Threadbare

by Malcolm Hollingdrake

  ***

  Cyril met Julie at the corner of Robert Street before heading towards L’Albero Delle Noci at the bottom of Cheltenham Parade. As the evening was warm, they called for a drink at The Little Ale House. Julie found two seats outside while Cyril went to the bar. Before long, even though they had assured themselves that shop talk was banned, the conversation turned to the case. Over the time they had been together, Cyril had grown to trust Julie’s judgement and now she was Mrs Bennett he felt as though he could share more of his daily dealings with her. The gin and tonic was just perfect and the conversation flowed. She was fascinated by the threads, the items from the various sites being swapped and linking the different murders.

  “It’s certainly not threadbare. It’s as if the person is leading you to the next victim and the way I see it that’s clearly intentional. The question is, my handsome man, why would he do such a thing?”

  “To give them a sporting chance, which is more than they gave the animals they were involved with maybe? Interestingly, and I’m sure you can see this from their records held at your department, they were all made to suffer in some way. The use of the weapon, in Lyons’s case, was more bizarre than the others. Each attack was deliberate and the perpetrator would know that it wouldn’t bring instant death if done correctly. The last victim, Humphrey, might have been the exception, as according to Caner, the damage to the brain would result in a quick death.”

  Julie nodded. “Had the shot hit the man’s face or mouth, then you would have seen a good deal of suffering, but then it would not necessarily have brought about his death. Clearly the motive is to kill. You also said that had the officer arrived sooner, the situation might have been very different. On this occasion the killer just needed to carry out his plan and leave.”

  They walked down towards the restaurant. Umberto, the front of house, welcomed them like long lost friends. He kissed Julie with all the Sicilian gestures offering his congratulations on becoming Mrs Bennett. “Tonight, the meal is on the house. I reserve you the quiet table.” He clapped his hands and a waiter brought an ice bucket and a bottle of Prosecco. He opened the bottle and poured two and a half glasses. Handing one to each he collected the token coupe that contained only enough to toast the couple. “Matrimoni e vescovati sono destinati dal cielo,” he announced as the glasses rang. “Or as you say here, ‘bottom’s up!’ But I never understand this, no.”

  ***

  Ted Bostock rode the quad bike across the field to the gate. Within minutes he was heading back towards the farm. He fancied a pint; it had been a long day. The sheep were all where they should be and he could relax.

  Trevor Bostock walked across the footpath and waited by the narrow track, one hand resting on the dry stone wall. The lichen and grey stone surface retained the heat from the day even though the sun was now silhouetting the horizon. In an hour it would be dark. His other hand held a broad wooden staff, his thumb curled through the ‘V’ at the top. Crows called, breaking the silence rising from the copse of trees set well into the field, as if to signal the sound of the quad that was now just becoming audible. He raised himself, leaned further onto the wall and caught a glimpse of his brother as he drove quickly across the undulating grass. Belinda was correct and he did not have to wait long. He did not move but waited patiently, a skill he had learned in the army. Everything comes to those who wait … everything he thought as the figure and machine grew larger by the minute.

  ***

  As usual, Leonard had taken his tablet and the glass of warm milk to his room but on this day, his birthday, he was not going to take his medicine. The milk, however, was welcome. He heard the slight continuous mumble coming from the radio downstairs. Talking. All she seemed to listen to was people talking. He flicked the wink with the squidger and it shot straight into the pot. It was almost automatic. The four others lined up in a row followed, one after the other. His thoughts were totally wrapped up in the large snake and the name Lilly kept coming to his lips every time the wink hit the pot.

  He put the things on the shelf where they were always placed, took his trousers and pulled them over his pyjama bottoms. The pyjama leg rolled awkwardly up his left leg as he struggled to get them on. He removed the trousers and pulled down the offending leg before stuffing both into the top of his socks. He tried again, this time successfully. Pulling out a cardigan he slipped that over his pyjama top before buttoning it. The buttons and the holes did not match up but it was neither uncomfortable nor a problem. He slipped into bed ensuring the covers were pulled up to his neck. He listened and waited. The slight drone from below continued into the evening.

