had forgotten to ask her name. It was too late now. Another phone call might incite closer questioning and she could not very well report Sandra Rossi’s death over the phone.

Before Gary Hurley had tried to contact Gloria on Wednesday morning, she had already boarded a train to Birmingham and was mulling over how to announce the bad news to those she assumed were Sandra Rossi’s nearest and dearest.

The woman who came to the door at 42 Winter Street looked uncannily like the dead woman. Gloria was startled.

“But...”

“That’s right. We do look alike, Mrs West. But Sandra and I are only cousins.”

“I can’t believe it. You look like identical twins.”

“Cousins, Mrs West,” the woman emphasized. “Have you brought the letter? Why didn’t you post it? You’d better come in for a moment.”

Gloria had no letter, of course, but she fumbled in her handbag to bridge the unpleasant pause as she was led into an artificially lit back room. She was starting to feel afraid. Something was wrong with the situation. The woman looked up and down the street before closing the front door. Had she lied about her relationship with Sandra Rossi?

“The letter, please,” the woman repeated. She spoke with the same faint foreign accent as Sandra Rossi.

“I’m sorry, but there is no letter. It was an excuse to get into contact with someone who knows her and is, I can see now, a relative.”

“I don’t like being tricked, Mrs West.”

Gloria ignored the comment. She had to finish breaking her news. It was even more difficult than she had feared.

“You see, Sandra Rossi is.....dead.”

There was a long silence.

“Dead? How do you know?”

“I identified her at the police station.”

“Are you sure?”

“She was found dead in a fashion store, Miss Rossi”

The woman still showed no trace of emotion.

“Are you quite sure?” the woman repeated, and this time Gloria thought she could hear a sob in the voice.

“Of course I’m sure. I’d like to go now.”

“Not so fast, Mrs West. You could be in acute danger if you leave now.”

Gloria thought she was probably in enough danger as it was.

“I have to catch my train back.”

“To Middlethumpton?”

So the woman knew where she lived.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to miss that train, Mrs...err...Hartley.”

So the woman knew her real name. Gloria could feel little droplets of sweat running down her spine.

“You’ll have miss a few trains before we let can you go.”

“But I didn’t tell anyone I was coming. No one need know I was here. I won’t breathe a word, I promise.”

“We know you came here without telling anyone, Mrs Hartley, but we also know that you would be in danger if you left now. We only want to protect you.”

 “But you can’t keep me here against my will,” Gloria argued.

“Of course we can. This room has been a refuge for several interim visitors.”

“Do you mean prison!”

“That’s only a word, Mrs Hartley. I prefer to call it a safe location.”

“I wish to leave. I am an American citizen and I know my rights.”

“You may know them, but you cannot assert them here, Mrs Hartley. Just calm down! All you have to do is remain here while we conclude our business. Then it will be safe for you to go.”

“And how long will that take?”

“I don’t know exactly. A day or two. Through that door is a bathroom. The water is suitable for drinking. We’ll bring you food and fresh coffee regularly and there’s a pile of magazines you can read. There are some items of clothing in that cupboard over there. Oh, and a radio, so that you can hear all about the police searching for you. That will no doubt entertain you.”

“That will certainly not entertain me. I want to go now this minute.”

By now Gloria was almost screaming. A man of about thirty came in hurriedly.

“Need help?” he asked.

“Bring some coffee, Gregor. I think this lady needs some coffee.”

The words were said with such emphasis that Gloria deduced that there was a hidden message. Were they going to poison her? K.O. drops would be almost as horrific. Gloria would touch no food or drink from them. She would just drink the tap water. They could hardly manipulate that. Then it occurred to her that getting hysterical might be even more detrimental to her wellbeing than being held prisoner for a few days.

“OK. I can see I’m at a disadvantage. What do you want?”

“That’s more like it, Mrs Hartley. We don’t want anything. We are only going to protect you.”

“From what?”

“Yourself, mainly. You were foolish to come here.”

“But I only wanted to tell you in person about Sandra Rossi’s death.”

“The guy who stuck a hypodermic needle into Sandra’s neck might decide to do the same to you, Mrs Hartley. He doesn’t know that you know nothing.”

Gloria gasped.

“How do you know how she died? The police didn’t know.”

“It’s the customary way to dispose of someone who is in the way, Mrs Hartley.”

“For God’s sake, what’s going on here?”

“You don’t need to know that. It would be better for you if you didn’t.”

“I want to know.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

“‘Revenge, Mrs Hartley. That’s the name of the game.”

“Game?”

