Till Sudden Death Do Us Part

by Simon R. Green

  Tom Stone introduced himself in a calm languid way, as though to apologize for his fiancé’s manner. He was almost as tall as Gillian, good-looking in a practiced and rather louche way, and effortlessly charming. He was in his late twenties too, with an athlete’s figure, jet-black hair and a handshake he’d clearly practiced to make it as sincere and brief as possible. He was wearing a vintage Black Sabbath T-shirt under a cream jacket, with designer Levis and trainers. He gave us his name with enough emphasis to suggest we were supposed to recognize it.

  ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘Robert told us you were an actor.’

  ‘He’s very talented,’ said Gillian. ‘And he’s going to be big. If I have anything to say about it.’

  ‘No one can stand against Gillian when she puts her mind to something,’ said Tom. ‘She’s like a force of nature. Aren’t you, darling?’

  ‘There’s a bar here, where we can talk privately,’ Gillian said briskly. She shot a quick look at the receptionist, who was clearly drinking in every word. ‘That’s Nettie. She owns this place, though she has to do most of the work herself. Not a bad sort, but it’s hard to have a conversation anywhere in the hotel without looking up to find her hovering in the background.’

  ‘Wouldn’t surprise me if she bugged the rooms,’ said Tom. ‘Just to make sure no one’s getting up to anything they shouldn’t.’ He smiled at Gillian. ‘Though you know I always perform best in front of a camera.’

  A brief snort of laughter forced its way past Gillian’s composure. ‘Stop it, Tom.’

  ‘Certainly, darling. Which way did it go?’

  Gillian led us into the adjoining bar. She didn’t glance back once to make sure we were following, as though it honestly never occurred to her that we wouldn’t. The bar, which was hardly any larger than the lobby, turned out to be deserted. Which was somewhat surprising, at this time of the evening. The illumination was cheerful without being too bright, the tables were clean and the chairs looked comfortable enough. And best of all, no piped music. It all seemed pleasant enough. So where was everyone?

  ‘There’s hardly anyone staying in the hotel,’ said Gillian, answering the question I hadn’t asked. ‘Off season, I suppose. I’ve hardly run into anyone in the corridors, or the restaurant. The food here’s passable, by the way. If you’re not too fussy.’

  ‘Nettie is positive the vicar’s death will pull in the tourists,’ said Tom. ‘People do love a good murder; from a safe distance.’

  ‘You should know,’ said Gillian. ‘You’ve appeared in enough detective shows.’

  ‘Sometimes the detective, sometimes the murderer,’ said Tom. ‘I’m adaptable.’

  The bartender turned out to be a surly teenager, dressed in a formal outfit that would have made him look quite presentable, if he hadn’t been slouching so defiantly. He had a face full of acne and no character, and radiated the standard teenage air of: this is all a waste of my time. He pretended to be immersed in his copy of Kerrang! magazine as we lined up at the bar. Tom murmured that this was Albert, Nettie’s son. I rapped on the wooden bar with a knuckle, loud enough to make Albert jump. He started to glare at me, took a good look and thought better of it. He dropped his magazine and straightened up.

  ‘Is there anything I can do for you, sir?’ he said. In a way that suggested he very much doubted it.

  ‘I’m in the chair!’ Tom said cheerfully. ‘What’s everyone having?’

  Gillian had a glass of house red, Tom had a G&T, Penny had her usual Campari and soda, and I had a brandy. Alcohol doesn’t actually do anything for me, but I learned long ago that people tend to relax more if they think I’m drinking too. Albert busied himself with the drinks as the quickest way of getting rid of us, and we then moved to a table on the other side of the bar. I’d been quietly studying Gillian and Tom’s body language. They seemed easy enough in each other’s company, but Gillian was clearly the dominant partner. In public, at least. And yet … I couldn’t help thinking they both seemed a little too relaxed, for people under a death sentence from a family curse.

  ‘Where are the best man and bridesmaid?’ said Penny, after we’d all tried our drinks. ‘Will they be joining us?’

  ‘They’ve locked themselves in their rooms,’ said Gillian. ‘Though they’ve promised to come out in time for the wedding. David Barnes is Tom’s oldest friend, and I’ve known Karen Nicholls since we started working together.’

