by M A Comley
Katy was tempted to step in to calm the situation down, but any copper worth their salt opened their ears and shut their mouths when an argument kicked off. It was always a surprise to hear what ended up being revealed in anger.
“I wish you’d stayed away, if that’s your attitude. It’s not like you loved him at all, is it?”
Penny’s jaw dropped. She recovered within a few seconds and leaned in to her sister. “And we both know why that is, don’t we? When are you going to realise what a bastard he was, Nadia?”
“Stop it! Not here, not when we’re about to bury the poor man.”
“Poor man! You’re having a sodding laugh.” Penny’s voice had risen, attracting the attention of the crowd.
“Maybe you should both calm down a bit. Leave this discussion until the service has ended,” Katy finally interjected.
Both sisters glared at her interference. Katy smiled, trying to deflect the irate glares Penny and Nadia were directing at her.
Finally, Penny sighed. “She’s right. This conversation can wait. We’d better get inside, the vicar is waiting for us.”
Katy glanced at the church doorway to find a young vicar welcoming the mourners into his domain.
“Don’t think this is the end of it, Penny,” Nadia snapped through gritted teeth.
Katy and Charlie held back so the others could get seated first.
Katy turned her back on the mourners and whispered, “They both seem on edge. We’ll keep a close eye on them during the service.”
Charlie nodded. “Should we try and sit closer to them, in order for us to do that?”
“No, I think we’ll be better off sitting at the rear. That way we can oversee everything that is happening in front of us.”
“Good idea.”
“Come on, it’s time for us to go in before they carry the coffin in.”
They chose to sit on the right-hand side, in the final pew. There were several pews empty ahead of them, but Katy stuck to her decision to sit at the back and observe.
The music started up, and four pallbearers carried the coffin down the aisle and settled it on a couple of trestles near the altar. The vicar was very complimentary about the victim during his service. Katy kept a close eye on Penny and Nadia throughout. Penny remained upright, but Nadia held her head low at all times. There were a few eulogies read, one by a work colleague—actually, it was Crawford’s boss who took up the role. The second one was read out by Nadia. Throughout the reading she came across as a sincere and loving daughter. Katy noticed the way Penny shook her head constantly during her sister’s speech.
But it was after the service that things really became interesting. The same four men carried the coffin out to its final resting place. The hole had been dug, and the coffin was lowered into the ground. Penny and Nadia stood next to each other, a few feet apart, acting like strangers rather than siblings. For some reason this upset Katy. The sisters should be supporting each other not falling out, bickering.
Katy and Charlie stood opposite the sisters and scanned the crowd at regular intervals. Most of the mourners were men, with the exception of a few women dotted around here and there. Katy couldn’t help wondering if some of the women were the ones Penny had referred to, who had once upon a time shared their father’s bed, if only for the night.
The pallbearers seemed to be gathered in one area, all appearing to be the same age, similar to that of Bruce Crawford, which made Katy wonder if they’d been lifelong chums and even gone to school with one another. Maybe she should interview them afterwards.
“How are you holding up?” Katy whispered to Charlie.
“Bored out of my mind but doing fine, you?”
“The same. Keep vigilant, you never know. One of those present here today could be our killer. It’s not unheard of for the guilty party to attend the funeral, it’s happened in a few of the cases I’ve dealt with over the years.”
“Hard to believe. I’ll keep an eye open.”
Katy’s attention returned to studying the sisters. Nadia went from having her chin settled on her chest to surveying the crowd. Now and then, Katy spotted her eyes narrowing a little and couldn’t help wondering why. As usual, she had the feeling there was more to this woman than met the eye. She just couldn’t figure out what it could be. Was she the killer? Had she left the hospital that night, worn a disguise, done the deed, and then run back to her car and pretended to arrive home to find her father still breathing? The more that scenario raced through her head, the more she thought it conceivable—or was it? She had conflicting ideas. One second she thought she was doing the nurse an injustice, the next she had her nailed as the bloody killer who had, up until now, smartly covered her tracks.
Once the vicar invited the mourners to throw soil or a flower onto the coffin and say a few words to send Crawford’s spirit on its way, the two sisters stood together to say farewell to those who had shown up and thank them for attending.
“I take it there’s not going to be a wake,” Charlie said out of the corner of her mouth.
“So it would appear. I suppose the cost would come into it, and if Penny has dug her heels in, it would be left up to Nadia to meet those costs. No idea how she afforded this when she said she didn’t have any money, you know, at the beginning when we were discussing her moving into a hotel for a few days.”
“She did. Fair enough. What next?”
“We wait until everyone has gone. Maybe we should split up, listen to a couple of the conversations, see if we glean anything from them.”
“I’m up for it.” Charlie set off.
Katy stepped closer to the sisters who were shaking hands with an elderly man and his wife.
“So very sorry for your loss, girls. Your father will be missed terribly at work, he was well-liked, as you can see from the turnout you’ve had today. We closed the firm for the day to allow the whole workforce to pay their respects.”
“Thanks for coming.” Nadia smiled tightly at the man. “It must have come as a shock to you and your colleagues. Did you know he wasn’t well?”
