//[[index|Index to pages]]// ======Thornton Under Vale Mystery – Part 9====== // [[:cwc:thornton-under-vale-mystery-part-1-v2|(Read from start)]] // //{{:cwc:fnbearpaw-little-bear-set_1-300x300-1.png?300x300}} // The ultra-modern corner office of Chief Constable Swallow felt hot and clammy like a tropical greenhouse, while outside the gentle flakes of snow gently settled on the Police cars below. The distinct aroma of citrus arose from the large smoked glass and chrome desk. Everything in the room was so tidy. It looked like a photograph out of an Interior Design magazine. Only the presence of people messed up the symmetry. Acting DC Sidney Web sat there, uncomfortably, in the minimalist black leather chair, feeling nauseous and trapped in a glass box. He watched his boss, DS Hawk, pacing back and forth across the office, wearing a path in the thick white carpet. Hawk was red-faced with anger. He and Web had not spoken to each other since arriving at the Police HQ, except for the very few words at the reception desk where he had vehemently spat out, “I expect me being summoned here is your doing.” Sidney had tried to explain that he had also been summoned by Swallow, but didn’t know why, and he hadn’t intended for their professional relationship to be so fraught. But it all fell on deaf ears. DS Hawk had been basking in media glory with the dramatic re-arrest of Ivana Cock and the recent arrest of her secret Russian lover, the Chef at the “The Bull” in the village of Thornton Du Bois. The young, handsome, Russian had no alibi for the time of Robin Cock’s unusual murder or for the murder of Edwina Fly, now a known blackmailer. DS Hawk had even found the Russian poison, ‘Zveroboy’, used in the death of Robin Cock, in Ivana Cock’s kitchen. Even better was the discovery that Ivan the Chef, had been in convicted of fraud and had spent some time in a Russian prison. For DS Hawk, with that evidence, it bothered him very little that neither suspect could use a longbow accurately or that both claimed they were innocent. They were illicit lovers; Robin Cook, obviously, had been deviously enticed out to The Vale in the wood; Edwina Fly had seen the murder take place; and she had been murdered to stop her saying anything. Case closed. Sidney Web did not agree. Although he had an answer for the rope around Robin Cock’s neck, it did not explain the Robin’s head injury with the lead candlestick; nor the arrow. And why would Ivana Cock agree to frame her own son with the suspicious Last Will and Testament found with Robin Cook’s body? And why were Ivana Cock and Dolly Dove celebrating? And who had actually fired the arrows? There were far too many loose ends. The tension within the room heightened as Chief Constable Swallow’s dark navy uniform, brass buttons, and gold braid strode into the chrome and mirror glassed office. The Chief Constable slammed the door, dropped a thick brown file onto the desk (messing up the symmetry completely) and angrily waved a tabloid newspaper under their noses. Web immediately stood up and to attention, as though he was back in school in his Headmaster’s office expecting to be told-off again. His movement was noticed. “Ah… Web. You’re here too. Good.” Swallow muttered, sitting down behind the desk. Damian Hawk moved towards the desk, and snapped, “Why am I….?” Swallow roared back, “Hawk. What the hell is going on!? And stand to attention, man. I want an explanation for this.” The Newspaper was thrown violently onto the desk. “Exclusive interview? You’ve just screwed up our whole case, you blithering idiot!” He spun to face Sidney, “Did you know about this, Web?” Sidney suddenly felt relieved that he and Damian were no longer working together. “No, Sir. This case is still in it’s infancy.” Looking at Hawk’s vivid red face, he added, “In my opinion, Sir.” Hawk sputtered, “You wanted a Russian. I got you a Russian. And he’s a known villain…” He added, as a reluctant sign of respect, “Sir”. Swallow looked at the file, turned over a few pages, and slowly looked up. His eyes narrowed, and glinted, like a sewer rat. “Who told you that, Hawk?” Hawk shuffled uncomfortably, “Sources, Sir.” “I asked you who, Sergeant Hawk.” His voice was menacingly quiet. “And don’t lie…” DS Hawk shuffled more, looked to the office door, back at the Chief Constable behind his large glass and chrome desk, and muttered, “I picked it up from ACC Viper. He was talking about the Bull’s Chef at the Wake. I had been awaiting confirmation, but the Press…. well, you know what they are like… and Viper said… “ Swallow screamed, “You were bloody played, Hawk! Played!! And if you had even bothered to check, you would have discovered your precious Chef is bloody Ukrainian royalty! Bloody Count Ivanovich Romanoff Reznkikov! Certainly NO friend of Vladimir Putin. The boy’s a political refugee. He’s been being watched over by a retired MI6 operative. And guess who that is?” Hawk shrugged, and muttered to his shoes, “Maybe Mrs Ivana Cock?” The Chief Constable shouted back, “Yes. The widow you just arrested…again! Christ, Hawk, can’t you do anything right! As of right now, you’re off the case.” Hawk looked up, defiantly, “She had motive; opportunity; and I found the poison – ‘Zveroboy’ – the Russian poison. Where did she get that in Thornton Under Vale? And he’s no chef. He’s crap.” Swallow turned over a page in the open file, and replied icily, “Bad cooking is not a crime, Hawk. It should be, but it isn’t. If you had bothered to work with Acting Detective Constable Web you would know all about your bloody poison. Tell him, Web.” Sidney felt very uncomfortable, as though he was betraying a colleague. Deliberately avoiding looking at his ex-boss, he replied, “The poison was made from Hypericum perforatum, Sir. Although known as ‘Zveroboy’ in Russia, it’s better known locally as Perforate St John’s Wort. The same that was growing in Edwina Fly’s herb garden. Miss Fly made natural herbal remedies for the villagers’ problems. When I called her an old witch, maybe I should