Death in July

by Michael Joseph

  Benjamin shook his head with conviction.

  'He used to laugh at them saying he had seen far scarier things in his time. I presumed he was referring to the war.'

  'What about when he went out the house? Was there ever any trouble then?'

  A frown appeared on Benjamin's face.

  'The only time he went out was to go down the club. He never mentioned any altercations. I used to wonder, though. My father did have a short fuse.'

  Sam's ears pricked up at this.

  'Tell me about your father's temper.'

  Benjamin gave Sam a curious look.

  'I've been asking around,' explained Sam. 'Somebody else mentioned it.'

  Benjamin's shoulders dropped.

  'My father was unpredictable,' he sighed. 'Most of the time he was fine, but he could snap for no reason. He would go into a rage, shouting and screaming over the most trivial of things.'

  'Did he drink much?'

  Benjamin looked at Sam blankly.

  'I don't under-'

  'Alcohol, Benjamin. Was he a big drinker?'

  Benjamin shook his head vehemently.

  'No. He didn't drink a great deal.'

  Sam chewed on his lip.

  'Was he violent?'

  Benjamin's voice dropped.

  'No, not with us, although I do remember him coming home with bruised eyes and cut lips after nights out. His temper did affect my mother's nerves. She was always on edge. My brother left home when he was sixteen because he couldn't stand it anymore.'

  'And how did you deal with it?'

  'I used to keep out of his way.'

  Sam considered everything he had heard today about Geoffrey Compton.

  A strong, proud man, prone to temper.

  A man unlikely to have taken his own life.

  An intriguing combination.

  ***

  Sam looked around the bedroom and sighed. He had found nothing suspicious in the cottage. No secret diaries declaring Geoffrey's unhappiness with life. No hidden letters from enemies swearing revenge. Nothing at all to indicate a troubled man considering suicide. Sam trotted back down the stairs no nearer to providing Benjamin with a satisfactory answer.

  Sam found him sat in the front living-room holding a small chest on his lap.

  'I haven't seen these for years,' Benjamin explained to him, taking a bundle of photos out of the chest. 'My father must have kept them hidden away. I had forgotten they even existed.'

  Benjamin flicked through the photos. Sam watched him smile wistfully. The photos were faded and wearing at the edges, black and white pictures of a couple and two young children. Sam guessed they were from the nineteen fifties or sixties. He raised his eyebrows at Benjamin, who nodded.

  'My mother and father, with myself and my brother.'

  The boys were the spitting image of Geoffrey. While their mother was a petite woman with a kind face, their father was tall and broad-shouldered, with sharp eyes and a prominent jaw. Sam couldn't miss the one constant in each picture. While his wife and children smiled happily for every shot, Geoffrey Compton wore a permanent scowl. Sam didn't mention it to Benjamin. The final picture was completely different. An even older photo, featuring five men in army uniforms. They were sitting on a British tank, dazzled by bright sunshine.

  'What about that one?' asked Sam.

  Benjamin stared at it, frowning.

  'I've never seen it before,' he replied, shaking his head. 'Look, that's my father there, the one in the middle.'

  Sam recognised Geoffrey from the other photos. In this picture, he was grinning along with the other men.

  Benjamin continued to gaze at his new-found piece of family history.

  'This is the first picture I've ever seen of him from his army days.'

  'Do you know anything at all about that time of his life?' asked Sam.

  Benjamin shook his head.

  'Only that he was de-mobbed at the end of the war, came back to Newgate and went straight down the mine. I don't even know which unit he served with or where he was posted.'

  Sam decided to leave Benjamin to his new discovery, telling him he would ring later. He wanted to give him time to reflect after this morning. Sam felt he would need it.

  Chapter 5

  Sam ran the deliveries for Moira that afternoon. The small van was like a portable furnace, soaking up the rays of fierce sunshine. Sam hopped in and out of the vehicle, dropping flowers off all over Newgate. The town centre was swarming with tourists, the beach was packed with holiday-makers basking in the glorious weather, and on the outskirts of town, the roads into Newgate were heavy with traffic. It was the middle of the holiday season. The busiest time of the year for many in Newgate.

