The Necklace

I had not been looking forward to the encounter, but it's one of the many crosses you have to bear in my profession. The victim of an unsolvable crime that had for some years laid dormant in our files, had asked to meet with the investigating officer and... well, technically that was supposed to be me.

But with no witnesses to the crime it-self and no further evidence coming to light in the years since the crime had taken place and it being doubtful that any ever would. Then I feared the case was one of the many that would forever lie amongst our un-cleared-up files.

"Mr Thomas, good morning. Take a seat please." I said when the gentleman was shown into my office.

"Good morning Sergeant." He replied formally, placing the briefcase he carried on the floor beside it as he took the chair I'd indicated.

"Well sir, I gather that you have been enquiring as to whether we'd made any progress in your case."

"Yes well, I am just a little curious."

I looked down at the unimpressively thin file of papers lying on the desk before me. I hadn't been part of the original investigating team at the time, but I had read through the papers thoroughly in preparation for this encounter. That's what I knew it was going to be... an encounter, between helpless detective and a victim he could do nothing for. As far as I could tell the investigating officers at the time had asked all the right questions and looked in all the right dark corners. The problem was, all I'd be able to tell him was that there literally was "Nothing to go on!" A phrase that I feared I'd repeat several times during the encounter.

I figured that my best course of action was to summarise the case and what we had. Then let Peter Thomas ask any questions he wished. Only, I doubted he would come up with any that hadn't been already asked, numerous times.

"For reasons we can't ascertain. And because of your injuries you are unable to remember." I added, taking a quick glance over the desk at Thomas. "On the morning of Tuesday 14th of April you left your office at approximately ten-thirty. We have no idea where you went or why. However, by eleven-thirty or there about, you were in the lower level stairwell of the town centre car park. Two ladies... Their car park ticket was timed in at eleven twenty-two by the way, were entering the stairwell on the fifth deck, at what we believe was eleven-thirty, when they heard what they, correctly, took to be, several gunshots. Frightened by the sound they ran back out onto the fifth floor level and called the police on a mobile phone.

"Officers arrived on the scene at eleven-forty and you were quickly discovered lying on the landing between the ground and first floor levels, with three bullet wounds. One to your head, and two to your chest. Your wallet, watch, rings, car keys, and even the small change from your pockets had been stolen. Nobody saw your assailant, or assailants, or anybody else behaving suspiciously around the car park, either before or after you were attacked.

"I'm very sorry to say Mr Thomas that there was very little to go on. I've read through the file and to be brutally honest with you sir... There were no witnesses and... well we had nothing to go on."

"So you stopped looking?"

"Oh no sir, the case remains open. And, if the weapon, it was a.35 mm automatic by the way, probably what the Americans like to refer to as a Saturday night special. Not particularly powerful, and to that fact alone you probably owe your life. But if it gun shows up, or is used again in another crime... Well then at least we will have somewhere to start. These street muggings are very difficult nuts to crack Mr Thomas. If the culprit uses the same modus operandi regularly, then there's a chance we can tie several cases together and come up with something. Street robbery's using a gun are rare in this country anyway, in your case we very much suspect that most likely the gun went off by mistake and the culprit panicked when he realised that he'd shot you. If he has any sense he'll probably have ditched the weapon in the river or something. But the case remains open in the files."

So you have stopped looking!" He repeated.

"Well I can't see that we can do much more that what was done at the time, Mr Thomas." I replied looking down at the open file again, then for some reason -- probably to remind myself how much of a blind ally the investigating officers had been up against -- I flicked through a couple of pages.

"Whenever another investigating officer is transferred into the department. He goes through all the current open files with a fresh eye; you know I came to see you last year myself. We were hoping that you might have been able to recall some detail of your movements that morning... But as you know...

"We've looked into..." I had a quick rethink about what I intended to say. "We've investigated everybody who might have had a grudge against you, but there was nothing. We even went as far as checking with the insurance companies to see if... But the only large policies on your life were not of a suspicious nature. You'd taken two of them out many years before to cover your mortgage and... well the same standard policies I hold on my own life to look after my family in the event of anything unexpected happening.

