Stick in the Mud: A riveting murder mystery

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Stick in the Mud: A riveting murder mystery Page 13

by Leo McNeir


  “You look happy,” said Ralph.

  “Do I normally look miserable?”

  Ralph grinned. “Like an ogre.”

  “Thank you for that generous assessment, kind sir. But seriously, Ralph, I feel great.”

  “You look great, darling, especially in those shorts. Has anyone ever told you, you have exceptionally fine –”

  Ralph’s compliment was interrupted by the trill of Marnie’s mobile. She picked it up and pressed the green button.

  “Hallo? Marnie Walker.”

  “Marnie, it’s Anne.”

  Even on the mobile Marnie could detect the tension in Anne’s voice. “Something wrong?”

  “Oh, Marnie. Something terrible has happened.”

  *

  Leaving Thyrsis near Uxbridge, Marnie and Ralph crossed London by tube and reached Horselydown in just over an hour. They went straight to the flat, noticing in passing that all activity in the building site had ceased, and found Anne still in a state of shock. Donovan was beside her on the sofa.

  “It was all so unreal,” Anne murmured. “We’d been talking to him about the work. It was an ordinary morning … apart from Dick’s new discovery … whatever that was. I went for a coffee with Donovan. When we came back, Dr Fennimore was …”

  Anne sat staring ahead.

  “Can you bear to talk about what happened?” Marnie asked gently.

  Donovan took up the story. He explained about Dick’s discovery, and how Dr Fennimore had insisted on confidentiality.

  “We were just making plans for the day when the students started coming up out of the dig. Zoë was annoyed that the builders insisted on carrying out more reinforcements to the shuttering. They said they had to protect the walls down to the lowest level.”

  “Where was Fennimore at that time?” Ralph asked.

  Donovan said, “He’d gone off with Dick for further talks in one of the huts.”

  “So those two didn’t know about the extra shuttering works?” Ralph said.

  “I suppose not.”

  “What happened then?” said Marnie.

  Anne continued the narrative. “We’d gone for coffee at a little place round the corner. As we were coming out we heard a loud siren coming from the site, so we rushed back. Builders were running to the dig ladder. A cloud of dust was coming up from below. We could see part of the shuttering and scaffolding had collapsed on the far side.”

  “That was the deepest part of the dig,” Donovan said, “the bottom level by the Roman ships.”

  “That’s where Dr Fennimore and Dick had gone,” Anne added. “It seems they’d finished their meeting and decided to go down to inspect the ship excavation.”

  “The builders had downed tools for lunch,” said Donovan, “so nobody was around to tell them the site was out of bounds till the extra reinforcements had been put in place.”

  Anne nodded. “They just climbed down and were moving around when the scaffolding gave way. Part of the shuttering collapsed and …”

  Anne put her head in her hands. Donovan put an arm round her shoulders.

  “It’s all right,” Marnie said quietly.

  “Dr Fennimore was … killed outright?” Ralph said.

  Donovan nodded.

  “What about Dick?”

  “He was on the opposite side from Dr Fennimore. When the walls came down, apparently he dived out of the way.”

  “Was he injured?”

  “Not a scratch on him,” Donovan said.

  “What happens now?” Marnie asked.

  “The site’s closed down for the day,” Donovan said. “Inspectors are going in tomorrow. They’ll produce a report and there’ll be an enquiry.”

  “How long will that take?” Marnie said.

  Anne looked up. “I spoke to the clerk of works. He said they’d have a crew in over the weekend making the dig site secure. Building work would probably resume on Monday.”

  “That’s quick,” said Marnie. “I would’ve expected them to take much longer.”

  Anne shook her head. “The builders said they had to make the site safe without delay. They can’t risk any more collapse. It could compromise that whole central area.”

  “And the excavations?” Ralph said.

  “Probably the same. Remember, they only have a limited time to complete the dig.”

  “So at least Zoë will be happy,” said Marnie.

  Anne shook her head. “She certainly didn’t look happy.”

