Stone Cold Dead

by Roger Ormerod

  Oh...and Bruce. I’d forgotten Brucey. Dennis hadn’t, though. When we gathered outside, deciding on who would travel in which car, that was when the question of the dog arose. Dennis refused to go anywhere without his Brucey. ‘Not even to see your momma?’ Amelia asked. That really upset him. He was too young to have to handle such choices. So in the end we conceded the point, and loaded Dennis with Bruce into Amelia’s car, along with Mellie and Ruby, Gerald sitting with Jenkins on the front seat of the Rolls, the other three in their usual places in the rear.

  A complicated performance of backing-up and reversing then took place, with Colin enjoying himself no end, waving his three-pronged hook to convey instructions, and nearly backing himself into one of his own locks.

  We reached the hospital at 9.45. Not bad at all. I had expected long delays whilst Gerald chose a hospital-visiting suit.

  The car park was packed, and Jenkins and I both had difficulties in finding parking spaces, he being the most inconveniently placed in that he had three passengers who could not conceive the possibility of actually having to get out and walk. But Jenkins was magnificent. The apparition of the stately Rolls Royce, and Jenkins’s dignity, attracted the assistance of an ambulance driver, who found them a space so close to Admissions that he must have expected three multiple-injuries cases to alight. The three old dears thanked him. I thought for one moment that Adolphus was about to tip him, but he was reaching for nothing more than his handkerchief. Already, there were smells around him that he found unfamiliar, and distinctly uninviting.

  I thought to ask at the Admissions desk about Helen Pierce. There could, and I prayed not, have been a relapse. But it seemed to be quite the reverse of that.

  ‘She’s no longer in Intensive Care, sir. You’ll find her in Brindley Ward.’

  There he was again, that Brindley. He got everywhere. As did Brucey, apparently, because there he was, nudging against Dennis’s legs. ‘The dog?’ I asked weakly.

  ‘Oh...take him along. You’ll have to ask Sister, though.’

  ‘Ah!’ I said. ‘Yes. Thank you.’

  Dennis marched along, very serious now, overawed by the bustling movement around him and by the fact that his mother had become an important person in this overwhelming and busy building, and somewhat subdued by the fact that he’d heard it said that somebody of huge authority had to be asked about Brucey. He held Amelia’s hand, and kept glancing back. Yes, there was Bruce. Where else could he be? He was still on his lead.

  In the event, there was no problem about dogs. Indeed, there was already a crowd of visitors, including dogs, and a clatter of cheerful conversation, cheerful because this wasn’t so serious as Intensive Care, comparison elevating this ward to a mood of relaxation. Yes, there were dogs, not happy, and not pleased about these strange smells. One woman had brought a cat. So we joined the throng, Bruce at Dennis’s heels.

  Helen was right down the far end. We edged and manoeuvred our way through, Ruby and Mellie anxious, Gerald severe, and the three old darlings completely confused.

  No more, now, the drip and the drain, and they had her sitting up, looking brighter, the bruises fading, the swollen lips thinner so that the missing teeth were unfortunately more obvious. But she could smile. Her ribs were still bound, and her wrist still lay in its cast on the surface of the bed.

  ‘Told you, didn’t I?’ I asked Dennis. ‘There she is, all snug and warm.’

  And strangely, after his previous behaviour, Dennis advanced slowly, shyly, and with uncertainty, as though she might vanish like a soap bubble if he approached her with enthusiasm. And why the hell was I longing for a smoke, all of a sudden?

  She wept, of course, Helen did, but silently and undemonstratively, with Dennis’s head buried in her side, which must have been painful for Dennis and for her cracked rib, and Bruce, whenever he could get his nose in, managed also to intrude his tongue. Fingers or plaster cast; he didn’t care.

  Ruby and Mellie had managed to find chairs, which they now surrendered to the two old ladies. There had been much whispering and nodding amongst the three of them, but now Adolphus held back. Amelia and I retreated, giving way to Ruby and Mellie, who clearly regretted having surrendered their chairs.

  Adolphus said, ‘I feel distinctly uncomfortable in a ward for women, Richard. There should surely be more privacy for them. It is all...shockingly intimate.’

  ‘There’s not much privacy for anybody in a hospital, I assure you.’