  ***

  Ted saw the figure and his heart beat a little faster. He screwed up his eyes to try to focus more fully and opened the throttle. A single dog was positioned expertly on the box on the back, momentarily losing its balance with the change of speed but then quickly it regained its equilibrium. Trevor waved the staff as the quad approached and within a minute Ted realised who it was. He slowed as he approached and Trevor moved away from the wall, blocking the path. The dog leapt from the box and ran forward. A single whistle stopped it and it lowered, its focus directed on the man in the road.

  “Good evening, brother. Still see you have my Terrier box attached to this old quad.”

  Ted flicked the lid of the front box but it was empty. “I do what I like on my own land. I protect it from the likes of you and the bloody evil bastards who know fuck all about living and working in the countryside. They think it’s a bloody playground, a killing ground for their pleasure. You’re one of the bloody worst. Tell us why you left the army.” He paused and leaned forward on the handlebars. “You’re no brother of mine. You chose a different path in life. You took, put nothing in and buggered off. According to Dad you gave nobody nowt apart from bloody grief.”

  “Your lass, Belinda, wouldn’t say that, nor a few others in the area. Shame about Peterson … Did you do it? Find out and killed him in a jealous rage? Found out he was a better man?” He emphasised the word, better.

  “I did nothing, the police have been and are happy with my story. I know your game. You’ll try to break up what’s good; you always did. He worked for me, rented the cottage and that’s it as far as I’m concerned. Maybe someone collecting what he owed. He could spend faster than he could earn, always could, just like you. If you’d have got this place it’d be gone by now on some nag at the races.”

  “You don’t know much. You don’t, but you know how to get people to kill for you. Peterson was good at that, I believe. He knew how to keep a woman happy too. Maybe that’s why he was murdered, little brother. Brothers share things and if they don’t, then they certainly should, so I’m just sharing things as brothers would.”

  Ted was growing confused and angry. “Just what has Belinda got to do with all this, with you and Peterson? Why are you back here like a bloody bad smell? You were trouble when you were a kid and you’re trouble now. Just fuck off and leave us be!” He revved the quad, giving another signal to the dog which reluctantly returned and jumped onto its perch.

  “Did you never think about the glove and the knife? Never thought about the missing car? Never thought how dangerous those quads are? They cause loads of accidents on farms.” Trevor stepped to one side and waved the machine through. “Drive carefully, little brother. Don’t forget to remember me to Belinda.”

  ***

  The thrum of the radio had stopped and he heard the door gently close. Penny had looked in as she did every night. He had fallen asleep even though he had been determined to stay awake. He listened as the sound of the water running in the bathroom indicated that she was cleaning her teeth. It stopped and he paused. He could hear the sound of the occasional car but otherwise all was quiet. He heard the toilet flush. Within minutes all would be silent again.

  ***

  Apart from the vibrant red and orange cut slashed into the lower western sky, night had fallen. The quad pulled into the yard. Ted drove quickly
allowing the four wheels to slide and skip across the cobbles before entering the corrugated iron barn. He did not lock it but removed the key which was attached to his wrist on a red cable, a precaution in case he fell off the machine. The dog stayed by his feet until they reached the cage and the kennel. It obediently entered. In minutes he was back with food for both dogs. He changed their drinking water before returning to the kitchen.

  “You’re late, Ted Bostock. I was getting worried and you left your phone on the table. Much use it is there!” She moved towards him to kiss his cheek. “Have you been drinking?”

  Ted said nothing. He went to the cabinet and took out a whisky bottle and a glass. He poured a large measure and drank it before pouring a second.

  “What’s the matter?” She placed a hand on his shoulder but he moved away, taking the bottle and the glass. He sat in the chair that they considered his.

  “Ted?”

