Dead Again

by Jennie Melville

  ‘What about forensic evidence?’

  ‘The Siddons girl was killed where she was found, it seems, but Felicity Harrie was not. No traces of the deed being done there. Make what you can of that.’

  ‘The killer must know the area pretty well and also own a car or van in which to transport the body.’

  ‘That’s about it.’

  Rewley pushed the door open and slid in. He was tall and slender and sliding through a half opened door was quick and easy for him.

  ‘How about sizing up Charlie Rattle for the killings? He seems to be out and operating.’

  ‘Not his style,’ protested Dolly. She knew the Rattle family and their ways. She had dealt with Father and Mother Rattle before, their way was to grab any knife or screwdriver or chisel that came to hand, then dig it into any flesh that they happened to be near and angry with at the time.

  ‘Style? He hasn’t got style. It’s a mood thing with him.’

  There was some truth in this but there had never been any sex in a Rattle crime. Still, it had to start somewhere. Dolly admitted this to Rewley with a nod. ‘But I still don’t fancy him for it. These murders are too complicated and clever. Which he isn’t.’

  ‘Be quiet, you two, and stop batting balls across the net, this isn’t a tennis match.’

  ‘Pity we can’t get Joan Dingham for it: it’s got something to do with her, somehow, I swear,’ said Dolly.

  ‘Yes, I think that too,’ agreed Charmian, ‘and the cuts on the girls certainly suggest it, but it doesn’t get us any further forward. I keep hoping that forensics will come up with something that will give us a shove but they don’t.’

  ‘So it’s up to the poor bloody infantry to go plodding round the streets asking for people who might have seen or heard something.’ Rewley was gloomy.

  ‘You’d think,’ said Dolly, ‘that girls of that age would have gossiped a bit about where they were going and who they were meeting.’ Although, she admitted silently to herself, in her day she had been a bit close mouthed about certain meetings. It all depended on how important it was.

  ‘The one site, if I dare call it that, which they have in common was one of a series of parties, so common at university, but it was one of those crowded affairs where Jack the Ripper could have dropped in and no one would have noticed or remembered.’

  ‘Probably he did,’ said Rewley, ‘or his contemporary soulmate. And we do know that the young couple who found Siddons-Jones dead had arranged to meet her there so it’s possible she arranged to meet her killer there too.’

  ‘Or he overheard the arrangement.’

  ‘You keep saying he,’ said Dolly, ‘it could be she. Could be a woman.’

  ‘Oh, you’re so hot to prove that anything men can do women can do better, Dolly,’ was Rewley’s riposte.

  ‘It isn’t that at all.’ She was indignant. ‘But don’t close your eyes to possibilities. Remember Mrs West and Myra Hindley.’

  ‘Wasn’t Siddons raped?’

  Charmian said crisply that there had been damage in the vaginal area but no semen had been found.

  ‘Pity,’ Rewley again. ‘DNA testing would be so useful.’

  ‘When we get to the stage of asking for that specimen from a man then we probably know who the killer is already.’

  ‘Proof,’ said Rewley succinctly.

  ‘We need identification first.’

  Dolly was gloomy. ‘Could be a race against time: killers of this sort are always keen to try again.’

  ‘I am not making out a case defending Master Charlie, whom I think is a strange little fellow, but all this is guesswork,’ said Charmian. ‘Nor am I against guesswork because often it comes up with the right answer, I’ve guessed myself, that’s how detection works, but it’s not enough on its own and all we have against Charlie at the moment is that we don’t like him. Which is not going to get him to court.’

  ‘You’re getting sharper and sharper,’ said Rewley, one of the few people who could speak to Charmian in that way. ‘You need your blood sugar raising … Let’s all go out for a pub lunch in the Duck and Whiskers in Pond Street … my treat, it’s my birthday.’

  ‘You had a birthday last month; protested Dolly, but she was getting up, ready to go.

  ‘I have one every month. Always on a Wednesday.’

  Charmian got to her feet. ‘I’ll accept a drink but perhaps not food.’

  ‘Dolly and I will charm you into eating one of the Duck’s beef and mustard sandwiches.’

  ‘You’re very jolly today,’ Charmian said suspiciously.

