Spoken Bones

by N. C. Lewis

  Chapter 9

  Fenella climbed into the back of the patrol car. The scent of aftershave and wet dog hit her nose hard. Noel O'Sullivan sat next to Barkie, his Irish Setter. The cramped space didn't bother the dog, not by the volume of its gruff snores. But Noel looked hot and tired. His leather jacket rested in his lap and she noticed the gold crucifix on the back. Rain slapped the windows and drummed in hard plops on the doors.

  Fenella said, "Tell me what you saw on the beach."

  He flashed a smile that would make a married woman weak at the knees. "Where to start?"

  Only three words, but Fenella took in his twang and guessed Texas, tried to slow her beating heart and said, "How about you start just before you reached the bonfire?"

  "An ordinary day to begin with. I was out for my dawn stroll with the dog." Noel's lips twitched at the corners as though about to laugh, or cry. He did neither. "I met Mrs Collins on the beach and we walked the sands at dawn."

  "Who is Mrs Collins?"

  "Elizabeth is a dear friend and dawn walker, like me. Most days I walk the length of the beach. Not all of it, just from the dunes near the bonfire to the pier." He pointed towards the lighthouse. But sheets of rain hid it from view. "Today, I'd planned to walk all the way to the pier with Elizabeth, but at the last minute recalled an early appointment. So, I doubled back on myself to the bonfire where"—his voice trailed off to an indistinct mumble—"dear God, what a terrible sight. Who in their right mind would do such an evil thing?"

  Fenella waited several seconds. "And what is it you do, Mr O'Sullivan?"

  "Noel, please." His lips lifted to reveal dazzling straight white teeth. "I'm a pastor at the local Free Evangelical. We meet on the beach. Mine is a small but sweet flock."

  Fenella took in his easy eyes. It wouldn’t be hard to whisper secrets into his soft ears. She had wanted to be a priest when she was young. Not a nun or even a monk but a priest. At the time, it wasn't possible, and she'd met Eduardo and joined the police. Now she served her flock at the high altar of crime so townsfolk could sleep easy in their beds at night.

  "Noel," she said, using his first name. "Please go on."

  He smiled. "I've settled into a routine. I suppose we all do in the end. So much of life is lived on automatic, and that's what happened this morning, why I forgot the meeting."

  "Unusual, then, this morning meeting?"

  "Well, yes, it was outside of my usual routine, if that is what you are asking." He paused and again smiled. Fenella realised it was a habit of his. A practised smile which did not match the strange stare in his eyes. "I normally take those type of appointments at the weekend."

  "And what type of appointment are we talking about, Noel?"

  "I really can't see the importance of it."

  "It helps us build a big picture."

  "With a… well… related to church."

  Wouldn’t a pastor expect to be called on all hours by the faithful? Fenella rolled that over in her mind and said, "Can you give me the name of the person you met?"

  His jaw tightened. "Confidential, I'm afraid."

  "We'll need to speak with the individual to confirm the facts. Just routine procedure, so we can check a box."

  He gave an uneasy smile. "Am I a person of interest?"

  Fenella ignored the question. What secrets hid behind his polished teeth?

  "I'll not press you on a name right now," she said. "But I will come back to it if it is material, agreed?"

  Noel waited two beats. "Agreed."

  He let out a breath and relaxed. Barkie let out a contented snort. They watched the sleeping dog in silence for a minute.

  Fenella said, "Can you at least confirm whether your appointment was with a man or woman?"

  Noel blinked. "I can't see the—"

  "Man or woman?" Fenella spoke slowly.

  A pulse leaped in his neck. He stared at Barkie, then let his eyes drift to the floor.

  "Detective Inspector Sallow, I—"

  Fenella said, "In confidence. It will not go beyond these car doors."

  "A… a… well, a woman." He sat up, but his shoulders curved as if under a great weight. "We'd arranged to meet at eight thirty."

  Of course, she thought, a meeting with a man wouldn’t be so painful to admit. "Let's get back to the beach. You discovered the body and called the police straight away?"

  "Well, not exactly."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I called the police, but it was the screams that froze my blood. And then Barkie started whining." He pointed through the fogged-up window at the crime scene tent. "I hurried to the bonfire and found her crying."

