Ashes by Now

by Mark Timlin

  Christ. We were married once. Love, honour and fucking obey.

  Bitch.

  At least she had the good grace to refuse the money. And why shouldn’t she? Her husband was rolling in it. But, if Judith hadn’t been there, I think she might just have taken it, out of spite.

  Dawn and Tracey were in and out all the time. What a popular pair they were with the other male patients, and doctors in particular.

  They actually rolled in when Laura and Judith were there one afternoon. The girls were on their way to a masonic do in Clerkenwell, where they were going to take off every stitch in honour of the Great Architect.

  Laura’s face was a picture. There they came, the Wandsworth two. Staggering in on the latest glam-rock revival: platform sole and pencil heel, toeless, suede St Louis Blues, their passage not helped by the two or three Drambuie-and-lagers they’d sucked down for lunch. With the shoes, Tracey had opted for a long, tight skirt that was split to the thigh, black fishnet tights, a patchwork tank top sans bra, and a red satin jacket with Concorde lapels. When Tracey went for a look she really went for it. And since I’d been in hospital the ’70s had obviously returned with a vengeance.

  Dawn had stuck with the basic Soho streetwalker image that she loved. Black stockings, with a thin gold chain around the right ankle, black mini-skirt that just covered the tops of them, black satin blouse, unbuttoned to show the lace of her black net bra, and the black shiny plastic mac that the girls took turns to wear. On top of her blonde head, at a rakish angle, was set a black beret. Her slap consisted of solid-state pan stick, sooty mascara, and shiny red Monroe lipstick. Tracey had gone for a full rainbow psychedelic ’70s make-up job to go with the rest of her outfit.

  Those two would stop traffic on Resurrection Day. And probably will.

  As they pushed their way through the ward door and wobbled over to my bed, Laura turned and said, ‘I imagine these two are with you.’

  I just nodded.

  Judith was gobsmacked by the sight of them.

  ‘Hello, Nick,’ said Tracey. ‘Fuck me, have we had a journey today. Old Bill gave us a pull in Herne Hill. I think they thought we was on the game or sumfin’.’ She suddenly noticed Judith and Laura. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Are we interruptin’ anyfin’?’ When Tracey was agitated, her accent zeroed in on Bermondsey where she’d been born and bred, and nothing would get it any further up river.

  Except a stiff drink that is.

  ‘No,’ I said mildly. ‘Not a thing. This is my ex-wife Laura, and this is my –’ I almost said ‘little girl’, before I realised, just in time, the kind of look that Judith would give me if I did ‘– daughter, Judith. This is Dawn and Tracey. Friends of mine. They’ve been visiting almost every day to make sure I’m all right.’

  Laura managed a smile that would curdle milk, and offered her hand like the Queen Mother unveiling a war memorial. Judith swallowed and said, ‘Hi.’

  ‘I like your ’at,’ said Tracey, referring to Judith’s backwards-facing baseball cap. ‘Dead good, eh, Dawn?’

  ‘Wicked,’ Dawn replied. ‘Mind if I sit down, Nick? These bleeding shoes might look the business, but they’re murder on my poor old feet.’

  She collapsed on to the edge of the bed, and her skirt shot up over the tops of her stockings to expose three inches of milk-white thighs, bisected by black suspenders. Poor Laura almost fainted dead away.

  She used to be as horny as fuck herself once. And nothing fazed her. I always find it sad when people change.

  Tracey sat on the other side of the bed and looked long and hard at me.

  I hadn’t told anyone what had happened that night on the Lion, and how I ended up in a gutter in Peckham. If anyone asked, and they did, including two local CID who I’d never met before, and didn’t particularly want to meet again, I told them I couldn’t remember. That I must have been mugged. The fact that I’d still had my wallet on me when I was picked up, cash and ID intact, sort of blew that one out of the water, but there you go.

  ‘You look much better, Nick,’ Tracey said.

  ‘Good,’ I said. ‘I’m glad you think so. I feel much better, too.’

  ‘We’ll have you right as rain in no time, as soon as you’re out of this dump. Eh, Dawn?’

