The whole house stank of mold, wallpaper was peeling off the walls, the plaster wet and bubbling beneath. It was freezing too, even though it was summertime. He actually felt sorry for Pam for the first time in his life. This was not her fault, this was her trying to do her best with what she had—which wasn't a lot. He'd get it sorted. The landlord, for whatever reason, had clearly wanted the tenants removed.
Why the extremes though? Ah, because the rent was partly paid by the council, that was why. It would give Pam and Spider extra protection against merely being thrown out, but surely the council would have come and inspected the place if Pam had complained to them? Stanley knew her well enough, meaning she probably hadn't even considered doing that, and just dealt with the landlord instead.
No matter. The place was uninhabitable now, whatever the council could manage to do. But the tampering with the boiler was serious business. They could have been killed.
What was the best plan of action? Go see the landlord? Talk to the neighbors? Turn it into a full OAPI case? Report it to the police? Stanley wasn't sure what was best. This was personal, family, and he didn't know what to do. Wait, that's what he should do. Wait until he spoke to Pam, and Babs. No way did he want to do anything without them approving. He could just picture it, getting the "look" from the women in his life because he did something stupid.
"I'll wait," he mumbled to himself as he made his way back downstairs. With no sign of Kate or Spider in the house yet he went back outside.
They were at the far end of the garden, bent over and talking to Roobarb. "Bet the daft dog's got an old bone, or, knowing him, it'll be a worm." Stanley went to find out.
"What you doing? I've been thinking. Let's go take a look where the bodies were found."
"Wow, really? Cool," said Spider, seemingly having cheered up.
Kate shook her head as if to say she didn't know why his mood had changed—probably just the thought of something grisly. Kate tugged at Roobarb's collar and said, "Come on, boy, we're off to the woods."
Roobarb was flagging, his digging slow, but he refused to stop. The hole was getting deep and the poor guy was finding it hard to get his short legs to work well. Most of the earth was slipping back into the hole as he scratched.
"Come on, Roobarb, you daft lump. We're going to the woods." Stanley stared at the dog, thinking that at least he'd be burning off a few calories. Roobarb looked up quickly but then began whining and painfully digging again.
"Dad, he'll have a heart attack if he doesn't stop. What's he doing?"
"Being a loon."
"He's onto something. Maybe it's a clue," said Spider, excitedly.
"A clue about what?" asked Kate. Spider shrugged. Kate bent and reached a hand into the hole to help Roobarb out, but paused. "Um, I'll ruin my nails."
"Fine," said Spider, bending and helping Roobarb. He grabbed hold of something and Roobarb went wild, jumping and barking, trying to reach what Spider held as he stood up. "It's a box," he said, nonplussed.
They gathered around the box that was actually a small, metal petty-cash tin. The kind Stanley remembered from years ago when businesses would keep a few pounds handy back before there were credit cards and such things as Online banking and everything was virtual and made no sense.
Spider shook it: there was definitely something inside. "No key." He shook it again. "What if it's money? Loads of money, or diamonds or something?" His eyes lit up as his imagination went wild.
"Don't be daft. Come on, time to go. But good boy, Roobarb. Who knew you had it in you. You're like a doggie metal detector." Stanley rubbed Roobarb's head and moved to leave.
"Dad, you aren't seriously telling me you don't want to open it?" said Kate, astonished. Kate was as nosy as Stanley and this was not normal behavior.
"What I know is that this place is unsafe, and that whatever is inside is not ours. I also know," he lectured, "that it will get us into trouble. Bring it, but don't say I didn't warn you."
Stanley walked off.
Kate, Spider, and Roobarb followed. Spider kept hold of the tin, then hid it under his t-shirt, looking around warily at the empty gardens.
They loaded the car with a few boxes and left.
Stanley had the feeling the day was about to go downhill, and fast.
