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BLOOD DRUGS TEA (A Dark Comedy Novel)

Page 17

by Saunders, Craig


  “She killed herself!” she screamed. The girls down the street didn’t look at us. I could feel them not looking at us.

  “Yeah, right, she killed herself. She broke her own neck.”

  “If you’d just listen.” She looked as stormy as the clouds above. Her mascara had run in rivulets down her pockmarked cheeks.

  “I’m all ears.”

  “She tried to give me the ring. She said she wanted us to live together. That she loved me. I couldn’t love her. It was my fault she died. If I’d just taken the ring. She called me that night, in tears. I agreed to meet her even though I was working that night. We usually only met once a week, but she’d always wanted more. I couldn’t give her more. Not like this. Look at my job. No one could love a woman like me. She tried to give me the ring and I threw it back at her. I knew she was getting too close so I told her I didn’t want to see her anymore. That’s when it happened.”

  Finally, I was getting somewhere. I knew I was going to find out what happened that night. It might have taken a few false starts. Alright, I was wrong all the way along but you’ve got to have confidence to solve crimes.

  Where do I get that confidence from? Well, I’m a writer, it’s my trade, cock book or no. Thank your lucky stars that’s all it is – at least writer’s are, for the most part, humbly megalomaniacal. Well, alright, Hitler and Hussein are notable exceptions, but then if rules had no exceptions chaos would be square and time would be measured on rulers.

  I knew I was coming to the end. Mary was the last link in the chain. I might not have seen it from the start but now I was here I could recognise the signs. I told you I’m perceptive.

  My brain just doesn’t work right in situations like this. It’s great at defending itself against thing that I didn’t want to hear. I didn’t want to hear this so my brain started rambling. I tried to concentrate.

  “She hung herself.”

  “What?” I said, incredulous. “You snapped her neck. I guess the hatred you felt for her making you feel human again…”

  “No, she said if I didn’t want her there was no point in living. She hung herself from the railing at the top of the car park. I was walking away. You don’t understand. I couldn’t stop her. I couldn’t love her and I couldn’t stop her. When I turned around she’d thrown herself over the side. She was hanging there. Her scarf was tied round her neck. I got there and she was hanging off the side. I tried to pull her back up but the scarf slipped and she fell. I couldn’t save her.”

  She started crying again, sniffing loudly. I found myself attracted to her. I can’t resist a girl crying for long.

  I couldn’t believe it. There was just no way Tracey had killed herself. But then the more I thought about it the more it made sense. Who would strangle someone, break their neck and throw them off a multi-story? It didn’t work as a murder but as a suicide it made a sick kind of sense. I determined to listen to what Mary had to say. It was all I had left.

  “Why were you at the top of the multi-story?”

  “We went up there to be alone. She said she just wanted to talk in private. I’d been up there before, you know, working, and nobody ever came up there at night.”

  “So you’re saying she fell?”

  “I’m not saying it. That’s what happened. I didn’t want the police to find me. A girl in my line of work, a clean-cut girl like that. I didn’t want them to think I’d done it. I went down to, you know, check,” she sniffed. There were dribbles forming on the end of her nose. “But she was already dead.”

  “What did you do then?”

  “I put her legs straight. Her pants were showing. It didn’t seem right. Her head was the wrong shape. There was blood there. I ran.”

  “Did you touch her?”

  “Yes, I guess I did. I put my umbrella over her face to cover it. It seemed wrong that anyone should see her like that.”

  I bet it was her fingerprint. She didn’t know she’d left it so the police wouldn’t know. She’d tell them about the ring but then anybody could have stolen that, right? No, that didn’t tie up.

  “What about the note Mary? Why did you leave a note?”

  “What note?”

  “The note. Come on. You’ve told me everything else. What about the note?”

  “But I didn’t leave any note. I’ve told you everything I know. Now just leave me alone.”

