Murder-De-Sac

by Jim Bennett

  Julie had been lost in her own thoughts when she became aware of a man’s voice with a bit more presence speaking from the hall.

  ‘Where is it?' he asked with professional detachment. Someone muttered a reply.

  ‘Very good. And the old lady?' The voice again responded, hopefully telling the man that she was in fact only forty two.

  ‘Right, body first, witness second’, he said. Julie heard their voices becoming more distant as they made their way upstairs. Dawn remained oblivious, giggling at some innocuous content on her smartphone.

  Julie listened to the police walking around upstairs. She wondered whether they had kept themselves confined to the crime scene, or whether they were moving through the house’s upper floor indiscriminately. Her question was answered with the flush of the toilet. It was less the invasion of privacy that bothered her and more the realisation that she hadn’t cleaned the bathroom floor in God knows how long.

  After a further wait of about fifteen minutes, a middle aged man appeared in the doorway of the kitchen with a young constable behind him. He took a step into the room and went to greet her, before seeing Dawn still sitting on her phone with a dopey smile plastered across his face.

  ‘DS Winnginton', he said threateningly.

  ‘Mmmm?' Dawn said, without looking up.

  ‘May I ask what it is that you are doing?'

  ‘Best dog videos of 2019. Absolutely fantastic’. So engrossed was Dawn in these entertaining canines, the introduction of a male voice to the proceedings hadn’t come to a surprise to her.

  ‘Dawn? I mean, DS Winnington?' The tall officer said from behind the inspector.

  ‘Yeah, in a minute'.

  ‘DS Winnington', the inspector shouted.

  Dawn jumped in her seat, dropping her phone on the table with a clatter.

  ‘Oh fuck', she said scrambling to her feet. She stood to attention with her hands behind her back. ‘Sorry sir. The victim, I mean, Mrs Giles had expressed a wish to have some time to herself to rest so I…', She paused to think. ‘So I was sending an urgent email that I hadn’t had a chance to before I came on duty’.

  ‘Was it to the producers of ‘Best Dog Videos of 2019?' He asked dryly. ‘Do you have urgent business with them?'

  ‘Right, yes, I forgot I’d said that. You see, after I’d sent the email…’

  ‘DS Winnington’, the inspector interrupted, ‘I’d very much like to get to the matter at hand. You might remember the reason we’re here?’

  He paused, until Dawn answered ‘yes, sir’.

  ‘Perhaps you share my view that this may be slightly more pressing than your dog video?' He paused again.

  ‘Yes sir’.

  His eyes lingered on her a few more moments before he turned his attention to Julie.

  ‘Mrs Giles', he said with the practised smile of sympathy. ‘My name is Detective Inspector Morris. This young man here is Detective Constable Rowntree’. His eyes returned to Dawn, still stood with her back absolutely perpendicular to the ground. ‘And I believe you have already met our Family Liaison Officer, DS Winnington. I know this must be a very distressing time for you, but I was hoping that you would be willing to answer a few questions’.

  Julie tried to speak and realised that her throat was impossibly dry. She immediately started to cough. After being prompted by her superior officer, Dawn provided Julie with a glass of water. Only then was she able to tell the inspector that yes, of course she would answer any questions he had.

  ‘Have you managed to get hold of his mum?' Julie said, chastising herself that she hadn’t thought to ask before now.

  The inspector nodded solemnly. ‘Mr and Mrs Harper were notified by their local police force and are travelling now to view the body'.

  Julie felt sick. It was impossible to imagine what it was like to lose a child, let alone finding out by some stranger knocking on your door. She realised that she would need to tell Harry. Maybe he would come home for the funeral. At least that was something to look forward to.

  ‘How did you know the young man in question?' The inspector asked, all business now.

  ‘He was a friend of my son’s. Jack, his name was Jack. He had found some work in the local area and had asked to stay with me'.

  The young constable took rapid notes in his police man’s notebook. Julie was surprised to see it. She had expected that they would all carry those little computers around with them now.

