Mister Dingledine by Robert F. Clifton (short novels in english .TXT) 📖

such as you I would think that you would prefer your coffee black,” said Alberta.

“I must confess to having a sweet tooth, as they say.”

“I see, now just what do you wish to know about Mister Dingledine?, she asked.

Bernhardt smiled. “Let’s start with the relationship between the two of you, he said.

“Platonic at best,” she answered.

“Really, I’ve been told that you and he have lunch together at the same table nearly every day at school.”

“He is a member of the faculty. All of us eat at the same time. Us sharing a table means absolutely, nothing.”

“Possibly to you, not so to others. There is even the possibility of an amorous liaison between you two.”

“I can’t imagine where or how you could make such a conclusion.”

“Well, the fact that you and Herbert Dingledine had meetings at the public library on certain Saturdays and toured the local museums together points in that direction.”

“Sergeant, I’ll have you know that I am a respectable, young lady. Mister Dingledine at one time was married. His wife died recently. Nonetheless, I assure you there was nothing remotely inappropriate in our relationship.”

“The fact that his wife died recently is why I’m here talking to you today.”

“What do you mean? It’s been said that his wife died from a case of botulism.”

“I know what’s been said. Now, tell me and believe me, what you say to me will be kept confidential. Tell me, was there any romantic notions on the part of Herbert Dingledine towards you?”

Alberta blushed. “Well, I must admit that he did attempt to woo me. Like I said. I am a lady.”

Bernhardt smiled. “Please explain the word, woo.”

“Very well. He more or less attempted to become a suitor. I must admit that at first I was flattered. However, due to the fact that he was a married man I resisted his advances.”

“Yet, you chose to keep his friendship.”

“Yes.”

“Why? Most women would be insulted by such actions from a married man.”

“I, I, I guess I felt sorry for him,” Alberta stammered.

“I see. Well, I think we’ve talked enough for one day. I’ll be in touch if I need to talk to you again. Now, then give me the check. Your tea and crumpet is being paid for by the Philadelphia Police Department.”

******************

 

Two weeks later Detective Sergeant Frank Bernhardt sat at his desk reading a laboratory report. “Analysis of blood, hair and tissue samples from the deceased, Ethel Thompson Dingledine, submitted, examined and tested produced the following: All samples tested revealed a large amount of arsenic-containing copper. It is possible that the subject, Ethel Thompson Dingledine ingested low amounts of arsenic over a period of time resulting in her eventual death.

Tests conducted of the canned string beans,(green) resulted in small traces of arsenic being found. Examination of the jar containing string beans, (yellow) found no traces of arsenic.

Tests were also conducted for the presence of botulism. These tests were negative.”

Bernhardt smiled. “ So, it appears that the little man got tired of waiting for his wife to either divorce him or die. His affair with Alberta Collins gives him a motive. Actually, Alberta knows more than she’s telling. I’ll work on her later. Right now, I need to find the source of the arsenic. I’ll get a search warrant.”, he thought.

Two days later Herbert stood in the sunshine in his backyard as police detectives after searching his home then began searching his tool shed. “I’ve got it!” said a detective, to Sergeant Bernhardt. The Sergeant walked to the doorway of the shed and took a green, cardboard container of Berger’s Paris Green, marked poison. He then walked back to where Herbert stood watching.

“What can you tell me about this,” asked The Sergeant.

“I use it to kill garden pests, rats, and mice,” said Herbert.

“Well, for the time being, I have another use for it,” said Bernhardt.

“Such as?”, asked Herbert.

“Such as evidence in accordance with your wife’s death.”

“What are you inferring, Sergeant?”

“Not a thing sir. Any inference about your wife’s death will come from the County Prosecutor, not from me.”

After the police left. Herbert tossed his copy of the search warrant onto the kitchen table. “A search warrant? Of all things. It’s the same as accusing me of being responsible for Ethel’s death. Me, the one who waited on her hand and foot. Sure, she was a constant pain in the ass and I certainly wished her dead many times, but I would never kill her. After all, my plan was To seek a divorce when the time was right. That way I would have been free legally to marry Alberta. Divorce was never mentioned because Ethel died before I could discuss it with her. Even the doctor at the hospital said her death appeared to have been caused by food poisoning. Now, the police are generalizing. I believe that they are manufacturing evidence to be used against me. Am I afraid? No, because I didn’t do anything. My only transgression was in seeing Alberta. Still, no infidelity took place. Basically, I did nothing wrong. Nothing at all,” he thought.

The next day Herbert stood helplessly in the faculty lunch room. Alberta sat having lunch with Tom Fisher and Margaret Binder. She ignored him completely pretending he wasn’t even in the room. With his feelings hurt he made his way to a table in the far end of the room. There he sat and tried to eat his sandwich. He could only manage to take a few bites, then soon learned that he had lost his appetite. He placed the rest of the lunch back into the brown paper bag, got up and as he was leaving tossed the bag into the garbage container.

