INSPECTOR ADDISON - THE REMINGTON MURDER - Final Episode

Reaching for another sandwich Inspector Addison said, “Yes, Anthony Biaggio was your husband’s lover; the mystery woman in green, whom he met at the Remington Hotel on numerous occasions.  Although Sir Rodney had been slain in a most gruesome manner, his murderer must have had considerable feelings for him because his body was left neat and tidy.  Clearly, he wasn’t hated like the unfortunate Mr. Biaggio, whose body was humiliatingly mutilated and left in disarray; wouldn’t you agree Lady Charlesworth?”  Before she could answer he continued, “I doubt very much that any of Sir Rodneys valuables will be found, most likely at the bottom of the Thames.  However, the gold medallion with the letter ‘A’ engraved on it, which he wore around his neck holds my interest.  I suspect the poor deceased man riding in the back of an ambulance wore the exact medallion around his neck with the letter ‘R’ engraved on it – like Romeo and Romeo – two star crossed lovers.  But who killed them; that is the question at hand?”

Popping another delightful tasting sandwich into his mouth and taking a sip of tea the inspector continued, “Do either of you know?”

When there was no answer, only confused expressions on their faces as they looked at each other he continued, “I thought as much.”

Looking at Amelia he quietly said, “Or perhaps, it’s just an hypothesis on my part, but what if the initial ‘A’ on the gold medallion were to stand for Amelia rather than Anthony.  What then?”

Amelia blurted, “Are you insinuating that I killed Rodney?” 

Glancing at her sister she said, “He was my sister’s husband, I’d never do such a thing!  And besides, although Rodney made advances towards me, he preferred mostly men.  He was a bloody faggot!”

Then looking at her sister, tears beginning to flow down her flushed cheeks, she said, “I’m sorry what I just said about Rodney, and I'd have told you how much of a letch he was, but I knew how much you loved and respected him.”

Lady Charlesworth touched her sister's arm tenderly and said, “I’ve known for quite a long time that Rodney was not a nice person and that he was having an affair with someone.”  Suddenly, angrily exclaiming as she grabbed her small plate and flung it across the room, shattering it against the wall into tiny shards, “But a man!  How could that bastard do that to me?  I loved him and was loyal to him – I would have done anything for him!  Why didn’t he love me in the same way?”   

Hanging her head down, she began sobbing uncontrollably.  When she lifted her head, her eyes were red and puffy and rivulets of tears were running down her face.  Still sobbing she said, “Amelia, I love you and know that you would never have done anything with my husband.”

Amelia pulled her chair closer to her sister’s and then put her arms around her.

“I’m sorry,” said the inspector, “To break up this touching moment but I have a murder to solve.  Pulling a clean white handkerchief from his vest pocket, he handed it to Lady Charlesworth. 

She wiped the remaining tears away and then blew her nose.  Once she had regained her composure she defiantly declared, “Those are the last tears I’ll shed over Sir Rodney Broderick Charlesworth.”

There were times when Inspector Alexander Addison didn’t particularly care for his job and this was one of them.  However, two men had been brutally murdered, very serious crimes committed, and it was his duty as a law enforcer to bring the perpetrator to justice.  The room suddenly seemed very quiet when he said, “I shall continue now.”

We know that Sir Rodney was slain by someone he knew and by the manner in which Mr. Baggio died, it appears he also knew his killer.  The two homicides are connected, to that there is no discussion or doubt.  But by whom?”

“At the beginning of the investigation I had a hunch that the murder of Sir Rodney Charlesworth was more than just a random robbery and as it turns out I was right.  This murder had nothing to do with money; it's more about love and jealousy.”  Looking squarely into Lady Charlesworth’s vivid blue eyes he continued, “You are the murderer or should I say murderess Lady Charlesworth.”

“Don’t be daft!” exclaimed Amelia.

“I’m sorry Amelia but it’s true and I’ll tell you why.  It all came to me when I noticed your sister’s diamond wedding ring sparkling in the sun.”

“A wedding ring; what’s that have to do with anything?” Amelia asked.

