Old Age Private Oh My!

by A. W. Blakely

  Roobarb waddled beside Stanley as they walked along the narrow pavements of Banrook, the village they had all lived in their whole lives and would never dream of leaving, even if Stanley did enjoy moaning about the onslaught of out-of-towners and the fact the place was half-deserted on weekdays as more and more houses and cottages became weekend retreats.

  It was progress, his wife and daughter told him repeatedly, but it didn't make it right as far as he was concerned. Maybe he was just old and out of touch, but right now he didn't care.

  He had Roobarb walking like a good boy on the lead, he had his wife and his daughter, and they had a case. A double murder!

  "Come on then, what did the email say? What's the case all about and did they pay well?" asked Stanley.

  "Dad!"

  "Fine," said Stanley, adjusting his herringbone cap and resisting the urge to get out his pipe. "What is this terrible crime we have been tasked with solving, oh, wonderful secretary to the greatest detective in the world."

  "Stanley, stop being so rude and cheeky," said Babs. "But tell him, Kate, before he makes our walk intolerable."

  "I'll have to go over the details thoroughly when we get back, as the email was rather vague. Just a note really. But they filled in the form I set up once people book you, Dad, and that came through too. I'll check it all out properly once we get home."

  "But?"

  "But, what?"

  "What's the job? What happened?"

  "The email said that a woman has retained us and she introduced herself. Said her father and brother were murdered and she wants our help finding out who did it."

  "Oh. Wow! That's terrible." Stanley felt guilty for getting excited. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like to lose family like that. He knew he would be lost without the women in his life. He'd be in the grave if he was left alone, of that he was sure. He counted his blessings every single morning he awoke to the smell of tea brewing and Babs singing out of tune in the kitchen.

  "Yes, it is," said Kate, giving him the female Bloom "look" he got more often than he would like. The women in his family were formidable—you didn't want to get one of their looks if you could possibly help it. Stanley got them all the time, but still knew to behave before it escalated to the "frown of death."

  "That was it really," Kate continued. "I'll have to read the form and get all the details, but it's just in Mackle so not far at all."

  "That's handy then. It'll be nice to not have a commute while we solve a double murder."

  "Are you smiling? You are!" Kate prepared her "look," Stanley changed the subject.

  "Nice day, isn't it? We'll have our walk, burn a few calories, then we can get to work, Kate, begin our investigations."

  "Your detectiving will have to wait," said Babs. Stanley winked at Kate and they both smiled. Babs continued to say detectiving and they'd given up trying to correct her. Stanley thought it was rather endearing anyway, but he and Kate still found it highly amusing. Babs carried on, oblivious. "You've forgotten, haven't you, Stanley?"

  "Forgotten what?" Stanley had a sudden panic attack. Was it her birthday? No. What about an anniversary? No, not that either. Babs had a whole host of dates on instant recall but he never managed to remember most of them. It got him into trouble now and then, but as long as he remembered the main ones he was usually all right. Usually.

  "My sister, she's coming to stay. You did, you forgot!"

  "Um, no, I didn't. It just slipped my mind, that's all."

  "You liar. What did you think I was doing all this morning while you were eating breakfast? Why did you think I was in the spare room?"

  "Um, tidying up?" It sounded lame, even to Stanley.

  "I was getting the room ready. Pam will sleep in there, and Spider will sleep in Kate's old room."

  "Oh, jeez."

  "You be nice, Stanley. We only see them a few times a year, and it's better they come to us than we go to them."

  "You got that right. But you know what's nice? Hotels."

  "Stanley!"

  "What? Remember Christmas when we went to stay and we had nut roast for Christmas lunch. Nut roast! There wasn't even any bloody gravy. Who has Christmas without gravy? Madness." Stanley shuddered at the memory. It was, hands down, the worst meal he had eaten in his entire life. And to top it all there wasn't even any beer. Babs' sister was, as far as Stanley was concerned, a total and utter nut-job.

  "Yeah, come on, Mum, you have to admit that Auntie Pam is a little out there. I'm cool with her being a vegetarian and all, but who has Christmas dinner with no gravy? And there wasn't any wine." Kate winked at Stanley.

