I Love The Sound Of Breaking Glass (The Christy Kennedy Mysteries Book 2)

by Paul Charles

  If you haven’t got a ha’penny

  Then God Bless you

  - Anon

  ‘Sorry, there’s more. Did you think that was all?’ Kennedy smiled. WPC Coles thought, More? This is nearer movie land, Hollyweird, than Camden Town. She ought to have known better than to expect anything simple from DI Christy Kennedy. James Irvine had told her that she would not believe some of the theories their DI came up with, especially during his in-car monologues. He had also felt it worth pointing out that sometimes Kennedy’s theories were wrong. Yes, sometimes they were very wrong. But they were certainly never boring.

  ‘Now, Mr Best,’ Kennedy continued, ‘let’s go through the evidence which ties you into this intriguing murder.

  ‘First, you wanted to make it appear that the murderer was someone who had access to the studio, so you broke in by smashing one of the panes of glass in the annex window. To cover this up you replaced the glass with a new pane purchased from RJ Welsh. The owner, Mrs Welsh, will pick you from a line-up. You did clean all your fingerprints from the glass, but you left a few in the putty!

  ‘Secondly, you purchased a compact block and tackle pulled system from RAMS in E14. You thought you had destroyed the receipt, but you left just enough of it behind in the rubbish for us to identify the source. I’m sure the shop assistant will remember your face. He definitely remembered the sale.

  ‘Thirdly, you changed the order of your fortnightly dinner party to accommodate your alibi. I believe last week was originally meant to be held at Ted and John’s. Obviously time would not have permitted that.’

  DS Irvine thought to himself in his best Sean Connery accent, You’re pushing it a bit on point three old chap. I’m not sure that would stand up in a court of law. However points one and two will do the business for you.

  Kennedy continued, ‘I have to hand it to you, it’s a clever crime, as clever a one as I have seen. Even to the point of laying out the body like a corpse with tu’penny bits on the eyes.’

  ‘Old pennies,’ corrected Tom Best, apparently involuntarily. Then when he understood the enormity of what he had just said he seemed to decide that there was nothing for it but to continue, eight eyes keenly focused on him. ‘Actually, it wasn’t two penny bits on the eyes, it was one old penny on each. They did that in the old days, to stop the eyes from staring at you, you know.’

  Kennedy inwardly breathed a major sigh of relief. Until that precise moment, he hadn’t been convinced that he had enough hard evidence to convict Tom Best. But he had counted on the murderer being very proud of his work. Once found out and caught, Kennedy hoped that the killer would be only too happy to boast of his perfect crime.

  And boast Best did. He sang like the proverbial bird. All his utterances were made under caution and recorded on tape.

  ‘DS Irvine, take him down and have Sergeant Flynn do the business,’ said Kennedy, once the last sentence of the confession had been laid down on to the tape.

  ‘You know, he really deserved to die,’ spluttered Best as Irvine tapped him on the shoulder. ‘He was living a lie. He was just another bread-head posing as someone who loved music.’

  ‘If that is a crime punishable by death, old son, then, from what little I know of the music business there will be more than a few people running for cover,’ Kennedy retorted as Best was led from the room taking the first incarcerated steps of the rest of his life.

  Kennedy returned to his office in a pensive mood. As he removed the O’Browne case cards and notes from his noticeboard he ran over the case again.

  Best hadn’t ever seemed like a killer. Perhaps one of the reasons he had planned such an elaborate murder was because he didn’t have the guts to do it physically, with his bare hands. Best had sought his revenge on someone he felt had cheated him. The issue was not whether or not Peter O’Browne had cheated Best out of a piece of Camden Town Records. What was important was that Best believed that O’Browne had. That was Best’s reality. He had waited, perhaps letting the hate fester away, planned and eventually executed the person responsible for his situation. In Best’s reality there was no choice in the matter.

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  In the fragments of the songs

  Carried down the wind from some radio

  - Jackson Browne

  The problem with police work, Kennedy felt, was that even when you were successful, it was impossible to take any real satisfaction from it. So he had detected Tom Best as the murderer of Peter O’Browne, but what pleasure could Kennedy take out of the loss of a life? Kennedy’s predominant feeling, as usual after such a case, was one of emptiness. But things were different now he had ann rea in his life. He found it much easier to leave a case behind him, to allow himself the simple luxury of being happy in her company.

  Thanks to Best’s co-operation, Kennedy was going to be home much earlier than expected. So, although it was wet and windy, he decided to walk home over Primrose Hill. The twenty-two windows on the front of North Bridge Hose were all lit as he departed. It was a splendid sight, banishing the darkness on Parkway and warming the wintry night.

  ann rea was waiting for Kennedy at his house. She was playing Jackson Browne’s, I’m Alive, one of Kennedy’s current favourite CDs. The music filled his comfortable, well-lit house from top to bottom. ann rea was baking bread. The smell of rising yeast, the sound of wondrous soulful music, the natural warmth, all made him feel at home as he took off his overcoat. He realised that in the many years he had lived in London, this was the first time he had really thought of his house as home. Up until that point he had probably considered home to be his parent’s house in Portrush, Northern Ireland. But at that moment, with the sound of music playing, the smell of bread, and the sight of ann rea smiling, this was most definitely their home.

  He thought about trying to put his feelings into words and found himself turning into Jackson Browne, whose joyous voice was filling every room. Jackson’s words were about a love lost rather than a love found, but Kennedy supposed you first had to find it before you could lose it.