  ‘Course we will,’ Dawn replied. ‘Some good home cooking and you’ll be tickety-boo.’

  I felt like I was beginning to hallucinate again. Tracey and Dawn’s idea of home cooking was ten minutes in the microwave at full blast for anything from a TV dinner to a five-pound oven-ready chicken. I expect the domestic bit was for Laura’s benefit.

  ‘I can’t wait,’ I said.

  ‘You from round ’ere?’ Tracey asked Laura.

  ‘Aberdeen actually,’ replied Laura in her best lady-of-the-manor fashion. She was beginning to piss me right off. Tracey and Dawn were genuine twenty-four carat. And they gave a shit about me. Which was more than my ex-wife had done for more years than I cared to remember. And she was treating them like they were dirt. Or perhaps I was being too hard on her. At least she’d come down. And brought Judith. She needn’t have bothered. Or perhaps it was that I’d never got over the fact that she’d dumped me, even though I’d asked for it. Who can tell with human nature?

  ‘Where you staying?’ asked Tracey.

  ‘The Connaught,’ replied Laura. ‘We always stay there when we’re in town.’

  And she was moaning about money.

  I saw the look that Tracey gave Dawn. I just knew that the guns were coming out. With a vengeance.

  ‘We done a show there once, remember, Dawn?’ she said.

  I winced. I knew we were in for some memoirs from the skin game, probably in extremely graphic detail, and I just knew that Laura would have a fit.

  ‘Are you singers?’ asked Judith, who suddenly found her voice and saved the day.

  ‘No, love,’ said Dawn. ‘We’re…’ And she suddenly fell in with how old Judith was. ‘… Well sort of. All-round entertainers, really.’ And she winked at Trace, who, thank God, fell in too, bless her.

  ‘That’s right, Judith love,’ she said. ‘All-round entertainers. That’s us.’

  Laura obviously wasn’t so sure. ‘We’d better be going and leave you with your friends, Nick,’ she said. ‘We’ll pop in later. You know we’re off first thing tomorrow.’

  ‘OK, Laura,’ I said, and winked at Judith. ‘Going shopping?’ I asked.

  Judith nodded.

  ‘Spend lots of Louis’s money,’ I said. ‘I’m sure he won’t mind.’

  Laura scowled, gathered her things together, and she and Judith left.

  ‘Who’s Louis?’ asked Dawn

  ‘Her husband.’

  ‘Were you really married to her?’ asked Tracey. ‘She looks like she’s got sandpaper in her knickers.’

  I had to laugh. What a woman.

  ‘But your daughter seems nice,’ she went on.

  ‘She gets that from me,’ I said.

  ‘God help her then,’ said Dawn.

  I had lots of other visitors too. Des, my old mate from Covent Garden, came in to see me. And my two friends who had been christened Charles: Charlie, the mechanic who serviced my cars; and Chas who worked on the South London Press, and who’d got involved with me on a recent case.

  Charlie didn’t ask what had happened to me. He wasn’t the inquisitive type, except when it came to working out why a car wouldn’t start.

  Chas, on the other hand, was full of questions. Like the rest, I told him I couldn’t remember.

  He believed me like he believed that the Pope was a Jew.

  Robber came back a couple times too. Nosing about to see what he could find. But I just took the piss until he went away again.

  Other people came too. Too numerous to mention really. Some I expected, and some I was surprised to see.

  But t
he biggest surprise of all was the day before I was due to be discharged, when Detective Inspector Terry Collier paid me a visit.

  I don’t mind telling you that the sight of him scared me half to death, if you’ll excuse the expression.

  I was still dreaming about what happened that night on the Lion – not pleasant dreams as you can imagine – and when he walked into the ward for real my mouth went dry and I felt the sweat break out all over my body. Pure fear. And he knew it.

  And I knew that until he was out of circulation one way or another, the mere thought of him would always have that effect on me.

  He strolled up to the side of my bed and said, ‘Hello, Nick. How’s your bad luck?’