To the Woods
Stanley would have much rather not taken a fourteen-year-old to the scene of a grisly double murder, but he'd promised not only his sister-in-law, but more importantly his wife, that he would keep the boy out of their way so they could catch up properly—he dared not go back on his word. It would be no more biscuits, definitely no more sugar, and he'd probably be on double broccoli rations too.
The joys of family.
Stanley smiled at the thought of Babs telling him off—he didn't mind, not really. For all his moaning, he liked having family around, just, you know, not for very long. Kate and Babs were one thing, and he would spend forever with them if he could, but Pam was quite another entirely. Spider, however, was showing himself to be much more mature than he'd ever let on. Chatty, too. In fact, it was hard to shut him up now. Maybe he was better when he was moping? No, that was much worse, it set Stanley's nerves jangling.
He zoned out of the constant guessing about what was in the tin, Kate and Spider both excited about what it could contain, in between talking about why the house had been turned into such a deathtrap. Stanley would get to the bottom of it, he was sure—it was probably just the landlord looking to sell it without a tenant.
The murders had to come first. So far they had done nothing, and he already felt guilty for taking the woman's money and not jumping straight onto the case. Kate had the details of where the bodies were found from scouring the Internet. It was a familiar place, on the outskirts of Mackle, popular with dog walkers and those wishing for some cleaner air. The bodies had been discovered close to the stolen van, which was a red flag as far as he was concerned.
Stanley may still be working blind, not really knowing exactly how you went about being a private detective, but one thing he knew was that you buried bodies well away from where they could be found. And you buried them deep, not next to a stolen van, that was for sure.
"Kate, were they actual coffins that the bodies were found in?"
"That's what it said in the article I read." Kate turned to Stanley as she careened around a bend, oblivious to the risk of oncoming traffic on the narrow lanes now they were on the edge of the woods.
"Never mind, we'll talk later." Stanley decided to remain silent until they were parked up. He should know better after all these years than to chat while Kate drove.
"Okay." Kate flipped down the visor and checked her makeup, then turned around to grab her bag to reapply her lipstick.
Knowing it would fall on deaf ears, Stanley prayed silently and closed his eyes. He bit his tongue, not wanting to nag, but thinking maybe he'd buy a car once they got paid in full for the job. If, and it was a big if, he solved the crime and survived the journey.
Spider settled down too, realizing he may not make it past his early teens with his cousin driving.
"There, that's it," said Kate minutes later, braking hard and skidding on mossy asphalt. The lane was shaded by dense beech and oak, a true ancient forest, a small oasis surrounded by the ever-increasing urban sprawl.
Stanley got out as fast as he could, Spider already pushing on the back of his seat to move it forward and escape, happy to be alive. Roobarb peered from under his paws, whined, then clambered out too.
"Well, at least we don't have to guess where they found the graves." They all peered through the trees at the police tape still strung around a large area, presumably left well after forensics teams had scoured the vicinity for evidence. "It doesn't seem right. If they, or whoever killed them, parked a stolen van here, then why bury them so close? Nobody's that stupid, surely?"
"Maybe the dead dudes nicked the van but came across something and scared the killers off?" said Spider.
"Nope
, because the killers put them in coffins, alive, nailed them shut, and buried them. Not exactly being scared off, is it?" Stanley removed his cap and scratched at his hair. Hair he tried not to look at for long in the mirror as the thinning locks depressed him too much.
"Okay, how about they did it themselves, like a magic trick gone wrong?" Stanley and Kate just stared at Spider. "Just an idea," he said, kicking the moss with a trainer.
"Or," said Stanley, the idea still percolating through his mind, "whoever killed them didn't see the van at all."
"Dad, it was right here, where I'm parked. No way could you miss it."
"Not unless you're blind, or it was dark."
"Okay, you've got me there. And this is why they call you the greatest detectivist," said Kate, smiling.
"Don't you start. It's bad enough your mother refusing to say anything to do with detective properly." They wandered off the lane and into the woods, feet sinking in soft loam at the edge of the lane before the ground became very firm, sheltered from the rain by the thick canopy, the trees greedily sucking up what moisture there was.
