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BLOOD DRUGS TEA (A Dark Comedy Novel)

Page 7

by Saunders, Craig


  *

  I wondered how many cold corpses have lain where the great walkers roamed. I wish I had a talent for figures, I think it would be useful to figure out how many people have lived and died since the beginning of humanity and work out the average two dimensional mass of all those dead bodies, against the size of the land mass, and figure out how likely it is that you’re walking over a place where someone has died. I reckon it’s a fair bet at some point in the past someone died right under your bed.

  *

  I wondered this as I drank the remainder of my coffee. It’s a defence mechanism. When I don’t want to think about something, like how Joe was slowly loosing it to a disease of the mind, my brain dreams up something else for me to think about. As a consequence of my own cowardice I don’t spend too long worrying about the mental demise of my friend and spend more time living in the cocoon of my ambient thoughts.

  I didn’t try to think anything sensible. I let my mind take me where it would and watched almost as a third person as Harry took Joe by the arm and led him away from the café. I followed them out.

  She doesn’t say it but she doesn’t like him to stay out when he’s having a funny turn. I know she’ll go to her house and keep Joe there till he’s a bit more rational.

  I know I’d rather she did that too. I don’t do nurse well.

  There was a notice board near the front door. I looked at it before I left. I like to be informed.

  It turned out there’s an aerobics class on Monday as well. It’s amazing what you can find out from the local library.

  Before we parted we decided that Pill and I should go and talk to the aerobics instructor. It starts at seven and finishes at eight. I would have thought it was safe to leave James Tamerlain to Joe and Harry but for Joe’s little outburst over coffee. I couldn’t risk it. I decided I’d go over to James Tamerlain’s home when school was out. He should be home around five. I left Harry and Joe outside the library and pulled my collar up for the walk back home.

  *

  I got home, my brain protecting me from the worst of the worry about Joe on the way.

  Pill was there waiting for me. He’d thrown a sicky and taken a half-day from work. We entered my house together, the warm musty smell greeting me as I went in. It was good to be home.

  Pill and I killed some time with a joint. Time bled.

  We listened to Death in Vegas.

  *

  9. The Dork

  At four o’clock we took a taxi to O’Connell Street, which was three blocks away from St Mary’s.

  We arrived outside James Tamerlain’s house just gone four o’clock. I hoped he was in. The rain had just started to fall and my hair was going frizzy. It was cold around the ears and Pill, whose ears stuck out the best of times, looked funny with his big red ears and a red nose.

  There was a blue Rayleigh racer outside his house with a thick chain on it. I guessed plenty of teachers couldn’t afford a car or thought it was healthier biking into school. But then the school wasn’t far so I’m not sure how healthy biking would be. I figured bikes were stupid. Like horses. An outdate mode of transport. Get a car or walk.

  At least you could eat a horse. All bikes were good for was lowering you sperm count and giving you piles.

  The house wasn’t really that spectacular. I would go into greater detail but describing houses just isn’t important enough to warrant the effort involved.

  I expected some rugged outdoor type from the bike and Tracey’s previous form with her ruggedly handsome boyfriend. I was pleasantly surprised though when my knock on the door was answered by a small man, with a pinstriped shirt on and trousers with a razor crease down the front, a white v-neck sweater draped across his narrow shoulders. I bet he played cricket for the teachers. Any respect I would have shown toward him was gone. Nobody who wore a jumper on their shoulders deserved respect. Except perhaps Omar Shariff.

  “James Tamerlain?” I asked.

  “Yes?”

  “My name’s Jake Black. This is Paul Garse.” It wouldn’t do to call Pill Pill when we were out on business. I can’t recall now if I’d given Pill his moniker or if it was some hangover from days prior to our friendship. It suited him though. I thought it was a cool name. Didn’t help him get girls any more than my name did for me. I could do with a cool nickname. I’d always liked Deathslinger but then I’d liked roleplaying games as a kid. I’m a long ways from cool. I realise this without you having to tell me.

  “Yes?”

  “We were wondering if we might come in. It’s about Tracey Hardingham.”

  “Tracey? What about her? Who are you? What for?” What for? I felt like playing a little cricket. I pulled my pads on. Came to the crease. I’d give him what for, little gimp.

  I was feeling vitriolic. It’s something about a weak face. It brings out the worst in me. He didn’t even have a chin.

  “We investigating a crime, Mr Tamerlain. I’m sorry this might come as a bit of a shock but Tracey’s been murdered. You’ll have to talk to the police anyway so you might as well get it out of the way.”

  “Murdered?”

  “Yes,” I sighed inwardly. It seemed Mr Tamerlain was a little slow as well as a bit of a geek. Still, he hadn’t thought to ask what business it was of our. I wasn’t sure I could come up with an answer if he did.

  “We split up some time ago.” Like it wasn’t anything to do with him. I didn’t like him already. I was like the cops when I got my investigating head on. He smelled weak.

  “We understand you were seeing her?”

  “Who are you?” he asked again stubbornly.

