Whisper the Dead

by Stella Cameron

  ‘No,’ Tony said. ‘My dad said the same thing.’

  He returned to his seat. ‘Did you know that?’ he asked when he’d set the glass Irish coffee mugs on the table. ‘Even Dad has backed off from asking Lily much and you know those two share things they wouldn’t tell us.’

  Alex cocked her head. She looked into the distance as if following a new train of thought.

  ‘What is it?’ Tony asked. He hadn’t passed on Bill Lamb’s warning to stay away from Bob Hill, and anyone or anything else to do with the case. It needed to be done.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Freakin’ rubbish, Ms Duggins. That busy brain of yours just jaunted off somewhere new, didn’t it?’

  She colored and stirred her coffee furiously with its cinnamon stick. ‘Bonkers,’ she muttered. ‘It’s all completely bonkers. I don’t know what I should think about first, or if I should think about any of it at all.’

  ‘I’ll let you decide on that.’ Not that he could decide anything for her. He did know that suggesting Bob Hill could represent danger wouldn’t ease her mind.

  ‘The coffee’s good. Thanks for the idea. I’m sorry, Tony – for being irritable. This thing I’m dealing with shouldn’t be your problem.’

  ‘Really? I thought we shared our issues, not just the good times.’

  Propping an elbow on the table, Alex held her mug in mid-air. ‘Of course, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty when I’m a drag. I’ve got to step back and let it go – for your sake and for mine.’

  He grinned, couldn’t help it. ‘I love it when you grovel.’

  Alex laughed aloud. She tapped the back of his hand. ‘I might as well confess that I tried to call Bill. Couldn’t reach him. Same thing with Dan. Finish up your coffee. We’re leaving and going back to your place – enough is enough.’

  How good that sounded. ‘Promise you’ll still say that when I tell you the truth, the whole—’

  ‘Tony! About what? What haven’t you done?’

  ‘When I spoke to Bill after I found you, he asked me to bring you back here and … he said he needed to know where you were for when he could get back to see you.’

  She shook her head slowly. ‘You didn’t say that before. When did you talk to him?’

  He said, ‘When I got back to the clinic.’ And added quickly, ‘He called me.’

  ‘That was hours ago.’

  ‘He said it could take hours.’ Tony dropped his voice but it didn’t sound any better. ‘He wasn’t sure when he could get away but they want to be sure you don’t leave.’

  ‘I haven’t. No, I’m not having that. Lamb doesn’t leave secondhand messages for me and expect me to follow instructions. I’m out of here. Come with me, or stay and apologize to Bill for letting me get away. He’s probably forgotten all about us and gone home by now.’

  Easing the dogs to the floor, she got up to leave.

  ‘All right. I didn’t want to say this, but Bill Lamb said that if you aren’t here when he arrives, a warrant will be put out for your arrest.’ Darn, why did he avoid what he found difficult by making jokes?

  She laughed at that. ‘I’m scared to death. Come on, you fibber.’ Without warning, she sat again – thudded down and scrubbed at her face.

  ‘Alex?’ He moved beside her. ‘Are you ill?’

  ‘No. Not the way you mean. Weirded out and confused, but not ill. I wasn’t going to say anything about it but there’s stuff we probably ought to know and I don’t see how we can.’

  ‘Come on, sweetheart. Don’t keep me in suspense.’

  ‘Is it definite that the architect – Lance Pullinger – didn’t die because of an accident? It could have been, couldn’t it?’

  ‘It could.’ He gripped her shoulder and shook gently. ‘But they know those things pretty quickly. The police wouldn’t be involved the way they are with an accident – not once they ruled out foul play.’

  ‘That’s what I think. I told you about Esme Hill coming here. That was strange, Tony. She made a good show of charming me, but I didn’t like any of it. She was telling me to stay away from her husband, I think, in a way. And Grant, her son, actually made an excuse to talk to me on our own and came right out with a warning. He flat out told me not to go near his father. What can that mean? I’ve thought about telling Dan and Bill but I’ve got to think about it.’

  ‘They said these things to you here.’

  ‘Right at the bar. With smiles on their faces like they were discussing the weather.’

  At the sound of the door to the inn and restaurant slamming, Alex squeezed her eyes shut. ‘Say that isn’t Bill Lamb. We were almost out of here.’

