by Colin Davy
That left Gail as a loose end, but he suspected the police would clear her, probably to Maria’s annoyance, but his job would be complete. Finally, a polite version of “I don’t want to leave you, Maria, but I feel I ought to go.”’
Unfortunately, he’d stumbled at the first hurdle. His name-sake had given a good impression of the village idiot, and Liverpool was a big village. Did Sherlock Holmes ever have to interrogate a well-meaning moron?
Finding the keys at last, he looked up to find her waiting, those blue eyes fixed on him. A few droplets of sweat beaded her forehead and her bare arms showed the beginnings of a faint redness. The silver cross around her neck had sunk into her cleavage and disappeared from sight as if it was fading too.
He’d miss Maria. Even though he’d drifted into this relationship like a leaf tossed there by a capricious wind. Thinking back, she’d been spot on about his future. Fate had decided his future and he’d had no say. Although he could walk away, it would take a combination of determination and cruelty he didn’t possess, and she’d known that.
At least, they’d managed to fit in a visit to Southport earlier to pick up fresh clothing, along with a small lap-top. “To check my e-mails,” she explained when they arrived, even though she didn’t offer to show the one from Caitlyn Jones.
“You could check them on my computer at the flat,” he’d said.
“Next to your porn store, I suppose?” Her teasing smile had lingered.
“I don’t have any,” he said truthfully.”
“You don’t?” she’d said. “You must be an unusual man.”
He’d decided to smile back. “You’re been meeting strange men.”
She’d smiled again before sitting down on her bed. “Do you mind if I have a shower before we go back,” she’d said. “It’s so warm.” She’d shook her head at his frown. “I won’t be long.”
“Go ahead,” he’d said. “We’ll save money by sharing the water.”
She’d smiled again but shook her head. “You’ve seen enough of my body already.”
That exchange had had been during the early afternoon, before lack of sleep had caught up with them. Since then, the humid day had taken the colour from her cheeks, and the shower had proved only a temporary relief.
He’d become grumpier too as the day wore on, and the last thing they needed was keeping up appearances with visitors.
Collapsing onto the settee now, she gave her opinion of his interrogation technique. “Don’t give up the day job, Gary,” she said. “Asking vague questions encourages vague answers, but it doesn’t matter anyway.”
“Why?”
“The answer lies elsewhere,” she said. “With the congregation.”
Although he didn’t agree, there was little point arguing.
“I know,” she said softly. “I’m asking a lot, and you’ve already given so much, but you’re the key to this.” Gripping his hand, she squeezed slowly. “Trust me,” she whispered. “You have to trust me.”
He was saved from answering by a knock on the door. Outside, stood two men carrying bouquets of flowers with cards attached. After mutual kisses and commiserations for Maria, they moved into the front room, depositing the flowers on the coffee table. “Thanks for looking after Maria,” Keith said to Gary. “You’re a Godsend.”
Exactly, he thought, and literally what Maria thinks too.
Dropping onto the settee with John Wemyss beside him, Keith stared out the French windows. “A nice view,” he said.
“One of the reasons for buying the place,” Gary said, and with the bright sunlight glistening off the calm waters, he remembered when he first moved in. He’d had plenty of time to enjoy the view since, taking care not to get friendly with his neighbours - a trait Sophie commented on often. Leaving Maria to take the only available chair he sought refuge in the kitchen alcove and perched on the high stool, letting the stilted conversation pass him by. The two men looked suitably solemn and although they’d dressed in dark clothing for the occasion, neither looked particularly menacing or exuded evil. Sorry, Maria, he thought, your faith in my powers was always misplaced.
Keith might be reasonably presentable, but he had the charisma of a wet lettuce. John, having the look of a bruiser, was no smooth-talking Machiavelli. But he’d wait before delivering his verdict. The ring of his mobile gave him the chance to escape to his bedroom and he took it, pushing the bedroom door closed behind him. “Gary?” A female voice, and one he recognised by the South Liverpool accent. “It’s Gail,” she said.
“Oh, yes,” he said. “We met on Sunday.”
“That’s right, can you get away for a few minutes?”
“You mean outside the flat?”
“Yes.”
“That’s difficult,” he said. “We have visitors.”
“I know.”
“How?” She had his full attention now.
“I’m parked on the dock road outside,” she said. “Is there any chance you could slip out later?”
“Not really, Gail, what’s this about?” The short silence that followed question worried him. “Gail?”
“I’m still here,” she said. “Sitting on some information you may find useful.”
“Which is?”
The phone went quiet, but he could hear hurried breathing. “Can I meet you when your visitors have gone?” she said finally. “But don’t tell Maria.”
“Why not?”
“Don’t tell Maria,” she repeated. “Leave her out of this, she doesn’t need to know. As she’s probably told you, we never got on. She always believed I intended taking Deborah from her. I’ve important information about Deborah’s death. Have you met Deborah’s neighbour yet?”
“William?”
“You know him?”
“Yes,” he said. “Look Gail, what’s all this about and where does Maria come in?”
