Crime Short Story: Scandal By The Silver Screen

CRIME SHORT STORY BY KATIE ASHMORE

In this crime short story, set in the 1950s, Marina was determined to get to the bottom of this grisly case!

Marina stood and smoothed down her skirt, as the lights came back on in the auditorium.

She picked up her wool coat and flipped the plush cherry seat upright again.

“Ready, Norma?”

“Almost.”

Her friend was searching for her hat and bag.

It might be just as well to wait a few minutes anyway, Marina reflected, to allow other people to leave first.

This matinée showing of “How To Marry A Millionaire” had proved popular.

It was a wonderful film with its star cast of Marilyn Monroe, Betty Grable and Lauren Bacall.

It was so romantic, and she couldn’t decide which of the women was more glamorous.

“Sorry, Marina,” Norma said. “I can’t find my glove.”

By the time they’d located it, trapped between the back of the chair and the flip-up seat, the cinema was almost empty.

Only a couple in the back row and an usherette still remained.

Marina didn’t want to look too closely at the back row. There was probably canoodling going on.

However, the man whose back was towards them seemed unusually still, slumped at an odd angle.

She looked again. It wasn’t a couple at all.

Twisted round in his chair, the man was alone.

“Do you think he’s all right?” Marina asked her friend, gesturing to him.

“I should think so. Shall we go?”

Marina wasn’t convinced.

Taking a deep breath, she marched up to the man and shook his shoulder.

“Are you all right, sir?”

The man fell back against the seat and Marina screamed.

His face was drained of colour, his eyes were lifeless, and a knife protruded from his chest.

Norma came up.

“What’s wrong, Marina? I –” She gasped, clutching at the seat beside her.

“It’s Victor. Mr Piper,” Marina whispered. “And he’s dead.”

The next day, Marina and Norma sat in a booth in the coffee bar with their friends Bernard and Leslie.

They were struggling to get over the shock.

The boys had decided to take them out to cheer them up, and also to hear all the details.

The bar was busy.

Young men in suits, some in sunglasses, sat talking to girls in full-skirted dresses and cardigans, with large clip-on earrings, short bouffant hair and colourful lipstick.

The jukebox was playing Frankie Laine and steam hissed from the chrome espresso machine.

“So he was just sitting there dead and no-one noticed?” Leslie asked.

Marina sipped her coffee and nodded.

“I suppose with the film playing, no-one was paying attention.”

It seemed so awful that while they’d sat eating ice-cream and enjoying themselves, poor Mr Piper was being murdered.

“What a terrible shock,” Bernard said. “Not only finding a body, but someone you know.

“I think you’ve both been very brave.”

Marina smiled weakly.

She hadn’t felt brave, but they’d acted sensibly, calling the police and leaving everything as they’d found it.

Poor Mr Piper! He was the junior solicitor at the legal firm where Marina worked.

She didn’t know him well, but he’d been pleasant and appreciative when she’d taken him his tea.

He could only have been around thirty years of age.

“Marina was fantastic,” Norma said. “The police didn’t talk to me for long, but she was there ages.”

It had been a bit of an ordeal.

“Here, have a scone.” Bernard offered her the plate, looking concerned. “You still look pale.”

Marina smiled and took a bite.

Bernard was so considerate, and he looked handsome today in his plain suit and blue tie, his dark hair neatly combed.

Their other friend, Leslie, wore a pinstriped jacket and had a blond quiff.

“What did they ask you?” he enquired.

She shrugged.

“You know – how I found him and who did I think might have done it?

“They were very interested when they knew I worked with him.”

“I do hope they don’t suspect you,” Norma said, her eyes round.

Marina gulped. So did she.

“Did you find anything interesting?” Leslie asked.

“Not really,” Norma replied. “A solicitors’ business card was on the floor.

“It must have fallen out of his pocket.”

“Yes,” Marina confirmed, “and there was a list of clients in his pocket.

The police found it and I recognised a few names. Nothing interesting.

The boys nodded and drank their coffee, while Norma blew smoke from her cigarette into the air.

“Who do the police suspect?” Leslie asked.

“Anyone who knew him well,” Marina replied. “Someone from work, or a family member, perhaps?

“They kept going on about motive and asking me what it was like working in the office.”

“Wow.” Bernard looked excited. “The murderer could be someone you work with, Marina. What do you think?”

She hadn’t given it much thought.

“Peggy and I are the secretaries,” she explained. “There are three partners.

“Poor Victor, of course, was the junior one.

“Then there’s Horace Winters and Clifford Hardcastle – he’s the senior partner.”

“Did any of them have a grudge against Mr Piper?” Norma stubbed out her cigarette and looked at her friend with interest.

Marina played with her necklace and thought.

