Jane Hetherington's Adventures In Detection

by Nina Jon

  “All this excitement isn’t good for my pacemaker,” Horace said, getting up from the table. With a nod in Jane’s direction, he walked over to the door and left. Bea walked over to Jane and began collecting the empty cups.

  “Enjoying yourself?” asked Bea.

  Jane nodded.

  “If you’d like to play, ask the Culleys, they organised it.”

  “The Culleys?”

  “Ted and Betsy.”

  “They’re married?” Jane said, rather surprised.

  “Almost fifty-five years, I hear.”

  “Good Lord!”

  Charlie and the Culleys eventually left together, followed by Jane.

  Outside the building, Dean’s granddad turned to walk one way and the Culleys another, but before they parted company, Charlie said to Ted,

  “I’ll be at your place by mid-day.”

  No one seemed perturbed by these words and as the Culleys turned left, Charlie turned right. Despite the slowness of his years, his stride was steady and purposeful and it didn’t take him too long to reach his ground-floor flat. He slowly opened his door and disappeared inside it. Jane thought she should wait awhile, in case he reappeared. Although it was still relatively early, she wasn’t sure where she should wait. There was a bench nearby, but Jane was slightly worried about drawing attention to herself. This, after all, was sheltered accommodation, and she was concerned that one of the staff might see her sitting on a bench alone in the dark and believe she’d forgotten who or where she was. This, she supposed, was why most private detectives smoked. It gave them a convincing reason for being outside alone at any time of the day or night. One side of the bench was lit by a street lamp. Jane sat at the other, camouflaged by darkness, wondering how long she was going to be there. Her knitting was at the hotel, as was her book, not that she could see well enough to do either, anyway. She began to wish she’d taken the leap and bought herself the Smartphone she was considering buying. At least she could have tested her heartbeat and blood pressure while she waited.

  She noticed that there weren’t any lights on in the flat next door to Charlie’s. Hopefully, this meant its owners were either out or asleep. She stepped into their porch and waited. She wasn’t sure what she would do if they returned and found her there, but luckily this wasn’t to be a problem, for, after only about fifteen minutes, she heard the door to Charlie’s flat open and shut again and a few minutes after that the old man walked past her. He’d changed his shirt and was holding a beautifully wrapped present, complete with a large gold bow. Jane watched Charlie stop at the door of the flat two away from his, and knock on it. While he waited for the door to open, Jane studied his strong, chiselled features and mane of white hair. What a good-looking man he must have been when young, she thought.

  The door was opened by a woman Jane had seen in the communal lounge earlier on. Other than a cursory nod in each other’s direction, she hadn’t seen the two speak, but they were certainly talking now, and more. Charlie had thrown his arms around his lady-friend’s shoulders and was kissing her. Only when the kissing stopped did he hand her his present. This time she kissed him. Eventually, the couple stepped into her flat and the door closed behind them. If they’d been younger, Charlie would have carried her inside, Jane thought. Liz had already told her that Charlie had once been something of a ladies’ man. In his younger days, he’d ‘run Dean’s nan a merry dance,’ she’d said. Some things never change, thought Jane.

  As it appeared unlikely she would see Granddad Moon again that evening, she decided to return to her hotel.

  Once back in her hotel room, and after telephoning room service and asking them to send up a selection of sandwiches, she sat down at the desk, opened her ruled shorthand notepad, and compiled a list of suspects:

  Bea Applegate

  Unknown staff member(s)

  Ted Cully

  Betsy Cully

  Horace

  Woman in flat

  Unknown resident(s)

  None of the above

  Jane closed her eyes. This was getting ridiculous. She’d been on the case for less than twenty-four hours and so far, all she had to show for it was an ever-expanding list of suspects. When Jane had decided to become a private detective she’d been worried about many things, one being whether she’d be able to solve every case. Here, it wasn’t so much a matter of solving the case, but of being able to do so before the guilty party was hospitalised by the victim, and it caused her great concern.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The Real McCoy

  I

  Jane returned to Greenfields for eleven thirty a.m. Although she’d heard Charlie arrange to call in on the Culleys at midday, she hadn’t thought to establish where the Culleys actually lived. She decided to wait for Charlie to emerge from whichever flat he’d spent the night in and follow him to the Culleys’ place.

