Stone Cold Dead

by Roger Ormerod

  ‘Any word you wish.’

  I was driving more and more slowly. Flight Lane was only half a mile ahead.

  ‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘I queried its efficiency, and she answered that she could stand in that witness box, breathalizer or not, and still swear that my man was drunk.’

  ‘Well...she was on oath.’

  ‘Yes. But I had to ask her why she had reason (apart from the details we’d already heard of his erratic driving at that time) any reason at all to believe he was drunk. She said that yes, she had, and I asked: then what, exactly? And she gave me one of her smiles. Oh, she’d recognized me, of course. And she went on to tell the court that when she offered the breathalizer, and he pursed his lips, he said, “Give us a kiss, luv.” And of course, laughter again, and I thought at my expense.’

  ‘Is this going to take long, Gerald?’ I was coming up to Flight Lane. ‘They’ll be waiting.’

  ‘Does it matter?’ he asked, sighing. ‘A little anxiety—is that anything to set against what I’ve been through! You too, Richard, of course,’ he conceded politely.

  ‘So what happened in court, apart from the laughter at your expense?’

  ‘Well...you see...I was sort of poised for conflict, you might put it, knowing her. And the response came to me, just out of the air. I said, and I can quote the exact words because they appeared in our local paper, verbatim, and I have that cutting in my office desk.’

  The brandy had done him a world of good, apparently. His voice was no longer unsteady, and he’d lost the tight, tense attitude he’d had before.

  ‘And your exact words, Gerald?’

  ‘I said: “I am sure that the court, who have been observing the witness closely, will agree with me that it was a very reasonable and sober request.” And the magistrate laughed.’

  ‘Well...good for you.’

  ‘And Clare smiled at me, and inclined her head.’

  ‘Well—that’s fine. Shall we go on?’

  ‘He’s peacefully asleep.’

  ‘I was thinking—’

  ‘But Richard—that wasn’t the end of it, you see—it was only the beginning.’

  I couldn’t feel that I wanted to hear any more, not just at that time. ‘Can’t you keep the rest for later, Gerald?’

  ‘You’re just not interested, that’s the trouble. I offer you confidences, and you don’t want to hear.’

  ‘Oh, I do, I do. But later. You’re forgetting, I’m the one who was in all the action, and I’m past the age when it comes easily. I’m tired, Gerald. I ache. Tell me later, there’s a good fellow.’

  He was silent.

  I turned the car into Flight Lane, and increased the speed. Orange light ahead beckoned me, and as we came closer I saw that they had the white floods on again. That meant they expected us (if we returned fit and well and both in one piece) to drive round there. I did this. They had moved the Rolls further along, so that I could stop the car directly opposite to the bar entrance.

  They had heard us, and in a moment had surrounded the car. Faces peered in at us, and grimaced, or smiled, whatever seemed appropriate. On the far side, Amelia was opening the passenger’s door.

  I could see that she would have difficulty lifting out the lad, as Gerald seemed bemused as to his actions in this crisis. But by that time I had my own door open, and as I stepped out I said, ‘Slide him over to me, Gerald.’

  With both of us leaning towards each other, we managed the transfer smoothly. I backed out with Dennis in my arms, and then slammed the door with my hip...and realized I had left the keys in the ignition lock.

  Then I knew, and had a clear mental picture. Clare had reached across her driver’s seat to reach out something bulky and weighty. Dennis, we knew, had been at the houseboat, as we had found his little jacket. He had not been there earlier in the day, because Colin had been there, and would surely have seen him. Clare, therefore, had been bringing him to Helen, her sister. But she hadn’t wanted to be seen doing it, so she had not been able to drive down to Flight House. So she had carried Dennis, in her arms, Dennis...whom she had not been able to put to the ground while she locked the car door. And this must have been done at around 5.15.

  It followed from this that Pierce must have fetched the lad back home. During the previous night.

  But...if he had not known where Helen was hiding from him, how had he known where to come in order to fetch Dennis home?

  He had come, because most of Helen’s injuries had been recent. And he had not taken Helen home, for the simple reason that she’d been incapable of moving. He had come in the night.

