Episode 6 - Soup

Thursday, October 4

It was the link Dorothy eventually made between the tramp’s poisoning and the lethal soup that made it all so awful. She and Cleo had definitely been in danger. Chris’s newest report was credible. Even if only small amounts of toadstool poisoning were consumed, it would cause severe illness and possibly death. Who could have done such a thing deliberately?

***

On Thursday morning Gary was as usual getting the day started at the cottage by making breakfast for PeggySue, Charlie, Lottie and himself when the phone rang.

“Chris. We’re having breakfast. Is it urgent?”

“Whoever poisoned that old tramp may have poisoned a dozen Finch Nightingales, Gary. Isn’t that urgent enough?”

“What? Do you mean that Dorothy has hit the nail on the head again?”

“Middlethumpton General called me very early this morning. They thought it might be a tropical outbreak. Some of the women are in intensive care, Gary, and some of them are even on the death list.”

“Who would do such a thing?”

“I’m asking you that,” said Chris. “I’m only a humble scientist.”

“But you are suspicious.”

“Food poisoning is no joke, Gary, and after that business with the tramp…”

“OK. I know that choir can’t sing for toffee, but why kill them off? There are other ways of avoiding listening to their caterwauling, such as not going anywhere near them.”

“I have to know exactly what happened to those women, Gary. I’m a scientist. I avoid speculation.”

“You have my blessing.”

“The women had apparently sampled the soup during the rehearsal interval,” said Chris. “In view of the amatoxins in Bates’s blood, I’ve ordered blood samples from all the women. You don’t suppose the same poisoner has struck more than once, do you?”

“I don’t suppose anything,” said Gary. “I can’t think of a single thing that would connect a tramp and a ladies’ choir, Chris. Keep me posted, for heaven’s sake!”

“That’s what I’m doing now.”

“And quite apart from tussles with toadstools, prepare yourself for another search of the Fargo villa and garden,” said Gary.

“What are we going to look for now?”

“Human remains. I’ll call you later from the office about that.”

***

If the issue of Dr Fargo’s disappearance had not been high on the list of priorities, Gary might have been inclined to wait a day or two before searching the villa.

If the issue of Toby Bates’ poisoning had not required urgent attention, the very idea that the soup served by Jane as a light refreshment on a cool autumn evening was contaminated with the same poison might never have occurred to anyone.

***

Wednesday had become the most dramatic in the history of the Finch Nightingales. since the murder of their director. Lisa Keys only heard about the dysentery outbreak through an anonymous phone-call. She thought immediately of the thick mushroom soup that others had guzzled, but she had avoided because of the calories. She had had a lucky escape, the anonymous caller had told her. She thought the dysentery must surely have been caused by even small amounts of Jane’s terrible cooking, unless the soup had been poisoned deliberately by someone else, perish the thought.

***

On Thursday morning, Cleo had to abandon her few quiet minutes under her duvet. All the babies were demanding instant attention. Without the two Charlottes, things would soon have been a logistic catastrophe, since Gary was now chewing over what Chris had told him and fully occupied with PeggySue. Fortunately, Grit would come in time to take the little girl to the nursery even after being out at the Oxford jazz club until the early hours.

Cleo remembered that the new au pair was arriving that day. Gary would make time to meet her. Would having an au pair make more problems than it solved?

***

“Did I hear you say ‘human remains’, Gary?” Cleo asked as she appeared at the breakfast table with the smallest twins, one on each arm.

“Speculation really, but Dr Fargo has to be found, dead or alive.”

“So you are not quite at odds with the agency theory?” said Cleo.

“Not quite, and I can’t risk ignoring it, can I?”

“No,” said Cleo. “Talking about theories, Dorothy hit the spot last night with her ideas about amatoxin, too. Let’s hope the idea doesn’t catch on.”

“I think I’d rather have a shoot-out. There’s something very underhand about amatoxin,” said Gary.

“Dorothy had only heard a rumour, Gary. She may not have believed what she was saying. Gossip from the hospital canteen has to be taken with a pinch of salt.”

“Who phoned her?” Gary asked. “What did she find out?”

“She didn’t tell me so she probably doesn’t know and tracing an informer can lead to not being informed again.

“But nebulous information doesn’t help either, “ said Gary.