  She chose a bench at the far side of the gardens, which faced

  Charlie’s flat and from which she could also see the majority of Greenfields, including the infamous communal lounge. Behind her was the car park, where two young lads took it in turns to skateboard.

  She hadn’t been waiting long, when she saw Charlie leave his flat and walk over to the car park. The minute he came into view, the two boys stopped skateboarding and started to walk in his direction. Charlie and the two boys converged in the car park, watched on by Jane. The two boys positioned themselves on either side of the old man. A few words were said, but Jane couldn’t hear anything of the conversation. Charlie produced his wallet and handed one of the boys what looked like quite a lot of money. More words were said and the money pocketed by the boys. One of the two lads jumped on his skateboard, and using his left leg to project himself, skateboarded away with his companion running by his side.

  “Oi!” Charlie called out. The two boys stopped and looked back. Charlie Moon pointed at his watch, held up five fingers in the air, and yelled, “My place.”

  Charlie certainly didn’t appear to be either shaken, nor upset; in fact, quite the opposite. Jane, however, was on her feet. Charlie had clearly handed a large sum of money over to one of the skateboarders. For heaven’s sake, she thought. What on earth did he do that for? Had they made him?

  She wondered if she should call Dean or run after the boys. Even if that had been going to practical, it was now too late – the lads had disappeared from sight. She looked over to Charlie. Wherever he was going next, he clearly wanted to look his best for it. He’d produced a mirror from his pocket, placed it on the bonnet of a car, and was combing his hair. He spat into his hand and used his saliva to wet down his hair. Finally, he straightened his tie and collar before returning both mirror and comb to his pocket. He set off towards his rendezvous, followed by Jane.

  Despite his frailty, he was still putting up a good pace. He left the car park and retraced his steps, only this time he continued past the apartment block which housed his flat, to a row of bungalows set back from it. He stopped at the first property and marched up the driveway and began hammering at the door. Although Jane was still some way from him, she could hear him hollering.

  “Open up, old dears! Open up! Open up!” he yelled, still hammering at the front door.

  The front window opened and Betsy’s head appeared.

  “Get that old man out of bed,” Charlie demanded. “Tell him I’m here. I said I’d be here at mid-day, and I’m here.”

  Jane glanced at her watch. It was twelve thirty-one.

  “Ted!” Betsy yelled. “Ted, Charlie’s here.” This conversation too, was conducted at full volume.

  Betsy’s head disappeared back inside the window, but before she had time to shut it, Charlie bellowed out, “I’ve come for my winnings.”

  Betsy’s head reappeared at the window. “Keep your voice down, will you? You’ll have us evicted.”

  “There’s no one around to hear us, woman,” Charlie retorted angrily. “There’s only two of ’em on duty and they’ll both be watching soa
p operas.”

  After a few minutes the front door opened and Ted appeared, still wearing his dressing gown. “Two hundred and eighty-five quid,” Charlie stated. “That’s what I won and I’m here to collect it.”

  Two hundred and eighty-five pounds, thought Jane. She opened her notebook and quickly checked her notes. Betsy had lost one hundred and five pounds to Charlie the night before and her husband one hundred and eighty pounds, making two hundred and eighty-five pounds in total. It looked as though Charlie was here to collect it, only this time it wasn’t fake money he wanted. He’d come for the real McCoy. Well, well, well, thought Jane. No wonder things were so heated at the poker table. Jane could only admire the ingenuity of it all. Not only did the residents get around the ban on gambling for cash - but they did so under the eyes of the staff, which could only add to the sense of satisfaction.