  ‘And how well did you know Mr Harper?’

  ‘Well, he was living in my house’. Julie began to wring her hands nervously in her lap. ‘We’d eat meals together when he wasn’t at work in the evenings, that sort of thing’.

  ‘There wasn’t another dimension to your relationship?' DI Morris stared at her with an intensity that made Julie feel uneasy. He looked short next to the beanpole constable standing next to him, but was probably around the five foot ten mark. There wasn’t a single hair on his pasty head, which made his dark bushy eyebrows and the full mustache on his top lip even more distinctive.

  ‘There were a few evenings when we would have a glass of wine together. Chat, that kind of thing’. Julie found herself nodding more than she normally would. She thought it might be a subconscious effort to try to convince the policeman that she wasn’t holding anything back. Unfortunately when she came to this realisation, she tried to overcompensate and then began to hold her head very rigidly facing forward and not moving it when it would have been natural to do so.

  DI Morris struggled to find the right words for a few moments. ‘What I am trying to ask you Mrs Giles is.'. He paused again. He looked pained even trying to get the words out of his mouth. ‘Was there a physical component to your interactions?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you’re asking me?’

  ‘Did you know one another carnally?'

  ‘Are you asking me if we had sex?'

  The inspector’s face flushed with such severity and so rapidly that anyone who hadn’t heard his preceding question would be forgiven for thinking that he was having a stroke.

  ‘That’s correct'. He stammered, averting his eyes for the first time.

  ‘I don’t see how that’s relevant’. She tried to sound indignant despite feeling embarrassed. It led to her shouting slightly.

  ‘It may have a bearing on our investigation', said DI Morris, who was clearly mortified at having to press the point.

  ‘If it ever does, I will answer the question'. Julie hoped she looked haughty instead of homicidal. She wasn’t sure if she was pulling it off.

  ‘I think it may already be'. He was recovering his composure now, remembering that it was in fact his job to ask such questions, and that he wasn’t doing it out of some perverse pleasure. ‘There is some evidence of sexual activity with the body'.

  ‘You mean after death?' Julie said, horrified that she was even being asked the question. ‘I’m very happy to give you a definite no on that one’.

  ‘Heavens no'. The detective became so flustered that he struggled to get his words out. ‘What I mean is… What I’m asking is…', He then started to cough uncontrollably, almost like he was allergic to situations this awkward.

  ‘There is some evidence that Mr Harper engaged in sexual activity shortly before his death', DC Rowntree interjected. The Detective Inspector didn’t look grateful for his young constable’s help, more annoyed that it had been necessary. He scowled at DC Rowntree, no doubt making a note to admonish him later for his impertinence.

  ‘Can I ask what evidence?' Julie said.

  ‘There were some used… contraceptives in the waste paper bin’, DI Morris said, taking command of the situation again. His face had contorted when he was forced to say ‘contraceptives’.

  ‘Right'. Julie said. ‘Yes then'. She saw no reason to deny it, embarrassing as it may be. It didn’t mean that she had killed him.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Yes we had sex. Once, drunk, the other day'.

  ‘And can I ask did you pay
Mr Harper for his services?'

  Julie once again looked agog. ‘No!' she said, now feeling genuinely outraged.

  ‘There was a large quantity of bills found in the victim’s bedroom'.

  ‘And because of that, you think he was a gigolo?'

  ‘It isn’t necessarily a ridiculous conclusion to come to’, the Detective Inspector said, now sounding a bit put out himself. ‘A young man living in the house of a…', he paused a second too long for Julie’s liking ‘an older woman that isn’t his relative. You can appreciate what the visual is like, I’m sure'.

  Julie continued to stare at him agast.

  ‘Or perhaps you were helping the victim find clients within the local area'.

  ‘I’m sorry, are you seriously asking me if I was his madam?'

  DI Morris raised an eyebrow at her, the question hanging in the air between them. ‘It’s not as unusual as you may think', he said finally.

  ‘I work in a garden centre!’

