Free 04 - Carnival of Criminals by Evelyn James Page A

Mervin Grimes?”
    “Yes, he still bears a personalised ring he always wore.
His killer couldn’t get it off his hand. Oliver has a picture of Mervin showing
him wearing that ring. I’m sure, if necessary, we could find other proof. He
had some nice dentistry work for instance, perhaps we could find his dentist?”
    “Definitely murdered?”
    “I’m fairly confident. There is a bullet hole in his
chest, though of course it might be post-mortem. Only your coroner might be able
to say for certain.”
    Inspector Park-Coombs whistled softly through his
moustache. He was starting to feel the need for something much stronger than
just tea.
    “That name, Mervin Grimes, rings a bell.” He stood and
went to the wooden filing cabinet by his window. He opened a drawer and ran a
finger through a set of cardboard folders stored under the letter G, “Fifteen
years ago I had just been made an inspector.”
    He pulled out a folder and brought it across to the desk.
    “Ah yes, Mervin Grimes, petty criminal. Lowest of the
low, in my opinion. Ran with the Black Hand gang. Usual stuff, fixing races,
drug dealing, prostitution. Mervin was a bit handy with a knife and too quick
with his temper. We never caught him, but we were closing in when he vanished.
Around 1905 a big deal went down at the racetrack. A filly staked at 200 to 1
romped home and won. Needless to say people were suspicious, doping was
suspected. Mervin and other members of the Black Hand went home with bulging
pockets, which only confirmed our suspicions. Nothing we could do though. Quite
frankly I was rather glad when this Grimes fellow vanished. About the same time
the Black Hand disbanded and the members all went their merry ways.”
    “Does that mean you are not interested that he is dead?”
    “Not really. It solved a problem. So one criminal killed
another? In the scheme of things that makes my life easier and I have far too
many crimes involving law abiding citizens to want to waste my time on a
criminal who wound up dead.” The inspector tapped a thick forefinger on the
folder, “This is one to stay out of Clara.”
    “Whatever the nature of the man, he was murdered.”
    “Stay out of it. Criminals kill each other all the time.
Sometimes we nab the killer, a lot of times we don’t.”
    Clara appreciated the inspector’s sentiments, but she
also knew Oliver was not going to let this rest, and she also suspected she
would find it difficult to sleep at night until she had settled the tragedy of
Mervin Grimes. Whoever he was in life, his corpse told a pretty depressing
tale. Murdered and then presented as a carnival attraction. However you looked
at it that was not a very respectful way to treat the dead. Mervin might have
been a thug, but if you only meted out justice to the righteous what sort of
person did that make you? What sort of society? Clara fully understood the
inspector had more cases than he had time to solve them in, and he had to pick
and choose which occupied him the most. But that was not the same with her. If
she turned down Mervin Grimes’ case, what was her excuse other than she
couldn’t care less about a dead thug? Clara felt that would make her a pretty
poor detective.
    “Does that folder mention next of kin?”
    “Clara, this is not a case you want to involve yourself
in.” Park-Coombs was pleading now.
    “I just wondered if there was a family who might like to
know what became of Mervin. Maybe even to bury him.”
    Park-Coombs knew that wasn’t the full story, but couldn’t
argue with her compassion. He flicked open the folder and then wrote out a name
and address on a slip of paper.
    “His mother. Don’t get into trouble.” He said as he
handed it over.
    “The man has been dead 15 years, what trouble could there
be?” Clara slipped the paper into her handbag, “Does that file say what the
police thought had happened to Mervin?”
    “I think official opinion was that he had gone to London.
We reported this to the boys