  "I'm not with you."

  "Detective Inspector Sallow, I didn’t discover the body, Mrs Audrey Robin did."

  Chapter 10

  They found Audrey Robin in the back of the ambulance. She sat with her head in her hands. A sharp antiseptic tang mixed with the smell of fried onions and hot dog hung in the air.

  "Hello, luv," Fenella said flashing her warrant card. "I'm Detective Inspector Sallow. And that handsome young man standing outside in the rain is my sidekick, Detective Constable Jones. Are you okay to answer a few questions?"

  Audrey stared with blank eyes. Her cheeks were stained with dried tears, eyes red raw. A medical blanket was draped over her shoulders. Late thirties, Fenella thought, and no ring, not that a wedding band counts for much these days. Still, it is Mrs Robin, and with her large glasses and fur-like hair, she looks like a timid mouse or clever owl. Fenella was torn between the two.

  "Hey!" a voice yelled from the front. "Who let you in here? I'm responding to a medical emergency. Now get out or I'll have the union on your tail."

  A paramedic glared from the front seat. Fenella realised her mistake. Should have asked for permission before she entered the vehicle. Now the bugger's got a face like a wet Wednesday in January.

  "Just a few questions for Mrs Robin." Fenella kept her voice light. "Then we'll be out of your hair."

  The paramedic said, "Why don't you give her a break?" He held a half-eaten hot dog in his hand. "The lady doesn't need a grilling. You lot poking into her business will not do her health any good. Can't you see she is in shock and confused?"

  "Is that what you would like, luv?" Fenella spoke in soft tones as she settled next to Audrey. "We can come back later, but best to get it over with now."

  "And close the bleedin' door on your way out," yelled the paramedic. "Look what you let happen on the beach, and on Bonfire Night too! Supposed to burn bloody Guy Fawkes, not innocent little old grannies. We don't want none of that murderin' in here."

  Fenella nodded at Jones. He shrugged, then shut the doors, but remained just outside in the rain where he gave the thumbs-up. She liked that. No fuss and he waited nearby like a loyal Labrador. He'll do too, Fenella thought. And it will be fun to mentor a bloke who could pass as a fitness instructor. That triggered another thought—she'd encourage Eduardo back to the gym, have Nan cut down on his portion size, and she'd take an extra Pilates class to flatten the flab on her stomach. Maybe even encourage her daughter, Katherine, to sign Winston up for his local track and field club; he'd gotten too fond of pancakes for his own good. Jones wasn’t just a pretty face. He was Mr Motivation too.

  Fenella gave the paramedic a friendly smile and kept the beam on her face for Audrey. "I'm here to listen," she said. "Now, what do you say, luv, can we talk?"

  Audrey looked at her hands and she looked out the small steamed-up window of the ambulance, then she looked at Fenella and nodded.

  Fenella began with a simple question. "You were on the beach this morning?"

  "Yes. I walk the beach most mornings at dawn, a regular, I suppose you'd call me." Audrey gave a little cough, her voice dry and hoarse. "Don't think I'll be doing that for a while. I mean… it might have been me."

  "You ought to be out there catching bleedin' criminals so she can feel safe on the beach," grumbled the paramedic. "Not in here in the warm, pestering a
sick woman!"

  Fenella had patience, but this individual was testing her limits. "Where is your colleague?"

  "Oh, so I'm now part of your investigation, am I, Mrs Sherlock?" A dry laugh. "Gone for a hot dog, not that it is any of your business."

  "They serve coffee too, why don't you grab one. On me."

  "Got to stay with the ambulance, I'm on duty. "

  Fenella drew in a breath, turned to Audrey and said, "Not from around these parts, are you, luv?"

  "Not originally, but it is home now. I live in town and work at the library."

  "Want us to take you home?" said the paramedic. "My colleague will be back in a tick. You don't have to answer questions, not with you still in shock. Don't let the bleedin' police intimidate you."

  Fenella tilted her head upwards as if looking for something on the ambulance roof. Take a breath. Inhale. Exhale. Stay on task. "Bristol? Is that where you are from, Mrs Robin?"

