A Beginner’s Guide to Murder

Home > Other > A Beginner’s Guide to Murder > Page 14
A Beginner’s Guide to Murder Page 14

by Rosalind Stopps


  ‘Do you know,’ I said, ‘to most people all old women look the same? It’s true, honestly, they did a test with students, all young, and they asked them to memorise eight older faces. They left them for twelve hours then showed them twenty-four to choose from and nearly all of them got less than four right. They didn’t even get the right nationalities, they chose mainly white when half of the women weren’t white, that sort of thing. So, we’re almost anonymous. We can relax.’

  ‘Is that true?’ Grace asked.

  I changed the subject but I think she knew. Henry would have hammered away at me until I admitted I made it up to make myself feel better.

  She smiled at me.

  ‘We’ll be OK, Meg, it’ll be fine,’ she said.

  I could have kissed her. Daphne probably would have.

  They walked more quickly than us, so we had arranged to meet them by the stone circle. I couldn’t help thinking we looked suspicious, but we wouldn’t be overheard. The stone circle has been in the local park since the year two thousand, and locals are as proud of it as if it had been there from prehistoric times. It’s tucked away at the top of the park behind the café. I like to go there on sunny days and watch the children and the dogs playing, so I hoped that whatever was going to happen didn’t spoil that for me in any way. It was odd to be there as part of a group, instead of on my own. I’m usually on my own.

  Des and Daphne were already there when we got to the stones. Daphne was amazing. She and Grace were so strong. So cool, so collected, it made me feel better just to look at them. They clearly belonged together. I heard a burst of soaring, tuneful violin and I felt relaxed and ready.

  ‘Hello, everyone,’ Daphne said.

  She beamed as if we had all gone to her house for a cocktail party. Grace and I couldn’t help smiling.

  ‘It’s an honour to help you ladies,’ Des said, still staring down at Henry’s socks.

  There’s a cracked sundial on the ground between the standing stones, and I was looking at it when they arrived, Des’s contacts, so I didn’t see where they came from. It was as if they’d dropped to the ground from outer space, or been parachuted from a passing plane. One minute they weren’t there, and the next they were. Two of them, a man and a woman, and nothing like I expected. Nothing at all. I wasn’t expecting a woman, for a start. I didn’t think it was any sort of job for a woman but the world has changed, moved on, and Henry always said I was behind the times. They were both rather small, and that was the next surprise. I mean really small, because I’m only five foot one and I almost felt like a basketball player next to the woman. The man was probably an inch or two taller than me. They were broad, stout even, and they both looked like people you wouldn’t mess with, despite their height. That was good, I liked that about them.

  ‘Erm, we all know why we’re here,’ Des said, ‘so we don’t need any introductions.’ Everyone nodded and for a moment I was reminded of a church service, the bit at the beginning where the priest says something like, Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today.

  The man looked to the woman. She was clearly the spokesperson for the two of them.

  ‘We don’t often do business with ladies,’ she said, ‘and I must say it’s a pleasure. Des here has given us an outline of the problem we need to deal with and in principle, in principle only, we are happy with the terms and conditions he has set out. As I understand it, we are to turn up when told, and carry out a job for you, clearing up afterwards if possible. Any questions so far?’

  We all shook our heads. I didn’t think any of us were able to speak.

  ‘These are our terms. We would like half of the money up front, today if possible, and half when the act has been completed. Should anything go wrong, there must be nothing to lead from us to you, and nothing to lead from you to us. Understand? So no emails, texts, using your phone for calls, we’ll do everything the old-fashioned way.’

  ‘I don’t like computers,’ the man said.

  I could see Daphne trying to give him a sympathetic look but the small woman got in first and shot him a terrifying scowl. He didn’t say anything else.

  ‘How soon do you think you can arrange a meet?’ the woman said.

  ‘I’m not a hundred per cent sure,’ Daphne said, ‘but I think it would be best to do it as soon as possible. We should be able to tell you within the next twenty-four hours.’

  I had been hoping that Daphne would tell them about the phone I had given Nina, but when I thought about it I could see that she needed to keep information to a minimum.