“Informers leave their informees to work out what’s worth knowing,” said Cleo.

“The problem is that any hint of ill-doing sets off Dorothy’s imagination. She has wandered down enough dark corridors of her mind to fill a library.”

Cleo had put the tiny twins into the playpen, where they gurgles and blew bubbles happily. Tommy and Teddy would join then.  When Cleo presently returned from the kiddies’ room, she had one lively toddler bundled under each arm for speed.

“Let me help with your infants!” said Gary, toadstools forgotten for a moment.

“Your infants too, Sweetheart.”

“I’m wondering who could have poisoned those Finch Nightingales.”

“That was waiting to happen if anything was,” said Cleo.

“I know they can’t sing, but is that a reason to kill them?”

“Someone obviously thought so, unless it was accidental or a dangerous prank,” said Cleo. “I’d prefer to think it was. Jane Barker does the chorus refreshments and according to Dorothy she turns up every week with home cooking. If the soup on Tuesday was anything to go by, I can’t imagine why the late Mr Barker raved about it.”

“Could that be what killed him?” Gary said. “If so, we’ll have to bother Chris with more human remains.”

“I thought Mr Barker died a natural death, Gary.”

“There’s a difference between a natural death and the death certificate saying that. Was he cremated?”

“I doubt it. Widows like to have somewhere to go and shed tears. The cemetery is a good place for that.”

“Not personal experience, I hope.”

“I don’t know if Jay really is dead. If he is, I’d be unlikely to shed a tear,” said Cleo. . “And Robert is alive and kicking. You aren’t suggesting that Jane Barker is a killer, are you?”

“They are under us, Cleo. You said so yourself. Anyone can kill, given motive and opportunity.”

“And toadstools, presumably.”

“Dorothy made that sound like a reasonable explanation. According to what Chris has now reported, you have had a narrow escape.”

“The soup was not tempting. Dorothy said it smelt funny.”

“So Dorothy does not just smell rats,” said Gary, handing one of the now very lively twins back to Cleo.

“First we need a genuine motive if it wasn’t a cruel hoax,” said Cleo. “I’ll phone Dorothy. She’ll have constructive ideas. Jane is unlikely to have a motive to kill off the new lease of life she found by joining the chorus.”

“Don’t rely on motives. It might work with one rich benefactor, but surely not with a whole pack of women!”

“You said it! If it wasn’t Jane, who put the poison in the soup?” said Cleo.

“I don’t usually go along with second opinions before I’ve formed the first, but Dorothy probably knows plenty about her neighbours!” said Gary. “We could rule out Jane and start a serious search for the reason that chorus was attacked in such a subtle way.”

***

Charlie and Lottie were going to school for hockey training although it was half term. They practiced three times a week all the year round. It kept things going, especially Miss Plimsoll, who had been teaching sport for decades and unfortunately hung on to her youthful enthusiasm, which was becoming an increasing pain to all who had anything to do with her on or off the hockey pitch. On the other hand, attending the practice was useful, since school reports invariably contained praise for attending things voluntarily and if you weren’t away on holiday, school-free days could become very boring.

Gary offered to take the girls to school in the people-carrier (Charlies name for it) so that Cleo could use the red car if she needed it.

“We’ll take the bus,” the girls had told him. “It’s too early anyway. WE can take over the babies for a while,” said Charlie. You don’t seem to be in control,” she told her father.

Charlie and Lottie ran around with the little boys for a while before putting then in they high chairs for breakfast.

“That’s how you cope, Daddy,” she said.

“Women!” said Gary.

***

Dorothy thought it would be nice to try some of her freshly baked bread, so she was in Cleo’s kitchen slicing warm currant loaf for everyone within a few minutes of Cleo’s phone-call.

“Have you seen Jane Barker lately, Dorothy?” Cleo asked.

“Only yesterday morning, but I used to see her more often in the old days when she came out into the garden to scream at Mr Barker. She can’t have had time to try the soup, can she?””

“Could Jane Barker have killed Jim?” Cleo asked.

“Never,” said Dorothy. “Who would she have left to scream at?”

The two sleuths carried coffee and a plate of currant loaf wedges into the living room and sat at the table to enjoy the feast. The girls fed the little boys with wedges before grabbing some themselves.

