Rattling the Bones

by Ann Granger

  She was rising to her feet and I said hastily, ‘Before you go, can I have a number to contact you? I don’t know if there will be any need but perhaps it would be a good idea.’

  She sank down again and opened her expensive-looking handbag. ‘Yes, of course. You think of everything, Fran.’ (Ouch! Was that a dig at me?)

  Jessica produced a notebook, scribbled on a leaf torn from it and handed it to me. ‘Thank you for your time and hospitality, Simon, and you, Nikki,’ she said. ‘But I need to look into this so I’ll go now, if you don’t mind. Nice to meet you, Fran.’

  The pair of them hastened to escort her off the premises. I was left contemplating a half-drunk mug of coffee, representing the ‘hospitality’, which now stood abandoned on the floor by her chair, a thin scum forming on the cooling surface. From the other side of the closed door I could hear a confused murmur of voices, then the slam of the front door and returning footsteps. I quickly unfolded the slip of paper Jessica had given me. On it was written an outer London number and the name ‘J. Davis’. So she was Jessica Davis. As the door of the room reopened I pushed the piece of paper into my pocket to join Morgan’s card already nestling there. Nikki barged in closely followed by Simon. They looked over me in a joint attack.

  ‘What’s going on, Fran?’ Nikki demanded. ‘And what has it got to do with Edna?’

  ‘That’s what we all want to know,’ I pointed out.

  ‘How is it going to affect our work here at the hostel?’ asked Simon. ‘Our residents are sensitive people with great personal difficulties.’

  ‘To be perfectly honest with you,’ I told him, ‘I have no interest in your work here, only in Edna. Where is Edna?’

  Simon waved a hand irritably towards the window. ‘Anywhere, somewhere . . . she’ll be back later.’

  ‘I certainly hope so,’ I told him. ‘Duane died in unexplained circumstances. The police are looking into it. Someone has to keep an eye on Edna. She’s not safe from someone’s bad intentions, someone who could be violent.’

  ‘But no one would hurt her!’ protested Simon. ‘She’s harmless and her mind, well, she lives in a world of her own. She wouldn’t understand what anyone wanted of her and she certainly wouldn’t understand she was in any danger. If you’re right, that is?’ He raised his eyebrows and his expression begged me to say I was exaggerating.

  ‘I don’t know if I’m right!’ I snapped at him. ‘I just want all precautions taken. Can’t you try and keep her in the house for a couple of days?’

  ‘No.’ Nikki shook her cropped head. ‘It’s impossible. Rain or shine, out she goes first thing in the morning. She’s a tough old bird. The only way you’d keep her in would be if you sedated her.’

  ‘You can’t do that!’ I cried in horror.

  ‘No, no, of course we can’t!’ Simon assured me. ‘It would need a doctor to say it was necessary and she would have to be removed to a psychiatric unit - we’re trying to keep her out of one of those places! That is the purpose of this hostel. You must have realised that all of our residents, or most of them, come to us with mental problems. We’re not a clinic, of course. We’re not any kind of institution. Our purpose is to provide safety and support. We leave it to professionals to do the rest. Look, Nikki and I will do our best. But really, you know, though I’m sure you’re sincere, I just can’t believe she’s in any danger.’ He glanced at his wristwatch. ‘It’s five o’clock. We have our supper here at six thirty. Nikki and I prepare it so we have to get started in our kitchen soon. Sandra helps,’ he added, ‘under supervision, of course.’

  A kitchen can be a lethal place full of sharp implements offering loads of opportunities to anyone of a distressed state of mind. I hoped they kept a close eye on Sandra.

  ‘Edna will be back by suppertime,’ Nikki took up. ‘She might come back at any moment. Jessica was going to wait for her but, well, your news has well and truly put the cat among the pigeons.’

  ‘How long,’ I asked, meeting her gaze with a very direct stare of my own, ‘have you known that Ms Davis was seeking out Edna on behalf of this old fellow she’s pally with?’

