Weekend in Weighton Final Amazon version 12-12-12

by Weekend in Weighton (mobi)

  ‘And they came?’

  ‘I don’t know for sure. They were meant to come that day. About the same time that Jimmy turned up. The day that …’ She shrank back in her chair.

  Talk about bad timing: the Nkongos arriving in their Sunday best just as it all kicked off with Jimmy. Not the best way to get the party started. And what about the guest of honour? It finally dawned on me why Elaine had been at the house that day.

  ‘Helen, I’m probably slow on the uptake here, but your sister was meant to be at the house that day, wasn’t she?’

  She nodded and wiped away another tear. ‘After I agreed to see Robert, the guilt became too much. It niggled away at me. All I did was agonise about what I’d tell him. And I was nervous he’d realise I was lying. Then I thought, why not let him know the truth. Why not let Robert meet his mother. I thought it would make everything right for everyone. It was meant to be a wonderful surprise.’

  I sat back down on the hard plastic chair and patted her arm. ‘I understand.’

  She looked at me and shrugged, like she’d passed on some of her burden. Her eyes were smudged with red but she’d run out of sobs.

  It wasn’t the best time to leave, but I had to move fast and track down the Nkongo nephews. They were my ticket to a life without walls. And they might have an African sign over Jimmy.

  ‘I hate to ask, Helen, but do you know where Robert is staying?’

  ~

  On the way back to the car I thought about the revelations and riddles I’d flushed out at the nursing home. Taken together, I couldn’t make up my mind if it was good news or bad news. On the bright side, Jimmy suddenly looked a shoe-in for murder one; I could picture him striding across the lounge in Colonel Mustard fashion, twisting a short length of rope, albeit with a change of victim. But the Nkongos impromptu appearance on the board was a complication I could do without. And even if I did have the where and the how on Jimmy, I was still confused about the why? Or at least about why he’d done it himself? Curiouser and curiouser, some might say.

  Helen’s invitation to Robert seemed akin to arranging dynamite on top of a powder keg. And whether borne from long-fermented guilt or not, her last minute impulse to involve Elaine provided the spark. So it came to pass that a surprise grand reunion had been lined up. Helen’s way of pulling the family rabbit from a hat and bringing a curtain down on the whole miserable mystery play. Ain’t that the soapy truth.

  But – surprise, surprise – as things worked out, it only amounted to a drum roll for the show-stopping finale. Enter Jimmy and some double-take jeopardy.

  I’d come away with a rambling tale of unhappy families. I tried to take it all in, but I wasn’t sure what to believe or where it led.

  When I’d finally told Helen about the incident at Clegg’s flat, she couldn’t accept it. All she’d done was shake her head and sob her poor heart out.

  Job satisfaction hadn’t been a prominent feature of my new career. Telling my first client that her long-lost nephew had accidently killed her latest squeeze didn’t count as a perk of the job either. But it had to be done. To help ease my conscience about leaving the scene of an emotional crime, I gave Helen a pledge to do all I could to see Jimmy locked up. What can I tell you? It didn’t do much to ease her immediate distress, but I consoled her as best I could and left. After all, Weighton’s clear-up rate had greater need. More importantly, so did mine.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Sunday – 14:10

  By the time we passed the Trafford Centre I’d updated Kate on Helen Porson’s “Tales of the Unexpected”. Kate listened but didn’t say much. Her focus appeared to be on the traffic, but I knew she was storing. As the traffic eased and she got into her driving rhythm, the download began.

  ‘So she saved the best ‘til last?’

  ‘The son?’

  Kate glanced and nodded. ‘If you hadn’t picked up on the connection she wouldn’t have said anything.’

  I laughed, though not in a good way. ‘Yeah. It’s getting to be a family trait.’

  ‘Being evasive?’

  ‘Shifty, anyway.’

  ‘You don’t believe her?’

  ‘Mostly, I do. And you have to make allowances. A dead twin and a death wish from Jimmy C – bound to mess with anyone’s mind.’

  ‘Even so,’ said Kate, as she steered the car between lanes, ‘sounds flaky to me.’

