by Lizzie Lewis
I’m wondering whether to tell her about the cross, which the woman on the ladder has just recovered and is putting in a see-through evidence bag. Morgan has spotted what’s happening, and hurries forward. Perhaps I’ve told her too much. If this is in the press, perhaps the coroner will dismiss the whole case supporting murder. Well, we’ll have to see what happens.
Chapter 6
Jezza and Rachel bring me back to the present by asking if I’d like something to drink after my office hunting adventure. I opt for tea. I know I’ve got to stop reliving the past. But the past is an important part of my life.
“So when will you be moving in?” Rachel asks. “Please stay here as long as you want. Opening a detective agency is a big move, Janika.”
Don’t I know it! “Abi’s husband is a solicitor, and he’s drawn up a tenancy agreement. I’ve not signed it yet, and Abi has to change the furniture in the living accommodation. Fortunately, she hasn’t done it yet, because she was going to refurbish the office with brand-new stuff. What’s there now is perfect. It will look as though I’ve been in business for years, and know exactly what I’m doing.”
Yes, that’s going to be a borderland deception, but I’m not going to tell any clients about this being my first job, unless of course they ask. It’s scary. Definitely scary, but I have more than enough money now. Then, when I’ve made my fortune, I can purchase my own property. The immediate payouts were good, but not generous enough to do that straight away. The police compensation will be paid out over a number of years.
“I can pay the rent and survive for at least a year, even if I don’t get any income,” I explain. “Abi is an old school friend of mine, so I’m getting a friendly reduction on the rent.”
That’s not exactly true. Yes, I’m getting a friendly reduction on the rent, but I could never call Abi an old school friend. When she told me about laughing at my mother’s new Citroen 2CV, I could hardly remember it. But I can remember it now. It wasn’t just Abi, but it certainly hurt. After that, I insisted on walking to school, and when it was wet, my mother dropped me off a couple of roads away so I could walk the last part and arrive at school without being mocked.
I’ve really taken to Abi. If I hadn’t been such a mouse at school we might have become friends back then. She has a dry sense of humour, and is certainly more considerate than the Abi Button schoolgirl I knew. That’s probably what happens when people grow up. Everyone changes, but not always for the better. Anyway, I already feel comfortable with Abi and Melanie, and Pete and Hayley. There’s definitely something going on with Pete and Hayley.
Little ginger haired Liam Donovan is quite a character. He wanted to show me some magic, but his mother told him not to bother me because I have a lot on my mind. I think she meant my decision about taking the office and apartment above the coffee shop, and not my loss of Sam. I’m not sure she even knew about that. Well, she will now, because Abi will definitely have told her. I hope it doesn’t lead to embarrassment next time we meet. People don’t know what to say when they learn about Sam.
“Sorry, Rachel, what did you say?”
Rachel reminds me she has just asked if I would like something to eat now, or would I like to wait until they eat at seven. I’m not at all hungry. The day has exhausted me. Am I really about to start a detective agency called the Button Up Detective Agency?
“Coffee?”
I shake my head vigorously. “Thanks, but not today. I had more than enough coffee at Button Up, and I’m so wound up about the move that I’ll probably not sleep a wink tonight.”
Rachel just smiles. She and Jezza have been great friends. As soon as they learnt of our financial problems – that’s Sam’s as well as mine – they’ve been bricks. They’ve not had money to spare, and if they’d offered us a loan we wouldn’t have taken it, but they’ve made sure I’ve not been made homeless. And before Sam’s sudden death, we were both going to live here with them, while we sorted out our future – however long it took.
I’ve told Rachel and Jezza about the lovely old furniture in the office, and the not so lovely old furniture in the living accommodation. I’m keen to get started as soon as I can, but I think it’s going to be a couple of weeks until things are fixed there. Abi says she wants to fit new units in the small kitchen, and says I can rest assured that she’s already onto it. She’s a real ball of fire, that girl!
