Death At Willows End

by A. B. King

  “Maybe, but I don't frighten that easily.”

  “Maybe you don't, but I'm getting goose-bumps all down my spine just thinking of what may happen if we try to push him into a corner.”

  “Well, before we throw in the towel like a pair of wimps, why don't we look to see if this name you claim may be lying on your desk is actually there?”

  Why not indeed? I pulled the file towards me and opened it up. Lying right on top was the information I had requested re the membership list of the Reagan owners club. At first glance it looked exactly what it purported to be; a list of past and present members. There were no addresses, and strangely, only Christian or nicknames, but there was a contact telephone number against every name, and a membership number. I studied the page carefully for a few minutes, trusting that inspiration would leap off the page and solve my problems. There was to be no such luck; the names were meaningless. I turned and looked at the second page, and there were more of the same. On the next page were the printouts of the press stories current at the time of the tragedy that I had asked Tracy to get for me. These told me pretty much what I had already learned from other sources, and nowhere was there any mention of any other person in the vicinity at the time.

  I suddenly had the feeling that I was missing something, and I tuned back to the membership list, looking carefully at the pages, studying each one in turn. It all seemed perfectly in order, and not one of the names stood out as being one I had heard from any other source, and yet instinctively I knew that something wasn't right. Quite suddenly the penny dropped.

  “This has been tampered with!” I exclaimed.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Look, you can see for yourself, the second sheet of copy-paper in this list of addresses is different from those before and after it!”

  “How do you work that out?”

  I pointed at the waste-paper basket set to one side of the computer desk. “See, the remains of the old packet of paper are in there; and if you look by the printer you will note that the new one is from a different manufacturer; there is a very slight difference in texture and colouring in this middle sheet, which is what alerted me to what has happened. If Tracy had run out in the middle of printing, the last sheets would have been out of the second packet. With only one sheet being used, and in the middle of the sequence, it had to have been produced afterwards!”

  “Well, at least you didn't finish by saying; 'Elementary, my dear Watson'!” she commented. “So, where does that get us?”

  “It means that our mysterious 'Mr X' has not been quite so clever after all; he must have been here, looked at the list, and then used the computer to produce an amended sheet. He obviously thought that by substituting a bogus page we will never be able to trace him. Ha, all we need to do is to re-access the web-site and print out the information all over again.”

  I went over and switched the computer on, and a few minutes later I was able to call up the web-page I wanted, and a minute or so later I had a new print-out in my hand. I laid it alongside the one I suspected had been tampered with, and compared the results.

  “Well?” asked Danny impatiently.

  “Yes, it's been tampered with right enough, but on the other hand he isn't quite as stupid as I took him for. If you look at these two sheets side by side you can see that he hasn't just removed one name in his version, there must be well over a dozen taken out at random. His name could be any one of them.”

  “It shouldn't take us too long to sift through a dozen names?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning it could so easily be a double bluff; he could have removed a dozen names at random and left his own in-situ, thereby ensuring we would be chasing off on a succession of wild goose-chases. We could be on a long haul with this.”

  “Well, I can think of a much easier way of figuring out who it is,” Danny announced. “Much depends on your nerve?”

  “There's nothing wrong with my nerve,” I assured her, which was pretty close to an outright lie!

  “I hope not, because I have a feeling that we will find what we are looking for in Julia's home.”

  I looked at her in astonishment. “What on Earth makes you think that?” I exclaimed.

  “Simple deduction, my dear Watson; I very much doubt that she has had any contact with Mr X since she has been married, but if she felt threatened by your visit, or if as you suggest, seizing a chance to revive an old relationship, she would almost certainly have had to look up a phone number or get in touch by some other means. It is not beyond the realms of possibility that she scribbled the name and number we want down on a pad somewhere. All we have to do is to go in and pick up the number.”

  “Are you mad? Even supposing that 'Mr X' did go there to do away with Julia, and not forgetting that at the moment we have absolutely no proof that her death was anything other than suicide, he is scarcely likely to overlook the fact she may have scribbled his phone number down somewhere, and even if he didn't think of it, we still have to break into her home to gain access to it.”

  “Exactly!”

  “But that is committing a major crime!”

  “I thought you said there was nothing wrong with your nerve?”

  “Danny,” I said frantically, “if we get caught doing something as stupid as this we could finish up in jail!”

  “I doubt it; we both have previous 'good characters', (well, I do anyway,) so it will be a 'first offence', and I happen to know a very good 'Mr Fixit' lawyer who will probably get us off with nothing worse than a legal rap over the knuckles anyway.”

  One thing I had already learned about Danny; once she had set her heart on doing something there was little chance of deflecting her from her purpose.

