Bury Him Darkly

by Roger Ormerod

  ‘I’ve been so worried,’ she admitted. ‘Can’t sit still… but I was sure you wouldn’t want me to go out. And I just knew you’d bring me news. It’s so good of you, Inspector.’

  ‘All in the day’s work, Miss… do I call you Fields or Felucci?’

  ‘My married name’s Messenger. Mrs Messenger. But I’ll soon be getting rid of him. Call me Bella, please, like you used to.’

  ‘Very well. Getting rid of him?’ A smile, confiding. ‘I hope you don’t mean that as it sounds.’

  She gave a token, breathy laugh, wiggled a hand. ‘Divorce, actually. But stick a gun in my hand… and who know!’

  ‘Hand-guns are a bit thin on the ground in this country, as you very well know, Bella. In America...’ He wasn’t smiling now. ‘In America they’re relatively common, I understand. But I was forgetting — you’re English, so you’ll know. This was your home town, after all.’

  ‘I have an American passport.’

  ‘American by marriage, of course. But why’re we talking about hand-guns? Already we know — I’m sorry to put it so bluntly — but we know that the skull bears a cleft. A blow from a heavy and sharp instrument. No guns involved.’

  She stared at him, then turned away. One hand cupped her other elbow, fingers twiddling with her lips. She turned back. ‘Do we have to have these disgusting details?’

  ‘I didn’t intend to upset you. It’s been a long absence, though, and you’ve also had quite a while to get used to the idea.’

  ‘This morning —’

  ‘I meant on the trip over on the QE2.’

  ‘I was not… I came over to...’ She stopped, collecting her thoughts, seeming momentarily lost, and turned away for her cigarettes. Connaught watched her. I saw his lips twitch.

  I moved quietly round the room and slid into the one easy chair they allowed us. She lit the cigarette, her eyes following the billow of smoke. She’d played this scene before in the TV series. It was superbly done, a woman gathering her defences.

  ‘It’s the coincidence, you see,’ he explained.

  ‘I’ve heard all about the coincidence.’ She dismissed what I’d told her with a shake of her head, a swirl of the hair, not glancing in my direction. To her they were alone, testing each other’s nerves, alone with three cameras and a battery of lights, a floor manager, a producer and a director. But she’d trained herself to be unaware of them, always. Everything she could call on went into each performance, as now, pure concentration isolating her.

  ‘If you’ve heard about it,’ Connaught said flatly, ‘you’ll surely have realized it’s too wild to be accepted as a coincidence. You came because you knew the two houses were due for destruction. You came expecting something.’

  ‘Such as a blasted skull?’ she demanded in disgust, now quite callously accepting it as no more than a stage prop. ‘Alas, poor Yorick!’ she added, confirming it.

  I realized, at that moment, that her approach was the only way in which she could carry this through. It had to be unreal for her, something in the script, from which she could isolate her real self.

  Connaught wasn’t slow to realize this. His voice took on an edge, trying to cut through from Roma to Bella. ‘Not a blasted skull. Cleft. By a savage blow from a sharp and heavy instrument. Possibly the edge of a spade.’

  Her face froze as though he’d had the effrontery to slap her. ‘You’re trying to over-dramatize this. Admit it, Inspector.’ A tiny smile lightened her face. ‘I expected something, yes. I’d been informed that the work was going on. Tipped off, if you like. Can’t you see? Why is it that you official people haven’t got the slightest imagination? It baffles me. In your job, I’d expect it to be critically important. But there’s not a touch of it. Not a hint.’

  ‘I do assure you...’ He extended a hand. She was getting to him. Past him.

  ‘Oh, don’t apologize. Please!’ She was now moving around, showing him her profile of disgust. Giving camera 3 a bit of work.

  ‘I can imagine,’ he said, plodding on, ‘that you anticipated something. Because you came. Slowly, on the QE2, but came. Not simply in order to watch your old home being destroyed, I’m sure. But you came. Slowly. In time.’

  ‘Hurrying like a snail unwillingly to school,’ she said distantly.

  ‘A pity you didn’t take a plane, then,’ he said, somewhat acidly. ‘You’d have been here for the act one curtain, and been prepared for act two.’

  So he was fully aware of what she was trying to do. I saw her blink, then she was her old self. ‘Unless I decided not to stay for the last act.’

