D&P23 - The Price of Butcher's Meat aka A Cure for all Diseases

by Reginald Hill

  Old Fester too. Mebbe after I went back in to pick up my fi le and Mildred, he got to thinking I could have been eavesdropping on his call to Pet. Mebbe it weren’t Pet’s idea to come clean, but Fester’s. Mebbe there’s something he’s more worried about me finding out than that the two of them were both wandering round loose during the period when Daph got topped. I’d put money it’s got summat to do with that song about the Indian maid, the one that got Fester so upset when Ted the bart whistled it in the pub. I were singing it in the shower when Pet jumped me. Got to give it to her, the way she explained doing that were pretty convincing! Don’t know why they give Oscars to them Hollywood stars for spouting some other bugger’s lines when half the women I know could act ’em off the screen without breaking sweat! No, it was Daph visiting me, then me singing “The Indian Maid” as did it.

  My guess is Daph must have got something on Fester, something that meant he couldn’t just tell her to sod off and bother some other bugger.

  She wants him, but she can’t buy him, ’cos, first off, he seems pretty comfortable already, and second, it’s clear the one intimate part of herself she kept out of everyone’s reach was her purse! Nay, it had to be summat really personal to keep him dangling at the end of Lady D’s string.

  Likely Pete’ll think I’m delusional if I tell him any of this. Any road, last thing I want is him getting a sniff of my knee trembler with Pet.

  Don’t think he’s got any secrets from Ellie. Okay, she wouldn’t go runT H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 3 3 5

  ning to Cap, but by God, the reproachful glowers I’d have to put up with! So I’ll sit on that till I know what it is I’m sitting on, as the actress said to the bishop.

  What Pete will like is knowing how the wine got on Daph’s dress. I can see his eyes lighting up as he thinks, What if it went further than wine throwing and ended up with Pet on top of her, throttling the poor old biddy? Doesn’t mean to kill her, but when she realizes how far things have gone, she rushes off to fetch Fester. So they decide the best thing is to stick her in the hog roast!

  Doesn’t sound all that likely to me. And it ’ud mean all that stuff about fixing then unfixing their stories was even more complicated than it looks! No, like all the best lies, I reckon most of Pet’s story is true, up until the storm starts anyway.

  So what was all that stuff about squealing pigs she overheard? Mebbe the animal rights nutters had got close enough to really put the frighteners on Daph. But you don’t soften people up, then top them, do you?

  So where now? Report back to Pete?

  Nay, he’ll have plenty of other things to worry about. And I don’t want to look like I’m hanging around, all pathetic, like them poor old sods who sit on park benches watching the lasses playing tennis.

  Not that I’d mind the company of a bit of young stuff for a change.

  That lass of Stompy Heywood’s now, she’s got an interesting way of looking at things. And a nice turn of phrase. If I’d caught her a bit younger, she might have trained up into a good cop. Said I needed a bit of female input, didn’t I, Mildred? And talking to her ’ud give me the chance to take a closer look at the Parker setup. Sounds like if anyone will benefit from poor old Daph’s departure, it’s Tom Parker. Now he’ll have free scope to put all his daft ideas into action!

  So Kyoto House it is. But how am I to get there? That’s the rub. No problem, Pet ’ull fix me up a lift. Her and Fester will be only too glad to see me off the premises.

  And if I time it right, I might get a bite of lunch too!

  9

  FROM:

  charley@whiffle.com

  TO:

  cassie@natterjack.com

  SUBJECT: whos a big twit then?!

  Hi!

  Ive done it again! Why should I be surprised? This started—more or less—with me dropping the old lemonade jug & seeing it hit the one stone remaining in Mill Meadow, like Id aimed it. That should have been a warning. Charley girl—you dont want to get mixed up in this—but mixed ups what I am!

  Sorry—waffling—dont

  worry—Ive not been arrested or anything like that—tho maybe I should be.