“She doesn’t, not yet.”
“But-”
“As soon as they leave, come and meet me. I’ll be parked in a blue Astra on the Dock Road, outside the Cash and Carry. I’ll be waiting for you, but don’t call this number because I won’t answer. For God’s sake, keep this to yourself.”
“I’ll try but-” It was too late, she’d rung off. He stood for a moment in two minds. Should he tell Maria about this, or wait until he heard what the girl wanted.” On his way to the front room, the phone rang again and he retraced his steps.
This time the caller was Sophie. “How are things?” she asked.
“Surprisingly busy, but worrying.”
“In what way?”
“It’s difficult to speak now, Sophie,” he said. “We have visitors, can you call back later?”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I only wanted to know if it’s OK to call round tomorrow. Even his highness will shift himself for that. In fact, if Maria feels up to it, we could meet you in the Old Oak. It might do her good to get out.”
“I’ll check and let you know.”
After the goodbyes, he headed for the front room in time to see the meeting breaking up with mutual good wishes. Standing to one side, he watched Maria carefully as she thanked her visitors for coming. The strain was telling; her eyes had lost their sparkle and her words were dutiful rather than sincere. She was acting on autopilot. A pity he couldn’t give her good news about his psychic abilities, but nothing had changed. The two men still had no discernible aura – not to him anyway. Keith looked like the concerned leader of the congregation he was, and John, although no oil-painting, radiated only sympathy.
“Did you sense anything?” she asked, more in hope than expectation.
When he shook his head, she looked unsurprised, but her sigh was heartfelt. “Where did you disappear to?” she asked.
“To the bedroom,” he said. “To take a phone call.”
“Who from?”
He hesitated. “Sophie and Scott,” he said. “They want to come around tomorrow evening, or if you’re up to it, we can meet in the Old Oak.”
Fair enough, he thought. “Did I miss anything?” he asked.
She frowned. “They asked about the funeral date, but what could I tell them?”
“Wait and see?”
A tear appeared in the corner of her eye. “They asked about the reading of the will.”
“Who asked that?” He wasn’t renowned for tact himself, but that seemed insensitive. When she leaned closer, he put his arms around her instinctively.
“John,” she whispered. “He seemed to think the Church is due a bequest from Debbie’s will.”
“Is he right?”
“I doubt it. As far as I know, I’m the only recipient.”
“Do the Church need a bequest?”
“I expect so,” she said. “They’re always short of money, and John went on to say they’re in a precarious position. Too many outgoings.” She grimaced. “John has a one-track mind about money.” She looked fixedly at him. “No flickers of evil-doing from him”
“Not really.”
She nodded and yawned. “I feel like collapsing, Gary. I know it’s early, but do you mind if have an early night?”
“Why would I?” he said, and not before time, he thought. As a bonus, it made his decision about sneaking out to see Gail easier.
As soon as he heard a few minutes of silence from the bedroom, he walked slowly to the front door and opened it quietly. Reaching the exit door, he relaxed and hurried on, passing under the pedestrian arc towards the dock road.
The blue car was parked exactly where Gail said, but he approached warily until he saw she was alone. In the street lights, the white blouse she wore was almost transparent and the bra beneath seemed to be missing most of its material. Still, he doubted she’d dressed provocatively on purpose. “What’s this about?” he asked through the open car window.
“Get in.” A firm order, and he obeyed, squeezing into the passenger seat before turning to face her.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said.
“That’s no problem,” she said. “I don’t live far away. It’s one of the reasons Deborah moved to these apartments.”
“Oh?”
“Is that a surprise?” she asked.
It was. “Where did she live before?”
“In Southport, with her sister, but it became stifling. Maria was always in denial about Deborah’s sexuality, even when she was shacking up with Caitlyn.”
“Caitlyn?”
“Caitlyn Jones, a New Zealander. When I came on the scene, Caitlyn became history.”
That explained one disappearance, he decided, but added another layer of complexity. “Only metaphorically. I hope?” She peered at him in confusion. “Where did she go?” he asked.
“Who cares?” Clearly, she didn’t. The humidity remained oppressive and he wished he hadn’t automatically thrown on a jacket, but stripping off now might send mixed signals, even if he wasn’t sure what. Her information was enlightening so far. The sisters couldn’t be short of money if Debbie could buy her flat outright to be near her girlfriend. There was no mention of any of this in Debbie’s diary, but he wasn’t surprised to find the entries selective. But discovering Caitlyn and Debbie as an item came as a surprise. “You mentioned the neighbour,” he said. “Where does William come in?”
“He seemed to show an unusual interest in Deborah, but it wasn’t sexual. His boyfriend, by comparison, couldn’t take his eyes off her.”
“Sexual attraction?”
“I assume so, Deborah was a very beautiful woman.”
He nodded. “How did Debbie take this?”