The man’s brow furrowed. “No, no I didn’t.”
Nadia nodded. “Neither did we, he kept the cancer from us.”
“Cancer? Oh my goodness, surely not.”
“It’s true. He’d even had chemo and didn’t tell us.”
“But you’re a nurse, aren’t you, dear?” the man’s wife asked.
“Yes. I don’t know what he was thinking. Maybe he thought he was indestructible and didn’t want to burden us. It was a shock when the police made us aware of the situation.”
“I can only imagine what you poor girls went through,” the man’s wife said, seeming genuinely upset by the news.
“It is what it is. At the end of the day, I think it’s proved what a complex person our father was. To have held on to a secret as great as that and neither of us recognising the change in him.”
“I wouldn’t have known either way, living in Scotland,” Penny piped up.
Nadia chose to ignore her sister’s input into the conversation. Penny kicked out at a stone at her feet, appearing to suppress the anger bubbling inside her.
Katy stepped closer as the queue grew smaller. The pallbearers were next. One by one, they apologised to the girls for not being there when they needed them the most, or when their father had needed them in recent years.
Nadia nodded but kept her mouth shut, and Penny did the same. The air surrounding them was one of extreme awkwardness. The men hurried past and gathered in the car park. Four men, no female company, all appearing to be uncomfortable in their surroundings.
Katy held her hand out to shake Nadia’s and then Penny’s. “Thank you for allowing us to attend today. I’m sorry we haven’t got any positive news to share with you regarding your father’s case. I put out an appeal to the general public a few days ago, but we’ve been disappointed by the lack of information we’ve received to date.”
“It is what it is. I’m sure you’re
doing your best, Inspector,” Penny replied.
Nadia remained quiet, lost in thought.
“I hope to be in touch with some good news soon,” Katy responded.
“Keep us informed,” Nadia said, her tone flat and dismissive.
“Of course we will.” Katy held the woman’s gaze for a while before moving on.
She and Charlie marched back to the car, slowing down as they got closer to the pallbearers who were all looking their way for some reason.
“That was strange, wasn’t it?” Charlie noted once they were back in the car.
“Yep, it has to be up there for awkward moment of the century, I’ll grant you that. I’m getting the distinct impression there’s still more to this case than meets the eye but I’ll be buggered if I know what. I was hoping running the appeal would flood us with clues to chase up. It didn’t. So where the fuck do we go now?” She turned the engine over and drove out of the church’s car park ahead of the rest of the cars.
“You sound defeated.”
“Truthfully? I feel it. I hate the fact a man has lost his life and no one is behind bars yet. That can’t be right, can it?”
“I know, but if the clues or evidence aren’t there, what do you suggest we do, plant it?”
Katy twisted her head sharply towards her partner. “I would never do that, Charlie, and I’m mortified that you would suggest such a despicable thing.”
“Sorry, it came out wrong…or maybe it didn’t. Oh, I don’t know. I suppose I’m just as frustrated about this investigation as you are. Does this type of thing happen often?”
Katy smiled, accepting her apology. “Once in a blue moon. All cases can have levels of frustration thrown into the mix, I guess. But to have nothing after a week is beyond me. We’ve done as much digging as we possibly can. I’m surprised Karen isn’t speaking to us from a station in Australia by now.”
“You can imagine it, can’t you? Her sitting at a desk in the Outback somewhere, having a conversation with a gathering of kangaroos trying to get something out of them.”
“That does summon up a hilarious image. Talking of which, do you know the correct term for a group of kangas?”
“Is there one? I’ve never really thought about it before. Go on, don’t tell me this is another one of your off-the-wall facts you’re going to fling at me?”
“It is. Get this, it’s either a mob, troop or court of kangaroos. Can you believe the last one? You’ve heard of a kangaroo court before, right?”
“Yeah, of course I have. Seems bizarre to be connected.”
“That’s what I thought. Anyway, I thought I’d brighten your day with that little gem, I only learnt about it last week.”
“I bet you never thought that fact would see the light of day, eh?”
They both laughed, relieving the tension that had descended.
4
“We’ll see you later, Dale. Have a good evening.”
“Thanks, the wife and I are visiting friends tonight for a catch-up. See you tomorrow.” Dale waved at the group of teacher colleagues and climbed into his car. He drove through the country lanes back to his cottage on autopilot, mulling over some of the lessons he’d given during the day, mostly furious by the lack of response to his questions from his students. What he wouldn’t give for a group of youngsters craving to learn more, eager to bombard him with questions, no matter how trivial or mundane they sounded, and yet he got nothing. The students of today just weren’t the same as they had once been in the past.
Leading him to wonder at times whether his own standards had slipped. Or was their lack of response due to them being deficient in any form of interest in learning full stop? He feared it was the latter and prayed it wasn’t the former. If that ever happened, he’d chuck in the towel and retire immediately. Now that’s a thought! At fifty-five, could I? He vowed to speak to his good friend, Simon, who was also his financial advisor, to run the idea past him. But then, raising that subject in his mind led him off in a different direction. Could he bear to stay at home all day with Adele, his wife of twenty-five years?
