Coffin Knows the Answer (6 page)

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Authors: Gwendoline Butler

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He really thought that was the end of his paperwork for the time being so he slipped home to see to the animals. There was another packet waiting. He flinched from opening it but it had to be done.
Inside using a dog, and horse and a human female child
was one of the nastiest pieces of photographic pornography he had ever seen.
A slip of paper inside said: Do you want to join in, Stella?
He would like to have burnt it but being a policeman he was trained to keep the evidence so he put it in an envelope and sent it off to Dr James Carmichael (nicknamed Croggy) in the Dept of Practical Forensics who was making a careful study of all the pornographic material that had come in. He hoped to be able to draw some useful conclusions.
Coffin despatched the envelope, then came back to sit in his big chair by the window in his workroom to do something, anything. He did not expect to sleep but he was soon in a dream world.
In this dream world, which was not quite sleep, Stella and the mannequin walked together, hand in hand.
While Coffin sat and wished he could sleep and dream, Dr Carmichael was working on the previous material sent him from Coffin's office. It was odious stuff but he was used to working on it and found it was smoothed down by numerous cups of tea and coffee. Stronger drinks he allowed himself as evening came on.
He hummed a cheerful tune as he worked. He really quite liked what he was doing but he did not admit it too readily because the material was so noisome. He had come to a certain conclusion about its origins (for they were various) and was pleased with himself.
‘I shall tell the Chief Commander. I hope he will be pleased too. He ought to be. We make progress.'
‘His Nibs is in fine fettle today,' said the senior of his two assistants to his junior.
‘Perhaps he finds the stuff he's had to look at more amusing than he lets on.'
‘No,' said the senior assistant, who had a great respect for Dr Carmichael, although not admitting to it. ‘He's a very decent sort is old Carmichael. Laughing at those obscenities would not be his style at all. And he wouldn't like to see you laughing at them, and neither would I.'
‘Don't worry, you won't.'
Paul Masters, who kept a protective eye on his boss (which fortunately Coffin had not noticed or nothing would have alarmed him more) telephoned Dr Carmichael who was an old friend. ‘Hello, Croggy. How are things? That latest packet that I took the trouble to drop in straight off, anything of interest?'
Dr Carmichael was willing to chat. ‘Join me in a drink and we'll talk. I have got something to say.'
‘Where shall we meet?'
‘What about the Archery Shed, just behind Mimsie Marker's stall?' Mimsie's stall, where she sold newspapers and magazines and refreshments, was famous in the Second City. It was near the busy tube station in Spinnergate down whose escalator the Chief Commander could often be seen hurrying on his way to London meetings.
In spite of its name, the Archery Shed knew no archers with bows but was a smart and expensive drinking spot where you could get good wine and food. The chic world of the Second City had discovered it (prompted thereto by Mimsie Marker who was reputed to own a share) and it was always crowded.
‘I know where it is,' said Paul. ‘See you there.' He was early but Dr Carmichael was already there before him, seated by the window, drinking chilled white wine and eating a smoked salmon sandwich.
‘Looks expensive,' said Paul as he slid into a seat.
‘It is,' agreed Carmichael, ‘but good.' He raised his hand to the waiter. ‘I've ordered the same for you.'
‘You're paying?' But he knew his friend.
‘Of course not.' Dr Carmichael quaffed his wine. ‘I've done a lot of work on pretty odious stuff for your lot.' He nodded his head. ‘It's been interesting. I started off with no clear ideas of what was what. I never like to make up my mind in advance.'
Paul Masters nodded, this being all that was required of him.
‘I suppose I took it for granted at first that the pictures came from one source. My experience is that the pornographer enjoys his own products beyond anyone else's. I mean it's kind of personal to them. But by degrees, I realised that there was no unity in this collection. I've got a much clearer idea of what has been going on: the chap who was collecting them and sending them on was interested in distressing the Chief Commander and Miss Pinero rather
than giving himself pleasure. That's not usually the way of it.'
‘I already got the idea that he didn't care for the Chief Commander and Lady Coffin very much.'
‘All the same, it alters the picture.'
‘I'll tell the Chief Commander what you say. Not that his mind will be on it until he gets Stella safe home again. Of course, he's got these serial murders on his mind too.'
‘An obsessive paedophile and a serial killer, what a world,' said Dr Carmichael. ‘Could they be connected? Who is handling the killings?'
‘Superintendent Miller and Inspector Winnie Ardet. Phoebe Astley is handling the paedophile case … she took over when Joe Jones went out sick. She was working with Mercy Adams but Mercy is away too at the moment. But she'll be back.'
‘Two good teams. I've had to work on a couple of the bodies, and let me tell you, they were not a pleasant job. There is something about them that reminds me of the paedophile's activities … .' He stopped. ‘Same man doing both perhaps … Do you know, I think I've said something important …'
‘You might have done.' Paul knew that his friend never underestimated himself.
‘Tell the Chief Commander, will you?'
‘He might have thought of it for himself …Anyway, can I give you a lift home?
Paul Masters drove slowly through Spinnergate where the traffic was always heavy. He caught sight of a woman threading her way through the crowd on the opposite side of the road. He looked, then looked again.
‘Is that Stella Pinero?'
Both men watched a slim figure hurrying along.
‘I don't know,' said Dr Carmichael. ‘Shall I get out of the car and go after her?'
‘Yes, better had.'
They stopped the car, but by the time they were on the pavement, the woman had disappeared.
‘It may have been her,' said Paul, ‘but perhaps I'd better not say anything to the Chief.
Coffin fed the cat and dog once more, then sat back down in the big chair by the window in which he leaned back with closed eyes. He had not slept the night before because of thinking of Stella. Or that was what it felt like, but he thought he might have dreamt of her.
She had been gone for well over twenty-four hours now. He was constantly thinking of Stella. All the police teams were alerted to look for her, to report anything that was helpful. But there was nothing. Nothing.
Now he slept without realising it. When he opened his eyes there she was. Stella was standing, looking down at him.
‘Stella, darling Stella, is it really you?' He stood up and put his arms round her; she was shivering slightly so that he held her tighter. ‘What happened? Where were you?'
Stella took his hand, then sat down beside him. ‘I'm glad to be back. I wasn't sure if I would make it.'
‘Tell me everything. I'm so glad you're safe.'
‘As to where I was, I was in a park, most of the time … I think,' she added thoughtfully.
Coffin was silent for a moment, studying his wife's face. ‘I believe you, my love, but why and how?'
‘I got into a car you sent at Heathrow. Or I thought it was so. I was very tired and I'd had some champagne on the way home … only a glass or two, but I suppose it relaxed me. I went to sleep, just a doze … when I woke up - came round, it felt more like it- I didn't recognise the road … This isn't the way, I thought. I tapped the driver on the shoulder and told him it wasn't the way … then he turned round.'
Stella was silent. Then: ‘I didn't like his face … I hadn't seen it properly before. And he did something … I can't
remember exactly what it was now, but I didn't like it. But he slowed down so I opened the door to get out …then there was another man by this time.' She paused ‘If it was a man.'
She paused again. ‘Go on,' said Coffin.
‘I pushed him or her back and jumped out …'
‘I'm glad you did. And then?'
‘He fell on the kerb, I remember that, then I think he jumped up and hit me, hit my head …' She gave her husband a smile. ‘I'm vague about what happened next … I think I ran, I seem to remember running.'
There was a pause.
‘The next thing I remember is waking up in a hut in a park. I must have run there. ' She shook her head. ‘I must have dozed on and off for some time.' Most of the day it must have been really, but she was only just realising that fact. How odd. Was it shock or that champagne? Or the hard work she had done in Scotland? All acting together, perhaps.
‘You are going to see a doctor,' said Coffin firmly.
‘I'm never ill,' Stella could be firm too.' Actresses are never ill, they can't afford to be.'
‘No, I know that. But you had a blow to your head.'
‘My feet hurt a bit but not my head.'
‘Did you walk here?'
‘I did. Once I worked out the way home … the park where I hid … not sure now why I hid, but it seemed distinctly the right thing to do at the time.'
‘That was the blow on the head. You really must go to Dr Fielding … Or I will get him to come here.'
‘No, I am going to have a bath and change. My memory is coming back and I know I have a script I must look at.'
Coffin watched his wife with concern but also admiration. You couldn't beat Stella. ‘Would you be able to identify these two men?'
Stella considered. ‘Don't know. I hope so. If I get the chance.'
She disappeared up the winding staircase for her bath, taking the cat with her for company. As soon as she had gone, the Chief Commander telephoned Paul Masters with the news that Stella was back. Masters thought it more tactful not to say that he had seen Stella. Nor did he say, although he knew he must soon, what Dr Carmichael thought of the collection of pictures.
‘Thank God. What happened, what had she to say?'
‘She was taken deliberately. Just chance and a great mercy that she got away. She'll have to make a statement. Tell Phoebe Astley, will you please? And set up some security for Stella.'
‘Of course, I will.'
‘And it better be good: I think the current serial killer wanted her for one of his victims. We've got to remember there was that dummy … that was aimed at Stella somehow.'
Abruptly, Paul Masters said: ‘Dr Carmichael thinks the paedophile pictures are a put-together collection and he believes that they are also part of the murder investigation. The cases are connected.'
 