  ‘They were both badly affected by the vicar’s death,’ said Tom.

  ‘And you’re not?’ I said.

  ‘It was a shock,’ said Gillian, meeting my gaze steadily. ‘But I don’t let things get to me.’

  ‘I can always rely on Gillian to be strong enough for both of us,’ said Tom, taking a good swig of his drink. ‘But I have to say, I’m surprised how many people around here seem to be taking this whole curse thing very seriously.’

  ‘People have been queuing up all day to take a look at the murder scene,’ said Gillian. ‘Ghoulish, I call it.’

  ‘They all disappeared a bit sharpish, once it started getting dark,’ said Tom.

  ‘Has the vicar’s unusual manner of death attracted much attention from the media?’ I said.

  ‘Not from any of the national papers,’ said Tom. ‘Or any of the television companies. Apparently one dead vicar isn’t a big enough story, these days. Of course, the local paper is all over it, but that’s just one girl reporter and her cameraman.’

  Gillian snorted loudly. ‘She’s loving all this. Interviewing anyone who’ll stand still long enough, and getting photographs of anything that doesn’t run away. She thinks she can make a career out of this story if she plays her cards right, and move up in the world.’ She looked at me thoughtfully. ‘You can bet she’ll fasten on to you soon enough, once she realizes you’re investigating the murder.’

  I didn’t like the idea of media attention. Or anything that might make it harder for me to stay safely under the radar, now I didn’t have the Organization’s usual protections. While I was thinking about that, Penny moved quickly in to fill the pause.

  ‘Robert asked us to work out what’s really going on,’ she said. ‘See if we can get to the bottom of things. And make sure the two of you get married safely, of course.’

  ‘Why you two?’ Gillian said bluntly. ‘Dad went out of his way to assure me that we could trust you, but he didn’t say why. What’s so special about you?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tom. ‘Do tell.’

  ‘Robert and I used to work together,’ I said. ‘Some time ago.’

  ‘Really?’ Gillian was suddenly much more interested in me. ‘Dad would never tell me who he used to work for, except that it was something to do with security and I couldn’t talk about it to anyone. But of course I did. Made me top girl in the playground for years. Are you …?’

  ‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘That’s classified.’

  ‘You don’t know what I was about to ask!’

  ‘Whatever it was, it’s classified,’ I said calmly.

  That actually seemed to reassure her. She liked the idea that I was a professional of some kind, and someone who could be taken seriously.

  ‘But you’re not police?’ said Tom.

  ‘Not as such,’ said Penny, happy to muddy the waters some more. ‘We’re just helping out.’

  Tom studied my face thoughtfully. ‘You don’t look old enough to have worked with Robert before he retired. Have you had work done?’

  Gillian slapped his arm, a little too hard to be playful. ‘Tom! That’s such an actory thing to say!’

  Tom smiled and shrugged, apparently not bothered by the slap. Maybe he was used to it.

  ‘It’s in the genes,’ I said smoothly. ‘I can’t take any credit.’

  Penny looked like she wanted to slap my arm, but settled for smiling determinedly at Tom. ‘We don’t normally get to meet real actors. Have you been in anything we might have seen recently?’

  Tom brightened up immediately, another actor eager to give us his cr
edits. ‘The Deaf Detective? Murder On The Quiet? Death Comes Knocking? No? I was on Coronation Street for several weeks, as a travelling salesman with a secret …’

  Penny recognized some of that. I didn’t. Tom looked quietly resigned, and addressed himself to his drink.

  ‘Never mind, darling,’ said Gillian. ‘You can show them your reviews later.’ She turned back to me. ‘Has Dad been talking to you about that stupid curse?’

  ‘You don’t believe in it?’ I said.

  ‘Of course not!’ said Gillian. ‘It’s just superstitious nonsense!’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Tom. ‘People around here seem to be taking it all extremely seriously …’

  Gillian looked at him, and he stopped talking.

  ‘So you don’t think the Reverend Allen’s death was in any way connected to your wedding?’ said Penny.

