As I said, Gladys is an absolute gem. I left her wages on the kitchen worktop and added an extra five pounds and a note of thanks. She’s worth every penny.
I was in the office at eight o’clock the next morning, thus giving me two hours before the commander arrived at the stroke of ten. He was never at work earlier than that and I suspected he had been warned not to overdo it by Mrs Commander, a harridan of a woman if the photograph that adorned her husband’s desk was anything to go by.
My team had been busy. At nine o’clock, DS Flynn came into my office.
‘I’ve been checking on the credit cards found at the murder scene, guv. Clifford Gregory’s card was used twice at the Chimes Shopping Centre at Uxbridge the day before yesterday. The receipts show that it was first used for the purchase of underwear at ten-sixteen, and again for an omelette, a pastry and two coffees at ten-thirty-seven at an Italian restaurant at the shopping centre.’ Flynn closed his daybook. ‘I’ve got Sheila Armitage checking it out at the shopping centre; she might turn up something useful. And the hotel told me that Clifford Gregory’s card was swiped by the receptionist Natalie Lester at the Dickin Hotel at twelve-oh-two. But we knew what time she’d booked in, of course.’
Dave appeared with cups of coffee. ‘Not much joy so far, then, guv,’ he said, when I’d brought him up to date.
‘I think there’s no doubt that Sharon Gregory murdered her husband, Dave. The purchase of the window sash weight and the clothes line is down to her, and the online transaction with the Mexican pharmaceutical company was almost certainly for the Rohypnol. As well as the evidence of Clifford Gregory’s blood in the shower tray and on the sash weight.’
‘I can’t see this ghostly intruder bothering to take a shower,’ said Dave, ‘unless he hadn’t got any clothes on either. And that would create a whole new ball game. Frankly, I don’t think he exists.’
‘Perhaps not an intruder as such, Dave,’ I said. ‘Even so, it might be a good idea to examine the computer at the Gregorys’ house to see if it turns up any other names. And Charlie Flynn has confirmed that she used her husband’s credit card on two occasions in Uxbridge, and to check in at the hotel.’
‘And they haven’t got a hope in hell of getting their money. What a terrible shame!’ commented Dave, who had jousted with credit card companies in the past.
‘The only question,’ I continued, ‘was whether she had any help to murder her husband. Was this mysterious intruder known to her and was he an accomplice in the murder? Or perhaps he didn’t exist at all.’
‘I just said that … sir,’ said Dave.
At two o’clock that afternoon, we were back at Henry Mortlock’s mortuary.
The naked body of Sharon Gregory, sewn roughly together after Mortlock’s probing, lay on a table.
‘As I said at the scene, Harry, the cause of death was manual strangulation.’ Mortlock finished washing his hands and turned to face us. ‘Petechiae, cyanosis and congestion all indicate pressure on the jugular veins. There was also heavy bruising in that area – probably caused by the killer’s thumbs – which, as I suggested previously, implies that he had some strength in his hands.’
‘Like a surgeon, Doc?’ queried Dave, with feigned innocence. ‘They’ve got strong hands, haven’t they?’
‘Very funny, Sergeant Poole.’ Mortlock put on his jacket. ‘There’s something else that may interest you, Harry. Sharon Gregory was two months pregnant. In view of the fact that her husband had had a vasectomy, it might give you something to think about.’
‘From what we’ve learned about her, Henry, I’m not at all surprised. Is it possible to get a DNA sample from the fetus?’
‘Already done,’ said Mortlock. ‘It’s on its way to the forensic science lab. But that’ll only help you if the father’s DNA is on record.’
‘It will be, by the time I’ve finished,’ I said. It was more a pious hope than a certainty, although the father of Sharon Gregory’s unborn child was not necessarily the murderer. And from what I’d learned so far, the father could be any one of a dozen men that she had known.
‘Incidentally,’ continued Mortlock, ‘she’d recently had unprotected sex. It’s possible that the DNA of the sperm will match any that’s found in the fetus.’
‘This job’s turning into a nightmare,’ I said.
‘It gets better,’ said Mortlock. ‘There were two different traces of vaginal fluid on Sharon Gregory’s body. One was hers, but the other has yet to be identified.’