  He and ann rea were both so filled with emotion, reacting to some strong chord pulling their souls together, that neither spoke, scared of breaking a spell.

  They caressed each other, gently at first, but then more passionately as a different kind of hunger took over

  ‘If you need holding

  Call my name and I’ll be there.’

  The voice from the speakers gently cried out as all thoughts disappeared form Kennedy’s mind. His head was filled with magic sounds and his heart with love; love for ann rea and love for himself. He felt good about himself.

  ‘Like a river flow

  Rolling ‘til it ends in the sea

  Our pleasure grows

  Rolling ‘til it ends in you and me’

  And then he was lost, there was no music, no smells, no heat, no cold, no light.

  Kennedy couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when they all dissolved. He wasn’t sure if they had all faded together, or gradually, one by one, but they had all definitely disappeared. Now he was just being and being was enough.

  ‘I like the part of that song, you know the beginning of the last one.’

  ‘What?’ Kennedy murmured hoarsely, still floating.

  ‘You know,’ coaxed ann rea, ‘the bit that goes…’ and she started to sing, to sing in a gentle whisper:

  ‘All good things got to come to an end

  The thrills have to fade’

  Then she raised her voice and smiled slightly:

  ‘Before they come round again.’

  Kennedy returned her smile and more…

  THE END

  Inspector Christy Kennedy returns in Fountain Of Sorrow also published by Fahrenheit Press.

  About the author

  Paul Charles is an agent, promoter, author and fan of The Beatles, he was born in Magherafelt, Northern Ireland.

  Acknowledgements

  Special thanks to Nick Lowe for letting me borrow the title of
his fab song, to Caroline North for words on words, Stephen McCusker for words on the force, Jim Driver for words above and beyond, all the songwriters and (or) their publishers for permission to reprint the lyrics, to my parents, Andrew and Cora, for being the best, and to ann b, wherever you may be.

  And Finally…

  Although the characters are all figments of my imagination, I have taken the liberty of (fondly) including several actual locations in the Camden Town/Primrose Hill area, when describing DI Christy Kennedy’s patch. For instance, North Bridge House, the home of Camden Town CID in I Love the Sound of Breaking Glass and the oldest building in the area, is actually a school, and I located the fictitious Camden Town Records in the unique blue Design Building at the top of Parkway.

  Mayfair Mews Studio is a disused recording studio, and places such as The Regent (Fish and Chip Shop), RJ Welsh (Hardware), Regent Bookshop, Fitzroy’s, Vegia Zenia, the Edinboro, the Engineer and the Queens are all actual, and well-loved locations. And yes, RAMS is a genuine shop in E14.

  Two people were tireless with their energy and hard work in helping get clearance on the use of song lyrics: Christina Czarnik and Kenny MacPherson, thank you both.

  And many thanks too to Gerry Rafferty/Heathside Music; Warlock Music Ltd & Rykomusic for Nick Drake; Christy Moore/Newbury Music; Nick Lowe/Plangent Visions Music Ltd & Chrysalis Music & Rock Music Co Ltd; Elvis Costello/Plangent Visions Music Ltd; Ray Davies/Davray Music Ltd & Carlin Music Ltd & Kassner Music; John Prine/Bug Music Ltd; Jackson Browne/Wixen Music Publishing Inc; Mark Knopfler/Rondor Music’ Paul Brady/Rondor Music; The roaches/DeShufflin Inc; Terre Roche/DeShufflin Inc; Mary Margaret O’Hara/BMG Music; Paul Simon/Paul Simon Music; Christine Hennessy/Redemption Songs; Tom Waits/WCM; Grant Lee Philips/Chrysalis Music; Laurie Anderson/Difficult Music; Clifford T Ward/Chrysalis Music; Gilbert O’Sullivan/Grand Upright Music Ltd; Andersson & Ulveaus/Polar Music; Bob Dylan/Special Rider Music & Sony Music; Mike Scott/Dizzy Heights Music & Chrysalis Music & Blue Mountain Music & Polygram Music; Acuff Rose for Hank Williams; Van Morrison/WCM; Peter Gabriel/Hit and Run Music. And Paul Buchanan/WCM.

  All the water experiments were carried out at Maccroft Workshops. Thanks to Ian Ferguson and sorry for the broken rafter!

  Cheers,

  Paul Charles.

  Camden Town, April 1997

  The Inspector Christy Kennedy Mysteries by Paul Charles, published by Fahrenheit Press

  Last Boat To Camden Town

  I Love The Sound Of Breaking Glass

  Fountain Of Sorrow

  The Ballad Of Sean And Wilko

  The Hissing of the Silent Lonely Room

  I've Heard The Banshee Sing

  The Justice Factory

  Sweetwater

  The Beautiful Sound of Silence

  A Pleasure To Do Death With You

  Also by Paul Charles and published by Fahrenheit Press

  One Of Our Jeans Is Missing

  Other Books from Paul Charles

  Inspector Starrett Mysteries:

  The Dust of Death

  Family Life

  St Ernan’s Blues

  McCusker Mystery

  Down On Cyprus Avenue

  Other Fiction:

  First of The True Believers.

  The Last Dance

  The Prince Of Heaven’s Eyes (A Novella)

  The Lonesome Heart is Angry

  Non-Fiction:

  The Best Beatles Book Ever

  Playing Live