  “You're serious about this aren't you?” I said, stating the obvious.

  “Of course,” she agreed, as if doubt was something that had never crossed her mind for a moment, which it probably hadn't. “The one thing I've learnt in business is that the faint hearted never prosper. This is what I call a calculated risk, and if we use our common sense there is very little danger of being caught. With any luck we will be able to carry out this simple task, and find the key to solving this whole business. It goes without saying that if the worst comes to the worst, any fine you have to pay can be put on the expenses. Who knows; getting caught might even be to your advantage?”

  “Now how on Earth do you work that one out?”

  “When the press get hold of it,” she said, beaming at me as if she was the answer to all my prayers, which in some ways I suppose she was, but only in some ways, “seeing the extremes to which you will go towards furthering your client's interests you will get a whole flood of business!”

  “I think,” I said with total conviction, “that I have to be mad even to listen to you.”

  “Then I take it we will do it?”

  “And if I say no?”

  “Shall I ring for the ambulance now?”

  “Bully!”

  As mentioned before, where Danny was concerned, I would do anything, even though the remaining shreds of my common sense told me that I should have dug my heels in and refused point blank. Indeed, common sense almost won the day, but then I just knew that with or without me, she would have gone ahead with her insane project anyway, and I certainly wasn't going to let her go alone. I didn't like to mention the possibility, but it belatedly occurred to me that if 'Mr X' had done away with Julia, he might not have thought about his phone number being somewhere in her home when he had disposed of her, but it might very well have crossed his mind later! A man who could deliberately commit murder wouldn't draw the line at burglary, and the thought that he might well be there or hovering in the general vicinity with much the same purpose as ourselves in mind did little to ease my feelings of impending doom.

  “Just when do you propose carrying out this insane idea of yours?” I asked despondently.

  “What about two o'clock tomorrow morning?”
she suggested. “Most law abiding folk are in bed by that time, and if we are careful we should be able to get in, find what we want, and get out again without anyone being the wiser.”

  “I take it you have a jemmy in the boot of the car?” I asked sarcastically, “along with a couple of masks, a pair of black and maroon striped jerseys and a black bag marked 'swag'?”

  “Don't you think you are a bit old for reading comics?” she responded happily.

  “All right, how are we going to get in; smash a window?”

  “As it happens, one of the companies I have a controlling interest in is a security firm; thanks to them I've learnt a trick or two about getting into premises without resorting to a key of any other crude device. You just leave that side of things to auntie Danny!”

  “Well, if you are determined to spend the remainder of your day's staring at the four walls of Parkhurst Prison I suppose there's nothing much I can do about it,” I sighed resignedly. “At least it's better than Newgate, where I expect I will finish up.”

  “For your information, Newgate was demolished about 1902,” she retorted. “And as far as I know there are very few women in Parkhurst, the more common destination for the fair sex is Holloway for those unlucky enough to fall foul of the law. But you needn't worry; you can always plead insanity-”

  “That shouldn't be hard to prove!” I muttered darkly.

  “-and if convicted, I will be released on a technicality,” she finished.

  “Technicality?”

  “If I should be convicted in the name of Daniella Fortescue I shall instruct my lawyers to prove that I'm Dian, and as Dian is legally dead anyway?”

  “You,” I said with conviction, “have a really twisted mind.”

  “Naturally,” she twinkled. “I'm a woman.”

  There was no way I was going to argue with that highly self-evident fact.

  “Right, then I suppose you will be off home for a while, and I will do likewise,” I sighed in defeat. “Will you call in for me on the way, or shall I detour and collect you first?”

  “Neither; I have a much better idea.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like we go and collect a take-away and take it back to your place, and then when we are ready we can sally out from there.”

  I know that I am guilty of repeating myself, but Danny has this way of constantly taking my breath away!

  “Look,” I said, fumbling desperately for the right words, “much as I like the idea, I think it only right you should know that I'm already in trouble with 'The 'Hatchet' over you!”

  “The Hatchet?”

  “Mrs Axeman, she is the building superintendent; I meant to tell you earlier; I'm under notice to quit because I have been entertaining a suspicious female on the premises.”

  “The 'suspicious female' being me I hope?” she asked, seemingly not in the least concerned that since she had appeared on the scene my whole life had been turned upside-down, and I was now about to lose my home along with the last vestiges of my sanity!

  “What do you think I am, an amateur Lothario?”

  She let that pass without comment.

  “I get it, she exclaimed suddenly, her face lighting up, 'The Hatchet', what an excellent sobriquet for the formidable Mrs Axeman!”

  “You know her?”