  “You’re going to have to talk to the police. I’ll talk to them first. Nothing’s going to happen to you Mary. I think you’ve been through enough already.”

  This wasn’t what I’d been expecting but I could tell she wasn’t lying. Pill was still lounging by the wall. I looked at him and he nodded at me. He thought she was telling the truth too. I felt sorry for her. Her one chance at love and she hadn’t been able to take it.

  “I wish to god I had told her I loved her.”

  “God? What’s God got to do with love?”

  People always revert to religion in trying times. Don’t talk to me about religion. You ever notice how much gold the church has? Ever notice how they’re all bald? They’re not human, buddy. They’re a secret alien race of baldy gold thieves.

  There it goes again.

  It wasn’t a relevant thought for the time but that’s what my brain does to protect me. It was just too much to take in.

  “You’ll talk to the police?” she said.

  “Yeah, I’ll talk to the police.” I would too. This would get Joe off. But the note. It still didn’t add up.

  “There’s something you’ve got to do for me, Mary.”

  “What?”

  “Take this.” I handed her the ring. “Take it for Tracey. You don’t have to keep it, just so long as you don’t let the police know about it. This will be our secret.”

  “You’ll really talk to the police for me?” she asked. She held the ring in her palm, gingerly. Like it burned.

  “Just take the ring.”

  “Take care, Mary,” said Pill. His only contribution to the conversation.

  I couldn’t say anything more to her. I felt a little sorry for her. But not too sorry. It wasn’t her fault that Tracey was dead. I think Tracey would have self destructed left to her own devices.

  I felt a little sad.

  We left her crumpled by the side of the road.

  *

  We got home around three in the morning. I felt drained. I couldn’t believe it but there was nothing else for it. I knew she’d been telling the truth. It did make sense. The sequence of her injuries. It probably wasn’t what she had in mind when she’d killed herself. I didn’t know what made people kill themselves but Tracey must have been carrying around so much pain for so long.

  But if she wasn’t murdered, why was there a note?

  I had to believe Mary. It made everything fall into place. The ring by the side of the body, the umbrella and the muffler, swinging in the wind. The strangulation marks, the broken neck, the caved in head. It all made a kind of sense. I’d phone Johnny in the morning.

  But what about the note? It was just too much to take in. I couldn’t take it all. My mind was trying to take me off into uncharted waters and I was too tired of it all to stop it. I let my mind drift. Tomorrow was another day. I would find the answers then, even if I didn’t want it to. I didn’t have the first clue about the note. But then if I’m truly honest I didn’t really have a clue about the murder either. So much for my little grey cells. It had been donkeywork, pure and simple.

  “What are you thinking about?” asked Pill, pulling me back to the here and now.

  “About the case. I believed her. Why would she lie?”

  “She lied once.”

  “But not today.”

  “No, I got the impression she was telling the truth today.”

  “Get some sleep Pill. I’m going to bed.”

  I went to bed, leaving Pill on the couch. I needed to get some sleep. The sadness wouldn’t leave me.

  Friday would be a long day.

  *
/>   25. Faith

  (Not the kind with big boobs)

  I thought if I won the lottery I’d do all sorts of stuff. I’d get a loud hailer in housing estate and call out that I was giving out tenners. Some people wouldn’t come out, some would. The first person wouldn’t attack me for the cash I’d have on me. I’m fairly sure of it. After that they couldn’t. All I’d have to do was stop the crowd turning into a mob and I’d be fine. People would queue. People would queue at the end of the world. I loved the woman who invented queues.

  The idea of me doing something so stupid wouldn’t be to make myself feel good about giving to the needy. The needy can look after themselves as far as I’m concerned. I’d do it to reaffirm my faith in people, to make me see that it’s not all bad.

  I’d thought the worst of Mary Hunford but it turned out she was just scared and alone. Like the rest of us. I didn’t want to end up like that.

  I got up out of bed. Pill was still sleeping on the couch. It had been a late night. I let him sleep.

