Kennedy 03 - Where Petals Fall

by Shirley Wells

  She hesitated.

  ‘Leave your car here and stay the night,’ he suggested.

  It was tempting. ‘Thanks, but I’d better not.’

  When Max returned, he took his house keys from his pocket and jangled them in the air. ‘Every time I use these, I feel as if I’ve entered the twilight zone. There are dogs everywhere, my sons can twist me round their little fingers and now, to cap it all, my mother-in-law’s gone mad. What the devil was all that about?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Jill said carefully, ‘but I think she wants –’

  ‘Ah!’ Max clapped a hand against his forehead as understanding dawned. ‘Of course. She believes that, without her tagging along playing gooseberry, it’ll be easier for me to convince you to marry me so that we can all live happily ever after.’

  ‘That’s about it, yes,’ Jill agreed, lips twitching.

  ‘The trouble is,’ he said slowly, ‘that without her there to watch the boys, we won’t get time alone.’

  ‘I expect we’ll manage.’ It had been knowing that Kate was going that had made Jill accept the invitation. Now, strangely, she found she wasn’t disappointed in the least.

  That’s if they got to Spain . . .

  ‘Right,’ she said briskly, putting her mind to more important matters. ‘Let me get a pen. We need to think of all we know about Vince Blakely.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Still half asleep, Max reached out to silence the alarm, but it wasn’t the alarm. It was his phone. He managed to focus on the clock and was surprised to see that it read 5.04 a.m. He’d thought it much earlier. He didn’t feel as if he’d been asleep more than five minutes.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Sorry, did I wake you?’

  ‘Of course you woke me, Fletch. It’s the middle of the sodding night.’

  ‘Sorry, guv, but I thought you ought to know. Fire crews were called out to Ralph Atkins’s place just after two o’clock this morning.’

  Max was awake and stumbling out of bed. ‘His house or the office?’

  ‘His house. A neighbour raised the alarm. It’s a bad one, too.’

  ‘How bad?’

  ‘Well, if he was inside, there isn’t going to be much left of him.’

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Max grabbed his jeans from the back of the chair. ‘I’m on my way.’

  Muttering enough expletives to keep the boys in luxury for months, Max dressed, left a note for Harry and Ben, grabbed his car keys and headed for The Laurels.

  As he drove, he phoned Kate. Typically, his mother-in-law was already out of bed and enjoying breakfast.

  ‘Don’t worry, love. I’ll be there for them,’ she told him.

  She always was and, yet again, Max thought how lucky they were to have her.

  At least it was light so it didn’t feel like the middle of the night. It always surprised Max that there was so much traffic about at such an early hour. On a Saturday, too.

  Perhaps the fact that Atkins’s house caught fire less than twenty-four hours after Max had questioned him was nothing more than a coincidence. Did he smoke? Max couldn’t remember seeing any ashtrays or packets of cigarettes about. He drank heavily, though. He could have left something on the cooker perhaps.

  Max thought it unlikely. It was too much of a coincidence and Max didn’t like coincidences. He’d bet his life they were looking at arson.

  When he arrived, Fletch was already there and was talking to a crowd of neighbours who had gathered as close as possible. Fletch spotted him and strode over.

  ‘Well?’ Max demanded. ‘Was he in there?’

  ‘No one can get in yet, guv.’

  Max wasn’t surprised. The house was a blackened mess. Acouple of windows had gone and the roof didn’t look safe.

  ‘Is the fire investigator on his way?’ he asked.

  ‘Ms Kemp is on her way. Yes.’

  Max groaned. He and Sheila Kemp had never seen eye to eye. That she was good at her job, Max didn’t doubt, but she followed the book to the letter. With her in charge, it would be days before they were any the wiser.

  The woman herself arrived in her car and Max wandered over.

  ‘Max,’ she greeted him coolly.

  ‘We’re looking at arson,’ Max informed her, not bothering with the niceties, ‘and I’m in charge of the murder investigation. We need –’

  ‘Chief Inspector,’ she cut him off, ‘I don’t have time to waste on idle speculation. I have a job to do. And as you’re aware, I always approach these situations with an open mind. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get on with that job.’

  She reached into the back of her car for hat and jacket, then headed towards the fire crew.

