A Confusion of Murders: There's murder on his mind...

by Marina Johnson

  Ralph answers on the second ring; I thought it’d be him as it’s a bit early for everyone else. I lie and tell him that I have a migraine so won’t be in to work today. I know that Ralph would have been fine if I’d told him the real reason but I just can’t face talking about it.

  ‘Ok girl, you get your head down and we’ll see you tomorrow if you’re feeling better. And don’t worry about answering the phone, I’ll put Ian on it.’

  He’s being so nice I feel even worse. I’m such a liar. And Ian won’t be very happy to be tethered to his desk, either.

  The weather’s still miserable and wet so I put a jacket on before walking Sprocket round to Linda’s. At the end of the street I see the familiar ears of The Truth approaching. I increase my pace so I don’t get caught by him but as he gets nearer I’m shocked to see he has a black eye. He’s looking at the pavement as he walks and would have walked straight past me if I hadn’t called out to him.

  ‘Morning, Norman!’

  ‘Oh. Morningth.’ He lisps through a fat lip. His face is scratched and grazed and he looks a mess. He makes no attempt to stop so I put my hand out and touch his arm.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  He stops and looks at me and draws a shaky breath, ‘No, not reallyth. I got attacked.’

  ‘Attacked?’

  ‘Yeth. I was walking Lulu home on thunday night and she ran off, I remember hearing her barking and thath the lasth thing I remember. Woke up like thith.’

  ‘Didn’t you see anyone?’

  ‘Don’t think so. Can’t remember. Hospital thay I’m concussed.’

  ‘Where did it happen?’

  ‘Back alley behind Roden Sthreet.’

  That’s only a couple of streets from here, why would someone attack Norman? He’s well known in the area but I’ve never seen anyone show any malice to him.

  ‘Surely you’re not going to work?’

  ‘No,’ he says, swallowing hard, ‘I’m looking for Lulu. She’th been missing sinth Thunday. I’ve looked everywhere.’ His voice breaks, ‘She’ll be tho fwightened on her own, she doesn’t like the dark. I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t find her.’

  His eyes have filled up and he looks ready to cry. I pat him on the arm.

  ‘I’ve looked everywhere. I think she’s gone.’ He sounds bereft.

  ‘I’m sure she’ll turn up Norman, she’s probably just run off somewhere, she’ll come back.’

  ‘I’m starting to think she’s been dog napped. She’s a pedigree you know.’ He sniffs.

  I somehow doubt that dog nappers are going to be interested in an aging cream poodle.

  ‘Listen Norman, I’ve got to go out now but when I take Sprocket out later I’ll be sure to keep a look out for Lulu. I’m sure she’ll turn up and be fine. Maybe someone’s taken her in and is looking after her.’

  ‘I hope tho.’ He doesn’t sound hopeful.

  I watch as he trudges off despondently. Poor Norman, I know I’d be devastated if anything happened to Sprocket. I square my shoulders and march down the street dragging Sprocket behind me.

  See? You’re not the only one with problems Russell. Just get on with it.

  We arrive at the doctor’s surgery ten minutes early. Dad has been very quiet but compliant which is most unlike him. Nick has spun him some story about everyone over the age of 75 needing to have a blood test for diabetes. He said he might as well have not bothered with the lie because Dad didn’t show any interest or questioned why Nick and I are taking him or why the doctor hasn’t written to him. I wonder if he knows the real reason, if on some level he knows something is happening to him.

  We sit either side of Dad on an uncomfortable red vinyl bench which faces reception. I’m sure there’s one of these benches in every doctor’s surgery that I’ve ever been in. Dad turns to look at me and I smile at him but he just looks at me blankly.

  Strange how I had to almost to beg for an appointment but we’re the only people in here.

  ‘Christ, can’t believe he still comes here. Thought the Krays would be dead by now. They must be nearly as old as dad,’ Nick says looking around.

  ‘Shssh.’ I glance at Dad but he hasn’t heard and looks deep in thought.

  We used to come to this surgery when we were kids. The peeling posters on the walls might have changed but nothing much else has, the reception counter is the same but with many more coats of glossy cream paint and I’m sure the receptionist is the same one from my childhood. As if she senses me studying her she looks up from her paper shuffling, her tightly permed steel wool hairstyle glinting under the florescent tube light. She looks straight at me with pursed lips and a frown. I smile at her and she sniffs and goes back to shuffling paper.

