Dying to Know (A Detective Inspector Berenice Killick Mystery)

by Alison Joseph

  ‘Of course you can,’ she said.

  ‘You mean, a black man joining the Job, got to be more careful than a white man?’

  She met his eyes. ‘I’d say so, yes.’

  ‘So what made you sign up?’

  ‘It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do,’ she said.

  ‘No regrets?’ He smiled at her.

  ‘Not so far,’ she replied. ‘Shall we get to work?’

  ‘Sure thing, Ma’am. Though the lads have taken most of it to HQ.’

  ‘I know.’ She pulled out her file, leafed through the papers. ‘So, this gap in the fence…?’

  He crossed to the other side of the tower. ‘Here…’ He pointed. She saw a curve of chicken wire, roughly pulled apart. ‘We think the deceased must have climbed up the stairs, and then come through this gap to stand where you’re standing now.’

  She nodded, reading the file. ‘The fibres…’

  ‘Here.’ He pointed at the wall. ‘And here. And the blood spots here…’

  On the flagstones, brown dots, a tiny trail leading to the brick wall. ‘Of course, nothing to say it’s his,’ Dexter was saying.

  ‘Well, we’ll know when we get the lab results,’ she said. The horizon was tinged pink with the thickening cloud. Further up the beach she could see Murdo’s car, where he’d left it. ‘We need to get that towed,’ she said.

  ‘Sure,’ he said.

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Just one thing,’ he said. ‘I found it earlier on, on the staircase.’ He fished in his pocket, and held something out to her.

  It looked like a toy, a small plastic lion, painted green.

  ‘I bagged it just in case,’ he said. ‘Might be nothing.’

  She took the plastic bag, stared at the lion. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  Liam circulated, greeting people. There was a flight of steps down into the reception area, polished wood with spindly black railings. He glanced up.

  She was there, under the beam of a spotlight. He saw her hair, blonde, pinned up. He saw her black dress, shiny black shoes. More than that, it was the way she glided down the steps, her head bent shyly downwards. She turned to her husband, said a few words to him, and then they were there, beside him.

  ‘Liam.’ She smiled up at him.

  Chad was scanning the room, distracted.

  Liam turned to her. ‘A drink?’ he said.

  He shepherded them both over to the drinks table. ‘Red or white, I’m afraid. Or orange juice. This place isn’t known for its niceties. The white’s slightly more drinkable, I reckon. French, at least.’

  ‘White, then,’ she said.

  He handed her a glass. She met his eyes, looked away.

  Chad was gazing at the wall. There was a canvas, rough painted blocks of orange and red. He turned back to Liam. ‘Oh. Er, yes. White. Thanks.’ He took the glass Liam handed to him, waved his spare hand towards the wall. ‘Art, is it?’

  Liam smiled. ‘Art,’ he agreed.

  A booming voice came from behind them. ‘Phelps – there you are. Keeping the most charming guest to yourself, as usual…’

  Liam seemed to flinch. He turned. ‘Professor – ’

  ‘Alan Moffatt. Director.’ He held out his hand towards Helen. He was square-jawed, bespectacled, with thick grey hair. His jacket seemed too big for him, despite his large frame.

  ‘This is the Reverend Chad Meyrick,’ Liam said, ‘and his wife, Helen.’

  Alan took Helen’s hand. His eyes behind the wire frames were pale, almost blank. ‘Mrs. Meyrick.’ His smile showed teeth that were somehow too white. ‘And a Reverend,’ he said. He relinquished his grip on her hand, and turned to her husband. ‘Not often we get a man of the cloth in here,’ he said. ‘They tend to steer well clear of what we’re up to here.’

  Chad let go of his hand. ‘Oh? And why is that?’

  Alan threw him an affable smile. ‘Similar territory, isn’t it? Big Bang, beginnings of the Universe. Only we’re coming up with a different explanation from yours, don’t you know.’ He gave a gruff laugh.

  ‘I’m not sure ours is an explanation at all,’ Chad said. ‘I wouldn’t say we’re in any kind of competition for that.’

  ‘But the Biblical account – ’ Alan began.

  ‘The Biblical account is an entirely different discourse,’ Chad said.

  ‘Soon to be overridden altogether, old chap. Now it looks like we’ve pinned down the Higgs mechanism, and I have to say, the data is looking very promising, then we’ll have the whole story…’

  They began to move away. Alan was animated, smiling. Chad quieter, but waving his wine glass as he spoke.