  *

  Who could have done it? What if it wasn’t a murder? I had no reason to disbelieve Mary. She’d cried, after all. It all made sense now. There was no way she could have snapped Tracey’s neck. She just wasn’t strong enough. The muffler hanging. The umbrella. The ring beside the body, tumbling from Tracey’s hand as death released its grip. It all made sense. But there was one discordant note. The note. I am as shadow. Almost theatrical. It didn’t mean anything. If Mary wasn’t lying? Where did the note come from?

  Why would anyone leave a note? The only reason I could come up with was to make it look like a murder. Who’d want to make it look like a murder? What possible reason could there be?

  *

  I had my suspicions by the time Pill woke up. It took me two cups of coffee to get there but in the end it wasn’t a great leap of imagination. I’d have to prove it, of course. But I needed to be sure. It would really spoil my day if I was right.

  “Morning,” I said.

  “Morning,” he yawned widely. “How long you been up?”

  “Quite a while.”

  “Been thinking, eh?”

  “What, can you see the sweat on my brow?”

  “Yeah. The note?”

  “Yeah, the note.”

  “Don’t make sense, does it? I figure the same thing. Everything but the note makes sense.”

  “Well, I’ve got some thoughts about it.”

  “Well don’t pepper the bread, what are you thinking?”

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  “Man, you’re annoying sometimes.”

  “I’m just not sure yet. You want some breakfast?”

  “Sure, what have you got?”

  “Toast and eggs. How’d do you want it?”

  *

  Pill left in time for work and I called Johnny. He was in. It sounded like he’d had a sleepless night. I’d go easy on him. I knew what it was like to be lacking sleep.

  “Johnny, I’ve solved it.”

  “What are you talking about? We’ve already solved it.”

  “But you’ve got no physical evidence. You won’t make a case stick against Joe.”

  “It doesn’t matter. He’s been committed. Case or not we’re bringing charges.”

  “Don’t jump the gun. What I’ve got to tell you will change your mind.”

  “Well, you’ve never been wrong before so I’ll hear you out but I have to tell you I’m sceptical.”

  “Sceptical away. I’ve got proof.”

  “Fine,” he sighed, “let’s hear it.”

  “I met a girl last night…”

  “Bully for you.”

  “…a working girl.”

  “Doesn’t sound like you Jake, you feeling alright?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t meet her like that. I met her because she was Tracey Hardingham’s lover.”

  There was silence on the other end of the phone. I carried on.

  “Tracey Hardingham was in love with a woman called Mary Hunford, the working girl I told you about. It was unrequited love. She tried to get Mary to give up her work and move in with her. This was a big deal for Tracey. She’d been hiding her proclivities since she was in college, when her first relationship had gone south. She and her parents had a fight about Tracey’s leanings. Tracey left home shortly afterward. She spent her life trying to cover up what she must have thought was a dark secret. I don’t know why she didn’t accept it after all these years but it can take years for someone to accept they’re gay.”

  “You’re not wrong there. It took me ten years to come out.”

  “I know. You’ve told me before. It must have been hard for you but I don’t think Tracey ever admitted it to herself.”

  “So if what you’re saying is true Tracey kept this a secret from everyone she knew?”

  “Yes. She was good at keeping secrets. She’d kept her habit a secret even from those who thought they’d been close to her.”

  “Alright. Go on.”

  “Now bear with me. This might not make sense but I’ve got a witness. Tracey wasn’t murdered.”

  “What are you talking about? Her neck was snapped before she was thrown over the side of the multi-story.”

  “That’s how it seems. It’s a viable conclusion but it’s an assumption. There just aren’t enough facts to make it incontrovertible. I have new evidence that proves she wasn’t murdered. I’ve got an eyewitness. You don’t get better than that.”

  “Who’s your witness?”

  “Mary Hunford.”

  “OK, Jake. But she’s got to be a suspect, too. What did she say she saw?”

