Stick in the Mud: A riveting murder mystery

by Leo McNeir

  When Marnie passed on Uschi’s message and added that it was urgent, Donovan’s face clouded over. He reached in a pocket for his mobile, but Marnie pointed at the phone on her desk and invited him to use it. She went with Anne to the utility room at the back of the office and helped unpack her bag. While they loaded used clothes into the washing machine, Marnie asked for an update. They commiserated with each other at the lack of progress.

  Returning to the office they found Donovan sitting in Marnie’s chair, deep in thought. He did not look happy.

  “Are you able to talk about it?” Marnie said gently.

  “It’s Helmut, my uncle. He’s had another heart attack.”

  “Another?” Anne said.

  “It seems the time he collapsed was a minor attack. This one’s more serious. He’s having an emergency operation this morning.”

  “Will you go to see him?”

  “I must.”

  “Of course,” Marnie said. “You’ll want to leave straight away.”

  “Yes. I can get a Lufthansa flight to Hanover from Heathrow.”

  Marnie grabbed the phone, asked directory enquiries for the number and rang the airline. They confirmed there was a flight that afternoon and seats were available. Marnie passed the handset to Donovan who made a reservation there and then. When he came off the line, she offered to take him to the airport, but he preferred to drive himself, so that the car was available for him when he got back.

  Minutes later, Marnie and Anne waved Donovan off up the field track. Marnie put an arm round Anne’s shoulders to comfort her, sensing the concern she felt for Donovan. Watching the squat black car climbing the slope, they both shared the same thought. Could anything more go wrong this summer?

  They were soon to find out.

  27

  Homeward Bound

  Thursday 26 July, 1997

  For Anne, early starts were becoming the norm. At supper the previous evening Marnie had announced she was finding it increasingly difficult to settle into her normal pattern of work in the office. Most of her local clients were still on holiday, and she was ahead of herself on her entire programme. And she had to admit, she was fretting about the problems with Horselydown in general and Dick’s absence in particular. She wanted to return to London at the earliest possible moment. Anne immediately offered to join her.

  Ralph volunteered to hold the fort in the office, which meant in practical terms working at Marnie’s desk and taking phone calls. Marnie felt guilty about imposing on him, but he pointed out that he would have support from Dolly, and the matter was settled.

  Bags had been hurriedly packed that evening in readiness for an early start on Thursday morning. The Discovery lumbered up the slope under a cloudy threatening sky, with puffs of light grey smoke emanating from the exhaust. Marnie steered the chunky car round the tussocks and bumps in the field, determined to overcome all the issues that were bothering the clients in London. At the same time she would track down Dick Blackwood and get to the bottom of his story once and for all.

  Beside her, with no lesser resolve, Anne allowed her thoughts to stray to a small town in Germany where a man she had never met was fighting for his life and another man who was becomingly ever more important to her was willing him to survive.

  At that early hour they made rapid progress on their drive south. Traffic on the motorway was moderate, and even in London it was less heavy than outside the holiday season. With the Disco occupying its slot in the underground car park, Marnie and Anne had time in hand to take a shower and a cup of coffee. They entered the building site fresh and ready for the day ahead.

  Philip’s delight at seeing them told its own story. Despite his restrained and self-possessed style, he was clearly worried about a project on which so much of his company’s reputation depended. He embraced Marnie and Anne warmly, and the light came back into his eyes when Marnie confirmed that she was confident there were no questions about her scheme that she could not answer.

  And so it proved to be. Marnie, Anne and Philip were joined at the meeting by two senior managers from Willards Brewery, plus the site agent and a quantity surveyor. Marnie guided them through each part of the design scheme, step by step, so comprehensively that the few questions she had to handle were on minor points of detail. When she came to the end of her presentation there were smiles all round the table. Philip commented that it had been some time since that had been the case on this project.

  “Good old Marnie,” he said. “It’s good to see you haven’t lost your touch. The old magic is still there.”

  Amid murmurings of appreciation he asked, “Any other business, gentlemen?”

  There were no takers. Marnie raised a finger.

  “You wish to add something, Marnie?”

  “Just one thing, Philip … Go easy on the old, okay?”

  *

  As the participants emerged from the meeting, Anne found herself standing alone on the threshold of the hut. Holding the door open for Marnie, she noticed that one of the Willards managers had taken her aside for a quiet word. Not wishing to intrude, she decided to wait at a discreet distance outside. By chance, the end of the meeting coincided with the archaeologists’ morning break, and the students were climbing out of the excavation. Anne wandered over towards them and discovered a new development. A refreshment stand had been set up by the contractors since her last visit to the site, and drinks and snacks were being distributed at no charge.

  Anne spotted Debbie in the queue. The Afro-Caribbean student was wearing her familiar green denim fatigues.

  “Debbie, remember me … Anne?”

  The sparkling white smile. “Course I do. How’s things?”

  “Okay. You? I see the facilities round here have improved.”

  “Started this week. Actually, everything’s better these days.”

  “Who’s in charge of the dig now?” Anne asked.

  “Andy and Siân … you know the two postgrads?”

  “What about Dick Blackwood? Is he back?”

