Weekend in Weighton Final Amazon version 12-12-12

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Weekend in Weighton Final Amazon version 12-12-12 Page 7

by Weekend in Weighton (mobi)


  We sat in the booth and she studied me through the glow of the tea-light, her eyes assessing my swollen features. Without showing any sympathy, she tilted her glass at my purple-hued lumps and bumps.

  ‘How does this unpleasant tale begin?’

  I shrugged. ‘It’s like one of those bad dreams. You never remember how it starts. But the ending, well, that’s a different matter.’

  ‘Are you going to share?’

  ‘Can you keep a secret?’

  I took a sip of my wine. A Chilean merlot, if I wasn’t mistaken. That’s the first thing they taught me on the wine course: read the label.

  ‘Solicitors are like doctors,’ she said quietly. ‘We have an oath of confidentiality to our clients.’ She held up a hand before I could say anything. ‘Even prospective clients.’

  ‘No offence, but for ninety pounds an hour I’d expect the Attorney General.’

  She smiled and swirled the wine in her glass. ‘Consider it pro bono.’

  ‘I thought you’d be more pro Edge.’

  ‘Your one-liners aren’t getting any better, Ed. And you used to be so rock’n’roll.’ She gave up on the sarcastic smile and inclined her glass at my bruises again. ‘Anyway, I’m more interested in your story.’

  I looked over at the bar and surveyed the revellers. Apart from me, everyone seemed to belong. At least that meant no spooks were watching us.

  I turned my gaze back to Kate. ‘Assertive. I like that in a counsel.’

  ‘Glad that’s settled. Now, confide in your legal team.’ She looked at me and drew a face circle in the air. ‘I take it this has to do with your case?’

  I clapped my hands. ‘Earning the big bucks right there.’

  ‘Stop stalling, Ed. Tell me what’s happening?’

  ‘You first. What have you heard?’

  ‘Not much more than the official line.’ She leaned forward, like a co-conspirator. ‘Well-to-do widow murdered in her own home. Fresh-faced private investigator – um, that’s you – finds the body. Police baffled, but likely to charge the new guy anyway.’ She edged even closer and lowered her voice. ‘Unofficially, the rumour is she was being blackmailed – some affair with a married guy. A few well-known names being thrown around. It explains why she hired an investigator. That’s you again.’ She sat back and ran a fingertip around the rim of her glass. ‘How does it all match up?’

  I smiled. ‘Not bad for a Northside Comp girl.’

  ‘So, Mister E G, what is occurring?’

  ‘We’re back to that again.’ I tried to resist a lurid smile. ‘And I thought you just wanted my body?’

  ‘In your present state, even science would turn that down.’

  She picked up the bottle of wine by the bottom and tipped a measure into my glass, carefully twisting the neck at the end of the pour to avoid any spillage. Nice technique. I guessed that, like me, she had a barkeep stint on her CV.

  ‘Who was she seeing, Ed?’

  Right at that moment I imagined the whole bar stopped, took a breath, and inclined an ear in our direction. In reality, the hubbub was unbroken.

  I took a super-size sip of wine. Not recommended on the wine course, but needs must.

  ‘Clegg,’ I said finally.

  ‘As in Mayor Clegg?’

  I nodded slowly without blinking, holding her stare. There was a small “oh” look on her face, but any surprise was otherwise restrained.

  ‘His was one of the names mentioned,’ she said, ‘but only to ramp up the scandal quotient. No one really thought it could be him.’

  I rolled back my palms. ‘Surprise!’

  ‘Is Clegg responsible for the beating?’ she asked, half-seriously. ‘That would be a bigger surprise. Or was it the police? Or did the police just hold you down while Clegg got some good shots away?’

  ‘I’m glad you’re finding this so entertaining, but actually neither.’

  ‘We have a third man?’

  ‘We do.’

  ‘I get a clue?’

  ‘If I said he’s like the illegitimate, unwanted son of The Sopranos and The West Wing …’

  There was a pause as she did the machinations, followed by the light bulb look.

  ‘Jimmy Cartwright?’ She blinked at me disbelievingly.

  I nodded.

  Kate let out a long breath. Then she drained her glass.