“I hope I’ll be able to take most of my stuff with me,” I tell Jezza and Rachel. “All the furniture belonged to the landlord, and apart from some treasured possessions from our past, and books, there’s not much here anyway. Is it okay if I leave some of it behind? For now, I mean.”
“Janika,” Rachel says, giving me a hug, “we’ll do whatever we can to help you. Please don’t worry. Everything is safe here until you need it.”
“I’m going to need to change my car before I start work,” I tell them. “My old Nissan Micra is hardly going to impress clients if I turn up at their home or place of work to discuss a potential case.”
The Micra and the laptop are only two things of any value that the bailiffs couldn’t take. They belong to my father, even though he’s never used them. Fortunately I had the documents as proof when they raided the house.
Jezza is laughing and shaking his head. “Are you sure you want to be a private detective?” he asks with a grin.
I don’t get it. “I don’t mind old office furniture. It’s impressive – but my old silver Nissan Micra? That’s not going to go down well. I just hope no one notices me in it.”
“Exactly,” Jezza says. “No one will notice you or the car. Isn’t that perfect if you want to carry out surveillance?”
I’m feeling so stupid. There’s me, trained and qualified, and I’m thinking of buying a new car. What, a bright red supercar? But I’m not going to let Jezza off easily. “Not so unnoticeable if it keeps breaking down and leaving a trail of smoke in its wake.”
Of course, Rachel is now in on the act. “Then get it fixed, Janika. Instead of spending the money on a new car, find someone to make it reliable and fast.”
I’m having to laugh, mostly at my own stupidity. “Brilliant idea, Rachel. Thanks for raising it, Jezza. Abi told me she has a friend called Rupert Forrester who works in a local garage. I’ll take it to him. But I’m not bothered about the speed. I’m going to be following people, assuming I get work, but I won’t be doing high-speed chases.”
It’s good to have sensible friends – even ones who go to church! Yes, the little Nissan Micra will be perfect. It will blend in, as long as I get the dent and scrape in the passenger door fixed first. With damage like that, the little car would be easily identified if it kept popping up in various parts of town. Why wasn’t that in the course I did? Maybe it’s so obvious that it didn’t need stating. We were told how to follow someone in a car without being noticed, and in my mind I’ve been picturing myself sitting in something fast, expensive and new.
My phone is ringing, and makes me jump. Fortunately, I’ve been able to retain my old number, even though I was temporarily cut off by the phone company for non-payment. I’m wondering which of my friends it is now. I look at the screen. It’s Abi Wells.
“Hi,” Abi says, “I’ve already arranged house clearance to get rid of the old stuff in the living accommodation. And I’ve ordered the necessary flatpack. My friends Alice and Rupert will help me and Danny put it all together, and we have a builder friend from church who’s doing the decorating. Danny has the tenancy agreement, and if you can print it out yourself, I’ll email it to you now as an attachment.”
It’s good I’ve managed to keep our laptop. Well, it’s my laptop now, not Sam’s as well. I still keep thinking of Sam and me as an item, and I’ve been told I need to give it time. Probably several years. If ever. And I’m not sure it’s something I ever want to get over. No way will I be finding someone to take Sam’s place in my life.
The bailiffs took the printer, but I can use Rachel and Jezza’s for now. So I’m
looking forward to perusing and signing the tenancy agreement, knowing it will be more than fair. Abi is someone I feel I can trust. Although I’ve not met Danny, I have no doubts I’ll sign it, which means I can set up business within the next two weeks.
Hooray!
Really? My laptop is open and my email pings. It’s not only the tenancy agreement from Abi, but pictures of the flatpack furniture she’s chosen, and the kitchen units. There will be a small fridge freezer, and a sink unit with an adjoining worktop with an overhead cupboard. Under the worktop are pull-out drawers for my groceries. And that’s it. Just those few things will fill the tiny kitchen, but I know I’m going to love it. Especially knowing that the welcoming coffee shop is immediately below.