  “We’re investigating Tracey’s death. We thought you might be able to help. You do want to help don’t you?”

  He looked like he was digesting this. He didn’t really know what we had to do with the crime but he looked like he was going to talk to us anyway.

  “You’d better come in.”

  Knocked him for six in the first over.

  *

  He led us into a pale room with minimal furniture. It was nicely decorated. It looked like magenta on the walls and the furniture, a three-piece suite, was cream with light wood feet. There was a nest of tables in pine, and pine shelves on the walls holding school texts. Like he read them for fun. I didn’t think so somehow. He looked more of a magazine man, but there was no magazine rack.

  “I don’t really understand why you’re here. You’re obviously not the police.”

  “Obviously not, Mr Tamerlain. Tea?”

  “Yes, yes, of course, tea. Sugar?”

  It was so easy preying on the weak. He’d answer anything we asked him, even though he didn’t know what we were doing asking about the crime. He was under no illusions that we were the police.

  Pill and I both turned down sugar and turned to a more in depth examination of his front room while Mr Tamerlain left to make tea.

  There was nothing that spoke of any real personality. Everything was bland. But then perhaps that was his personality. I thought about it while he was out for the tea. It seemed about right. A man with no personality outside of teaching. A lot of teachers don’t have anything outside of teaching. I guessed he didn’t either. It would have been sad but for my instant dislike of the man. I didn’t ask Pill what he thought. Pill was reading the titles on the books with his head cocked to one side. Like he couldn’t read sideways.

  Mr Tamerlain came back with a pot of tea, which he placed on the largest of his table nest. I poured myself a cup before saying anything. Pill poured a cup for Mr Tamerlain and then for himself.

  “Mr Tamerlain, I understand Tracey’s death must come as a shock to you, but if you want us to catch her killer you’ll talk to us.”

  “Yes, of course. I had no idea. What a terrible thing. You’ll have to excuse me, it’s all come as a bit of a shock. Murdered, you say?”

  “Yes, on Sunday morning.”

  “So, you’re working with the police are you?”

  “No, we investiga
te crimes such as this one. Now, I have some questions to ask you.”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” He seemed so eager to please.

  “Where were you Saturday night, about three in the morning?”

  “Is that when she died?”

  “Yes, that’s when she died.”

  “I was right here. I was alone though. I don’t suppose that helps.” Surprise. I could imagine he spent a lot of time alone. I decided people in stone houses shouldn’t throw glass though.

  “How long was it since you’ve seen Tracey?”

  “A long time now. I haven’t seen her since we split up, about five months ago.”

  “Not six?”

  “It could have been. It was in September, so about six months, I suppose.”

  He supposed a lot. Another sign of weakness. I wished I could tear out his jugular but I held onto my instinct. No point in getting bestial when you’re just questioning someone. After all, I had no reason to suspect him of anything other than being a bit of a drip. I really could see the pretty Tracey with such a gimp but then I couldn’t see her with her boyfriend. The world of love is full of surprises.

  “How long did you see each other for?”

  “We weren’t really seeing each other as such. It was just for sex. She had a boyfriend and we used to meet here more than anywhere else.”

  The surprises just kept coming. I couldn’t imagine this man as an object of feminine desire. Stranger things have happened though. Perhaps she fancied him because he was kind to children. I guess he would be a kind teacher. I couldn’t imagine him birching any of his charges.

  “But how long?”

  “A couple of months. She got itchy feet though and went back to her boyfriend. She never really left him. She’d only ever come round here on Thursday nights.” He pulled at his hair, which hung long over his ears, like he was trying to straighten it out. It made me self-conscious. I patted my hair down.

  “Thursday nights?”

  “Yes, every week for a couple of months. We never went out. We just stayed in and made love.”

  Made love. He made me sick.

  “Did she ever see anyone else, to your knowledge?”

  “No, not that I know of. She was obviously upset about the whole affair. It was her who called it off.”

  “Why did she say that was?”

  He coughed. “She said I wasn’t really doing it for her. She was, erm, quite demanding.”

  “Did you do it with the lights on or off?” asked Pill.

  “Now what kind of question is that?”

  “It’s essential, I’m afraid.” I could tell Pill had left the ‘sir’ lurking at the end of that sentence off on purpose. There were many ways to skin a cat and showing it respect first wasn’t one of them.

  “Off, if you must know.” He looked mortified but I knew why Pill had asked. Tracey kept her tracks secret from everyone she was close to. It was obviously a dark secret for her.

  There came a knock at the door before I could ask anything else. He said excuse me and left to answer it.

  There was a slight lull and I could hear him talking quietly at the door. The door closed and the police came in. There were two of them, both detectives. They must be short of leads. I know I was. I smiled sweetly at them.

  “Did you invite these men in?” asked the first one to come into the living room. He had burly hair.

  “Yes, they said they were investigating Tracey’s murder.” The school teacher was obviously uncomfortable. He was pulling at his hair again.