  After finishing the deliveries, Sam left the van outside the flower shop and headed upstairs to the sanctuary of his shaded flat. He removed his sticky clothes and showered under a barrage of cool water. Feeling refreshed, he put on a clean shirt and pair of jeans, made himself a meal, then rang Benjamin.

  No answer.

  Sam tried again on his way out, but once more the call was diverted to answer machine. Sam shrugged and set off for the Barton. He would try again later.

  Outside the front of the pub, customers had spilled onto the footpath with their drinks. Archie had wisely wedged all the entrance doors wide open to allow in any breeze. Walking through the entrance, Sam could see the beer garden at the rear was already full. It was going to be another busy shift.

  Sam found Archie vigorously cleaning the floor around the fruit machine. Spotting Sam approach, the landlord leaned on his mop and smiled ruefully.

  'They're already drinking like it's going out of fashion,' he sighed. 'The heat's sending them loopy. I'm spending half my time cleaning up spilled drinks and broken glasses.'

  'I'd better get to it then,' laughed Sam.

  'Hold on, Sam! What was all that about yesterday? The questions?'

  Sam had deemed Archie a useful man to keep in the loop about this case. He had contacts, kept his ear to the ground and knew when to keep his mouth shut. Taking him to one side, Sam told him about Geoffrey Compton's death, Benjamin's misgivings about the verdict, and Sam's futile attempts so far to disprove the evidence.

  Archie nodded thoughtfully.

  'I can understand him not wanting to accept it-'

  Suddenly, the sound of glass shattering filled the air. The two men rolled their eyes in identical fashion. They would have to talk later.

  ***

  The shift was as frenetic as Sam had anticipated. An endless night of lengthy queues, impatient customers and spilled drinks. Sam took it all in his stride. He tried Benjamin again during his break, but there was still no answer. Onwards the night rolled. As the alcohol took its inevitable affect on the patrons, tempers began to flare in the pub, forcing the doormen to step in more frequently to diffuse trouble.

  As closing time approached, Sam found himself struggling to concentrate on what he was doing. He was making mistakes, giving out wrong change, getting orders mixed up. He knew what was up. His mind was elsewhere, replaying his meetings with Benjamin, running through possible reasons for Geoffrey's suicide. Sam realised he needed to make a decision. He was going to talk to Archie.

  Suddenly, a roar went up in front of the bar. Another altercation had erupted. People were pushing each other aggressively, gearing up for a fistfight. Innocent by-standers were getting knocked about in the melee. Sam watched the head doorman work his way towards the fracas, talking into his radio while on the move. Suddenly, several of his burly colleagues appeared, and the trouble-makers were swiftly ejected. As calm was restored, Sam noticed a woman leaning on the bar with her head in her hands.

  'Are you okay?' he asked.

  She looked up at him. A red lump was rising next to her eye. Her face looked ashen.

  'I just got an elbow in my face,' she said, smiling weakly. 'It's nothing-'

  Suddenly, her eyes began to roll.

  Sam reached across and caugh
t her before she fell.

  ***

  'Feeling any better?'

  The woman nodded slowly. She was sitting on the bottom step of the stairs holding a bag of ice to her eye. Her blonde hair was pushed back off her face, and her large, brown eyes were smudged with make-up. Sam could see some colour had returned to her cheeks.

  'I still think we should call an ambulance and get you checked out.'

  The woman smiled at him.

  'Thanks, but it's only a bump.'

  Sam could hear Archie bidding goodnight to the final customers, followed by the heavy sound of bolts sliding into place. Seconds later, Archie popped his head into the hall.

  'How's the patient?' he smiled.

  'She's a tough one,' said Sam. 'Won't go to hospital.'

  Archie looked down at the woman.

  'What's the damage?'

  She removed the ice pack from her eye. Archie pulled a face.

  'Ouch! You're going to have a lovely bruise in the morning. Where do you live, and we'll call a taxi for you.'

  'I don't live around here. I only came in the pub to get directions to my aunt's house.'