  Tony said, ‘We haven’t finished our coffees.’ But he didn’t feel either flippant or remotely comfortable.

  Footsteps and a shadow passed the glass door to the snug. Tony and Alex looked questioningly at each other.

  They didn’t even have to strain to hear Bill Lamb say, ‘Hugh. Good to see you. Alex didn’t leave, did she?’

  ‘Cheeky bastard,’ she mouthed and Tony had to smile.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Hugh responded in a slightly raised voice. ‘Let me check out back.’

  ‘Put Hugh out of his misery,’ Tony murmured and opened the snug door. He went into the saloon bar where Bill Lamb waited, a knowing smile on his lips.

  ‘Be grateful I don’t have a short temper,’ the detective said. ‘You people do stick together, don’t you? I suppose Hugh was giving you a chance to decide if you’d talk to me. Not a good idea if you want things on an even footing.’

  ‘Alex and I are in the snug,’ Tony said, ignoring Bill’s comments. ‘We’re both pretty much all in but we knew you had a couple of questions for us.’

  ‘For Alex,’ Bill said, his face expressionless as usual.

  ‘Is this an official interview?’ Tony asked, standing his ground.

  ‘Not at this point. Just a friendly exchange.’

  ‘Good.’ Tony went ahead of him into the snug and slid into the banquette beside Alex who had already resettled herself between the two dogs who now sat at alert, ears perked.

  Bill threw off his trench coat, tossed his hat on the next table and settled in the barrel chair opposite. He took a notebook from his inside jacket pocket. He sat back and closed his eyes for an instant, ran a hand through his sandy crew cut.

  ‘How about a beer?’ Tony said. The man was tired and it showed. ‘Or coffee?’

  ‘Are you hungry?’ Alex added.

  When Tony looked at her he saw concern and a little pity. ‘Yes, Lily leaves sandwiches in the kitchens.’

  Bill looked from one of them to the other. He gave a short laugh and Tony wondered what it meant.

  ‘What the hell. Half a pint of Doom Bar – I like to stick with a favorite. And if there’s a sandwich going spare, I’ll take it. Thanks.’

  It was Alex who hopped up, taking Bogie in her arms, and left the snug.

  Tony was certain Bill would have preferred to be left alone with Alex. ‘Long day?’ he said, and draped an arm around Katie, whose body shivered with tension just under the skin.

  ‘They all are,’ Bill said. ‘But this is the job I chose. I must like it.’ His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  ‘I didn’t quite get to warning Alex about Bob Hill,’ Tony said. ‘Is there something else I could help with while she’s busy?’

  Bill rubbed at his brow. ‘Let’s wait for her. If you need to leave, I’ll make sure she gets home safely.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Tony said, but he wouldn’t be leaving Alex alone. ‘I’ll stay as long as Alex wants me.’ He’d seen nothing to suggest Bill had any hold over Alex’s actions.

  ‘Radhika likes working at your clinic,’ Bill said, surprising Tony. ‘I’m glad she feels safe and settled here.’

  His own smile was automatic and genuine. ‘She’s loved around here, Bill. Who wouldn’t be glad she’s part of the community?’

  That got him a speculative stare. ‘Doesn’t always foll
ow that nice people are accepted, not if …’ He looked at his hands.

  Tony considered but only for an instant. ‘Not if they’re of a different race? I suppose that’s true, but not of the people who matter. She’s one of us now. She’s a lovely, caring woman. We’re lucky to have her here. I’m certainly lucky to have her.’

  Bill raised his eyes slowly. ‘You won’t get any arguments from me.’

  Why not take the plunge? ‘You’re fond of each other, aren’t you?’

  Crossing his arms, Bill nodded. ‘Yes. Very. I’ve never met anyone like her but I don’t fool myself there aren’t cultural hurdles. Not between us so much, but … well … no, there aren’t any between us but she’s gentle, fragile. In the past she’s been hurt, but you know that. Anyway, that’s my problem.’

  ‘And something tells me you’re happy to take on the problem. Am I right.’

  ‘Yes, you are. I hope I can find a way to work things out for us.’

  Tony took a swallow of his cold Irish coffee and decided it tasted just as good cold or hot. ‘You’ve got our support,’ he said.