  ‘I cannot believe...’ He dabbed his forehead with the handkerchief he was still carrying. ‘I cannot accept that a man—a husband who has promised to cherish...cherish...’ He paused, dabbed his lips. ‘That any man could lay his hands on a woman, cause her suffering...’ He allowed it to tail away. Not only couldn’t he accept the facts, he couldn’t even discover words to meet the situation. ‘It is evil, of course,’ he went on, having found one. ‘Quite evil. Such persons should be punished.’

  ‘He has been, Adolphus,’ I said. ‘And what the devil are they whispering about?’

  Victoria and Alexandra were sitting one each side of the bed. Victoria held Helen’s good hand, and was shaking it gently, as though in emphasis. Alexandra had to hold a forearm, had to reach past Dennis’s head far enough, and resist Bruce’s efforts to climb past her on to the bed. Dennis was saying, ‘Oh yes, momma, yes.’

  I edged closer. Amelia, without a chair, was crouched down at Alexandra’s shoulder, shamelessly eavesdropping, and she was nodding, smiling a strangely vague smile. And Gerald was in dispute with Victoria.

  ‘Indeed,’ he was saying, ‘I claim the right. I could add my own deposition...’

  ‘But we have a most excellent man.’

  And Helen’s bright, dark eyes darted from one face to the other, whilst she tried not to smile too much in case it hurt. She attempted to bite her lip, but the two missing teeth hampered her.

  ‘What is it?’ I asked Amelia.

  She glanced round, impatient, not wishing to miss a word. ‘Hush, Richard.’

  ‘I will not hush. What’s going on?’ Heavens, I had a prior interest in anything involving Helen and Dennis.

  ‘They want Helen to go with them, Richard. To live with them. No...no. Don’t look like that. Not as a servant—as a companion. And there’s a mare for Helen to learn to ride, and a foal for Dennis to learn to ride, and...and...oh, a big man with a shotgun who guards the grounds.’

  ‘A gamekeeper.’

  ‘Yes, yes. He keeps the game that nobody’s allowed to shoot, and Gerald wants to handle the divorce, and they want their man to do it...Oh, and lots of things.’

  ‘Two solicitors? She could have two divorces,’ I suggested.

  ‘You do have these wonderful ideas, Richard.’ And she patted my cheek.

  ‘She could keep one in reserve,’ I explained.

  ‘Now don’t be silly. What does that mean?’

  I shrugged, my eyes on Helen. Such bright hope in her eyes! ‘If they were divorced, he’d come for her, and—’

  She shook my arm, her fingers digging painfully into my flesh. ‘They wouldn’t let him get near. And how would he know where to find her?’

  ‘Her address would be on the divorce petition.’

  She was frowning now. The assumption that I was simply playing around with my fantasies was being shattered. ‘You really mean this?’

  ‘I do. He would come for her—and she would leave with him.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Oh yes. She’s like that. Her husband’s a complete lout—hopeless. But she would go back to him. They do...they do.’

  She was annoyed with me. I could see it in her eyes. But—here—she had to control it. ‘That’s a philosophy of despair. You’re a cynic, Richard.’

  Trying to smile at her, I said, ‘You’re forgetting all those years I spent in the police force. Philosophy’s a theory. An acceptance. I’m a realist—and I know how people are.’

  ‘You make it sound...heavens, don’t you ever offer anybody h
ope?’

  ‘Oh yes. Yes. I’m on the watch for it all the while. Hope! It’s like a bright light. I’ll have a word with Gerald. He says he’s not an expert on matrimonial law, but he can look it all up. Divorce. And maybe there’re possibilities that her new address could go down as: unknown. Of no fixed address. I’ve seen that phrase used. Make no mistake, love, she’d be happy with what she’s being offered, probably immensely happy—and for Dennis it’d be a fresh start, with hope over the horizon. But Arnold Pierce must never be given the chance to discover where she is.’

  ‘And you...’ she exclaimed. ‘Criticizing Gerald for pontificating! You’d win a competition at it. First prize, a pedestal to stand on.’

  Her bitter little laugh wasn’t at all one of delight.

  ‘Though of course,’ I said, offering light where Amelia saw only darkness, ‘she needn’t apply for a divorce at all, then he’d never find her.’

