by steve higgs
‘Sounds good. It has been too long since I hit the slopes. I should look into booking myself a week away.’
‘Does Natasha ski?’ he asked.
I frowned a little at the question. ‘I don’t know, but since we haven’t been on a date yet, I will leave off planning our holiday together for a while yet.’
‘Good point.’ He conceded.
We talked some more after moving through to my lounge to watch TV. His mention of Triple X inciting a successful search for the film. I drank water while Jagjit worked his way through six of the beers and Vin Diesel did his thing.
By 2100hrs I had endured quite enough of watching Jagjit drink beer and I was getting tired. He had work in the morning too, so he wished me luck for my week and went home. We would most likely not see each other until next Friday night when I would have the even harder task of drinking water at the pub.
I had ironing to do, so I tackled the boring task while watching Jason Statham, then went upstairs to run a bath.
The day was over.
House Guest. Sunday, November 6th 2150hrs
Laying in the bath hours later, I was still wondering what I needed to do to move the case forward. I had gone to the gym again, this time for a weights session, which combined with the very healthy approach I was taking to my food since returning from Cornwall was making me feel not only physically better but, in many ways, mentally relieved that I was now tackling an issue I had been ignoring. Now I was soaking my body and getting it ready for the aches it was going to feel tomorrow when I would pound it again just as hard.
The case though was far less controllable than my fitness and nutrition regime. Barbara's husband had died in the exact same manner as Mabel's. There was no way it was a coincidence. This was murder, and someone had gone to a lot of trouble to disguise it as something that could be written off as a freak accident.
Who did I go to with this though? I wanted the coroner to reconsider her verdict. Who had been the coroner on the first case? That was a key question I needed an answer to. I would research it in the morning. I was secretly hoping that James/Jane would turn up for work as expected and in so doing give me the chance to hand the research over to him/her. He/She was better at it after all and it would mean I could pursue other lines of enquiry, maybe take on another case or find us a new office.
My doorbell rang downstairs, causing a cacophony of barking from the dogs as they ran from the sofa they had undoubtedly been sleeping on, to the front door where I heard their paws skid to a stop. They barked some more.
I had neither my phone nor a watch with me so I could not be certain of the time. My best guess was somewhere close to 2200hrs, a time at which I would not expect to have people ringing my doorbell.
I ignored it, believing that whoever was outside would get bored and wander off and the dogs would take themselves back to bed.
The doorbell bingbonged again though, eliciting another round of barking from the dogs. Still, I ignored it. It was late for it to be an opportunistic salesperson, or perhaps a well-meaning soul collecting for charity, but I couldn’t imagine who else it might be. Regardless, I was in a nice, warm bath and felt no desire to rush downstairs, dripping with water to open the door to the cool late-Autumn air.
Several seconds ticked by. They had probably given up I decided. Then changed my mind when I heard the front door handle turning.
Someone was trying to get in!
I leaped from the bath and ran, snagging a towel as I went. The bathroom was right by the top of the stairs and the front door just beyond them. My wet feet quickly dried as the moisture was stolen by the carpet pile. Downstairs, the dogs were going absolutely nuts now to repel the intruder and I could feel adrenalin hitting my bloodstream. It was spiking my pulse rate.
I hit the bottom step… and stopped.
Hilary's woeful face was peering through a crack in the door. He was trying to calm the dogs and keeping the door almost closed so they could not escape. They had still not worked out that it was someone they knew and were in kill mode. Admittedly, an angry Miniature Dachshund is not that terrifying, nor is it likely to do much damage, but he was probably wise to keep the barrier in place.
‘Hilary? What's up? What brings you here at this time on a Sunday?' I asked as I opened the door to welcome him in. Whatever had driven him to disturb my Sunday evening peace was insignificant, I could find out about it later. He had thought it important enough to come here so it was my task to welcome him inside.