  *

  Marnie was anxious to see the site for herself and talk to Philip Everett. Ralph went with her, leaving Anne with Donovan in the flat. It was only as they drew up to the site entrance gate that Marnie realised there was a problem with Ralph. She took the security pass from her bag and held it up. The guard waved her in, but looked pointedly at Ralph.

  “This is my colleague, Professor Lombard,” Marnie said in a confident tone, stressing the Professor.

  The guard consulted his list. “Professor …?”

  “Lombard,” Ralph said, equally confidently. “Ralph Lombard.”

  The guard frowned. “There’s no-one of that name on the list, miss. I’ve got a Professor de Groot.”

  “De Groot is here?” said Ralph. “He’s head of archaeology at London Barbican University. I’m from All Saints’ College, Oxford.”

  The guard looked dubious and checked his list again.

  “Look, I’ll vouch for Professor Lombard,” said Marnie. “He’s … oh, just a minute.” Looking beyond the guard, she waved an arm, once, twice, then made a beckoning gesture.

  Philip Everett arrived a moment later. His expression was grim as he kissed Marnie on the cheek and shook Ralph’s hand.

  Marnie explained the security problem, and Philip assured the guard that Ralph was not a security risk or sightseer. He would authorise his admittance. The guard asked Philip to print Ralph’s name on the sheet and sign his own name alongside.

  Philip left Marnie and Ralph to equip themselves with protective clothing and dashed off to see the site agent and other contractors for a hastily-convened meeting. Marnie pushed open the door to the staff hut and stopped in her tracks.

  Seated at the table was a stocky man in his forties wearing a dark suit. Beside him sat a younger man, Afro-Caribbean, in a black leather jacket. On the other side, two students were sitting, young women. One of them looked as if she had been crying. The stocky man eyed Marnie with a look bordering on suspicion. The Afro-Caribbean got to his feet and began gesturing to Marnie that she should withdraw.

  “It’s all right, Ray,” the stocky man said, not taking his eyes off Marnie. “It’s interesting that you should be here, Mrs Walker.”

  “Good morning, chief inspector,” Marnie said. Turning a little towards Ralph she added, “Ralph, this is DCI Bruere of the Metropolitan Police.” She turned back to Bruere. “This is Professor Ralph Lombard, my fiancé.”

  “And your business here?” Bruere asked.

  “I’m part of the architect’s team for the building project.”

  Bruere looked at Ralph. “And yours, sir?”

  “Moral support for Marnie, I suppose.”

  “You’re not one of the archaeologists?”

  “No.”

  Marnie said quickly. “Sorry to interrupt your discussion, Mr Bruere. We need our protective clothing from the lockers. If we can just take what we need, we’ll get out of your way.”

  “Okay, go ahead. But don’t leave the site until I’ve spoken to you. Got that?”

  Marnie and Ralph were out of the hut in less than a minute. As they hurried across to the dig site, Marnie was muttering under her breath.

  “What was that, darling?” said Ralph.

  “I said that was all I need … bloody Bruere.”

  “Not your favourite policeman?”

  “He’s interviewed me in the past. Don’t you remember, Ralph?”

  “Come to think of it, the name is familiar.”

  Marnie stopped abruptly. “Wai
t a minute … what’s he doing here? This is an industrial accident. I’d expect health and safety inspectors to be crawling all over the place, but he’s CID.”

  “You think the police are treating this as a suspicious death, Marnie?”

  “They must be. I mean, why else would he be here?”

  “Presumably, there has to be –”

  Marnie cut Ralph off with a gesture. “Come on.”

  She set off, leaving Ralph trailing along in her wake. Ralph understood her intention when he saw Dick Blackwood standing by the perimeter fence talking with some of the students. Dick caught sight of them and broke off from the group to meet them halfway.

  “Dick, I’m really sorry about Dr Fennimore. This is awful. Is it true, you weren’t hurt in the accident?”