  Alex walked backward through the door, a tray in her hands, and Tony was grateful to see her. ‘I thought we might all like something to eat,’ she said, sliding the tray on the table.

  Bill took his Doom Bar while Alex passed out plates and put a heaping platter of sandwiches on the table. She placed a brandy snifter in front of Tony and another on her own side of the table. ‘If you want brandy, Bill, just speak up.’

  ‘This is just the thing,’ he said, downing half of his beer. ‘Tell me what you know about Darla Crowley who also used the name Pullinger sometimes.’

  Alex had picked up a cheese and pickle sandwich. She set it on her plate. ‘Who is that?’

  ‘You don’t know?’ Bill gave her his pale blue unblinking stare. ‘Are you absolutely sure?’

  She looked blank. ‘I’ve never heard the name. Who is she?’

  ‘What about Lance Pullinger?’

  Alex shook her head, no. ‘Yes, yes. Forgive me. Bob Hill talked about him being the man who died in the fire. So did Esme—’ She clamped her lips together and picked up her snifter to swirl the brandy inside.

  ‘Yes. Lance Pullinger. Did you ever meet him?’

  She was pale and growing paler. ‘No.’ It was barely more than a whisper. ‘This is horrible even to think about.’

  ‘Who is this Darla?’ Tony asked, unable to help himself.

  ‘You’ll find out in good time. We rather thought Alex already knew. Being so close to Bob Hill.’

  ‘I’m not close,’ she said quickly. ‘I met him because of the fire at the construction site. That’s it. I never saw him before in my life.’

  Bill opened his notebook and scribbled a few lines. He took another swallow of beer and picked up the first sandwich he came to. ‘Why was Mrs Esme Hill here earlier this evening?’

  Tony saw Alex start. She leaned forward, her nostrils flared. ‘Perhaps I should just tell you she wasn’t here and I don’t know who she is. Then you’d have to explain yourself.’

  ‘I’ll do that anyway. But you can’t go back and I did hear you mention Esme just now. Mrs Esme Hill – and I think you’ll agree she’d be hard to miss – was seen coming into the Black Dog.’ He flipped back a couple of pages in the notebook. ‘With a young man. Who was he, do you know?’

  The mutinous set of Alex’s features didn’t bode well.

  ‘Mrs Hill came to thank me for helping her husband on the night of the trailer fire. The man is Grant Hill, Mr and Mrs Hill’s son.’

  Bill made a few more marks in the notebook. ‘What did you talk about?’

  ‘Very little.’

  ‘Right.’ Bill’s tone suggested the answer was what he’d expected. ‘Alex, you’re going to have to drop the act eventually. The sooner you do, the easier it’ll be all around.’

  ‘What act?’

  ‘Have it your way.’

  Tony’s muscles tightened. He didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking but knew he’d best keep his mouth shut for now.

  ‘How do you know Mrs Hill was here?’ Alex asked. ‘Do you already have someone watching me.’

  ‘We do.’ Bill ate another sandwich in three bites.

  ‘Why?’ Alex’s voice rose. ‘I’ve done absolutely nothing to deserve that.’

  Bill took a long swallow of his beer, looking at her across the rim of the glass, and set it down. ‘Perhaps we’re watching you because we think you could be in danger. Have you thought of that? Do you think we do whatever we do to be annoying, and because the force has such huge extra funds it can afford to play silly buggers?’

  He got up and Tony glanced at Alex who tipped up her face to watch the detective. Her eyes had widened and her lips parted.

  ‘The answer to that is, no. I’ll leave you with one thought: if there’s anything you’re holding back please come to us immediately and if you know who Lily Mary Edwina is – or was – and I think you do, will you tell me why someone would want to remove a plaque with that name on it from a bench in the graveyard?’

  TWELVE

  Smoke from cottage chimneys rose straight into the still, pink-tinged, early-morning sky. Snow sliding from the bare branches of an oak tree swished to softly pepper the drifts below.

  The tic-tic-tic of a robin drew Alex’s eyes to a little bird, perched alone on a rickety bird-feeder hanging from a low branch.

