Chapter 3

Over the next few days, I spoke to as many friends and acquaintances of Clement as I could. All it proved was that he was a man of smoke and mirrors. Everyone had their own likes encouraged and their dislikes agreed with. He was consistently remembered as smooth but untrustworthy by those he had met since he left school. Only his schoolfriends were able to skate over his failings.

Then, the local news broke the story that a trawler had been found drifting close to the Lincolnshire coast. It was towed back to Lowestoft where it was carefully searched. The police were publicly silent, but the Inspector called me and told me that they had found several different bloodstains, which had matched the four men who had owned the boat. One set of mixed stains were at the back ramp, where it was likely that they had been weighted and slid into the sea.

He also told me that there had been no sign of any contraband, or money. The thinking in his office was that they had been killed by their suppliers and dumped overboard. The reason why was still to be discovered. I wondered if the money we had hidden was supposed to have been used, but then thought that Clement had disappeared well before the gang set out.

That in mind, though, Susan and I counted it, converting all the foreign currency to pounds. It totalled just over thirty thousand, with the bit she gave me adding only another fifteen hundred. To my mind, that was nowhere near enough for a drug deal. A low-level cigarette deal, but that wouldn’t be enough to kill for.

I tried to earn my fee by checking the local maps and looking for any isolated site where a Transit could be left and forgotten. I spent three days driving around, but Norfolk is a pretty flat land. Any hiding places would be in copses that were near tourist areas and good for camping sites. I then started thinking about places where it could be left in plain view.

On my second day of looking at large car parks, I found it at Gapton Hall Retail Park, near Yarmouth, parked close to the delivery doors for M&S. I parked near it and called the Inspector. While I sat, waiting for his arrival, I wondered what I would do now. This was my last day of paid work for Susan. If she wanted me to stay longer, it would depend on what was found in the Transit, otherwise, I could just head home.

That thought didn’t sit well with me. I wasn’t one to leave something in the air. Finally, a police car and a forensics van pulled up and the Inspector came up to my car.

“Islington said that you were like a terrier with a bone when you were investigating. I’ll get my boys to have a look at this and we’ll see where it takes us. The case is spinning its wheels, otherwise.”

I stood with him and the sergeant as the forensics guys donned their outfits. Another van from the Yarmouth station had turned up and the officers were putting a bunting barrier around us. One of the men rummaged around in their van and produced a set of car keys, and after about five minutes of carefully trying keys, he opened the back doors of the Transit.

There was only one thing inside. It was a shape, wrapped in black plastic and secured with gaffer tape. To me, it looked very much like a body. They left it as is and opened the front doors. Then the forensic team started taking fingerprints as the Inspector called up a tray-top to take the van away. He turned to me with a grimace.

“If I’m not mistaken, that will be the remains of Clement Cornwall. He’ll be a bit smelly, now having been there for a month or more. You can go and let Susan know that we’re likely to need her to identify him in a day or two.”

As I drove back to Hall Lane, I knew that I would have to stay around until this played out, whether she paid me or not. It was a baffling case, with Clement and his whole gang eliminated without any remorse. No sign of contraband or drugs, or even any money. The guys that had been on the trawler had been identified as some ruffians about the same age as Clement. He may have met up with them while they were still at school. Their homes had been searched and their next of kin advised that they had been lost at sea. There were a few memorial services which I didn’t attend, but the police had looked closely for any known criminals, to no avail.

At the farm, I told Susan that we may have found the body of her husband, but it would take a little while before she would need to formally identify it. I held her as she cried and then she pulled herself together and took her chequebook out of her bag.

“Maxie, you’ve been more than a friend to me in the last couple of weeks, but I know that your time is money. I’ll write you a cheque for another five thousand if you’ll stay and support me through this. As soon as we have confirmation, I’ll organise a funeral in the church where we were married. If everything is finalised before this runs out, you can go back to London and keep the remainder as a bonus. I would never have been able to take this all in without you by my side.”