  ‘Bloody woman,’ Max cursed beneath his breath.

  He stared at what was left of Atkins’s house. It would have had gallon upon gallon of water pumped into it, and every one would have destroyed a bit more evidence.

  Max found Fletch again. ‘Anyone see anything?’

  ‘The chap who phoned the fire service is over there.’ He pointed to an elderly man wearing a thick blue anorak. ‘Apparently, his cat woke him up and when he glanced out of the window, he saw flames coming from the downstairs window. The lady, the one with the baby in her arms, says that Atkins smoked cigars. She serves in the corner shop and he buys ten cigars a week. He was pissed when we saw him, guv, so if he’d been smoking one of those and fallen asleep or something . . .’

  ‘Mm.’ Max wasn’t convinced. ‘We need to know if he went anywhere after we talked to him, if he had any visitors, if he made any phone calls.’

  Max hated arson. Hated it. All evidence was lost before the investigation even started. But that was life, he supposed. The fire fighters had to do all that was necessary to save lives and protect property.

  Fire was too easy for the criminals, though. Murder, burglaries – all were a lot easier to get away with when fire was involved.

  Looking on the bright side, he knew that enough evidence would still exist. Once they’d found the seat of the fire, and if they could find out what sort of accelerant had been used, they would find their man.

  And if they found their man, Max suspected that they would find the killer of Carol Blakely.

  He’d known Atkins had been lying about those videos. So what in hell’s name had he done with them? Or had he kept them for himself? Was he the person responsible for trying to make them think The Undertaker was still alive?

  No, surely not.

  Of course, it was possible that Atkins had started the firewith the careless drop of a still-lit cigar. He could, as Fletch had suggested, have simply fallen asleep. That way, he would have been overcome by smoke long before flames were seen from the lounge window.

  Had someone heard they’d been to see Atkins? Had Atkins told someone? Had that someone decided to silence him for good?

  Looking on the bright side, it was possible that, any minute now, Ralph Atkins would stroll around the corner and see what was left of his home but, somehow, Max doubted it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘He’s well sexy, isn’t he?’

  ‘Oh, well sexy!’ Jill agreed with a surprised laugh.

  She was hunting for a parking space at the Trafford Centre, ready for a gruelling day round the shops. They’d been discussing Max. At least, Nikki had.

  ‘I wouldn’t mind a fortnight in the sun with him myself,’ Nikki added.

  ‘And you young enough to be his daughter,’ Jill tutted with amusement.

  It was hard to equate this young girl with the person who tried her mother’s patience to the limit. Young girl? That was the crux of the problem; she was no longer a trying teenager, she was an adult.

  Jill felt like pointing out that, as far as her mum was concerned, Charlie was ‘well sexy’, too. Later, assuming the day went well, she would venture on to the subject of Louise and Charlie. The last thing she wanted was a day with a moody, angry Nikki.

  Earlier, when Jill had collected Nikki from
her house, Nikki had given her mum a quick kiss, said ‘Behave yourself!’ with a cheeky laugh, and skipped down the path to Jill’s car.

  ‘Jekyll and Hyde,’ Jill had said with a shrug, and Louise had smiled weakly.

  ‘Thanks for this, Jill. You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve longed to have the house to myself for the day.’

  ‘It’s nothing. Enjoy it. And forget housework. Have a day of unbridled passion with Charlie.’

  Louise had laughed at that. ‘I’m too worn out for unbridled passion . . .’

  On the journey to Manchester, Nikki hadn’t stopped talking. Although wary, Jill was enjoying her company. She was also pleased to know that Louise was having a break. No doubt Nikki wouldn’t be so well behaved with her mother there.

  ‘Not that I’d want to go out with a copper,’ she was saying now. ‘Too Goody Two-Shoes for me.’

  The last words Jill would have used to describe Max were Goody Two-Shoes, but she didn’t argue.

  Instead, she wondered if she would actually have those two weeks in the sun with him and the boys. Unless they caught Carol Blakely’s killer, it was unlikely. And if, as Max believed, they had Ralph Atkins’s murderer to find, she might as well forget it now.

  Jill had to agree that the fire at Atkins’s home was highly coincidental. Yet the man had been drunk, and he was a smoker. Perhaps, after all, it had been an accident. She’d know more later and, until then, it was pointless to speculate.

