‘Over there,’ she repeated, pointing past the turnstile towards the bookshelves, and a round table and two chairs. I'd just started to fill in the form when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned, and there stood Gwenda Carey.
‘You're looking well,’ I said in surprise. And she did. She'd gained weight and her face had lost its anguished expression. She wore a peach-coloured dress, her slim neck adorned by a row of pearls. Clear eyes told me she was off the booze.
‘I did it!’ she said eagerly.
‘Did what?’
‘Got a job here, of course. I can't thank you enough for giving me the idea.’
I felt genuinely pleased for her, and for myself. I needed information. ‘I'm so glad, Gwenda,’ I said. ‘Perhaps you could help me.’
‘Of course I will, although I'm a real junior. Still, it's lovely not having any responsibility. What can I do for you?’
‘I want to find a book on diabetes. Not just any book. A friend recommended it, but I can't remember the title.’
‘That's a tall order. What's your friend's name? I could see if any of the librarians know her.’
‘Margaret Tonbridge.’
‘You hang on and I'll see what I can do.’
Gwenda walked off and I could tell even by the way she moved that she'd gained confidence.
It was about twenty minutes before she came back. ‘You're in luck,’ she said. ‘It's called Diabetes Made Simple by Alice Grace. Only trouble is it's out at the moment. Overdue, actually. A reminder note was just being sent.’
‘Who to?’
‘Your friend, Margaret Tonbridge. I'm surprised she didn't tell you she'd still got it.’
‘She's had a lot on her mind lately,’ I said. ‘Thanks anyway.’
Gwenda smiled. ‘You take care.’ And then she added brightly, ‘I see you've had another injury.’
My hand shot to my head to flick my hair over my shaved patch and the remaining sutures.
‘Don't worry,’ she said. ‘I only caught the merest glimpse when your hair moved. What happened?’
‘It's a very long story, Gwenda. Next time I come to the library I'll tell you all about it.’
She walked with me to the door after I'd selected a book called The Joy of Tomatoes.
‘I think I made the right decision,’ she said with a serene smile. ‘Detective work seems just as dangerous as teaching.’
‘It's just the way I do it.’ And I laughed as I waved her goodbye. Outside in the High Street I stood for a moment gazing at the darkening sky. Battalions of great black clouds were on the march, scudding into ranks ready for the onslaught. Perhaps it wouldn't be war, I consoled myself, just a few skirmishes. And rain or no rain I was going to the hospital tonight. I just hoped Hubert would still be willing.
On the way home I bought fish and chips, the heat from the packet rising like steamy nectar, but by the time I arrived back at the cottage, steamy had become soggy. I ate them anyway, every single chip, because I had moments of slight panic if my next meal was to be more than a few hours away. And tonight, I really didn't know when I'd be through.
I got ready for action early. Dressed in thermal vest, black track suit, never worn before and bought only because it was reduced, and in the belief it might make me look reduced too. Then I sat by the window and watched the sky.
There wasn't long to wait before the black sky jettisoned its ammunition. The rain fell and fell, an unrelenting barrage that hit the ground, bounced up again, drummed frantically on the roof and poured out of the guttering like a flushing loo. Occasionally my eyes strayed from the rain to the telephone. I expected Hubert to ring and cancel. He didn't. I had to admire his courage.
As I put on my green wellies and beige raincoat I pulled the collar up to get me in the mood. A trilby hat would have made me feel more the part, but all I had in the way of headgear was one of those plastic hoods. And I couldn't remember where I'd put it, and anyway it would have looked ridiculous.
The last thing I did before leaving was to collect a sharp knife from the kitchen drawer and pick up my piece de résistance – a condom filled with tomato sauce and tied tightly at the top. I placed both very carefully in my raincoat pocket.
Hubert was waiting for me, parked outside on the main road by the hospital gates. There was no mistaking his car even in a deluge. It was long, wide, white and American. As I parked directly behind it I could see Hubert's straight back. He was wearing a hat. He didn't acknowledge my toot on the horn, so I waited for a while with the engine running and the headlights illuminating Hubert's car. Then I switched off the ignition and as the windscreen wipers died the rain made it impossible to see anything.