  As I stood there, unaware of what was going on around me, I realized that Gerald had managed to get to his feet, and was looking lost. I thought I understood why. He had expected to be the one who carried Dennis inside, the triumph his.

  I stood and waited. He straightened, walked round, and I surrendered the lad. I could think of nothing else but that slammed door.

  They flocked around him, the three old darlings and his family, and Gerald stood there, beaming. Hadn’t he rescued the lad, as planned?

  Amelia took my arm. She knew I wanted to keep well out of it. All I needed now was for the memory to fade.

  ‘Has it been bad, Richard?’

  I shrugged. ‘I’m getting too old for it, love. Too old.’

  But the swarm of faces around him had confused Dennis, and none of them was his mother’s. The only words I’d heard him say had been, ‘I want to go to momma.’ Or something like that. Gerald lowered him to his feet, and now Dennis raised his voice and howled. He was confused, scared, and overwhelmed by faces.

  Gently, I eased my way through. He recognised me as the big man who’d belted his father into unconsciousness, though perhaps he didn’t use, to himself, that exact phrase. In any event, he smiled. That was thanks enough for me. I crouched down to his eye level. ‘I want to go to momma,’ he said, positively and lustily.

  ‘And so you shall. Tomorrow. You know—tomorrow? When it gets light again. We’ll take you to your momma tomorrow.’

  His eyes were huge. I saw comprehension in them, a small hint of a smile on his lips. ‘Tomorrow.’ He had a little difficulty with the double ‘r’s.

  Then Mellie, sensible girl, came in with Bruce on his lead. Why hadn’t I thought of that? We parted for them, and Dennis shouted, ‘Brucey!’ That was it. The spell of shock evaporated, and memory was erased. Only the present existed for both of them, Dennis rolling on his back, Bruce pounding paws on his chest and frantically applying the tongue treatment. Now Dennis was screaming again, but it was with joy. Heavens, how this household needed screams of joy!

  I drew back. Amelia was still clinging to my arm. ‘A bath, Richard?’

  ‘Yes. Oh yes.’

  ‘And...Gerald?’ she asked. ‘He’s gone up already. How did he cope with it?’

  ‘In the morning—maybe even later this evening—he’ll be telling everybody what a splendid time he’s had.’

  We were mounting the stairs slowly, side by side, there being just enough room. ‘And did he?’ she asked.

  ‘He learned a few things.’

  ‘So, in the morning we can take Dennis to see his mother...Then what? Have you given it one thought?’

  I opened the door to our room, closed it behind us, and began peeling off my clothes. ‘Run a bath for me, love, will you.’

  She went into the bathroom, and called out above the rush of the taps. ‘In the morning...do you intend to take him to see his mother?’

  ‘That was the idea. I thought we’d agreed on that.’

  ‘Then what? Dennis can’t stay here, and I’m sure Helen won’t be discharged for a while.’

  ‘We’ll have to see. Take it as it comes.’

  ‘And if it all comes about that she’s still got nowhere to go when they discharge her, except back to her husband...’

  I stepped into the bath. She had it too hot. Stepped smartly out again. ‘Bath salts?’ I asked, shooting in a sma
ll amount of cold water.

  ‘You’ll have to manage without. There aren’t any. And you’re dodging the issue.’

  I wallowed, and the pains seemed to retreat. I said, ‘If she’s got nowhere to go, I thought we might phone Mary and ask her to prepare that spare room...’

  Quietly, she cut in, ‘The house is mine, Richard. You mustn’t forget that.’

  I stopped soaping, and stared at her. She had never before thrown that fact at me. ‘You surely wouldn’t object—’

  ‘Richard,’ she said gently, leaning over and kissing me on the forehead, ‘no wife likes a younger woman—and one who’s probably very good looking indeed, when the bruises and the swellings go—no wife wants such a woman anywhere near her husband. Especially living in the same house.’

  ‘For Chrissake! I’m twice her age.’

  ‘Since when did that matter, Richard?’

  Then, as women will when you’re helpless to follow, she walked out into the bedroom. ‘Amelia!’ But she didn’t return. Perhaps as well, because you can’t do much, lying in a steaming bath, to persuade a woman that she’s just plain crazy to think that anybody could possibly replace her...