As I opened the door, he saw that I was holding a towel around my waist with one hand while steam billowed off my skin. The dogs saw who it was and hopped over the doorsill to sniff him and I caught sight of the suitcase and duffel bag at his feet.
Oh dear.
‘Anthea kicked me out.' He wailed.
I motioned for him to get inside. The cold air was biting at my wet skin, but he clearly needed to come in and be with a friend.
‘I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to go.'
‘Just come in, mate. Let's get you in the warm, shall we.' My mind was spinning. What did I say to a chap whose wife had booted him to the kerb? I got him in and closed the door. ‘I think a stiff drink is called for.'
I fiddled with the towel so it would stay around my waist and went through to the kitchen. I had a bottle of eighteen-year-old Scottish single malt for such occasions. I opened the cupboard it was in, swore under my breath because the level had dropped since I last looked at it, which probably meant my father had found it last time they dog sat, then poured a decent measure into two crystal glasses.
Hilary trudged into the kitchen after me, took the offered glass and upended it into his mouth.
‘That's good stuff.' He said, taking a seat at the breakfast bar.
Err, yeah. It was. I poured him another and advised him to sip it.
‘Do you need a place to stay for a while?' I was putting two and two together. He didn't answer for a second but nodded his head once quickly to confirm what I figured he had knocked on my door for.
I was getting cold. ‘Listen, ah… I need to get some clothes on. I won't be a minute. I'll put your bags upstairs in the guest bedroom when I go up. If you want to talk, we can. If you don't, then stay here as long as you need.'
I gave his shoulder a comradely punch as I went out the door and left him staring into the bottom of his whisky glass.
I almost got to the door before he started speaking.
‘I gave her a spanking like Big Ben said. I think I knew it would end badly but I did it anyway. I told her it was time for me to be the man and for her to learn her place.'
Christ! I could imagine Anthea reacting to that by going straight for the nuclear option.
‘She just looked at me for a moment. I actually thought she was impressed like Big Ben said she would be. Then she kicked me in the nuts and dragged me out of the house by my feet. She threw my clothes out of the bedroom window. It was raining. I had to ask her for a bag.'
I was struggling to find something to say in response to his news. I couldn't remember what Big Ben had said, although I did remember the conversation from Friday night. I doubt he had intended for Hilary to have followed his instructions, he was most likely trying to be amusing. Or annoying. Big Ben did annoying very well.
‘Hold that thought, buddy. I'll be two minutes.' I ran up the stairs two at a time, threw on sports trousers and a zip-through hoody and ran back down. By the time I arrived in the kitchen, Hilary had finished the second glass of whisky and left his stool. He was sitting cross-legged on the stone floor next to the oven with Dozer on his lap and Bull climbing on his right knee.
‘I always wanted a dog. Anthea said they were too much trouble and the children would just be upset when it got old and died.'
There was a little truth to that. I didn't want to consider how I would feel when my two little dogs got old. It was late on a Sunday evening and I had planned to go to bed after my bath. The bath, of course, had been curtailed and I
had a friend that needed a shoulder, so I clearly wasn't going to bed either.
I coaxed him off the floor and through to the lounge. He had downed two good-sized belts of whisky in the last five minutes so I offered him coffee next. I could not see that getting smashed would do him any good.
He wasn't exactly chatty. Mostly he stared at his mug of coffee and looked lost. I asked him more about what had happened and learned that he had attempted to establish his dominance on Saturday evening. The resulting eviction had left him wandering the streets for the last twenty-four hours. His bed last night had been the bench in the bus shelter next to the park in the middle of the village. It was cold enough, now that we were into November, that he must have suffered and had probably got no sleep.
He needed a shower and a meal and some sleep, all of which I was able to provide. After an hour of talking back and forth, I was able to coach him into the concept of going to work in the morning, steadying his ship and letting the dust settle. He would speak with Anthea tomorrow and apologise. I was sure a truce could be negotiated and doubted their marriage was over – something he appeared to be very afraid of.