  ‘Well, I used to wonder if the beef was really dead dog, but I received definite assurance from the landlord that it was dead cow. I shall have cheese and pickle myself. You can’t hide much with a pickled onion.’

  ‘You can lose friends, though.’

  ‘Oh, Dolly, I love you, always down to earth.’

  It was a wet and windy walk to the Duck, that in another day, time and age had been called the Duchess of Devonshire with a portrait of Georgiana in a big hat with a big smile.

  The Duck was crowded, as it usually was at lunch-time, being near to the university and one of the big hospitals while not far from the police headquarters.

  Charmian had a quick look round to see who she knew there, but slid into a corner seat without seeing a familiar face. Rewley returned with sandwiches and drinks. ‘The wine isn’t bad here, I got the red. Gives support and nourishment.’ He turned to hand Dolly her nourishment, then stopped dead. In a low tone, he said, ‘Look who’s over there.’ He pointed to the corner couple of seats, half hidden by curtains.

  Charmian looked. ‘Joan Dingham, by all that’s holy.’

  ‘Or unholy,’ said Dolly. ‘Who’s the man?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Rewley put down his drink. ‘I’m trying to get a better look.’

  ‘Not easy.’ Charmian was studying the pair. ‘They’ve chosen a good discreet spot.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have noticed her but for the hair. No dark corner is going to quieten that down.’

  The yellow cockade was not dimmed by dark spectacles and a black coat. The man with Joan Dingham was thin with his scalp shining through a closely clipped hair cut. He wore a dark suit.

  Charmian was studying him, there was something about him she thought she recognized, when her mobile rang in her pocket. She turned to the wall as she spoke into it.

  ‘Something I thought you might like to hear.’ A pause while Humphrey took in a deep breath, he too may have been eating a sandwich, it sounded like it.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I took the dog for a walk.’

  ‘That was good of you.’

  ‘On the way, I met my old friend Dick Duckett. We used –’

  ‘I know,’ said Charmian, ‘at your prep school he was known as Dickie Duckie.’

  They must have had the record for the worst nicknames of any school in England.

  ‘Yes,’ Humphrey sounded mildly surprised. ‘Did I tell you?’

  ‘I’m psychic.’

  ‘He was very pretty as a boy,’ said Humphrey. ‘Big success among certain circles. He’s gone off a lot.’

  ‘Spare me.’

  ‘Did well in the war … well, yes. He suggested I let the dog lead the way and he might show me where he came from …’ Another pause, while she imagined he was chewing his mouthful, she wanted to get a look at Dingham and escort.

  ‘He led me down Darling Street and then along the main Slough road to a newish estate. Bell Road. He stopped there and just looked at me.’ He waited hopefully for a word of praise for a his detective powers. ‘Means something.’

  ‘It might be very useful,’ she said politely, turning back into the room for another look at Joan Dingham.

  Dingham and the man had gone.

  ‘Sorry, Humphrey, thanks for everything. I’ve got to go.’

  Famous last words, she thought, an apology for a lot of my life, I’ll probably be saying them on my deathbed.

/>   ‘Where did they go?’ she demanded.

  Rewley was apologetic. ‘A crowd of youngsters came in and when we could see through the crowd, they’d gone.’

  ‘I think she saw us, you in particular, ma’am,’ said Dolly, ‘and decided to melt away.’

  ‘She shouldn’t be out on her own like that. She has only a limited freedom of movement. Where’s Emily Agent? She should be with her. Or near. Ring her and find out.’

  Dolly took her mobile from her pocket and went into the corner to summon Emily.

  ‘She doesn’t answer.’

  ‘Doesn’t want to,’ said Charmian. ‘ Keep trying.’

  Emily answered on the second ring. ‘Sorry, sorry, I was stuck in the middle of the traffic and daren’t take my hand off the wheel.’

  ‘Oh, so you’re on the road and out and about?’

  ‘Of course I’m out and about,’ said Emily crossly. ‘I’m looking for that bloody woman.’

  ‘Ah. What happened?’

  ‘She wanted to go shopping. I took her into Caley’s and she seemed to disappear into the crowd. Have you got her?’

  ‘No, she disappeared on us too.’