  Helen rubbed her hand where Alan had gripped it. She looked up at Liam. ‘How’s Jonas?’ she said.

  His gaze passed from the Professor back to her, and he smiled. ‘Chasing rabbits, unfortunately.’

  ‘It’s just normal,’ she said.

  ‘Not when the rabbit is called Daisy and belongs to the little girl next door. Then it’s criminal behaviour.’

  She smiled up at him.

  ‘I’m sorry about just then,’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You became Mrs. Meyrick.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘That’s OK.’

  ‘Do you have a surname?’

  ‘I used to,’ she said.

  ‘Used to?’

  ‘When I was a dancer,’ she said.

  ‘But you still dance,’ he said.

  She remembered his visit yesterday. ‘I teach,’ she said.

  ‘Does teaching not need a surname?’ he said.

  She met his eyes. She felt too warm, and wondered if it showed.

  ‘I’m sorry I borrowed your husband,’ he said. ‘Earlier on. Virginia was insistent…’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It’s awful there. Did Chad tell you?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘Not much.’

  ‘We’re very worried about Tobias.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘One of my students came to see me. He’s a friend of his, apparently. They hang out together.’

  He glanced down at her. ‘Your glass is empty,’ he said. He crossed to the table, reappeared with a bottle, refilled both their glasses. ‘How does a ballet student know Tobias?’

  ‘He’s not your usual ballet student. I do a class at the Ridge Centre.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘He’s called Finn. Finn Brady.’

  ‘My sister might know him. She knows the Ridge.’

  ‘Your sister?’

  ‘You’ll find this is a very small world after London,’ he said. ‘My sister Sinead works in social services.’

  ‘Oh. I wonder if she knows Lisa Voake.’

  ‘Voake?’

  ‘She comes to class too. Finn made me promise to help her. She’s stuck between warring parents by the sound of it.’

  ‘Well I can ask Sinead…’

  ‘When I mentioned Social Services he laughed.’

  Liam nodded. ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘According to the Ridge people, Finn lives at a residential centre. His real name is Felix but he never uses it. Although it is plastered in spray paint under the railway arches – at least, I assume that’s him.’

  He smiled down at her.

  ‘He’s hard work,’ she said.

  ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘But a very talented dancer,’ she added.

  He said something that she didn’t quite hear, as the Professor’s booming voice approached again. ‘There’s superstition…’ he was saying. ‘And then there’s reason.’

  ‘That’s not a divide I accept.’ Chad was flushed, his voice raised, as they came to stand near the drinks table again. ‘If one wants to address the big questions-’

  ‘ – then it’s important to look at the evidence,’ Alan interrupted. ‘The way I see it, we can be rational, we can ask questions and then attempt to answer them based on experimentation and investigation and research – OR, we can tell ourselves
fairy stories and wish that they were true. I know which I prefer.’

  ‘Newton was religious,’ Chad said. ‘All his investigations were in the name of God. Are you going to tell me he was just dealing in fairy stories?’

  ‘Poor old Newton lived in his time,’ Alan said. ‘And, thank goodness, I live in mine. And by the way, Phelps – ’ he turned to Liam, as if Chad was now dismissed, ‘talking of superstition, we need to do something about the Maguire boy.’

  ‘Tobias?’ Liam seemed to flinch again as he faced the professor.

  ‘Downright hostile to me this morning. Sackable behaviour, I’d say.’

  ‘You have to take into account, Professor, that he’s had terrible news. We all have…’

  Alan seemed pulled up short. ‘Yes,’ he said, quieter now. ‘We all have.’ He looked towards Helen, and gave a small bow. ‘Madam, forgive me.’ He turned back to Liam. ‘Whatever the cause of his behaviour, that boy should not be here. Calling me all sorts of names, he was. Very disturbing. We can’t take the risk. I don’t mind for me, but some of the more retiring members of staff find it very disconcerting.’

  ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘I want you to tell him he’s out. You know him better than I do, it’ll be better coming from you.’

  ‘He likes it here – ’ Liam began. ‘I thought we could give him something to do in the library – ’

  ‘We’re not here to provide day care for the mentally disturbed, Phelps.’ His eyes wandered towards the crowd in the room, then focused back on Liam. ‘I’m relying on you to get rid of him, is that clear?’ He turned to Helen and took her hand again. ‘Lovely to meet you, Mrs…’ He turned to Chad, but Chad was standing some way off, talking to someone else, an awkward young man whose clothes seemed too short for his height.