  Then she returned, just as I was levering myself up and about to chase after her, wringing wet or not.

  ‘Yes, Richard?’

  She made the mistake of approaching too closely, and you can do quite a lot in a steaming bath, I discovered, in the way of persuasion, even when the woman has her clothes on. I hoped nobody heard her screams and mistook them for appeals for assistance, because she didn’t need any assistance at all.

  A little later, towelled dry, and with dressing gowns over our pyjamas, we ventured out into the corridor to see what was or wasn’t happening. Nothing seemed to be happening at all, except for the fact that one human being was standing at the end of the corridor, peering past a partly open door. We approached. It was Mellie. She gave a tiny cry when I touched her arm.

  ‘What is it?’ I whispered.

  She stood aside, and gestured. In the bed they’d hurriedly made up was Dennis, fast asleep. Bruce was lying beside him, but on the coverlet, though he had managed to intrude his nose on to the pillow. What pressure had been applied to Gerald to allow this to have come about, I couldn’t guess, but he’d been the one to rescue Dennis, hadn’t he, and he could hardly grumble now. Not and be listened to.

  From the fact that Bruce was again in his pristine and fluffy condition, as acquired by the use of a hair dryer, I deduced that they had been in the same bath together. All those years of experience in the police force had endowed me with these powers of deduction.

  ‘Better leave them to it,’ I said. Mellie smiled. ‘Good-night. See you in the morning,’ she promised.

  Then we returned to our respective rooms, and Amelia said, ‘We’ve decided nothing.’

  ‘True. So we’ll wait and see how things turn out.’

  Chapter Twelve

  The following morning, it was Dennis who basically dictated the schedule. Everybody was anxious to attend to his welfare. He, with the adaptability of his age, seemed to have forgotten the previous evening’s excitement, though he had not forgotten the one central issue, as far as he was concerned: there had been a promise that he would be able to go to see his mother. Go and be with her, he no doubt considered this to mean, as whenever I looked round, his two big brown eyes were fixed on me. I was the one who made things happen.

  We ate in the dining room, and Ruby had produced a buffet-style affair, so that everybody helped themselves. This meant that you had the choice of where you sat. I was between Amelia and Colin. His choice, not mine.

  ‘Settled it with your bosses, have you?’ I asked him quietly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The critical problem of the winding handle. Are they taking away the new one they brought, now you’ve rescued the old one?’

  He dug into his bacon and eggs. ‘They’re leaving it. Somebody’s told them that it might be a long while before the police let me have the old one again, so they’re leaving the new one.’

  ‘Hmm!’ I said, and turned my attention to the tenth time that my jacket had been tugged. ‘Soon,’ I said. ‘Your momma’s got to have her own breakfast first. And then she’s got to be all cleaned up and smelling nice, because where she is they don’t believe in people smelling nasty.’

  He frowned at that, and Amelia said softly, ‘He’s only a child, Richard. You mustn’t tease him.’

  ‘Mussen tease,’ Dennis agreed, so I ruffled his hair and he ran off, laughing.

  But Colin had been waiting patiently, in order to carry on where he’d left off. ‘What d’you mean by that?’ he asked stubbornly.

  ‘By what?’

  ‘You said: hmm. Something to do with the winding handle.’

  ‘Ah yes.’ I chewed, swallowed, and said, ‘The police’ll keep that one for ages. I know. Right up to and past any court case. And the old dears’ll start worrying you about the new one.’

  ‘What’re you getting at?’ he asked suspiciously.

  ‘Something I’ve thought about. Thought, and thought, and thought, in fact, and hadn’t got very far. It’s that chain, you see.’

  ‘What chain?’

  ‘That length of chain down by the pound, where she went in. You know what I mean—it’s supposed to hold the gate arm, or something like that.’

  Colin was at once mentally involved with his technical expertise. ‘It’s like this, you see. When the pressure eases—’

  ‘Never mind the technicalities,’ I told him. ‘It wasn’t fastened when I was trying to get down there—trying to get to Clare.’

  ‘It oughto’ve been.’ He frowned heavily.