"Sir the officers on the case at the time, had absolutely nothing to go on. They had to come to the conclusion that it was just a random mugging. I'm sorry to have to admit that unless some further evidence comes to light that suggests that it wasn't, then I very much doubt the case will ever be solved."

Having read the report thoroughly, I felt really sorry for the man. The three wounds he'd suffered had been serious, and had it been a larger weapon, the one to his head would certainly have proved fatal. As it was, he'd been left in a coma on a life support machine for three years with the doctors assuring everybody that he would never come out of it. Actually after eight months, and with a court order, the life support machine had been switched off. But Peter Thomas had surprised the quacks by continuing to breath. However they said that with so little brain activity... Well, the docs thought he'd remain in the coma forever. And even if he did wake-up, then he'd probably be little more than a cabbage.

At one time an attempt had been make to obtain a Court Order allowing the withdrawal of sustenance from Peter Thomas; however that had been refused. However nowhere in the file did it state exactly whom had instigated the application for that order, nor did it give any indication of whom or which organisation had objected to it. Unfortunately -- from a policeman's perspective -- there is rarely an "Ah-ha!" moment with such applications. All sorts of people are often involved on both sides of the argument. Family members, doctors and even hospital authorities -- or to be more precise and hidden behind much gobbledygook, their accountants -- can all have influence over the decision to apply for such an order.

After two years, even his family had appeared to give up hope that Peter Thomas would ever regain consciousness. Whilst visiting her husband at the hospital, his wife had apparently struck up a friendship with a man by the name of William Bowman.

Bowman's wife had been admitted to the same hospital suffering from acute liver failure caused by the excessive self-administration of para-acetylaminophenol. Everyday Paracetamol tablets to the likes of you and I, and the most common cause of liver failure in the UK and numerous other countries I should imagine.

By all accounts it wasn't an attempted suicide or anything; reputedly Bowman's wife was a bit of a hypochondriac and... Well, shall we say a little delicate mentally, and at the same time she was of a rather highly stung nature. It was ascertained -- yes, the officers on Thomas's case were looking at every angle, even at that late stage -- that William Bowman's wife had accidentally overdosed herself with Paracetamol.

Exactly when a romance developed between the William Bowman and Mrs Thomas, there's nothing in the files to indicate and there is no indication that William Bowman and Mrs Thomas even knew of each other's existence before they encountered each other in the long term care facility. However after Bowman's wife had passed on, he and Mrs Thomas stayed in touch; Bowman often sitting with Mrs Thomas, during her long vigils at her husband's bedside.

Eventually the inevitable happened; they fell in love. Mrs Thomas divorced her husband and then married William Bowman. The officers on Thomas's case took another long hard look at Bowman and Mrs Thomas, but could come up with nothing that showed that either knew that the other existed until the first Mrs Bowman suffered her liver failure.

Why did I know all this? Because it was all in Peter Thomas's file. Just because we officially considered the attack on him had been a mugging. That shouldn't be taken to imply that we'd closed our eyes to any other possible scenarios.

Another eighteen months or nearly two years passed, before Mr Thomas had defied all medical opinion and came out of his coma. Officers had been at his bedside within hours of receiving the news. But to begin with, Peter Thomas suffered from acute amnesia and had very little memory of his adult life. Over the following months his he regained most of his memories.

Was I glad that I hadn't been the officer on the case when he recalled his marriage in detail, and... Well shit, he was obviously aware that his wife had divorced him whilst he'd been unconscious, before he'd even recalled that they'd been married. The doc's had had the pleasure of informing him of that fact. But weren't I pleased that I hadn't been around at the time of that exposé.

----

"So you see Mr Thomas unless a witness turns up from somewhere or some new evidence comes to light. Or you regain some memory of exactly what happened that particular morning, I'm sorry but very much doubt, we'll ever make any further progress with the case."

I kinda hoped that was going to be the end of the interview. But Peter Thomas had an odd expression on his face, that made me ask.

"You haven't remembered anything further, have you?" I asked.

"No, however I do believe I have found some evidence... Well, I suppose you could say that I've found a witness really." He smiled back at me; then his expression turned grim.