  “Tell Betsy to fetch my money,” Charlie instructed Ted, still standing in the doorway. “Everyone knows you keep your money under the bed, you damned fool. And get a move on, man. I’ve a taxi arriving any minute now.”

  Jane didn’t need to hear any more. She decided to try and intercept the taxi.

  She found it waiting, its engine humming. “I wonder if I could ask you directions?” she asked the driver. “If you have time? Are you waiting for someone?”

  “I’m waiting to take one of the old boys to the bookies, but he’s not here yet, so fire away,” the taxi driver replied. He was a young man with a shaved head and tattooed knuckles.

  Jane told the driver that she had to drive to a nearby town the following day and was wondering which, of two routes, to take. Despite his appearance the young taxi driver turned out to be extremely helpful and began by informing her immediately which of the two routes she certainly shouldn’t choose.

  “Been single lane for six frigging months now. Don’t think I’ve seen a frigging workman yet. Seen enough frigging cones mind you,” he complained, unconcerned that his language might offend. “Here he is, here’s my ride,” the driver said, when Charlie came into view. Jane looked across the car park to see Charlie crossing it in his usual slow, but regal manner.

  “A regular?” Jane said.

  “I’ll say,” the driver replied. “I’d go bust if it wasn’t for old Charlie’s trips to the bookies. Not to mention all those fancy restaurants you take your lady-friends to, eh Charlie?” he said just as the man himself reached the taxi. The taxi driver stepped out of his car to open the door for Charlie. “We’ll never keep you away from the ladies or the horses, will we old boy?” the driver said to Charlie, with a large grin.

  Charlie chuckled to himself and climbed into the car, muttering, “Less of the old from you, laddy.”

  “I’m going into town, would you mind very much if I shared your taxi and we split the fare?” Jane asked Charlie.

  “I’d be more than delighted to share my taxi with such a beautiful young woman,” Charlie Moon replied, indicating for Jane to climb into the taxi next to him. “I wouldn’t dream of expecting you to split the fare.”

  “That’s most kind of you,” Jane said, stepping into the taxi and sitting next to him on the back seat.

  “We’ll treat it as a first date,” he said, giving her hand a quick squeeze.

  In his car mirror, the taxi driver gave Jane a wink, and the taxi moved off.

  “What big hands you have,” Jane said. “Were you ever a boxer?”

  “Junior amateur champion: welterweight. Under twenty-one amateur champion: welterweight. Army amateur champion: welterweight. I was a left-paw,” he said, punching the air with his left hand. “I don’t box officially any more, you understand. I’m too old. I could still take on half these youngsters, though,” he said with a mischievous laugh. The driver laughed but Jane didn’t, because she was quite sure he could.

  The taxi pulled to a stop at the rank in the town centre, where Jane got out. Charlie remained in the back of the vehicle, searching through his pockets for the fare. Jane had seen a poster advertising a dance taking place that evening at the communal lounge, and after waiting for Charlie to settle the fare said, “I hope you don’t find it presumptuous my asking you this, Charlie, but I wondered if you were going to the dance this evening?”

  The driver burst out laughing. “Mind out, love – he’s seventy-nine! You trying to kill him off?”

  “I’m seventy-eight and five quarters!” Charlie yelled, climbing out of the car. “My, you’re a forward one, lady. Matter of fact, I am going to the dance, yes, but I already have a date or two.” He took her hand and gave it a little squeeze. Although his fingers were bony and his skin wrinkled, there was still some strength left in the old man’s grip. “But I’ll still find time for a dance with you, my lovely, I promise you that.”

  Jane turned to walk away, then stopped and spun around. Charlie, who was waiting for his change, stopped to look up at her, as did the taxi driver.

  “I wonder if…Oh dear, this is a bit embarrassing,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand, and attempting to look as embarrassed as she could. “I don’t normally do things like this,” she said, coquettishly. The taxi driver and Charlie looked at each other and then back to Jane, clearly wondering what on earth she was going to say. “It’s just, maybe, we could meet up for a coffee later this afternoon,” she blurted out.

