by G. M. Dobbs
She sobbed and gradually those sobs intensified until her entire body shook with the raw emotion. She needed to get it out of her system and was grateful that she was alone to do so.
Granny’s mobile rang, startling her.
The caller display announced the caller was Amy.
‘Hello,’ Granny said, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.
‘Granny,’ Amy said, sounding more than a little upset herself. ‘I’ve just heard. Oh my God it must have been terrible for you.’
Granny sniffed, said: ‘It was a shock but I’ll survive.’
‘I’ve heard all sorts,’ Amy continued, seemingly without taking a breath. ‘Poor Carol. Who would do such a thing?’
‘Who indeed?’ Granny asked. The old woman was aware that there would be many more phone calls like this one. The news was out about Carol’s death and there was no doubt that it was also public knowledge that it was Granny who had found the body.
‘Terrible,’ Amy started to sob into the phone. ‘Terrible.’
‘Look,’ Granny said. She didn’t need this right now, nor did she want to take a string of telephone calls. Yet she knew they, all the members of the action group would want to talk to her. ‘I’m not feeling myself at the moment.’
Now it was Amy’s turn to interrupt.
‘That’s no small wonder,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ Granny agreed. ‘I’m going to take a lie down but look if you can get all the others together it would be a great help. Arrange for everyone to be in the Bully at eight tonight and I can talk to you all together.’
‘I will,’ Amy said. She paused for a moment, as though considering what else to say but then she simply added in a soft voice: ‘You take it easy. I’ll see you tonight.’
‘Yes,’ Granny said and kept the mobile phone to her ear long after the call had ended. Most murderers were known to their victims, Granny thought and she wondered if Carol’s killer could be one of the members of the action group. It was a possibility, of course but for a moment the old woman pushed it to the back of her mind.
The mobile rang again.
This time the caller display announced that it was Mark.
Granny didn’t answer it and after rejecting the call she turned her phone off left it on the arm of her chair while she made her was upstairs. She didn’t think she’d been able to sleep but all the same she was going to try.
Chief Inspector Miskin sat behind his desk with a look on his face that could have curdled milk. The body in the pond perplexed him – although the cause of death had yet to be determined the initial report did suggest that it had been a murder. Apparently the woman’s body showed some evidence of a violent struggle and although the full examination had yet to be completed Dr Carver, the police pathologist, had told Miskin that he didn’t think the woman had drowned. It was of course all guesswork until a full autopsy was carried out but Carver, a man who looked as if he had been born to be a pathologist and would have possibly been a grave robber had he been born a couple of centuries earlier, was convinced the woman was already dead when she was dropped into the water.
‘I’ll get her cut and sliced and tell you later,’ he had said with glee. Carver was an odd-looking character – tall, cadaverously thin, with gangly limbs that often seemed to operate independently of each other. He had both the complexion and manner of a vampire and constantly carried the aroma of strong disinfectant around with him, which meant that people tended to avoid him whenever it was possible.
Miskin was certainly glad when the doctor left his office, no doubt eager to get to his work. The chief inspector sat in a thoughtful silence for several moments before picking up the telephone and punching the number for an internal connection. A moment later the switchboard answered and Miskin asked for Special Constable Davies, Dai Twice, to be sent to his office.
Twenty minutes went before there was a knock and Dai Twice peered nervously around the door.
‘You asked to see me,’ Twice said.
‘Come in,’ Miskin barked. ‘Close the door. Sit down.’
Twice did so. Though sitting down first and then getting back up to close the door before once again sitting down. He smiled at the chief inspector and audibly swallowed, wondering what he had done. It was extremely rare, practically unheard of, for a special constable to be called into the office of a senior detective.
Miskin didn’t look at Twice for several moments, instead keeping his eyes buried in the report he was studying. It was a tactical move and the chief inspector couldn’t care less about the report he held, but he did like to set the perimeters with his men. He was the boss and there was no forgetting that, so he was pleased to see that Twice was visibly sweating when he did finally look at him.
‘This Granny Smith woman,’ the chief inspector said. ‘I believe you know her quite well?’
‘Yes,’ Twice nodded. ‘I’ve known her since I was a child. I’m distantly related on her husband’s side.’
‘That’s good,’ the chief inspector smiled. ‘Because I want you to keep an eye on her.’
‘Keep an eye on her?’
‘Yes. If she gets up to anything that relates to the death of the unfortunate woman in the pool then I want to know.’
‘You think Granny knows who the killer is?’
‘No,’ the chief inspector thought for a moment. What did he think? He wasn’t totally sure yet. It was early days and until he had the findings of the autopsy on his desk he wasn’t going to come up with any theories at all. There was still the chance that the woman’s death had been accidental, and although this seemed unlikely given Carver’s initial findings, it was still a slim possibility.
‘We know from past experience that the old woman’s got a talent for fumbling about and stumbling onto things,’ the chief inspector continued. ‘ I’d like you to stick close to her. Shouldn’t be a problem with you being related and all.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Twice inwardly smiled to himself. In a way this was like going undercover which was something that special constables never got to do. The next time someone said that he wasn’t a real policeman he would smile knowingly and point out that he had taken part in an undercover operation. That fact ought to shut them up.