  ‘Not a very lucrative profession, is it? A little bit on the side would be very helpful. Fairly hard to afford a house of this size on a shop workers salary’.

  ‘If you must know, I used my husband’s life insurance to pay off the remainder of our mortgage’. Julie had hoped that this would throw the inspector off balance, but his glare remained. Clearly it was only bedroom matters that rendered him insensible.

  ‘Were you aware of Mr Harper’s financial situation?'

  ‘You mean all those notes? I asked him about it and he said that he had been doing a lot of gardening for the neighbours'.

  One of the inspector’s eyebrows raised.

  ‘I’m not saying it’s true. I’m just telling you what he told me'.

  ‘I see. Which neighbours was he providing gardening services for?'

  ‘Brian at number 30, and Mrs Sinclair at number 32'.

  ‘Are they especially big gardens?'

  ‘I have never had the pleasure of being invited into them, but if they’re anything like mine, then no, not that big'.

  ‘Make a note, Constable', DI Morris said, despite the fact that DC Rowntree had been taking notes of the entire conversation.

  ‘Can you think of anywhere else that Mr Harper may have received the funds from? You weren’t paying him for anything yourself?' Again the eyebrow was cocked.

  ‘He did a bit of painting for me. The outsides of the windows and the sill in the small bedroom, but that’s it'.

  ‘And you don’t know anyone with whom he associated?’

  The people he worked with maybe? And well, there was this man here the other day’.

  ‘Be specific please'.

  ‘The day before yesterday. When I got home from work, Jack was talking to a man on the doorstep. He handed him something before he left'.

  ‘An illegal substance?’

  ‘I don’t know, I didn’t see'.

  ‘Were you aware that Mr Harper used recreational drugs?'

  ‘I know that he smoked some…', Julie paused, realising that she might be about to implicate herself in something that she was actually guilty of.

  ‘Cannabis? Is that what you were going to say Mrs Giles?'

  She looked down at her lap guiltily.

  ‘Are you aware that Cannabis is a Class B drug, the possession of which can lead to up to 5 years in prison, an unlimited fine or both?’

  She didn’t know what to say, so remained silent.

  ‘Is it your belief that Mr Harper was selling drugs?’

  Julie was about to answer before being interrupted by the sound of raised voices in the hall.

  ‘I don’t bloody care what this is. I’m coming through boy’.

  There was a noise that distinctively sounded like someone being jabbed in the stomach with a walking cane and then Mrs McGrath appeared in the doorway of the kitchen.

  A moment passed when all five inhabitants of the room said nothing to each other. Julie started to feel anxious, as if it was her role to introduce everyone present and apologise for the old lady barging in. Then she remembered that Mrs McGrath wasn’t her responsibility, especially when she decided to rock up invited.

  ‘Hello Maz’, Mrs McGrath said, giving DI Morris a wicked little grin.

  The police inspector looked so incensed that his mustache started trembling with rage.

  ‘Mrs McGrath, you know full well…'.

  ‘Oh it’s Mrs McGrath now, is it?’

  He took a moment to compose himself. ‘Moira, I would appreciate it if you called me Detective Inspector Morris while I am undertaking official duties. Furthermore…’

  Mrs McGrath snorted derisively. ‘Furthermore! Hark at you'.

  ‘Now really isn’t the time’.

  Jimmy looked uncomfortable at this exchange, although there was something of a smile around the corners of his mouth. Meanwhile, Julie stared on with absolute incredulity. Dawn had also forgotten the stern professional stance she had taken at the arrival of DI Morris and instead was gawking with rapt abandon.

  ‘Calm down Maz, I’m not here for you. I’m here to be a good neighbour. Hello Jimmy', she smiled at the constable standing behind the Inspector. ‘How have you been?' The constable looked up and gave her a friendly nod before looking away from the quarrelling pair again.

  ‘Are the two of you well acquainted?' DI Morris asked Julie.

  ‘Yeah, me and her go way back’, Mrs McGrath answered before Julie could say anything.

