Stone Angels

by Paula R. C. Readman

  “Ah, yes, I’ve just read the paper.”

  Jenny nodded. “So you’ll understand why Easter wanted to see Basil. He didn’t even wait for me to show him in, just pushed past. Not that it will resolve anything, just add closure I suppose.”

  “Does he blame Basil?”

  “Not sure. There’s just a lot of shouting. Mostly from Basil.”

  “If it all goes quiet, shall we call the police before we go in?”

  Jenny laughed so sweetly it lightened the tension in the small room. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Anyway, I’ve work to do, so they can just get on with it. Basil wants me to make a few calls to find a model for Easter’s launch night.”

  “A model. What sort of model?” I sat on the edge of her desk.

  “The fashion model type rather than an art class type. It’s to add a touch of glamour to the evening, according to Basil.”

  “That should be interesting.”

  “Not for me when I’ve got to deliver. Any suggestions? By the way, you’ll be coming to the launch, won’t you, James?”

  I hesitated. Then realising Jenny, in her innocence, had just solved my problem.

  “Please say you’ll come, James,” she pleaded. “Having a friend there wouldn’t go amiss. It’s been a tough assignment for me. I’ve been calling in favours left, right and centre, even begging my family and friends to come along just to make up the numbers.”

  “Gosh, it’s that bad, is it? What, no celebrities?”

  “Like who?” Jenny shook her head. “If I knew any I would’ve asked nicely, but I don’t. That’s up to Basil to ask them if he knows any. He’s asked an American friend of his, but he’s keeping that close to his chest.”

  “Really. So you’ve no idea who?”

  “None,” Jenny said, turning her head slightly as she raised her hand to her ear and cupped it.

  “Does Basil have any idea how hard it’s been for you to…?”

  Jenny put her finger to her lips and cut me off. I turned to the door and listened. The shouting had ceased, but Basil and Easter were still engaged in using strong language and harsh tones.

  “For a moment there, I thought they had killed each other,” Jenny continued typing. Anyway, at least they’re talking. Hopefully, Easter will still want to go ahead with the exhibition.”

  “Why wouldn’t he? You’ve put a lot of work into it.”

  “Just doing the job I’m paid to do.”

  “I’m sure Basil appreciates you.”

  Jenny’s face brightened. “He’s okay. Under normal circumstances he leaves me to get on with most things, but on this occasion, I could’ve done with some input from him.”

  “So what’s his plan for the model when he finds her?”

  “To stand in front of Easter’s paintings with a glass in her hand, looking as though she’s about to purchase it. He wants Easter’s work to appeal to the New Age Hippies rather than his older clientele who seem to be drying up or dying off.”

  “So Basil realises he has to appeal to the younger generation.”

  “Yes, but he won’t allow Easter to expand his style either. Like you he’s fed up with painting the same old pictures.”

  “Why doesn’t Easter tell him? He’s in a far better position than I am, having a following in America.”

  “He might just be doing that now by the sounds of it.”

  Through Jenny’s closed door, we heard raised voices again.

  “Do you think I should break it up?” Jenny said, rising to her feet and coming around to my side of her desk. “I could put a call through, or knock at his door, with some lame excuse?”

  “What and spoil their fun!” I chuckled, enjoying our light-hearted banter. “Are you doing anything after work, Jenny?”

  “Why?” Jenny moved back to her side of the desk.

  “Please don’t read anything into it, but I’d like to take you out for a meal.’

  “James, I…” Jenny frowned in puzzlement.

  “Please hear me out first, Jen. I really enjoy your company, but this is work-related.”

  “Oh—well that’s fine, I think…” She hesitated and for a moment I was sure I saw hurt in her eyes. “Please explain so there isn’t any misunderstanding between us, James.”

  “Right, there’s a girl who I think would make a suitable model for you, if that would help you out?”

  “Great, but I get the feeling there’s a catch.”

  “Isn’t there always?” I said, shrugging my shoulders. I laughed. “You’ll have to dine with me.”