  They both dreaded visits from, or visiting, Pam, and it wasn't just the food or lack of alcohol. She was one of those people that always told you what you should be thinking, and the Blooms were not people that took kindly to such instruction. That wasn't the half of it though.

  "So, he's coming?" Stanley couldn't bring himself to say the word. He shook, like Roobarb after a dip in the local duck pond.

  "You mean Spider? Of course! Pam isn't going to leave him alone, now is she?"

  "Why not? He's fourteen, he can look after himself. When I was his age I was—"

  "Don't tell me," interrupted Kate, getting into the swing of things. "You were walking sixty miles a day in your bare feet to go work down the mines and all you got was a piece of coal at the end of the day."

  "Why you... Cheeky sod! No, what I was going to say was that I was responsible enough, and adult enough, to be left on my own for a few days." Stanley suddenly panicked. "Oh my god, it is only a few days, right? Please, tell me it's just a quick visit?"

  Babs halted on the narrow pavement, ignoring Roobarb as he whined and hopped from one leg to the other, itching for his walk in the park and the endless trees he was desperate to mark as his own. "Stanley Bloom, you be nice. She's been having a few problems with the rent and they have to move house. It won't be ready for a week so—"

  "A week! Bloody hell, somebody shoot me now. Quick, Kate, get a gun and point it at your poor dad's head. Do it, my life's over now, anyway. Oh, here comes a bus. Just a little shove and it will all be over. Push me, push me now."

  "Stanley!"

  "Fine. Aha," Stanley brightened. "We've got a case, so I guess we won't be about much anyway. Right, Kate?"

  "Yeah, probably have to work really late and get up early and do a lot of investigating in town." Kate caught Stanley nodding vigorously. "Or at my house as the computer is better."

  "I thought the one in the shed, um, the office, was new?" asked Babs suspiciously.

  "Well, er, it is, but you know, um, it hasn't got all the programs we need on it." Stanley smiled at Kate and she tried to look like she meant it.

  "Hmm. Anyway, they'll be here soon so let's walk Roobarb then you can help me get ready, Kate." Babs took off at a good pace. Roobarb pulled at the lead so Stanley and Kate walked fast to catch up.

  "Thanks," whispered Stanley.

  "No problem. Wonder what drama there will be this time?"

  "Ugh, I don't even want to think about it."

  Pam was much younger than Babs, early fifties, closer to Kate's age than Stanley's wife's, but that was where the similarities ended. Whereas his wife and daughter were sensible, careful with money and had intelligence, Pam seemed to have missed the clever branch as she fell out of the tree, landing instead on the dippy branch. As far as Stanley could tell, she had decided to remain there, permanently.

  That was fine, but her on/off relationship with vegetarianism was infuriating, as you never knew if you would get a nut roast or a burned bit of pork, not that either tasted good. She also enjoyed telling you what to think, and that rubbed Stanley and Kate up the wrong way.

  Even that wasn't the worst. It was Spider, whose real name was George, but would only ever answer to a name he had seemingly decided to call himself as he thought it was cool. That was the real problem.

  He had this air about him, like all the grumpiness and
moping about that teenagers did was condensed into one personification of all it was to be a hormonal fourteen-year-old that wanted to share his moods with anyone and everyone.

  Plus he had really smelly feet.

  Stanley put it out of his mind. They had a case, and boy was he glad they did. He decided to be extra vigilant and studious in finding out who was responsible, not that he would ever do anything less. But, for once, he was looking forward to spending a little less time with his wife. Plus, it gave him and Kate the excuse to spend even more time together than usual. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise after all.

  "Spider," muttered Stanley.

  "What was that, love?" asked Babs.

  "Nothing, just thinking about the case." Stanley hurried to catch up. He'd lagged behind and Roobarb looked like he was about to explode. "Nearly there, boy. Make the most if it, there won't be much peace after this. Pam will probably tell you not to pee on trees as they have feelings too. Ugh."

  Woof!

  "I know, but tell that to Mad Auntie Pam."