  She eyed me askance, wondering how seriously she could now take me. ‘And if she met another man,’ she asked, ‘and wanted to get married again? What then?’

  And I realized that I’d not told her about Colin. But...women, women! Always, they see happy marriage ahead.

  ‘That,’ I said, ‘would be the time to divorce Pierce, and if her new man’s got any guts in him—and perhaps a shotgun under his arm—then Pierce wouldn’t be able to run away fast enough.’

  ‘You and your happy endings!’

  I made a mental note to advise Colin to buy a shotgun. Whatever these old dears wanted, I had a good idea where Helen would eventually be living.

  I grinned at her. A bell tinkled, and Adolphus said, ‘What’s that, Richard?’

  ‘It’s the leaving bell. Everybody out. And when the ward’s clear a whole gang of nurses swoop down on the beds, tidying, making sure nobody’s comfortable, so that all these poor ladies here can smile and present a happy and hygienic ward to the big boss: The Matron.’

  ‘Richard, you exaggerate.’ Adolphus smiled, somewhat grimly.

  ‘I’ve been told that I do.’

  ‘So we have to leave?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He went to say goodbye to the young lady he hoped would soon become the mascot of the household, and I said to Amelia, ‘Don’t forget Bruce. I’ll catch you up.’

  ‘Richard? What now?’

  I ran my hand through my hair. Time was running short. ‘I must have a quiet word with Helen. I’ll catch you up. A minute...please.’

  She looked at me doubtfully, and said, ‘They’ll throw you out, Richard.’

  ‘I know.’

  She smiled very thinly, and hurried after the others. I fell to my knees beside Helen’s bed, the more likely to be unobserved. ‘Do you remember me, Helen?’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘And...thank you.’ The missing teeth made her lisp a little.

  ‘I’m not here for thanks, love,’ I said. ‘Questions. Will you try to answer a few quick questions?’

  ‘Hmm!’

  I took that for agreement. ‘Tell me—how did you get to the houseboat?’

  She leaned forward, in order to whisper. I noticed that she had a length of string around her neck, hanging inside the hospital nightgown. I wondered what was on it. And guessed.

  ‘Clare,’ she said. ‘Clare took me in her car.’ She clearly didn’t yet know that Clare was dead. It was not the time to tell her that.

  ‘I know about Clare,’ I told her. ‘She took you in her car. Right. But...you didn’t take Dennis. Did you?’

  A spasm of pain twisted her lips for a moment, I didn’t know whether physical or emotional. ‘His...his father had him.’

  ‘Had him? How? Where?’

  ‘He’d...’ Her voice was dying. She reached up with her good hand to touch her lips. ‘He’d said I wasn’t fit to leave Dennis with.’

  ‘Not fit?’

  ‘He’d been hitting me.’

  How flatly she said that! No disgust, anger, complaint—a declaration of truth, like naked, chilled words spread out on a legal Statement of Facts.

  ‘And he took him—where?’

  ‘To the pub.’

  ‘Public house? A child?’

  ‘The yard behind it. They’d got an air pistol, and they were going to shoot rats.’

  A quick bob of my head revealed that the ward was now empty. I went on quickly, ‘So you had to leave Dennis behind?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And Ray and Clare promised to bring him to you?’

  This was my first mention to her of Ray, but she didn’t react to his name. Helen associated Clare with Ray; they were a linked partnership. It began to appear that they’d worked together on matters unofficial as well as official.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘They promised.’

  ‘And how long was it before they brought him? To you. At the boat.’

  Her eyes clouded at that. Time had ceased to have any meaning to her. ‘Ages and ages.’ She sighed heavily. ‘And ages.’

  ‘But didn’t Clare bring Dennis to you on the evening of the bad storm?’

  ‘Umm…’ She inclined her head, then she shook it. ‘It was Ray who brought him.’

  ‘And Arnold fetched him back—that same night?’

  ‘Storm?’ She was having to concentrate; her reactions were very slow. She blinked. ‘Yes. Then. I remember. Arnold hit me.’

  ‘I know, Helen, I know.’

  I realized then that I was losing her. But it wasn’t really surprising that she couldn’t think straight.

  ‘One more—’

  ‘Sir!’

