by Colin Davy
“I considered calling the police,” she continued. “To report their intentions. But what could I tell them? My sister and her friend possess dangerous drugs and intend to take them sometime in the future? An anonymous call like that would electrify them into action, wouldn’t it?” After a mirthless laugh she pulled him closer. “I could have gone in person to the police station, and maybe then, they’d believe me. I should never have gambled with Deb’s life.”
“But you wanted to gamble with Gail’s?
“Only as a warning,” she said. “I was wrong and I paid dearly for it.”
If Debbie was aware of the risk, why did she do it? To prove something to either Gail or Maria? Had Debbie dabbled once too often?
He felt Maria’s body tremble as she clung on to him, and he knew she’d been punished far more than she deserved. The fog had begun to lift for the first time and he could see further. Both Maria and Gail were involved in Debbie’s demise and both wanted him to investigate and to implicate the other, without being implicated themselves.
Although both were riddled with guilt, they thought the other was guiltier. It resembled nothing so much as a circular firing squad, even if Maria had finally preferred a peace pact. A new paradigm for budding detectives … always go for the cynical view, it’s usually correct.
He saw why Maria would suspect Gail must have been present. She assumed Gail had stayed with Debbie that fateful evening, but why did Gail suspect Maria? Did she suspect Maria had given Debbie the lollipop? That could fit.
If each had wanted to incriminate the other, why didn’t they do it directly? Fear of contacting the police when each had a guilty conscience? He was the convenient go-between, and if they believed Maria’s premonition that he’d solve the because of his spooky powers, they may as well direct him as far as they could. Perhaps he could sell them some magic beans too?
Maria definitely had no direct hand in her sister’s death, he decided. Although he wanted her to be innocent, it was supported by her action’s since Debbie’s death. Recalling her sleepwalking episode when there was much on her mind, she’d given no hint of guilt. Only profound sorrow. No, she was guilty of misjudgement only.
“Now,” she said. “I think you’ve had long and tiring day and you deserve a good night’s sleep.”
He did feel tired, the last two nights on the couch had been restless, but he deserved nothing. If he’d discovered anything, it was restricted to how far out his depth h was. When she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the bedroom, he didn’t realise what she intended. Not until she stopped by the bed and began undressing.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Guess.”
By now, she’d stripped completely, apart from her pants. These she took off slowly, watching for his reaction. “Well?” she asked with a coy smile.
Her pubic hair looked so exactly like the pubic hair in his weird dream, he gave a sharp intake of breath. Pubic hair might be an unusual look these days, but given her history, he should have guessed.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. “But you knew that already.”
“Did I?” Pulling up the sheet, she jumped into bed and pulled the sheet up to her breasts. “Well?” she repeated.
He lost no time undressing, urgency making him scramble beside her to move the sheet away. Pulling him close, she kissed him on the lips before moving down to his chest. It was if a dam had burst and he let the moment take him, clutching at her breasts and rubbing his fingers over and down her body. After she moved around to accommodate him, he thrust deeply and she guided him in, smiling at his eagerness. Her body, her smell, and her touch made it impossible to stop and he came immediately, sagging onto her. He felt a brief moment of embarrassment, but not shame, too carried away by pleasure to worry. Only afterwards, when they separated did he consider his actions.
Ten out of ten for enthusiasm, he decided, but only one out of ten for performance. And even the one for performance was for finishing after, rather than before, penetration. But it had had been a close-run thing. “Sorry,” he said.
He wondered if she’d taken precautions. He certainly hadn’t, being so carried away, he’d sailed past Edgehill and immediately unloaded at Lime Street. Just like a frustrated teenager in a wet dream, he thought, but for tonight, he didn’t care.
She smiled and brushed at his hair “Quick and direct,” she whispered. “At least I know you find me attractive. That will do for tonight.”
Now he felt doubly guilty. Could she really be so needy? He’d much rather she’d made a joke or even been mildly sarcastic. ‘All that fuss over a three second wonder,’ perhaps, delivered with a smile. He gave her a sympathetic kiss and hoped that was reassurance enough.
She needn’t worry, the quicksand had taken over completely and he no longer cared.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The strange dream reappeared while he slept, but things had changed. This time, the ‘dream-Maria’ gave a genuine smile, but instead of leading him to the sun-dappled surface, she took his hand and pulled him down to the colder and gloomier depths. He woke in darkness, finding his hand still held in hers as she slept soundly.
Where their bodies touched, the dampness of sweat gave her a slippery feel. No wonder the dream felt so vivid. A whirlpool of emotions filled his brain, but the tiredness remained and he went rapidly back to sleep. By the time he woke again, Maria had disappeared and the room was bright with morning sunshine. Hearing her moving around in the front room, he dressed hurriedly and went to join her.
She’d opened the two central windows to allow a breeze to circulate, but the room remained warm and sticky. After greeting him with a warm smile, she pointed to the coffee table. “I made toast and coffee,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”
“Well enough,” he said, sitting down. “What time is it?”
“Gone nine.” Her eyes sparkled with life and she’d dressed in jeans with an over-large but thin t-shirt pulled out and over them.
“You’ve forgotten your bra,” he said.