  She had a point. The same thing had been on my mind since leaving Flixton Grange. ‘Yes and no. I put her on the spot. She had to weigh up quickly what to tell me. Or more to the point, what not to tell me.’

  ‘So she conveniently left out any mention of Robert? Or that she’d arranged for Elaine to see him as a surprise?’

  ‘It makes sense in a demented kind of way. She gambled I didn’t know about the fabulous Nkongo boys. There’s no way she could have known I’d already been up close and personal with them. Or about the attack on Clegg. The cops haven’t gone public on it yet – Bob says they’re giving themselves until Monday. Whatever her reasons, she decided to leave the Nkongos out of her story. She probably assumed they’d left town.’

  ‘But she knew they were going to her house that day. It must have crossed her mind if they turned up?’

  ‘Afterwards, maybe. But having seen Jimmy C bolt from the house, then discovering a dead Elaine, I don’t think those two were the first thing on her mind.’

  ‘And later?’

  ‘She probably thought she’d missed them.’

  Kate checked her mirrors while making a sound that suggested the contrary. ‘But wouldn’t she have been concerned about them coming back when she was contriving her great escape?’

  I turned up my hands. ‘I didn’t ask her, I didn’t think of it.’

  ‘And when she did the whole Out of Africa production you’d think she’d have mentioned the son then?’

  My driver didn’t want to let this one drop, but I thought it through again and shook my head. ‘Not necessarily. She didn’t know about Robert until she got the letter. And she thought it was a scam at first. That’s what she said to Clegg. I think that’s what he came to tell me that night at the flat.’ The memory of his warm corpse pressing down on me elicited a shudder, but Kate didn’t notice. I went on processing out loud. ‘I think Helen churned out the original story as she’d always told it.’ At that point I nodded, but more to convince myself than Kate. ‘Anyway, a prodigal African son is one family secret she’d want staying that way. If there was no need to tell me about it, why say anything?’

  ‘And the other guy at Clegg’s flat? Is that the older brother?’

  ‘Yes, his half-brother, Kip.’

  Kate looked in the rear-view mirror again. She checked more often than me. The paranoia was contagious.

  ‘Were they out to scam her?’

  I pushed out a breath and shook my head. ‘I don’t think so. She’d already told Robert that Elaine had died, and that hadn’t put him off. He needed closure. She refused to help at first, then changed her mind. And Robert already knew where she lived – that may have been a factor. Once she realised he was in town she probably thought he’d turn up anyway. Whatever, she agreed to a meeting. Then she laid on the surprise cherry, which is why Elaine was at the house.’

  ‘Why didn’t she just stick to her story? That Elaine was dead? Especially if she thought it might be a scam. It would have been safer. Even if they had turned up unannounced.’

  ‘I guess curiosity got the better of her. And I think she began to realise they were genuine. And all that guilt? It must have been chewing her up for a long time. She needed the closure as much as he did. It might just have come down to doing the decent thing. At heart, I think she’s a good person.’

  Kate pulled a face like she didn’t believe it. That prosecution DNA runs deep. After another check in her car mirrors, she said, ‘You know the day of the murder?

  ‘How could I forget?’

  ‘You told me they followed you.’

 
‘Well, one of them did.’

  ‘Why?’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Somehow they must have found out my connection to Helen P. With her gone, I was the next link.’

  ‘And their part in Clegg’s demise?’

  ‘It’s like I told the baa baas. An accident, I reckon. Everything tells me that Robert Nkongo is desperate to find out about his mother. Finding him is our next quest.’ I hated Kate driving – I couldn’t see her eyes. Staring at her legs was a close second, but that verged on being sleazy. I looked out the window instead.

  We peeled off the M60 and onto the M56, passing the cheap airport hotels.

  ‘Do you know where Robert is?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah. Helen gave me the name of a B and B on Hope Street.’

  ‘If they’re still there?’

  I smiled. ‘I don’t think the Nkongos are going anywhere. Not until Robert finds what he came for.’

  ‘He’s going to be disappointed.’

  ‘Yep. But that’s where my bluff comes in.’