  At a quarter to ten Doctor McPherson pops his head around the door and calls Dad’s name. The three of us troop in and stand in front of his desk like schoolchildren. We then have an awkward thirty seconds where we sort out the seating arrangements as there are only two uncomfortable looking metal chairs. I shove Dad into the one closest to the doctor and sit in the other chair. Nick hovers behind me.

  ‘Now then Mr Russell, what can we do for you today?’ Dr Ronald still has a Scottish burr even though he’s lived here forever. His brother Doctor Reginald Mcpherson is the other Victoria Street doctor, or Ronnie and Reggie Kray as Nick calls them. They’re not twins but when we were kids we thought they looked the same, curly red hair and fuzzy beards. The red hair is white now.

  Dad says nothing. Nick looks at me expectantly so I guess I’m doing the talking.

  ‘Well, Dad has been getting very confused lately. He seems to think there are people in the house when there aren’t and he’s been seeing things as well. He’s just not been himself at all.’

  It sounds bizarre when I say it and I feel uncomfortable with the way Dr McPherson is looking at me. He taps away at his keyboard.

  ‘He thinks there are MI5 agents staying in his house and they’re sending him secret messages through the cupboard under the stairs.’ I’m speaking quietly so that dad can’t hear what I’m saying. Doctor McPherson raises his eyebrows,

  ‘He’s been making cups of tea as well, for people who aren’t there.’ I don’t tell him about the gun. ‘And sometimes he doesn’t know who we are.’

  ‘Hmm. Mr Russell,’ he says, turning to Dad. ‘how are you feeling today?’

  ‘I’m okay.’ Says Dad. ‘Don’t know what I’m doing here though.’

  ‘Just a bit of a check-up Mr Russell, shall we take your blood pressure, listen to your chest? Take some blood and a water sample. Water infections can make elderly people very confused you know.’ He looks meaningfully at me.

  We sit while Dad has his blood pressure taken, the only sound the puffing of the sphygmomanometer. Dr McPherson listens to Dad’s chest with a serious look on his face. He puts the stethoscope away and taps a few more keys.

  ‘If you can call into Nurse before you leave she can take some blood.’ He places a plastic bottle on the desk, ‘Take that home for a urine sample and pop in when you’re next passing. Now then Mr Russell, can you answer a few questions for me?’

  Dad buttons his shirt up and looks at him and nods.

  ‘Can you tell me who the prime minister is?’

  ‘Theresa May.’

  ‘Can you count backwards from 100 in 7s?’

  Dad sighs. ‘100,93,86,79,72,65....’

  ‘Good, good. Can you remember this name and address for me? John Scott, 23 Brown Road, London.’

  ‘Okay.’ Dad looks at him suspiciously.

  ‘Very good. Do you know what day it is today?’

  ‘Of course I do, it’s Tuesday.’

  ‘Can you tell me what the time is?’

  Dad looks at his watch. ‘Ten to ten.’ His mouth is set in a firm line now.

  ‘Now, remember that name and address I asked you to remember? What was the name?’

  ‘John Scott,’ snaps Dad, ‘and the address was 23 Brown Road, London. Why are you ask
ing me all these stupid questions? I’m not daft you know.’

  ‘No of course you’re not but I understand from your daughter that you’ve been a bit confused lately, thinking someone’s in your house when they’re not, that sort of thing?’

  Dad looks at me accusingly. ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about Doctor. There’s no one living in my house except me. Maybe she’s the one that’s confused.’

  It’s very quiet in the car on the way home. Dad is deep in thought and hasn’t spoken to me or Nick since we came out of the surgery. He’d sat and had his blood taken without comment and tucked the sample bottle in the top pocket of his jacket without saying a word. I almost doubt myself, perhaps I’m the one that’s going round the bend. It’s been a waste of time – what did I expect? A magic pill that would make everything normal again? I feel mean and horrible and I just want to get home.