  ‘Oh… I think you’d have had to,’ he told her, displaying his imagination. ‘Knowing what to expect, you’d have had to wait for it.’

  ‘I did… not… know.’

  ‘You must have done. You used your imagination, Bella. Admit it.’

  She raised her chin. She’d been trying to keep him at a distance, but he was edging in close. ‘We had a feeling, Tonia and I. I’ll admit that. Intuition. Putting one or two things together. If you knew anything about the situation at that time, Mr Connaught...’

  ‘I did. I was involved as a police officer. As you very well know.’

  ‘Good. Then you’ll remember his life was hanging on a thread. We expected something.’

  ‘We being your sister and yourself?’

  ‘I’ve said that. Yes, we expected trouble. And then when he disappeared… I ask you, with nothing, not even his clothes! Of course something nasty had happened. We felt it. I remember… we got to watching from the bedroom window, that last week or two. Not watch exactly, but stare at that empty house next door. It was the ideal place. For a body, you see. We’d played in it as kids. You know, you know. Any empty house, kids play in it. We knew the floor-boards were loose. I’m telling you this ... for you to understand. Or at least try.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Good.’ She nodded her appreciation. ‘So you’ll see that after a while we convinced ourselves he was there. His body was. You know. Then, of course, we couldn’t stay.’

  Her eyes were now huge, slightly moist. In some way — I hadn’t seen her reach to it — her hair had become slightly disarrayed. This was the genuine Bella, she was informing him, the slightly agitated Bella, but sincere. Oh, completely sincere. The teenager he remembered.

  ‘I seem to recall that it was she who left first,’ he commented.

  ‘Well yes. She was younger.’

  ‘That matters?’

  ‘Of course. Tonia was always the frightened little mouse.’

  ‘But not you?’

  ‘Frightened — yes. Oh, I can remember being frightened. But I had to hang on and give her a chance to get clear.’

  ‘Very commendable.’

  ‘Then I went, myself. Left. Packed and left.’

  ‘To meet up with her?’

  ‘By accident really. I’d got this offer in Dublin. It led to a part in a film. Tonia got a job on set. Continuity. We went on from there to America. The States,’ she added, in case he wasn’t sure.

  ‘You’re telling me you kept in touch?’

  ‘Vaguely. You know… birthday cards. Phone calls.’ She kept varying this.

  I could see it coming. He’d been very clever, allowing her to do most of the work, leading herself into it. He found something to interest him, down in the street. Glanced out, then back over his shoulder.

  ‘You can contact her now, perhaps?’

  ‘I expect.’

  ‘Only expect? Your own sister!’

  ‘Yes. I’ve got a good idea where she is.’

  ‘In that case — if you could contact her — I’d have expected her to come with you.’

  ‘She’d have been too scared, I can assure you.’

  ‘Too scared, I’d have thought, to allow you to come alone.’

  She couldn’t understand that. His approach was unnerving. Her temper flowed to the surface. ‘What the hell does that mean?’

  He smiled, recognizing th
e break. ‘I think you’ve been lying to me, Bella. I think you haven’t contacted her, spoken to her, even set eyes on her, since you left that house ten years ago.’

  She stared fixedly at him. ‘Believe what you damn well wish.’

  ‘You’ll note,’ he said placidly, ‘that I’ve come here without a colleague. You’ve had no official warning. I can’t use one word of what you tell me. So we can both say what we like, and certainly believe what we wish.’

  ‘Warning?’ she snapped, seizing on the essential word. ‘What about?’

  ‘The warning we give that anything you say may be taken down… etc. It usually helps to prevent too much lying. But...’ He shrugged. ‘No warning, so we get plenty of lies. I believe you’re lying about your sister. I believe she is dead. I believe she died when your father did, or shortly afterwards.’ He paused. ‘In any event, before you left.’

  ‘Believe! Believe!’ She sounded disgusted but uneasy, and shot a glance at me, almost the first since I’d entered the room. ‘She’s alive.’ As though it was I who had to be convinced.

  ‘And you could produce her if necessary?’

  ‘Yes.’ She breathed the word in desperation.