Rupert is apparently keen to inspect my Nissan Micra and give me a quote as soon as I move in. It seems I already have friends in the town that holds some unpleasant childhood memories. At the moment I’m glad I’m going back there to live and work. I hope I won’t regret it later.
Chapter 7
I was right about not being able to get to sleep. I’m lying in bed staring at the ceiling. There’s light coming through the curtains from the streetlight a little way down the road, but that’s not the reason. I keep thinking of Sam.
I hope I’m not heading for a breakdown. I’ve been assured that it’s perfectly normal to feel like this after such a sudden and totally unexpected loss, but my mind is certainly buzzing in a way that doesn’t feel right. I’m reliving the results of the findings at the crime scene.
It was definitely a crime scene, and officially declared as such. However, the coroner didn’t seem to take the report for granted. No woman came forward from the appeal in the newspaper, or subsequently from an appeal on the local radio, but that didn’t seem a significant part of his conclusion. I realised that the police weren’t there to present the case one way or the other, although they were allowed to state their findings. It was the coroner who took all the evidence into account before making his decision.
I couldn’t afford him, but I didn’t tell my solicitor I was broke when I signed him on. Courtney had advised me to get a solicitor, and this one was certainly sharp. He reinforced the police report that there was no way that Sam’s gold cross and unbroken leather cord could have ended up where it did, without been placed there manually. The coroner then suggested that perhaps I had placed it there, but my solicitor quickly pointed out that – with all due respect – the suggestion was ludicrous. I would not have been able to place a ladder there without being noticed, and no one had reported it. Also, a ladder that tall would have needed at least two people to handle it.
I think the coroner wanted to be absolutely sure he was making the right decision. A lot depended on it. Not just my own peace of mind, of course, but there was a question of a large life insurance payout and compensation from the police.
I’m sure that without the intervention of my solicitor the coroner might have given an open verdict, which of course would be totally unsatisfactory. Eventually, and I got the feeling it was reluctantly, he ruled that Sam’s death was murder, by person or persons unknown.
I fluttered my eyelids after the inquest and explained to my solicitor that – with all due respect – I wouldn’t be able to pay him until the insurance money came through. That really brought him to life, and he explained that the situation was certainly unusual, but if I wanted him to pursue the insurance company and the police compensation, he would be glad to do so for a small commission. He didn’t explain how small the commission was going to be, but I could call in the next day to sign a contract. I found it a great relief to have him on my side. The man was sharp, but also a total softy.
It looks as though Danny Wells is kind, too, because he’s not inserted any nasty clauses into the tenancy agreement. I’m hoping he’ll be able to get me some detective work through the solicitors’ office, but nothing too tricky to begin with. Just something that pays well!
I have to get in touch with my parents in Poland to tell them about the office and living apartment, and give them what will be my new address. They came over for the funeral, but we more or less lost contact again after Sam’s death. Not that we’ve had much contact anyway. My mother kept warning me that I was foolish to be marrying a policeman instead of Bruno, because of the dangers. Instead of showing sympathy when Sam was killed, all she could say was, “I told you so,” and subsequently she’s been no help. Perhaps when she knows I’ve made something of my life when I start the detective agency, the rift will be healed. Not that it will bring Sam back.
Foregoing Rachel’s offer of coffee doesn’t seem to have helped me sleep. I’m still wide awake, wondering who these person or persons unknown are. Well, obviously if I knew who they were, they wouldn’t be person or persons unknown. And that’s the problem.
Courtney has become quite a good friend, and she’s warned me several times against trying to track them down. She says the police are onto it, and that’s all she’s allowed to say. Well, I hope they find them soon. I’m worried they might find me first, wanting to know if Sam shared any incriminating details with me. Maybe even keeping some sort of notebook, or coded file on our laptop. I’ve not seen one yet, and I’m doubtful there is one. Surely Sam’s records would be at work. But if I do find anything, Courtney will be the first person to know.