  ‘Right,’ the short woman said. ‘For the purposes of this proposed action, you can call me Clara. It’s not my real name. You take this phone, use it when you tell me the time and place. It’s new and mine is the only number on the SIM card. Throw it away afterwards. You got that?’

  Suddenly the whole scene stopped feeling like a game, or something on TV. It felt scary, and it felt real. Someone was going to die, because we wanted to stop him hurting any more young girls and because we needed to rescue Nina. We were going to make this happen. I had a sudden lurch in my stomach and I think the others did too. We all looked at each other and then looked away, as if we each had to find something else to focus on. Something safe. Of course it was then that I noticed the dog with the couple. With the man, to be exact. I don’t know how I’d missed it before, but I had. Probably because it was so quiet. Henry used to say that small dogs were the worst, always yapping and trying to prove that they were big dogs at heart, but this little scrap was as quiet as a mouse on a lead. The male assassin saw me looking and sent me a very small smile.

  ‘She’s called Shoe,’ he said.

  Clara shot him a killer look and he turned to stare straight ahead.

  I clamped my hands to my sides to stop myself going over to stroke Shoe. I could just imagine how soft she would feel under my fingers, and how glad she would probably be for a bit of attention. I smiled at her instead, some dogs like that, and I think she was one of them. I hoped they weren’t going to take her with them when they did whatever they did.

  There was a silence.

  ‘Have you got references?’ Grace said.

  She looked slightly worried, which was unusual for Grace. I was glad she had asked.

  ‘Ha,’ Clara said, ‘sensible question. You’re thinking, have this pair of clowns ever done anything like this before, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’m sure if Des recommends you,’ Grace said, ‘that’s good enough, but it would be useful to know.’

  I marvelled at how professional she sounded. Des bit his nails and stared off into the distance.

  ‘We operate on a need-to-know basis,’ Clara said, ‘but I can assure you we have glowing references, if only we could show them to you.’

  ‘Need to know’ had been one of Henry’s favourite phrases. He often used it to keep me out of things, so I had a bit of resistance to it, although I understood why she would say it. Grace still looked worried.

  ‘Maybe we could discuss that on a more intimate basis,’ she said.

  She motioned and the two of them walked a little way away from the rest of us. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could see Clara talk and gesticulate and I’m not sure if it was my imagination but I thought Grace stepped back from her. Just a small step.

  We were an awkward group left kicking our heels. Me, Daphne, Des and the small killer with the dog, Shoe. I bent down and stroked her. I tried to think of things to say, but I could only come up with ‘Nice dog.’

  ‘Thanks,’ the killer said, ‘she’s a star.’

  Grace and Clara came back and Grace nodded to show us that she was satisfied with whatever Clara had said.

  ‘One more thing,’ Daphne said. ‘I’d like to know, even though it might be difficult to be clear, what method you are going to use.’

  Value for money, I thought, of course we need to know. Another Henry phrase. I wondered how he would get on if it was him who was here negotiating. Would he be better a
t it than us? And what would he have done if that lovely girl had run into the café while he was sitting there? I thought I knew.

  ‘Other people’s lives, Meg, other people’s lives.’

  He used to say that to me whenever I got upset about something awful that had happened, a flood or a tsunami or tiny children left with no parents. Babies at borders in cages, young women being beheaded, schoolgirls captured for slaves. It didn’t matter how gruesome the story, to Henry it was just ‘other people’s lives’. So I can guess that’s what he would have said.

  For a moment I forgot where I was, that’s how real Henry seemed. Thinking about those words really brought him back. I’m different now, I wanted to shout at him, I’ve got friends and everything, we’re doing something important. I pictured him at the end, when he was gasping for breath. Poor Henry.

  I tuned back in and heard Clara say, ‘The method is not important. It will be determined by the research that is done beforehand.’

  Her partner bent down to fuss with the dog. It was clear that he was embarrassed by Clara’s speech. I thought that given the choice, he might be the easier of the two to talk to and I resolved to mention this to the others later.

