A knock at the door.
Mr Bennett sighs, folds up his newspaper and places it beside his glass on the side table. He was enjoying the peace and quiet and a finger of malt. It’s a little early for whiskey, but at least he’s putting off mowing the lawn for a little longer.
Visitors….
Who needs them?
He opens the door, then rocks a little. He didn’t expect to find the police on his doorstep. A uniformed officer with dark glasses and an official manner stands there, casually flicking through a notebook.
“Hello? Um….”
“Good morning. Would you be Mr Bennett?”
“Yes, that’s right. What can I do for you, officer?”
“I was given your name in connection with a young woman we’re looking for, one Jennifer Conners. I understand she recently married your son?”
“Jennifer?”
Of course….
What else would it be?
“What’s she done now? I’m not remotely surprised she’s in trouble with the police.”
“Who is it, dear?” Mrs Bennett’s voice echoes from the next room.
“It’s the police,” he shouts back. “They’re looking for Jennifer. She’s in some sort of trouble.”
Mrs Bennett appears behind him in a skirt and sweater topped with a string of pearls, all immaculately presented. Her slightly waved hair is set and perfectly groomed. “Oh dear,” she fusses. “Now what has she done?” Then she examines her husband. “Button, dear.”
He frowns, then fastens the top button of his shirt.
“May I come in?” asks the policeman.
officer.
“Coffee, please. Black.”
him to the lounge. “Please, sit down. What can we
was married to your son before
can call it a marriage. And for
does that
on otherwise plastered perfection. His chin
and saucers and a matching coffee pot. She offers a plate of cookies, artfully
will.” He takes off his sunglasses, smiling disarmingly. “The wife says I’m not supposed to but, you know, it’s been a long
ingredients officer. Homemade. You can tell your wife that you’ll come to no
appreciation. “Delicious,” he mumbles, wiping crumbs
help yourself. There’s plenty more where those came
Now, about Jennifer? And her marriage
eyes. “It’s a little
“She wouldn’t sleep with him,” he says bluntly. “The whole marriage was a fake. I don’t know why she did it, but there you go. And to make
that would be distressing for you. Does he say why it
get anything out of him. Personally, I think he just feels a fool
says the police officer, his tone bland.
surprise. He was sleeping on the settee. We thought they’d had an argument at first, but it turned out he’d always slept there. They’d never…. She’d never…. The whole thing was a fake. I don’t know what she
voice angry. “It’s obvious. Money. She came with nothing. She thought she could marry into a good family and
shouldn’t be telling you this, but under the circumstances, I think I should. I’m looking for Jennifer
at the moment, but significant. The pattern with such crimes is that the perpetrators start small but work their way up as their confidence increases. We would
their faces. “I realise that you are probably fond of the girl. She was after all part of your family for a while, however briefly, but it really would be for the best if we can find her. Bring this to a halt before this gets out of hand and
How
is my personal number, Officer Corby. Don’t call the station. It’s a big city and a case like this gets lost in the works. You’d just be passed from pillar to
yes, we’ll
*****
arms folded,
fry me if I tell him
the sound of footsteps. A young man, tall, blond,
you be
He draws closer, looking surprised at