Even though Sam didn’t share anything with me, the person or persons unknown won’t know that. I get this nightmarish picture of being hung over the bridge by my ankles, by two men demanding to know what Sam has told me. I’m wondering why I would bother to tell them anything. They’re going to let me drop, anyway. They won’t want me reporting them. I imagine the same thought occurred to Sam. I’m not imagining myself hanging there now, but I’m seeing Sam in his last moments. I wish I couldn’t keep thinking about these things. Thoughts like this are at their worst in the night.
Whether Sam told anything or not I have no idea, but that gold cross certainly didn’t bring him any luck. Maybe that’s not why he wore it. I’m feeling sad that he never talked about it with me, probably because we got into arguments. Getting into an argument is the last thing I’d do now ‒ if he could come back.
Of course, he won’t come back. I don’t believe in ghosts. I wonder if Sam is preparing a place for me in heaven. I heard that somewhere. No, I’m pretty certain it was Jesus who said it. He told his followers not to worry, because he was preparing a place for them in heaven. Really? Well, Sam certainly believed it.
<><><><>
I slept a bit during the night. I can remember a few of my dreams, and they weren’t as bad as my waking thoughts. Perhaps I need to get some professional help. Of course, the sooner I can get to work and have something to occupy my mind, the better I’m likely to feel.
It’s Saturday now, and Jezza and Rachel aren’t going to work. Rachel suggests they take me to lunch at Button Up. It seems I’ve made the coffee and pastries at Button Up sound extremely attractive. If Abi is amenable I’ll show them the office, just to make sure they agree with me that the traditional furniture will give my clients the right impression. And they might as well see the living accommodation, even though it is all rather cramped. But if it was good enough for an elderly accountant, I’m sure it’s going to be good enough for little me.
I need to phone Abi.
“Abi, Janika here. I’ve signed the tenancy agreement. I’m happy to pay the full deposit. As I explained yesterday, I have adequate funds to start the business. I’d rather we got off on a professional footing, even though we’re friends.”
Are we friends? Am I taking something for granted here?
“Come any time, Janika. This is my Saturday to be on duty. Melanie and I take turns for the Saturday work. Pete and Hayley will be here. They are fascinated by the thought of having a private investigator living above the coffee shop. They’ve hardly stopped talking about you. Good things, of course.”
I can’t help wondering what they’ve been saying, but thankful
ly whatever it is, it seems to have been okay. “I know it’s not properly furnished yet, but is it all right if I bring my friends to look round the apartment? I told you about Jezza and Rachel. They’ll drive me over, and I can drop the signed tenancy agreement off at the same time. As soon as you’ve signed it and given me a copy, I’ll do a bank transfer with the deposit and the first month’s rent, to start whenever the apartment is ready. No pressure, but I’m dying to get my feet under that old desk.”
Not a good choice of word.
Chapter 8
While I’ve been talking to Abi, a tone on my phone has told me there’s an incoming call. It’s a number I recognise, and I’m certainly not going to tell Abi to get off the line. The call could be bad news.
With everything arranged with Abi for a visit at lunchtime, and a complimentary lunch offered at Button Up for me, Jezza and Rachel, I go into the garden to return the call. I don’t want to be overheard. It’s Mr Mulligan, the cruel, cruel landlord who evicted me, even in the middle of the trauma of Sam’s death. Well, perhaps not cruel, because he understandably wanted an income on his investment. I could afford the monthly rent now, but no way do I want to live there on my own. So if his new tenants have also defaulted on their rent, and he’s begging me to come back, he’s in for a disappointment.
“Mrs Jones,” he snaps, “you’ve done a very serious thing. My tenants are absolutely furious. You’re lucky they haven’t gone to the police about it, although I have a good mind to go myself.”
I shake my head. “Mr Mulligan, I’ve absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No, no, Mrs Jones, you’re not going to get out of it that easily. I think it’s disgraceful to spy on anyone. Was it you or was it your husband?”