  "How d'you know?" Audrey adjusted her glasses. "Most people guess South West England, but never the right town."

  "I've visited, luv. Nice mellow twang you lot have."

  Audrey grinned. "Love it here, much colder than Bristol though. This morning I walked along the beach collecting rubbish after the Guy Fawkes festivities. I've done that ever since I moved into town. The environment is so fragile and we humans leave so much mess. I worry about it and want to do my part."

  Fenella leaned forward encouragingly. "Is that how you ended up by the bonfire?"

  Audrey gave a nod. "This morning I was following the trail of litter. Not that there was much—a few empty crisp packets, lager cans… bits and pieces. Maybe if I'd have started at the bonfire, something could have been done?"

  She let out a long wail. To Fenella's ear it sounded like the cackle of a witch around her cauldron.

  "Go on, luv, have a good cry," Fenella said. "I'm here."

  "Maureen's body was… charred, so very, very charred." Audrey's face crumpled and her body shook with sobs. "I should have found her sooner."

  Fenella felt a pang of sorrow, couldn't help herself and gave Audrey a comforting hug. "It would have been no use, luv."

  Audrey snuggled between her arms and whimpered. "If only I'd walked to the bonfire first, then I would have seen Maureen earlier and called for help. They might have been able to save her. I mean it is marvellous what medicine can do these days, isn't it?"

  Fenella held her even tighter, saying nothing, sharing in her grief.

  The wind picked up. It threw pellets of hard rain against the ambulance as though a mediaeval crowd tossing stones at a witch. A blast of thunder crackled. It rolled across the beach like a long jeer. The vehicle shuddered under its deep boom. There goes what is left of the forensics, Fenella thought with a glum sigh. She tilted her head to stare through the condensed windows. Jones turned up his collars but didn’t move from the ambulance door.

  "Don't blame yourself," Fenella said at last. Audrey clung to her like a newborn baby. "Not your fault, luv."

  "I blame you!" the paramedic bawled from the front. "Can't find a cop when you need one and when you do, they interrogate you like you've just escaped from a high-security prison. Leave the woman be, for crying out loud. Can't you see she is sick?"

  Fenella fought the urge to throw him from the vehicle. If she did, there'd be trouble with the union, and Superintendent Jeffery would raise hell when she found out. She sucked in a breath and let it out slow. The cheeky bugger would be out in the rain otherwise.

  Audrey suddenly broke from Fenella's hug and wiped her eyes. "Please forgive me. I don't know what's come over me."

  "Shock," said the paramedic, chewing on the last chunk of hot dog. "Go home, get some rest. We are happy to take you. Once the police start with their questions, there is no end to it. Why can't you leave her be?"

  Fenella sighed. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. "Mrs Robin, do you want to go on or would you rather make a statement at the station tomorrow?"

  "Now, please." Audrey's hands shook. "Then it will be over?"

  "It's never over," grumbled the paramedic. "Trust me. The buggers will be at you like a dog peeing on its favourite tree."

  Fenella took a slow breath through her nose, then spoke in a soft sociable tone. "Another interruption and you’re nicked!"

  "Charming, I must say," replied the paramedic. "Whatever happened to the friendly Bobby? Wait till I speak to the union rep."

  Just then, the ambulance door opened and Dexter climbed in, a savoury shroud of sour whisky and damp coming with him.

  "One of my team," Fenella said in a level tone. "Detective Sergeant Dexter."

  Dexter picked up the annoyance in her voice, glanced around, and asked the paramedic for permission to enter.

  "Come join the party," the paramedic replied with a sneer.

  Dexter rolled his eyes, then put out his hand to Audrey. "Mrs Robin?"

  She reached and shook, touched her hair, dabbing it down, then adjusted her owl-like glasses and smiled. "Detective Dexter, I believe we have met."

  Dexter beamed. "Are you sure?"

  "Home Brewing. A Guide for the Thrifty." Audrey tapped her temple with her index finger. "I remember the title. You borrowed it from the library three weeks ago. Have you had any success with your own home brews?"

  "Ah," Dexter replied, avoiding Fenella's eye. "Just something to read on a rainy day."