‘Of course,’ Miskin continued. ‘You can also keep the old woman out of trouble. I won’t tolerate her interfering in a police investigation and if she gets under my feet I will do everything in my power to lock her up.’
‘Don’t worry, sir,’ Twice said. He would be the first to admit that Granny could be a pain in the arse but he hated the thought of her being locked in a police cell. In fact he pitied the man foolish enough to try locking her up.
‘Good man,’ Miskin said. ‘I knew I could depend on you, Davies.’
‘I’ll keep Granny under control and if she does discover anything useful then you’ll be the first to know.’ Twice said with a feeling of great worth.
Eleven
Granny found it difficult to sleep.
When she closed her eyes she saw Carol’s dead eyes peering at her and after almost an hour of tossing and turning Granny got up, and smoked a pipe before going downstairs and starting to clean. She needed to keep herself busy if she was to get through this day. She did the few dishes that were left on the draining board and then pulled the vacuum cleaner from the cubbyhole beneath the stairs.
The carpets didn’t need cleaning but Granny would give them all a once over in any case. Before switching the cleaner on she went to the stereo system and, in the mood for something bright and bouncy, selected a Status Quo album (12 Gold Bars) from her vast CD collection. As soon as the boogie guitar of Rockin’ all over the World kicked in, Granny used her foot to turn the cleaner on and started to head-bang along to the music as she pushed the cleaner around the living room.
Three songs later and Granny had cleaned both the living room and the hallway, but by this point Granny had lost herself in the music and was using the tube
of the vacuum as a makeshift guitar, strumming along to Paper Plane and shaking her head to the beat of the drums. Mid song she looked up and saw Maud standing in the living room. The woman was staring open mouthed at Granny, a look of both amusement and concern upon her face.
Granny footed the cleaner off and went and turned the music down several settings.
‘I was cleaning,’ Granny said.
‘I tried phoning,’ Maud replied. ‘Your mobile was off and you weren’t answering the landline.’
‘My battery ran down,’ Granny lied. ‘I’ve got to charge the mobile. I didn’t hear the landline.’
‘I knocked before I walked in,’ Maud said. ‘Shouted, cooeey too. I don’t suppose you heard that either?’
‘You know what I’m like,’ Granny smiled. ‘Between the music and the cleaner I couldn’t hear anything. A bomb could fall and I’d be none the wiser.’
‘Yes,’ Maud smiled. ‘I heard about Carol.’
‘Tea?’ Granny said and wandered off into the kitchen.
Maud, as usual, followed Granny though.
‘They say you found Carol. Is that true?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ Granny nodded and poured boiling water from the kettle into the teapot. She grabbed two mugs from the rack. ‘It’s true. I found her.’
‘That must have been awful for you.’
‘I’ve had better days,’ Granny stirred the teapot so that the leaves would soak quicker.
‘You poor thing,’ Maud moved forward as if to give her friend a hug but she pulled back when Granny started pouring the thick tea from the pot and into the mugs.
‘Come on let’s take these through to the living room,’ Granny handed a mug to Maud and took her own through. She sat herself down in her usual chair and grabbed her mobile phone. As soon as she switched it on the display told her that she had sixteen missed calls.
‘It was on the radio news,’ Maud said. ‘There weren’t many details but it did say the police are treating it as suspicious circumstances.’
‘Carol was murdered,’ Granny said, firmly.
Suddenly the front door opened and Arthur came stumbling through. He was short of breath and he looked first at his wife and then at Maud before falling back into his chair.
‘I’ve just heard,’ he said and then looked at his wife with great concern. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m fine,’ Granny said. ‘It weren’t me that was killed.’
‘Must have given you a turn, though,’ Maud said.
‘Aye,’ Granny said. ‘It did that.’
And then Granny told the both of them what had happened. She told them she had gone to the pond in order to remove the protest posters. It seemed the wise thing to do since it had been established that there were no lesser-crested frogs in the pond. She went into the details of finding Carol’s body, describing the way she had been laying and the awful look on her dead face. She neglected to tell them of the photographs she had taken, feeling it best to keep that part to herself.
‘There’s likely some maniac about,’ Arthur said once his wife had finished her story. ‘I don’t want you going up that meadow again.’
‘Yes, oh masterful one,’ Granny gave her husband the finger. ‘If the police don’t find whoever it was that killed Carol then I will.’
‘And I’ll help you,’ Maud said.
‘And I’m going down the pub,’ Arthur said and pulled himself to his feet. He knew it was no use arguing with his wife. She had spent their entire marriage not really listening to a word he said so it wasn’t as if she was going to start now.
‘Now remember what I told you,’ Granny said as they stood outside the Bully that evening.
Maud nodded. Granny had told to keep an eye on everyone, try and gauge their reactions during the meeting. Granny felt that when she told the story of how she had found Carol, the reactions of those listening would speak volumes. It was not that the old woman particularly suspected any of them of having done for Carol, but rather that the killer could be anyone and she couldn’t rule any of them out. The only thing Granny was sure of, she had told Maud, was that the killer would not turn out to be some random maniac. Granny was convinced that the killer would have a very real connection to Carol and perhaps to them also.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I won’t miss anything.’