  ‘We didn’t know anything about her until today,’ Nikki told me earnestly. ‘She arrived on our doorstep rather as you did. Simon and I consider ourselves good judges of character. We decided to trust you and we also decided to trust her. But we do expect our confidence in you both to be returned.’

  ‘I can’t speak for her,’ I said. ‘I’ve been absolutely straight with you both.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ muttered Simon, not looking too impressed by my assurance. ‘Look, do you want to wait here until Edna comes in? Just to satisfy yourself she’s all right.’

  I hesitated. I was tempted to take up the offer but supper was an hour and a half away and Edna might not return until a few minutes before it was served. That was an hour and a half in which I might be doing something useful.

  ‘I’ll leave it to you to get in touch with the cops, right, if Edna doesn’t turn up on time?’

  They both nodded furiously.

  Sandra had taken up her station on the front steps again. She gave no sign she recognised me as I edged past her and bid her goodbye.

  Chapter Ten

  There was no sign of Jessica Davis outside, which wasn’t surprising as she had had plenty of time to get clear of the hostel. Still, I was rather sorry as I’d hoped she might have lingered to see if I came out. It would have given her a chance of a private word with me. I would certainly have liked a further word with her without Simon and Nikki present, but perhaps the feeling wasn’t returned. She didn’t want me quizzing her.

  At least I’d like to have seen what kind of car she drove away in and even got its number. I guessed there had been a car. She hadn’t looked ruffled enough to have battled her way there by public transport with the rest of us. A taxi could have brought her but she wouldn’t have picked up one easily in this quiet residential street on leaving the hostel. I set off briskly just in case I might spot her walking ahead of me. There was always a chance.

  Looking for Jessica had made me careless of looking around for anyone else. I’d fallen into the same error when, intent on following Edna, I’d failed to spot Duane. Just to show I don’t learn by my mistakes, I jumped out of my skin when a shape moved out from behind a wall and a voice demanded hoarsely and urgently, ‘Has she gone?’

  I looked round and down. Edna had materialised from someone’s patch of front garden, holding the householder’s cat in her arms. The cat appeared to have no objection. It lounged there, flicking its tail just occasionally, its amber eyes fixed on me with a contemptuous look. ‘See?’ it seemed to be saying. ‘Fine detective you are! You wanted to find Edna and you were just about to walk right by her!’

  ‘That woman!’ repeated Edna crossly when I didn’t reply at once. ‘Has she gone? The dressed-up one with the earrings.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘She left before me. How long have you been hiding there, Edna?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ said Edna promptly, looking down at the cat. The cat looked up at her and I swear they exchanged glances of complicity.

  ‘But you saw her arrive? That means you saw me arrive too?’

  ‘Mm,’ she mumbled.

  ‘But you didn’t see her leave?’

  ‘I was here,’ Edna gestured with her woolly-hatted head towards the dank little garden behind her. ‘I kept well down.’

  ‘Did she arrive in a car?’

  ‘Blue one!’ said Edna triumphantly.

  I vaguely remembered seeing, as I’d arrived earlier, a blue car parked a little way down from the hostel facing the opposite direction from where I now stood with Edna. Jessica had probably driven off in it, continuing in that other direction and not passing Edna hiding behind her wall.

  Edna looked away from the cat but her gaze didn’t engage mine. ‘Mutton dressed as lamb, my dear,’ she muttered. ‘I don’t hold with it.’

  ‘Do you mean me, Edna?’

  Now she loo
ked at me severely. ‘Don’t be silly, dear. That woman. What did she want?’

  ‘Do you know her, Edna?’ I asked, determined to get something out of her. ‘Have you seen her before?’

  ‘I see people all day long,’ said Edna. ‘What did a woman like that want visiting the hostel? They don’t have people like her there. And people who are there don’t have people like her visiting them. She wasn’t from the social.’

  ‘Her name,’ I said, ‘is Jessica Davis. That mean anything to you, Edna?’