  ‘Well it wasn’t. Now think about it Colin. Think. The chain was probably unfastened just so that Clare’s body—her unconscious body at that time, I’d guess—anyway, just so that she could be slid into the pound. Because that place would be a logical choice. It’s about the only place that’s really hidden from the upstairs windows of the house, way down there and at the other side of the footbridge. But it does mean that it was done by somebody who knew that, about the chain, and the way the pound was hidden from sight. Are you with me?’

  He was no longer eating, and was glaring at me. ‘What’re you getting at? You’re sayin’ it was me!’ Agitation was slurring his words.

  ‘I’m not getting at anything specific.’ I turned to him, smiling with my mouth full, and still chewing. ‘Except that it’s how I believe it was done.’ I swallowed. ‘And after all, you did say the winding handle was more often than not on the rack and pinion I had such a hell of a job getting past.’

  ‘All right, all right.’ He thrust back his chair.

  I caught his arm. ‘For God’s sake, don’t be so prickly. I’m only using your expert knowledge to confirm my thinking on it. But it is feasible, isn’t it? Don’t you think? Just because nobody saw anything of what happened—that adds a bit of authority to it.’

  ‘Authority?’ Colin blinked at me, not understanding. Authority, to him, was a group of three old people.

  ‘Authenticity, then,’ I said.

  ‘All right, all right.’ He attempted to smile. It didn’t seem to him now that I was trying to trap him. ‘So why tell me about it?’

  ‘Just confirming about the chain,’ I assured him, ‘and telling you that the handle you found yesterday couldn’t be the one used to attack Clare. Wrong lock, Colin. You ought to have tried the bottom lock first. Don’t you think? It’s right next door to that pound.’

  He stood over me, then thumped his forehead with the heel of his hand. ‘Fool that I am. I’ll try that.’

  ‘But it doesn’t really matter...’

  He was already gone, heading for the door. A little more dragging was now on the agenda.

  It did, however, remove one from the number who wished to go to the hospital. Amelia and I had the precedence, I thought, because it was we who had already been to visit Helen, and I had been thinking
in terms of three people for this visit. Amelia, Dennis and myself. But oh no—it was already assumed that everybody would be going. Well...everybody, now, bar Colin. And not Ray, as he hadn’t turned up and was assumed to be back on duty. Was Mellie never going to get used to the fact that he would not always be there when she wanted him? In this instance, though, her attention was completely absorbed with Dennis.

  But now...they all wanted to go. Gerald—hadn’t he been the one to rescue Dennis from that terrible father? Ruby and Mellie said that the washing-up would have to wait until they got back. Nod, nod. So there! Amelia and I were going because we’d already visited, and Helen would know us. And the three old dears! Now...that I had not expected. Anything unpleasant in life usually had very little opportunity to brush against them. They were probably quite unaware of the existence of such streets as Brindley Street, at Crayminster. Yet they wanted to visit the young woman in hospital. Heavens! To them, hospital was a delicately pristine room, tended by one’s own personal nurse. The sight of a whole double row of beds in one ward, all inhabited by women who couldn’t really be considered hygienic, otherwise they wouldn’t be in such surroundings, would probably send them running. Yet they wanted to go there, were looking forward to it as though it might be a coach trip to Blackpool—which itself would thoroughly upset them.

  I sighed, and phoned to find out the morning visiting hours. Nine-thirty to ten-thirty. I didn’t ask to be connected to the ward, not wishing to hear anything disconcerting.

  ‘Oh...we’ll have to rush...rush!’ cried Alexandra.

  It was only a quarter of an hour’s drive away, and we wouldn’t need the whole hour, anyway.

  There would be eight of us, as Gerald still insisted on going. Hadn’t he rescued the lad? He kept reminding everybody of that. And of course...Dennis. I’d forgotten him, the most important visitor, indeed the only one Helen would really wish to see. Nine of us, then.

  It was to be hoped that Arnold Pierce didn’t put in an appearance. This seemed unlikely. He wouldn’t dare. Hospitals have their own means of ejection, and a meaningful gesture with a full hypodermic syringe usually did the trick.