Together, we went into the main shopping area of Lowestoft, where I banked both of the cheques she had given me, and she went to her bank to deposit a some of the cash we had found as payment for strawberries. The next morning, we drove down to Stansted, where we divided the moderate amount of Swiss francs that was in the case and went to separate money exchanges to get it changed to pounds, using our passports as ID. Hopefully, it would be just another transaction in the thousands that they do. I gave her what I had been given, and we left the terminal like a couple who had just arrived.

She would be paying the pounds into her bank over a period as cash payments for strawberries. I advised her to say that she had hosted a coach load of tourists who were happy to pick their own. It did leave about ten thousand Euro to move, but she had caught on quick. I could see that each day she was further out of the fog that she had fallen into after her marriage. She even thought that advertising ‘pick your own’ was a good idea and set about ordering a signboard.

Later that afternoon she had the call from the Inspector, so made an appointment to view the body the next morning. He said that dental records had been enough, but a formal view by the next of kin would rubber stamp the issuing of a death certificate.

That evening we went and broke the news to his parents, and they agreed that the church funeral would be good, no matter how bad he had been in life. The next morning, after the viewing and a few tears, she was given the death certificate. We then went to the church where we were able to organise the service for the following week. The vicar advised her that she would need to pay cash for the volunteer gravediggers on the day.

After that, it was a simple matter to go to a funeral director and organise the pick-up of the body from the morgue and to deliver it to the church in time for the service. We were sitting at her kitchen table with cups of tea and a fruit cake when the phone rang. Susan answered it and I could just hear her telling the caller that ‘it is all right’ and ‘that would be good’. When she sat down, she smiled.

“That was the Inspector. He had called the other wife in Naples to tell her about the confirmed death of her husband. He said that she wanted to come here. She wanted to know who was organising the funeral and he asked if I didn’t mind him telling her about me.”

“That will be a bit of a shock to her, and her family.”

“I told him the time and place. It will be interesting to see her. She looked a lot like me in the picture.”

We spent the intervening time to put an advertisement in the local paper, and contacting all his friends that we knew from her list. The other important thing was to go and find a couple of black dresses to wear and also take her mother-in-law to her own favourite dressmaker.

On the day of the funeral, it was properly overcast. I stood with her and her in-laws as they welcomed the mourners. I noticed a large car that arrived outside the churchyard gate and watched as two men and a woman got out, one of the men reaching in and pulled a small child out, hoisting it in his arms. The woman was in a similar dress to Susan. I nudged her.

“Looks like the other wife has arrived. She looks a little worried. I think it would be good if you go to them and welcome them personally. The older man with the child could be her father.”

I didn’t say that the younger one made my legs feel like jelly. She nodded and left the porch to walk towards them. They spoke for a few seconds and then the two wives embraced and held each other as tears flowed. The father looked on with a slight smile as he cuddled the child. The younger one looked serious until he looked towards the porch. That’s when his face lit up. She led them all to the porch and introductions were made.

The older man was Salvatore Guiliano, and the child was his new grandchild, Pio. The younger man was her brother, Luigi. I was introduced as an old school friend of Susan, and the investigator who found the body. Luigi took my hand and congratulated me on my powers of deduction. I thought that my second power was working on him as well.

We all made our way into the church and the service began. We had the two front pews, with the original family on one side and the Italians on the other. After about forty minutes, the coffin was carried outside to the gravesite, where the pallbearers lowered it into the ground. The two wives stood side by side as they tossed some earth onto the coffin. Salvatore stood with Clement’s parents, his mother taking over the holding of her unexpected grandchild.

I stood a bit back with Luigi. He whispered that he was glad that he had joined his sister on the trip, even though it was a sad time for everyone. He whispered in my ear.

“My father is sad because he didn’t get to kill the man. It was a great affront to the family when we found out that he already had a wife. Seeing her and Silvana together, you could almost think that they were sisters.”

I turned my head, smiled, and nodded.

“We need to have a good discussion, Luigi. There is a lot about his death that needs looking into.”

He told me the hotel where they were staying and invited Susan and I to join them for dinner that evening, where we could have a quiet talk. After the funeral, Susan went to see the priest to leave the cash for the gravediggers, as well as a donation to the church. Salvatore joined us to give a generous donation of his own.

“It’s what we do, ladies. In Italy we are very generous to the Catholic church, and in return they give us excellent funerals.”

