He cut it fine, too. He stayed much longer than usual. In the end, they must have panicked. I saw him running down the path to his van, tucking his shirt flap into his trousers. Just as well he made his getaway when he did. Not five minutes later her husband was parking his old banger outside the front door. He slammed the car door shut as he got out. You didn’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to work out that United had lost.
I hate football, loathe it, but I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him, even when he started shouting at her whilst I was trying to watch Casualty. She’s treating him like dirt.
14 July
Sunday. The worst day of the week so far as the box is concerned. Is it any wonder that I finished up in the bedroom, listening to what was going on next door?
The truth is, I’m hooked. We’re barely acquainted, yet I know the most intimate details of their lives. It’s sad, but it’s fascinating.
I keep asking myself: what’s going to happen next? Of course, it’ll all end in tears. It always does. But how? That’s the question.
She was in a bad temper, maybe withdrawal symptoms because she’d not been able to see her fancy man. At one point, she even cracked a joke about Viagra. I won’t repeat it, it’s not the sort of thing I’d like to see put down in black and white. I must admit, I thought that she’d gone too far. But he didn’t seem to react. Just took himself off to the other bedroom and locked the door. Her ladyship wasn’t bothered. She’s looking forward to tomorrow, I’ll be bound.
And to tell the truth, so am I.
15 July
I called in sick today. I know it was wrong, but I did have a bit of a headache and besides, I wanted to follow the latest instalment of the goings-on next door. Honestly, it’s riveting. Last night I even missed a programme about the people who work in a department store, I was so wrapped up with what had been going on next door.
Her husband was out early. She was still in bed when he left, the lazy cow. I don’t think they even uttered one single word to each other. She was up and doing by the time the van arrived, though. Oh yes. She flung the door open even as he had his finger on the bell. I was in the front room at the time and I managed to catch a glimpse of her. She was wearing a housecoat. From what I heard after they went inside, she hadn’t bothered to put on anything underneath it. A slut, you see. She deserves what’s coming to her.
After they’d been in bed five minutes, I’d heard enough. More than enough. I looked up the phone number of the leisure centre. Before I knew what was happening, he was on the other end of the line.
“You’d better get home and get home fast,” I said.
“What is this?” He sounded angry, bewildered. Who wouldn’t be, in his shoes?
“Never you mind.”
“Is that you, Mrs Irlam?”
My knees almost buckled when he spoke my name. I thought I’d been rather clever in disguising my voice. I’d tried a faint Irish accent. But he’d seen through my little ruse. Of course, I panicked. Anyone would.
“You need to see what your wife gets up to when you’re out of the way,” I gabbled.
I put the phone down before he could ask any more questions and sank back into my chair. I was panting. My nerves were at full stretch. But I was excited, too.
Later
I wrote up my diary while I was waiting for him to come home. I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. But I never guessed what was going to happen.
I still had my pen and this diary in my hand when I heard the old banger pull up outside, followed by his footsteps as he crossed the patch of grass which divides the flats from the road and headed round the side of the building and into the garden. I ran to the bedroom and caught sight of him peering into the window of his own bedroom. His face was a picture, but he didn’t utter a sound.
Instead, he trembled a little, as if making up his mind. Then he hurried off to the garden shed and hid himself inside.
I was puzzled. What on earth was he doing in there? When the shed door opened again, I had my answer.
He’d dressed himself from head to toe in combat gear. A gun of some kind was slung over his shoulder. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was like something on the telly.
I ducked my head down so that he couldn’t see me. I was thrilled – who wouldn’t be, with a drama on their own doorstep? – but I was frightened too.
And then it occurred to me. It was exactly like the telly. It was as if I’d written the script of an episode for my favourite soap.
I fumbled for the diary and my pen. I’d brought them with me into the bedroom. I started to write.
Later
Oh God, oh God, oh God. This is a nightmare.
I heard a scream next door. Like a wild animal, caught in a trap. Her ladyship.
Then there were two muffled bangs. After that, nothing.
I have a phone on my bedside table, but when I picked it up, the line was dead. He’s thought of everything.
I know my scrawl is barely readable now, but I need to make a record. I’m not writing the script any more. I’m living it.
I need to escape. Outside there is still this dreadful silence. Perhaps he’s gone. I can’t stay here on the floor for ever. This is what I’ll do. I’ll risk it. I’ll get up slowly and very carefully, then look through the window to see if the coast is clear.