In just a few seconds they came to the tape, sectioning off a large area where the investigating teams had clearly focused their attentions. "Kate, they found nothing at all? No evidence?"
"Nope, nada. Weird, eh? You'd think there would be footprints, hammers, some kind of trail, but there was nothing. Just the van with the men's fingerprints on it, and the coffins. But no clues, not that I think they spent too much time looking into it. Denise was right, Dad, they were bad news. I bet the police just assumed they had got mixed up with proper gangsters and pushed their luck too far."
"Or... No, never mind."
"Come on, I'm the secretary, assistant, and sidekick, no holding back." Kate frowned at Stanley—he knew better than to keep anything from her, especially after he tried his big reveal on their first case and it backfired on him. The last thing he wanted was to upset his daughter.
"Well, anyone could have driven the van, after they were killed, and just worn gloves. Then it would look like the father and brother drove here themselves but they didn't. It would just mean they used the van at some point."
"And what would be the point?" asked Kate, staring at the large hole that had held the coffins, drawn to it like Stanley and Spider, dark thoughts of being buried alive souring their mood.
"Dunno. Red herring. Or just an oversight. Maybe they didn't know the guys. Damn, what are their names? Maybe they weren't supposed to have left fingerprints and the killers didn't know it had their fingerprints on it."
"Charlie and Robert," said Kate, checking her notebook.
"Huh?"
"Their names. Those were their names."
"Oh, right. Thanks. Well, what do you both think? We are a team, I guess, so what's your take on this?" Stanley tried to keep his face stern and suitably like a clever detective as he watched Spider go through more emotions and facial changes then he thought existed. The poor boy needed something in his life, and maybe this wasn't such a bad way to help him choose a career path.
Maybe when he went back to school after the summer holidays he could take an interest in his lessons and go to a proper school to become a detective. Did they have colleges and universities for that kind of thing?
"Wow! I'm part of the team? Cool. Thanks, Uncle Stan." Spider grabbed Stanley and hugged him before either of them knew what was happening.
"No problem. Just make sure you behave when we do out interviews," warned Stanley.
"Really, I can come?"
"It's a bit late now, isn't it? You've already questioned the client and come to the crime scene. May as well go the whole way now."
"Yes!" Spider wandered off, studying the ground and the large hole, clearly looking for clues.
"You daft old lump. You're a big softy really, aren't you?" said Kate, giving Stanley a kiss on the cheek.
"Anything to stop him moping about," Stanley said quietly, then busied himself with his pipe—he needed a smoke after the stress of the house and now the crime scene.
He kept picturing himself stood over the coffins as the lids were prised open and his wife and daughter were inside, fingers torn down to bone, faces a mask of terror. Who would do something like that to another human being? You'd have to have done something seriously bad to annoy someone that much.
"Big softy," called Kate, as Stanley walked the opposite way to Spider to look for clues too. He ignored her.
Time to Go
After half an hour of wandering about in the cold and damp, even though Stanley could see the sun was shining again when he caught a glimpse of sky through the trees, the conclusion they all reached was that they had nothing. They were, when all was said and done, just wandering about in the woods and looking at a big hole. It wasn't deep though, far from the usual six feet under most would expect. With two coffins inside, they all agreed that the earth covering them would be a few inches at most.
All they concluded was that whoever buried them wasn't concerned about the bodies being discovered.
It was, and Stanley smiled as he thought it, a true mystery.
This was the big time. This was no minor job involving a missing cat, and it far exceeded his first case, which he lucked into. This was proper double murder—high mystery, the police can't solve it and only one man can, kind of a case.
Only problem being, he had no clues and wasn't sure what to do next.
"Okay, let's go have lunch, check on your mum and aunt, and then we'll come back out and talk to a few people," said Stanley to Spider.