  He seemed to relax. ‘Hamlet was joking, you know. Pretending he could recognize Yorick from a skull. It’s not possible, I assure you. Not even male from female. You’ve assumed that the skull you saw was your father’s. If that’s so, then the second one we’ve found must be your sister’s. Or vice versa, of course. If you want to be fussy on details.’

  ‘Two!’ she whispered. ‘You’ve found two?’ If that was acting, it was superb. No hysterics, no screams, just blank disbelief.

  ‘Two skulls, yes. Two bodies, then. That follows.’

  ‘Somebody,’ she said, her voice now husky with passion, ‘is playing funny buggers. It can’t be so. That’s why you didn’t bring anybody, because it’s you who’s bloody well lying, Inspector Arnold Connaught.’

  He turned to me, gesturing. I was being invited to put in a word. ‘There are two skulls, Bella. I saw them.’

  Then she laughed, and hysteria at last peeped through. ‘You can say that! There’s irony for you!’

  ‘What does that mean?’ Connaught demanded.

  ‘Two, you say. Two, you both say. But one of them can’t be Tonia’s. Just can’t be.’

  ‘Then produce her,’ he offered practically. ‘If that isn’t your sister, then where is she?’

  The look she gave me was one of mute appeal, as though I might help her. Then it all dissolved and she spluttered, hand to her mouth. It might have been all a huge joke. She gestured to me, a tiny flip of the fingers.

  ‘Ask her. She’s the best to know.’

  Connaught turned to stare at me, eyebrows raised, moustache twitching, but with something special in his expression. More than expectation. Hope, perhaps?

  ‘Oh my God,’ he said. ‘And didn’t I say it sounded like a false name, Miss Philipa Lowe!’

  It was like a blow between the eyes. For a few moments I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see clearly. The two others seemed fixed, like a black-and-white still; time was fixed as I fought to retrieve my mind. I knew I was holding out a hand, fending it off, fending off something, fighting for time. Then there was nothing but a sharp and cold clarity, bright and highly coloured. I could see every detail, the tiny design in her blouse, the fact that his tie was silk, that his eyes were not quite the same brown, that her hair was brighter than I recalled, closer to my own colour.

  As Tonia’s might have been! I heard myself saying, ‘Hey!’ It felt harsh, a nothing sound. I licked my lips, my brain clicked in, and I shouted, ‘What the bloody hell’s all this about?’

  They were staring at me, Connaught with a stiff expression, almost of shock. It was new to him, too, but Bella was viewing me with a sad-eyed look of hurt, that she’d needed to say it, that she’d absolutely had to say it — and betray her sister. If I’d had something heavy in my hand I’d have thrown it at that expression.

  Then Connaught laughed lightly, shattering the tableau. ‘Fancy that,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen some things...’

  He moved to the door, had his hand on the knob. ‘Wait!’ I shouted.

  He turned his head. ‘What for?’

  Bella now had her back to us. I threw her one quick glance, but she was standing at the window, indifference in her stance.

  I said to Connaught, ‘I can prove I’m Philipa Lowe.’

  ‘Can you?’ His lips were dry and seemed to stick together. ‘Then I suggest that you start assembling your proof.’ And he walked out.

  Chapter 5

  I waited, silent, until my restraint forced her to turn, her nerves tight. Just the sight of me seemed to provoke a flinch. But I was not about to indulge in violence. Oh, the fury was there, make no mistake. I ached to break something. Yet I knew I had to keep control of myself and of the situation, and was rather proud that I could talk below a shout, a little tightly, perhaps, but approaching rational comment.

  ‘Bella,’ I said, ‘you’re going to go after him and retract that statement.’

  ‘I didn’t make any statement.’

  ‘Don’t play with words, for pity’s sake. You as good as claimed I’m your sister.’

  ‘I had to do something,’ she said simply.

  Then I lost it. ‘Do you realize what you’ve done, you stupid bitch?’ I shouted.

  ‘I know exactly what I’ve done.’ Now she was icily cool, the real and practical Bella who had complete control of herself and her actions. ‘It’s known as self-defence.’

  ‘It’s known as blind idiocy from my point of view.’

  ‘It seems to me...’ She smiled pityingly, ‘… that it’s you who doesn’t understand. He was one snap of the fingers from arresting me. That close.’ She snapped them. ‘If it isn’t a trick of some sort — two skulls! He could’ve made that up.’