Finally, I got him off the sofa and upstairs. His things were in the guest room waiting for him although he didn't have a toothbrush, just some clothes which needed laundering before he could wear them as he had collected them off the wet grass outside his house.
As I shoved him the direction of the bathroom, I went back downstairs to my utility room to put his clothes in the washing machine. As I came back up, I could hear the shower running. I was satisfied that he was no danger to himself. The sun would come up in the morning and bring new hope with it.
A New Start. Monday, November 7th 0900hrs
I slept fitfully, the result of a dream waking me at 0112hrs. I had been back at the castle wall with Deadface and had once again let him go. In the dream I had watched him fall, watched his body break open as it hit the ground below. It was not the first time in my life that I had awoken terrified and knew from experience that I was best served to get up and get some water. Take a moment, if you will. I went back to bed and sleep came more peacefully but it was still fitful as if I was waking myself before I dropped into too deep a dream state where the terror might return.
The net result was that when I forced myself to get up at 0500hrs to get to the gym I was tired, not rested as I should have been. The fatigue was soon forgotten though as I began sweating, putting myself through another gruelling CrossFit workout. This time choosing the bike and rower instead of running. It was every bit as hard as the previous workout, my constant mantra throughout telling me that I would see the result of my hard work soon enough.
Sat at my breakfast bar later, dressed for the day and eating a vegetable omelette, I heard a key in the lock of my front door. I glanced up at the clock: 0849hrs. The Jane shaped shadow outside turned out to be Jane, although it wasn't Jane at all because it was James for once. The killer Dachshunds skidded to a noisy barking halt at his feet. They had identified the intruder and concluded that they could let him live.
‘Hi, James.' I called out as he came in. ‘I wasn't sure whether to expect you or not.'
‘Hi, Tempest.' James was dressed in skinny bleached jeans, a pair of new-looking white Nike trainers and a white turtleneck sweater over which he had a down-filled, bright red jacket. Even though he had come as a boy today he was still wearing makeup. He looked very gay, but that was probably his intention. ‘I gave some thought to staying off work today but decided I would most likely get back to feeling normal if I got back to my normal routine.'
I nodded. ‘That makes sense.'
‘Now that you are back we can get back to usual routine. It would be nice if we were back at the office. Not that your place isn't nice.' He added quickly. ‘But it doesn't feel like a proper place of work.'
‘I know what you mean.' The dogs had checked James for food and since he had none they had lost interest in him and were heading back to the sofa in my lounge. ‘I have some research for you. I want to see if I can solve the office thing this week. I am going out shortly.'
‘Okay. Want coffee before you go?' he asked as he flicked the kettle on.
I wasn't going to say anything about it, but I was suddenly uncomfortable with him in my house. He was very familiar with it. I had thought that we might just use my house until the office was rebuilt but I knew now that I needed to rent somewhere new as soon as possible.
‘Is Amanda coming in?' James asked as he opened my kitchen cupboard and helped himself to coffee.
‘Yes, she is.' Said Amanda. She was just coming through the front door. She also had a key. No sooner had I thought that I needed to get back all my keys, than Mr. Wriggly voiced his opinion. He thought Amanda should keep hers. Just in case she ever felt the need to visit him in the middle of the night.
‘Good morning, Amanda. How was your weekend?'
‘It was very pleasant, thank you.' I really wanted to ask her about Brett and whether they had patched things up, but I kept my mouth shut.
‘Yes, please.' She replied to James's unspoken question. He was holding up a coffee mug.
‘So, what does the caseload look like? What do I get to do today?' she asked.
I spent the next ten minutes telling her and James about the witchcraft case. I showed them the pictures of the lightning victims and explained about the exploding chests. Both James and Amanda had made yuck noises at my description.
‘What's next then?' Amanda asked.
‘Well, I have a list of things for James to research. Not least of which is the coroner herself.'
‘The one you described as super-hot.' Amanda clarified, a definite judgy tone to her voice.