  ‘Come on then,’ she said, switching off the car’s engine. ‘Let’s shop till we drop.’

  It seemed to Jill that every UK resident had had the same idea. The place was heaving, a reminder that she loathed shopping. Nothing could dampen Nikki’s enthusiasm, however. She held evening dresses against her short, stick-thin body and, giggling, asked for Jill’s opinion. She tried on pairs of jeans that all looked the same and discounted every pair. In Debenham’s, she allowed a girl to apply make-up . . .

  ‘Enough,’ Jill said. ‘If I don’t get a coffee within the next five minutes, I’ll drop.’

  ‘We’ll have a pizza, too. I’m starving!’

  ‘Anything. So long as they serve coffee.’

  While Nikki wolfed down a pizza, Jill drank two large coffees. She felt human again.

  ‘So when does the lecture start?’ Nikki asked knowingly.

  ‘From me?’ Jill asked innocently. ‘I don’t plan on delivering a lecture. No, if anyone wants some sense knocking into her, it’s your mum. Sadly, she won’t listen to me.’

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘Yes. Who in their right mind would open their home to a guest who treats the place like a squat? I wouldn’t. Any guests who visit me have to abide by the house rules. My house rules.’

  ‘I’m not exactly a guest,’ Nikki protested.

  ‘Of course you are. You left home at sixteen. Fine, that was your choice. Now, because it’s an easier option, you’ve decided to come back. You’re a guest – pure and simple.’

  The light faded from Nikki’s eyes, and her lips tightened into an angry thin line.

  ‘My rules,’ Jill went on, ‘include no friends round without asking my permission, cleaning up after friends, doing chores about the house in payment for a bed –’

  ‘Chores?’ Nikki groaned. ‘Like what?’

  ‘Anything. Cleaning, dusting, cooking, washing up. Anything that helps.’ Nikki was about to interrupt, but Jill continued anyway. ‘It’s hard work getting a home of your own. It’s something you haven’t managed yet but, believe me, it’s hard work and it’s damned expensive.’

  ‘But I can’t –’

  ‘Let me finish,’ Jill said, and Nikki shrugged in a sulky manner.

  ‘I could have been like you, Nikki. At sixteen, it would have been far easier to let my mum wait on me hand and foot, or take myself off with a gang of mates. Instead, I worked hard at school and then went to university.’ She didn’t miss the heavy sigh from Nikki and Jill had to admit that even she wouldn’t have been surprised to hear the sound of violins. However, she was determined to have her say. ‘It was no fun at all being broke all the time. While my friends were getting jobs and going out to spend their money, I was studying at uni. I was broke. My parents didn’t have any money so it was up to me. I took a job in Burger King – and hated it – but at least it paid for foodand books. And why did I put myself through all that? Because I wanted the good things in life. I wanted a nice home, a good car, and the occasional holiday. I wanted to live by my own rules. I didn’t want to spend time with my mum and dad and live by their rules.’

  ‘In case you’ve forgotten,’ Nikki said sulkily, ‘I didn’t get any qualifications.’

  ‘Then get some,’ Jill retorted. ‘You’re not disabled, mentally or physically. You can get qualifications as easily as the next person.’

  Nikki shrugged, and Jill suspected it was time she held her tongue. She could feel herself getting angry on Louise’s behalf.

  ‘You could at least be more grateful,’ she said, putting on a smile to take the sting from her words. ‘I hear Charlie’s offered to take you both on holiday.’

  ‘Charlie? God, I wouldn’t go to the end of our road with him.’

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’ Jill demanded in exasperation.

  ‘What’s right with him? I hate him. And don’t argue, because you don’t know him.’

  That was true enough, Jill supposed. She’d met him twice, very briefly, so she couldn’t claim to know him. But what she knew, she liked. Or rather, she liked what he did for Louise.

  ‘What’s there to dislike about him?’

  Nikki was silent for long moments. ‘I want to go in HMV,’ she said at last.

  So that was it. Conversation over. As the mood had changed dramatically, Jill decided to give in gracefully.

  ‘Come on then.’ She grabbed her bag and they hit the shops once more.