I ran the few paces head down, my hair soon plastered to my head, and banged on his car window. Hubert looked at me for a moment as if he didn't quite recognise me and then he leaned over slowly and opened the passenger door.
‘I thought for a moment you weren't going to let me in.’
‘I thought you'd change your mind when you saw this lot,’ he said reproachfully, as he continued to stare out into the murk ahead.
‘It's only rain,’ I said as I settled myself beside him.
We sat in silence for a while, listening to the rain beating on the car roof, while inside the car our breath condensed like fog on the windscreen, and the light of the lamp outside the hospital smeared like trickles of orange juice in our line of vision.
‘Come on, Hubert,’ I pleaded, like a mother to her sulky child, ‘let's get on with it. We'll be finished in no time at all.’
‘I'm not leaving my car here,’ he said.
‘That's okay. Drive into the grounds, turn left under the arch and we'll be quite near the ward then.’
He drove in slowly without speaking and parked near the bike shed.
‘You don't have to do anything at the moment, Hubert,’ I said. ‘Just sit here and wait for me.’
‘Where are you going? If I wasn't needed I wouldn't have come.’
‘I shall need you later, really I will. But I want to ride that bike to Margaret's house.’
Hubert's eyes followed my finger to the lone bike. A smile – or was it a smirk – crossed his face. ‘I hope it's not far.’
‘I want to time myself, that's all. You see if she did murder Jacky I think she biked home first, collected the knife and then rode back to lie in wait.’
‘So I've just got to sit here?’
‘That's the idea, Hubert.’
‘Just hurry up then,’ he said. ‘And be careful.’
‘I like your hat, Hubert,’ I said, flattery being the highest form of creeping. It worked. He looked in his overhead mirror, pulled the browny-green hat a touch forward and smiled as if pleased with what he saw.
‘All it needs is a feather,’ I said, as I closed the car door behind me.
The bike, unchained, was old and black with one of those thick sprung saddles. I didn't want to let Hubert see me ride it, just in care I'd forgotten how. I hadn't ridden a bike since I was a child, and even then I seemed to spend as much time picking myself up and cleaning grazed knees as I did actually in motion. So I walked the bike out of the bike shed and on to the path.
The rain hit me full in the face and although I found my balance pretty quickly I couldn't see very well. I had to pedal with my head down and my eyes squinting. But I rode on past empty dark buildings I'd never seen before until eventually I came to the estate at the back of the grounds. It had taken me five minutes. Without the rain and being more used to the bike I could probably have done it in three.
Kennie's house was in darkness, the curtains wide open; his mother had obviously not returned. Margaret's house was in darkness except for a dull glow in a front bedroom. I stopped cycling just before the house and walked with the bike to the front gate. The bike squeaked even without a rider, but I hoped the swishing of the rain would mask the noise.
I swept my hair back and wiped the rain from my face and looked around at the few other dark houses
in the estate. No one was out on such a night but I could hear a dog become aware of my presence. I propped the bike up by Margaret's front gate and then began to walk fast towards the hospital.
Once out of sight of the houses I began to break into a run. But that didn't last long. It seemed like hard work against the force of the rain and by now my jogging bottoms were so wet that I could feel them slipping downwards.
By the time I got back to the bike shed I must have weighed an extra half-stone in water. The walk back had taken ten minutes. Hubert had turned the car round so that the boot was under the roof of the bike shed. As I staggered back he got out of the car and signalled to me to come with him.
‘Where's the bike?’ he asked.
‘I'll tell you in a minute,’ I replied, shivering. ‘Can't I sit in the car for a while?’
‘In that state! Not in my old girl you can't.’
‘I'll catch pneumonia.’
‘Good!’
I continued to shiver but the Hubert opened the boot and put a blanket around me and handed me a fluffy pink towel.
‘Get yourself a bit drier,’ he said, ‘then you can have a cup of coffee.’
Amazed, I began drying my face and hair while Hubert poured coffee from a Thermos flask.
