A Corpse Called Bob

by Benedict Brown

  “We are gathered here this morning to celebrate the life of one we held so dearly in our hearts.” The grin on Will’s face showed that he knew exactly what he was there to do and would enjoy every moment of it.

  As he started in on his spiel, I looked around the crowd. I recognised the majority of the people there from work so, either Bob had very few friends, or he’d planned this whole thing for our benefit. There was no sign of Jack, but Wendy was already making her presence felt. Her head rested despondently on Pauline from accounts’ shoulder, she let out a rhythmic high-pitch whine, like an over-emotional car alarm.

  Loitering by the bushes at the back of the audience, D.I.s Irons and Brabazon were observing the ceremony. I couldn’t help but wonder where they’d got to in their investigation.

  “Philanthropist, humanitarian, amateur poet and Croydon-based financial expert, the kind-hearted chap we all knew as ‘Bob’ was a man of many talents.” Will continued to recite from the pre-prepared, self-celebratory text. “Taken from us so prematurely, it is a terrible sadness that he will never get to fulfil his true potential. His close friend and colleague Ramesh Khatri, is going to start the service by reading one of Bob’s own compositions.”

  From his seat at the back of the stage, Ramesh looked over at me pleadingly before rising. His head bowed, he went to join Will at the microphone. Standing together, the brothers in white looked like a bad R&B duo.

  “This poem is called The Loneliness of the Middle Manager.” He sought me out in the crowd for encouragement, then put his eyes down and began to read.

  “We have left behind the daylight.

  We have walked towards the night.

  We have lost our sense of wonder,

  Though we know it isn’t right.”

  It turned out that my friend was not a natural public speaker. I can’t imagine Bob would have cared. He’d only chosen Ramesh for the reading because he knew it would upset him. He cantered through the lines, and, though I hated the fact that my best friend in the world was suffering up on that stage, I really wished he’d put a bit more expressiveness in his voice. Is there anything quite so jarring as bad poetry being read out badly?

  “The abyss in which we enter,

  Like a cold, and cruel November,

  Is the absence of all heart.

  It’s the place from which we start.

  But as we must all learn,

  It’s to there we will return.”

  There was some polite applause as Ramesh let out a troubled sigh but the poem wasn’t over. His anger at having to read out Bob’s self-indulgent musings could easily be mistaken for sorrow at our old boss’s departure.

  “Greatness isn’t chosen,

  It’s thrust upon those most beholden,

  To the burden of responsibility,

  The ones who look out for you and me.

  Who strive towards another day,

  And always do it their own way.”

  As Ramesh read the final line, twelve doves, all as white as his suit, launched into the sky from behind the stage. It was too much for Bob’s wife Selina who, breaking down in tears at the spectacle her dead husband had provided, pulled her daughters up to standing and disappeared stage right. Amara and her children followed out soon after, waving apologetically to the people they passed.

  Beside me, David did not look happy to be a witness to any of this. His jaw was fixed in a permanent clench and his tightly closed fists had scrunched up his trousers. At least he wouldn’t have to sit there much longer.

  Will returned to the lectern to introduce the next speaker. “We’re lucky to have Mr David Hughes with us today. David is the director of the firm where Bob worked for the last three decades. I think if we give him a nice round of applause, he might just come up here to share his remembrances of the great man.”

  David didn’t hesitate as Ramesh had. He walked straight to the front and mounted the stage. Will selected a white card to hand him before stepping aside with a smile. He was having a great time, and was no doubt eager to discover where David’s speech would lead.

  Standing in front of the lectern, David looked at his prompts for a moment then smiled almost nostalgically. “It says here that Bob was a unique, capable and intelligent man and I think we can all agree with that.” There was a determination to his voice that was at odds with his usual relaxed tone. He paused and looked around the faces of those present then tore the card in two. “But I think I’d prefer to describe him in my own words.”

  There was a murmur of surprise from the mourners around me.

  “I’m very sorry that Bob died in such a violent fashion. I’m sorry that his kids lost their father and for everything that his wife must be going through. At the same time, I’m not going to stand here and make out that Bob Thomas was a saint.

  “If Selina and the children had been able to tolerate more than a few minutes of this sick display, I might have held my tongue. But I think there’s been enough politeness for one morning so I’d prefer to tell the truth.”

  David’s eyes scanned slowly round from one side of the audience to the other. “I’ve been working in the financial sector for over fifteen years and I’ve met some really nasty people in that time. Only a tiny minority, of course, but I’ve had bosses who ruled through intimidation, colleagues who liked to pick on the weakest to boost their egos and met plenty of guys who thought that putting on an expensive suit was a licence to harass and objectify the women they worked with. Bob Thomas was worse than all of them.”

  That was the line that really got the crowd going. The attentive silence was shattered as the forty or so attendees responded with a collective gasp. Whispered comments spread along the rows of chairs like leaves blowing in the wind and Wendy’s wailing alarm fired up once more.

  “The fact that he put his own family through this morbid spectacle says a lot about Bob. He only ever thought of himself. The whole reason we’re here today is because he decided that it was more important to have one last dig at his colleagues than for his loved ones to have the dignified send-off they deserve.