  ‘Wait,’ she said quietly, closing the lychgate into St. Aldwyn’s graveyard. She pulled on Tony’s hand and he stopped at once, looked down into her face with the questioning, worried expression he wore too often lately. ‘I’m OK. Honestly. I want to think a while before I charge into this – not that I think it means much. Bored kids getting into mischief, that’s all it is. I’ll replace the plaque and forget all about it. And I’ll make sure this one is sturdier.’

  ‘I didn’t know you’d had a bench put by the church. It was a nice idea.’

  ‘It’s been there for months.’ For once she wished Tony hadn’t been there the night before when Bill made his announcement. He didn’t need to be constantly reminded of her lost baby. ‘I thought I did mention the bench last year. That was last year when I was thinking about putting it here but we don’t need to look at it now. We’ve both got busy days ahead, and—’

  ‘And it’s going to make you sad to be reminded about your baby?’

  Cold struck through her feet. Her hands tingled as if they had been flash frozen and just begun to thaw. She stood very still, even when she felt Tony’s hands close firmly on her upper arms.

  ‘Alex?’

  ‘You’re probably right,’ she told him, keeping her gaze on the front of his coat. ‘It’s past time I was over it, anyway. See, those books you’ve been reading on cognitive behavior are paying off.’

  ‘Hey, lady, what’s going on with you? I haven’t read … I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  ‘I’m only joking.’ She glanced at his face. ‘I was going to say something about making me face fears head-on but it’s not funny. Anyway, it’s time to stop pretending. I’m not in such great shape. I wish we could have stayed at your place all day. In bed.’ The look she gave him was supposed to be defiant, teasing as well.

  Tony didn’t laugh. ‘I’m not joking,’ he said. ‘I would like us to be together and away from whatever is going on here now. You’re frantic about your mum. Having the police breathing down our necks again is twice as confusing as it is scary, although the deaths are tragic – and on top of that someone chooses now to pinch the plaque from your little one’s bench. Not funny – any of it.’

  Her smile came easily now. ‘Thanks for that. What I need is a plan. What’s the order of these things? Which should I try to deal with first?’

  ‘Sounds logical. And I’ve got another question – is there something that ties all of these things together? Sounds bizarre, but they do all seem to be coming at once.’

  ‘The deaths can’t fit with m
y family issues, Tony.’

  He shook his head, no. ‘You’re right. But darn it, why does everything have to hit at the same time.’

  A clear tenor came from the path beside the church, or Alex thought that was the location. Singing confidently, it got closer and Tony made owl eyes at Alex.

  ‘So pretty,’ she whispered. ‘What’s he singing?’

  Tony shrugged and they both listened. ‘“Morning has Broken”,’ they whispered in unison. ‘There’s a Cat Stevens version,’ Tony added. ‘Or is it Aaron Neville?’

  Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning

  Born of the one light, Eden saw play

  Praise with elation, praise every morning …

  When Juste Vidal caught sight of Tony and Alex, his warm voice trailed away. He waved, his reddish hair bright against the snow, and he waited for them to join him.

  ‘Is he working at the Dog this morning?’ Tony asked.

  ‘Not as far as I know.’

  She had no choice but to advance to the bench where Juste, in a thick black windcheater, black roll-neck jumper and black cords, stood smiling a welcome.

  ‘Morning to you,’ he said, inclining his head. ‘How beautiful it is like this. Made clean with the snow.’

  ‘Do you walk here a lot?’ Alex asked.

  ‘Quite a lot,’ Juste said. ‘Sometimes I help Reverend Ivor early in the morning – if I have a later class. Then I catch a bus.’

  ‘You have a good voice,’ Tony said.

  ‘No,’ the man said promptly, ‘but I love to sing. I must be honest. I came this way today because I know Detective Sergeant Lamb was going to tell you about the missing plaque for little Lily Mary Edwina and you might come to look at the first opportunity. I hoped I could offer to deal with it so you need not be distressed.’

  ‘You’re kind,’ Alex told him. ‘I wonder how long it’s been gone. Just a day or so, I expect.’

  ‘Two weeks,’ Juste said promptly. ‘Or I found it was missing two weeks ago. Sometimes I sit here to think, although I confess this is the first time I’ve returned since that morning.’ He sat at one end of the pretty cedar bench with its fan of curved spokes along the back. Where the plaque had been, there was evidence of a tool having been used to pry it loose.