 
Later that evening, Superintendent Jack Miller and Inspector Winnie Ardet were having a coffee together. News got around and by this time, they had a pretty good idea of what had happened to Stella Pinero and were putting their own gloss on it.
‘We have to tell the Chief Commmander our suspicions,' Winnie swigged her drink. ‘Wonder what he'll make of it?'
‘That's what we are sitting here discussing.' said Miller. ‘He's a decent sort, he'll listen. Believe we've got it right, I think. Probably worked it out already. He's clever, you know.' He spoke with respect. ‘It's all one case.'
‘It deserves a place in the history of crime and murder,'
said Winnie Ardet, who had her academic side. ‘I might write it myself.'
‘We shall have to get an interview with Stella herself,' said Miller.
‘Sure. I've always found her easy to talk to, haven't you?'
‘How many murders have we had?'
‘More than I care to count,' said Winnie, although she had counted and had set up the Incident room with many desks, one for every dead woman and another called Idea and Extras.
Amy Buckley
Mary Rice
Phillida Jessup
Angela Dover
The body in Pepper Alley as yet nameless.
And Stella Pinero could have been one more.
‘It's quite a list,' Miller said. ‘Makes it a horrible case, I think it's going to turn into the case of the century.'
‘Right, then let's ask for an appointment with the Chief Commander and tell him what we think.'
Miller finished his drink. ‘I've already done it. I fixed it up with Paul Masters … He understood and we have an appointment tomorrow. He knew the Chief Commander would want to see us.'
 
 
Although Coffin and Stella were tired when she got back, sleep and peace would not come easily. ‘I'm going into the theatre tomorrow,' Stella was emphatic.
‘I knew you would do.'
‘There is something I want to show you now though.'
She produced from a pocket a pornographic photograph of a child.
‘This was stuck in the back of my trousers when I got of the car. I don't know how it got there.' She looked at her husband. ‘It must be all one case.'
After a pause, Coffin said, half to himself: ‘I shall want to see everyone.'

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