  ‘Jessica . . .’ murmured Edna dreamily, stroking the cat. ‘I like that name. It’s a pretty name. Yes, Jessica, I like that.’ Her manner changed abruptly. ‘No, I don’t know her! How should I? I can’t be doing with people, only cats.’

  ‘Edna,’ I said carefully because she was so easily frightened off, ‘I’d like to talk to you seriously. You know me. You know I’m your friend, don’t you?’

  Edna shuffled and looked sullen.

  ‘I don’t know what’s going on,’ I continued. ‘Do you?’

  She shook her head but it didn’t necessarily mean a negative reply. She was probably just trying to shake the sound of my voice away.

  ‘The man who was following you, the one who wore a white cap,’ I touched my head. ‘You were afraid of him.’

  Her eyes flickered up at me. I’d taken her full attention now.

  ‘You needn’t be afraid of him any longer,’ I said. ‘He won’t be following you any more.’

  Edna set the cat down on the pavement. It shook itself and leapt up nimbly on to the wall.

  ‘Where’s he gone?’ Edna asked.

  This was progress. She wasn’t denying Duane’s existence or that it had worried her.

  ‘He’s gone away,’ I said evasively. ‘He won’t be back.’

  ‘Is he dead?’ asked Edna in a conversational, casual way.

  ‘Well, yes, he is, Edna,’ I floundered.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, but it didn’t seem to mean anything much to her one way or another.

  I debated how much more I might tell her safely. If I told her Jessica had been at the hostel seeking Edna herself and acting on behalf of another party also seeking her, then there was a very good chance Edna wouldn’t return to the hostel that night or, indeed, ever again.

  I took a leaf from her book and simply dropped the subject. ‘Simon and Nikki are about to begin cooking the supper,’ I said.

  ‘Baked beans,’ said Edna gloomily. ‘Macaroni cheese is better. They don’t eat any meat; they’re vegetarians. I don’t mind that because I don’t like eating animals. I wished they cooked chips. But they keep telling me chips are unhealthy. She makes a pie with aubergines and tomatoes. That’s not bad.’

  This digression on the menu at the hostel had led to quite a lengthy speech. I decided to build it.

  ‘Come on, Edna, I’ll walk to the hostel with you.’

  We proceeded back down the pavement. The cat followed up along the top of his wall until it ran out, then settled down to watch us.

  ‘You are comfortable at the hostel, though, aren’t you, Edna?’

  Edna mumbled indistinctly.

  ‘Simon and Nikki do care about you. I care about you. What we all want is for you to take care of yourself.’

  ‘I’ve been doing that,’ said Edna starchily, ‘for forty years. Why should I suddenly be unable to take care of myself? I’m not potty. I know my way around.’ She stopped and looked up at me with a perfectly lucid gaze. ‘I’ll tell you something, dear. You remember it. You never have any trouble as long as you’re looking after yourself. It’s when other people start thinking it’s their business to take care of you that all the trouble starts. You mark my words.’

  ‘Edna,’ I said quite humbly, ‘I’m not trying to meddle, honestly.’

  ‘And the worst ones,’ retorted Edna fiercely, ‘are the ones who are doing it all out of the kindness of their hearts. If they want something to take care of, they should get a cat!’

  We reached the steps and found them untenanted. Edna climbed to the front door and rang. It was opened after a moment by someone I couldn’t see from where I stood. I thought it might be Sandra if she hadn’t yet been called to duty in the kitchen. Edna didn’t greet whoever it was, just plodded indoors without a backward glance to bid me farewell. The door shut. She was safe inside for the night.

  As for me, I’d been well and truly told off. But it didn’t mean I was going to stop looking out for Edna. One thing had been confirmed for me. She could be perfectly coherent if she wanted and, what was more, she was a bit of a battleaxe. All that dottiness was a shield! I fumed. It didn’t alter the fact that she was still vulnerable, whether she wanted to admit it or not, the cantankerous old bat.