“So I have,” she said. “It’s only for slopping around the flat. I’m surprised you noticed, have you become prudish?”
He smiled. “You can test me by parading around naked if you want,” he said.
“Thanks, but no, thanks,” she said. “Although it’s warm enough today.”
It was, he decided, and he checked the sky for clouds, finding only a small fluffy one on the far horizon. Sweat oozed down his neck and the t-shirt already clung to him. Feeling her hand on his shoulder, he turned to see her smiling. “It’s a new day,” she whispered. “And a new beginning, don’t you feel it?”
“All I feel is hot and sweaty,” he said. “I’ll take a shower.”
She smiled again. “Shall I join you?”
The sharp rap at the door made him turn, and at her frown, he shook his head. “I seldom get unexpected visitors,” he said. “Even then, they usually ring the buzzer outside the building.”
She took the hint, hurrying into the bedroom – to finish dressing, he suspected.
Hoping it wasn’t Sophie, he hurried to the door and opened it, finding it wasn’t. But his visitor didn’t put his mind at rest. Scott marched in, trailing a cloud of alcohol fumes behind him. “You’re here,” he said brusquely.
“Full marks for observation, Scott,” he said. “What’s the problem?”
Scott turned on his heel to stare back at him. “What’s my problem?”
Full marks for his hearing too, Gary was tempted to say, but the look on his friend’s face stopped the flippant remark. He looked angry enough to self-combust.
“My problem is that bitch of yours,” he said. “You couldn’t wait to tell her, could you?”
“Hang on a minute, Scott,” he said. “Sit down and let me explain.”
Scott shook his head. “Fuck your explanations, Gaz, you’ve gone too far this time. When Sophie told me last night how close you two were, I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.
Blabbing to the only person who had cause to publicise it.”
The raised voice must have warned Maria because she showed no signs of reappearing. Very wise, he thought. Given enough time, he might possibly calm the man in front, but from the red face and the tight jaw, it he might take time.
“If any hint of my sexuality ever leaks out,” Scott said. “I’ll take Maria with me. I’ll confess all and tell the police about the argument I witnessed that Sunday evening.”
“What argument?”
“The one between Deborah and her sister, the bitch you’ve shacked up with.”
“That’s a lie,” he said. “Maria wasn’t there that night.”
“No,” Scott asked with a smile. “Then who did I see there? Her red hair is easy to identify.”
“Not to someone who’s never seen her before.”
Scott stopped for a moment and looked confused. “The description will be enough,” he said. “Enough for the police to nose around some more.”
“And do what? After your vague description of a girl you claimed to see. It’s just as likely to initiate a closer look at your partying friends.”
“Why would I care about that?” he said. “I never did drugs, that was William’s speciality.”
It had the ring of truth, Gary decided. “Maria won’t say anything about you.”
Scott frowned in disbelief. “You expect me to believe you?” he asked. “She was there on that evening - don’t you understand me?
“Understand what?”
“She was the other person in the flat, I saw her.”
“Even though you’ve never seen her before, and wouldn’t recognise her in the street?”
He stopped in his tracks for a second. “How many red-haired female friends did Deborah have?” he asked. “It can only be her, you cretin.”
Gary ignored the insult, Scott was getting more and more worked-up, not less, and he suspected the whisky he’d drunk wasn’t helping. “Why would she want to tell on you when it would only draw attention to her whereabouts.”
When he frowned again, Gary saw the chance to reinforce his point. “It would be in her interests to keep quiet, Scott. And was the girl’s hair ginger or strawberry-blonde?”
Scott’s frown never wavered. “Who the fuck cares?”
“I do.” The firm voice came from Maria, who finally appeared from the bedroom. She wore the same clothing as before with the addition of a bra, and she walked over with no sign of nervousness. “Hello, Scott,” she said softly. “We meet at last.”
He frowned in response and stepped back in response. “For the second time, Maria” he said. “I’ve seen you before, remember. Would you like the police to check your alibi?”
“I haven’t one,” she said quickly. “There’s nothing to check, Scott. I was at home alone in Southport, so childish accusations by a lying pervert won’t worry me.”
He looked stunned, and Gary sighed inwardly. She must be intentionally provoking him, he decided; either she was confident he was bluffing, or she was bluffing, or she looked forward to the police investigating his accusations and finding evidence to implicate Gail. Whatever her intentions, it was a high-risk game with Scott angry, drunk, and in no mood to see reason.
Scott eyes widened and his posture changed to full-on anger. “You were there,” he said. “I saw you there, you lying cow.”
She took the insult in her stride. “You couldn’t have done,” she said, and now her eyes blazed with a sudden anger of her own. “Because I wasn’t there. Your game of bluff is over, but if you repeat your silly accusations to anyone, Sophie will get a blow-by-blow account of where you put your slimy cock.”
Gary gave up, she was determined to rile Scott for some reason and cause as much trouble as possible.
“You’d like that,” Scott said. “Wouldn’t you? Break me and Sophie up just to suit your agenda. I knew you couldn’t be trusted.”
“Scott,” Gary shouted. “This is between you and me. It’s nothing to do with her.