  ‘All the worse for seeing you,’ I replied.

  I didn’t want him to know just how scared I was.

  ‘That’s not a nice thing to say when an old friend and colleague comes calling. I’d’ve bought you flowers, but the shop was shut.’

  ‘Thanks for the thought,’ I said. ‘But you needn’t have bothered.’

  ‘No bother. I just thought I’d pop in to see how you were getting on. I hear you’re off home tomorrow.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Had any other visitors from the force?’

  ‘As if you didn’t know.’

  He pretended to look hurt. ‘Well, have you?’

  ‘Sure I have. A couple of local DCs, and an old friend of mine too.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Jack Robber.’

  ‘What did he want?’

  ‘To find out who put me here.’

  ‘But you didn’t tell.’

  I shook my head.

  ‘So what did you tell them?’

  ‘Nothing. That I didn’t know what did happen. And you know that too, Collier. Otherwise they’d have been round to see you and your mate.’

  ‘Just checking.’

  ‘You’ve got some fucking nerve coming here,’ I said. And I could feel the sweat break out on my upper lip.

  ‘Is that right?’

  ‘You were going to kill me that night.’

  ‘Fuck off. Course not.’

  ‘I remember.’

  ‘No mate. You were too badly off.’ He sat on the edge of the bed, just like an old friend come to call.

  ‘I suppose I took a nasty fall. Like Grant did in the station that night.’

  ‘No mate. You took what you deserved. We’d been waiting a long time for that. And forget all about Grant. He was just a nasty little nonce. You’re the last person I would have expected to stick up for one of them. You saw enough of that in the job, didn’t you?’

  I didn’t reply. I was at a disadvantage, being still weak and all tucked up in bed, and he knew it.

  ‘So do yourself a favour,’ he went on. ‘Keep your nose out of what doesn’t concern you any more. We know who your friends are, and where they are, and what they do. It would be a terrible shame if something bad happened to one of them.’

  I came off the bed, fists clenched. ‘You bastard. Leave my friends out of this,’ I shouted, and I saw heads turn right along the ward.

  ‘Keep your voice down,’ said Collier. ‘We don’t want everyone listening in on our business. Now look here, Sharman. You had a result that night. Don’t push your luck. Next time you might not.’

  Jesus. Next time. That’s what I was frightened of.

  ‘Forget about Grant, and forget everything else that happened. Like I said, next time you might not be so lucky. And those tarts of yours who keep coming in to look after you. They might not be so lucky either. You’ve had a couple of months in here at the taxpayers’ expense. How bad? Just go home and get well, and look after your own backyard in future. Understand?’

  I understood only too well. The thought of him and Millar getting hold of Tracey and Dawn made me go cold all over.

  ‘You as much as touch those two, and –’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ he said. ‘Don’t act tough with me. You’ve been nearly shitting your pants since I came in. I asked you if you understood.’

  I nodded. What was the point of pretending. He had me exactly where he wanted me.

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘So we both understand each other. I like that. Well, I’ll be off now. People to see, places to go. You know how it is. With any luck we’ll never see each other again. Goodbye, Sharman.’ He stuck out his hand for me to shake.

  Christ, but that was about the last straw.

  I ignored it. Brave boy, aren’t I?

  ‘Please yourself,’ he said, and turned on his heel and left.

  But I’m not dead yet, I thought, as he swaggered out of the ward. And it’ll be a long time before you and your mate get another go. And it can’t be just a miscarriage of justice twelve years ago that you’re so worried about. There’s something more. A lot more. And it all has to do with a piece of paper that you have. A piece of paper that, thank God, I didn’t mention, and you’ve probably forgotten I even know about.

  You made a mistake, Collier. A mistake that one day you’re going to pay for.

  You didn’t kill me when you had the chance.

  20

  Dawn and Tracey took me home in their little Renault Five. They’d been round to the flat and given it a good going-over, and filled the fridge up with goodies from the Marks and Sparks chilled cabinets.

  I was still a bit weak and wobbly, but I’d get better. I had to. There was a lot to do.