“We interfered in Sandra’s ex-boyfriend’s criminal activities, Mrs Hartley. He was exporting weapons illegally to countries, to politicians who use them against their own people. That’s all I can tell you.”

“Who is we?”

“I can’t tell you that. Just keep a low profile while we do our job. You’re safe here.”

Gloria thought keeping a low profile was the least of her problems right now. She was no longer even sure if she was being kept in or if someone else was being kept out.

The woman left the room. The man searched through Gloria’s handbag and removed her mobile phone, checked the bathroom with its high, barred window, closed its shutter so that the room could not be seen into from the outside, then followed the Rossi woman out, locking the door behind him. Gloria was left to her own devices.

***

Cleo waited for a phone-call from her mother for the rest of the day. As time went on, she became more and more certain that Gloria was in some kind of trouble. She baked bagels to take her mind of the horrors she was imagining. Robert spent hours digging the vegetable patch. It was high time to start planting and good action therapy. Neither of them felt like discussing Gloria or anything else for that matter.

There was no phone call from Gary and Cleo did not think it was a good idea for her to contact him. 

By next morning, after Cleo had spent a sleepless night speculating on what could have happened to her mother while Robert sawed down a forest of trees and woke unrefreshed because he only slept properly when Cleo did, they were both certain that Gloria had indeed gone missing.

Cleo got to the library very early and after briefing Clare on the likelihood of having to do some urgent investigating, she phoned Gary.

“You said you’d contact me,” Cleo reproached.

“We can’t talk now,” he said, stopping her in her tracks. “Can you come to my office?”

“Why?”

“Just a precaution,” said Gary. “Someone might be tapping your phone. This whole business stinks.”

“I’ll be over right away.”

Clare was sceptical. Phones don’t usually get tapped at public libraries, but she sympathized with Cleo. Of course, she wanted to get to the bottom of her mother’s disappearance.

“I’ll be fine here. I’ll organize Karl for the rest of the week and I’ll come in next week to train the new assistant.”

Cleo felt embarrassed that she had not even asked about Clare’s visit to the job centre the previous day.

“Next week?”

“There was a young woman waiting for an interview when I got there. On impulse I asked her if she was looking for a job with books and she said she was. Library work would suit her fine, she said. So we arranged that I would again tell them what kind of work we are offering and the girl would describe her application in exactly the same words so that it would get her an interview here. That way the job centre would be friendly and think they had found someone a job and we would not have to look any further.”

“Brilliant, Clare. And the ruse worked?”

Yes. Presumably an easy solution for those at the job centre.”

“What’s she like?”

“Nice. She has just finished university and is looking at her options. She spent a few months visiting relatives in Australia and is going to start a teaching job next September, so she’s at a loose end and hard up.”

“That sounds really great. Well done, Clare. That’s a weight off my mind.”

“So Helen will start next Monday and can stay until she starts teaching if necessary.”

“Did you tell her the pay isn’t good?”

“Oh yes, but I’m opting out completely for the time being, Cleo, so she’s can take my job and I’ll be the temp. I’m not sure if we’ll be staying here much longer. Karl still has his job in Austria – he’s only on a sabbatical here – so he’ll have to go back, and I don’t want my babies to grow up without a father. But I’ll wait until well after the birth, of course. Edith can’t wait to have new-borns in the house again, though we’ve no intention of living there for ever even if Karl decided to stay permanently. I tell her that getting her five to school age is already a superhuman achievement, but she lives the idea of two more to care for.”

I’m so sorry I’ve been distracted, Clare. I’m as thrilled as could be for you and Karl. We should have talked this through ages ago.”

“I didn’t know ages ago, Cleo. Twins are in the family, of course, but it’s still a huge surprise that it’s happening to me.”

What with one thing and another, she had hardly given Clare’s situation a thought. She knew from Clare’s hints that the babies were the happy result of that very first unexpected reunion of Clare and Karl on the night of the vicarage fire, but the dilemmas and developments in her own private life had left little room to speculate on anyone else’s.  Now she wondered if that first hour or two with Gary would have the same consequence.

She got on really well with Clare and liked Karl, who had struck up a friendship with Robert, based not least on Karl’s love of high quality charcuterie and Robert’s newly found love of Austrian cuisine, with special emphasis on sugary kaiserschmarrn. The men had even started to cook together, usually at the vicarage because the kitchen at Cleo’s cottage was too small. They had enjoyed frequent impromptu dinner parties with oodles of noodles for the boys and a cultural revolution for Edith, with the vicar tagging along relatively benignly.

Cleo had confided in Clare about her love affair. She was not going to find it easy to combine the sort of life she lived with Robert and her total change of heart. Cleo wondered if she should try to.