Faculty members were required to work on campus from eight o’clock in the morning until four PM. At three forty-five PM, Herbert made his way out of his classroom, then the school building he then walked swiftly to the corner of the street knowing that Alberta would arrive there and wait for the trolly to take her home. At four fifteen he saw her approaching, walking slowly using one hand to raise the hem of her skirt in order not to get it soiled from the sidewalk. When she saw him, she stopped. Then, with a bothered look on her face approached him. “Herbert? What are you doing here?”, she asked.

“I need to speak with you.”

“We have nothing to say.”

“Alberta, how can you say such a thing? What has happened? Did I do something wrong? If so please tell me so I can rectify the situation.”

“To tell you the truth Herbert, I don’t know what you did or what you’re doing. I do know that whatever it is it brought the police to my home. They questioned me Herbert. Questioned me about you and us. They seem to know about our meeting at the library and the museums. How could they know that Herbert? How?”

“Very simple. Mr. Jennings told them about us visiting art museums seeking paintings in relation to your Shakespeare lesson plan. He told me right after the detective left the building.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to upset you. Besides what we did was innocent.”

“You and I know that, but others may think differently.”

“Then let them.”

“It’s not as easy for a woman Herbert. I have my reputation to protect.”

“And I appreciate that Alberta. Haven’t I always behaved like a gentleman when I’m with you?”

“Yes, still, with the police asking questions about the two of us it places me in a precarious position.”

“How so?”

“You were married at the time. Remember?”

“I’m single now.”

“Please Herbert. Right now I’m very confused. Here comes my trolly. Goodby.”

Late that night Herbert sat alone in the dark living room. Deep in thought, he wondered just what had gone wrong with his relationship with Alberta. “She is not the same. Why? I’ve searched my mind repeatedly in an attempt o find the cause of her indifference. Is it because of the police questioning her? What difference does that make? We’re both adults and as I have reasoned before, nothing out of the ordinary ever took place. She knows that. Then, why has she pushed me away? At one time she told me that we had to wait a year. I disagreed but gave in to her requests. Now, she’s different. Why?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

Theodore Henderson

 

Herbert Dingeldine sat on a cot with his back against a brick wall. He stared at a cockroach that attempted to climb the partition across the jail cell only to see it go up approximately three feet then lose it’s footing and fall to the concrete floor. Then, it would try to climb again.

The sound of footsteps caused Herbert to turn his head. Then, he saw the Turnkey who stood unlocking the cell door. “Alright Dingledine, get up. Your lawyers here to see you,” said the Turnkey.

“Lawyer? I don’t have a lawyer. Even if I did I couldn’t pay him. I don’t know what this is all about,” he thought as he walked to the now, open jail cell barred door. He followed the Turnkey down a hallway and as he did he glanced at the cells on both sides of the hall, seeing most of them empty. Others held prisoners, arrested for various crimes. Near the end of the hallway, the jailer stopped and opened the door and said, “Here is your client sir. Just call for me when you’re finished.”

“Thank you, officer,” the man replied.

Herbert stood looking at a tall, handsome, slim man. He judged him to be in his mid-thirties. He was attired in a dark blue suit, white shirt, collar and black tie. The man was clean shaven. “Mister Herbert Dingledine?”

“Yes?”, Herbert answered weakly.

“My names is Theodore Henderson, Attorney At Law. I have been appointed by the court to represent you.”

“I see. Forgive me, but I have no idea why I’m here or even why I was arrested. They’re accusing me of killing my wife. Something that I didn’t do.”

“We’ll discuss that part of your case in just a while. Right now, be advised that I have read the indictment against you. I have requested that you post bail. That request was denied by the court. That means, unfortunately, that you must remain here in the city jail until such time your case is brought up on the judge's calendar.

“Now, let’s get to the facts. I want you to know that anything you tell me is protected under the law as a lawyer, client privilege. So, Herbert, let me warn you. My job is to represent you in court and to convince a jury of twelve men that you are innocent. In order to do that I must know everything. We, you and I can not be subjected to any surprises by the prosecution.

So now, I’ll come right to the point. Did you kill your wife, Ethel Thompson Dingledine?

“No, sir. I did not.”

“Very well. I have not had the time to read and go over the State’s case. I assure you that I will. Once I know what and why they’re accusing you of this crime then and only then can I prepare your defense. Unfortunately, while I’m doing that you must sit and wait here in jail. My only advice to you sir is be confident in the fact that I am working in your best interest. Do you have any questions?”

“No, not at the moment. I’m sure that right after you leave a thousand questions will come to mind,” Herbert replied.

“Well then, try to remember them. It was nice meeting you Herbert,” said Henderson extending his hand in friendship.

“Thank you, sir. Thank you for coming.”

“My pleasure. Turnkey!” Henderson called.

**************

Ten days passed and then Herbert met with his attorney again. Herbert? How are they treating you?’, asked Henderson.

“Fine. I'm used to bathing nightly. Here, I get a shower once a week. The food is bad. Breakfast consists of a hard boiled egg. Dry toast and a cup of black coffee. This morning, my hard boiled egg had no yolk. There’s no such thing as