  “Met a friend of yours and a nemesis of mine earlier tonight. Told me that he and you were, shall we say, close.” He turned his gaze and stared her in the eye. “What do you think he meant by that?” He looked back at the glass before bringing it to his lips.

  “What old friend? Who are you talking about or is this simply ale talk?”

  “Peterson was also mentioned in this conversation.” He downed the next full glass. “I might be a simple fucking farmer but I’m no fucking fool.” He filled the small glass a fourth time.

  “Peterson’s dead for God’s sake. You found him. So, Ted Bostock, who’s my old friend?” Her voice was now raised and she threw her apron onto the table. “Well? If you’re going drink yourself daft, talk shite and shout, I guess we can both do a bit of that.”

  “I came from the top field, by Jonty Wood, Dad’s favourite spot, and guess who I saw on the track?”

  “Now let me guess. The ghost of your father? No? Well what about Snow White and the seven fucking dwarfs? How the bloody hell do I know? Stop playing games, it’s late and I’m tired.”

  “I’m serious!”

  “You’re bloody drunk.”

  He turned, putting the bottle and the glass on the hearth. “Neither, although to be honest with you, I’d have preferred to have met either of those.” He turned and looked directly at Belinda and she could see that he was not only angry but he was confused. “It was Trevor. And he told me things. Truths about him and you and about Peterson.”

  Belinda felt her legs go weak. She had believed that going weak at the knees was purely a saying, but at that moment she realised the truth in the words. She grabbed the edge of the table to steady herself.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Leonard had been downstairs in the night before, usually at Christmas to see if Santa Claus had been. On those occasions, he had misjudged the moment as, in his excitement, he had gone to bed early in the hope the morning would come sooner and Penny had still been in the lounge reading or asleep over her book. Tonight, however, things were different. He had a goal. Looking out between the slightly parted curtains he could see the turquoise light in the sky to his left. The street lamp was still on and he knew it was time to go. He had a strange feeling deep in his tummy, a bit like the feeling he experienced when he knew children were about, a mix of fear and apprehension. An involuntary scream erupted from his lips and he immediately brought a hand up to his mouth.

  He managed to negotiate the stairs quietly, carrying his shoes, and found himself in the hallway. Orange light leached through the transom window enhancing his nervousness. Sitting on the bottom step he slipped on his shoes, checking they were on the correct feet. He took hold of the Velcro straps and pulled tightly before collecting his hat and his coat. Within minutes he was ready. He could not remember a time when he had gone alone through the front door and beyond the gate. Taking a deep breath, he slowly slid the chain from the door, something he had been shown how to do in case there was ever a fire, turned the Yale lock and opened the door. The morning was deceptively warm and that was reassuring as he stood on the step before allowing the door to swing shut. He heard the lock catch. On reaching the metal gate he paused again. Here was the crossing point. He had often ventured this far alone, to look up and down the road, a dare to himself to see whether he could do it. On each occasion he had experienced a tingle of excitement when he returned safely inside. To be there alone was an adventure, as there was always the fear of a child appearing. He paused, resting his hands on the cool metal of the gate and turned to look at the now closed door. He would have to knock and wake his mother should he change his mind. He then thought of the snake, Lilly, his friend, alone in that long box. She needs you, he said to himself. She’s all alone. Within moments he pulled his hat down. He tugged at the gate and stepped onto the pavement and into the unknown. His hands found his pockets and he was on his way. In his mind he had drawn a picture of the route he had to take, small vignettes that would aid his progress. He walked quickly until he approached the building that housed Karl’s apartment and then slowed. From here the route was unfamiliar.