  “I think it’s time for you to leave,” said the first detective pointedly. I didn’t recognise him, but he obviously knew me.

  He had a thick nose that looked like it had been broken a couple of times. I got the impression he wasn’t pleased to see us.

  I left my smile in place. I almost choked on it. “Just going anyway,” I said. Best to capitulate in the face of overwhelming force.

  *

  “Well, what do you think?” I asked Pill as we were ushered out of the door without even so much of a goodbye from Mr Tamerlain. I hadn’t even finished my tea. How rude.

  Pill took his mobile out of his pocket to call us a taxi. His was the flip up kind and he flipped it open with a flick of the wrist. I was impressed. I flipped a cigarette into my mouth so I didn’t feel outdone.

  “I don’t think he did it. He didn’t look to have the stones to break someone’s neck.”

  “No, that’s pretty much what I thought. A bit of a wuss. I didn’t like him though. He seemed wrong somehow.”

  “Yeah,” said Pill, putting in the number of the taxi firm. “He’s probably a nonce.”

  There was a sobering thought. “Dead end.” I said.

  He nodded and spoke into the phone. It had just started to rain. Rain stopped play.

  *

  10. Buns

  Pill and I got back after a slight dousing between the taxi and the front door. The police had still been in when we’d finally left James Tamerlain’s front doorstep, sheltering from the light rain. The day had darkened already and the street lights were on before we got in the taxi.

  We took our time getting ready to go out again. This time we determined to take an umbrella.

  After a dinner of baked beans on toast Pill and I donned our coats and left to talk to the aerobics instructor.

  The aerobics hall was the Southport Community Centre. It had the look of Community Centres everywhere. What had started out as a good intention just looked like a tired and jaded fat old whore. That was what Joe would have said. Not me of course. I don’t think like that. I just thought it looked past its sell by date. I have a much more literal mind.

  When we got there the aerobics class was just finishing. The place was packed with women I suspected didn’t really need toning. It was enough to give a monk a proud on.

  We waited for the aerobics class to finish and went in to talk to the instructor, who was bending over in a leotard to pick up her CD player. I coughed, and not to be polite. Her bending over like that could give a man palsy.

  “Excuse me?” I said.

  “Yes?” she said, turning. She took one look at me and Pill and said, “You’re not here for the aerobics are you?”

  “No,” I said. “We don’t know if you’ve been told but one of your class has been murdered.”

  “Oh my god!” she said and put a perfectly formed hand to a sumptuous mouth. “Who?” Nobody asked for introductions after news like that. It saved a lot of explaining.

  “Tracey Hardingham.”

  “How awful! What happened?” She looked cute when she was shocked. I thought if Harry hadn’t been the love of my life I could at least spend it in bed with this one. She didn’t have the light of intellect behind her eyes though. I was sure, given the right incentive, that I could overlook it. Pill was struck dumb by lust beside me. I usually do the talking anyway so it didn’t make much of a difference.

  I wondered what it was about aerobics that toned bodies so well. You’d think a bunch of girls dancing around like sweaty twats would be a turn off but no, it seemed everything was working in that department. I coughed again for the sake of decorum.

  “She was pushed from a multi-story car park. I know it might come as a bit of a shock but we really need to talk to you.”

  She pulled herself together and prepared to talk. Women were always much easier to talk to. She didn’t even think to ask if we were policemen. Perhaps the shock had taken away her perception. Pill and I could in no way be mistaken for coppers.

  “Oh, OK,” she said.

  “When did you see her last?” I took out my little notebook to add to the illusion. She might think we were coppers and that helped, but I couldn’t come right out and pretend. I’d have to let her make her own mind up about that but I could help her along. Pill seemed to get the idea and put both of his hands behind his back. I didn’t think it would help that I was wearing jeans though, but she didn’t seem to notice. At least my duffel coat
looked the part, if I was a cop from a seventies show. And undercover.

  “Tuesday last week. She came as she always did.”

  “Did you know her well?”

  “Well, I knew who she was. It’s only a small class on Tuesdays.”

  “What was she like?”

  “She was quite quiet. She always said hello and goodbye, and talked to a few of the class afterward. She never socialised with any of the class though. I always thought she was nice.”

  “Why didn’t she come on Thursday? Do you know?”

  She looked puzzled. “She never came on a Thursday. Why?”

  “Oh, no reason,” I covered. “Well, is there anything else you can think of that might help our, erm, enquiries?”

  “No, I mean, last time I saw her she seemed fine. But like I said nobody her really knew her well.”

  I saw a flash of red out the corner of my eye. I didn’t look around but I got the impression someone was watching us.

  “Well, thank you for your time.”

  “Don’t mention it,” she smiled and the room lit up a little. I had to nudge Pill to get him to close his mouth. He was officially agape.

  “Thank you for your cooperation,” I added, just to sound officious.

  “Come on, let’s go,” I said to Pill. She must have surely twigged that we weren’t police from the way Pill was behaving but she turned her back and carried on what she was doing.

  She had a nice back.

  *

 

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