  “Say that again fast.”

  “Just get on with it.”

  I took a breath. “Tracey told Mary Hunford she loved her. It was a big thing for Tracey. She’d been keeping secrets for so long she’d almost got to believe the lie. But the real Tracey was in love with Mary. Mary, on the other hand, just couldn’t let herself be loved. She works as a prostitute. She must have a very low sense of self worth. She didn’t feel worthy of love. She turned Tracey down. It was a blow like no other to Tracey. She couldn’t take the rejection. The first time since she was in college that she’d had the bottle to admit how she felt and she was rejected.”

  “So Mary killed her? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “No one killed her, Johnny, I’ve already told you that. That’s why this doesn’t make sense. She hung herself with her scarf but the knot gave way and she fell. She broke her neck hanging herself. That’s why there were strangulation marks.”

  “You’re witness will corroborate this?”

  “Yes she will. She saw it all. Afterward she rearranged Tracey’s legs. She was worried how it would look when the body was found. Then she ran. She was scared. She’s still scared.”

  “I believe you but it doesn’t make sense. There’s one thing you’re overlooking.”

  “The note.”

  “Yes, the note.”

  “I’m not overlooking it. I’m just still working on that.”

  “Well, it’s a big thing to overlook.”

  “I know it is, but the note doesn’t fit. The rest of this is gospel. Talk to the girl.”

  “I’ll talk to the girl. Where is she?”

  “You’ll find her outside Shufflers after closing time. That’s where she works.”

  “I’ll talk to her.”

  “So Joe will be getting out?”

  “No, whether he did it or not he’s still been committed. But if your story pans out we won’t charge him. He’ll get treatment and he’ll get out after his time is up.”

  “Then that’ll have to do. Thanks, Johnny.”

  “Let me know about the note. I’m still not convinced.”

  “I’ll figure it out. I’ve already got a theory.”

  “Well it had better be a good one.”

  *

  I had nothing better to do. It was still early. I rolled a makeshift joint from leftovers and smoked it with
extra tobacco. It didn’t fall apart, but it burned to one side and I had to keep licking it to get it to smoke right. It was weak, too, and didn’t really help with the feelings of anxiety that were threatening to stop me functioning.

  I had a cup of coffee and finished the pot. I washed up.

  *

  26. STD

  I spent rest of the morning getting ready. I was in no hurry to test out my theory. I wanted to be wrong.

  I smoked some cigarettes and thought about Harry coming over tonight. I could get ready later but I didn’t want the house to smell too bad by the time she got over so I sprayed some cologne on the couch and turned the cushions over. I would have hoovered but I don’t have a hoover. I got a dustpan and brush out from under the sink and brushed some rogue tobacco from under the coffee table into it.

  I find cleaning cathartic but I don’t need catharsis very often. I usually make do with gear for my spiritual needs.

  The coffee table was scuffed and there were ring marks where mugs of tea had taken off the varnish. I polished it as best as I could. I cleaned my best tray and got out a couple of clean tea towels to eat off of. I could do with another tray. I put toilet duck down the toilet but I didn’t have a spare scrubber so I used the washing up scrubber and rinsed it out again in the sink.

  I busied myself for the rest of the morning, trying not to think about the case, but it kept intruding in my mind. There was something wrong and I thought I knew what it was. I wanted to be wrong. I wanted that so badly. My world couldn’t take any more rocking.

  I did everything I could to tidy up the house. I even fluffed my bed sheets in the futile hope that it would see some action. I felt stupid doing it. Only then did I get changed and get ready to go out. When I closed the door behind me I remembered I’d forgotten to brush my teeth.

  *

  I called round to Reb’s at lunchtime. I was hoping he was in. I didn’t bother to phone first.

  Vic opened the door. He had on a poncho made out of what looked to me like a blanket, and a roll up hanging out the corner of his mouth. He didn’t look at all like Clint Eastwood.

 

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