  “Bob had been sick for some months before he died and instead of spending that time with the people who loved him, he wrote out this awful script that I’m supposed to be reading from, searched for a company that could provide doves for special occasions, pre-booked a PA system and no doubt auditioned the string quartet down by there.”

  Facing the audience in his seat on the stage, Ramesh’s face was sketched over with a mix of shock, respect and immense joy.

  And still David hadn’t finished. “I can agree that Bob was unique because he’s the only person I’ve ever met who instinctively knew how to get under the skin of everyone around him. He was capable too, of cruelty, selfishness, bigotry and arrogance. And, yes, he was intelligent but he never used that great big brain that he was so proud of to help anyone but himself.”

  The only thing in my head right then was how proud I was of David. Boyfriend or boss, he was doing the right thing. He took a deep breath and I could see that he was about to deliver his parting blow.

  “Bob was a bully. Countless people suffered because of his actions. The only thing I should be coming up here to say is how sorry I am that I didn’t do more to protect you from him.”

  With his piece said, he got down from the stage. Will watched him go with genuine wonder in his eyes and started to applaud. About half the audience joined in, the rest sat stunned, still trying to process what had just occurred. As David went to commiserate with Ramesh, Will took to the mic once more.

  “I’d like to thank everyone for coming. I think this spectacular occasion would have surpassed even Bob’s expectations.”

  The awkward hush that followed was interrupted by Bob’s string quartet. The four musicians looked just as unnerved as their audience. Like their counterparts on the Titanic, they battled on regardless. A windswept rendition of Pachelbel’s Canon soared around me as the congregation rose.

  It was time for
Wendy to burst out in tears again. “None of you knew him. Not like I did!” She shuffled to a spot in front of the stage and looked around the congregation accusingly. I noticed that the two inspectors at the back were watching her with interest. “Sure, he wasn’t perfect, none of us are. But Bob had heart. Bob was an original. I don’t care what you thought of him. He was a bigger man than anyone here.”

  Will couldn’t let that one go and stepped back up to the microphone.

  “A fact that no one can deny and yet another stirring tribute to our fallen comrade.”

  David shot him a look which I could see meant I’ll see you in my office this afternoon.

  I walked over to join him and Ramesh led the two of us back down the path towards town. The rest of the mourners trailed along behind chattering loudly, any pretence of funereal discretion was long since abandoned. Taking his cowboy hat from his head, Ramesh sent it spinning through the air over the heath. For about fifteen seconds, the sun peeped out from its home behind the clouds to make my heart smile. It was true what Amara had said about Bob. In death he’d become a victim but David had put that right.

  “How about we get a drink tonight?” he asked me.

  I didn’t have to think long. “I’d love to.”

  I’d been nervous that the relationship we were embarking upon could only exist outside the office. I was dreading the conversation we’d have and the ultimatum I’d make to get him to acknowledge me in front of our friends and co-workers. And I was pretty much resigned to the fact that such pressure would most likely backfire and lead to him breaking up with me. Except that wasn’t how it happened. David took my hand to swing our arms like we were on holiday together. Right there, fifteen metres in front of Wendy and Pauline and their bitchy buddies, he confirmed our new loved-up status.

  Bob’s fake-funeral trap had failed. Walking along with my best friend and my bossfriend, the world seemed like a good place to be. With the sound of the classical music floating down to us, it was like the shiny, happy ending to a movie.

  Sadly though, it wasn’t. We were only about two thirds of the way through and things were about to go a whole new shade of dark. Of course, I didn’t know that then and, for a few moments, – before it started raining and we had to bomb it back down to the car park, dripping wet – I was full to the brim with happiness.

  “Actually, I should probably get my hat back.” Ramesh’s own cheesy grin was replaced with an uncertain look. “It might be bad for the environment or something.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The mood in the office that afternoon was predictably stifled. Those who hadn’t attended the memorial would have heard all about it and, whenever David stepped from his office, fifty pairs of eyes flicked across at him curiously.

  Will got the telling off that he was due for. After a bit of muffled shouting from David’s room, the lead consultant emerged looking chastened. Whatever had been said, he managed to keep his job at least. Apparently there’s nothing in the Porter & Porter rules against facilitating a member of senior management’s dying wish to humiliate his colleagues in an elaborate memorial service.

  Wendy didn’t come back in that day, whereas Jack seemed pretty upbeat, sitting in his cupboard giggling along to YouTube. It was Amara’s behaviour that I found strangest. When we’d had our chat, she hadn’t mentioned any connection to Bob’s family, yet she was clearly close to Selina and their kids all knew one another. Perhaps she’d helped Bob’s wife do him in. There was nothing to say that the hard drives were taken at the same time as Bob was murdered. If Selina had done the deed, Amara could have popped by after bedtime to cover her tracks. It was yet another hypothesis to add to Mum’s list.

  When my gruelling 9-5:30 was over, David and I walked down to the Boxpark – Croydon’s premiere leisure and dining complex – to have a drink in the Cronx Brewery. Most people there looked far too cool for me to be in the same bar as. It was just the kind of place I normally avoided out of fear that everyone would point and laugh at me for ordering the wrong drink. With David beside me, I didn’t care what they thought.