  The Nitty Gritty

  Stanley and Kate rushed up the garden and into the shed-cum-office as soon as they returned from their walk. Babs sighed and left them to it, going inside to get everything ready for her sister's stay.

  Kate plonked herself in the chair and brought up the email, eyes shining. Stanley tried to look over her shoulder but she gave him a "look" and he backed off.

  "Come on, have you opened the attachment yet?"

  "Give me a chance. It's not magic, you know."

  "May as well be for all the sense it makes." Stanley didn't trust any of it. All the technology, all the virtual stuff whizzing about, it made him uneasy. Whenever he used his new phone—which involved looking at it blankly—or sat down and tried to get to grips with the Internet, all he could picture were loads of dangerous invisible rays in the air, passing through his brain at the speed of light and doing who knew what kind of damage.

  If he knew Kate wouldn't make fun of him, then he'd wear his old motorcycle helmet with some tinfoil underneath. But he'd never hear the end of it, so he let the modern age wreck what few brain cells he had left to keep his daughter from pointing at him and laughing.

  "Come on, hurry up. Pam and, ugh, Spider, will be here soon. We'll get nothing done for the rest of the day, so we need to follow this up straight away."

  "Hold your horses." Kate bit her lip as she clicked her mouse with a flourish. The printer whirred, then began beeping as red lights flashed. "Stupid thing, I hate printers. You try to do one thing and it never works, then the next time you want to print something it gives you all the stuff you wanted before."

  "Never mind all that," said Stanley impatiently. "Come on, I want to know what we have."

  "Okay, give me a minute." Kate fiddled with the paper in the printer, then yanked it out. She tapped it square then put it back in. After pressing a few buttons, the printer sprang to life.

  Stanley grabbed the end of the paper but got a slap on the wrists. "Don't you dare! If you pull it too hard it will jam again. Just wait." Kate pushed him back and a few seconds later she picked up the printout. Stanley peered over her shoulder and read the document.

  ***

  "Well, that's a pretty serious business, and no mistake," said Stanley.

  "You're telling me." Kate put the paper down and turned to her father. "Think we are up to this? It's a proper, and I mean proper, murder."

  Stanley puffed out his chest, adjusted his cap, and wished he had his pipe going. "Of course. We're the best. Well, maybe not the best, but we can do it. With my looks and your brains we're invincible."

  "Haha, very funny. Seriously, Dad, this is intense stuff. Her father and brother have been killed, and not in a nice way by the sounds of it. The police have found nothing, and it was two months ago. The trail will be getting cold, if it isn't already."

  "Yes, but you are forgetting one thing." said Stanley enigmatically.

  Kate sighed. "Okay, I'll bite. What am I forgetting?"

  "That we are on the case. Nobody will suspect us of being such ace private investigators. We're OAPI, Old Age Pensioner Investigations, and we owe it to this lady to solve such a terrible crime. Imagine how she feels? We simply have to help."

  "Okay, Dad. If you're sure?"

  "Yep, I am. And besides, we need the money." Stanley walked out to smoke his pipe. He paused dead in his tracks, then fumbled quickly for his smoking paraphernalia. "Uh-oh." Stanley lit up and puffed like a chimney, lost behind a cloud of smoke. He knew he didn't have long before his day was over. "Um, Kate, have you replied yet, saying we accept?"

  "Not yet, just about to do it now. But she's paid so it's just a formality. Why?"

  "Because guess who's here? Should you call, set up a meeting? Like, for now?"

  "Sorry, can't. It'll have to be tomorrow. I've got an appointment."

  "What appointment? I never heard you mention an appointment."

  "Um, er, well, I forgot."

  Stanley knew the women in his life only too well. There was no appointment. "What, suddenly remembered about it once your mum reminded you about Mad Auntie Pam, and Spider, did you?"

  "As if!" Kate came out of the shed, smiling. She knew Stanley wouldn't be angry, just that he'd wished he thought of it himself. "No, no appointment. But if I say I have one then I can go home and do some research, arrange to see our client tomorrow, and we'll have something to go on when we get there."