  “Oh, is that all?” She tried to look disappointed but failed.

  “I think it would be easier if you were to give her the once over as you know what Basil is looking for. And then, if she’s suitable, you could speak to her on his behalf.”

  “Oh, so why not tell Basil and take him for a meal?”

  I shook my head, trying to keep the humour out of my reply. “That’s easier said than done, Jen. Especially when Basil is a red-blooded male, who practically eats his meat while it still has a pulse and the goddess in question works in a new alternative, healthy eating restaurant. An ideal place I think to exhibit some of Easter’s paintings for the diners to enjoy. I can’t imagine Basil enjoying dining out at a vegetarian restaurant.”

  She chuckled. “Never.”

  “So, will you join me?”

  “Why not? It’ll make for a very interesting evening. Both in food and— company.”

  “Will you need to go home first?”

  “No, I always keep a change of clothes here. 6.30 okay? Have you booked a table?”

  “It’s done.”

  “Really! You knew I would say yes!”

  “Well, let’s say I was hoping I wasn’t going to be dining alone this evening.”

  The force of Basil’s office door slamming against the wall reverberated around Jenny’s office. It had us both out of our seats. Jenny opened her door just in time for us to hear Easter’s parting shot.

  “Find Tommy Blackbird, Mr Fucking Hallward, and then you’ll find out what happened to Candela!”

  Jenny glanced over her shoulder and mouthed something to me.

  “Are you all right?”

  She shook her head. “That name, Tommy Blackbird, now where have I heard it before?”

  Below us, another door banged.

  Chapter Nineteen

  1968

  “Tommy Blackbird.” Jenny rolled each syllable around her mouth. “Where have I heard that name before?” She said more to herself than to me and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. The lines around them softened as her face took on a relaxed expression. Neither of us wanted to check on Basil, deciding to give him time to calm down.

  I pulled a pen from my pocket while reaching for a sheet of paper off Jenny’s desk. My thoughts transported me back to my studio. I stood before my easel, brush in hand. On a large, fresh canvas, the contours of Jenny’s face appeared in confident lines. I roughly sketched the tilt of her head and the fragility of her neck, using the same backlighting that her office window had created. I added lustre to her hair, savoured the pearlescence of her creamy-brown skin and the moistness of her slightly parted lips.

  Jenny’s eyes snapped open and the image of her on the canvas faded. Pleased with my effort, I slipped the sketch into my pocket.

  “Oh sorry, James. What must you think of me? I’m sure I’ll remember later. Right, I think I’ll go and see if Basil wants a word with you before you go.”

  “You are all right, aren’t you?”

  “Oh yes. I just hate it when I can’t remember something. Perhaps, it’s just an unusual name?”

  “Hmm, maybe.” I wanted her to forget, though I was curious to know how and when she had heard the name. “Do you think it’s all over now Easter’s walked out on Basil? The exhibition, that is—”

  Before Jenny had the chance to answer, her office door swung open. Basil stormed in. “What the hell did that reporter think
he was bloody well playing at, writing all that sodding crap? And where the hell did he get the photo from?” Deflated, he dropped into the chair next to the door, leaving me with nowhere to sit. The office now felt crowded, and I wanted to escape.

  Basil sat wringing his hands. His washed-out expression gave me every reason to feel smug. It would only be a matter of time before his worst fears became a reality. Now that the local newspaper had told the world about his connection to the first missing girl, the big dailies would soon be hot on his tail with even more dirt they had raked up.

  “So, Mr Hallward,” Jenny said in her firm business voice. ‘I take it all plans are still the same?” Her hand rested on a stack of stamped addressed envelopes, she had just finished sealing.

  “Of course. Why shouldn’t they be? It’s just a small misunderstanding. I’m sure you have plenty to get on with, Jenny.”

  “Yes, Mr Hallward.” Jenny gathered up the envelopes and picked up her handbag. “I’m just popping out to the post office with these.”

  “Good. Don’t be too long,” Basil said before turning to me. “I take it you’ve brought in the Cohen painting, James?”

