Revenge on the Rye

by Alice Castle

  Katie stood on tiptoe, then on one leg, accidentally-on-purpose doing a perfect yoga ‘Tree’ position while she was at it, stretching her arms high, high above her head, and bringing her palms together. Not for the first time, Beth envied her friend’s extra inches, her grace, her long slender limbs – well, just everything, really. Then, round about the time when Beth decided she’d had enough and that her friend was merely showing off, Katie unfurled her hands and inched them along, high up on the trunk.

  Beth took a step backwards to see if she could get a better view. Then took another, and another. Finally, standing on a small clump of weeds, she could just about see what Katie was up to.

  Katie, meanwhile, had been feeling her way around the upper reaches of the trunk. She dipped one hand almost nonchalantly into a shadowy hollow, and with a sudden cry of surprise, brought something out. She was so astonished that her perfect tiptoe posture crumpled completely, and she fell backwards heavily onto Beth, who’d run forward to see what Katie had found.

  Beth, in turn, subsided less than gracefully onto poor old Colin. The dog let out a heartfelt whimper, then wriggled out of their way. Despite the impact leaving them both breathless, they couldn’t help laughing. Teddy, never able to resist a prone grown-up, pranced over to give them lavish kisses, which got them stumbling to their feet and wiping down their faces in disgust.

  ‘Ugh! Sorry about him, Beth. He just can’t help himself, he’s a big licky puppy, aren’t you? Aren’t you, Teddy-weddy?’ Katie bent to stroke the dog, who waggled his whole body in ecstasy.

  ‘Katie, that’s enough of that, where’s that thing you found in the tree?’

  Katie looked blank for a second, then both of them turned to scrabble on the ground. Colin, meanwhile, patiently thumped his tail on the floor. After a moment or two frantically scouring the clumps of grass, Beth looked his way and realised the big Lab had something in his mouth. In horror, she yelped to Katie, and they both rushed forward to pull it out.

  Not surprisingly, Colin quailed at this onslaught and got to his feet, somewhat shakily, and prepared to do what for him passed for a bolt. But Beth, with great presence of mind, put one pixie boot firmly on his lead, and then slowed her pace and signalled to Katie to step back. She approached him gently, and patted his velvety head while murmuring soothing words to him. For the first time, Colin gave her a very uncertain glance out of his big chocolatey eyes, then he opened his mouth in his characteristic huge grin, and the package dropped out. Beth immediately pounced on it, though when she felt how wet it was with copious amounts of Colin’s slobber, she rather wished she hadn’t.

  They both stared at the object in distaste. It was still identifiable as a brown manila envelope, and made a thickish packet, held closed by an elastic band. Beth looked at Katie and started to remove it, hoping it wasn’t all going to disintegrate in her hands.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ Katie put her hand on Beth’s wrist. ‘Shouldn’t we report this to the police? It could be evidence.’

  ‘There’s nothing to say it’s connected to, you know, Smeaton,’ objected Beth. Her intelligent grey eyes met Katie’s steady blue gaze.

  ‘What are the chances of us finding a weird envelope just a stroll away from the scene of a murder?’ Katie’s point was perfectly reasonable. But it wasn’t what Beth wanted to hear.

  She was curious, as always. And waiting for the police to get here – or worse, for Harry to come and tell her off for even walking near the little grove where Smeaton had been done to death – was a lot less attractive than simply having a good look and then making a decision. Beth suddenly realised that having Katie along as her partner was not all going to be plain sailing. She was used to making decisions as she went; by the seat of her pants, some might say. She certainly didn’t want to have to run everything past Mrs Sensible.

  ‘Look, it’s pretty much falling apart anyway,’ said Beth. And sure enough, a bit of judicious heavy handling had her peering right inside the package without actually removing the rubber band. What she saw gave her pause. She looked up at Katie.

  ‘That’s not…?’

  ‘It is,’ Beth whispered.