  "Fair enough. Good idea. It doesn't mean you get out of this, though. Stay until after lunch. Please?"

  "As if I'd desert you in your hour of need."

  "Thanks, love." Stanley kissed Kate on the cheek. She was a good girl, the best.

  They stood at the top of the garden and watched along the side of the house as Pam and Spider got out of a taxi and Pam spoke to the driver. Stanley tapped out his pipe in the bucket of sand and sighed. "Some things never change. Guess I'll go and pay for the taxi."

  "Stay calm. Think nice thoughts," said Kate.

  "What, like about them leaving?"

  "Dad! They aren't even through the front door yet."

  "I know. Shame it can't stay that way."

  Stanley was joking, to some degree. For all her strange ways, Pam was actually a very funny woman, and was a good conversationalist as long as you didn't get onto the subjects of politics, religion, meat eating, alcohol, or the news. It didn't leave a lot, but they'd had some good times over the years, and some bad ones.

  You just never knew if she was still off the booze, was eating meat again, or just fish or chicken as for some reason that didn't count as meat in her mind sometimes, so it meant you had to tread on eggshells for days until you knew where you stood. Even then, he always seemed to get something wrong and had to bite his tongue.

  "Come on, you can say hello, too."

  "Coming," said Kate from the office. She turned off the computer and followed Stanley to the front garden.

  Pay the Man

  "Hello, Pam," said Stanley, trying not to wince as she air kissed his cheeks and made a weird "Muh, muh" noise he supposed was meant to sound like a kiss.

  "Stanley! How nice to see you." Pam stepped back. "Let me look at you. How is retirement keeping you? Do you like it? I understand you've been playing detective. Have you put on weight? Getting a little porky around the belly, Stanley." Pam wiggled his midriff. Stanley batted at her ineffectively.

  "To answer your questions, Pam, I may have put on a pound or two and—"

  "Later, please. Can you pay the man? I'm right out of cash at the moment." Pam indicated the annoyed driver. He'd obviously had enough of Pam's rather one-sided conversations and was in no mood to hang around.

  "Why doesn't that surprise me?" muttered Stanley as he walked past and said, "Spider," to the morose teenager standing still with his head bowed and his hair hanging over his eyes.

  "Stanley."

  Why won't he call me Uncle? Kids!

  "How much?" Stanley held his b
reath, fearing the worst.

  "Thirty quid," said the grumpy taxi driver.

  "How much!? Bloody hell, Pam, did you get a taxi the whole way?"

  "Now, Stanley, don't be silly. But you know what those coaches are like. We had to get a taxi. It was just too noisy so we got off."

  "Yeah, wonder who was making all the noise?"

  "What was that?"

  "Nothing. Aren't you worried about, you know, burning all the fossil fuels and stuff?" Pam ignored him and walked up the path, leaving her bags for Stanley. "Bloody woman and her selective hearing."

  "Try spending an hour driving her around," moaned the driver.

  Stanley fished out three ten-pound notes from his wallet and gave them to the driver. "Try spending a week living with her. Here. Keep the change."

  "Hey! There isn't any. It's thirty quid."

  "Well, that's all right then."

  Stanley turned as the car sped off. He picked up the bags, scowled at the back of Spider who was empty-handed, and went to have a miserable week.

  It better not be longer, it better not be longer.

  ***

  "So, Stanley," said Pam, leaning back in her chair in the dining room they hardly ever used, "how is your little hobby going?"

  "My what!" Stanley spluttered, tea spraying everywhere.

  "Stanley!" admonished Babs.

  "Sorry. For your information, Pam, it is not a 'hobby,' it is mine and Kate's business. We have an office, we have a computer, and I even have a new slide phone."

  "Ooh, sounds like you're keeping yourself busy."

  Stanley wondered what the penalty was for burying your sister-in-law in the back garden and considered whether it mattered. Surely he could plead extenuating circumstances? "It's a job, it's our work. And for your information, we have a case. Actually," Stanley brightened, "we should probably get started. Lots to do, people to see, a case to solve." Stanley pushed his chair back and hit a cupboard.