  I sit in the back of the car gazing out of the window. I remember this route through the Raleigh Estate so well from my childhood. Frogham’s oldest council estate, it wasn’t too bad then but has got progressively worse. If you were brought up on the Raleigh you tend to keep it quiet. It’s large and well-spaced and the houses are built of some sort of grey concrete, not attractive, but good family houses. We pass one house which has been painted a vivid pink, the paint peeling off. The majority of the houses have unkempt gardens with assorted unwanted mattresses and settees, peeling paintwork and overfilled dustbins. We pass an exception, the garden neatly tended with pretty flower beds and bright white net curtains.

  It’s depressing. We pass a children’s play park and I watch as three tracksuit-bottomed boys throw stones at a bedraggled dog which is cowering under a tree.

  ‘Stop the car!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘STOP THE CAR! NOW!’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Nick pulls into the side of the road. ‘Where’s the fire, what are we stopping for?’

  I jump out of the car and start running towards the boys. I can hear Nick calling me but I keep running.

  ‘LEAVE THAT DOG ALONE!’ I shout as I get nearer to the stone throwers.

  They turn and look at me with grubby faces that are far too cynical for their ten years. The biggest of the three pauses with his hand in the air mid throw.

  ‘Fuck off,’ he says in a bored voice. The other two snigger.

  ‘OI! Clear off and torment someone else.’ Nick has followed me and is striding towards us. They look at him then back to me again.

  ‘You deaf or something? Clear off!’ Nick booms at them.

  ‘Oh yeah? Gonna make us mister?’

  ‘If you like.’ Nick marches towards them.

  ‘NICK! Leave them!’

  He ignores me and carries on walking.

  ‘Leave me alone you paedo! I’ll tell the police on ya,’ the older boy squawks.

  Nick towers over him. ‘Oh yeah?’ He pulls his phone out of his pocket. ‘I’ll call them, shall I? Don’t suppose you’ll be a stranger to them.’

  ‘We were going anyway, this is boring.’ The boy shrugs, an uncertain look on his face. He half-heartedly throws the stone in his hand at the dog then saunters off dragging his feet. The two smaller boys follow him, turning occasionally to show us they’re leaving because they want to, not because Nick’s told them to.

  ‘Christ what a dump.’ Nick scans the street. ‘Don’t remember it being this bad when we were kids. I wouldn’t want to come here after dark. And what are you playing at Lou? I thought there was some sort of emergency, not a bloody dog.’ He looks peeved and I can see Dad watching us from the car.

  ‘It’s not a bloody dog,’ I say sulkily, marching towards the dog. ‘It’s Lulu, and we’re taking her home.’

  Lulu is rooted to the spot; I’d been afraid she might run off before I got to her. I put my hand on her back and gently stroke her, she doesn’t move and I can feel her shaking.

  ‘It’s okay, Lulu, it’s okay,’ I say soothingly. ‘We’ll soon have you home.’

  I wrap my arms around her and pick her up and hold her tight. She barely weighs anything and is cold, damp and shivering.

  ‘You want to bring THAT in my car?’

  ‘Well I’m not going to leave her here.’

  ‘So you’re into rescuing stray dogs now are you?’

  ‘She’s not a stray – she’s my friend’s dog and she’s been lost for days.’ Norman would be thrilled to hear me call him my friend.

  ‘’For Christ’s sake. Okay. But I’m warning you if it makes a mess you’re paying for a full valet.’

  ‘Nick?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Stop being a knob.’

  He frowns and then laughs, ‘Okay. C’mon, let’s go before someone nicks my wheels.’

  ‘Do you think the doctors visit was a waste of time?’ I ask Nick as we pick our way over discarded McDonalds wrappers and broken bottles.

  ‘I don’t know.’ We stop for a moment. ‘He seemed perfectly normal in there, passed all the tests. Maybe he’s better now. Maybe we’re making too much of it.’ He sighs. ‘I don’t know Lou, I just don’t know.’

  ‘I feel the same,’ I say. ‘I felt like a fraud in there – as if we were making it up or exaggerating or something. But then I think back over the last few months and I know there’s something wrong with him, he’s not right.’

  ‘There is something wrong but to an outsider he can appear completely normal – I mean, Jean hasn’t mentioned any concerns about him has she and she sees him a lot.’

  ‘No, she hasn’t,’ I say, ‘but she’s not really the observant sort, yeah, she sees him a lot but she’s mostly tidying and making him a sandwich and talking at him, so she probably wouldn’t notice.’