  ‘No,’ said Gillian, very firmly. ‘It’s just a horrible coincidence. And it’s not going to stop us getting married tomorrow! Right, Tom?’

  ‘Of course,’ Tom said quickly. ‘Absolutely.’ He looked at me steadily. ‘Gillian’s had her heart set on getting married in her old church, in her old town, with her father leading her down the aisle. And if that’s what Gillian wants, I am ready to do whatever it takes to make sure she gets it.’

  Gillian patted his arm approvingly, and they shared a fond smile.

  ‘What did you make of the Reverend Allen?’ I said.

  ‘We only met him a few times,’ said Gillian. ‘He’s new. Only been in the town a few years.’

  ‘Long enough to make enemies?’ I said.

  ‘No one’s said anything …’ said Gillian. She looked at Tom, who shrugged. She looked back at me. ‘He seemed pleasant enough. But then, that’s part of a vicar’s job, isn’t it?’

  ‘I thought he seemed pleasant,’ said Tom.

  He’d finished his drink, and was glancing restlessly at Gillian and the bar. Apparently he wasn’t allowed to order another drink until Gillian had finished hers. And she was too busy fixing me with her best hard stare.

  ‘What can you do to help, that the regular police can’t?’

  ‘We can ask questions,’ I said. ‘People will often talk to us when they wouldn’t open up to the authorities. And there’s always the chance we might spot something the police have missed.’

  ‘We’re very good at that,’ said Penny.

  Gillian didn’t seem particularly convinced, but she didn’t want to argue.

  ‘I’m just relieved someone’s turned up to help,’ said Tom, jumping valiantly into the pause. ‘I might play a detective on television now and again, but I wouldn’t have a clue what to do in real life.’ He smiled at Gillian. ‘All I can do is look after you. Stand between you and all harm.’

  ‘Of course you will,’ said Gillian. ‘Just like you know I’d never let anything happen to you.’

  She took his hand in hers, and for a moment they only had eyes for each other.

  I cleared my throat, to get their attention back again. ‘Robert said there was a policeman in town. What’s he like?’

  Tom sniffed loudly. ‘Detective Inspector Godwin; straight out of central casting. Young and keen and so far out of his depth scuba gear wouldn’t save him. The one they only send out when everyone else is busy.’

  ‘He was very rude to us!’ said Gillian, her eyes flashing at the memory. ‘Practically accused us of withholding information, just because we didn’t want to talk about the stupid curse!’

  ‘You told him, darling,’ said Tom.

  ‘Damn right I did,’ said Gillian. She gave me another of her hard looks. ‘Are you going to talk to him?’

  ‘Not if I can help it,’ I said.

  Tom leaned forward across the table, suddenly serious. ‘Can you keep Gillian safe? I mean, I’m not worried about the curse, obviously. And I won’t leave her side for a moment until we’re safely married. But there is a murderer out there, somewhere. I had to lock the door and jam a chair up against it last night, before Gillian could get to sleep.’

  ‘He’s very protective,’ said Gillian, shooting Tom another fond look. ‘Even though he knows I can look after myself. Do you think we’ll be safe, once we’re married?’

  ‘If this murder is connected to the curse,’ I said carefully. ‘But there’s always the chance someone is using the curse as a smokescreen, to hide their true motives. The vicar’s death could be connected to you, or your father’s old job, or as you said earlier, it could just be a horrible coincidence. The only sure way for you to be entirely safe, is for us to uncover the murderer.’

  ‘And we’re really very good at that,’ said Penny.

  ‘The two of you were in the church hall, when the vicar was murdered,’ I said.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Gillian. ‘It was a wedding rehearsal. Tom and me, David and Karen, and Dad. We were waiting for the Reverend Allen to join us, so we could discuss some changes to our vows. We didn’t know anything had happened, until that awful bell started ringing and Dad went to see what was up.’

  Tom shuddered, just a bit theatrically. ‘I hate to think that while we were arguing over a few words, that poor man was dying …’

  ‘It wasn’t just a few words,’ Gillian said sharply. ‘It was our wedding vows! These things matter!’

  ‘Of course, darling,’ Tom said quickly. ‘This is your dream wedding. Every detail is important.’