  They were looking at a huge wodge of cash. For Beth, who lived perennially on the breadline, a bunch of £50 notes this large probably represented many months’ money. Maybe even a year’s worth? Enough for tutoring (not that they were doing that any more, but with this money she could force Ben to take up the violin), new sweatpants for his interview, as many sacks of fancy cat food as Magpie could chomp her way through – and that was saying a lot – as well as a bone for Colin. Every single day.

  She was speechless.

  Katie, a little less used to penury than her friend, was still staring in consternation at the envelope.

  ‘That’s a lot of money, Beth. We’ve got to report it.’ Her voice sounded a little censorious, and immediately Beth’s hackles rose.

  ‘Well, I didn’t put it there. And yes, I agree,’ she said, the heat dying away as she thought things through. She fished out her phone with a bit of a sigh and dialled the familiar number. Just as familiarly, it went straight to voicemail.

  ‘What do we do with it now?’ Katie seemed horrified at the ramifications of their find. Despite herself, Beth was rather thrilled at the money and kept ticking off bills she could now theoretically pay, even though she knew in her heart of hearts that all this dosh was going straight to Harry as soon as she could hand it over.

  ‘Can you shove it in your bag?’ she asked hopefully.

  Now it was Katie’s turn to be shirty. ‘Mine’s full up with all Teddy’s stuff,’ she objected, patting the minimalist number that Michael had so fondly hoped would rival Belinda MacKenzie’s current It bag. He had reckoned without Teddy giving it a severe chewing and Katie using it to transport the pigs’ ears and chew toys she needed to distract the puppy from whichever tiny dog he was finding sexually irresistible that day. Only a couple of weeks old, it was already a sorry sight. ‘What’s wrong with yours?’

  They both knew Beth’s bag was also titchy, and also full of crap. Although her OCD tendencies meant there wasn’t a surface in her house you couldn’t see your reflection in – including the tops of the paint cans that had been in her hall for months, waiting for their moment – her bag was a grey area. A surprising number of Twix wrappers, Wispa packets, and Haribo bags that she carried around ‘for Ben’, but which he didn’t know existed and never got to sample, were perpetually in transit in Beth’s bag.

  She gave Katie a sour glance but gamely accepted defeat and started shoving the packet down into her bag, squashing who-knew-what in the process. Finally, she’d tamped everything down enough to get the zip done up.

  ‘I feel like everyone’s going to know I’ve got hundreds of pounds on me, as though this is completely see-through,’ Beth said, patting her handbag protectively and darting a glance around her as though purse-snatchers were lurking behind every bush.

  ‘Even if it were transparent, I think there’d be enough camouflage in there to disguise that money.’ Katie stooped to pick up a few stray sweet papers that had fallen out during Beth’s struggles, and shoved them into her own pockets without comment.

  ‘I suppose the bigger question is, what on earth was all this money doing in the tree? And is there anything else in there?’ Beth wrinkled her forehead, and Katie sighed but obligingly stretched herself up again, and moved her hand around carefully in the little cavity.

  ‘Nope, nothing else in there apart from the odd dried-up leaf and a few things I couldn’t really identify and don’t want to think about.’

  ‘Nothing man-made, though?’

  ‘No, definitely not. Felt more like, you know, dead bugs, that sort of stuff,’ said Katie with a delicate shudder.

  ‘There are no identifying marks on the envelope. Nothing to tie it to Smeaton – or anyone else…’ Beth ruminated quietly.

  ‘Surely Harry will just test it for fingerprints?’

  ‘Yes, but un
less whoever’s touched this is already known to the police, then they won’t be in the database,’ Beth pointed out. ‘Ok, well, that feels like all we can do here. There’s nothing in the grass anywhere, is there?’

  ‘Well, if there was, then Teddy’s slobbered or peed on it, or Colin’s eaten it,’ said Katie, looking at the two dogs severely. ‘I don’t think they’ve got what it takes to be police sniffer dogs, let’s put it that way.’

  Teddy rolled over under their gaze, letting them have another eyeful of the reason for much of his misbehaviour, and Colin panted, his raspberry tongue hanging down like a wet bathmat. Beth and Katie both sighed a little. As sidekicks, the dogs so far left a lot to be desired.