  ‘Christ, Ed. Talk about running with the foxes and hunting with the hounds.’ She reached over and gently squeezed my hand. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

  ‘I’m still here. That’s the main thing, hey.’

  ‘What has he got to do with any of this?’

  ‘I don’t know. But whatever it is, he doesn’t seem keen on me finding out.’

  ‘You think Cartwright was behind the blackmail?’

  ‘Unlikely. Not really his style. And it wouldn’t explain the murder.’

  ‘Some kind of love triangle?’

  ‘Possible. But again, I can’t see how it leads to murder.’

  She did a rat-a-tat on the table and then narrowed her eyes. ‘You’re the so-called private detective – who’d you think was behind the blackmail? Who do you think killed her? Are they even connected?’

  ‘Kate, you’re the so-called junior solicitor. You think I’ve not already had two days of questions from everyone, even my mum, and maybe I want to talk about something else.’

  She fired off a low-key tut. ‘It’s all about you. Typical.’

  ‘Thought we had some solicitor-client action going on here?’

  ‘Well, if you want my advice–’

  I interrupted. ‘Let me guess – stay out of it.’

  She smiled and crossed her legs.

  I still couldn’t get over those legs.

  ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, Ed, but do you think your involvement in this was pre-ordained?’

  ‘By God, you mean?’

  She pulled an unhappy face. ‘I mean, what if you were only hired as part of some nefarious plot all along?’

  ‘It’s crossed my mind. Finding the body was a set-up fo’sho. That calls everything else into question. But it would mean Porson being in on it from the start.’

  ‘Not necessarily. Someone else could have been pulling the strings. Or perhaps she was part of it to start with before something went wrong?’

  I nodded. ‘It all keeps coming back to the why thing.’

  The bar was beginning to quieten down, but I kept up my regular periscope routine. Still no signs of any undesirable punters. I finished the wine in my glass and gave her a long stare.

  ‘There is something else.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The day I found her she’d asked me to meet her at the house. The autopsy proved by the time the call was made she’d already been dead for hours’

  It shocked her. ‘That is spooky.’

  ‘Yeah, real Scooby Doo stuff.’

  ‘Did she call you from her mobile?’

  ‘No, home phone.’

  A beam broke out across her face. ‘The police will already have got hold of her phone records and I bet they’ve got yours.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Well, assuming the calls match, they’ll be able to ascertain your location when you received the one from her.’

  I thought about what she’d said but shook my head. ‘Given the time of death, it doesn’t help much. And it would only prove where my phone was, not me.’

  ‘It’s a start. At the very least the police would have to prove an accomplice. Even you can’t be in two places at once.’ She nodded to herself thoughtfully and bit her lip. ‘Counsel would say you have a strong defence.’

  ‘The way Weighton police operate I’ll need a bloody Houdini defence.’

  ‘I know you’re not asking, but if you seriously want my advice, I’d tell you to leave town and keep your head down. Stay away as long as you can. Go somewhere nice.’

  ‘You coming with?’

  She laughed. ‘I’ll visit.’

&n
bsp; ‘Sure, you will!’

  ‘When have I ever let you down?’

  It was my turn to laugh. Not that I should have found it funny.

  ‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘I need to stay and liaise with the police on your behalf. There are a few moves I can make.’

  ‘That I’d pay ninety for.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really.’ I risked a proper look at her. ‘So what are you doing later?’

  ‘Writing up case notes. You?’

  ‘Packing, according to my solicitor.’

  She pushed her empty glass to the middle of the table. ‘If you mean it, I’m glad.’

  ‘I’m not.’ I studied those mesmerising tones in her hair. ‘Wish we’d met again in different circumstances.’

  She smiled. ‘Yeah. We could have looked for shooting stars instead.’

  I motioned at the sun rays still slanting through the window. ‘I find it’s best picking ‘em out of a dark background.’

  Kate reached over and traced her fingers down my cheek. ‘You should get your injuries looked at.’ Her fingertip rested on my now misaligned nose. ‘Come on. I’ll take you to A&E.’

  ‘Is that like a proper date?’