  “Yes, Jenny has it.”

  “Good, good,” Basil said as he led me through to his office.

  Just as Basil gestured for me to take a seat, Jenny’s phone began ringing. I wondered whether it was the police calling to ask him in for further questioning, or maybe a reporter from one of the largest newspaper offices. The phone rang unanswered.

  Jenny’s phone ceased ringing as I slumped into the leather easy chair. Basil wasn’t in a hurry to talk as he slouched forward, his elbows resting on his imposing desk. He was an anxious man..

  I leant back and made myself comfortable, the soft leather cushioned me. Why it had taken so long for the news of Jackie’s disappearance to surface, I wondered. Surely old Bert would’ve known sooner that Jackie wasn’t running the shop, unless he’d only just returned from his sister’s.

  “Basil old boy, what did you want to see me about?” I was impatient to get back to Suffolk and start preparing for my next quest. He remained lost in thought and rubbed at his tired eyes with his palms.

  “B.a.s.i.l?” I drew his name out.

  He blinked slowly at me. Was panic setting in now that the newspapers had named him? He knew as well as I did that others would point their fingers at him, saying he must be involved with the disappearance of other girls.

  A sigh escaped Basil’s dry lips. “I’m sorry. Oh God, I need to talk to someone. I feel I’m going insane, James.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I don’t understand what’s going on. Five girls have disappeared, and somehow I’ve been linked to them? Maybe our fine constabulary isn’t as smart as we like to believe. Or maybe I’m just the unluckiest man on earth.”

  “You’re unlucky.”

  His head snapped up. Under his eyes were dark rings. He wasn’t sleeping well. “What the fuck are you implying, James?”

  “Hey.” I stood, angered by his tone. “Now listen to me. Just repeating what you just said. You’re the one who needs to be careful, especially when you’re talking to others who don’t know you as well as I do.”

  He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair as he regained his composure.

  “I want you to come to Easter’s exhibition, as my guest, James—and—” He paused, before adding, “also my friend, too.”

  I took my time answering. I wondered whether it was worth the risk. Would five years be enough to make a difference that Easter wouldn’t recognise me? No, not me. Tommy Blackbird? It wasn’t as though we spent a great deal of time together as both of us focused on our own careers. Tommy Blackbird had cropped his hair in the beatnik style with the ubiquitous goatee, and most of the time, he wore dark shades, too.

  Easter spent most of his time locked in his studio, high on weed and other stuff, apart from the odd evenings. Then he would join the rest of the artists that lived at the squat as we all sat cross-legged at a low circular table, on scatter cushions, as we shared a meal in the dingy basement. Candela kept us updated on any art competitions or galleries on the lookout for new artists.

  Of course there were things that time couldn’t change about us, but I wondered whether Easter recognised the person after years of drugs and drink. Maybe it was just the name Tommy Blackbird that people recalled and not the person. After all, Jenny remembered it. Now, that was a puzzle. How?

  “I really want you there.” Basil cut into my thoughts.

  “I’ll come. Though I’m not sure if I’ll stay all night.”

  “That’s okay, I understand. I’m expecting someone so I shall have to leave early, as they need a lift from the airport to the exhibition. I’m waiting on a call from them at the moment to make the final arrangements. I’m glad you’re coming. I must admit, I’m a little surprised you’ve agreed as I was sure you’d say no.” Basil reached for the phone.

  “Right.” I felt he was dismissing me. As I reached the door, he said, “Oh, and thanks, James.”

  “For what?” I paused, my hand resting on the handle. “For saying I’ll come to Easter’s exhibition?”

  “No…not just that, but for reminding me to think before opening my mouth.”

  The outer door buzzed, telling us that Jenny was back. Basil gestured for me to close his door as he spoke to someone on the phone.

  As I passed Jenny’s door, I stuck my head in. “I’ll meet you down the road at the Railway Tavern, Jenny.”