  ‘Let’s go along to the, you know, scene, and see if there’s anything there that we missed last time,’ said Beth.

  ‘To be fair, we weren’t actually hunting around before. We just called the police and let them get on with it…’

  ‘Like the great citizens we are,’ smiled Beth. ‘Yes. But now they’ve gone, there might be something there that’s just gone unnoticed.’

  ‘I’m loving all that faith you have in Harry and his team,’ Katie’s voice was dry.

  Beth gave her a sideways look. ‘You know what I mean. A different perspective… they’re always in such a rush anyway, and they’re just looking for the obvious stuff – footprints, murder weapon… We can take things at a more oblique angle.’

  ‘Oh, can we?’ Katie seemed amused. ‘Off we go then. Lead on, Sherlock. Do I need to get my magnifying glass out?’

  Beth gave her friend a tiny playful shove, and they were giggling as they collected up both dogs’ leads and walked on.

  But when they got to the forlorn little clearing just a few metres further towards the centre of the Rye, there was little to suggest that anything untoward had ever happened there, let alone a grisly murder. Apart from some tattered bits of yellow and black crime scene tape hanging from a branch, there didn’t appear to be a single remnant left from the business, let alone a pile of helpful clues.

  Beth and Katie were looking at each other in deep disappointment when a ghastly sound rent the air. It was Colin, who’d sat down on his haunches in the grass close to where Smeaton had been lying, and was letting rip with a bloodcurdling howl.

  Feeling the hairs rise up on her arms at the horrible sound, Beth dashed forward to comfort the old Labrador. There might be nothing visible here to the naked eye, but the dog certainly knew his master had been here – and then had never been seen again.

  Colin was beside himself now, nosing the ground, snuffling the air, turning round restlessly, while Beth tried to calm him. Next thing they knew, Teddy was becoming infected with the nervous skittering that was so uncharacteristic for the older dog but meat and drink to his hyperactive friend. Within seconds, the puppy was bouncing around on the spot, barking frantically, yanking at the lead, and generally being a total and utter Teddy.

  Beth and Katie looked at each other. The situation was deteriorating fast and it was nigh on impossible to scrutinise the place more closely – even if there had seemed to be anything worth gleaning here. As far as they could both see, there was nothing around any more except for lots of flattened tussocks of grass – and two overwrought canines.

  ‘Let’s go, Katie, this isn’t getting us any further. Besides, I’ve got all this money burning a hole in my bag. I need to get home and get rid of it.’

  ‘Don’t you mean, ring your nice boyfriend and ask him to take it off you?’ Katie raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Well… I have left him a message. Not my fault if he’s too busy to call me back, is it? And besides, I just want to count it first.’

  ‘Beth, no! We’ve got to just hand it over. What if there’s “trace” on it, or whatever?’

  Beth tutted. ‘We’re not in the FBI looking for serial killers. Well, at least I hope not.’

  Katie looked around her anxiously, but apart from their own barking and whimpering dogs, the place was quiet. As quiet as the grave. Even the relentless passage of dog-walkers across the Rye could have been happening on another planet. There was nothing stirring here, apart from naughty Teddy and tragic Colin, and they were stirring plenty.

  ‘Anyway,’ said Beth, realising she sounded shifty even to her own ears, ‘I’m dying to know how much money is in the envelope. Aren’t you?’

  Katie met her eyes reluctantly. She nodded. ‘I haven’t seen that much cash in one place since… well, since ever really. It’s like something out of James Bond.’

  ‘Come on then, Miss Moneypenny,’ smiled Beth, secretly thinking that her friend would be perfect as a Bond girl. Those luscious limbs and blonde tresses would fit the part perfectly. Of course, both of them were too modern and resourceful to have anything to do with such an outdated franchise, she told herself sternly. Especially as there never seemed to be parts for those who were a bit more on the sturdy five-foot-nothing side of things, unless she’d wanted to play an Odd Job-style villain, and she didn’t fancy that, thank you very much.

  They walked determinedly out of the copse, back onto the Rye proper. By this point, the dogs were calming down with every step, though Colin did keep looking back as though he couldn’t quite believe he’d left his master behind again. It was very poignant.