  ‘What happens now? I can stay for a few more days but then I’ll have to go back to London.’

  ‘We have to wait for the test results. Maybe it’s a water infection that’s sent him doolally.’

  ‘I honestly don’t know what we’ll do if the tests come back okay. Ask the doctor for help I suppose?’ Nick looks rueful. ‘God knows.’

  We arrive back at the car; Dad stares at me impassively through the window, I smile at him but he blanks me. I get into the back and settle with Lulu on my lap. She’s not shaking quite so much and takes a tentative lick of my hand. She has dried blood on her leg and ear; I run my fingers over her leg and she flinches a bit, Norman will have to get her checked over.

  ‘Christ, that dog stinks.’ Nick starts the engine.

  ‘So would you if you’d been out in the rain for two nights.’

  Dad doesn’t turn around or talk to me, or ask why we have a dog in the car. He doesn’t talk to Nick either so we’re both getting the blame for the visit to the doctors.

  ‘Drop me off at mine Nick. I’ll come round Dad’s later.’

  I need to reunite Lulu with Norman and put him out of his misery. I need to get changed too, Nick’s right; Lulu stinks.

  ‘I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough, I can’t believeth you found her.’

  An overjoyed Lulu is licking Norman’s face and he has the biggest smile ever.

  ‘I just don’t understand how she got all the way over to the Raleigh – it’s miles away.’

  I can’t understand it either. She was frozen to the spot when I found her. I can’t imagine her running for miles, she’d be more likely to hide.

  ‘Who’s that Norman? Who’s at the door?’A querulous woman’s voice calls from a doorway. I can hear the drone of studio applause and see the flickering blue light of a television through the net curtains.

  ‘Ith Lulu. Mother, Lulu’thhome.’

  ‘She’th a little bit deaf,’ he says to me. ‘Come in and meet Mother, she’ll want to thank you as well.’ Norman opens the door wider.

  I stay on the door step. ‘I can’t stop Norman I have to get back to work, maybe another time.’ I back down the path to the gate.

  ‘Thank you tho much. I thought I’d never thee Lulu again. You saved her life.�
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  I smile and wave. ‘My pleasure.’

  ‘You saved her life, you did. And that’s the God’th honest truth.’

  Yep. He’ll be fine.

  ‘I think you should go.’

  ‘Be better if you went, woman’s touch and all that.’

  I give Nick an old-fashioned look.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Why does it have to be me?’ I hiss. ‘I had to do the talking this morning at the doctors and now Dad won’t even talk to me let alone look at me.’ It’s true. He’s totally ignored me, it’s as if I’m not here. I know it’s bad when I haven’t even been offered a cup of tea. The lounge door is shut and we’re standing in the hallway trying to talk quietly. Jean is in the lounge dusting and I can hear the twittery sound of her voice as she talks to Dad. I know she’s wondering what’s going on and we’re going to have to tell her soon.

  ‘Well then it makes sense,’ says Nick. ‘You’re already in the dog house so it won’t make any difference if you go ‘cos you know he’s not going to like it when he sees you go round there.’

  ‘We can wait and go when he’s not looking. He doesn’t need to know.’

  ’He’ll know,’ says Nick. ‘He never misses anything, somehow, he’ll know. Even if he is doolally.’

  It’s true, he will. I’m sure he has a sixth sense. One of us has to go next door and apologise to the neighbour for Dad’s threatening visit and it looks like it’s going to be me.

  ‘We could just not bother,’ Nick goes on. ‘It’s not like we know him or ever see him.’

  ‘We can’t do that – what if dad does it again? We need to make him aware of the situation. Just in case.’

  ‘Just in case of what?’

  ‘I don’t know. Just in case. Anyway, I don’t want him thinking badly of Dad.’

  Nick doesn’t say anything. I give in.

  ‘Okay I’ll go. Try and keep Dad away from the window, I’d rather he didn’t know.’

  I wait until Dad goes into the kitchen to make yet another cup of tea, although I’m not offered one, and slip quietly out of the front door and down the driveway. I walk quickly past the hedge and into next door’s garden. A long, neat, printed concrete driveway – which I’m not keen on – with room for at least four cars, curves towards the house. Double fronted bay windows. A very big house for one person, but then so is Dad’s.