Peter Thomas picked up his briefcase and placed it on his lap. Opening it he produced a framed photograph and handed it to me to look at.

I was a little surprised to find that picture was of his daughter and her husband on their wedding day. I even thought I recalled seeing it before, when I'd visited their house whilst familiarising myself with the Thomas case.

Standard procedure is to re-interview everyone possible when you take over a cold case; just in to ensure something hasn't been overlooked.

"Your daughter and her husband." I said, to let Peter Thomas know that I'd recognised his daughter. "She's a very beautiful young lady."

"Thank you. What do think of the jewellery she's wearing?"

"Expensive, real diamonds are they?"

"Yes, my wife's. At least fifty grand's worth at today's prices."

"Impressive, I hope they are kept securely locked away?"

"I had a hidden second safe put into the house, to store them in. The pendant I bought my wife on our fifth wedding anniversary."

"Lucky lady, my wife would kill for a pendant like that."

A strange expression crossed Mr Thomas's face again.

"I had the matching earrings made for our tenth anniversary!"

"Very impressive. They must have cost a fortune!"

"They did. But not as much as the necklace I had made to our fifteenth anniversary. The tiara my daughter is wearing is actually the necklace, it fits onto a wire frame. When it's worn as a necklace the pendant can attached to it, with a little clip. Or as you can see, the pendant can be worn separately on its own chain."

"Very adaptable, and a skilled craftsman must have made it." I commented.

"Certainly, a little man who has a workshop on Monk Street. Coleman; do you know him?"

"I know of him, Mr Thomas. But on my salary, my wife is very unlikely to ever find something of his residing in her jewellery box." I replied with a smile.

"Quite, I'm sorry. Anyway, that jewellery my daughter is wearing is my witness!"

"I'm sorry?" I had no idea what Peter Thomas was referring to.

"Well, you see Sergeant. My wife lent that jewellery to our daughter so she could wear it on her wedding day. As you are aware, I've done alright for myself over the years and my wife had plenty of other jewellery she could wear. She couldn't outshine the bride on her wedding day anyway, could she?"

I nodded in agreement with Peter Thomas, even if I had no idea where he was leading me. Sometimes it's better to let folks tell it in their own way.

"Well regretfully before she returned the jewellery my daughter must have tried to fit the pendant back onto the necklace and she slightly damaged the clip that secures it in place. I noticed it when I took the set out to have a look at it. You know, that our twentieth was coming up and, I suppose I was wondering whether Coleman could add anything further to the set.

"Silly idea really; the whole ensemble is really much too ostentatious. There weren't many occasions when my wife could get away with wearing it. Although Lydia does like to... No, sour grapes must not be brought into the equation!"

"I'm sorry sir, but I really don't understand where this is leading." I finally had to admit.

"Oh no, I'm sorry Sergeant. I haven't shown you this picture yet."

Peter Thomas removed a second framed photograph from his briefcase and handed it to me. I immediately recognised that it was of his ex-wife and William Bowman, on their wedding day. What's more she was wearing the same jewellery that her daughter had been in the first photograph. Excepting the pendant was hanging from the necklace.

"You are aware that since I got out of hospital, I've been living down on the south coast. I rarely come up to town these days, and consequently I don't visit my daughter's home very often. Along with her husband and the children she usually comes down to see me about once a month or so. But a few months back they bought a new and much bigger house. I had reason to come to town to see my solicitor, to update my will; so I took the opportunity to call in on them unannounced.

"The why that I was at my daughter house is really unimportant. What is important was that my daughter hadn't been expecting me to arrive and consequently she had not, as was her usual won't, put that picture Lydia and her new husband away, as she had always done before my previous visits. My daughter was being diplomatic and knew that seeing a picture of Lydia with him would possibly upset me.

Peter Thomas suddenly went quiet and stared at the picture of his wife and Bowman's smiling faces for a while in silence.

"Very beautiful, isn't she, Sergeant?"

I had to agree with him.

"But unfortunately rather vain as well, and maybe that is going to lead to her down fall."

"I'm sorry Mr Thomas?"