  Oh hell, I thought. A huge and efficient-looking nurse was standing over me. I got to my feet. My knees were agonizing. I had wanted to ask Helen what was on the string round her neck.

  ‘Sorry nurse.’

  ‘You must leave...’

  ‘Leaving,’ I said contritely. ‘Right now.’ I turned to Helen and tried to smile. ‘We’ll come again.’

  Then I limped out. Kneeling is not my forte.

  ‘Richard!’ cried Amelia, waiting out there in the corridor. ‘What have you been doing?’

  ‘There were questions I had to ask, love, and I didn’t get much of a look-in with you lot arranging her life for her.’ I looked round. ‘Where are they all, anyway?’

  ‘They’ll be in the car park. They wouldn’t want to be seen with a man who’s been hiding in a women’s ward.’

  ‘And I don’t blame them, either.’

  She linked her arm in mine. ‘I gave Ruby the keys so that they could wait in the car, and out of the cold.’

  ‘I simply wanted—’

  ‘I know. To ask questions. You’ve explained that, Richard. I hope it was worth the risk, and you got your answers.’

  ‘I got answers that fitted with what I’d already guessed. I think of that as success.’

  We walked out into the car park. Everybody seemed to want to get out of there first, to beat the crush, and thereby creating it. I slowed my steps. Let them get on with it.

  From my right, Ray said, ‘Can I have a word, Mr Patton?’

  I turned, and he walked up to us. He was in uniform, was possibly on duty, and his new partner would be waiting impatiently in the patrol car.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Of course. But you’re on duty...’

  ‘It’ll only take a minute.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘I wanted to see Helen, but I couldn’t see her bed for you lot swarming all round it.’

  ‘See her?’

  ‘I told you I’m fond of her. Fond, Mrs Patton. Amelia, isn’t it? Yes. Fond. And interested in her—what she’s had to put up with. How she’s stuck it out. Mellie doesn’t understand.’

  Amelia’s smile was more like a grimace. ‘She wouldn’t. She’d expect all your interest to be centred on her.’

  I could have explained to Ray that although a man can admire a woman whilst loving another, he should not expect to be understood.

  ‘She’s improving rapidly,’ I told him. �
��But I’d keep away, if I were you. Leave it to Colin.’

  ‘Yeah. I suppose.’ He suddenly grinned. ‘You got Denny all right, anyway.’

  ‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘I got him.’ And I wondered how he knew that. I hadn’t noticed him around when we’d brought the lad back to Flight House.

  ‘Good.’ It seemed to satisfy him, because he moved away quickly through the tangle of cars.

  Amelia tugged at my arm. ‘And what had you already guessed?’ she asked. ‘You said you got answers that fitted what you’d already guessed.’

  ‘Ah yes.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘I just put two and two together. D’you remember, when Gerald and I got back to Flight House with Dennis—Gerald had him on his lap, in the car. I’d got the driver’s door open, and I reached over, and Gerald slid the lad across. Then I slammed the car door with my hip—leaving the keys in the ignition. Don’t you see?’

  ‘No, Richard. They’re all waiting for us.’ She tugged at my arm.

  ‘There’s no hurry. Let the crush ease out. It must have been what Clare did, you see, on the night we found her car, left just like that. I thought perhaps she’d been lifting out groceries. But it wasn’t that. It was something she couldn’t put down on the ground. It had to be Dennis. Clare taking him to her sister, Helen. Clare lifting him out, but Helen says it was Ray who delivered Dennis to her. If that matters.’

  ‘Richard! oh!—I’ve just realized. Helen couldn’t know her sister’s dead! Oh heavens!’

  ‘Yes. She couldn’t know.’ But I guessed that Colin had been to see her, though it was unlikely he would tell her that. ‘But love, you’re not concentrating. If Ray took Dennis to Helen at the time of the storm, or just after it’d finished, and Dennis wasn’t on that houseboat the next morning, when I happened to find Helen and his father had him: then...how did he know where to go to fetch him?’

  ‘You and your puzzles! Work it out for yourself, Richard.’

  ‘Yes, love. I’ll try to do that,’ I said meekly, and she gave me a quick glance, her lips pursed.

  We reached our car. The Rolls had disappeared, Jenkins now knowing the route. They hadn’t waited for us.