  ‘A parishioner,’ Helen said. ‘I recognize him.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Alan nodded at Liam, then ambled away.

  Liam’s eyes followed him. ‘I can’t bear the man,’ he said, his voice quiet. ‘And neither could Murdo. He’s not really a scientist. He’s good with funding, that’s all. These weird results are lost on him – Good Heavens, I didn’t think she’d turn up.’ He was watching the stairs.

  Helen turned to see. There was a woman standing there. She was scanning the room, pinch-faced and nervous. She wore a beige raincoat and heeled boots, her light hair tied roughly back, and as she approached, Helen could see how pale she was, her skin scrubbed clean. The boots were in worn brown leather, expensive, Helen thought, but old.

  ‘I wasn’t going to come.’ Her words, in a soft American accent, were addressed to Liam.

  ‘I was surprised to see you,’ he said.

  ‘But then I thought, why should he win? I thought, it’s better to face him out, pretend nothing’s wrong.’ Her grey-green eyes were fixed on Liam’s.

  ‘He’s watching you now,’ Liam said.

  ‘I’ll bet he is.’

  Helen glanced towards Alan. Sure enough, he was staring towards them. Aware of her gaze, he looked away.

  ‘Sorry – ’ Liam was speaking to her now. ‘I didn’t introduce you. This is Elizabeth Merletti, one of our physicists.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you.’ Elizabeth held out a shy hand towards her, and Helen took it.

  ‘Helen… um…’ Liam began, then smiled at her. ‘She doesn’t have a surname.’

  Helen laughed. ‘It rather got lost when I married,’ she said to Elizabeth.’

  ‘Oh, I know that one.’ Elizabeth nodded at her. ‘Is he a physicist, your husband?’

  She shook her head. ‘A priest,’ she said. ‘Anglican.’

  ‘Even worse.’ Elizabeth threw her a smile. ‘Or maybe, better. What do I know?’

  Liam was watching the crowd. ‘He’s leaving,’ he said. ‘You’ve won.’

  Elizabeth breathed out. ‘Thank God for that.’

  Liam turned to Helen. ‘Elizabeth has been the hapless victim of Alan’s paranoia.’

  ‘We take it in turns here.’ She smiled at Helen.

  ‘There’ve been threats to the lab,’ Liam went on. ‘Weird notes stuck to the building, pushed under doors. For some reason Moffatt thinks she’s involved.’

  ‘It passes from one to another here,’ she said. ‘Poor old Iain got it for a while.’

  ‘Is that why he’s not here?’ Liam scanned the room.

  She shrugged. ‘There are many reasons why Iain’s not here. The main one being grief.’

  ‘Poor man.’ Liam turned to Helen. ‘Iain was Murdo’s team-mate on the experiment - ’

  ‘Best friend,’ Elizabeth added. ‘He couldn’t face it. Everyone trying to be jolly. When what we all feel is…’ Her voice tailed off. She looked at Liam. ‘His research… His results… and now he’s not here to see it. It was Iain who persuaded him to join the team. Iain said no one could do what he did. He was right, but…’ She stared at the floor.

  ‘Poor Helen,’ Liam said. ‘You’re not seeing us at our best.’

  Helen was about to speak, when Elizabeth said, ‘Ah. Good. Here’s Neil…’

  Liam glanced across to the stairs. ‘Neil. More trouble.’

  ‘Neil’s not trouble,’ Elizabeth said, turning to greet him. ‘Not if you know how to treat him.’

  ‘What was that?’ A large, red-faced man with a chaotic moustache was approaching.

  ‘She said you needed careful handling,’ Liam said. ‘Can I get you a drink as we seem to be the bartenders here?’

  ‘Another glass of red would be just the thing.’ He spoke breathlessly, as if the effort of crossing the room had been a little too much.

  Neil kissed Elizabeth on both cheeks. ‘Nice to see you dear. How’s the family?’

  ‘Which family?’ Helen noticed how her face looked blank.

  ‘The Van Mielen’s, of course.’