  She looked up, a little surprised. “Oh, I thought we were going to—”

  “We are. I’m just meeting you in the tavern’s car park. Basil has just told me he’s working late tonight, waiting on a call. I didn’t think you’d want him to know we’re meeting up.”

  “No, you’re right. Yes, okay, I’ll see you in…” she glanced at her watch. “In an hour’s time, though I may be a little late. You know what he’s like.” She nodded in the direction of Basil’s office.

  By the time Jenny met me at the railway tavern she was a little flustered. “I’m so sorry, James. I thought he’d never let me go.” She peered into a small mirror to check her already perfect make-up.

  “Hey, no worries. You’re only a little late. I planned to sit here all night waiting for you, if necessary.” I laughed as we set off.

  After a short journey I swung the car into a small car park at the back of a row of shops and restaurants. From the car park, a badly lit, flag-stoned alley took us onto a narrow street.

  “I hope the restaurant isn’t far, James. My tummy’s rumbling.”

  “Not far now. About halfway up the street.”

  We could smell an amazing array of cooking aromas as we got closer. I realised that I had not eaten anything since breakfast as the uneaten sandwich was still in my pocket.

  “Hmm, something smells good,” Jenny said.

  I retrieved the napkin-wrapped sandwich and disposed of it in a waste bin before opening the restaurant door. As I stepped back, allowing Jenny to pass, she said, “Leftover from lunch?”

  “No, it was my lunch.”

  “I’m glad we’re both hungry. Wow! This does look lovely. Hope the food is just as good as the décor, James.”

  The restaurant was larger than it looked from the outside. An intimate space though dimly lit.

  “It’s a popular place,” Jenny said as we stood to wait for someone to show us to our table. “I love the wallpaper. Hessian, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I said, disinterested in the wall covering. My main concern was the lack of empty tables.

  “It goes so well with the brown quarry tiled floor. I’m always on the lookout for ideas for when I get a place of my own.”

  “All very rustic.” I commented while searching for something far more interesting than the décor.

  “I wonder if the fireplace is original too.” Jenny took in the whole room now.

  “It looks to be, especially with the red brick s
urround.”

  “Oh…my…”

  “Jen are you okay?” I sensed her unease, guessing she’d realised that it was mainly couples occupying the tables.

  “A pleasant ambience, don’t you think? I wasn’t quite sure what to expect to be honest.”

  Confusion flashed across Jenny’s face, “But I thought you’d already been here.”

  I realised my mistake. Not sure what to say next as I couldn’t tell her I had been stalking the girl. “Oh, a friend told me about the place. After I had explained that I was on the lookout for a certain type of face for my next series of paintings. They told me to check out a girl who works here.”

  “Really, what paintings would they be?” Her tone unnerved me.

  “Something I’ve been working on that, unfortunately, Basil isn’t interested in.”

  “Right, so you thought you’d bring me along to ask her to model for you, rather than you doing it?”

  “Well you’re looking for a model too, aren’t you?”

  “Two birds with one stone,” Jenny said with a chuckle.

  “You could say that.” I grinned.

  “You’ve done the right thing by asking me what with these disappearances, it would look better me asking, James.”

  “Good Lord, Jenny. I never thought about that, but you’re right.” I nodded in the direction of a couple nearby. “The food looks good. Let’s hope we’re not kept waiting too long.. I’m hungry.”

  “Oh gosh, James. Me and my big mouth! That’s ruined the ambience talking about a serial killer. It’ll be the last time you’ll invite me out.”

  Jenny’s unexpected concern sent a rush of warmth through me. I found myself fighting the urge to sweep her into my arms and hold her tight. Aware Jenny was watching me, I smiled as unfamiliar words began to form in my head. I reached out about to take Jenny’s hand, and opened my mouth not quite sure of what I was about to say when…

  “Good evening. Do you have a booking?”

  I turned. A striking young woman with sad holly-coloured eyes, peered at us from under a blunt blond fringe. All thoughts of Jenny dissolved. The weight of my brush heavy in my hand and sweeping strokes created lines on a fresh canvas as I transformed the beauty before me into my next angel.