  I set off back to my flat because I’d left Bonnie with Erwin that morning. He would probably be getting ready to go out soon if he was playing at a gig that evening.

  Erwin had company. I could hear laughter, Erwin’s infectious high-pitched whoop and female giggling which sounded a little familiar. I hesitated. I’d barged in on a private meeting at the hostel. It seemed I was about to do so again. I had no wish to be indiscreet and bust up a romantic twosome. Perhaps I ought to wait a little.

  But Bonnie had already heard me. She would have been listening for me the whole day. I heard her whimper on the other side of the door, then bark. Claws scrabbled at the wood.

  The door was pulled open. ‘Hi!’ beamed Erwin. ‘Come on in, girl!’

  I trotted inside to behold Susie Duke comfortably seated on Erwin’s sofa. She waved a mug at me with one hand and a funny-looking cigarette with the other.

  ‘Hullo, Fran, love! Where’ve you been?’

  ‘Out to Fulwell, Teddington way,’ I said, sounding to my own ears primly disapproving, not unlike my old headmistress. ‘I’ve been following up enquiries. I got held up on my return. Sorry to have left my dog for so long, Erwin, and thanks for taking care of her. I’ll take her back now.’

  ‘No, problem,’ said Erwin happily.

  ‘Hang on,’ cried Susie, lurching to her feet. ‘I came out here to find you. Don’t scarper now. Thanks for the coffee, Erwin, and the . . .’ She gave me a hunted look and surreptitiously ground out the spliff.

  ‘Any time,’ said Erwin, the perfect host.

  ‘How long have you been waiting?’ I asked when we got back to my room where the atmosphere seemed in contrast rather boring.

  ‘Not long, honest.’ She transferred herself to my sofa. ‘He’s a nice bloke, isn’t he? He was telling me about his band, how hard it is to get people to hire them. It’s nearly as difficult to make a living as a musician as it is being a private investigator, by the sound of things. How did you make out at Teddington?’

  I resisted the temptation to reply that I hadn’t made out as well as she had with Erwin. Instead I gave her a summary of my visit to Lottie. When I told her about Les, Susie became more serious.

  ‘Well, that tells us how Duane found out about you sometimes working for me. Thing is,’ Susie’s brow puckered, ‘how did Duane get into the office? You reckon Les did lend him the keys?’

  ‘If he did, then they would still have been on Duane when I found him,’ I replied, ‘unless the killer took them. I wish I’d had the nerve to search his pockets before the cops turned up.’

  ‘I don’t like that idea much,’ said Susie slowly. ‘I don’t want anyone, let alone a killer, running round London with my office keys. Well, I have to get the lock changed anyway. I won’t give Les the new keys, that’s for sure. I think it’s unlikely he lent them to Gardner but well, better safe than sorry, eh? He won’t be surprised if I don’t give him the new keys, not in the circumstances.’

  ‘Did you know he worked for other agencies?’ I asked her.

  She nodded. ‘Lots of people use him. I know you don’t like him much, Fran, but Les is good at what he does. I’ve never thought he was likely to talk out of turn, tell anyone else what I was doing. He never told me what anyone else
who used him was looking into. You’re cross because he didn’t speak up and tell you he recognised Gardner from the description you gave us. But I reckon he was right to keep quiet. He didn’t know what Gardner was doing but he wasn’t going to blow his cover by letting us know Gardner was a PI.’

  We decided by unspoken agreement to leave it at that. ‘Well,’ I said, ‘what’s brought you out to see me? Just asking how I’m getting on?’

  ‘It’s a bit more than that, Fran, love,’ she said, leaning forward. ‘Things are in an awful mess back at my office. Well, truth to tell, I can hardly say I’ve got an office at the moment! The police have sealed off the whole place and the staircase as well. No one can get in to consult me and no one can get upstairs to Michael’s tattoo parlour, come to that. He’s really upset and seems to think it’s all my fault.’