“Correction. Ladies!” said Gary.

“I don’t think Jane liked him very much. She was always upset about all the things he got up to as a bored pensioner, but I’m sure she would not have done away with him, Cleo. She made quite a lot of pocket-money selling the vegetables that Mr Barker grew in such quantities that they couldn’t possibly eat them all themselves. And let’s not forget those poor hens.”

“But what if she did do away with him?”

“What makes you ask that now, Cleo? You have never questioned Mr Barker’s death before.”

“A dozen or so Finch Nightingales are in Middlethumpton General suffering or even dying after eating Jane’s soup at the chorus meeting,” said Cleo.

“That’s terrible, but do you think that means that Jane could have given Jim a dose of something?”

“Isn’t it possible, Dorothy?” said Gary.

“On reflection, I suppose it is, but it’s unlikely that she would do anything to those chorus ladies. She loved being part of that chorus. She’s a new woman now she has found a mission in life. Why would she spoil that?”

“She fed her ladies on soup, Dorothy, and you said it smelt funny, so we did not have any,” said Cleo.

There was a pause while Dorothy gasped.

“Oh dear. She offered me some of that soup yesterday morning and I refused.”

“The chorus soup?”

“Yes. It certainly looked like the cream of mushroom she had made the previous day and served at the chorus rehearsal.”

The two sleuths looked at one another in horror. Gary looked on, very perturbed.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Cleo?”

“I think we both probably had a narrow escape and you had two,” said Cleo.

“Toadstools, Cleo! Jim Barker could tell the difference, but I’m not sure that Jane can.”

“So if she had been collecting wild mushrooms…”

“… She might have collected a few poisonous ones.”

“I think Gary will have to send forensics to look at what’s in Mrs Barker’s kitchen,” said Cleo. “You still have a key of the house, don’t you, Dorothy?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t go in yourself, will you?”

“I won’t investigate unless you tell me to, Cleo,” said Dorothy a little starchily.

“No need to be offended, Dorothy.”

“I’m not offended, just alarmed.”

“I wonder if Jane is in hospital,” said Cleo.

“I don’t know, but she may have eaten some soup for lunch if I had refused it in the morning.”

“Since you haven’t seen her since yesterday morning, she might be unconscious or dead…”

“I suppose so,” said  Dorothy.

“…Especially if she knew enough about toadstool poison to add a few to her husband’s soup.”

“But Jim would not give her toadstools to cook with, Cleo. I think that disqualifies her from poisoning him.”

“Or she memorized what the poisonous mushrooms looked like and kept that knowledge to herself for future use.”

“I can’t believe that Jane was that devious,” said Dorothy.

“She was devious enough to smuggle Jim’s hens out of the house chloroformed,” said Cleo.

Gary could not think of anything to say. Something would have to happen.

***

“We might be missing something, of course,” said Cleo to Gary after Dorothy had gone shopping. “It occurred to me that if it wasn’t an accident and Mrs Barker was not responsible for the poison, someone else must have laced the soup with it at the rehearsal.”

“Aren’t you jumping the guns, Cleo? Let’s wait until Chris has more information. As far as I know, the women arrived at the hospital in various stages of sickness, presumably according to how much soup they had swallowed, and the hospital would prefer to think that it is a tropical disease.”

“I expect they contacted Chris yesterday as a matter of routine if something looks suspicious.”

“I’ll get Greg to check on Mrs Barker. We need to know if the woman survived her cooking,” said Gary.

***

Grit appeared to take PeggySue to the nursery. Roger followed. He had received a text from Gary requesting a search warrant for the Fargo property.

“I thought Gary would still be here,” said Roger. “He’s early this morning.”

“He’s putting his clothes on, Roger,” said Cleo. “He’s taking the girls to school for hockey practice.”

“What exactly is Gary looking for at the house?” Roger asked Cleo. “He seemed agitated, so didn’t asked questions.”

“Gary is looking for Dr Fargo’s corpse and it was my idea,” Cleo said.

“So you assume that Fargo will not be found dead there,” said Roger. “I need to talk to him.”

“I’m  here,” Gary announced returning from the bedroom fully dressed.

“About the villa,” he said. “I think Cleo should be there.”

“Are you sure, Gary?” said Cleo. “I can’t go till later.”

