'Fair enough,' smiled Frost. 'Bank up the fire and get your hat and coat. We can continue this down at the station. It's not very private there, I'm afraid, but if you're not ashamed of what you've been up to, then what the hell…'
She said nothing, but the defiant look withered.
Frost took a folder from Burton and flipped it open. 'On 5th August you telephoned your personal friend, Mr. Mullett, to report a burglary. A man posing as a Water Board engineer gained entrance to your house and after he had left you discovered valuables missing from your bedroom. Within twenty minutes of your phone call you received a visit from Detective Sergeant Hanlon. You gave him a list of stolen items brooches, pearl necklace, gold powder compact, silver bangle… total value nearly 2000.'
He tugged out the list. 'This is what you said were stolen.' He held it in front of her. She stared straight ahead as if it wasn't there.
'Your very good friend, Mr. Mullett, then called me in and ordered me to pull out all stops to apprehend the criminal. But the very next day you phoned, and subsequently signed a statement… this statement,' another sheet of paper was waved in front of her, 'which states that it was all a mistake and nothing was taken… you had misplaced the articles and had then found them in another drawer. Mr. Mullett then instructed me to take no further action and I immediately complied.' He replaced the papers in the folder. 'My fault. I don't look for work, but I should have followed it up. I should have asked to see the items you now claim to have found.' He beamed at her. 'If I asked nicely, could you show them to me now?'
She stared at him, then lowered her gaze to the floor. 'No.'
'The stuff was stolen?'
'Yes.'
'So what happened to make you tell us it wasn't?'
She stood up and went over to a small coffee table where she took a cigarette from a black and gold lacquered box, lighting it with an onyx cigarette lighter. Before she turned round, Frost had lit up one of his own. 'That night I received a telephone call. A man. He read me a part of that letter and described the photograph. He said he was thinking of sending them to the press, but wondered if I would like to buy them back.' She dragged deeply at the cigarette. 'I asked how much. He wanted 500 in used notes. I said I would pay.' She crushed the barely smoked cigarette out.
'And…?' prompted Frost.
'He said there was a litter bin next to the bus stop in Stacey Street. I was to hide the envelope containing the money between the bin and the wall. If I returned there the next day, in its place would be the letter and photograph.'
'And?'
'I did what he said. I left the money. But when I returned the next day, the money was still there. It hadn't been picked up… The following day the same. So I retrieved the money and waited for him to phone again. I never heard another word from him.'
'And what did you do with the money?'
'I paid it back into my bank account.'
'Do you have copies of your bank statement?'
She glared and went over to an oak-veneered bureau where she took some papers from the top drawer. These she handed to Frost who passed them to Burton.
'Do you think I am a liar, inspector?' she asked, icily.
'People do lie to us,' said Frost. 'They tell us robberies haven't taken place when they have.' He looked across to Burton, who nodded. The payments in and out were recorded exactly as she said.
He showed her Lemmy's mug shot. 'Was this the man who robbed you?'
She studied it carefully. 'I think so… I can't be sure. I didn't pay a lot of attention to him at the time… one doesn't when it's workmen.'
'And the last time you saw him was when he left your house on…' He consulted the file. '5th August, the day you reported the robbery, and the day before you then reported it never took place?'
'Yes.'
'We think he might have come back here… the next day,' said Frost. 'We think he demanded money and threatened to send the photograph and the letter to the press if you didn't pay.'
'I've already told you what happened.'
'But are you telling me the truth?'
'I'm not used to having my word questioned and I'm not going to say another word unless you have the common courtesy to tell me what this is all about,' she snapped.
Frost smiled his reasonable smile. 'Of course. The man I asked you to identify is Lemmy Hoxton, a known criminal. We found your letter and the photo with other stolen goods, hidden in his house. We also found some jewellery that might be yours were it not for the fact that you had told us it hadn't been stolen.'
'My reason for silence no longer applies, inspector. Yes, I was robbed, as I have admitted.'
'What I didn't tell you,' said Frost, as if suddenly remembering something not too important, 'was the reason we went to Lemmy's house in the first place. Would you like to know why?'
'Not particularly, but I imagine you are going to tell me anyway.'
Frost took a long drag at his cigarette. 'It was because we had found his decomposing body feeding the maggots in someone's back yard. Someone perhaps to avoid being blackmailed had murdered him.'
She stared at him, open-mouthed, the colour seeping from her face. 'Murdered? You surely don't think that I…?'
'Why not?' asked Frost. 'If I was in your position I would cheerfully have murdered the bastard, especially if I thought I could get away with it.'
She picked up the poker and began be labouring the coals on the fire as if it was Frost's skull she was smashing. 'I've told you what happened. I've nothing more to say. You have property of mine. I'd like it back.'
'All in good time, Mrs. Roberts.' He studied her through narrowed eyes. A hefty woman, as strong as an ox. One blow from that poker would certainly make Lemmy's eyes water and she wouldn't have too much difficulty humping the body out to her car. But it might not have been so easy to carry Lemmy from her car to the coal bunker on her own. She might have needed help. Then what about her bottom-smacking chum in the mortar-board?
'I'd like you to give me the name and address of your gentleman friend in the photograph.'
'No!' She was firm on this. 'I'm not having him involved.'
Frost considered insisting, but decided against it. He thought about getting Forensic in to give the place a going over, but decided against that also. Too much time had gone by and, in any case, she wasn't denying that Lemmy had been here. Forensic had plenty of better things to do so he decided just to let her sweat for a while.
'What size television set have you got, Mrs. Roberts?'
'Television set?' She stared at him as if he was mad. 'I haven't got a television set. I wouldn't have one in the house.'
'Then you won't mind if my colleague takes a look.' Frost nodded to Burton, who left the room. He stood up. 'I'll want you to go down to the station some time today and give us a full statement about the robbery and the blackmail attempt.'
She coloured a deep crimson and pulverized another piece of coal with the poker. 'A statement? Is that really necessary?'
'You needn't be specific some of our young officers are easily shocked. You can just refer to a letter and certain activities it mentions you would prefer were not made public'
Burton returned, shaking his head. No TV set of any size in the house. They showed themselves out; leaving her looking decidedly uneasy.
At the station Mullett was flapping about in a state of high agitation awaiting their return. He grabbed Frost and hustled him into his office. 'Well?'
'She could be involved,' said Frost. 'But I haven't got any hard evidence, yet.' He filled Mullett in on the details.
'There were other compromising letters and photographs have you checked to see if those people were being blackmailed by Hoxton?'
