Beautiful Death

by Fiona McIntosh

  Lily felt herself flush with embarrassment. ‘Um, can I take this to a . . .’ she checked the order, ‘Mrs Holt?’

  ‘You can leave it here,’ the brusque woman said. ‘One of the nurses will take it through.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Lily said, flashing the sister a dazzling smile. It didn’t work.

  She hurried back outside. She had an enormous number of deliveries this morning. It was lucky she’d found favour with the hospital car park attendants who let her bring the van in for a precise twenty minutes. Fortunately the cranky sister had saved her some delivery time and she rang Jack as she ran back towards the van.

  He answered quickly. ‘Can’t bear to be apart from me, can you?’

  She laughed. ‘You’re on for tomorrow night, but you’d better make good on that promise.’

  ‘I’m going out to buy everything we need later today.’

  This set her giggling again. Jack needed no props. Lily wasn’t what anyone could possibly consider enormously sexually experienced, but it didn’t take much to know whether you were satisfied. And Lily felt only joy and pleasure in Jack’s arms.

  ‘So where are you?’ he continued.

  ‘The hospital. Deliveries. The usual stuff. You?’

  ‘Huge day. You won’t hear much more from me. I’m just about to go into a meeting. I’m heading up a new operation that I suspect is going to be all-consuming.’

  ‘Bad timing,’ she said quietly.

  She heard him sigh softly. ‘Yes, it is. But I’ll definitely see you tomorrow evening.’

  ‘Is this our goodbye, Jack?’ she suddenly asked, her throat tightening.

  ‘No, are you crazy? But yesterday I didn’t know I was going to be handed one of the most urgent police operations in the country.’

  ‘Okay, sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. I’m just going to be hard to reach and not always reliable. I gotta go, Lily.’ He sounded distracted, as though someone had called him.

  ‘I’ll come to your place tomorrow at seven.’

  ‘I’ll be undressed.’

  She smiled sadly. ‘Bye.’

  Leaving Jack was going to be so hard. Whenever she thought about it she felt miserable. The fault was hers for allowing this doomed relationship any oxygen to breathe and flourish. She had known better than to accept his first tentative invitation to go out some time. Her mother had seen her talking to him outside the florist shop in Chinatown almost twelve weeks ago now. But Lily had been appropriately evasive and Jack had fortunately stepped into the store and bought some carnations as though their conversation had been purely incidental. Far from it, of course; he had deliberately come to talk to her. And the truth was Jack had been irresistible from the moment he had breezed into her parents’ shop two years ago, running desperately late for a date and needing to apologise with flowers. That in itself had endeared him to her. Any man who pauses long enough to know that flowers always help earned points with her. And he had not skimped. She recalled how he’d agreed with her that the Dutch spring tulips, though pricey, were the only way to redeem himself with his date. She loved that he’d come looking for her again having not forgotten her subtle flirtation. Jack made her warm in places that Jimmy would never reach, even with his money and promises of a lavish lifestyle.

  She slammed the van’s sliding door shut.

  ‘Hello, Lily,’ someone said behind her, and turning around, shifting the bouquets she held to one side, she saw a familiar face.

  ‘Oh, hello you. Hold these a sec, would you? I’ve just got to lock the van again and switch off my phone or I’ll get into more trouble.’

  Namzul obliged. ‘How are you?’ he asked as she flicked the van’s remote, her eyes already moving to her mobile phone. He watched her power it down.

  ‘I’m great, thank you.’

  He smiled shyly. ‘You always look great.’

  ‘You’re sweet.’

  Namzul gave a big theatrical sigh. ‘That’s what all the girls say.’

  Lily gave his arm a friendly squeeze. ‘So what are you up to?’

  ‘Oh this and that. You know I like to help out at the hospital. It’s the only charity I can find time for.’

  ‘I think it’s wonderful. But how a schoolteacher finds time to do voluntary work is pretty incredible.’

  ‘I do relief teaching, so it’s not full time. I can spare a few hours now and then to help out, especially as I speak the languages that so many of the patients need.’

  ‘Now you make me feel guilty. I feel like I should offer to do Meals on Wheels.’