‘Hubert, I'm overwhelmed. Why didn't I think of this?’
He didn't answer for a while, then he said, ‘Is that it, then? Can we go?’
‘Soon, Hubert. All you've got to do now is stab me in the back.’
He looked down at me. ‘Strangling is more in my line,’ he said, pulling the blanket tight round my neck.
‘Just one little stab, Hubert,’ I pleaded, taking the knife from my pocket. When the surprise had registered on his face I pulled out the ketchup-filled condom and waited for that to register.
‘Is that what I think it is?’ he asked, horrified.
‘It's only sauce.’
‘Oh, God!’
‘There's nothing to it, Hubert. We just go over to the patch of grass where Jacky's body was found and you stab me in the condom and then I take it from there.’
‘Take what?’ he asked.
‘The knife. I want to go over what, I think, Margaret did that night. She had to do something with it. At first I thought she just returned it to her pocket but I'm not sure. Would she have risked being found with a knife?’
‘Suppose not,’ Hubert agreed reluctantly.
‘You'll do it, then?’
‘If this goes wrong, Kate, I shall seriously consider getting a new lodger – a dressmaker or a pensioner. Someone who won't give me any trouble.’
‘Hubert, you won't regret it, I promise.’
‘What about the bike?’
‘Oh, yes. Well that's a ploy to get Margaret rattled. In the morning she'll look out of her window and see that black bike standing there like some sinister conspirator to murder. It can't fail to remind her of what she's done.’
Hubert mumbled something under his breath but I didn't catch it and by that time I had begun to shiver again. Even so, I threw the blanket back into the boot of the car and, squaring my shoulders, said, ‘Forward, Hubert.’
He swore softly under his breath as he followed me.
We skirted Harper Ward, keeping well down as we passed. Round the back of the ward, the office light glowed but the curtains were completely closed. For a moment I felt a strong desire to be inside in the warm, but I resisted, telling myself that the rain was good for both skin and hair and the back of my neck and my thighs and … I was as miserable as hell! ‘Come on, Hubert.’ I urged in a whisper. ‘It's not far.’
In the patch of ground surrounded by trees and bushes it was far darker than I had thought.
‘Have you brought a torch?’ I asked Hubert.
‘No, I bloody well haven't. You're the girl scout. Just get on with it. What am I supposed to do now?’
I peered down at the mud. ‘It was about here,’ I said.
‘Where's the knife?’ he demanded.
Close up to his face I could see the rain dripping off his already soaking hat, and his eyes squinting against the downpour. ‘It's here, Hubert. Don't get carried away, will you?’
I handed him the knife and explained I'd put the condom down my back and when it was in place he could have a stab at it. As I eased it down beneath my thermal vest, I shivered uncontrollably – it felt as cold as ice.
‘Okay, Hubert, stand behind me and feel the lump and then put the knife in.’
I could feel Hubert holding the condom in the middle of my back, and then, nothing happened.
‘Now, Hubert!’ I urged. ‘Do it now!’
‘I can't,’ he groaned. ‘I can't, I might stab you.’
‘You don't have to use any force,’ I said. ‘Just pierce the rubber.’
Whoever had stabbed Jacky didn't have this much trouble, I thought, no layer of clothes, no rain – hardly any effort at all.
He held me gingerly by one shoulder and poked at the condom. The sauce came out in a slow trickle, sliding revoltingly down my back. I turned to Hubert who stood staring at the knife as if gradually lost its sauce to the rain. I took the knife from him and saw splashes dark against his hands. That night there would have been no rain to wash the blood away. What the hell did she do? Where did she wipe the knife? What did she have with her? And then I remembered. It was what Jacky had with her that mattered. Jacky had the packet of incontinence pads with her. Margaret had been lucky. And then I knew what she had done. All I had to do was prove it.
‘You satisfied?’ demanded Hubert. ‘I'm too old for this sort of caper.’
‘You go on ahead, Hubert. I just want to look round the back of the ward.’