  ‘There will be a short surveillance interval, after which you will arrange a meeting offering money,’ Clara said. ‘Is that understood?’

  Des tried and failed to look nonchalant about the way things were going and his part in it. He stood there, resplendent in Henry’s coat, jumper, socks, underpants and trousers and I moved a little closer to him. I liked that he was wearing Henry’s clothes, I think, that was all.

  Daphne handed over an envelope of money and the meeting was over. I felt closer to Nina already. We went home, and this time I went into the house through the French windows with Grace. It’s an odd way to enter your own home but I understood it was for the best. Des came too. He wanted to stay, and I could see that he was relieved when I didn’t ask him to leave.

  It was awkward at my house. I think we all needed to be alone with our thoughts and our worries, but instead, there we all were, together as if it was an afternoon tea party. I kept thinking of Nina and I wanted to howl and cry but I had to keep myself together for the others, and I guess they felt the same way. Des broke the silence.

  ‘Shall I just put the hoover round, ladies?’ he said. ‘No need for anyone to get up.’

  I was shocked. No one has ever hoovered this house except for me, and I thought the carpets would be shocked too. They had probably never realised that men could do housework.

  ‘No, it’s fine,’ I said, ‘thank you for asking.’

  ‘Oh Meg,’ Grace said, ‘we can’t help Nina right now, not this second. And we’ve foisted ourselves on you, probably walked in all manner of dirt. I can see that you usually run a tight ship, why don’t you let him help?’

  I felt a little bit panicky. I didn’t want to make too much of refusing help, but on the other hand I was terribly worried in case he discovered ancient piles of dust under chairs and thought I was a terrible housekeeper. In the end I couldn’t help thinking, what does any of it matter when poor Nina is with that man?

  I needn’t have worried anyway. Des was of the surface school of cleaning, going carefully round objects and furniture as if they were militarised no-go areas. We didn’t speak about the matter of the contract for a few minutes, and then Grace said, ‘I’m not ecstatic about this. What does anyone else think?’

  ‘Nor me,’ Daphne said, ‘but I think there’s still a chance things could turn out OK. I mean, when we offer him the cash, if we make it tempting enough, he may just take it and run, I mean really actually hand her over. What did Clara say, when you talked to her on her own?’

  I was glad that Daphne had asked. I wanted to know too.

  ‘She thought there was a possibility that he might take the money and give us Nina,’ Grace said, ‘but I got the feeling she was clutching at straws. I’m not even sure that they’ve ever done anything like this before. I mean they talk the talk, but…’

  ‘There’s a chance, though,’ I said. ‘They knew quite a lot about it, and it’s got to be better than nothing. We have to try. And maybe we can do it with money. Think of that!’

  I didn’t mention that Henry had been a believer in every person having their price. It wouldn’t have helped. I hoped so much that we could avoid any more bloodshed. I don’t even like killing wasps, although there was something else nagging at the back of my head, something about Henry but I wasn’t sure exactly what. There was a complete silence on the violin front, which was welcome if not particularly helpful.

  Grace seemed happy at the idea of avoiding the killing.

  ‘Oh wouldn’t that be great,’ she said, ‘just to pay him off and that would be that, no harm done.’

  ‘Erm, I have a good insight into the criminal mind,’ Des said, ‘which, pardon me, I don’t think you ladies have.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Grace said, ‘we haven’t led quite such sheltered lives as you think we have.’

  She sounded slightly snappy. I looked at Daphne and we made brief, polite, grimacing faces at each other. It would be the worst thing if Grace and Des fell out with each other. And I actually have had a sheltered life, I thought. I wished for one second that I had sold the house and moved to a seaside bungalow when Henry died. A lot of people do.

  ‘No offence meant,’ Des said, ‘only his type, they’re scum if you’ll pardon my expression. He would sell his grandmother down the river for ten pence. I’ll bet you any money you like he has no redeeming qualities at all. No amount of money will be enough for him. Not to mention the fact that if he’s spared, as it were, it’ll be some other poor girl next time.’

