A/n: Spoilers for the end of the Marple episode A Pocketful of Rye. Enjoy!
It all fell out as Miss Marple said it would, not that it was easy or pleasant. Pat Fortescue had very nearly collapsed when her husband, Lancelot, confessed to the murder of not only his father and stepmother, but also the naïve maid whom Miss Marple had come to seek justice for in the first place. Pickford saw that the sobbing, brokenhearted Mrs. Fortescue was being seen to by Mrs. Percival Fortescue –nee Ruby Mackenzie- as they loaded Lancelot into the car and off to the station.
As far as Inspector Neele was concerned, there were simply far too many Mrs. Fortescues running amok, all of them in need of intense help or at the very least a seaside holiday. He did not envy the one remaining Mr. Fortescue, even if he would now be a very wealthy man due to the fact the Blackbird Mine was indeed, not worthless. Even better, his wife would feel justified that her father's money would wind up in her hands, even if her first intentions of marrying Percival Fortescue were solely for revenge.
Neele couldn't imagine wanting revenge for anything that badly.
However, when all was said and done it was a successful end to a tri-homicide, which made his superiors extremely happy, especially since they didn't know how much help he'd had from an old lady who could run circles around all of them. It did not, in particular, make his sergeant happy, as Pickford got stuck with most of the paperwork. Neele could hear him grumbling at his desk, cursing softly at his typewriter after an error. Neele leaned on the doorjamb and waited to be noticed.
"Come on, then, how much trouble are you going to cause me?" Pickford asked the typewriter. "Murders centered around blackbirds and nursery rhymes. Absolutely ridiculous. Just makes me hungry. I wish I could get my hands on some pie.""
Neele decided waiting was not the best strategy and cleared his throat. Pickford jumped, startled by the sound and glanced up at his superior.
"Sorry, sir! Didn't realize I was talking out loud. I'll have this report done up in a jiffy."
"No hurry, Pickford. I do believe everyone else has gone home for the night." Neele said easily.
"Oh. Right then. Still, it shouldn't be too much longer. Did you need me for something, sir?"
Neele fingered the small box he held behind his back. "Ah, not really. Just…here. It isn't pie, but I hope it will do." He said, handing the box to the younger man.
Pickford's eyes lit up like a child presented with the notion of Christmas. He took the small green box and looked at Neele hopefully. "For me, sir?"
"Well, yes. I suppose." The smell of chocolate wafted up to him as Pickford unwrapped the gift. "You did a good job on this case. This is just…I suppose it's a token of my appreciation. It's nothing fancy."
"It's perfect, sir. Blimey, I haven't had one of these in ages. Thank you, sir. I could almost kiss you."
Neele lifted a slender eyebrow. "I'd prefer that you didn't."
Pickford grinned. "Is there anything I can get you, sir?"
Neele shook his head "no", then hesitated. "Actually, if it isn't too much trouble, leave me one of the nutty ones, if you find one."