  He ordered a pint of IPA and didn’t give me a hard time when I told him I wanted a lemonade.

  “So, we’ve gone through all the typical first stages of a relationship.” His eyes glowed like neon under the retro-industrial lighting. “A trip to the police station to ensure your friend wasn’t done for murder…”

  I was already laughing before we’d found a table. “Yep and the denouncement of a co-worker at his own memorial service.”

  “That’s right. I wonder what we’ve got to look forward to next.”

  There were no tables free, so we sat on some stools beside what basically amounted to a plank fixed to the wall. It felt like we were being punished at school for being naughty.

  “Perhaps we should do something a bit wilder and go for dinner and a movie?”

  David sipped from his proper grownup drink. “Go easy. I had no idea you were so adventurous.”

  Smile smile smile, laugh laugh laugh. Sorry if this is making anyone nauseous. We clearly made an astoundingly cute couple though. David, with his traditionally handsome looks, and me, with my eyes and a face.

  I’ve never been the type to get all worked up about a bloke so soon but I’d already liked David – at least in a casual, ahhh, isn’t he nice way – for years and we seemed to click for some reason. For example, and here’s a rare thing for a date, I actually agreed with his opinions on stuff. He was funny without being super show-offy and genuinely kind-hearted, not just acting that way to get into my pants.

  As we sat chatting beside our beautiful wall plank, I found things in common with him that I would’ve never expected. Both David and I played the accordion as children, (how cool were we?) Neither of us had ever broken a bone and we’d both always planned to eventually at some point visit Scotland when we got round to it in the future one day. But most importantly of all – and please stop me if this sounds like a shockingly high expectation in a relationship – we both enjoyed one another’s company.

  The bar was so packed that we were squished up close together – and against the old beardy bloke sitting next to me – so David got to do a fair bit of flirty shoulder touching. I responded by playing with my long hair seductively, until I realised that it looked like I was trying to untangle a knot so I stopped.

  When we’d finished a second drink, the weather was… well… not raining, so we decided we’d avoid a busy tram journey and walk. Out in the Boxpark, Croydon’s thriving social hub was busier than ever with big groups of teenagers crowding in for a grime gig. As I stood waiting for David to reappear from the bathroom, I watched the distinct groups mixing in the central concourse. Over in the Blue Orchid Bar, the town’s only official gay night was getting started and its early attendees were filling up the gaps between businessmen and locals on the tables outside. A Crystal Palace match would soon be projected on the big screen and half of the rest of the crowd were dressed in red and blue. All Croydon life was there and seeing the diversity my birthplace had to offer gave me a warm feeling inside.

  It didn’t last long as, just then, I saw Porter & Porter’s very own rabid pooch stalking about the lower concourse. We caught sight of one another at the same moment and he looked even less happy to see me than normal.

  “Is that Will over there?” David asked as he rejoined me but our colleague had already blended into a throbbing crowd of teens. “I wonder where he’s off to. I wouldn’t imagine him as a grime fan.”

  I took David’s hand and we started towards the exit. “What kind of music do sadistic yuppies normally listen to?”

  “Oh come on, he’s not that bad. When I spoke to him this afternoon, he promised that he didn’t think anyone would be upset by Bob’s last joke. He said he was just trying to honour his friend’s dying wishes.”

  We’d emerged back out on George Street and I stopped and looked at him to see if he was serious. “How did you ever get anywhere in business bei
ng so trusting?”

  He didn’t reply. He put his arm around me and we began the journey home.

  The Croydon suburbs didn’t exactly sparkle in the fading light, but they were prettier than you might imagine. We peeked into the big houses along Addiscombe Road and (sorry, I know I’m dreadful) I wondered if David was wealthy enough to buy one. We spotted a little family all playing together in their front lounge and he smiled at me as if to say, yeah, this is obviously ridiculous and we know very little about one another except for that accordion thing, but still, it would be nice, wouldn’t it?

  When we got to the turn for David’s house, I didn’t want the evening to end so I walked one block out of my way in order to stay with him a bit longer.

  “I like you more each time I see you.” That swine! How could he say something like that? He’d ruined all other men for me. What if we broke up after a couple of weeks and I had to find someone else? My life might as well be over.

  Instead of replying, I did that weird laugh that made me sound like I was choking. Standing on the corner of his street, with our eyes locked together and our hands entwined, I didn’t need words. I bent down really not very far at all and kissed him. Kiss number two blew kiss number one out of the ocean. Kiss number two made kiss number one seem like a peck on the cheek from my great uncle. Kiss number two told kiss number one that she was going solo and, in that very same moment, became a world famous rock star.

  I opened my eyes half way through, to make sure that I wasn’t overestimating the power of that kiss, but he was just as into it as I was. His hands were all over my back – not like he was checking me for a concealed weapon – he was soft and confident at the same time. I discovered new muscles in my tongue that I’m pretty sure I’d never used before and my head fizzed like I was getting a full body massage from eight different pairs of hands.

  “I think you’re amazing,” I told him when we came up for air.