  He smiled. ‘Have you got time for a coffee? I was just headed out to —’

  Her mouth twisted in apology. ‘No, I’ll get killed if I don’t get these all off to the wards,’ she said, reaching to take the bouquets from him. ‘Mum and I got up at three this morning to get everything ready!’

  ‘You work too hard, beautiful Lily. Listen, I know you’re in a rush but can I ask for your advice?’

  ‘Sure,’ she said brightly, beginning to walk into the hospital. ‘Walk and talk, Nam. I could use the protection as I’m going back to that dreadful ward where Nazis lurk.’

  He gave her a quizzical look and she batted a hand as though it was not worth the bother explaining. He fell into step beside her, pushing open doors to ease her way. ‘I’m thinking of selling my flat.’

  ‘Oh, okay. I didn’t realise you owned it. You’re in Brick Lane, aren’t you?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, I think I’ll do well from it, even though it’s quite poky as they say.’ He gave a small chortle.

  ‘Namzul, you’ll make a killing. Not bad at all for a relief schoolteacher.’

  He shrugged. ‘I had help from relatives and I bought when no one else wanted to live there. I promise you, Lily, it’s really tiny.’

  ‘So how can I help?’ she asked, checking the directions over his shoulder so she was definitely headed to the west wing. And as if on cue another of the nursing sisters appeared.

  ‘Ah, Miss Wu, more flowers. My ward?’

  She’d forgotten her name. ‘I’m afraid so, Nurse er . . .’

  ‘Sister Beckitt,’ she answered crisply. ‘You may call me “Sister”.’

  ‘These four bouquets are all for your ward, Sister.’

  ‘Indeed. You might like to suggest to your customers that they pay for vases as well. We don’t have an endless supply.’ The sister pursed her lips and sailed past them.

  Bitch, Lily mouthed to her companion.

  ‘Jealousy’s a curse. Just look at her varicose veins — and her uniform is a little snug, don’t you think?’ Namzul made Lily laugh.

  ‘Come on, keep walking with me,’ she said cheerily. ‘Tell me about your flat.’

  ‘Well, it’s just that the place needs brightening. I don’t have money to buy new furniture or redecorate but the estate agent said most new owners like to do it all themselves anyway. The place is painted in a plain off-white and I thought some vases of flowers would be . . . you know . . . helpful.’

  ‘Oh, right. Do you want me to make some suggestions or just order something — you’d need to let me know how many bunches, what sort of budget and so on.’ They had paused by the central Victorian staircase.

  ‘I know it’s a big favour, but Lily I’ve got no idea and my flat is just around the corner.’ Namzul smiled shyly. ‘Do you think you could drop by, just for a minute, and decide what I need? You know best.’

  She frowned. She didn’t really have time, but she liked Namzul. She’d known him for the four years she’d been delivering flowers to the hospital, and he always had a quick smile, a ready compliment for her and had helped her quite a few times carrying flowers and potplants to and from the wards. He’d never asked for anything in return, and although they weren’t close friends, they shared a coffee now and then in the gardens and almost always had a good laugh. He was a lonely fellow, she sensed, but he didn’t show it and was always in a happy frame of mind. Plus Namzul didn’t eye her in the s
ame hungry way that other men around the hospital did. She felt safe with Namzul.

  ‘Er . . .’ Torn, she really didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Oh go on, Lily, help me out. I’ll buy you lunch if I sell it and you know I’ll pay whatever you ask for the flowers.’

  She grinned, shrugged. ‘Okay. Look I’ll be through here in about, ooh let’s see,’ she said, glancing at her watch, ‘about ten minutes. I have to get back to the store for the next round of drops so this is going to have to be lightning fast you understand.’

  He grabbed and kissed her hand. ‘Thanks, Lily. Two minutes, I promise. Just run upstairs, have a look around and then you can go back to the shop and organise it all.’

  ‘Fine. But I’ll be there really soon and you’d better have somewhere I can leave my van. I’m not spending ages looking for parking, you know what it’s like around here.’