  ‘I know,’ Daphne said. ‘I know that really, but I just hate to think—’

  ‘Maybe we should tackle it head on,’ Grace said, ‘think through the various methods so that nothing comes as a shock. Do you think that might help?’

  Daphne looked doubtful.

  ‘It’s just I knew someone like him once,’ she said, ‘when I was at university, and he was a terrible person, I see that now, he did a lot of harm but at the time, I didn’t always realise. I used to collect nice facts about him, like he always called his mum on Sundays and he once fed a stray cat, that sort of thing.’

  We all stared at Daphne, wondering where this could possibly be going.

  ‘It made me realise,’ she said, ‘that there are, you know, good things sometimes about people. Even bad people.’

  This seemed such a surprising but true thing to say that I couldn’t think how to answer. You see, Henry? I thought. You see what subtleties you miss by being so sure about everything?

  ‘Some people may have little patches of good,’ Grace said, ‘and I can see how that would make a person think twice. But that man will use that little girl just to make money for himself. He’ll use her and allow her to be used again and again and again until she isn’t Nina any more. Remember what she said about him wanting her soul, or however it was she said it. She’ll get hooked on drugs or alcohol or both and there will be absolutely no hope for her. I’ve seen it happen.’

  The me of me, I thought, that’s how she said it. The me of me.

  ‘I know,’ said Daphne, ‘I have seen it too. Men have been selling women’s bodies for ever, probably. I know we’re doing the right thing, but still.’

  ‘Well, I’m not sure if I’ve seen it before or not,’ I said, ‘but I know a very bad egg when I see one, without having to crack the shell open and smell it.’

  They laughed at that. It lightened the atmosphere, but I meant it.

  ‘Maybe if we talk about it, the nitty-gritty, normalise what’s happening, it might help,’ Des said. ‘I went to this group thing in prison, where we were encouraged to talk about the things we didn’t want to talk about, so that we could, erm, confront them. It didn’t work too well then, but it might now.’

  I think we were all so surprised at the idea that specific murder talk might
be helpful that none of us spoke. We just gawped at him.

  ‘Cars,’ he said. ‘That would be a favourite for me, if I had a choice. Running someone over, it doesn’t look deliberate, everyone is happy. That Russian poison stuff if we could get hold of any. It’s quick, it’s clean and they’d think he had Russian connections. It could work.’

  ‘I don’t think,’ said Grace, ‘that it’s available to purchase on the open market.’

  I was glad that the twinkle was back in her eye.

  ‘Bees,’ Des said, undaunted. ‘Bees are a friend to all but a deadly enemy to some. If he’s allergic, bam, but even if not, a thousand bee stings all together can kill the average human. Depending on body weight, of course.’

  ‘Of course,’ Grace said.

  ‘Poison in the food,’ Des went on, really enjoying himself now. ‘Lots of people die of food poisoning every year and no one knows how much of it is deliberate.’

  I thought of Henry, drinking his soup. Tastes vile, he’d said, have you poisoned it?

  ‘Of course, the good old London Underground,’ Des said. ‘Crowded platforms, people not standing behind the yellow line, anything can happen. And it does.’

  I could see that Grace had heard enough. She had managed to keep it light but she looked exhausted now, and I hoped that Des could pick up the signals. She looked at Daphne and I think a message went between them. I was relieved.

  ‘That’s probably enough,’ Daphne said. ‘I don’t think this is helping. If we’re going to get through the next few days, maybe we should talk about the matter in hand as little as possible. Unless we’re trying to work out a back-up method, if we think our first plan won’t work.’

  Des looked disappointed.

  ‘I haven’t even finished,’ he said, ‘there’s loads more, honestly.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Nina

  January – one month earlier

  In just over a month Nina’s world had changed. Christmas had come and gone without her even noticing. She no longer studied, or read, or even talked to anyone. She often wished that she was dead, but anything she might have been able to kill herself with was kept away from her as carefully as if she was in a locked psychiatric ward, or a prison cell. No belt for the dressing gown they’d given her, no razor for her legs unless she was supervised, and absolutely no leaving the house alone.

 

‹ Prev