“I suppose Mr Winters didn’t like him much.

“I heard them arguing a couple of times and he was critical of him when Mr Piper wasn’t there.”

The boys leaned forward eagerly and Leslie nodded.

“That’s the sort of thing, Marina,” he said. “Maybe this Winters has a motive?”

“Do you know why they didn’t get on?” Bernard asked.

“I’ve always assumed he felt a bit threatened by him,” she told her friends.

“You know, a younger, more talented fellow joining the partnership.

“Maybe he was jealous or worried about his own job.”

“That’s brilliant, Marina,” Leslie said. “If Mr Hardcastle was thinking of sacking him and promoting Victor, it would be motive.”

Marina swallowed. That was true. Could Mr Winters be the murderer?

A few days later, Marina was back at work.

The office had been closed for a short time, as a mark of respect and also to allow the police to search the premises and interview employees.

Now, however, she was back at her typewriter.

She sighed and attempted to focus on the letter she was typing.

It was a cold, frosty morning, but the office was warm enough.

The electric fire had been on for a while and the beautiful frost patterns on the windows had melted.

She was wearing her thermals underneath her woollen skirt suit, but she still couldn’t concentrate.

Could Mr Winters, upstairs in his office, really be the murderer?

She shook her head and looked about.

The room where she and Peggy worked was plain.

There were two large wooden desks, each with a typewriter, a telephone, an office chair and letter trays.

Large, heavy filing cabinets lined two walls and folders of documents were stacked on any available surface.

Peggy was out at the Post Office.

The other girl had been crying on and off for most of the morning and Marina couldn’t understand what had got into her.

The door slammed and there was a loud sniff – she must be back already.

Marina turned to see her colleague enter the room.

She had short blonde hair, red-rimmed eyes, and was wearing a dress and cardigan.

Peggy was usually a pretty young woman with forget-me-not eyes, a slim figure and a ready smile.

She sat down, put a new sheet of paper into her typewriter and turned to her notepad.

She looked as if she were about to type up a document from the shorthand dictation that she’d taken, but suddenly she burst into tears.

Marina had had enough.

“Peggy, what’s the matter with you?” she asked. “Please, can’t you pull yourself together?”

The girl looked up and pointed at her notepad.

“This was the last dictation that Victor gave me,” she wailed.

Marina handed her a clean handkerchief.

“That’s as may be,” she said. “I know we’ve all had a dreadful shock, but we didn’t know Mr Piper well.”

“But I did.” Peggy looked up at her with huge eyes.

“Did what?”

“I did know him well.”

Marina stared at her.

Aside from taking dictation and delivering messages and cups of tea, they had little contact with the male partners.

We were in love

Peggy announced. “I can’t go on without him.”

“Hush, lower your voice.” Marina was shocked.

They were not allowed to fraternise with their male colleagues and, anyway, Victor had married Ivy four years ago.

They had two children. What could Peggy mean?

“I know it was wrong,” Peggy continued, “but I couldn’t help it.

“He was so kind to me, so charming and we were truly in love.

“He was going to leave that Ivy, he was . . .”

She sobbed and Marina stood rooted to the spot.

How had she not noticed something going on?

More to the point, it changed the whole nature of the murder investigation.

She doubted very much that Mr Piper would have left his wife.

Could Peggy be a murderess?

Marina moved back to her own desk.

She wondered whether the police knew. Should she tell them?

“Peggy, dear,” she began, “I know this is difficult, but have you told any of this to the police?”

Peggy swallowed and nodded.

“I wasn’t going to,” she said. “Victor said I should never tell a soul, but that Inspector was so kind, it all came flooding out.”

Marina felt a wave of relief. She wouldn’t have to betray a confidence.

The deed was done.

She wondered what her friends would make of this latest development.

Peggy seemed an unlikely murderess, however.

She wasn’t at all convinced that she had the gumption to carry out a heinous crime, and she was clearly devastated by Mr Piper’s death.

Marina rubbed her forehead, deep in thought.

This new information didn’t just cast Peggy in a guilty light.

What of Ivy Piper?

If she’d found out about her husband’s liaison or thought he might leave her, that was a powerful motive.

Perhaps his own wife was responsible!

The office was silent, except for the click of Marina’s heels on the floor.

Norma was sitting silently, allowing her friend to concentrate.

She was wearing a pink twin set and still had her coat around her shoulders.

Every now and then, she turned a page of her novel or tapped the ash from her cigarette into the dish on Victor Piper’s desk.

Norma had kindly come to keep Marina company as she worked late.

Now that the police had finished their search, she had been asked to sort and tidy Mr Piper’s office.

She was to pass any urgent files to the other partners, and to leave it tidy for a possible future incumbent.