  Nikki soon spent the money Louise had given her, and even Jill was spending a lot more than she’d planned. As well as a couple of sundresses, she bought The Kaiser Chief’s latest CD for Harry and a DVD for Ben, and she bought a pair of shorts and four strappy T-shirts for herself.

  They were heading back to the car when Nikki spotted the ankle bracelet.

  ‘I wish I’d seen that earlier,’ she grumbled. ‘It’s gorgeous.’

  Pretty and inexpensive, the bracelet was more feminine than Nikki’s usual choice in jewellery.

  ‘It would suit you,’ Jill murmured.

  Nikki held up her shopping bags. ‘Yeah, but I’m skint, remember?’

  Nikki was a walking contradiction. She wore earrings, several heavy chains around her neck, and dozens of bracelets. Yet her fingers were bare except for a well-worn plain gold band on her right hand. It had belonged to her grandmother. Jill knew how close the two had been, and she knew it was Nikki’s most treasured possession. To Jill, that ring signified hope. Hope that, deep down inside, a loving, kind, generous young woman still existed.

  ‘I’m not,’ Jill replied. ‘Thank God for qualifications, eh?’ She laughed at Nikki’s expression. ‘Come on. My treat.’

  Five minutes later, the purchase was made.

  ‘Thanks, Jill. You shouldn’t have – you really shouldn’t – but, well, thanks.’ Amazingly, there was a shimmering of moisture in Nikki’s eyes.

  ‘No need for thanks. I’ve had a lovely day – tiring, but lovely – so I should be thanking you.’ She hesitated for a brief moment, but decided to say her piece anyway. ‘When you wear it, remember the fun we’ve had today. And give your mum a break, eh?’

  Nikki dropped her bags, and hugged her. ‘I’ll try. It’s just that –’ She broke off, paused and then went on, ‘I’ll never accept that man in our lives. Never!’

  Jill was surprised at the vehemence in her voice. True, Nikki was a drama queen, but she meant this. She would never accept Charlie.

  ‘If it was anyone else, it would be fine. But not him.’ A tear oozed on to her cheek and was quickly brushed away. />
  ‘Mum’s OK, I suppose. And it’s up to her to see who she wants. And I know you’re right; I shouldn’t treat her house like I do.’

  On that optimistic note, they left the shops behind and headed back to the peace of Kelton Bridge.

  It was just after six thirty when Jill got back to her cottage, and Max was standing outside, leaning against his car.

  ‘I was about to phone you to see what time you’d be back,’ he told her. ‘Good day?’

  ‘Better than I dared hope.’ She lifted her shopping bags from the back seat and handed them to him. ‘We had fun.’

  ‘Nikki OK then?’

  ‘Not bad,’ she said, smiling ruefully. ‘She’s even promised to try and behave nicely for Louise.’

  ‘God, how much did that cost you?’

  ‘An ankle bracelet.’ Laughing, Jill let them into her cottage. ‘Seriously, it was good.’

  She went straight to the coffee machine. Her caffeine levels were dangerously low.

  ‘I know she thrives on melodrama,’ she went on thoughtfully, ‘and I know she’s just a kid really, but she said today that she would never accept Charlie in their lives. I believed her. She really can’t take to him for some reason.’

  ‘Perhaps she’s just jealous, Jill. I expect she came back from London expecting the fatted calf.’

  ‘She got the fatted calf,’ Jill reminded him. ‘Charlie wasn’t on the scene then. But perhaps you’re right. Perhaps it’s nothing more than jealousy. Oh, and she thinks you’re well sexy,’ she added, getting cups from cupboard.

  ‘Well sexy, eh?’

  ‘Yep, and she said she’d quite fancy a couple of weeks in the sun with you.’

  ‘Twenty-one-year-olds. Tsk! They can’t keep their hands off me.’

  ‘I expect they’re after your pension, Max.’

  Jill was aware of him leaning against her cooker, hand in his jeans pockets. As well as pale blue jeans, he was wearing a short-sleeved shirt in the same colour. Well sexy just about summed him up, she thought reluctantly, althoughshe’d been surprised to hear that from one so young. Tall and dark he was; handsome he was not.

  ‘Did Louise have a good day with Charlie?’ he asked.