  ~

  The queue at Weighton A&E was out of the door and almost out of town. I wasn’t considered a priority, so it looked like being a long wait. After an hour or so, Kate spotted a Charge Nurse she knew. It was five star service all the way after that. Luckily, the x-rays showed no broken bones. Only a few stitches and some t.l.c. were required.

  By ten we were done and heading back to Kate’s car. We didn’t talk much while we were walking, and we hadn’t talked much about much in the hospital either. Just some innocuous chat and a bit of low-level catch-up. It was no different from when we first used to be together. We could either riff like wildfire or just exchange looks for long periods without saying anything. Either way, we both knew it worked.

  We took a shortcut through Loxley Park. Feeling a little woozy after the day’s excitement, blood loss, and subsequent stitching, I sat down next to a towering beech tree. Kate joined me. We were partly back to back and partly leaning against the tree. I’d like to tell you it was the same tree we’d carved our names on all those years ago, but truth to tell I’d never seen the thing before. It was convenient rather than romantic. But you take your moments when they arise. Plain as.

  ‘How you feeling?’ she asked.

  ‘Not great. Hospitals have that effect.’

  ‘You don’t think causality is the other way around?’

  I took a deep breath, even though my ribs ached. ‘You may have an interesting take on that.’

  Unexpectedly, she grabbed my hand and held it. ‘You haven’t asked, but you must want to know?’

  I wasn’t sure I did. ‘Know?’

  ‘Why I never came back to school?’

  ‘I expect you had your reasons.’

  ‘You must have wondered?’

  I rolled my head from side to side. ‘Only most days.’

  She gripped my hand more tightly. ‘Did you try to find out?’

  The memories glided back as I thought about her question. ‘Yeah, I asked around. None of your mates knew anything. The Headmaster kept it together, too, even with the water boarding.’

  She turned away and smiled. ‘I don’t think he knew anyway.’

  ‘No wonder he held out so long. Wish I’d let up sooner.’

  She nudged my shoulder with her upper arm. ‘Is it just your stubborn male pride or is it too long ago to matter?’

  Twist or stick? I decided to fold. ‘Okay, Kate, why don’t you tell me.’

  She didn’t speak for a while. She picked up a twig and fiddled with it, her head down.

  ‘I think the drum roll just ended,’ I informed her, breaking the silence.

  She still didn’t look up, but she began to speak, almost in a whisper. ‘Mum discovered that Dad was cheating on her – with her oldest friend. I’m not sure how she found out.’

  She started to doodle in the dry soil with her twig. It was obviously an abstract piece but it had Banksy beat.

  Kate resumed her tale. ‘She’d known for a while apparently, but she never let on. She waited until the summer holidays, when she knew Dad would be working away. She packed up as much of our stuff as she could in suitcases, and we left. She rented a tiny terraced house near Bolton and moved us in there. I don’t think she told anyone apart from her parents. She didn’t want him to find us. She made us promise not to contact him or anyone from Weighton.’ Her shoulders sagged. ‘There you have it.’

  I let out a long, low whistle. ‘That’s what you call instant closure, right there.’ I squeezed her hand back. ‘Did your Dad find you?’

  ‘We kept moving to different locations. Mum kept changing jobs. We changed schools most terms. But he found us eventually, and Mum had to give him access. It meant she got some maintenance money, though, and we settled in one place.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘We made a life as best we could. Tried to be normal.’ She paused. ‘There was one good thing.’

  ‘Lower council tax?’

  She lifted her head and laughed. ‘Well, yes, that. But I meant it made me study. I didn’t have close friends or clubs, so I fixed my mind on getting good marks. It helped me cope with the upheaval. Anyway, my exams went okay. Good enough to get a place at Leeds University to study law. After my degree I went to Chester Law College to do my bar exams. I knew I wanted to be a solicitor by then, and I managed to get articles with Moss & Clarke.’

  ‘And you came back to Weighton?’

  She shrugged. ‘I applied to lots of firms in lots of places. I ended up here. Maybe fate, maybe unfinished business.’

  ‘How long you been back?’

  ‘It’s been over two years.’

  ‘You weren’t in a rush to look me up, then?’