  I watched a plane climb, then bank away from the airport, and wondered where it was going. There were no stars for me to wish on, but I wished, wherever it was going, Kate and I were on it. Unless it was Norwich.

  Kate gave me a sideways glance. ‘The man has a plan?’

  ‘Yes Siree. Operation “Get-out-of-jail-free card”.’ I saw a sign for the next junction and pointed. ‘But first: Operation Lunch.’

  ~

  We sat quietly in the Three Bells waiting for our empty plates to be taken away. The constant rattle and hum said the place was still busy, that the late lunch trade was thriving. My regular I-Spy took in the entrance and the bar. An even blip sounded on the radar.

  I finished my beer and shuffled along the bench seat to be closer to Kate.

  She eyed me with a slight turn of her head. ‘You’ve got that confessional look. Should I be worried?’

  ‘If I was naked, maybe.’

  She looked me up and down. ‘So far so good.’

  I couldn’t untangle my eyes from hers. I was in danger of leering.

  ‘If you’ve got a point,’ she continued, ‘then do fire away’.

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s incoming.’

  A flourish of her hand encouraged me to keep going.

  ‘You’ve known me a long time, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  My teeth pinched my lip. ‘So you know I’m not serious that often.’

  ‘Can’t say I’d noticed. But go on.’

  She kept a beautiful straight face. Even at an angle it was still the loveliest face.

  ‘I wanted to say thanks for helping today. I couldn’t have, well … you know. I’m sure you’ve got the drift by now.’

  She put her hand on mine, her thumb pressing lightly. ‘You’re welcome.’

  I felt the warmth radiate from her touch, and I didn’t want it to stop. ‘How come you offered to help last night? The text, I mean.’

  Surprise simmered on her face. ‘I know someone who works at the police station.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Someone who keeps me informed.’

  I gave her the “Oh” face. ‘Your very own blue canary. Everyone should have one.’

  ‘Comes in useful, yes. That’s how I heard about your latest misadventure.’

  ‘And were you impressed?’

  ‘Not especially. But by the time I’d found out about it, they’d already let you go. How you managed that I’ll never know.’ She gave a stunted laugh. ‘Then you were spotted having a high old time at the casino. You pack a lot in on your Saturday nights.’

  ‘I know. I should have stayed in and washed my hair.’

  She tapped pink nails into the back of my hand. ‘Anyway, after your eventful night, I thought you might be in need of roadside assistance today.’

  ‘My fourth emergency service.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  I drew in my eyebrows. ‘And how come everywhere I go you have someone on the inside?’

  ‘Professional networking. You should try it.’

  ‘It’s more than professional, Kate. You’re like a bloody Bond villain. Double agents everywhere. I bet you have your own global satellite system?’

  She shook her head. ‘Just one big one, right over Weighton.’

  ‘Remind me not to double-time you.’ I pushed out my thumb to touch hers. ‘Single-timing would be a start, though.’

  Kate’s thumb went still, and she looked at me, her cheek twitching slightly.

  ‘Not gonna happen,’ I said. ‘Is it?’

  ‘We’ll see, Ed.’

  ‘Because I was thinking, we make a good team and when this is all over–’

  ‘I’ll be sending you food parcels.’

  Her quip felt like a thump from Tommy, but I tried not to let it show. I know I’m one to talk, but there’s a time to be funny, and there’s a time to show empathy with the accused.

  ‘Kate Connolly, deflecting with humour. Who knew?’ I let her hand go and pushed my empty glass to the far side of the table. ‘Time we were going. We have a case to solve. My latest speciality.’ I stood to go.

  ‘Ed?’

  I looked back at her. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I heard about your dad. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  She sat still. ‘Is that all you can say?’

  ‘Pretty much.’

  ‘I may have been away, but I haven’t lost my memory. I know you two were close.’

  I nodded. ‘We were.’

  ‘But you’ve not said anything. At least, since ...’

  I sat back down next to her. I didn’t know what to say, but I thought sitting down might make it easier.

  ‘Ed, we can’t just pick up where we left off.’ Her fingers curled around my forearm and I felt the pressure. ‘But we used to talk about things like this. It wasn’t all fingers on buzzers.’