  ‘Who’s us?’ asked Emily. ‘No, don’t tell me, I can guess.’

  ‘She’s probably gone back to her sister’s flat or else back to the college,’ said Dolly, as she reported back to Charmian and Rewley. ‘She won’t want to be wandering round the city on her own.’

  ‘She’s not on her own,’ Rewley pointed out.

  ‘I’d like to know who the man is,’ said Charmian. ‘Joan must have wanted to see him very much.’

  ‘Or he wanted to see her,’ said Rewley, naturally seeing the man’s part too.

  Emily Agent caught up with Joan Dingham as she was driving down Chipper Street. She drew into the kerb and opened the door. Joan stepped in.

  ‘You shouldn’t have skipped off like that,’ said Emily. ‘I am supposed to stay with you. I would be in trouble if I lost you. And you might not be too happy wandering around on your own.’ If indeed, you were, she thought.

  ‘I looked around for you and couldn’t find you.’

  Oh, yes, thought Emily. ‘ The world has changed you know, the town too, since you were last in it.’

  ‘I watched television, I know how things are.’ They have changed, thought Joan, but the police are the same: watching, suspicious. ‘I hope you found the friend you wanted to see,’ said Emily, who

  had been apprised of what the other three had seen.

  Joan just smiled and was mute.

  ‘I hope you enjoyed it.’ Emily let her out of the car outside her

  sister’s flat.

  Enjoyed it, thought Joan as she ran up the stairs. Enjoyed.

  Pleasure? And a shiver ran through her body. Right through and

  out the other side.

  She called out to her sister, ‘Lou? You there? I’m back.’ There

  was no answer, Lou was out. She would have liked her sister’s

  company. She ran in to her bedroom where she threw herself on the bed. ‘I am frightened,’ she said aloud. ‘Prison was safe. Protected.’ She had created a monster whom she could not control.

  While Joan was feeling both pleasure and pain, Emily was receiving a sharp reprimand from Charmian.

  ‘Don’t let her go on the loose again. I don’t want her wandering round.’

  ‘No, I’ll see to it.’

  I will sit in the car all night, if need be, thought Emily, which she hoped she wouldn’t have to do. She was finding this surveillance of Joan both boring and exacting. She wanted to get her hair washed.

  She rang up the relief officer. ‘ Be ready to take over tonight.’

  Baby had had a busy day, by the end of which she was tired. How life had changed, she thought, from the days when clients only wanted their hair dressed in the morning or early afternoon, but now, if it suited them, you had to stay open late as well as opening early. Even going to their houses on occasion.

  Profits, of course, were good, but it was tiring.

  Today’s client desirous of an evening cut, wash and set, in her own home, was one of Baby’s favourites. They had known each other a long while, since Evie had been a performer in a club favoured by a much younger Baby. Evie had married well, while divorcing with even more skill, and was now relatively rich. There were few secrets between them but they never dug up each other’s past. Evie had a son, whom she adored, and who, as luck would have it, loved her too.

  ‘So I’m lucky,’ she said as Baby finished off her hair, ‘but you’ve kept your looks better.’

  Baby did not argue, she knew it was true. ‘Well, I’m in the business. It’s important how I look.’ She was busy gathering up the tools of her trade, the brushes, the hand hair dryer, the mousses and the lacquers.

  ‘My son says –’ Evie’s son was a CID with the Met ‘– they are all laughing and joking about Dingham’s month out and saying watch who comes after her.’

  ‘And what does that mean?’

  ‘Oh, you know what a masochistic lot they are.’

  ‘Macho …’ corrected Baby absently. One of the things that friendship with Charmian had taught her was the proper use of words.

  ‘Yes, that too. They don’t believe two women could have done what they did without a man.’

  ‘He thinks it’s funny, does he?’

  ‘Worth a laugh, he says. But you can’t take too much notice of Johnnie, he’s got such a sense of humour.’

  Evie never offered a tip on these occasions, since Baby was such an old friend, and therefore not to be treated in this way, but when she left, a note was always pressed into Baby’s hand with the murmur of ‘for the staff’. This banknote Baby kept as was no doubt intended. Now she got into the car for the drive home.

  The lights were on in the salon, which surprised her a little, but she had left the girls in charge and they were casual about such things.