“Tell me about the house,” said Roger, helping himself to Dorothy’s currant bread.

“Dr Fargo owns it, but seems to have disappeared, unless the young relatives were putting on an act at the identification,” said Gary.

“But I I can’t get to HQ till later, Roger. I need to talk with Dorothy about those chorus women first.”

“Do we need to? More bread, anyone?” Dorothy chipped in.

“Yes. We don’t know if Jim Barker also ate poisoned soup so he’s the guy who might have to be exhumed. He and Jane lived next door to you and Jane offered you some of the left-over soup yesterday morning.”

“Fortunately, I refused.”

“We don’t know if Jane ate some of it later and is lying unconscious or dead, Gary. I hope someone can find out pretty soon.”

“That’s thought,” said Gary.

“So Can you send a team to Jane Barker’s house, Gary?” said Cleo. “Jim Barker is not buried in the garden, but we could not search the house!”

“Mrs Barker might not have poisoned her husband,” said Gary who was frankly sceptical when it came to Jane Barker, whom he thought was brainless if not headless. “And you’ve said Jim Barker is not buried in the garden so you must already have taken a good look.”

“I’d know if there was a freshly dug patch,” said Dorothy . The garden doesn’t get dug anymore.”

“He might have eaten poison soup, our poor dead Mr Barker,” said Cleo. “Only an exhumation could prove that.”

“And his widow may have poisoned some of the Finch Nightingales, too,” said Gary.

***

Of course, Roger had a fair idea of what was going on. Gary should have fallen in love with a weak little woman, but he was saddled with a loving wife full of determination and ambition, whom he adored but was hardly able to keep up with. Cleo had never solved the rivalry problem that was stuck firmly in Gary’s head.

***

“Aren’t you going to HQ, Roger?”

“I am, but I wanted to talk to Grit first and she’s busy with that sweet little daughter of yours.”

“That sounds ominous,” said Cleo hoping that Roger was not chickening out of domestic bliss with Grit.

“The thing is that we’re planning to get married,” said Roger, jumping the guns with his announcement since he hadn’t actually proposed to Grit. He was rewarded by an instant reaction from Grit., who had come in from the kiddies room with PeggySue.

“I can’t take PeggySue anywhere,” she said. “I think she has a raised temperature, Cleo. I hope she isn’t getting sick.”

“Don’t worry, Grit. I’ll get Dr Mitchell to look at her,” said Cleo, picking up the child. “She’s quite hot,” she said. “I’ll give her a big drink and put her to bed. I’ll call Dr Mitchell.”

Gary took PeggySue and gave her a drink, then put her back into her cot, where she went to sleep. He was concerned.

“As I was saying,” said Roger, “we’re going to get married.”

“That is a surprise,” said Gary mendaciously.

“And soon,” Grit said, smiling at Roger, “Even if Roger hasn’t actually proposed. We really wanted to get the date settled before telling you. Roger is rather impatient however. That’s why he’s jumping the guns”

“I think that’s the kettle calling the pot black, Mother, but you both have our blessing,” said Gary. “We’ll give you away.”

“You and Joe?” Cleo I assume. “Does Joe know?”

“Not yet,” said Grit. “I hardly know myself.”

Roger moved to Grit.

“I’m asking you officially now, Grit.”

“And I’m officially saying it’s good idea,” said Grit. “Much nicer than living in sin.”

“I don’t think our life together is sinful at all,” said Roger. “Life can’t get any nicer, in my view.”

“I could see it coming,” sai d Cleo, moving to embrace her mother-in-law and Roger.

“It was waiting to happen,” said Gary, coping admirably with the idea that his boss was marrying his mother.

“Can you give me a lift to HQ, Gary?” said Roger. “Grit will collect me later. We want to choose the rings.”

“Great!” said Cleo.

“If you don’t mind taking the girls to school,” said Gary.

“What’s living in sin, Daddy?” said Charlie. The girls had clearly been eavesdropping.

“Maybe you should have gone for the bus rather than listening in,” said Gary.

“That’s when people sleep together without being married,” said Cleo.

“Oh, that kind of sin,” said Charlie.

“Don’t forget the au pair, Gary! She arrives at exactly 2.04 from London”

“So it is a female,” said Gary.

“I’m not really sure,” said Cleo.