  Back to the beginning—after I shot my last off to you I felt a lot better—also felt in need of coffee—so went downstairs to find Mary preparing a tray with a cafetiere & some choc cake—which she was going to bring up—in case I wasnt well! Typical—time to think of

  others—even in the middle of a

  crisis—which it is for them. Got to remember that. For them its a crisis—for me its just grand opera. I can leave the theater anytime I like—head for home—get my life back—turn all this into an anthology of entertaining anecdotes for my mates.

  But Tom & Mary will be back here on the stage—having to deal with whatever comes up.

  The kids were playing somewhere in the

  garden—making a lot of

  noise. Id seen Minnie briefly as I came downstairs. Shes seriously pissed with me—returned a glower for my friendly smile—& vanished. At Marys suggestion I took my tray outside onto the terrace—& she joined me—& I got stuck into the coffee & cake—yummy! For a few minutes it was easy T H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 3 3 7

  to forget everything that had happened. The sun was shining—the sea was sparkling blue like a Riviera tourist poster—not a hint of yesterdays storm—& the visibility was so good you could probably see all the way across to Holland—if (I recalled Sids remark) you really wanted to.

  Then Tom came up the drive.

  Nice to see him—of course—but it did mean end of quiet interlude time.

  Even as he walked across the terrace toward us—he was launching into a blow by blow account of his morning so far.

  Spent most of his time—I gathered—making sure everyone affected by the development plans understood Lady Ds death didnt change anything.

  Comfort & light

  peddler—thats Tom. His message to them

  was—Lady D

  would have wanted them to go ahead with the Festival of Health as planned—put the tragedy behind them—full steam ahead to the Promised Land—with Sandytown on the map as its unrivaled capital—a fit memorial to dear dead Daphne!

  Sunny optimisms no substitute for the real stuff—& it was maybe irritation at having my sunlit moment so quickly interrupted that made me object—but surely everything depends on the will? What if Lady Ds heir—or heirs—dont care to continue supporting her investment?

  He said—theyd be mad not to—the future was gilt edged—& there were safeguards built into the consortium agreement—to protect a survivor if one partner died.

  Instantly—you can see how my minds working!—I thought that sharp-eyed Pascoe would see this as a motive—specially once he ferreted out how Tom

  & Daph used to fight about various details of the scheme.

  Didnt say anything of course—but could see Mary was worried about what was going to happen next. As Ive said before—suspect she feels—for all her reservations about Daph—that at least the old girl acted as a coun-terbalance to Toms flightier notions! But it soon became clear he wasnt so naively optimistic that he hadnt been thinking about the will also. He said hed been in touch with his solicitor whod made contact with Lady Ds London lawyers—whod told him that their Mr Beard was already on his way up to Yorkshire. No details of the will were forthcoming.

  3 3 8

  R E G I N A L D H I L L

  —but I do not doubt that Edward will inherit the bulk—they have been so close since Sir Harry died—said Tom.

  —& what about poor Clara?—said Mary—doesnt she deserve some compensation for what she has had to put up with?—

  Which prompted me to wonder where poor Clara was.

  I was told she had gone out shortly before I got back.

  —I think she just wanted to get some fresh air & walk around by herself—Mary told us—she said she thought she might pick up some of her things at the hall later—the poor child
looked as pale as a snowdrop—tho of course some people do have that natural subtle skin tone—

  There can be few people less capable of malice than Mary Parker—but I still felt my ruddy sun-smacked cheeks were being glanced at!

  Tom went on to say that hed met Sergeant Whitby—whod told him he was searching for Hen Hollis—to help with inquiries—but he wasnt at home & no one seemed to have seen him since he left the Hope & Anchor last night.

  I think we all thought—last time Jug Whitby went looking for a Hollis—he found him dead!

  Tom had also checked out Diana. Shed sent apologies for not calling at Kyoto House this morning to offer moral & medicinal support—but her friend Mrs Griffiths had started packing to go home & Di was trying to dissuade her—presumably not wanting the word to spread that S-town was the new murder capital of the UK— & then the police had turned up to take Sandy in for more questioning! This had naturally thrown Di into a decline—from which she was still recovering—poor thing!