Now for it. I can’t hear him. It must be safe, thank god.
Margery Allingham and Short Stories
Most accomplished crime novelists demonstrate equal facility with the short story – think, nowadays, of Ian Rankin, Peter Lovesey, Ruth Rendell, and Jeffrey Deaver. Margery Allingham was no exception to the rule. Yet her short stories are, I think, unjustly neglected.
Nonetheless, the continuing appeal of those stories is evidenced by the fact that, a good many years after her death, two volumes of little known work were published. The Return of Mr Campion, a book of previously uncollected items introduced and edited by Allingham’s friend J.E. Morpurgo, and The Darings of the Red Rose.
I was also fortunate enough, when editing Mysterious Pleasures, the Golden Jubilee anthology of the Crime Writers’ Association (CWA), to be allowed the chance to include one of her stories. She was a member of the CWA for a number of years, and she contributed to a couple of its early anthologies. ‘Tall Story’ appeared in Some Like Them Dead, edited by Roy Vickers (1960) and ‘They Never Get Caught’ in Crime Writers’ Choice, again edited by Vickers (1964). At that time, and indeed until recent years, the contents of CWA anthologies largely comprised stories written and published long before (‘They Never Get Caught’, for instance, dates back to the Thirties). Allingham was no doubt persuaded to lend support to the infant venture by allowing her name to be associated with it.
Although I was strongly tempted by ‘They Never Get Caught’, I decided to stick to my plan of including in Mysterious Pleasures stories which have not previously appeared in CWA collections. Casting my net more widely enabled me to renew acquaintance with several stories which have been much anthologised in the past. Enjoyable examples include ‘Evidence in Camera’, ‘The Border-Line Case’, ‘It Didn’t Work Out’ and ‘The Lie about’. There is also some worthwhile material in ‘The Return of Mr Campion’ – unexpectedly, since such volumes tend all too often to sweep up odds and ends that have been neglected previously for very good reason. The stories in Morpurgo’s collection are admittedly a mixed bunch, but I liked especially a couple of the Campion tales. ‘The Case is Altered’ is a good take on the crime-at-Christmas sub-genre and ‘The Curious Affair of Nut-Row’ an agreeable piece of story-telling.
It is often forgotten that Allingham followed in the footsteps of Conan Doyle in that many of her early short stories were first published in Strand Magazine. Morpurgo notes that she was gratified that the magazine accepted six stories from her in 1936: ‘her gratification that this signalled her arrival as a serious writer – “me suddenly getting paid for quality instead of quantity” – was compounded by her gratitude to
the current editor, Reeves Shaw – “he taught me about as much as my father had done.”’ But the story which I chose first came out in the magazine that supplanted Strand Magazine as the premier source of short detective fiction. Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, still going strong today, published several of her stories over the years. ‘One Morning They’ll Hang Him’ appeared in the August 1950 issue and it is one of the very best of the Campion tales. It opens with Chief Inspector Kenny calling on Albert and saying: ‘If there’s one thing that makes me savage it’s futility.’ He proceeds to explain his sour mood: ‘one of those ordinary, rather depressing little stories which most murder cases are. There’s practically no mystery, no chase … nothing but a wretched little tragedy.’ From this downbeat start, the story develops splendidly.
The only reason why I hesitated over picking ‘One Morning They’ll Hang Him’ was that it has found its way into several anthologies over the years. But in the end I could not – did not want to – resist temptation, and the story duly appeared in Mysterious Pleasures. To this day, it remains an enjoyable example of the story-teller’s art. And it is also true to this day that any crime writer looking for an interesting role model could do much worse than study the eclectic work of Margery Allingham.
As for me, I’ve been reading and enjoying Allingham for more than forty years. All of which means that I was especially thrilled when a short story of mine won the very first CWA Margery Allingham prize. And I’m delighted that this special ebook edition contains not only ‘Acknowledgments’ but also two bonus stories that I wrote some years ago, and which also play games with the nature of the short story. ‘Are You Sitting Comfortably?’ was my very first crime story of any kind to achieve success – it won a prize that resulted in its being published in Bella (in the days when that magazine published fiction) and it was then picked up by Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine – all this before I’d had a single novel published: very exciting! ‘Neighbours’ is a story from the Nineties that I much enjoyed writing – and I hope that a new generation of readers will enjoy it too.