We said cheerio to the in-laws, who had a car of their own, and walked to Susan’s car to go back to the farm.

Back at the farm, we relaxed for a while, and I told her about the dinner tonight. We took our time getting ready to go out again. We couldn’t think of anything that we needed to give the Guiliano family, so were just in good dresses, with coats and bags, when our heels tapped to her car. She drove to the hotel in her heels. That was the one thing she could do that I had never mastered. There, we parked and went in, checking our coats in the reception.

We were led to a table where the two men stood for us, with both giving us hugs and continental cheek kisses. We both bent to Silvana as she stayed seated and gave her cheek kisses. When we were all seated, Salvatore looked at the two of us.

“Ladies, if you have done your research, you will know that Clement would be dead when he got to Napoli, now we know that he was a bigamist, on top of his other lies. Now, no more talk about that until after dinner. I’ve had a look at the menu, and they look as if the chef could be good.”

We had a good meal, with a lot of talk about young Pio, who had been left with a nanny. Salvatore admitted that it was the one good thing from the whole saga. Susan told them about her life, and when she told them that she had miscarried in her sixth month, Silvana stood to go to her and give her a hug. I had to give them a potted history of my own life after I last saw Susan when we left school.

All through the meal I noticed Luigi giving me sly glances, probably because I was returning them. When we had finished, Salvatore led us through to the hotel bar where he had reserved a booth in a quiet corner. We all sat, and he ordered champagne.

“Ladies, this trip has been a great surprise to us. It follows the surprise when we found out that Clement already had a lovely wife. Now, can you tell us about him and what he was doing?”

Susan told them about meeting the man, getting pregnant and getting married, followed by the rejection later. She then told them about building a separate house on spare land and him living alone to come and go as he pleased.

I then gave then a shortened version of my investigations and what I had found in his office. When I mentioned the cigarettes, Salvatore laughed out loud.

“Look, ladies. What you’ve just told me only confirms my ideas about him. He was a small-time crook and a liar. He could have made a fortune if he had concentrated on being a con man; he was so smooth he had us fooled. He told us that he worked for a charity and had been buying some of Silvana and Anna’s old stock to on-sell to shops here in England, with the profits to be split between the seller and the charity. It was a way of clearing the warehouse and we didn’t mind. He did buy a load of remainders two months ago, but only took a few. The rest are still waiting for him to pay for them.”

I remembered what I had seen.

“There was a rack of about twenty dresses, all with the Erminia label, in the shed where his friends had their contraband. I expect that it’s in the local police evidence room.”

Susan looked at Silvana.

“How much does he owe you?”

“How much do you have?”

“We found some money that he had hidden. The police didn’t seem to care. There’s a bit over ten thousand Euro.”

“To you, my sister in grief, the cost for the rest will be just ten thousand Euro. If you bring them here legally, they will cost you import duties, but I’m sure that you will end up making a profit on the deal. Current Erminia items sell for around two thousand Euro each in Rome and Paris.”

They shook hands on the deal and then stood and hugged. Luigi was watching all of this with interest. He then asked the question that was on his mind.

“So, Miss Fawcett. How did Clement die?”

“From what the police told us when we identified the body, he had been shot in the back. He was found, wrapped in plastic, in the Transit van he had borrowed. The odd thing is that he was in a gang with another four guys running the smuggling. There was no sign of their bodies, but their trawler was found north of here, drifting. There was blood stains in it, along with a set of mixed stains on the rear deck ramp, where they used to run out the fishing net.”

He smiled, along with his father.

“You know who we are, and that we have been involved in the Camorra for three generations. What you have just described has happened countless times in Napoli. If it talks like a gang, looks like a gang, it can’t be a duck!”

“I wondered why it looked like a total elimination, but there has been no sign of another gang.”

“What they wanted was to rid themselves of an unwanted itch. I would think that they are heavily into drugs, rather than cigarettes. They may be transporting women for their brothels. It works both ways, you know. English women are much prized in European whore houses. Not that we have anything to do with that side of things. They had no more need to be around once they had scratched that itch.”