  "I'm sure Mrs Robin has no interest in what you do with your free time on rainy days," Fenella said in a pointed voice.

  The ambulance door flew open and there was Jones, struggling with a ratty-faced man who wriggled from his grasp with the agility of a ferret.

  "Westmorland News, here," yelled Rodney Rawlings. "Could I have a word, Mrs Robin?"

  "Hey, you can't come in here, bloody fool!" screamed the paramedic.

  "Out!" barked Dexter, stumbling to his feet and out the door to help Jones.

  "People have a right to know," howled Rawlings. "Did Miss Maureen Brian say anything about Mr Shred before she copped it?"

  But he was surrounded by uniforms. He struggled, more ceremony than actual fight, as they carted him away. Dexter hurried after the melee. He knew the routine with Rodney Rawlings—a stern talk and then release. Best not to press charges against members of the press. Rodney Rawlings had been around so long, he knew where Dexter's skeletons lay.

  "Told you nothing good would come from talking with the police when you are sick," the paramedic said. "God knows what'll happen next."

  Fenella slammed the ambulance door shut. Then she sat down. A minuscule smile kissed her lips. She leaned forward and said to the paramedic, "Where were you late Bonfire Night?"

  No answer. But she saw the flare in his nostrils before he turned away to stare out of the front window.

  Now Fenella got down to business.

  "Mrs Robin, did you know the victim?"

  "Oh yes. I knew her very well."

  "You two were friends?"

  Audrey adjusted her position and tugged at the blanket. Her hands still shook. She raised them to her ears for a moment, then turned to glance out of the window and let out a heavy sigh.

  "Everyone knew Maureen, she is… was a marvellous person and welcomed me with open arms when I moved into Port Saint Giles. She introduced me to the community and helped me settle in and make connections. Maureen did that for everyone. But yes, we were friends, very good friends."

  The rain eased to a grey blanket of drizzle, and with it, the constant pitter-patter turned to a soft tap-tap. Dexter returned and took out his notebook. Good, thought Fenella. Now I can focus. "Do you know any relatives of Miss Brian?"

  "She had a sister in Cornwall. But she died before I moved to Port Saint Giles."

  "Any grandchildren, nephews, nieces?"

  "Not that I know of. We were close, Maureen and I; she treated me like a daughter."

  Fenella changed tack. "Have you any idea who might want to hurt Miss Brian?"

  "No." Audrey'
s face spasmed. Her hand reached out, tapped her coat pocket. "Maureen was such a lovely woman, and to find her tossed on the bonfire like a… cast-off scrap of driftwood. Who could do that to a fellow human being?"

  For several seconds both women stared at one another as the soft rap of drizzle faded, leaving behind the whistle of a hollow wind and the gentle rumble of the generator.

  "That will be all, for now," Fenella said. "Thank you for your time, Mrs Robin."

  Audrey visibly relaxed and a broad smile crept onto her lips. "I hope I've been helpful."

  "Wonderful." Fenella stood, paused, then sat back down. "Oh, just one more thing. Tell me again what happened today. Just so I can get it straight in my head."

  "I just walked around the bonfire picking up rubbish when I saw something. I thought to myself, that's a bit small for a Guy Fawkes. Then I wondered why it hadn't been burnt in last night's fire. I walked closer and there she was. I recognised Maureen and knew she was dead—the back of her head… smashed in." Audrey's hand flew to her face and she scrubbed her eyes. "Then I must have screamed, and Mr O'Sullivan was at my side."

  "And he called the police?"

  "Yes."

  "Now think very carefully before you answer my next question." Fenella paused for three beats. "Did Maureen have any enemies?"

  "No."

  "An upset neighbour?"

  "Detective Sallow, I can't think of anyone more agreeable than Maureen Brian. I've known her since I moved to this community and never heard her raise her voice."

  "When did you last see her?"

  "Yesterday evening, we met briefly before they lit the bonfire. But we lost each other at the start of the procession. That was the last time I saw her alive."

  "And where were you between midnight and two this morning?"

  "At home, sleeping, I suppose."

  "What time did you get home?"

  Audrey shrugged. "I can't say, but I left before they closed the beach and I went straight to bed."