  “Yeah. Thanks, Marnie. I was dead lucky.” He paused after the unfortunate choice of words. “We were taking a look at the ships when the scaffolding just started falling down around us. There was no warning. I’d moved a short distance away and managed to throw myself clear, but Miles had no chance.”

  “Anne said you’d made some sort of major discovery,” Marnie said.

  Dick nodded, his face sombre. “Miles was almost as excited as I was.”

  “Was he a medievalist too?” Ralph asked.

  “Not exactly. He was a landscape archaeologist, a brilliant one.”

  “Am I right in thinking your discovery was elsewhere?”

  “Yes.”

  Marnie wanted to bring the conversation back to the immediate questions.

  “Dick,” she said, “why are there detectives here?”

  Dick shrugged and shook his head. It occurred to Marnie that like Anne he too was in a state of shock. And there but for the grace …

  “Is Zoë not around?” said Marnie.

  “Zoë?” Dick repeated, as if he had forgotten who she was.

  “I thought everyone was supposed to wait to be seen by DCI Bruere.”

  “I think …” Dick began. “I think Zoë went off to get some lunch.”

  “But surely the police required everyone to stay on site.”

  Another shrug from Dick. “You know Zoë …”

  Marnie looked at her watch, then scanned the site. Students were scattered about in clusters, talking together in subdued voices.

  “Has anyone done anything about food for the diggers?” she asked.

  Dick looked blank. “Not that I know.”

  Marnie dug out her mobile. “I’m going to ring Anne and get her to bring some sandwiches and stuff. They must be starving.”

  “Good idea,” said Dick, to whom the thought had obviously not occurred.

  “And I think you could use a brandy, Dick,” said Ralph.

  “No alcohol allowed within the compound.” Dick sounded as if he was quoting from a rulebook. “But you’re absolutely right.”

  “Perhaps that’s what Zoë went to get,” said Marnie, pressing buttons on the mobile

  “I couldn’t blame her if she did,” Dick said. “And in any case, I wouldn’t. Zoë saved my life.”

  *

  They descended on the sandwich cabinet in the local mini-market and cleared it out like the plague of locusts attacking the Pharaoh’s wheat fields. While Marnie and Ralph filled one trolley with sandwiches, Anne and Donovan piled packets of crisps, boxes of fruit pies and soft drinks into another. Ralph added a half bottle of brandy for medicinal purposes. When Marnie explained the circumstances to the somewhat bewildered Indian lady in charge of the shop, she readily agreed to let them take both trolleys away, with the promise that they would return them very soon.

  They trundled along to the building site in convoy, like working narrowboats, a motor trailing its butty. With some difficulty they humped the trolleys down the steps to the subway and up again on the other side of the road. Once admitted into the compound, Marnie signalled to the students to help themselves from the trolleys. They needed no second telling and gratefully crowded round the food supply, declaring that they were indeed famished.

  Ralph had slipped the brandy into his back pocket and, when he was sure no-one was watching, offered it to Dick, who gratefully swigged a mouthful and handed it back to Ralph.

  “You hold on to it,” Ralph said. “You may need it again.”

  To Ralph’s surprise, Dick reached forward and hugged Ralph tightly to him, holding on for several seconds. Ralph could feel him trembling, as if on the brink of tears. When he eventually released Ralph, Dick stood back with eyes closed and took a series of deep breaths.

  “Are you okay?” Ralph asked gently.

  “Yes,” Dick breathed the word. “Better now, thanks, Ralph.”

  Marnie had come over to them, seeing Dick holding on to Ralph and she laid a hand on his arm.

  “You ought to eat, Dick,” she said. “You need something inside you.”

  Dick took the sandwich she held out to him. Marnie had already unsealed the pack, and Dick only had to reach in and lift it out. It was ham with salad. He took a bite without looking at it. Marnie suspected he did not taste it, either. She felt moved that he was simply doing what he was told, like a child obeying his mother. The thought came to her that with his enthusiasm and curiosity he was in some ways like a boy with a hobby, a passion that dominated his life. He was probably only a few years older than Anne, and at that moment while he stood eating his sandwich, he seemed young and vulnerable. Marnie could well understand why he had needed to hug Ralph.