After that, the talk turned to how Susan would be moving the goods. She said that her mother had an old friend who ran a small chain of upmarket dress shops. She would get in touch to see if she wanted them. If the deal worked, Silvana insisted that Susan could be their importer in England, seeing that they had only concentrated on about a dozen shops in Europe.

It was decided that Luigi and Silvana would pick us up at the farm in the morning. First so that Silvana could see where Clement had lived, and secondly to go to the police station to see if there was any problems claiming the rack of dresses. When we had claimed our coats, we both got hugs and cheek kisses from the three of them, with Luigi hugging me a bit longer than he had with Susan.

As she drove us back to the farm, I had to wonder about being on friendly terms with a mafia family. Especially the feelings I was having for one special boy. I can’t help it; I always had a soft spot for bad boys.

I had a fitful night and needed some extra concealer when I dressed for breakfast. Susan looked worse than I felt.

“Bad night?”

“A bit. I may have been too hasty last night. I haven’t spoken to my mother in two years, and now I have to be nice to her so that she introduces me to her friend.”

“Why can’t you go directly to the friend?”

“I suppose I could. I’m feeling a bit vulnerable still. I’ll see if she remembers me once we have some more details from Silvana.”

When the brother and sister arrived, we showed them into the old farmhouse. Neither of us had been inside the living area since the police had been. I wasn’t surprised at how they’d left the lounge, with the file drawers empty and hanging open, the desk upended to see if there was a secret hiding place, and smears of fingerprint powder everywhere. The bedroom was no better. I had a look in the new downstairs bathroom to see the cistern top on the floor.

The others acted as if they had seen all of this before, but it made Susan angry. I had to tell her that the searchers were just doing their jobs and Luigi backed me up.

“You will want to pull the place down, Susan, what does it matter how they left it. You’ll just have to clean anything you want to keep.”

Back in her house, we showed them the case of Euro notes. We double checked the amount and Silvana produced a proper invoice listing a hundred and ten dresses, Erminia label remainders, and wrote the amount on it and then marked it as paid and signed it with today’s date. I didn’t have to force my brain – if they were pulling two grand an item, Susan had just purchased two hundred grand’s worth of designer dresses. When she called her mothers’ friend, she would be in a position of power in the deal.

Silvana gave her the invoice, now the receipt, and smiled.

“Of course, Susan, once you start ordering current product the price will be the same as our other clients pay. Then, each dress is a standard twelve hundred Euro. When you get to that point, you should have the money behind you to be able to pay in advance.”

They hugged on the deal and then Luigi drove us to the police station. I asked to see the Inspector and he came out to talk to us. I could see that he was uncomfortable with being too friendly with a known mafia member, but I took his arm and pulled him to one side.

“Inspector, when I was in that shed at the docks, there was a rack with dresses on it. They were an advance shipment of dresses that Silvana and her sister make, all legitimate. Clement had brought them in along with his other contraband. They were a small part of a larger order and we have just completed a deal with Susan completing the purchase of the shipment. She will pay any taxes or import costs on that racks’ contents along with the rest of the shipment. What we are here for is to check that the rack is as it left Italy and that you talk to customs about getting it released.”

“All right. For you, Maxine, we can do it. If all the customs costs are paid, we can overlook that it was brought in illegally by a person now dead. Let’s go and see if we can get it out of the evidence room. It’s taking up a lot of space there, anyway.”

He got everyone ID tags and then led us to the evidence room, where the rack did take up a lot of space. Silvana pulled every zipper to check that the dress was one of hers and we verified that there were twenty on the rack. Susan rang Roy and asked if he had a small van she could borrow for a couple of hours. She and Luigi went off to collect it while Silvana and I organised for the rack to be taken out to the station car park.

It had been the first time the two of us were alone, and we talked as we waited for the others to come back. She admitted that it would have been an embarrassment had her friends found out that her husband had been a bigamist, but his death had solved that problem, and she would be able to carry on with her life as a grieving widow until she found another man in her life. By the time the others returned, we were talking about our favourite clothes and had a lot in common.

When the rack had been put into the van, we all went back to the farm, with Susan driving, Silvana in the passenger seat, and Luigi and I in the back to stop the rack from falling over on the corners. Most of the time he was stopping me rolling around by holding me close.

Marianne Gregory © 2024