have called her by her proper status, the Village Wise Woman. I still haven’t been able to decipher her accounts book, but I feel the code was used to protect those who used her services. I understand that Robin Cock had gone to her to address his depression, neurosis, and insomnia. He didn’t want the everyone else in the village to know, and Miss Fly was known to be discreet. I suspect he took too much St John’s Wort tea in one go, when his stress started to cause stomach ulcers. So, poison, yes, but self-administered.” Hawk snapped back, “What the Hell had Cock to be stressed about? He was wealthy; well connected; the perfect Village Squire. He could do what he wanted. And did.” Sidney recognised the anger in Damien Hawk’s voice, which he suspected was driven by the legal injustice suffered by the barmaid Dolly Dove. The late Robin Cock appeared to have gotten away with rape, but unbeknown to Hawk, there were consequences which Sidney had discovered and reported. DS Hawk had ignored everything Sidney had written. But that was Hawk’s decision, not his. The Chief Constable said coldly, “It’s all here in Web’s well-written report. The fact that Miss Dove’s rape case didn’t go to trial didn’t matter to Ivana Cock. She cut off her husband’s access to money from the Anbull Estate once she heard about his abuse of the barmaid. As a result, the late Robin Cock had been in serious financial difficulties. He had been building up very large debts to keep up his apparent lifestyle, in order to avoid worrying his wealthy clients. “Nevertheless, there are clients”, he said pointing at Web’s report, “who have heard about Lady Byrd’s being cheated out of the true value of her Romanov Dinner set. Web thinks they may have been led to question whether they too had been cheated by him. “And, it looks like the garage boys in Thornton Du Bois had been making fake copies of Cock’s candlesticks and other Romanov silverware, and those wealthy, well-connected, clients found out. “We already know that Cock was trying to silence the church bells, and, according to this report, his ulterior motive was to get back at the garage boy bell-ringers for refusing him credit. They have admitted that as a result of their anger over this, they did try to lynch Cock with spare bell rope from the Church of St Genesius, but he escaped into the woods with the remaining noose around his neck. They gave up looking for him and returned to their Darts practice. However, apparently, Web does not know who shot Robin Cock with a longbow arrow… yet.” Hawk looked puzzled, “So how did he get thumped on the head? And who was he meeting?” Chief Constable Swallow closed the file, “Good questions. I’m glad to see you are thinking again. But those questions will be solved by Detective Constable Web. Not you, Hawk. You’ve ballsed up too often. I’m telling you this with Web still here, so that you don’t go spreading rumours of being stitched up, like you did before. I have the options of dismissal or retirement due to mental stress. How you act will determine which one I choose.” He handed the thick brown file to Sidney, and thinly smiled, “Carry on, DC Web.” He turned towards Damian Hawk, his face transformed instantly to anger. “Hawk….. go home. You’re suspended.” Habit caused Sidney to open the office door for his ex-boss, DS Hawk, but realised too late from Damian’s chill whisper, “This is not over, Web.”, that Damian suspected collusion in his demise. Sidney wanted to rush after Damian and explain that was not remotely true, but as he stood holding the office door open, he heard Swallow say loudly, “Ah…. Detective Constable Web. Wait a moment, and tell me about this reported assault on Lady Byrd at the Wake. Close the door.” Sidney felt nauseous. Had Chief Constable Swallow deliberately engineered the whole office scene, just to humiliate a colleague? Office politics at it’s worst. He felt he would never have the opportunity to correct the impression within the Police Station that he wasn’t a back-stabbing, ambitious, bastard. He would have to very careful. ‘Accidents’ were becoming too common. He closed the door as Swallow calmly added, “Please, take a seat, Web.” Sidney felt very mixed emotions. Elated that he had been promoted, and would not be working with DS Hawk again, but distressed that he had had to witness Hawk’s humiliation. Chief Constable Swallow really was a crap manager. He knew it was possible that if he messed up this case, his promotion would be short-lived. He replied, “I prefer to stand, Sir.” Swallow replied casually, “As you wish.” He opened the file on his desk again, “What actually happened, Web?” Sidney was struck by the Chief Constable’s body language. The man appeared oblivious to the situation he had created. Maybe the recent scene wasn’t a complex manipulation to humiliate after all. It was simply lousy personnel management. Swallow was just a vain, stupid man, promoted to the point of incompetence. The classic British management structure. Web relaxed, “Lady Byrd was very drunk, Sir. She went into the kitchen to challenge Adrian Cock over the planned auction, and rather defamed his father. It got somewhat heated. He slapped her face, and she fell backwards hitting a kitchen table. Hence, lots of blood and her operatic scream. Plenty of witnesses, who all say she attempted to hit Adrian first, but was too drunk and missed. A storm in a china tea cup, Sir. I’ve suggested to Adrian Cock he could counter sue, if she proceeds with an assault claim.” Swallow nodded, “Next time, Web, leave the legal advice to the lawyers. So the old girl got slapped, “ Swallow started to grin, “She deserved that just for her dreadful singing in St Genesius.” // [[:cwc:thornton-under-vale-mystery-part-10|Now Read Part 10]]  // //(Prompts Given: In its infancy…; He hadn’t intended…; It bothered him very little …; Everyone else in the village…; He knew it was possible….; He would never have the opportunity…. )//   ---- Authored by: Mark Baker; Last updated: 2021-07-18T15:25:10(UTC)