Victor had been an organised man, which had made Marina’s job easier.

It was lucky that she had come in here, as for some reason he had some of Mr Hardcastle’s files as well as his own.

However, she’d sorted through everything and was almost finished.

Suddenly, there was a ring on the doorbell and the sound of footsteps stomping up the stairs.

Marina and Norma looked at one another – they weren’t expecting visitors.

The door opened to reveal the smiling faces of Bernard and Leslie.

“Hi, ladies. We thought we might find you here.” Leslie grinned.

“Yes,” Bernard said to Marina. “Norma told us you were working late, so we’ve come to take you out for a bite to eat, when you’re finished.”

“How kind.” Marina felt her spirits lift.

They really were thoughtful friends.

It was just what she needed after this difficult task.

They must have dashed straight over from work.

They both looked very smart in grey suits, white shirts and maroon ties.

It was quite strange seeing Leslie without his trademark sunglasses.

“I’m almost finished,” Marina said. “One more drawer to go through.”

“Right you are.”

The others chatted as Marina finished her task.

“So, what do you think now?” Norma was asking the boys.

Do you still suspect Mr Winters?

“No.” Leslie shook his head and ran a hand over his quiff. “After what Marina discovered, I think it’s that Peggy.

“All those tears could just be a cover-up.

“Didn’t she want to become an actress before she got this job?”

“Well, yes, she did,” Norma said.

“My money’s on his wife,” Bernard said. “Ivy. Is that her name, Marina?”

She nodded.

She felt Ivy was a more likely candidate, but she’d seemed very nice when Marina had met her – ordinary and maternal.

Could she have murdered the father of her children?

Had she got her mother to babysit while she went to the pictures to stab him?

It seemed very unlikely!

“I don’t think it can be her, Bernard,” Marina said.

“And why choose a public space like the cinema, when they lived together?”

“I see what you mean,” he conceded.

“Now, Norma, if you just vacate the desk, I’ll give it a tidy and we can go.”

Her friend moved and Marina began to straighten things out.

She put paper clips and rubber bands into a drawer, neatened the in-trays and emptied the ashtray into the bin.

She was straightening the rectangular holder that contained a sheet of pink blotting paper when she saw something underneath.

The corner of a sheet of paper was protruding, from between the holder and the blotting paper.

She fished it out and gasped.

“What is it, Marina?” Her friends turned towards her. “What have you found?”

Bernard took the paper from her and examined it.

“Isn’t this just a list of clients and fees?” he asked.

Norma glanced over his shoulder.

“It’s the same list of names they found in Mr Piper’s pocket, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Marina said, “but that was only names, and these aren’t just fees!

“This column shows the firm’s standard fees and this is what these clients were actually charged.”

Bernard’s mouth fell open.

“Mr Hardcastle has been embezzling from the clients.” Marina sat down heavily. “Mr Piper must have found discrepancies.

“He took over some accounts from Mr Hardcastle recently.

“He’s clearly been investigating. That’s why I found the files for the other clients in this office.

“So Mr Hardcastle is the murderer!”

The next evening, the four friends sat in Marina’s living room, eating fish and chips from newspaper.

The room was cosy with the fire lit and the scent of salt and vinegar in the air.

Marina felt better than she had for a week.

Mr Hardcastle had been arrested and the case was closed.

“You were brilliant figuring it all out, Marina,” Bernard said warmly.

Yesterday, they had abandoned their plans and taken the paper and the client folders straight to the police station.

“It wasn’t difficult once I found that list,” she replied.

“I’d already been wondering why Mr Piper had files for some of Mr Hardcastle’s clients.

“I realised that he’d taken over a couple of clients and discovered Mr Hardcastle had been overcharging, pocketing the money and not paying tax on it either.

“He must then have looked into all his transactions.”

“Yes,” Norma agreed. “Mr Piper must have challenged him about it and, later, Mr Hardcastle followed him to the cinema and killed him so he couldn’t tell anyone else.”

“Yes, and perhaps Mr Hardcastle dropped the business card as he fled,” Bernard suggested.

Anyway, there was no doubt about his guilt.

The police had gone through all the documents and confirmed Mr Piper’s suspicions.

Finally Mr Hardcastle had confessed.

Apparently he’d tried to reason with his junior, even resorted to offering a share of his ill-gotten gains.

But Mr Piper had refused and insisted that he own up and refund the money.

Mr Hardcastle couldn’t face the damage to his reputation or his pocket.

Marina sighed. The whole thing was very sad.

“Don’t be glum, Marina.” Bernard said, looking concerned. “It’s all resolved and you’ve been amazing.”

His eyes glowed warmly and he took her hand.

“Would you like to go to the pictures with me this weekend and I’ll try to cheer you up?”

She beamed at him.