  He waved his hand as if it was of no consequence. ‘You’re in a van, no problem. There’s deliveries in Brick Lane all day long because of the restaurants. As you enter the street, look for the signage that says Jahan Balti Cuisine. I live above the restaurant, top floor. There’s a side lane and you can stop there for a minute or so. It’s a loading bay.’

  ‘Don’t keep me waiting,’ she warned, heading down the stairs, cradling the flowers.

  When Lily arrived, it was exactly as Namzul had promised, and easy to park. She slammed the door of the van shut, flicked the lock and looked for the entrance to the flats near Jahan Balti Cuisine. She found the doorway and entered the darkened hall and headed upstairs. The fragrance of various curries wafted from the restaurant and reminded her it was almost lunchtime. She wasn’t fond of spicy north Indian food, but she had eaten breakfast just before three o’clock, and it was nearly noon. Suddenly naan bread and the thick rich gravy of a chicken curry seemed appetising.

  She looked up and saw Namzul peering over the banister. ‘You’ve got me for one minute,’ she laughingly warned him.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ he nodded, ‘that’s all I need.’

  Lily arrived at the doorway and he beamed. ‘Welcome, Miss Lily. Come in and tell me how to make my killing.’

  She walked ahead of him already imagining the brightness of some spring daffodils. He wouldn’t have to spend a lot in fact. He just needed a bright splash of colour and plenty of it. She was just considering whether some sunny white daisies might add a clean crispness when a new smell assaulted her. Gone was the fragrance of cooking and in its place was the overpowering smell of chemicals and suddenly she was inhaling it directly from an old T-shirt. Lily struggled to turn, her dark almond shape eyes staring, confused, terrified into the face of someone she thought was a friend. She began to scream beneath the shirt but Namzul simply pressed it harder to her nose and mouth and the screaming only accelerated the passage of the dizzying fumes into her body. She began to feel nauseous. Was he going to rape her? Lily thought of Jack. Tears squeezed at the corner of her eyes. She felt herself letting go; her knees no longer supported her. Namzul was helping her down as she sank to the worn-out rug and for some reason concentrated on a spider that was crawling up the pale wall that definitely needed daffodils to cheer them. She worried that the spider might find its way into the chicken curry and that Jack would never get his Dutch tulips. Her thoughts were colliding, as her mind unravelled.

  Fingers of darkness grabbed at Lily and the smell of petrol or turpentine, or was it meths? — she didn’t know — clung to her and finally overwhelmed her.

  Lily never heard Namzul’s soft apology, nor did she know she was hurried between two men into the back of her van and that it was driven to a place on the River Lea, not far from the rowing club. And there, as she began to resurface from her stupor, she became aware of being carried onto a boat of some sort. She could smell water, hear it. She could also hear men talking. Then an engine was gunned, sputtered and then gunned again before it caught.

  Lily began to suck in big breaths. She felt sick. Hungover. She also felt angry. Reaching for her phone she heard a voice address her. It was not Namzul.

  ‘Lily, I think you’re looking for this,’ a man said, and it took all her wits to simply focus on what he held up. It was her mobile. ‘But you won’t be needing it any more.’ He threw it out of a window. She didn’t hear the splash. She couldn’t even make out his features, although he seemed to have ringlets. Was she going mad?

  ‘Who are you?’ That’s what she thought she said, but she couldn’t be sure.

  He seemed to understand. ‘My name’s Schlimey. I’m your escort.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m going to be sick.’

  He held a bowl to her and she started to retch, but mercifully it didn’t escalate. Her stomach was empty.

  ‘Breathe deeply,’ he suggested.

  The cabin seemed to swirl a little more slowly. She could make out shape and form. On her breath she tasted almonds — it was the chemical that had made her pass out. ‘Why did Namzul do that?’

  ‘Because we asked him to,’ Schlimey’s voice answered from somewhere. She couldn’t concentrate on where.

  ‘We?’

  ‘Don’t think, Lily. Just breathe. I need you breathing.’

  ‘Are you going to hurt me?’

  ‘You won’t feel a thing,’ Schlimey promised.

  ‘When?’

  ‘When you die,’ he said.

  4.

  Kate was thrilled to hear his voice. She didn’t flatter herself that he was calling for any social reason, although they’d stayed in touch — even if in the last year it had been via infrequent one-liner emails.

