Scold's Bridle

even noticed. But she did, of course, because she mentioned the fifty-pound theft to Jack Blakeney and, when I tackled her bank this morning, they told me she had queried the five-hundred-pound withdrawal on her statement, and they advised her that Ruth had drawn it out on her instructions.' He scratched his jaw. 'According to them, she agreed that it was her mistake and took no further action.'

'What date was that?'

Cooper consulted his notes again. 'The cheque was cashed during the last week in October, Ruth's half-term in other words, and Mrs. Gillespie rang the bank as soon as she got the statement, which was the first week in November.'

'Not long before she died then, and after she'd made up her mind to change the will. It's a bugger that one. I can't get the hang of it at all.' He thought for a moment. 'When did Ruth steal the fifty pounds?'

'At the beginning of September before she went back to school. She had some idea apparently of buying Hughes off. She said: 'I thought he'd leave me alone if I gave him some money.' '

'Dear God!' said Charlie dismally. 'There's one born every minute. Did you ask her if Hughes put pressure on her to cash the five hundred at half-term?'

'I did. Her answer was: 'No, no, no. I stole it because I wanted to,' and then she turned the waterworks on again.' He looked very rueful. 'I've left the ball in Dr. Blakeney's court. I had a word with her on the phone this morning, gave her the gist of what Hughes has been up to and asked her to try and find out why none of the girls will turn QE against him. She may get somewhere but I'm not counting on it.'

'What about the mother? Would Ruth talk to her?'

Cooper shook his head. 'First, you'd have to get her to talk to Ruth. It's unnatural, if you ask me. I stopped off last night to tell her the Blakeneys had taken her daughter in and she looked at me as if I'd just climbed out of a sewer. The only thing she was interested in was whether I thought Ruth's expulsion meant she'd killed her grandmother. I said, no, that as far as I knew there were no statistics linking truancy and promiscuous sex to murder, but there were a great number linking them to poor parenting. So she told me to eff off.' He chuckled happily at the memory.

Charlie Jones grunted his amusement. 'I'm more interested in friend Hughes at the moment, so let's break this down into manageable proportions. Have Bournemouth tried getting the three families together so that the girls gain strength from numbers?'

'Twice. No go either time. The parents have taken legal advice and no one's talking.'

Charlie pursed his lips in thought. 'It's been done before, you know. George Joseph Smith did it a hundred years ago. Wrote glowing references for pretty servant girls, then found them placements in wealthy households. Within weeks of starting work they would steal valuables from their employers and take them faithfully to George to convert into ready cash. He was another one with an extraordinary pulling-power over women.'

'George Smith?' said Cooper in surprise. 'I thought he did away with women. Wasn't he the brides-in-the-bath murderer?'

'That's him. Started drowning wives when he discovered how easy it was to get them to make wills in his favour upon marriage. Interesting, isn't it, in view of the way Mrs. Gillespie died.' He was silent for a moment. 'I read a book about Smith not so long ago. The author described him as a professional and a literal lady-killer. I wonder if the same thing applies to Hughes.' He rapped a tattoo on his desk-top with his knuckles. 'Let's pull him in for questioning.'

'How? Do I take an arrest warrant?'

Charlie reached for his phone. 'No. I'll get Bournemouth to pick him up tomorrow morning and hold him on ice till you and I get there.'

'Tomorrow's Sunday, Charlie.'

'Then with any luck he'll have a hangover. I want to see his expression when I tell him we have reason to believe he murdered Mrs. Gillespie.'

Cooper was sceptical. 'Have we? The landlord's statement won't stand close scrutiny, not if his wife's claiming he was confused.'

A wolfish grin spread across the Inspector's features, and the sad Pekinese became a Dobermann. 'But we know he was there that afternoon because Ruth told us he was, and I'm inclined to be a little creative with the rest. He was using Mrs. Gillespie's granddaughter to extort money. He has a history of ruthless exploitation of women, and he's probably feeding a habit because his outgoings far exceed his income. If they didn't, he wouldn't have to live in squats. I'd say his psychological profile runs something like this: a dangerously unstable, psychopathic addict, whose hatred of women has undergone a dramatic change recently and taken him from their brutal manipulation to their destruction. He will be the product of a broken home and inadequate education, and boyhood fear of his father will govern most of his actions.'

Cooper looked even more sceptical. 'You've been reading too many books, Charlie.'

Jones allowed himself a laugh. 'But Hughes doesn't know that, does he? So let's try and dent his charisma a little and see if we can't stop him using other people's little girls to do his dirty work.'

'I'm trying to solve a murder,' said Cooper in protest. 'That's what I want answers on.'

'But you've still to convince me it was a murder, old son.'

Ruth crept stealthily down the stairs and stood to one side of the studio doorway, watching Jack's reflection in her tiny hand mirror. Not that she could see him very well. He was sitting with his back to the window, working on a portrait but, because the easel was placed directly between him and the door, the canvas obscured all but his legs. From the bedroom window she had watched Sarah leave the house two hours ago, so she knew they were alone. Would Jack notice when she slipped past the doorway? She waited for ten minutes in panicky indecision, too afraid to take a step.

'If you want something to eat,' he murmured finally into the silence, 'then I suggest you try the kitchen. If you want someone to talk to, then I suggest you come in here, and if you're looking for something to steal, then I suggest you take Sarah's engagement ring which belonged to my grandmother and was valued at two thousand pounds four years ago. You'll find it in the left-hand drawer of her dressing-table.' He leaned to one side so that she could see his face in her mirror. 'You might as well show yourself. I'm not going to eat you.' He nodded curtly as she came round the doorjamb. 'Sarah gave me strict instructions to be sympathetic, patient and helpful. I'll do my best, but I warn you in advance I can't stand people who sniff into handkerchiefs and creep about on tiptoe.'