“Is it just between us, Gaz?” he asked. “Not any more, I should have known better than to trust you, you lying bastard.” He was almost spitting now, and when he lurched nearer, Gary pushed him instinctively away. Scott fell awkwardly against the settee, and his face contorted in a grimace.
It was a mistake to react, Gary realised. Scott’s face set in a look of determination, and when he flung himself forward, his fist swung in a punch that would have done Gary serious damage if it had landed. Ducking the blow, Gary slipped backwards on the carpet and fell against the glass of the French windows.
A bellow of anger came rang out from Scott and Gary clutched the ironwork guard-rail to pull himself up. Just in time to meet Scott’s enraged charge. Grabbing Gary in a bear-hug, Scott tried to pull him sideways towards the window opening. Gary resisted, straining to move away from the glass while Scott snorted like an out-of-control animal. The smell of blood, alcohol, and stale sweat wafting from him was overwhelming but Gary sensed his friend was tiring rapidly.
With little to choose between them in strength, Scott’s weight had given him an initial edge but that was waning. When his snorts became more and more desperate gasps for air, Gary took advantage, slowing his progress and turning the man around. Finding himself pushed close to the window opening, Scott gave a loud grunt, trying to push Gary away to punch him more effectively. His wild swing missed, but he made a grab for Gary’s face.
Although his nails scratched Gary’s cheek, Scott lurched sideways when Maria’s desperate body check shoved him against the guard-rail. While he remained off-balance, Maria’s second push carried him up and partially over. With a desperate cry, he grabbed for Gary’s arm, but his hand fell short and he disappeared from sight.
His scream was cut short as the loud crack announced his landing on the concrete dock outside.
Maria looked at Gary in shocked incomprehension. “What … what happened?” she asked before venturing cautiously forward.
Peering over the guard-rail, Gary saw Scott’s crumpled body lying face-down on the concrete surface with his neck at a strange angle. As they watched, dark blood began to puddle around his head. “Fuck!” Gary called. “You’ve killed him.”
She sagged to her knees, clutching the rail in both hands and staring at the body below.
The next few moments were a whirl of disbelief, coupled with a desperate rush to summon help. Faces appeared and disappeared and when the adrenaline faded, a sudden realisation took hold. They’d killed Scott in a terrible accident. Maria cried softly beside him, as the bustle around them eased to be replaced by a young policeman with a notebook and pen.
“What happened?” This time the question came from the firm and unsympathetic police constable who sat opposite.
“It was a terrible accident,” Gary said. “Scott had been drinking earlier and he perched on the guard-rail for some reason. Overconfidence? I don’t know, but he must have had a dizzy spell.”
The policeman’s thin lips tightened but he said nothing, waiting for Gary to continue.
“He was agitated and restless,” Gary said. “Has anyone told Sophie?”
The man opposite stirred. “Is that his wife?”
Gary nodded.
“She’s been informed,” he said. “She’s on her way to the hospital.”
“The hospital?” His hopes rose briefly, but the policeman quickly shook his head. “Mr Sinclair has been pronounced dead, I’m afraid,” he said. “If you feel up to it, could you start at the beginning and take me through what happened here this morning? Perhaps you could start by talking about the marks on your face.”
Before saying anything, Gary glanced over to Maria for guidance, but she only stared back at him, still traumatised by the earlier events. Right, he thought, there was no need to complicate matters. Scott had died in an accident, and there was no point trying to hide his background any longer.
Honesty was fine – but only up to a point. “Scott had a secret,” he s
aid. “Something he felt he needed to keep from his wife, but something he wanted to discuss with me. He was very upset when he arrived, I think he might have been drinking heavily.”
The policeman frowned and leaned forward. “I think you’d better explain slowly,” he said.
Epilogue
“When exactly did Scott tell you about his … his dalliances?” Sophie asked hesitantly.
Gary sighed and put down his teacup; he’d been dreading this question but he and Maria had decided between them to be honest … or at least, as honest as they could be about the circumstances behind Scott’s death. “We discovered it by accident,” he said. “Only a day or so before his death. He felt very guilty and wanted to protect you, but most of all, he wanted to put it behind him.”
She sighed. “Why didn’t he tell me?” she asked. “I would have forgiven him.” She stared at her neglected cup on the small table in front of her. “Why didn’t I ever ask him what was wrong? I’m sure he would have told me if I had done.” Shaking her head, she looked up at him. “I’d have been shattered, but we could have coped, I’m sure we would have done. Why, Gaz?”
“I think he was unsure,” Gary said. “He wanted to avoid you finding out, with you being pregnant. Perhaps he wanted to wait until you gave birth before admitting it? He was thinking of you.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Gaz,” she said. “If he’d been thinking of me, he wouldn’t have got involved with anyone, let alone another man. I suspected something was wrong a week or two ago. I assumed at first it was a problem at school because he began drinking early in the day. Although he tried to hide it, I found an empty whisky bottle in the recycling bin. And he’d become short-tempered with me. So unlike him, he’d always been so even-tempered.” She gave a loud sigh. “After that, I thought it might be the stress of the baby coming with all the new responsibilities. Another mouth to feed and only one bedroom.”