  ‘Jack! Much too long since we’ve spoken,’ she gushed into her mobile.

  ‘Where are you working, Kate?’ His tone was businesslike.

  ‘Operation Minstead for almost a year, based at Lewisham.’

  ‘Ah, the ghetto for all hot young DIs.’ Did she detect a glimmer of warmth?

  ‘You’re kidding, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’m not actually. I’m convinced it’s a rite of passage these days, but I’m sure you’re lending the perfect female touch. How are you getting on?’

  She paused. ‘Why? Are you about to make me an offer I can’t refuse?’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘Then the answer’s yes!’

  ‘You don’t want to know what it is?’ She could hear the amusement in his voice and berated herself for still being so vulnerable and, yes, so obvious where DCI Hawksworth was concerned.

  ‘I presume it’s a job and we work well together, Jack,’ she said, trying hard to sound detached, professional. ‘And I know for you to be offering a job, means you’re heading up a case and that leads me to think it’s likely to be a juicy one, perhaps even a high-profile one. Yeah, I want in.’

  ‘Then welcome to the team. I’ve already asked your boss and he says you’ve done a fine job for Minstead but that I can second you to Operation Panther from today.’

  ‘Panther, eh? Finished with rivers, we’re onto the big cats.’

  ‘It’s a big operation, I think.’

  ‘What are we working on?’

  She heard him sigh. ‘A series of deaths. Grisly. I’ll tell you all when the team gathers tomorrow bright and early over at Victoria Street. Top floor again.’

  ‘Excellent. Thanks, Jack, I needed this.’

  ‘Bored again?’

  Her expression clouded. She confronted what sat between them. ‘Why haven’t we caught up?’

  He hesitated. ‘I thought you needed space. Dan —’

  ‘It’s over between me and Dan.’ She was deliberately blunt, peeved that he hadn’t sensed that she and her former fiancé had no future together.

  Now his pause felt awkward. It took everything she had not to leap in and fill the gap but she waited until he responded. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. I thought you were trying.’

  ‘We did for a while, but there was no magic.’

  ‘There was for Dan,’ he said quietly. ‘Did you know we me
t?’

  ‘Met? After the operation was over, do you mean?’

  ‘Yes, after I returned from Australia. Early in 2004.’

  ‘Why?’ Her fury ignited.

  She could almost see Jack Hawksworth’s smoky grey eyes darkening. She knew he was shrugging when he answered. ‘I felt I owed it to him when he rang and asked if we could meet.’

  ‘What did he want?’ she demanded, although she already knew the answer.

  ‘Just to talk, nothing sinister. He admitted how much he loved you and couldn’t bear to lose you.’

  ‘But I didn’t hear a word from you?’ she asked.

  ‘It didn’t seem right for a while with all that he was trying to come to terms with. I knew that you were trying to make a go of it.’

  ‘Dan and I barely lasted a few months, Jack,’ she said, disgusted now. ‘I can’t believe this.’

  ‘Look, that’s your business, Kate. I met Dan because he asked me. It was a one-off to help out a guy who sounded low. I’ve been working with DPS for the last few months. I haven’t seen anyone. Geoff’s in the same building and I haven’t caught up with him for a beer in so long he must be wondering if I’ve dropped off the planet.’

  ‘Where are you based?’

  ‘I’ve been working in Ipswich mainly.’

  ‘I thought you’d never work for the Ghosts,’ she said, a fresh tone of accusation in her voice.

  ‘I needed to get back in the saddle somewhere after Operation Danube. Sharpe thought the Directorate of Professional Standards would be a good place to start. Geoff agreed. To be honest I’ve enjoyed it.’

  ‘But now Sharpe wants you back in his camp,’ she said.

  ‘It’s a major operation. Are you sure you want in?’

  ‘You know I do.’

  ‘Then stop being such a bloody hardarse.’

  He was right. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just . . . ’

  ‘No need to explain. Just arrive tomorrow knowing it’s going to be a hard slog. We’ve got absolutely nothing to go on but the pressure’s on from the top to get this done before it turns into a circus.’