  ***

  Jo slipped out of bed and immediately grabbed her dressing gown. It was Friday, as if that made any difference where the care of animals was concerned. She pressed the button on the radio and the gentle sound of classical strings was buoyed by the dull grey light that was beginning to penetrate the room. Stretching momentarily, she found the slipper that was missing. She moved to the bathroom, splashed her face with cold water and immediately felt brighter. The shipping forecast would not be long. The routine was instinctive as she made her way down the stairs. She looked into the shop, all was quiet apart from some of the animals moving within the confines of their cages. She paused. That familiar sound was one of the rewards of the job, that and making sure they were well looked after. She moved into the store room and it was then that she heard it. It was light at first and she paused, moving back to the stairs to try to identify its location. It was there again, only this time louder. It was coming from the shop. She moved in and rested on the counter, her ears tuned away from the familiar. She paused before looking to check the ceiling. There was no dripping water so she had not left the tap running upstairs which was a relief. She then looked around the floor. In the past she had experienced the odd hamster going astray and considering their size they could make a great deal of noise. Reassured that all was well, she was about to turn and leave when the bang sounded, a desperate crash which made her turn anxiously. It was then she saw the face appear simultaneously at the door. She screamed, an involuntary reaction that brought silence to the room. Although startled, and even though the man’s face was compressed awkwardly against the glass, she knew immediately who it was. She moved to open it as the familiar voice of the shipping forecast drifted into the room.

  Forties, Cromarty, Forth, Tyne, Dogger south or south west five decreasing three at times, showers thundery for a time occasionally moderate. Fisher, German Bight …

  The light from the shop illuminated Leonard’s face, pushed hard against the window, contorting his features and squashing the brim of his hat to cover his eyebrows. She could still see the desperation in his eyes as he mouthed the word Jo followed by please. His palm moved away and tapped the glass one more time as the door opened.

  She stared at the face. “Leonard?” she said, finding it hard to believe he was at the shop so early. She opened the door more fully and let him almost fall into the room before quickly checking outside in the expectation of seeing his mother. To her surprise, the road was empty. “What are you doing here? Where’s Penny?”

  Tears filled his eyes, “I’m scared, Jo, I’m all on my own but I had to see Lilly. I promised her I’d come back. She looked at me. I know she liked me and Karl said I might hold her if I was good. I was good. I ate all of my tea and I blew out the candle and made a wish. Mum said I should make a wish and I did.” He started to move towards the counter. One hand went into his mouth as if to stop himself from crying. She knew just where he was going but she put her hand
on his arm.

  Bailey, Cyclonic 5 to 7, occasionally gale 8 at first. Very rough or high. Rain. Good, occasionally poor.

  “Stop! Leonard you can’t go in there, it’s not safe! Lilith shouldn’t be handled. Leonard!” Raising her voice she pulled at his arm, suddenly realising somewhat foolishly that she was no longer dealing with a child. As he turned to look at her, his innocent expression changed. She recalled the conversation with Penny and how she had seen a change in him since meeting Karl and his pets. Whether he did it deliberately or accidentally, the result was the same as he pulled her closely towards him and then thrust her away. She lost the grip she believed she had of his coat sleeve and felt herself falling to the side. Her head connected with the corner of the counter top and her arm hit the RSPCA collection tin sending it in the opposite direction. The noise was drowned by Leonard as he screamed, uncertain as to what had happened. He watched as Jo’s head struck.

  And the Shetland Isles, southerly or south westerly 5 to 7 occasionally 4 at first perhaps gale 8 later in the far west drizzle at first and showers later, moderate or good, occasionally poor at first.

  The second impact was Jo’s head hitting the floor. She twitched slightly and blood began to pool around the side of her head. Leonard moved his hand to his mouth and began to cry. Tears and saliva mixed before dribbling onto the floor.

  And that is the end of the shipping bulletin at …

  Neither heard the words streaming from the upstairs radio as Leonard moved towards the prostrate figure. With wet fingers he tried to open her right eye. The blue eye stared blindly and he allowed the lid to close. He tried prodding her arm but she remained motionless. “Sorry, sorry.” A curious gurgling noise emanated from between his saliva-bubbled lips. “Jo, wake up. It’s alright. Sorry. I’ll be good. I didn’t do it, it’s not my fault, you fell.”