‘Did I?' Had I? I might have done. She certainly was quite attractive. I thought back to what I had been telling them, but the exact words I had used were eluding me.
‘Yes. Anyway, if you have nothing immediate for me to do, I will start trawling emails and look for a new case.'
‘Perfect. I am off to see if I can resolve our office situation.' Heading to the door, I decided an extra layer beneath my coat was in order, it looked cool out, so I ran up the stairs to fetch a jumper.
As I turned toward my bedroom someone spoke. ‘Morning, Tempest.' came a voice right next to my ear.
‘Aaaaargh!' I replied, damned near wetting myself in the process.
With my head down and my mind on other things, it came as a shock when I bumped into Hilary on the landing. I had completely forgotten he was staying with me.
James and Amanda appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Both had leaped to rescue me from whatever foul fiend had caused me to squeal like a frightened girl only to find me sat on the top stair holding my chest while my heart calmed.
‘Everything okay?' Amanda asked.
‘Hello.' Replied Hilary, peering around the top banister so they could see him.
‘Hi, Hilary.' James said slowly, undoubtedly trying to work out why he was in my house.
Amanda looked shocked. Then I remembered that she had never met Hilary and might now be questioning if I was bisexual. ‘Amanda, this is Hilary. He needed a place to stay last night so he crashed here. I forgot.'
‘You forgot?' Hilary repeated, somewhat affronted. I noted that he was having trouble keeping his eyes off Amanda.
‘Yes, I forgot. I have been up a while and getting on with my usual routine. Last night is long behind me.'
‘Charming.' He said. He wasn't actually taking offence, just making a point I guess.
A thought occurred to me, ‘Aren't you going to be late to work?' I asked.
‘I already called in sick. One of the other department managers can cover for me for once. I don't remember the last time I had a random day off. I feel like I deserve one.' I had no opinion on the matter. ‘Is there any coffee?' he asked looking down the stairs at the two faces still peering up.
Ten minutes later, he was downstairs with a hot mug of coffee cooling in his grip and
a crumb-laden plate that had once held some toast. He was dressed in some old pyjamas I had found for him and a zip-through hoody. They were all far too big for his skinny frame but it hardly mattered.
He seemed far brighter than last night. The sun had indeed risen again.
‘What is your plan for the day?' I enquired. I was hoping it included making peace with his wife so he could go home.
‘Not sure.' He replied, then he looked like he was thinking about his options. ‘Do you need me out of here?' He asked, indicating around to show that he meant my house, ‘Or am I okay to stay a few days if I need to?'
I said the stupid thing that everyone does in such circumstances, ‘Stay as long as you need, buddy.' As I watched his body slump gratefully with the news that he could live with me, I wondered what I had just let myself in for.
‘Look, I have some business I need to attend to, so I am going out. You will find a spare key in the utility room next to the front door. It will be easy to find, it has a label on it that says spare house key. Come and go as you please.' I wanted to give him a pep talk about fixing his marriage, but it didn't feel like the time. Maybe tonight.
I bid everyone good day and went out the door.
The New Office. Monday, November 7th 0953hrs
I parked my car in its usual spot behind the office in Rochester High Street. In front of me was the ruined building that had once housed my office. Scaffolding clung to all sides of it now and a plastic canopy had been erected to protect the exposed interior from the weather. In one of the parking spaces was a large skip, half filled with debris that had been cleared from the building as they took it back to the parts that were still solid and could be built upon.
I looked in the skip. It was mostly roof tile and burnt wooden trusses from the roof. The building didn't look as bad as it had in my memory. I went through the cut in the wall that led from the car park to the High Street. The Travel Agency owned and run by the chap that rented me my office, Tony Jarvis was almost untouched by the fire. The roof space was exposed where the fire had spread from my office but otherwise, he had probably just suffered smoke damage. The main office might only require some paint. He would not be able to reopen until it had passed safety inspection following the building works to fix the roof though. Maybe Tony would see this as a chance to update the shop – it was badly in need of modernising. That was his decision to make.