"I have a special gift; I have a photographic memory.  I can scan a whole book very quickly, doesn't matter how many pages it contains, and you could ask me to tell you what’s on page 87 or any page number you desire and I can repeat it word for word.  Also, I can go into a room and just casually glance around and everything I see in that room is embedded in my mind for total recall.  Your sister’s ring triggered my memory, about another object I’d previously seen.  If you look closely at the ring you will notice a tiny blood stain in the facets, which is something I noticed on the engraving of the letter opener in Sir Rodney’s study the other day.  When your sister declared that she had the only key to his study; the only person who could have possibly killed him then, was your sister.  I perceive that she followed her husband to his little love den one night and then waited in the nearby dark alley for him.  Also, what neither of you know, is that while Sir Rodney was lying in the morgue, two shades of lipstick were found on his body.  One was near his penis, which I firmly believe was the mystery woman’s and the other was your sister’s when she kissed him good-bye as he lay dying in the alley.”

“You’ll never prove that in a court of law,” Lady Charlesworth blurted.

“I have to admit that the evidence is rather circumstantial Lady Charlesworth.  However,” as he nodded towards the window, seeing one of his Bobbies carrying what appeared to be an armful of bloody riding apparel, “I believe one of my constables has discovered something substantially more incriminating.”

Suddenly, Lady Charlesworth jumped up out of her chair and ran towards the door.  Flinging it wide open, she was greeted by a smiling Hobson blocking her way.  The inspector was about to say there’s no escape, when she suddenly darted alongside the wall where a floor to ceiling bookcase was installed.  She must have pressed a secret button because the bookcase unexpectedly slid aside, revealing a narrow stairway leading up towards the next floor.  As she dashed up the stairs, the inspector sprang out of his chair and was in hot pursuit. 

The stairway was very dark but the inspector could hear her foot steps up ahead.  He wasn’t used to chasing criminals on foot and he felt his legs tiring as he ran up the spiraling staircase, using the banister for direction and balance.  Suddenly, a light flashed down the staircase shining directly into his eyes as Lady Charlesworth opened a door and disappeared through it laughing and yelling hysterically, “Something else my dear husband didn’t know I knew about.

When the inspector arrived at the top of the stairway, he found himself in the attic, which was filled with boxes and all sorts of paraphernalia; thick cobwebs, hanging from the rafters like ghosts .  A large round window was open at the end of the room..  He couldn’t see Lady Charlesworth but he could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he wove his way to the window and clambered out onto a narrow ledge.

Lady Charlesworth stood halfway down the building on the same narrow ledge; the steep roof behind her was made of copper and had turned a dull green .  She was near a metal ladder leading to a small turret at the top of the roof but she didn’t seem to want to go any further.  The inspector said, still panting as he did so, “There’s no place to go Lady Charlesworth, come back in where it’s safe.”

“Safe!” she exclaimed.  “More like step inside and I’ll take you down to the jail house.”

“I have no choice in that matter Lady Charlesworth but perhaps the judge will find some leniency for the crimes you’ve committed.  I can see how upsetting it would be to discover that your husband was not only having an affair, but an affair with another man is most disturbing and the judge may have some understanding and compassion for your actions."

“My trial will be very scandalous and lengthy I should imagine and in the end, I expect I shall go to the gallows, or failing that, a life sentence in a squalid penitentiary” she said defiantly.

And then, turning slightly, till she was facing the countryside, the sun shining in her face; the breeze blowing a ribbon loose from her long blonde hair looped and spiraled like a delicate acrobat until it disappeared amidst a copse of birch trees.  As her hair flowed around her head like a wave rolling towards the shore she said, “Please don’t call me Lady Charlesworth; I’m so tired of being called that; my name is Victoria. 

The inspector could see the desperation on Victoria’s face beginning to fade as he edged his way towards her extending his hand.  “Here, take hold of my hand Victoria and let’s go inside.  If you don't care what happens to you, at least think about your sister - she loves you very much.”

“Think about my sister Inspector Addison; I am thinking about her.  I loved my husband dearly and I loved this place; just look how beautiful it is.  I can see the horse I rode this morning prancing in the corral and the beautiful flower gardens; the pond and its swans; see how gracefully they move.”  She looked towards the inspector and said, “Tell my sister that I’ve always loved her.”

Before he could say another word, Victoria stepped off the roof and plunged to her death on the cobblestone driveway below. 

I'd like to thank every one who participated in the Murder/Mystery Contest - the winner is T. O Brien.  I would like to hear from anyone that read this tale; if they found it enjoyable and intriguing and would like me to write another story where the reader has to solve the outcome.