  Mary rolled her eyes heavenward as she listened to this—whether in exasperation at the hypochondria—or gratitude at being spared the visit—I couldnt tell!

  I noticed Minnie had done her stealth bomber thing at this point & ma-terialized within eavesdropping distance—not wanting to miss hearing any fresh news her dad brought. Looking at her I felt a sharp pang of guilt—adults shouldnt off-load their crap on to kids—I can recall mum sermonizing the HB

  on that very subject!

  T H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 3 3 9

  Time to build bridges.

  I said—hey there Min—what time are we going then?—

  She glowered at me & said—going where?—

  —thought wed arranged to go for a swim in the pool—I said—I know I said this afternoon but I could manage now if you like—of course if youre too busy . . .

  I could see her shilly-shallying between the chance to put me down & the prospect of going to the hotel & maybe seeing Uncle Sidney. No competition really. With a weary curl of the lip she could have sold to Ice Queen Esther—she said—oh all right—Ill get my things—

  —let Charley finish her coffee—commanded Mary—& say thank you—

  Minnie glanced at me sullenly & muttered—thanks—almost inaudibly.

  —didnt quite catch that—said Mary sternly.

  Tom & Mary both had their attention fixed on their sulky daughter—so I took the chance to put my fingers in my mouth—pull my lips wide—& roll my eyes—in my famous Mad Mavis act that always used to get you corpsing when I did it behind the HBs back!

  I judged my girl right. Her eyes opened wide—then she dissolved into peals of

  laughter—ran up to me—gave me a

  hug—&

  said—thanks a

  million!—before taking off into the house.

  —there—said

  Mary—its marvelous what a few well judged words will do—isnt it dear?—

  —how true—said Tom—You know—I think Ill stroll along with the girls to the hotel—I want to have a word with Sidney & get his take on what effect this business might have on the investment program—

  I could tell Min wasnt too delighted to have her dad tagging along—she was probably hoping to squeeze every last detail of my interview with the police out of me—but she did pretty well by making sure whenever the path got too narrow for 3 abreast—Tom was always the odd one out.

  To start with I went for an edited version—but eventually—maybe cos shes so sharp at spotting omissions—& also cos I dont think anyones too young to learn what cunning bastards the police can be!—I found myself telling her just about everything.

  3 4 0

  R E G I N A L D H I L L

  Her shriek of indignation when I told her about Novello passing my emails to all & sundry had to be explained to Tom. He was less openly indignant—saying—if youd told me why you wanted to use the printer Charley I think I would have advised against it—

  When we came in sight of the hotel—& Minnie ran ahead as if she hoped Sidney might be waiting for her in reception—Tom went back to the subject saying—re those emails Charley—it might be well to think carefully in future about what you say to your sister—

  Behind all his sometimes daft optimism—Tom Parker is pretty sharp!

  —you mean theyd hack into my computer?—I said—horrified!

  He didnt answer direct but said—tell me about your security setup—

  So I did. When I told him that Id kept on getting blue screen which the accompanying message blamed on my firewall—so Id disabled it—he groaned.

  —Im going to get it sorted—I assured him.

  I didnt tell him that I was so nontech that in fact it had been loathsome Liam who disabled it when I mentioned my problem. Hed been going to download another firewall for me—but that went out of the window when I caught him poking my ex- pal up against that tree!

  —meanwhile youre an easy target—he said—for anyone!—

  Would the bastards really do that?—I wondered.

  Of course they would! I almost hope they do read this. BASTARDS! BASTARDS! BASTARDS! There—now I feel better!

  In reception we found Minnie chatting to the girl at the desk—who was telling her that she knew Sid wasnt in his room cos hed told her if anyone wanted him hed be in the Recreation Center.

  As we approached the pool area we could see a towel spread out on one of the luxurious sunbeds the hotel supplies for its well heeled clients but no sign of Sid.

  Then Min screamed—there he is! Not in delight—but horror!

  Lying on the water—facedown—quite still—arms & legs spread wide—was a pale naked body.