  ‘You and who sorry?' he said, looking slyly.

  ‘Her sitting at the table. Next door neighbours, aren’t we?'

  ‘Could you confirm her name please?' DI Morris said with a clever little look on his face. ‘For our records'.

  ‘Piss off Maz'. she replied without missing a beat. ‘Who do you think you’re talking to? You don’t need to know someone’s name to know them'.

  ‘It is of no interest to me whether you two are bosom buddies or if you don’t know the woman from Adam. You have no rights in this house and you are not entitled to be present when the police formally question a witness, whatever you may think'.

  Mrs McGrath folded her arms. ‘Has she been arrested?'

  ‘Well’, he said, the mustache rustling again.

  ‘Because it would be very strange to arrest a suspect and then question them in their kitchen’.

  The inspector failed to think of a winning retort and the kitchen remained in silence.

  ‘Okay then’, Mrs McGrath said, clapping her hands and looking about the happiest that Julie had ever seen her. ‘While my neighbour is happy to aid your investigation, she is currently in shock. She will therefore be staying with me while you finish examining the crime scene. When she is feeling well enough, you can arrange a suitable time to meet with her again’. The words, professional and considered, sounded alien coming from Mrs McGrath’s mouth.

  The inspector said nothing in response. He just continued to stare at the old woman with absolute fury. Mrs McGrath took a step closer to Julie, and it was only then that she remembered that this farce was something that she was actually a part of. Events kept taking such strange turns that it was hard to reconcile them with real life.

  She stood up from her chair feeling befuddled.

  ‘Can you pack a bag?' Mrs Grath asked, addressing her for the first time.

  ‘I can, but I don’t really want to go upstairs again'.

  ‘Right', Mrs McGrath said, charging off in the direction of the stairs.

  ‘You can’t go up there’, the detective said, finding his voice again, ‘it’s a crime scene'.

  ‘Where do you keep your bras?' Mrs McGrath said, shouting the last word in the inspectors face. He immediately started to redden. ‘In your son’s bedroom?'

  Julie shook her head, although she didn’t think the insane old woman really wanted an answer.

  ‘What about your knickers?' Again, she directed the end of the sentence at the inspector in a voice slightly too loud for common discourse. ‘Keep any of those in his chest of drawers?'
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  Julie once again shook her head, although Mrs McGrath didn’t look at her. ‘We should be fine then, ey Maz?' She gave him a smile which could be mistaken for pleasant if you didn’t know Mrs McGrath and left the room.

  Julie took her keys out of her handbag and left them on the counter. ‘Could you lock the door when you leave please?' In their place, she picked up Jack’s back door key that he had carelessly deposited on the side.

  She left the three of them standing there in silence and went to wait for Mrs McGrath in the hall. There was still a steady stream of human traffic coming in and out of the house, men in those white plastic suits that you see on the television mainly. She noticed that the flowers she had brought home at work were in a sorry state, some of their stems broken. No doubt they had been a casualty of some particularly clumsy policeman.

  Mrs McGrath appeared at the top of the stairs. In one hand, she carried a gym bag that she had unearthed from God knows where. She knocked a few pictures askew as she descended, the staircase being too narrow to accommodate both the bag and her cane. As they went to leave, Julie saw Jack’s sandals on the rack by the front door. Shoes that this young man with his beautiful voice would never wear again. She felt unsettled, like something wasn’t quite right. Maybe it was because her lodger had died in the house the night before and now the place was full of police officers. It was then that for the first time since she had found Jack dead that she didn’t feel sick or panicked that there was a body in her house. She just felt sad.

  Chapter Ten

  Mrs McGrath dropped the gym bag at the bottom of the stairs and stomped off towards the kitchen. Julie stood immobile, taking her surroundings in.

  The positioning of everything in the house was an exact reflection of her own. Instead of the living room branching off to the left of the entryway, it was situated on the right, with the trend continuing for the rest of the house that was immediately visible. On this day especially, which was the strangest she had experienced so far, Julie found the effect incredibly jarring.