  “Is that better?” she asked quietly.

  “Much better,” Dick said with a grim smile. He took another mouthful.

  “Dick,” Marnie began, “I don’t want to pester you with questions …”

  He swallowed. “I’m not supposed to talk about my project, Marnie. All I can say at the moment is that it’s about … treasure.”

  Marnie frowned. “Treasure? You mean like buried treasure?”

  “In a way, yes. That kind of thing … sort of. But I promised Dr Fennimore –”

  “No, that’s fine,” Marnie interrupted. “I wasn’t going to ask about that. It was something else you said … about Zoë saving your life?”

  Dick nodded. “Yeah.”

  “How did she do that?”

  “I told you.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  Dick looked confused. “It was when I went down with Miles to examine the ships. We were going round to the far side of them when my mobile rang. The signal was poor … too close to the scaffolding. I had to move to avoid the interference. I was walking away from Miles when the scaffolding crashed down. If it hadn’t been for that call …”

  “I see.”

  “It’s weird,” Dick said. “I never did find out what she wanted.”

  “What’s going on?” A loud voice from behind them made Marnie and Dick start. “Well?”

  They turned to find DCI Bruere and the younger black man staring at them.

  “Lunch,” Dick said simply.

  Bruere glared at the trolleys. “Where’s this come from?”

  “The corner shop down the road,” Marnie said. She could feel her anger rising. “They’re all bought and paid for, and the shop owner lent us the trolleys.”

  “Did you go out for them?” Bruere said to Marnie.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “I distinctly told you not to leave the site without my permission.” If possible, Bruere’s voice was even louder. “Which part of that didn’t you understand, Mrs Walker?”

  “No, you said not to leave without talking to you. There’s a difference. I’m here and I am talking to you.”

  “But you left the site.”

  “And you overlooked the fact that the students hadn’t had anything since breakfast. That was negligence.”

  Bruere looked as if he was going to explode. By now all the students had formed a group behind Marnie and Dick, while Anne and Ralph came to stand beside them.

  “Chief inspector …” Ralph’s tone was calm and relaxed. “Surely y
ou’d acknowledge that you owe these young people a duty of care. They are after all not suspects or even witnesses.”

  Bruere focused his attention on Ralph, who stood quietly beside Marnie, commanding the moral high ground. With a movement so brusque it made Marnie flinch, Bruere turned and strode off. After three paces and without breaking stride he called out over his shoulder.

  “Mrs Walker! In the office … now!”

  In the silence that followed, Ralph’s voice could be heard clearly by everyone present.

  “We’re taking the trolleys back to the shop, as we promised.”

  Bruere growled some sort of reply, but it could not be understood. Judging by the expression on the face of the other detective, that was possibly just as well.

  Ralph kissed Marnie on the cheek and added, again in a clear voice, “Don’t be too hard on him, darling.”

  This drew laughter from the students, which did not go unnoticed by the police officers, who had now reached the staff hut. Anne invited the students to remove the last remaining packs from the trolleys, which they did with alacrity. She gave Marnie an encouraging smile as she set off towards the staff hut for her interview with Bruere.

  It was only when Anne turned to push her trolley that she realised Donovan was nowhere to be seen.

  *

  Marnie could not really understand why Chief Inspector Bruere was in such a bad mood where she was concerned. She had, after all, committed no crime, withheld no evidence, not been obstructive. When he invited her to sit down he merely grunted and pointed at a chair. Marnie remained standing. Bruere took his seat and looked up, surprised to see Marnie still on her feet.

  “Sit down, Mrs Walker.”

  Marnie did not move. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “What?”

  Without a word, Marnie walked round the table and extended a hand to the other detective.

  “Hallo, we haven’t been introduced, but I’m Marnie Walker. Nice to meet you.”

  A large black hand enveloped Marnie’s slim pale fingers. “And you, Mrs Walker. DS Robertson.”

 

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