  Before we could stop her—Min had run forward & jumped straight in. I T H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 3 4 1

  think Tom might have followed—but as the shock waves from the splash reached the body—it turned slowly over—& Sid Parker—shaking the water from his head—said—well hello young

  Minnie!—havent you forgotten

  something?—like taking your clothes off?—

  Cradling Min in his arms—he waded to the side. The girl was choking with relief—or maybe shed just swallowed a lot of water. I realized now Sid wasnt in fact nude—but wearing a pair of trunks—creamy colored like his skin—& tight enough to leave little to the imagination.

  Not that the sight engaged mine anyway. Suddenly Sid was no longer an object of my lustful fantasy. Indeed—memory of its enough to make me cringe with embarrassment! What an idiot I am Cass!—seeing everything—

  understanding nothing—but always 100 percent certain Im right.

  What Im 150 percent certain Im right about now is that those long white limbs Id glimpsed in the cliff cave—spread-eagled beneath the barts bouncing buttocks—hadnt belonged to Clara Brereton—but to Sidney Parker!

  Now I recalled him walking away from me at Denham Park—his arm draped round Ted Denhams shoulders. Oh God! Me thinking the only reason for them to be closeted together was to hatch some cunning financial plot—then trying to decide which one of them I found the more gorgeous!

  Twit twit twit!

  & Esther, welcoming me into the house & flinging open doors. Bet she hoped she might let me catch them at it! Maybe it was her way of being kind. Cow!

  Well, I did catch them at it, didnt I? Only as usual my mind wouldnt let me compute what it didnt want my eyes to see.

  Didnt stay long at the pool. Tom was insistent on talking to Sid—& the pair of them went off to his room. Minnie not pleased—started a sulk—but Sid knows how to smooth her feathers—promised her he wouldnt be leaving Sandytown for at least another two or three days—& hed take her for a drive in the Maz. Gave me a sort of rueful glance—like hes caught on Ive caught on! At a guess Id say Sids dedicated High Church gay while Teds a lot more ecumenical. Not that that makes any difference to the way I feel about him 3 4 2

  R E G I N A L D H I L L

  now. Dont mind a boyfrien
d who thinks my lovely sisters a knockout—but I couldnt put up with one who started making eyes at George!

  Somehow neither me nor Min were in a mood for swimming—so after a few lengths we were both ready to head back home. More chance of getting updates here than at the hotel anyway—& if something interesting happens you dont want to be caught lying around in a wet swimming cozzie!

  . . .

  Gap there. Minnie came bursting in at speed of sound—meaning I didnt hear her knock! She gasped the police

  were

  here—asking for me again. I

  said—who?—Novello?—& she

  said—no—a big fat

  man—could be Shreks

  brother if you painted him vomit green.

  Has to be Mr Deal—however you spell it. Whats he want? Minnie didnt know—so I chucked her out—said Id be down in a moment. But with him sniffi ng around—not to mention the rest of his gang—Im not risking leaving this around for anyone to see. Send & delete! You do the same, OK? Thatll show the bastards!

  Love

  Charley xxx

  VOLUME THE FOURTH

  My feelings tell me too plainly that in my present state, the Sea air would probably be the death of me.

  1

  “Peter! Salvere iubeo! Willkommen! Bienvenu! In any language, I am glad to see you!”

  Franny Roote was sitting in his wheelchair on the threshold of his cottage, so for a moment as Pascoe swiveled his legs to get out of the car, they were face- to-face and eye to eye.

  From many a mouth, such a greeting would have seemed over-effusive, even synthetic. But the glow of pleasure on the young man’s face was beyond fabrication.

  Wasn’t it?

  Pascoe said, “Good to see you, Fran.”

  He meant it, but with reservations.

  He’d been genuinely concerned to lose touch with Roote, and his relief at discovering he was alive and relatively well was equally genuine. But to see that slight figure sitting there in a wheelchair sent a pang through his heart at the memory of how he had got there. And then there were the circumstances of their meeting.

  He’d listened to Wield’s account of his interview with the man and read his witness statement, and with some relief had found nothing to suggest that Roote was anything more than a peripheral witness in the case.