"Sounds good to me. Race you to the car, Roobarb." Spider and Roobarb ran ahead, fighting to get into the back seat first.
"I think we know what Spider has been missing all this time," said Kate.
"Yeah, murder."
"No, silly. He wants to feel useful and be part of something. Spend time with family and get out of that damn house."
"We'll have to deal with that, too," said Stanley. "Something bad could have happened there."
"Dad, you really think they could have died?"
"Absolutely. Carbon monoxide poisoning can kill you fast. The place is a death trap even without the risk of gas, anyway. Spider and Pam have probably been sick for months. No wonder he's perked up, getting some fresh air. Well, that and the murder stuff. Teenage kids are all the same."
"What's your excuse?" said Kate, nudging him in the belly. "Boing."
"You cheeky sod, it's getting slimmer, isn't it?"
"Yeah, just messin'. Come on, I'll drive us home."
"Oh, great, can't wait."
"You wanna walk?"
"Um, how far is it?"
Stanley took a deep breath and headed to the car of doom.
***
"Hello, love. Pam." Stanley smiled at his wife, sat in her chair at the kitchen table. Pam, much to his surprise, appeared happy and like a new woman. She was actually just filling up the kettle.
"Have you taken your shoes off?"
"Yes."
"Have you wiped Roobarb's paws?"
"Yes."
"Have you given me a kiss yet?"
"No, but I'm about to." Stanley walked over to his wife, bent, and kissed her.
"Fancy a cuppa, Stanley?"
"Well, I would, but who are you? I thought Pam was staying, and Pam doesn't make tea."
"Oh, haha. Stanley you are such a wit. You all look tired though. Had a nice morning have you?" Kate and Spider put the boxes down on the cramped kitchen counter while Roobarb went over to his Auntie Pam and got an ear scratch.
Stanley mouthed a silent, "What's got into her?" to his wife. Babs shook her head, as bemused as him.
Pam clattered about in the kitchen, humming and making tea while the rest of them moved into the living room—there wasn't enough space for them all in the tiny kitchen. Custard the cat opened an eye from her spot on Stanley's recliner, licked where nobody wants to watch a cat lick, then went back to sleep.
"Bloody ca
t, she's nicked my chair again." For once, Stanley didn't mind. He needed to stand to stretch out his back and his hip. The driving, and the cold, damp forest had done him no favors. Still, he wasn't doubled over in pain, so he didn't really feel like complaining. He hardly ever needed to use the walking stick any more either, although he should probably take it with him.
"How was your detectiving?" asked Babs, looking shocked by her morning with her sister.
"Not bad, Mum, we'll tell you all about it later. But first, what—"
"It was great, Auntie Babs," interrupted Spider. "We met a chav, and we went to a murder scene, and Stanley thinks someone has been trying to kill us all. We found buried treasure and we—"
"Slow down, slow down. My, oh my, what's got into everyone today? Pam is full of life, you're, well, you're talking, which is a first, and Stanley, what are you taking Spider to nasty places for? I thought you were going to take him with you, not show him bodies and other horrid things."
"Love, we haven't been looking at bodies. They don't just let you walk in and look at dead people, you know."
"Oh, I thought now you were an official detective then when you are off doing your detectiving then they had to let you?"
Stanley was sure Babs was now saying it on purpose. Surely she must know it sounded silly?
"Mum, that's not how it works."
"Tea's ready," sang Pam, walking in with a tray laden with mugs, teapot, biscuits, and a bowl of sugar.
Stanley shooed the cat off his chair and sighed as he sank back into the perfect contours. This was it, it had finally happened. Invasion of the body snatchers. Half his family had been replaced with clones. Happy clones.
What next, Pam bringing him a beer and making lunch?
Stanley zoned out of the chatter, his home alive with the sound of family.
He watched the rise and fall of Roobarb's chest, curled up on the rug by the cold fire. He was already snoring. Moment's later Stanley joined his dog in the land of sleep.
Old Age Private Oh My! Page 6