‘Good,’ Granny’s hand hovered over the door handle. ‘Ready?’
Maud nodded, gave Granny the thumbs up.
Granny pushed open the door and they both walked into the pub. Arthur was in one corner playing darts with his usual cronies and Granny gave him a little wave and motioned that she would leave him a drink behind the bar.
Arthur waved back and immediately turned back to the darts board. He threw and smiled when the dart stuck true, giving him double top, which started him off in the game.
Granny ordered a drink for her and Maud and told the landlord to take for Arthur’s next pint. She handed a drink to Maud and then they both made their way over to the table where the remaining members of the action group were waiting. Amy had been good to her word and had gotten the entire group together. It didn’t surprise Granny since death often brought out the ghoulish in people. They would each want to know all the gruesome details.
‘So we had the wrong type of frogs,’ Granny said as she sat down. It wasn’t the opening many of them had expected and they all stared at Granny.
‘Doesn’t seem important now,’ Mark said. He cupped his pint in his hands and held his face down, peering into the amber liquid.
Granny nodded and took a sip of her stout and for a moment silence fell over the group. The old woman looked at each of them in turn, studying their expressions, trying to read something in their faces. All of them looked equally morose, though Sue looked to be particularly devastated and her eyes were red raw. It was clear she had spent a great deal of the day in tears.
Were Sue and Carol particularly close? Granny didn’t think so but then she supposed that in many ways Carol was close to each and every one of them. And some people were far more emotional than others, Granny reasoned, so she couldn’t read too much into Sue’s appearance.
‘I still can’t believe she’s gone,’ Sue said and they all nodded their heads in agreement. She sniffed and then started to sob, which prompted Amy to place a comforting arm around her which Sue rebuked, pushing the arm away.
‘Terrible,’ Mansall said and then he too had to sniff back the tears.
Once again Granny found herself relating the terrible events of the morning. She went through it all – giving the reasons as to why she had decided to visit the pond, detailing her shock at seeing Carol there and of running into the water and hoping against hope that she had been alive. Once again the old woman neglected to mention the photographs she had taken.
‘What do the police think?’ Mark asked.
‘They haven’t the imagination to think anything,’ Granny said. ‘They won’t even call it a murder until the body has been examined.’
‘Make sense, I suppose,’ Mark said.
‘The radio did say it was being treated as suspicious circumstances,’ Maud reminded Granny.
‘I saw Carol’s face,’ Granny said. ‘I’ve no doubt that she was murdered.’
Granny thought she detected something in Mark’s face them, an involuntary twitch perhaps. The others simply sat there, none of them saying a word, likely lost in their own thoughts.
‘Of course the chief inspector seemed to have his suspicions,’ Granny said, keeping her eyes trained on Mark as she spoke. ‘He said the killer, whoever it turned out to be, would have unknowingly left clues on the body.
Maud cast a startled glance at Granny, wondering where all this had come from. She hadn’t mentioned any of this earlier.
‘What kind of clues?’ she asked.
Granny frowned at her oldest friend.
‘Well I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I’m not a policeman but when they get the body into the lab there’s no
telling what they’ll find.’
‘They can tell things from DNA,’ Mansall, who owned several CSI box sets and had watched them all more than once, said. ‘No matter how careful a killer is there’s always something left behind on the victim. Skin under a fingernail, hairs on clothing. Some of the stuff the boffins can do seems like magic.’
‘Why would anyone want to kill Carol?’ Sue said and had to excuse herself as emotion overtook her. Once again Amy tried to comfort her but Sue got up and made a quick dash to the toilets.
‘I’ll make sure she’s okay,’ Amy said and ran after her.
Mark watched the women go and then took a large gulp of his pint, draining it. He stood up and went to the bar. Mansall downed his own pint and then smiled at Granny and Maud before heading for the bar himself.
As soon as they were alone Maud leaned in closer to Granny.
‘What was all that about clues on the body?’ she asked.
‘I was fishing,’ Granny said.
‘So the police didn’t say anything about clues on the body?’
Granny rolled her eyes, thinking that Maud just wasn’t cut out for detective work. She was about to tell her so when she noticed Amy returning.
‘How’s Sue?’ Granny asked as Amy sat down.
‘She’ll be okay,’ Amy said. ‘She’s taking a minute.’
Granny nodded, wished she could smoke her pipe in the pub but due to the smoking ban she would have to wait until she went outside.
‘I bet Mark feels bad,’ Amy said.
‘Why Mark?’ Granny asked. As far as the old woman knew Mark hadn’t been particularly close to Carol.
Amy looked over her shoulder, checking that Mark was still at the bar.
‘I shouldn’t really tell you this,’ she said, leaning in towards Granny and Maud and speaking in a hushed tone. She told them the story that Mark had told her and Sue the night before, of how he had slept with Carol and then been given the cold shoulder. She had also pointed out that Mark had confessed to feeling like killing Carol.