  ‘Don’t pay the bills, that’s why, the monkeys,’ grumbled Baby to herself as she drove the car into her garage. She supposed Diana would be at home and she would have to give her supper and then talk to her. Although, to be fair, after her hospital session, Di was unlikely to want to talk.

  She tried the door to the salon. Not locked. Really she would have to talk to the staff. ‘The door must be locked when you leave,’ she would say.

  She walked in quickly and deposited the bag with her professional tools in it, before looking around. The salon was tidy enough, couldn’t fault the girls there.

  She could see a head, Diana’s head over the top of the big chair. As she looked, Di’s hand hung loosely over the arm.

  ‘Oh, Di,’ she called out, ‘you’ve done this once to me already. Lay off. A joke is a joke, but not twice.’

  She walked round to confront Diana, and as she did so, Diana slid sideways in the chair. Her scarf had been tightly drawn round her neck. And this time there was no joke. Diana was dead.

  Baby immediately called Charmian. ‘I thought you’d be the best person to call … you’d tell me what to do.’

  ‘You must call the uniformed branch, they will handle it.’

  ‘I knew you’d tell me what to do.’

  Charmian nodded; she suspected that Baby knew anyway but wanted help. Someone to stand beside her. ‘And you were elected,’ Charmian told herself sardonically.

  ‘The police surgeon will come to certify that Diana is dead.’

  ‘Oh, she’s dead all right.’

  ‘Then she’ll be taken away.’

  ‘To the police mortuary?’

  ‘They usually use the one in the University Hospital.’

  ‘Oh, good, that’s a nice one. Oh, poor Di, she valued the comforts of life so much. They’ll look after her, won’t they?’

  ‘You can be sure of that. You can arrange the funeral in due course if you want to.’

  ‘I wonder who will come.’ Baby was staring down at her friend’s dead body.

  ‘She has
friends and family, I expect.’

  ‘No family.’ She hesitated. ‘All right, I’ll do what I can: I’ll phone now. I’d like to tidy her up, but I suppose I mustn’t?’

  ‘Leave her the way she is.’ Charmian added carefully, After all, someone did kill her, she didn’t do this herself and there will be an investigation.’

  ‘I do understand. It’s been a shock though.’

  ‘Of course it has,’ said Charmian with sympathy.

  ‘You’re used to bodies.’

  Charmian opened her mouth in protest, then shut it again. Not worth a comment. How could she say: however often you see bodies you never get used to them.

  ‘Look, I’m coming over.’

  Baby seemed to have no fear for herself although death had come so close to her. You could call it courage or lack of imagination. Probably a mixture of both. She went to the telephone to make her call to the police, doing it calmly and efficiently. Then she felt dizzy. I’m fainting,’ she thought, ‘ I never faint.’ But blackness came down.

  When she came to, Charmian was sitting in one of the big chairs in the salon, offering her a glass of water. Baby brushed it away irritably.

  ‘Of course, like I said: you’re used to it.’

  ‘You never get used to it.’

  Baby accepted this, while not quite believing it. ‘ But thanks for coming. Sorry if I am behaving badly. I can’t quite imagine Di letting herself be killed, but she could be very arrogant. And what with one thing and another, I don’t know how much she minded dying … it was going to happen anyway.’

  ‘I expect she minded. I would. One likes a bit of free will.’

  Baby nodded.

  ‘Do you know why anyone should want to kill her?’

  Baby shook her head. ‘Not to say “know” but she didn’t like Joan and her sister and I don’t think they liked her. Or trusted her. Joan used to make odd remarks and jokes about Diana. But Joan couldn’t have killed her, she’s watched all the time.’

  Charmian agreed. She had already felt the presence of a third person walking the stage. Unluckily, she could put neither a face nor a name to this person.

  ‘Any ideas?’ she asked Baby. Baby had a knack of picking up information, although this did not mean that she would pass it on.

  If Baby knew anything now, then she was not saying. She shook her head. ‘All I can think about now is Di. I don’t know who did it, or why or how. The only thing I do know is that it must be connected with Joan somehow. Or the latest murders … Might be the same thing, they look like a present for Joan, with her badge on them.’