  I started off by explaining to them exactly what had happened the night I was beaten almost to death, and the events that had led up to it.

  I thought it was the right thing to do. No, I knew it was the right thing to do. Terry Collier had threatened them as well as me. If they wanted to split, now was the time.

  When I’d finished the story and a bottle of weak French lager, I said, ‘I don’t want to put you two into any danger. These people are bad. And they’re powerful. We aren’t. There’s lots of ways they can get to us. There’s only one way to get to them. I have to find out what really happened that day in Brixton. For some reason Collier and Grisham and Millar needed a scapegoat. They had Sailor, and they done him up like a kipper. I don’t know why, but I intend to find out. It’s obvious that I was right all along. He didn’t rape and kill that girl, but for sure someone did. I’m not going to be safe from those bastards until I find out who. And if you stick around, nor will you be. Maybe I should have told you before. Maybe not. I don’t know. Maybe I was just being selfish about it. You were great to me in hospital. And coming round here, doing the cleaning, doing the shopping, I appreciate it. But now might be the time for you to leave. Collier’s been keeping an eye on all of us since Sailor came out of prison. He knew about us being together, and it’s damn sure he’ll know if you don’t see me any more. Maybe you’ll be safe then. I mean the bloke’s crazy. Maybe it won’t make any difference. Maybe he intends to hurt anyone I’m fond of just out of spite. I know he’s capable of it. That’s the trouble. I don’t know what he intends to do. I don’t know exactly how crazy he is. But I do know that he and Millar were going to kill me that night, and I was lucky to get out of that car when I did.

  ‘And if he does hurt you, I’ll never forgive myself. It’s bad enough that Sailor topped himself. If I’d listened when he came out of jail, perhaps he wouldn’t have. If I’d’ve listened all those years ago in Brixton nick, it’s for sure he wouldn’t have. I’ve got to live with that. What I couldn’t live with is if either of you got hurt. So I think that it would be better all round if you just left now, and forgot that I ever existed.’

  Dawn, who was sitting on the sofa next to Tracey, went and got me another beer. I was in bed. Like I said, I was still a bit weak.

  When she returned and sat next to me on the edge of the bed she said, ‘You’re sure they were going to kill you?’

 
‘Damn sure. They were going to take me up the marshes and bury me.’

  ‘Dirty sluices,’ exploded Tracey. ‘If I ever get my hands on them –’

  ‘Don’t even think about it,’ I interrupted.

  ‘Who do you think did kill that girl – Carol Harvey, was it?’ said Dawn.

  ‘I don’t know, but I think that Collier and Millar do, and maybe Grisham too, the other officer involved. It was for sure that something weird went down the night they beat the confession out of Grant.’

  ‘But they never told you.’

  ‘I’d only just arrived on the strength. They didn’t know if they could trust me.’

  ‘So what are you going to do?’ Dawn asked.

  ‘Get a portfolio together. Find out where all the main characters are now, and what they’re doing. Write out the story, or at least the parts I know of it, and try and make some sense of it. There’s so few people I can speak to, see. I don’t really know, Dawn, to tell you the truth. But I’m supposed to be a detective. Maybe I can detect what really happened. Find out what this piece of paper is. If it’s anything at all, and not just a figment of my imagination. I was pretty bad when I heard them talking. Maybe I heard them wrong.’

  ‘Can we help?’

  ‘Sure. Course you can. I’m not going to be too mobile for a bit. But if you do, we’ve got to be careful. If Collier and his mob find out what I’m up to, the shit will really hit the fan. And I don’t mean maybe.’

  Dawn looked at Tracey. ‘What do you reckon, Trace?’

  Tracey shrugged. ‘I couldn’t care less,’ she said. ‘It might be a bit of a laugh.’

  ‘It might not and all,’ I interrupted. ‘It’s serious this. Deadly serious. You two are vulnerable, what with the way you earn. They could bust you in a minute.’

  ‘Fuck ’em,’ said Dawn. ‘I think you’re getting us confused with people who give a shit.’

  It was exactly what I’d wanted her to say.