  Beth almost wished they could have stayed there and performed some sort of farewell ceremony for Colin, though she had no idea what form that would have taken. She knew that elephants mourned their dead, she knew that dogs could be steadfast, but she’d never seen with her own eyes an animal’s purely heartbroken pain before. She knew pretty much for a fact that Magpie wouldn’t spend more time at her graveside than it took to establish there was no premium cat food hidden in a handy urn. She’d have human mourners, she knew. But there was something impressive and peculiarly moving about what Colin had just been through.

  It made her realise that although Smeaton had become a shadowy and somewhat ill-defined figure as the days had stretched since his slaying, this posh boy-cum-rebel artist had been a flesh and blood man with the sort of sterling qualities required to win the love of a pure soul like Colin. The knowledge made her all the more determined to find who had left him crumpled and dead, his life blood leaking into the Rye.

  Once they’d put some distance between them and the copse, and they were out onto the reassuringly open, slightly bleak heath again, Beth turned to Katie. ‘Is it my imagination, or are people looking at me strangely?’

  Katie looked her quizzically, then scrutinised the dots ahead of them which represented faraway dog-walkers who, even if they were looking in their direction, wouldn’t have been able to make out much at this distance without the assistance of binoculars. ‘I think you’re being a bit paranoid.’

  ‘It’s this money. It’s weighing me down. I’d suggest going back to that café for a coffee, but we can’t very well get it out there and start counting it, can we?’

  Katie laughed. ‘Not unless we want it to be the first item on Belinda MacKenzie’s lunchtime bulletin.’

  Beth flinched instinctively and looked around again. ‘She’s not here, is she? Tell me she’s not.’

  ‘You’re safe, don’t worry,’ Katie said reassuringly. ‘She’s too grand to walk the pooches, anyway. One of her “team” does that.’

  ‘What is the point of having dogs if you don’t walk them yourself?’ Beth muttered, realising she was already sounding like a die-hard dog owner. Though new to the whole canine malarkey, she was already feeling a bit fitter, having had to escort Colin on his sedate perambulations. It somehow seemed like cheating to get someone to take the responsibility off your hands. But that was Belinda MacKenzie all over.

  Despite some moments of rapprochement recently, when Beth had almost thought they could be friendly some day, Belinda had taken the recent downfall of one of her acolytes very hard. True, it had been a shocking business, and had laid bare exactly how far some would go to preserve the outward appearances which Dulwich held so
dear. But it was clear that for Belinda at least, and for the many in SE21 who considered her pronouncements to be law, it was Beth herself who’d been culpable by exposing the true nature of the horrible crime to public comment. Normally Beth didn’t care too much what Belinda and her ilk thought of her. But now that she was concealing a huge quantity of possibly stolen money about her person, she wanted to attract even less attention than usual.

  ‘Listen, I think we should get back to my place as quickly as possible. I’m betting you don’t want to be counting dodgy money in your kitchen?’ Beth asked Katie quickly.

  Though her friend had plunged with surprising enthusiasm into sleuthing, Beth was willing to bet Katie had thought it was just going to involve crossing suspects off a nice tidy list, not tramping through crime scenes and concealing evidence. A shake of her blonde head confirmed Beth’s prognosis, and it wasn’t long before they’d stuffed both dogs back in the car and were on their way back to Pickwick Road.

  ***

  Watching them go, and taking a quick picture of Katie’s car registration with his mobile phone once he was within range, was the man who had silently tailed them all the way from the copse. It wasn’t difficult to merge in with all the rest of the dog-walkers, he thought sourly. Particularly when the people you were following were dim-witted women who spent the whole time chatting to each other and seemed oblivious to anyone else. He’d been a bit worried that the Labrador might have spotted him, even if those harpies hadn’t. But then that dog had always been stupid. Just as stupid as its dead owner.

  ***

  Looking at each other a while later, over the piles of money, Beth and Katie shared the same round-eyed, slack-jawed astonishment. There was £30,000 on the kitchen table.