  'Where does she live?'

  'Southland Road. It's nearby, apparently.'

  Archie and Sam looked at each other.

  'Well, that's handy,' said Archie, 'because that's where Sam here lives.'

  ***

  'I need a few days off.'

  'When?'

  'This week.'

  Archie didn't look surprised.

  'Okay,' he replied.

  'Bloody hell!' laughed Sam. 'That was easy.'

  Archie shrugged.

  'Sam, I know how badly you want to get the investigation business off the ground, and I've got enough people here begging for extra hours. Covering you won't be a problem. Anyway, if this case leads to another...'

  Both men nodded sagely.

  'So, where's the young lady gone?'

  'She's outside,' said Sam. 'Ringing her aunt.'

  'Okay. Make sure she gets back safely.'

  ***

  Alice Brown asked if they could walk back to Southland Road as she wanted the fresh air. That was fine by Sam. He usually walked back home after a late shift. He enjoyed the ten-minute stroll along the deserted beachfront at this hour.

  A soft breeze kicked up as they began walking. Alice pulled her jacket tight around her shoulders and crossed her arms.

  'Let's walk on the sand,' she said suddenly, changing direction to cross the road. Sam followed suit, tracking her onto the beach, watching as she picked up pebbles and launched them into the breaking sea. Sam had always been fascinated by the sound of waves crashing onto the beach at night-time. It struck him as primal yet comforting against the backdrop of dark silence. He thrust his hands into his pockets and stared up at the black sky, taking in the glittering stars, remembering those he had loved.

  Those he had lost.

  A sharp pang of sorrow struck briefly at his chest.

  Suddenly, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller display.

  'Benjamin?'

  'Sorry to ring you so late, Sam. I've been helping my brother settle in, and then there was some bother at my father's cottage.'

  'What sort of bother?'

  As Sam listened, he noticed Alice watching him, an inquisitive look on her face.

  'A neighbour thought he heard someone lurking in the back garden,' said Benjamin urgently. 'I've been over there tonight with the police.'

  'Did they find anything?'

  'No, they didn't.'

  'Okay, I'll meet up with you there in the morning.'

  Benjamin sounded disappointed.

  'In the morning?' he huffed. 'But this could be the breakthrough we're looking for.'

  Sam sighed. He had to admire the man's tenacity.

  'Benjamin, it's pitch black. We won't be able to see a thing. Now, go and get some rest. We'll take a look tomorrow.'

  ***

  'Right. Here we are, Alice. Southland Road.'

  Sam and Alice stood in front of the row of shops. There were a dozen altogether, each with a flat overhead.

  'Which one's your aunt's?'

  Alice looked around her, slightly anxious all of a sudden. Then she broke into a broad smile. A van was approaching. It slowed down and pulled over next to them. Sam recognised the vehicle immediately. He had been sat in it all afternoon. The driver's window rolled down and Moira Kennedy beamed through the open window.

  'Hi, Sam. I see you've already met my niece.'

  Chapter 6

  The following morning brought a change in the weather. The temperature was noticeably cooler, while dark, ominous clouds filled the sky. Sam left the flat at nine. Benjamin had been keen to meet early.

  Sam noticed the flower shop wasn't open yet. Nor was there any sign of Moira. He presumed she was catching up with her niece. It turned out Alice's arrival in Newgate yesterday had been both spur-of-the-moment and unannounced. Not that such details had bothered Moira. She was overjoyed at seeing her niece again after so long, insisting Alice stay with her at her apartment in town for as long as she needed. Sam saw the resemblance in the two women once they were side by side. The same twinkling eyes and mischievous laugh. The same free spirit.

  Sam pulled up behind Benjamin's Volvo once again. The front door of the cottage was shut this time. Knocking on it, he got no answer. He rapped harder. Still no reply. Yet Sam could hear voices.

  The back garden.

  Sam went around the side of the cottage. A six foot fence protected the garden from prying eyes.

  'Hello?' he called out.

