Coppers End by Stef Lyons

Author:Stef Lyons [Lyons, Stef]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stef Lyons Writer

When Smith brought in the tea, Cooke was so lost in thought that he jumped at the sound of the tin mug being placed in front of him.

“Well, constable. What do you think of it all?”

“Me, sir?”

“Yes, you. Do you see another constable with me in the room?” His voice was sharp. “ My apologies,” he said, softening his look and indicating that Smith should sit. “I should like your thoughts on this case. It would please me to hear what you think before we must venture up to the Manor House and tell them what we have found today. Which must be soon. They cannot be left waiting much longer.”

“No, sir. They can’t.”

“Well then, constable. And tell me what you are thinking.”

Smith took a seat with great care and stuttered. “W-well, sergeant. It seems fairly cut an’ dry to me. This man has been found with her possessions. An’ a knife with her blood on an’ these fingerprints. That’s all pretty incriminatin’ to me.”

“Yes, it is. All very incriminating.” So why doesn’t it sit well? “I have a few questions and ideas that I want you to consider with me while we drink this tea. Yes, this vagrant certainly appears to be what we are looking for. Tell me this, why did he stab her so many times? The maid had it right, you have to really hate someone to do that, surely? If it was a robbery and he needed to incapacitate her, why not stab her one or two times? Why all over her body in a frenzy? Did they have a connection we don’t know of? And why did he have that knife? It is ornate and incredibly sharp. Someone cared for that knife. Did he steal it? If so, where from? Were they sexually intimate? If so, why? Did he assault her too? And what about the barbiturates? Did she really use so much that she would be used to it? People said she was modern. Perhaps she was. I was lucky to meet her a few times. She always appeared sensible to me. Not a party girl at all.”

“But sergeant, you’ve said before that people can surprise you. That deep down we never know the real person. You’ve often told me you’re shocked at the private lives of people you’ve had to investigate. Especially when you were working in London all them years ago.”

“Yes… You have the right of it there. I suppose I didn’t really know her. Who would have done so?”

“Her brother?”

“Yes. True. Anyone else?”

“Her husband?”

“Hardly. Well, not that well anyway. It sounds like they were on friendly terms but didn’t have all that much to do with each other, if he is to be believed. Ah!” He stood up quickly. “The steward. He worked with her closely.”

“I asked abou’ him but he was in London when it all happened. Has been for ten days.”

“Has he not returned? His employer has been murdered.”

“I don’t think so, sir.”

“Well we must ask when we go up to the house later.

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