  ‘I saw them. With my own eyes. Two skulls.’

  ‘There you are, then. It’s as good as saying I killed my own father, and then my sister, to keep her quiet. A touch away from saying that. It’s what he was working round to. And I had to do something. Surely you see that, Phil. Come on, it does you no harm. But it’s my whole life at stake. And don’t smile like that. It is. If I’m arrested, then where’ll I be? I’d never be able to get back to the States in time, and Roma Felucci’ll be dropped, written out. Discarded like an old glove. It’s my life, Phil. Can’t you appreciate that! I’ve fought for it, clawed my way up to it, acted my head off for it. If I’m written out, that’ll be the end — and I might as well be dead.’

  ‘Surely not so serious...’

  ‘I am the boss of Colossus. It’s the way the viewer gets to think, and that’s how they see me. It’s happened before to lots of people. A hit series and you’re on top. Then, if you’re dropped, nobody can touch you again. In anything else I’d still be the boss of Colossus, and it’d all be unreal. Phil, you must try to understand.’

  I knew she was correct. Lord, it had to be sheer murder, being so prominent in the entertainment scene — and then becoming nothing. As good as dying, it would be. As bad as dying.

  ‘So you had to land me right in trouble? Oh, fine! Great for you.’

  ‘I can stall them off. Long enough for them to catch the real killer. It’s all I want.’ The appeal in her voice was genuine, the eyes not meeting mine, which was what you’d expect with the embarrassment of having to appeal, she normally so confident and majestic. I felt it to be real.

  ‘And if it comes to it you can trace your genuine sister,’ I suggested.

  ‘You can surely prove your own identity,’ she said shortly, not in any way answering my question.

  But could I? So few people really knew me in England since my husband’s death. Inspector Oliver Simpson. My solicitor, Harvey Remington, his secretary… and… and… well, nobody really.

  ‘I’d prefer you to trace your sister,’ I said, no warmth in it. There was no response. I had to use
a sharper tone. ‘Pick that phone up and start things moving. Do something, Bella, blast you. Don’t let it all roll over you.’ Over me, I meant.

  She was hunting for her cigarettes. They had been in her hand only moments before. It was a ruse to avoid my eyes.

  ‘Bella!’ I said sharply. ‘Are you listening?’

  She turned back to me. I have to credit her with a shaded look of sympathy and distress in her eyes, an unwelcome line of worry appearing between them. ‘I told him a lie, Phil. Sorry. From the moment she left that house, left this district I assume, I haven’t heard a thing from Tonia. Not a word, not a sign. And that’s the truth.’ It was said as though the handing to me of that particular item of truth was a gift!

  I stared at her for so long, so fixedly, that in the end she turned away and went to sit on her bed. In fact, I was trying to make sense of it, or rather, trying to see some alternative to the very obvious truth. Finding none, I went and plonked myself on the edge of my own bed, facing her. I felt I was now talking to the real Bella, with all the attitudes and stances of her acting hammered out of her. She was clearly terrified. Her fingers shook as she tried to extricate a cigarette from its pack.

  ‘Do you really understand what you’ve done, Bella?’ I asked softly.

  ‘Playing… for time,’ she whispered.

  ‘Think. Look at it. You could well have persuaded that very nice inspector that I’m really your sister. Just might have. I don’t know. But there’s one thing you don’t know. Are you listening?’

  Eyes huge, she nodded.

  ‘Those two bodies, Bella, were buried side by side. That has to mean by the same person, and at the same time. Now… are you listening?’ Her eyes were moist with shock, but she was listening. ‘To Inspector Connaught, if you’ve persuaded him I’m your sister, that would have to mean that one of those bodies is not Tonia’s. Which is what you intended.’

  ‘Well, then...’ she muttered. ‘Of course.’

  ‘But I know I’m not your sister. I know your father and your sister disappeared at about the same time. I know you haven’t heard from her since — you’ve just told me that. So — as far as I’m concerned — that second body could well be Tonia’s. So I know the odds are that you killed them both. Me. This is me...’ Tapping my chest. ‘Philipa Lowe, who can prove who I am. And this Philipa Lowe knows you killed them. That’s what your trickery has done for you. Look at me, damn you, Bella. Let me see your eyes. I want to see whether there’s guilt in them.’