Martin Edwards
About the Author
Martin Edwards is an award-winning crime writer whose sixth and most recent Lake District Mystery, featuring DCI Hannah Scarlett and Daniel Kind, is The Frozen Shroud. Earlier books in the series are The Coffin Trail (short-listed for the Theakston’s prize for best British crime novel of 2006), The Cipher Garden, The Arsenic Labyrinth (short-listed for the Lakeland Book of the Year award), The Serpent Pool and The Hanging Wood.
Martin has written eight novels about lawyer Harry Devlin, the first of which, All the Lonely People, was short-listed for the CWA John Creasey Memorial Dagger for the best first crime novel of the year. In addition he has published a stand-alone novel of psychological suspense, Take My Breath Away, and a much acclaimed novel featuring Dr Crippen, Dancing for the Hangman. The latest Devlin novel, Waterloo Sunset, appeared in 2008.
Martin completed Bill Knox’s last book, The Lazarus Widow, and has published a collection of short stories, Where Do You Find Your Ideas? and other stories; ‘Test Drive’ was short-listed for the CWA Short Story Dagger in 2006, while ‘The Bookbinder’s Apprentice’ won the same Dagger in 2008. In 2014 he was the inaugural winner of the CWA Margery Allingham Short Story Prize for ‘Acknowledgements’.
A well-known commentator on crime fiction, he has edited more than twenty anthologies and published eight non-fiction books, including a study of homicide investigation, Urge to Kill. He is also the author of a ground-breaking study of Golden Age detective fiction, The Golden Age of Murder, to be published in 2014. In 2008 he was elected to membership of the prestigious Detection Club. He was subsequently appointed Archivist to the Detection Club, and is also Archivist to the Crime Writers’ Association. He received the Red Herring Award for services to the CWA in 2011.
In his spare time Martin is a partner in a national law firm, Weightmans LLP. His website is www.martinedwardsbooks.com and his blog www.doyouwriteunderyourownname.blogspot.com/
Bibliography
Harry Devlin Series
All the Lonely People (1991)
Suspicious Minds (1992)
I Remember You (1993)
Yesterday’s Papers (1994)
Eve of Destruction (1996)
The Devil in Disguise (1998)
First Cut Is the Deepest (1999)
Waterloo Sunset (2008).
Lake District Mysteries
The Coffin Trail (2004)
The Cipher Garden (2005)
The Arsenic Labyrinth (2007).
The Serpent Pool (2010)
The Hanging Wood (2011)
The Frozen Shroud (2013)
Other Novels
The Lazarus Widow (with Bill Knox) (1999)
Take My Breath Away (2002)
Dancing for the Hangman (2008)
Collected Short stories
Where Do You Find Your Ideas? and Other Stories (2001)
Anthologies edited
Northern Blood (1992)
Northern Blood 2 (1995)
Anglian Blood (with Robert Church) (1995)
Perfectly Criminal (1996)
Whydunit? (1997)
Past Crimes (1998)
Northern Blood 3 (1998)
Missing Persons (1999)
Scenes of Crime (2000)
Murder Squad (2001)
Green for Danger (2003)
Mysterious Pleasures (2003)
Crime in the City (2004)
Crime on the Move (2005)
I.D.: crimes of identity (2006)
The Trinity Cat and other mysteries (with Sue Feder) (2006)
M.O.: crimes of practice (2008)
Original Sins (2010)
Best Eaten Cold (2011)
Guilty Consciences (2011)
Deadly Pleasures (2013)
Guilty Parties (2014)
Non-fiction
Understanding Computer Contracts (1983)
Understanding Dismissal Law (two editions)
Managing Redundancies (1986)
Executive Survival (two editions)
Careers in the Law (six editions)
Know-How for Employment Lawyers (with others) (1995)
Urge to Kill (2002)
Tolley’s Equal Opportunities Handbook (four editions)
This electronic edition published in 2014 by Bloomsbury Reader
Bloomsbury Reader is a division of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 50 Bedford Square, London WC1B 3DP
Copyright © 2014 Martin Edwards
Foreword copyright © 2014 Julia Jones
All rights reserved
You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
The moral right of the author is asserted.
eISBN: 9781448214686
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