  “Cor blimey, Charlie,” the taxi driver said. “Wish I had your way with the ladies.”

  “I’m free at five today,” she said, playfully.

  “I’m meant to be back for…” he started to say. Jane knew he was referring to the five o’clock meeting she’d seen him arrange with the youngsters. Would she prove a bigger draw than they? “What the heck,” he said. “It can wait. What’s more important than coffee with a beautiful woman?”

  “Five it is then,” Jane said, as the taxi driver rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  “I believe there’s a coffee shop in there,” she said, pointing to a department store nearby. She hadn’t a clue whether there was a coffee shop there or not, but as she had no intention of meeting Charlie for coffee anyway, it was an academic point.

  “Okay,” Charlie said. “Five p.m. for coffee it is.”

  Jane even managed to giggle girlishly before they separated.

  Jane waited for a few minutes then doubled back on herself. Charlie had departed in the direction of the High Street. Jane caught up with him, still making his way slowly, but purposefully along the street. She hung back. She didn’t want Charlie to turn around and see her, but she needn’t have worried. Charlie looked straight ahead until he reached the bookies and went inside. Jane could imagine everyone there shouting his name out as he stepped inside.

  After waiting a while she peered through the windows of the bookies as discreetly as she could. The windows were darkened and Jane could see very little and gave up. Other than the occasional sweepstake on the Grand National, Jane herself had never really gambled, nor had Hugh. However, she knew what the inside of a betting shop looked like, and assumed there would be so many people inside it that Charlie wouldn’t be able to beat somebody up in there, even if he’d wanted to. She looked at her watch. It was ten past one in the afternoon. Did he intend gambling for hours? Quite possibly, she thought.

  Left with no choice but to hang around and find out, she bought herself a newspaper from a nearby newsagents, and settled down on the bench at the end of the road. She waited and waited and waited. She’d read the paper from cover to cover, finished the Sudoku, the Codeword, and was two thirds of the way through the Crossword, when Charlie emerged from the betting shop, grinning. He must have won, she thought.

  She looked at her watch. It was five past four. She realised Charlie was walking in her direction, and quickly concealed herself behind the newspaper, waiting for him to pass her. As he did, she took out her compact and opened it and pretended to powder her face. In the compact’s mirror, she watched Charlie make his way down the street. With the mirror still open, she quickly ran her fi
ngers through her hair, snapped the mirror closed, dropped it back into a handbag, and got up to follow him. When Charlie reached a barbers, he disappeared from sight. She looked through its window and nearly jumped out of her skin. Charlie had someone in a headlock. Good Lord. Should she intervene? Once again, she had no need to worry. Charlie quickly released his captive, a man no younger than him, and the two men began a play fight, which ended with Charlie putting his hands up in mock surrender. The other party to the fight left the barbers shortly afterwards, laughing and waving goodbye to Charlie and the barber.

  Jane watched Charlie settle himself down in the barber’s chair while the barber threw a towel around him and made ready to shave him. Jane glanced at her watch again. It was now ten past four, giving Charlie enough time for a haircut and a shave, before meeting her at five o’clock. She could only hope he’d wait for her at the coffee shop for at least thirty minutes, before giving up on her. Given the time it would then take him to get back to Greenfields again, this should give her more than enough time to complete her business there.

  She left Charlie Moon at the barbers, and got a taxi back to the sheltered accommodation complex, where she hurried to Charlie’s flat to await the skateboarders’ return. They arrived on cue at exactly five o’clock, both on foot, although one held his skateboard under his arm. The other clutched a plastic bag. Jane walked over to meet them. Neither boy made any attempt to run away.

  “Okay, love?” one of the two boys asked her.

  “Are you expecting Charlie Moon,” Jane asked. “If so, I’m afraid he’s just telephoned me to say he’s running late. He won’t be here for at least an hour.”