His attention was drawn to a car travelling behind him. It was closer than he felt comfortable with. Maybe up the road he’d pull over to allow the vehicle to pass. The driver was clearly in a hurry. Around the next bend, he slowed down and indicated. He turned into the next available road and let the car pass. The movement went without a hitch, no angry blast on the horn from the driver, nothing.
He continued on his journey. His house was only a couple of miles away. Time to ring Adele, tell her he was not too far from home. That way she’d have a nice cold beer waiting for him for when he walked through the back door.
Another sharp bend up ahead. He pressed his foot gently on the brake and eased around the curve. “What the…bloody idiot, what in God’s name is he doing standing there like that?”
He slammed the brakes on and drew the car to a halt. In front of him, the driver who had not long passed him had angled his car across the lane, effectively blocking all traffic from both directions.
Dale opened his car door and got out. He leaned on the top. “What’s the meaning of this? Kindly move your vehicle so I can get past. I have a very important meeting I have to attend this evening, and you’re holding me up.”
The figure refused to move an inch. Arms folded, leaning against the bonnet.
“Hey, you, did you hear me? Are you deaf or something? Move your damn car. Now.”
Again, the driver didn’t respond. By this time, Dale was beginning to get a stirring in his stomach, signifying that something was wrong. He cast an eye over his shoulder, pondered whether he had it in him to reverse all the way back to the road he’d pulled in for this person to pass him.
When he turned back to face the person, he found them standing within a foot of him. The stranger was dressed in a hoodie, their features masked by the excess fabric shielding their face.
Fear knotted his intestines. He really wasn’t one for confrontation of any kind, even in the classroom with his students. Was this one of them? Were they doing this to get their kicks?
Instead of speaking, the stranger took two steps forward. They were barely six inches away now. Dale was glad the door was between them. His inquisitive nature got the better of him. He peered into the darkness of the fabric to try to see who the devil was haunting him like this. It proved to be a pointless task.
“You’ve had your fun, now let me pass if you will?”
The stranger shook their head and withdrew a long implement from their pocket. Making out what the item was, Dale backed away from the car. The driver remained where they were, adding to his trepidation.
What the hell does this individual want from me? Should I ask them or should I just run and take my chances that I’ll outrun them? Although, I’m not as fit as I used to be, and they seem pretty agile to me. Shit! What do I do? Someone give me a sign, telling me what to do, for God’s sake.
He attempted to get a conversation going between them again. “Please, I don’t want any trouble. Is there something I can do for you?”
A growl left the stranger’s mouth, and they stepped around the door and into his personal space once more. “You can die,” came the person’s sinister response.
“Wha…t? You can’t mean that? I can’t die now, I’m too young. We can work this out, if only you’d tell me what you want.”
“Die! Die! Die!”
That one word was enough for Dale to want to take off. Fearing he wouldn’t have enough time to get in his car and turn it around, he turned and hot-footed it down the lane, trying to think of a shortcut he could take across the fields to get to his house which was within spitting distance of where he was.
No, I’ll be better off sticking to the main road. At least there’s a chance of someone driving past.
Footsteps behind him. Petrified, he refused to peer over his shoulder, his fear forcing his legs to work. His mind whirred with horrendous ways in which the stranger could hur
t him.
Die! I don’t want to die. I have too much to live for. Adele and my five kids need me. I don’t want to die. Please, don’t let me die!
A pain erupted in his shoulder. “What the…? No, please, don’t do this.”
Yet another strike from his pursuant; this time the implement hit his right arm. He didn’t cry out, as much as he wanted to. He refused to give the stranger the satisfaction of knowing they’d hurt him. No, he carried on running, his breath catching in his throat every time the assailant struck. Another stab, this time in his back. With each strike, his legs grew weaker. He stumbled as his foot slithered into a pothole. He’d tried to avoid it, but his vision had blurred and failed him at the last minute.
Shit! I don’t have it in me to continue. I’m going to die! They’re relentless, I can’t make them stop. I have to make them see what they’re doing is wrong, but how?
He stopped running and held his hands out in front of him to ward off any further attack. It was futile. The person ran at him, yelled out and stabbed his upper body over and over with the ice pick. Intense pain ripped through his body. Dale’s legs buckled. He shook his head and stared up at the attacker standing over him.
“Please, tell me what I’ve done to deserve this?”
Instead of replying, the aggressor raised their arm and pounded the implement into his chest, over and over, each stab sending a searing heat through his upper torso.
“Don’t do this. I have five kids. Adele and the kids rely on me. Without me, they won’t survive. Think about it, please, I’m too young to die.”
The assailant’s arm raised above their head and, in what appeared to be slow motion, the ice pick came towards his face. He grappled behind him, searching for some kind of rock to use as a weapon, but there was nothing within reach. He used his arms to pull his body along the road, his legs weakly pushing him. He stared down at his chest, his white shirt stained with deep-red patches. He was doomed. He might as well give up, his strength was virtually non-existent now. His arms gave way beneath him. Crushed, he lay on the ground and stared up. His breath allowed one more attempt to save his life.