  ‘Oh.’ Elizabeth breathed out. ‘The American family. They’re fine, thanks for asking. Dad’s bought another parcel of land at the back of the ranch. He’s talking of growing spelt, although I reckon the pets’ll take it over before he can plant it.’

  ‘Pets?’

  ‘The cows. Ponies. Cavies too. My step-mom is just so soft-hearted…’

  Neil laughed. ‘Typical Kentish farmers.’

  ‘In Wisconsin?’

  Neil laughed again.

  ‘We’re not even van Mielens,’ Elizabeth turned to Liam. ‘It was my grandmother’s name. It just amuses him to pretend I’m local.’

  Neil patted her arm, turned to Liam, took the glass of wine that Liam was holding out to him. ‘Any more news on the experiment?’

  ‘No beam strength today.’ Liam spoke quietly. ‘So, no more significant reactions.’

  Neil nodded at him. ‘We’ve got a target luminosity of eleven hundred,’ he said. ‘Nowhere near that at the moment.’

  ‘Us too – Ah, look Helen – ’ Liam’s eyes were on the crowd again. ‘Here’s your husband. So,’ he said, turning to Chad, ‘you managed to survive your brush with science?’

  ‘Science?’ Chad frowned at him. ‘Oh. Yes. I think it’s going to take more than one of these Boson things –’ He looked up at them. ‘Has anyone seen Tobias?’

  ‘Tobias?’ Liam glanced across the room. ‘I didn’t know he was here.’

  ‘I saw him a while ago, out in the lobby. He was very upset, he was looking for you. I thought perhaps he’d found you.’

  ‘I haven’t seen him.’ Liam’s face was concerned.

  ‘He was ranting about the Professor. Very upset. Tearful, pacing about…’

  ‘Come on – ’ Liam began to head for the lobby. The others followed.

  They heard Tobias before they saw him, a stream of words, a shouted muddle, ‘They’ll come for him, they’ll stop him, he shouldn’t have done that to me…’

  He was striding around in circles in the lobby, the thin light from the fluorescent tube above him, the windows dark navy.

  ‘They’ll put a stop to him,’ Tobias was saying.


  Liam called to him. He stopped still, staring at the floor, his hands still winding around each other.

  ‘Tobias,’ Liam said again.

  He looked up, saw Liam, then saw the others standing behind him. He put one hand up to shield his eyes. Liam took a step towards him. ‘Tom,’ he said. ‘What’s happened?’

  Tobias shook his head, biting his lips.

  ‘Is it the Professor?’ Liam stood close to him, his voice low.

  ‘He’s done a wrong thing,’ Tobias said.

  ‘Have you just seen him?’

  ‘He was there – ’ Tobias pointed towards the door. ‘And I was coming in, and he said “There’s no place for you here young man.” His voice cracked with tears. ‘He said I didn’t work here anymore, and I said, but what about the collisions and the aether, and he said he can’t have me wasting time looking into all that anymore and he’d get someone who knew about things properly and not nonsense…’ He began to sob, big wet tears.

  Liam laid his hand gently on his arm.

  ‘And he asked for the Book,’ Tobias said.

  ‘What book?’ Liam said.

  ‘The Book about the atoms and the Green Lion and the Nothingness,’ Tobias said, ‘and I told him we didn’t have it any more, and he got very angry, very very angry, and he said we shouldn’t have got rid of it…’ Tobias was gasping between sobs. ‘He said there’s a kind of knowledge which is dangerous in the wrong hands. And Murdo’s not here to tell him…’ Tobias bent and buried his face in Liam’s neck.

  Liam murmured, patting his back.

  Helen stepped forward with a tissue. Liam tucked a finger under Tobias’s chin and dabbed at his wet cheeks.

  ‘We should get you home,’ Liam said. ‘Is Virginia back there?’

  Tobias nodded, through sniffs. He allowed Liam to take his arm and steer him out of the door into the car park. The small party followed awkwardly.

  Chapter Eleven

  The night air was cool and fresh. Elizabeth smoothed down her coat. ‘I guess I’ll leave you to it, Liam. Neil and I…’

  Neil was nodding at them. ‘Not wanted on voyage, I’d say. Let’s go back inside.’

  Chad was swaying from foot to foot. ‘Perhaps I might be… I mean, we – ’

  ‘Sure. We’ll go in my car.’

  Helen found herself getting into the back of Liam’s car, sitting next to her husband amongst paper cups and half-empty bottles of water.