  “I should do; I own the building.”

  Like I have said on so many occasions in this narrative, Danny has a knack of taking my breath away with almost monotonous regularity! “You own the building?” I repeated stupidly.

  “That's what I said.”

  “Is there anything round here you don't own or haven't got your grubby little fingers into?”

  “You?”

  “Well, I suppose that's something! Just for the record, I'm not for sale.”

  “So I've discovered,” she sighed as if that was the one great tragedy of her life. “Never mind, you can't blame a girl for trying.”

  For the life of me I couldn't make up my mind if it was more of her chaffing or if she really meant it. I decided it was the former.

  “I've just had a great idea!” I exclaimed as if I had just solved Archimedes principal, or whatever it was that caused the ancient Greek to invent a strange exclamation as he exited his bath.

  “For you,” she observed dryly, “even a small one would be an achievement!”

  “Let's go grab a takeaway and go back to my place?”

  “Now why didn't I think of that?”

  “You're only a girl!”

  We left the office, locking it securely behind us. We drove off in my car, leaving hers in my parking space, and on the way we found a Chinese takeaway shop, selected a couple of meals and a bottle of wine, eventually reaching my home at about nine in the evening. I was very conscious of the fact that all Danny's things were still packed away in the boot of my car, and I knew that once she was in the flat it wouldn't take her long to rumble the fact that her personal belongings had all been cleared out. When we pulled up I fished the case out of the boot and took it in with me. She expressed no curiosity as to what I was lugging about, and at that point I didn't feel like trotting out any sort of explanation. Once inside we went through into the lounge, and I put the suitcase down against one wall whilst Danny stayed in the kitchenette to sort out the food. We hadn't been there more than a couple of minutes when there was a peremptory knocking on the door. I didn't need three guesses to ascertain who the 'mystery' caller was.

  “Mrs Axeman,” I exclaimed with my customary forced heartiness as I threw the door open, “How very nice to see you!”

  “Sarcasm will get you nowhere, Mr Hammond,” she stated icily. “I have just observed you surreptitiously secreting a woman into your flat. As you are fully aware, this is a further direct flouting of the rules, therefore you will now definitely have to pack your things and leave at the end of the week.”

  “Good evening Mrs Axeman,” said Danny who had come up behind me as I had opened the door. “I trust you remember me? I came to see you yesterday after I had completed the purchase of these premises as you may recall?”

  “Miss Fortescue,” the Hatchet exclaimed in total surprise, “I-”

  “I'm pleased to see that you are so diligent in your duties. However, you will note from the fresh instructions that I delivered to you personally that the rules governing tenancy have been revised with immediate effect. I am surprised that you have not acquainted yourself with these. I expect you have been far too busy 'observing' the private lives of your tenants? Never mind, if you would care to peruse them, you will note that 12(c) has been completely altered. I would also draw your attention to rule 32(a). Now, if you will excuse us, Mr Hammond and I are about to have a very important business meeting.”

  In all the time I had known 'The Hatchet' I had never seen her so totally shell-shocked, and it brought tears of joy to my heart as I watched her stumbling away to her lair as if she had been smacked between the eyes with a large fillet of wet cod!

  “That,” I said to Danny as I closed the door, “Was priceless! Let me guess, rule 12(c), that would be the one about entertaining ladies on the premises?”

  “Clever boy!”

  “Rule 32(a)?”

  “As near as I can recall the wording, 'In the event of a tenant making a complaint of harassment against the building superintendent, said superintendent will be suspended from duty pending a full investigation, and if said complaint is substantiated, good bye superintendent' or words to that effect.”

  “The look on her face,” I chortled with glee, thinking of the number of times that awful woman had humiliated me “Good Grief, I'd have given a month’s salary to have done that to her myself! Danny, I could kiss you!”

  “What's stopping you?”

  Like I said, I have this habit of only engaging brain after the mouth has well and truly dropped me in it! Well, I was in too far now to back off, and the look of that lovely face hovering so tantalisingly close to mine, the small beautifully formed lips
, the glistening eyes, to say nothing of the entrancing figure that supported it all! If I backed away now there would never be another chance. So what if she only needed me for a passing fling; a starving man will catch any crumb that's offered, and this was a first-class grade-A caviar-style 'crumb'! I put my arms round her and drew her gently towards me and lowered my mouth to hers. There was no resistance, she sort of melted into my arms, and I swear that kiss had its origins in heaven, or at least somewhere pretty close-by! I didn't want it to end, for I had never experienced anything like it in my life, but eventually she decided that it was time to come up for breath.

  “I think,” she said slowly as she gazed up into my eyes, “that the take-away is getting cold.”