  ‘No need. I knew I’d bump into you at some point. Wouldn’t do to be too obvious.’ She was still scribbling her “Mappa Mundi”. ‘I checked out your Facebook page,’ she went on. ‘Quite a following.’ Her eyes concentrated on me. ‘Did you look for mine?’

  ‘Once. Another no-show.’

  ‘Sorry. I never saw the point.’

  ‘I’m coming to the same conclusion.’ I tried to keep a light tone as I changed topics. ‘You seeing anyone?’

  She gave a deliberate nod. ‘A guy at my firm. He’s just made partner.’ There was a hair twirl. ‘You?’

  ‘Kind of. It changes by the hour. Not the girlfriend, the relationship.’

  She smiled. ‘I see.’

  I stood up slowly, searching for my balance, using the tree trunk for support. ‘We better go. Those case notes won’t write themselves.’ I motioned at her hieroglyphics in the dirt. ‘Unless you’ve already made a start.’

  She held out her hand and I pulled her up.

  ~

  We got back to the multi-storey car park where she’d left her car. There, looking lonesome in its bay, was a shiny, red Mini. Nice wheels.

  ‘I’ll give you a lift,’ she said.

  ‘No thanks. I best walk. I could do with the air.’

  Kate gave a slow nod and then clicked her key fob. After opening the door, she hesitated before getting in. A warm air-current blew over us. She turned to look at me, hair-arranging as she did.

  ‘I take it you’re not leaving town, Ed?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘What will you do?’

  I looked at her, my head a little askew, the stitches making it awkward to show an expression. ‘I’ve got a few leads to run down.’

  ‘You never mentioned any earlier.’

  ‘I don’t tell you everything, you know.’

  There was a pause as she weighed up her reply. ‘Just as well I like enigmatic men.’

  ‘Rich, enigmatic men?’

  She shook her head. ‘Colourful will do.’

  ‘I’ll work on it.’

  Kate took a ste
p towards me and rested her hand on my arm. ‘Be careful, hey?’

  ‘I will. I’m planning a Jimmy-free day.’

  ‘What if he catches up with you?’

  ‘I take them as they come.’ I gave her a wide smile, but it really hurt. In return, she gave me a look I’d never seen before. There was something different about her eyes. Something softer. What can I tell you? I was getting to her.

  ‘Ed,’ she said, ‘just remember– ’

  ‘Cherry blossoms in the market square?’

  ‘No. Diane, the Charge Nurse, she isn’t on tomorrow. And A&E is crazy-busy on a Saturday.’

  ‘Thanks for the tip. I’ll phone ahead.’

  Kate opened her handbag and fished inside. She passed me her “Moss & Clarke” embossed card. ‘Here’s my direct line.’

  ‘We going steady now?’

  ‘In case you need bail.’

  ‘Excellent.’

  She patted my arm gently and stepped away. ‘Seriously. If there’s anything I can do?’

  I swept an admiring look over her Mini. ‘I could use some hot wheels.’

  ‘Get lost.’

  As I walked home I tried to think through my plan for the next day. I kept coming to the same conclusion: there was a lot to do and not enough time to do it. Playing bus tag all day wasn’t going to help. I needed some fast wheels, fast.

  I thought about my Santa Cruz Superlight. It would come into its own on the off-road switch-backs and disused rail tracks that crisscrossed town. And – major bonus – it wouldn’t get snarled up in Weighton’s rush hour. But its outright speed would let me down, and I wasn’t exactly in the best shape for a full day of pedal pushing.

  Then the cavalry-thought arrived: right on time.

  Diffy had a scooter. And Diffy’s arm was broken, not in one, but two places. Diffy owed me big time.

  I hit the Diffy speed-dial on my phone. He was listed under “Q” for Quiz Captain.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Saturday – 08:00

  I rose early on Saturday morning and got out before Mum stirred. That turned out to be a good move. I looked like a plane crash in the mirror. Not something she would have missed over the Rice Krispies. I didn’t make the mistake of gawking at myself for long, either. A glance told me the bruising was still in full bloom. A blink told me they went deep, too. Dog-leg stitches completed the authentic zombie look. If Mum had seen me, she would have freaked.

 

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