  He heard someone on the other side struggle with the bolt on the gate. Moments later, it swung open. Benjamin welcomed Sam with a rueful smile.

  'It hasn't been used in a long time,' he remarked, giving the gate an accusatory glance.

  Sam entered the garden to see Benjamin had visitors. Geoffrey's next-door neighbour, John Carr, raised his eyebrows at Sam's presence. Sam acknowledged him with a brief smile. Alongside John was an older man with grey hair and bushy eyebrows. Tall and upright, Sam couldn't miss the family likeness.

  'Sam, I'd like you to meet my brother, Arnold.'

  Arnold had the same broad shoulders and enormous hands as his brother, but his smile was easier and his eyes sparkled with humour. He took Sam's hand in a vice-like grip and pumped it with enthusiasm.

  'Pleased to meet you, Sam,' he said, a highland twang prevalent in his voice. 'Benny tells me you're a good friend of his.'

  Sam managed to suppress a smile. Benny? Good friend?

  'That's right,' replied Sam, looking over in Benjamin's direction. 'A very good friend.'

  Benjamin ignored Sam's pointed stare.

  'And this is John Carr from next-'

  'We've met,' said Sam. 'How are you, John?'

  John smiled thinly.

  'Hello, Sam. You've heard about last night?'

  'Benjamin told me the gist of it,' nodded Sam. 'What happened?'

  In his quiet voice, John relayed how he had heard a noise coming from the rear of his house around ten last night. Initially, he thought the sound was from his own garden, but when he looked out his window, he couldn't see anyone. Then he heard the noise again and realised it was coming from Geoffrey's garden. He dashed downstairs and into his back garden to investigate further. That was when he collided with his metal dustbin.

  'You did what?' asked Sam.

  John blushed heavily.

  'I was running...it was dark.'

  Sam looked over at Benjamin and Arnold. Both men were wincing. He turned back to John.

  'I presume that scared them off.'

  John nodded, looking pensive. Sam couldn't decide if it was embarrassment or uncertainty.

  'I heard someone scramble over the fence and run off down the street. By the time I got out the front, they had disappeared.'

  'He rang the police right away...then me,' Benjamin added. 'I came straight over.'

  'Wh
at did the police say?' asked Sam.

  Benjamin frowned.

  'They won't comment until they've looked again in daylight. They're coming back this morning.'

  Arnold snorted.

  'Benny, it's probably just those kids you mentioned.'

  Unsurprisingly, his brother begged to differ.

  'Why would kids bother with an empty house in the middle of the night? No, this makes me even more certain there's something-'

  Arnold threw his head back and laughed.

  'Don't start that again!' he cried. 'I've had to listen to this non-stop since I arrived in Newgate yesterday. Conspiracy theories over our father's death. It's like JFK all over again!'

  Benjamin gave his brother an icy stare.

  'I am aware you have no interest in how our father died, Arnold,' he fumed. 'I know you just want to get the funeral over with so you can return home.'

  'Can you blame me?' said Arnold, raising his voice. Sam noticed his accent getting stronger as his voice got louder. 'I'm only here because you asked me to come! I couldn't care less how the old man died! I'm not going to be a hypocrite-'

  'I am not asking you to be a hypocrite, Arnold. I am only asking that you hear me out.'

  'Benny, why can't you just accept that the bloke topped himself? Why can't you-'

  Sam coughed discreetly. He had heard enough. Neither brother was going to be proud of this spat once they calmed down. They both looked at him sheepishly.

  'Okay, gents,' he said. 'I hate to break up the family reunion, but you've got guests, remember.'

  Sam watched them nod reluctantly, two brothers struggling to understand each other's emotions. Two completely different characters. One reserved, stiff, formal. The other outgoing, relaxed, flamboyant. Both carrying the same weighty history on their shoulders.

  'I'd better get back,' chipped in John. He looked uncomfortable, clearly wishing he had made a move a few minutes earlier.

  'I'll walk round with you,' said Sam. 'I've got to get something from my car.'

  Sam had no reason to go to his car. He just wanted to give Benjamin and Arnold some space. He also wanted a quiet word with John.