"The necklace Sergeant. The pendant is attached to it in that photograph. I told you the clip was broken!"

----

"Come in Mrs Thom... sorry Mrs Bowman now isn't it? Take a seat please?"

"Sergeant why have I been so rudely summoned here like this? Your officers unnecessarily embarrassed me outside my place of employment." She replied, obviously annoyed.

"My apologies Mrs Bowman, but certain evidence has recently come to light regarding the attempt on your first husband's life."

She was good, I've give her that! However there was no mistaking the momentary flash of apprehension that flashed across the lady's face before she shot back at me.

"What are you talking about? Peter was accidentally shot by a mugger, the officers at the time assured me of that."

"On the evidence available to them at the time, that was the most probable scenario, Mrs Bowman. However we never know when knew evidence... or even a new witness suddenly coming forward, will lead us in another direction. Or one that has been looked at in the past, several times actually and we hadn't realised the significance of." I replied.

"I don't understand."

"I'm sure you will very shortly, Mrs Bowman."

I reached over and pressed the start button on the recorder. Then out loud for the recorder I identified myself and the male officer sitting beside me (taking notes) and the time and date; then, I asked Mrs Bowman to identify herself to the recorder. I must say that in a very few moments she'd turned from a very belligerent woman to a rather apprehensive looking one.

The formalities over, I showed Mrs Bowman a copy of the photograph of her with her second husband on their wedding day and asked her to confirm that that was what it actually was.

"Yes of course it is! What is this all about Sergeant?" She replied.

"Just a few loose ends that have recently caused us some confusion, Mrs Bowman. That I now have to clear up; that's all.

"Now, am I correct in my belief that your first husband purchased all of the jewellery you are wearing in that photograph, for you?"

"Yes, for various wedding anniversary's."

"And that it is the same jewellery that your daughter is wearing here in this photograph?"

I showed Mrs Bowman a copy of the other photograph Mr Thomas had supplied us with.

"Yes that's correct." She assured me.

"Tell me Mrs Bowman, did you by any chance have reason to wear any of that jewellery yourself in the three months between your daughter's wedding and the time Mr Thomas was shot."

"No, my daughter returned it and it was put back into my jewellery safe. Peter had the safe installed. He was paranoid that we might get burgled when we were out one evening."

"Did you wear it at all between your daughter's wedding and yours to William Bowman?"

"Well yes, after my divorce. I didn't go anywhere very much, with my husband lying in hospital. I might have worn the pendant and the earrings a few times when William and I went out after the divorce. But our wedding was the first time I wore the whole set. I really don't understand where you are going with these questions Sergeant?"

"Well you see Mrs Bowman, I have a problem. I've looked through the files several times and nowhere does it mention that your husband had on or about his person the case for that jewellery when he was found lying in that stairwell that day. But it has brought to my attention that just after eleven that morning Peter Thomas had collected the necklace and pendant from Coleman's the jeweller in Monk Street; the man who had originally made it. Apparently your daughter damaged a clasp or something, and Peter Thomas had taken the necklace to Coleman's to be repaired a few days previous. Mr Coleman is very diligent record keeper, Mrs Bowman; especially where thirty-thousand-pounds worth of diamonds are concerned. There is a time stamped, and dated copy of the receipt in his files.

"The question I have to ask you, Mrs Bowman, is how did you come to be possession of that jewellery again?"

"It is out belief that Mr Thomas had it a briefcase he was carrying the morning he was attacked. One on Coleman's assistants distinctly recalls watching Mr Thomas placing the jewellery inside the briefcase and locking it. However there are no records of a briefcase being recovered at the scene of the crime; the perpetrator apparently stole everything of value that your ex-husband had with him that day. So now, Mrs Bowman, would you care to explain to me how some of the contents of Peter Thomas's briefcase came into your possession?"

Mrs Bowman had turned very pale and remained silent. I hadn't expected her to breakdown completely and admit everything. But I got the feeling that if I pushed just a little bit harder she might do. But there always was the danger that I'd push a little too hard and she'd, as the Americans like to describe it, lawyer-up on me. Still, I had little in the way of hard evidence I was relying on the woman to crack. So I went for the kill.