  I decided this would be a good time to leave. I gave the nod to Penny, and we both got to our feet. Gillian and Tom looked at us in surprise.

  ‘You’re going?’ said Gillian.

  ‘Stay and have another drink!’ said Tom.

  ‘There are things we need to do,’ I said. ‘We can talk more later. I think Penny and I need to visit the church. Take in the murder scene, get a feel for the place and a sense of what happened.’

  ‘It was very nice to meet both of you,’ said Penny.

  We left the bar quickly, while Gillian and Tom launched into what sounded like an ongoing discussion about flower arrangements, and who would be sitting next to whom at the reception afterwards.

  As we walked through the lobby, the receptionist hailed us in a high reedy voice. We stopped, and turned to look at her.

  ‘Hello, dears! I’m Nettie, and this is my little domain. Can I just ask; will you be staying with us?’

  ‘We’re guests for the Bergin wedding,’ I said. ‘And we’re staying with Robert Bergin.’

  ‘Oh, that’s nice,’ said Nettie. ‘He could use some company. He’s been all alone since Helen died, the poor thing.’

  ‘Do you know about the family curse?’ said Penny.

  ‘Oh yes, dear,’ said Nettie, quite offhandedly. ‘Everyone around here knows about that. Our one claim to fame.’

  ‘Does everyone believe in it?’ I said.

  ‘Of course, dear!’ said Nettie. ‘We’re all brought up to take every word as gospel.’ She glanced across at the bar. ‘And those poor dears, so determined to go ahead with their wedding, despite everything. So brave … I don’t know where we’re going to find space in the churchyard to bury them …’

  ‘Did you know the vicar?’ I said.

  ‘The Reverend Allen? Of course, dear. Lovely man. Very keen. I don’t go to church myself, you understand, but I’d often see him in the town and he always had a kind word for me. It’s so sad, what’s happened. I keep hoping someone will come along and tell us it was all just a horrible accident.’

  ‘So he didn’t have any enemies?’ said Penny.

  ‘No, dear!’ said Nettie. ‘I’d have heard.’

  ‘Can you give us directions to the church?’ I said.

  Nettie straightened up, to give me her best shocked look. ‘You don’t want to be going there, dear! Not now, not at this time of night.’

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘We’re not scared of the dark.’

  ‘No one ever is, dear,’ said Nettie. ‘Until something comes out of the dark to get them.’

 
She provided us with directions. They were easy enough to follow.

  ‘It’s not far, dear,’ said Nettie. ‘Nothing is, in a small town like this. But you take care now; no one’s safe in Bradenford until the curse has run its course.’

  ‘What if we don’t believe in the curse?’ I said.

  Nettie gave me a pitying look. ‘The curse doesn’t care, dear. That’s what’s so terrible about it.’

  FOUR

  All Kinds of People Come to Church

  There was no one out on the streets, apart from Penny and me. The narrow ways were completely deserted, and as we followed Nettie’s directions to the church we didn’t come into contact with another living soul. Penny kept turning her head restlessly, checking out every side street we passed, and glancing behind us as much as ahead. I kept my gaze fixed on what was in front of me. I knew we were alone; if there had been any other footsteps in the night I would have heard them. There was no traffic, nothing moving, and even our own footsteps sounded unnaturally loud on the quiet. As though the whole town was holding its breath, listening for something it was afraid of.

  I wasn’t scared. It’s my job to make the monsters scared of me.

  The street lights did their best to push back the darkness, but it still felt like we were walking through a ghost town. As though everyone else had run off and abandoned the streets to the night, for some very good reason. The only signs Bradenford was still inhabited lay in the lights that showed behind the drawn curtains of houses we passed. I felt like knocking on doors at random, and demanding to know what the hell was up with everyone. But I was pretty sure no one would answer. This was a town under siege; a town that believed in a curse. People so afraid for their lives that they stayed inside, behind locked doors, and hoped not to be noticed.

  Curtains twitched now and again, from people curious to see who dared to walk their streets so openly at this time of the night. Penny waved cheerfully back whenever this happened, but there was never any response. So we just kept going, like children in a fairy-tale forest who really should have known better.