  Debbie shrugged. “Haven’t seen him for ages, not since …”

  “No, right. I expect things have quietened down a bit since then.”

  “Absolutely. I don’t want to speak ill of … you know …” She mouthed Zoë. “But we don’t have the daily rows any more. No warring factions, no hassle to look forward to every day. And the prof looks in every few days. It’s cool.”

  “That’s great.” Anne patted Debbie’s arm and turned to go.

  “Anne? Your friend not with you?”

  “Which one?”

  “Donovan?”

  “He’s … away at the moment.”

  “Pity. Tell him he’s welcome back any time.”

  “You miss the filming?” Anne said casually.

  Debbie paused and flashed the brilliant smile. “Something like that.”

  *

  Marnie turned down Philip’s offer of lunch, saying she had to get back to base. He accepted her excuse and thanked her for taking time out to meet the clients. They both knew it had been little more than a morale boosting exercise. Walking back to the flat, Anne asked if they would be driving home straight away. Marnie’s reply surprised her.

  “Home? No. Too much to do here.”

  “But I thought you told Philip –”

  “Anne, we have to sort out the Dick Blackwood business. And I have other reasons for wanting to be away from the site.”

  Anne waited for Marnie to explain, but she said nothing.

  “Can I help with anything?” Anne asked, hesitantly.

  “If you can solve the problems with the Horselydown project, that would be a good start.”

  “But I thought you’d done that, Marnie … at least as far as our part of the job’s concerned.”

  Marnie stopped and turned to face Anne.

  “Can’t you sense it, Anne? Can’t you see that just below the surface this project is on a knife edge? The atmosphere is still poisoned. That’s why I don’t want
to be here any longer than I have to.”

  “Well, the archaeologists seem happier.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. This job needs all the help it can get. We can’t afford for it to fail.”

  Anne was alarmed. “I thought it was going to be all right from now on. Philip seemed more relaxed about things.”

  “It’s called window dressing, Anne, putting on a brave face, smiling in adversity.”

  “I thought your presentation was really positive, Marnie. They all loved it.”

  Marnie made a sound between a snort and a cough. “I’m the brave face. That’s why Philip wanted me here.”

  “I’m sure they think you’re a very attractive face, Marnie.” Anne bit her lip. “Sorry, I mean –”

  “It’s okay. I know what you mean. And I’m sorry to say, it does help. It shouldn’t, but there it is. The main thing is not to exploit being a woman in a man’s world too often, or it can backfire on you.”

  They reached the entrance to the flats and Marnie used the key card to open the outer door into the lift lobby. On their way up to the fifth floor, Anne asked how Marnie proposed tracing Dick Blackwood. She replied that they would simply act systematically on all the leads they had. The first step was to phone Gerald Parfitt in the hope that he might have some news.

  Anne rang his number as soon as they were in the flat. As it turned out, he did have news, but it was not what they wanted to hear.

  “Yes, I have heard.” His voice was expressionless. “Arabella has been picked up by the Coastguard. They found her abandoned, eight miles out at sea.”

  Anne froze. Try as she might, she could not unscramble her thoughts. Seeing her reaction, Marnie asked what had happened and took the phone from her hand. She could hear Parfitt speaking as she put the receiver to her ear.

  “… someone there with you?” he was saying.

  “Dr Parfitt, my name is Marnie Walker. I’m Anne’s employer, a friend of Donovan and of Dick Blackwood. Would you mind telling me what’s happened?”

  Parfitt repeated his news.

  “Did the Coastguard say anything about Dick?” Marnie asked.

  “Nothing. The boat was spotted drifting under light sail. There’d been a heavy sea and they fear Dick … He was a good sailor, but in those conditions …”

  Marnie asked Parfitt to keep in touch if there were any developments. Disconnecting, she looked at Anne, who was stunned and close to tears.

  “He was so full of life, Marnie … so enthusiastic about his work. It meant so much to him and –”

  Marnie took Anne by the arms. “Listen. I don’t want to sound hard, but we have to go on until we know for sure what’s happened.”

  “But Dr Parfitt said –”

  “He said nothing that changes anything. There’s more we have to do.”

  Anne blinked. “What d’you mean?”

  “I want to see where he lived … where he lives. Can we arrange that?”

  “Er …”

  “Think, Anne. Do you have his girlfriend’s number?”

  Anne checked in her notebook, gathered herself together and made the call. Marnie told her to say nothing about Arabella being found abandoned at sea. They were in luck. When Anne asked if she could go to Dick’s rooms again, Judith agreed at once. It appeared she already had in mind to go there that afternoon after work. She had a part-time job waitressing and was working the lunchtime shift that day. They agreed to meet soon after three.

  *

  The three women stood in Dick’s living room in an awkward silence. Judith did not understand why Marnie had wanted to see the place; Marnie and Anne wondered what had brought Judith back that day. Judith was the first to voice her concerns.

  “I’m not quite sure what your reason is for coming here.” Her tone bordered on the querulous.

  “Good question,” said Marnie. “I’m not entirely sure myself.”

  “I was wondering what’s driving you to try to help him now – if that’s what you had in mind – when so many of his so-called friends have abandoned him at a time when he really needs them.”