“She was pleased,” she said. “Flattered by the attention, because he drooled over her like a love-sick schoolboy and Deborah lapped it up.” She shuffled in her seat and looked away. “A different notch on her tally stick, you see, pulling a gay boy. Not that she’d ever go further, not physically anyway, but she didn’t need to. He was a poor, gullible fool, and easily led.” She paused. “A little like you in many ways.”
“How?”
Although she gave a light laugh, he heard no amusement. “Do you really think Maria didn’t know her own sister’s sexual likes and dislikes? She saw, but she refused to see, looking the other way. What did she see that irked her so much? I’ll tell you, it was her own sexuality looking back at her, that’s what.”
She smiled at his sudden intake of breath. “I can tell a closet lesbian when I see one, Gary, no matter how much she’ll deny it. Why do you think she chose you, Gary?”
When she waited for an answer, he decided to oblige her. “My stunning sexual attraction?”
She gave a noisy snort. “Get real,” she said. “Deborah told me about your first meeting with Maria. She chose a convenient stooge. Look at yourself in the mirror. You’re not particularly good-looking, even if she were straight, but you are suggestible and easy to string along. The perfect foil to fool herself and others.”
She waited again for a reaction, but this time, he said nothing. “Sorry,” she continued, “But it’s true. That’s what annoys me most - her hypocrisy … and worse.”
“Worse?”
She glanced away. “Who knows? I doubt it’s worthwhile telling you, but they argued all the time.”
“What about?”
“Deborah’s sexual partners, but most of all, money.”
“Sexual partners?” he asked. “Plural?”
“I can only speak from my own knowledge. Caitlyn for sure.”
“And money?”
“Yes.”
“But Maria has money of her own.”
She shook her head and a tight smile appeared. “It’s never enough, is it?” she said. “Not for some people. Miss High and Mighty looking down on us because we don’t have as much.”
“Hmm …” He tried not to show his doubts, he didn’t recognise this Maria at all.
“Don’t let Maria fool you,” she said. “She hated Deborah. In her world, money is everything.” She smiled fully now. “Money represented the Alpha and the Omega. Deborah was different, she was careless with money, so careless it made Maria angry. She didn’t understand her own sister at all.” Her voice broke a little. “And that beautiful girl has been taken away from us. I don’t care what the police say.”
“What did they say?”
She picked up a handbag and fiddled with it for a moment. “They didn’t come out and say it, but they’re sure she died of a drug overdose. A self-administered overdose with no one else involved.”
“You think differently?”
“I do,” she said “I don’t rule out Maria having a hand in it.”
“Maria?” He tried to keep the doubt out of his voice, but he probably failed. “Has she access to drugs?”
She gave him a pitying look. “There’s plenty around if you know where to look, and with Deborah’s next-door neighbours on hand, it wouldn’t be difficult. William, for sure, and that creepy boyfriend of his coming in his pants whenever Deborah appeared. Ugh!” She shivered, an impressive feat in the oppressive heat.
“Did you see much of them?”
She nodded. “Now and then. It started with a drink together when Deborah first moved here. In a pub near the docks.”
“The Old Oak?”
“Where?”
“It’s a pub not far from here,” he said.
She shrugged. “I think I know it, but it’s not one of our regular boozers.” She sighed. “William, I could stomach, but that Steve, or Sean, or whatever he was called, no way. if Maria knew about William’s parties, she’d seize on that to focus suspicion away from her.”
He decided not to tell her she was wrong there. Her only suspicions so far pointed at the girl beside him. “Why would she need to avert suspicion?” he asked
“She’s paranoid, didn’t you know that?”
He shook his head. “Did you tell the police all this?”
“About the par
ties?” she asked. “There’s no point, I can’t see any of the participants giving an honest account, even if you only asked those who could remember. About Maria and Deborah’s arguments?” She shrugged. “I tried to hint but …”
“But what?”
“They didn’t want to know.”
He could understand their reticence. When Gail buckled up her seatbelt, he realised she’d finished her account for now. “What do you expect me to do?” he asked.
“Keep an open mind,” she said. “You’ll hear a lot of shite, but remember that bitch, Maria, isn’t what she seems.”
He nodded and climbed from the car. Keeping an open mind was difficult where personal feelings were involved. Although he had affection and sympathy for Maria, he was troubled by the revelations. Gail’s opinions might be dodgy, but some of the facts, if true, made a sort of sense.
Yet he didn’t like or trust Gail. It might be because of her delight in insulting him. Let’s face it, he thought, she’d ruffled his feathers effectively.
To his surprise, Maria was awake when he opened the door to the flat. Not only awake but angry.
“Where have you been?” she cried. “Seeing your other girlfriend, I suppose?” Her voice broke a little and she couldn’t hold back the tears. “How could you do that, Gary?”
“Do what?” he asked. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t lie,” she said. “You left your mobile phone in the bedroom. When I heard you go out, I checked it. You’ve been talking to Gail.”
He sighed and sat down. “Yes, I was,” he said. “Only because she claimed to have important information about your sister’s death. I assume you suspected her.”
“I did,” she said. “That scheming minx wants to turn you against me.”