  I breathed her in, straining to smell every nuance of her warm skin. ‘You know what I remember most about my dad?’

  She looked at me like she suddenly didn’t want to hear, but she’d already paid the deposit.

  ‘Here’s the thing,’ I said. ‘All my life, I’ve been a complete fuck-up. I knew it, he knew it. But he never stopped telling me he loved me ... that he was proud of me. Isn’t that something? And I lived for the day I thought I’d make it happen. For real. But it never came. Thing is, even though he’s dead, I’m still out there trying.’

  Her eyes were clouding with tears. She squeezed my hand and nodded. ‘Ed, you don’t have to try anymore.’

  ‘I know. But it helps.’

  I locked eyes with Kate and then let her hand go. I stood again. ‘Right. To the Kate-mobile. We have Nkongos to nix.’

  I walked out of the Three Bells knowing for whom they tolled. I also knew we wouldn’t speak on the way back to Weighton.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Sunday – 15:35

  I stood outside Oakmere Lodge waiting for the Nkongos to emerge. I knew they wouldn’t be long. A “clear and present” look from the girl on the desk told me they were in residence. Having sent my “compliments” to their room, I figured they’d soon come. A small mound of mortar dust marked my wait in heel-taps on the wall outside.

  When they came, the Nkongos didn’t just emerge, they bundled out of the large swing doors. The East African Two grappled with each other in their haste to reach me. I didn’t know who was who, but I instantly recognised my roly-poly Adson Street stalker. His eyes were bulging wider than last time, and his boomerang nose looked swollen, courtesy of Eddie G’s iron fist of fury, in case anyone was wonderin’. And whadya know? It was ol’ “Chicken George” straining to get in front, all gangly arms and fiery intent.

  The other one was trying and failing to hold his sidekick in check. He looked younger and slighter, and noticeably not as black. I couldn’t say he had the “family” look, but this guy was Robert Nkongo for sure.

  As they reeled in my location, I
pushed myself off the wall and stood straight-backed. Unlike our last game of hide’n’seek, I didn’t brace myself this time for the onslaught. My back-up plan was already ahoy. What can I tell you? That whole “learning fast” shizzle had caught up with me.

  I wondered who’d be the first to speak? Any Ol’ Joe-Schmo would say it was an even bet, but my payload was on the failed tail. He seemed like he had a lot to say. And despite our previous mash-ups, he looked as far from Eddie-fearin’ folk as you might get.

  And so it was that Kip Nkongo arrived first, but my bet was lost, since without any speak, he grabbed my jacket and heaved me against the wall. My arms went up in surrender. I looked into his oversized bulbs then made a point of staring over his shoulder.

  ‘I know you’re not gonna believe this,’ I said, ‘but there’s someone behind you.’ I gave him the big déjà vu nod and winked. ‘Smile for the camera, shit-face.’

  They both turned to look. On the pavement behind us, leaning casually – and beautifully – against her car, was Kate. She waved with one hand while her other pointed a camera phone at our little cameo.

  ‘Harry Hill will love this one, boys.’

  Robert Nkongo slipped his arm around his brother’s shoulders and dragged him off.

  In super slo-mo I lowered my arms. ‘Bless you, Robert.’ I gave him the stiff-eye. ‘It is Robert?’

  He nodded, edged the snarling Kip a few steps away, and turned back to me. ‘What can we do for you?’

  I smoothed down my jacket and gave a little shake of the head. ‘Au contraire, my Princely friend. It’s what I can do for you.’

  ‘He lies,’ interjected Kip, screwing up his face. He made to step forward, but the younger Nkongo held him back.

  Robert gave his brother a stern look, then spoke. ‘I’m sorry. My brother is … hot-headed.’

  ‘Impetuous to a fault, maybe, but I love him anyway. He must’ve mentioned me? We’re well acquainted already.’ I gestured at Kip. ‘Isn’t that right, Gonzo?’

  Kip scowled.

  ‘Please,’ said Robert, ‘tell us why you are here?’