“What time?”

Cleo checked her phone.

“The two oh four London,” she said.

“I’ll get a pizza from Romano for lunch, then,” said Gary, seeing his siesta smashed by the strange figure of a home help prancing around on an afternoon when he needed to make the peace with Cleo after his recent fall from grace.

“I’ll join you,” said Roger.

“Why do you need the red car this morning, Cleo?” Gary asked.

“For one thing I want to be at the Fargo villa when the garden is searched, of course.”

“If we get round to it,” said Gary.

“We should try,” said Cleo.

“Who’s staying with the children?”

“Grit. Oh, you’re planning to go out,” said Cleo.

“Rings tomorrow, Grit,” said Roger.

“I’m so sorry,” said Cleo.

“For having those beautiful children? Rubbish,” sad Roger.

At that moment it was clear that Roger was part of the family and loving it.

***

Grit looked and Cleo and immediately knew why she needed the red car.

Roger and Gary exchanged puzzled glances.

“You’d better phone Chris and ask him when he’s going there.”

“I had thought of that, actually,” said Cleo, not mentioning her other plan. “I’ll see you both at about eleven, but tomorrow if that’s OK.”

“I expect we’ll have our act together by then,” said Gary.

“The au pair can get to know Tommy and Teddy while we take a siesta or wait for Dr Mitchel, or both. The babies will sleep while we are resting.”

“That sounds like a good plan, Gary,” said Roger.

“It does, doesn’t it?” said Grit. “Trust Cleo to get it all straightened out.”

With those words Grit gave her son a kiss on the forehead, declared that all his women loved him however awkward he was. Roger and Grit embraced and Roger followed Gary and the girls to the family van. By the time they had dropped the girls off and reached HQ, Gary had convinced Roger that if a serial killer was involved, it was time to catch up with him.

“Or her,” said Roger.

“Or both,” said Gary, thinking of the Fargos claiming their legal rights.

***

“It’s happened again,” said Cleo to Grit.

“Did you want it to?” Grit said, looking at the tell-tale test phial.

“We didn’t avoid it,” said Cleo.

“The logistics are horrendous,” said Grit. “But I’m delighted and happy for you. We’ll have to reorganize the sleeping arrangements. I assume that Gary has no idea.”

“You saw that he was not in the right mood this morning. I’ve dropped hints, but now I have the proof. I just wish he didn’t hate it when Dorothy or I jump the guns on one of his cases.”

“It’s time he grew up,” said Grit “His first step-father was the same.”

“Really?”

“He wanted me to give up journalism since he resented my success as a journalist. I couldn’t do that, so he left. I think he ended up in some backwater writing copy for a gardening paper, though he did not know one end of a spade from the other.”

“I never had to make that kind of choice, Grit. Gary is happy. He just has problems showing it sometimes.”

“He should find an occupation he actually enjoys,” said Grit. “He’s too sensitive to be a cop.”

“Roger was diplomatically saving the day with his proposal, don’t you think?” said Grit.

“I know you were waiting for it, Grit. I can just never understand why we women wait to be asked in an age when we are supposed to be equal.”

“Tradition I suppose. We don’t really need the security of a marriage. There’s not going to be any offspring at our age.”

“These days that should not be a reason for getting married. Marriage used to be for procreation before the invention of birth control, which makes it ludicrous these days that any church could disapprove of life outside marriage or the marriage of couples too old or unable to have children, but it’s still the case.  Gary and I don’t need the security either, but for the sake of our children it is a help in an age where prudery and bigotry are still rife.”

“That should all change,” said Grit. “It’s time all children had equal rights whatever their parentage. They did not ask to be born. They were often not even invited.”

“Or the result of something awful happening,” said Cleo.

“Those little ones resulting from violence and uncontrolled lust need us more than anyone.”

“Having my babies now makes up for losing my first one thanks to my violent first husband,” said Cleo. “Not that you can replace one baby through another.”

“I got Joe back, Cleo. Just imagine! After over forty years. He was my biggest wound and deepest grief. And now I have three men who care about me, my lovely daughter-in-law and one about to become one, three grandsons, four granddaughters and who knows what will be in the next delivery.”

The two women embraced for a long time. Cleo’s eyes were moist when she thanked Grit for caring so much.