Hubert strode off and I was following on behind when I heard a dog bark and a man's voice shouting, ‘'Ere you two, what the 'ell?’ and then, ‘Stop or I'll …’
Before he'd finished I screamed, ‘Run, Hubert, run!’ And he did. I knew I'd made a mistake when the Alsatian tore after him and soundlessly held on to his sleeve until poor Hubert was dragged to the ground.
‘Don't move!’ I yelled. ‘Stay perfectly still.’
The dog's owner had by this time appeared, fat and lumbering and wearing a peaked cap. He was still saying ‘'Ere you' as he approached.
‘Call that dog off,’ I shouted imperiously. ‘I'm one of the nurse managers and that' – I pointed to Hubert lying in the mud with the dog tugging excitedly at his sleeve – ‘is the general manager.’
‘Here, King – come!’ called the owner. The dog let go of the sleeve with some reluctance and Hubert struggled slowly to his feet, totally covered in mud.
I turned to the man. ‘Are you trespassing in hospital grounds?’ I demanded.
‘Me? No, lady, I'm the security guard.’
‘Are you indeed? Well, I'm not very impressed. We're here checking, on this foul night, that you are doing your job properly. It took you an inordinately long time to spot us, didn't it? More frequent checks might be in order in the future. And next time you see a suspicious person I should issue a warning before you let your dog loose.’
The dog looked at me, all wet and bedraggled, and hung his head as if in shame. The man looked as shamefaced as the dog.
‘Right you are, miss. Sorry about the mistake. I've had a terrible night; someone nicked the hospital bike.’
‘That's unfortunate but security is all; just see it doesn't happen again,’ I said, waving a finger at him.
As man and dog moved briskly away, I turned to Hubert who was by now standing by my side.
‘My arm, my arm,’ he moaned pathetically.
His sleeve was in tatters and in the dark I couldn't see if the dog had broken the skin.
‘We'll go to Melba Ward and get it looked at.’
‘Why did you tell me to run? You nearly got me killed.’
‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’
‘You're a bloody menace.’
I didn't argue. I was soaked, cold, miserable
and tired. And anyway, Hubert was right.
We stood outside Melba's glass doors and rang the bell.
Claudette was on duty and at first reeled back slightly at the shock of seeing us. She opened the door, looking us up and down with her mouth slightly open. ‘Good God,’ she said at last. ‘What on earth has happened to you two?’
‘This is Mr Humberstone, my landlord—’
‘Erstwhile landlord,’ interrupted Hubert.
‘He's not happy, Claudette; the guard dog chased him.’
‘Only because you told me to run …’
‘But whatever were you doing? Oh, never mind, just wait there. I'll be back in a tick,’ said Claudette and she was gone.
Hubert looked straight ahead, his hat sitting limply on his head, his mackintosh sleeve torn to the elbow and his face covered in mud. If I'd felt more attractive myself I could have laughed.
As good as her word Claudette came back in seconds with towels, and dressing-gowns. She had donned a plastic apron and gloves.
‘Is that blood?’ she asked anxiously when we had moved into the light of the corridor.
‘No,’ I said. ‘It's only tomato sauce.’
‘Of course,’ she said calmly. ‘What else would it be?’
A hot bath had never felt so good. I emerged from the bathroom feeling quite wonderful although I had to wear a hospital nightdress under the dressing-gown.
‘I've put your clothes in a plastic bag. You'll have to go home in what you're wearing,’ Claudette told me and I knew she was longing to laugh.
‘Perhaps we could hang on for a while, it might stop raining.’
‘Sure. No problem,’ she said. ‘I've made some tea. And I've checked Mr Humberstone's arm – the skin's not broken. He'll live.’
Hubert was still reviving in the bath so Claudette and I sat in the office and I explained a little about our activities of the night.
‘Was it worth the hassle?’ she asked.
‘It might be,’ I said. ‘If you can tell me about the incontinence pads and the rubbish.’
‘What do you want to know?’ she spoke calmly, almost as if this sort of thing happened to her every night. I had expected Claudette to be nervy, if not outright hysterical, but perhaps curiosity had got the better of her.
Deadly Errand Page 20