  “Judith, we’re more colleagues than friends. I only met Dick last summer and caught up with him again as a result of this project at Tower Bridge. That doesn’t make my concern for him less genuine.”

  Marnie’s voice was calm and gave no hint that she might have taken offence at Judith’s rebuke.

  “Marnie has been helping,” Anne said. “She has a business to run. I work for her, but she’s been giving me time off to go with Donovan to try to trace Dick in Norfolk. Now that Donovan’s out of the country –”

  “What’s happened to him?” Judith looked startled.

  “He has a sick relative in Germany and he’s gone to be with his family. Now Marnie’s getting more involved herself.”

  “I hope you can see we’re all on the same side, Judith,” Marnie said quietly.

  To their surprise, Judith suddenly burst into tears. One moment she was confronting them, petulant and hostile, the next, she was sobbing convulsively. Anne immediately went to comfort her, holding her in her arms. Marnie gestured towards the sofa, where Anne led Judith and sat her down.

  “Is there anywhere we can make a cup of tea round here?” Marnie asked.

  Anne pointed at the door and indicated down the hall. “Kitchen.”

  By the time Marnie came back into the room carrying a tray, Judith was sitting up straight, drying her eyes. The remains of milk in the fridge had gone south, so they sipped hot black tea with sugar.

  “Don’t be in any doubt that we want to help find Dick,” Marnie said.

  Judith blew her nose. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was –”

  “It was understandable. Forget it. You came here today for the same reason that we did. You hoped to find Dick. Am I right?”

  Judith nodded. She was calmer now, but she still looked miserable. “He’s not here,” she said, “and there’s nothing we can do.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.” Marnie cast her eyes round the room. “Has anything changed since your last visit? When was that, by the way?”

  “The day I met Anne and Donovan here.”

  “And is everything the same as it was?”

  “You think Dick might’ve been back?”

  “I’m asking you, Judith.”

  Judith swept the room with her eyes. “I don’t think anything’s changed. It’s all just as it was.”

  Marnie began speaking. “Are you sure about –”

  “No, it isn’t,” Anne interrupted her.

  “What d’you mean?” said Judith.

  Anne stood up and walked across to examine the desk by the window.

  “Things have changed.”

  “What things?” Marnie was rising to her feet.

  “There was tracing paper on top of this map. In fact, no … it wasn’t this map at all. It was another one.”

  Marnie was at her side. Judith stood up to join them.

  “Do you remember, Judith?” Anne laid a hand on the papers on the desk. “There was a map of what Dick called the wetlands. There were arrows marked in pencil on tracing paper … King John’s last journey back to that abbey in Lincolnshire … different ways he might’ve travelled the day he lost the baggage train.”

  Judith peered down. “Yes … you’re right, Anne. I’d forgotten about that.”

  “But you’re certain now, Judith?” Marnie said.

  “Absolutely. The map and tracings were definitely here, unless … I don’t suppose Donovan might’ve picked them up?”

  “Definitely not,” Anne said.

  “And you’re sure you haven’t moved them, Judith?” said Marnie.

  Judith looked horrified. “Me? You’re joking. I’d never even touch Dick’s work papers. They mean everything to him.”

  Marnie and Anne stared at each other. Judith looked at them and read their thoughts.

  “So he has been here,” she said in a half-whisper.
r />   *

  In the car on the way back to the flat, Anne noticed Marnie resting her head against her hand when they stopped at traffic lights.

  “You okay, Marnie?”

  “Bit weary. Slight headache. I’ll take a tablet when we get in … lie down for half an hour.”

  “You didn’t tell Judith about Arabella being found abandoned. Was it because you didn’t want to worry her?”

  “Partly that. Also, I wanted her to keep thinking about Dick in a positive way.”

  “Not sure I follow.”

  “My guess is that if she thought Dick had been lost at sea, she might just retreat into her shell … give up. We need her to stay focused if she’s to be of any help.”

  Back at the flat, Marnie went straight to the bedroom to lie down while Anne checked messages on her mobile. There was just one text.

  OH holding on. D

  Hang in there, Onkel Helmut, she thought. Feeling at a loose end, she rang Ralph at Glebe Farm. He answered on the first ring. His Walker and Co, good afternoon, delivered in an authoritative tone sounded impressive. But his next words, following Anne’s greeting, froze her blood.

  “Oh, Anne. Thank God you’ve phoned.”

  “What is it?” The alarm in her voice registered 6.4 on the Richter scale.

  “I can’t get my computer to work. The bloody thing’s seized solid and I can’t wake it up.”

  “Oh …” Relief flooded over her. “Is that all? You had me worried. I thought –”

  “Is that all?” Ralph repeated. “Anne, I have the text of my new book in it, not to mention drafts of articles, research papers, notes for conference lectures …” He stopped to draw breath.

  “Okay. I get the message. Tell me what happened.”

  “Well I … I was just pressing the keys when everything went off.”

  “What exactly were you doing at the time?”

  “Er … dragging and dropping figures into a table of statistics, I think.”

  “Could you have touched something?”

  “Anything is possible.”