Death in Little Venice

by Leo McNeir

  “But you can give me information about him?”

  “Personally, no. But, as they say, I know a man who can.” He started the engine. “We just have to go for a little ride. Won’t take long. Just sit back and relax.”

  “Well, I don’t know. I thought”

  “It’s all right, Marnie. Trust me. You’re in for a surprise.”

  *

  Anne had only been home five minutes when her mother called her to the phone. It was Ralph. He sounded worried.

  “I’ve been trying to get Marnie on the mobile, but it seems to be switched off. I’ve left a message on the office phone, and I thought I’d just try this number for luck. I’m rather surprised to get you there, Anne. Why aren’t you with Marnie?”

  Anne hesitated before replying. Why did Ralph not know about Marnie’s meeting? Why had she not told him? “Did Marnie speak to you this afternoon?”

  “No. She left a message at the porter’s lodge to say she’d see me at the weekend and would ring back later to finalise things. She hasn’t rung yet. That’s why I’m phoning.”

  “And it’s okay for the weekend?”

  “Of course. But where is she now?”

  “Er, she had a meeting.”

  “It’s after seven, Anne. Isn’t that late for a meeting?”

  “An evening meeting.”

  Ralph’s turn to hesitate. “Okay. Do you know where?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Anne, is something the matter? I was only phoning to confirm weekend arrangements, and I’m picking up strange signals. Has something happened?”

  All sorts of questions were racing through Anne’s mind. Why had Marnie not explained about the meeting that evening? She could have mentioned to the porter that she would be out and not contactable. Why had she not even told Anne any of the details? Where was she exactly? “Ralph, I expect Marnie just left a simple message with the porter to save explanations.”

  “Naturally. So can you tell me about this meeting?”

  “She was going to see a clerk of works who’d done a job for Tim Edmonds. She wanted to see if she could get any information that might clarify things.”

  “Where were they meeting?”

  “Somewhere in Fulham, near a tube station. He was going to meet Marnie in his car. That’s all I know. That’s all Marnie knows.”

  *

  As they drove through the evening traffic, Ray Curtis said little at first, negotiating the lights and making a succession of right-hand turns that required his full concentration. Marnie was wondering if this meeting had been a good idea.

  “Ray, surprises aren’t something I’m lacking these days. I think I’d like you to tell me where we’re going.”

  “It’s not far.”

  “That’s a start, I suppose. But I have to say, this is making me a little nervous.”

  “Nervous?” He sounded surprised. “Oh no, don’t be nervous. It’s just a bit, well, tricky, and it might not even work out. I can’t promise. It’s just something that came up.”

  “That’s meant to reassure me, is it? Can you just tell me where we’re going? Are we going to look at something? Or meet someone?”

  They turned into a residential side street in a fashionable quarter. Ray drove slowly along until he found a gap in the parked cars. He reversed into the space. Marnie looked out. It was too dark to see much, even with the street lights, but it looked like a normal up-market road with big houses set back from the pavement, an air of quiet, discreet wealth.

  “This is it,” said Ray. “Leave all the talking to me.”

  He stayed where he was and switched off the engine and the headlights. Marnie looked out again. The street was deserted. There was no movement in the shadows. Only faint traces of light could be seen from the windows of the houses that were heavily curtained against the winter evening. Not a soul stirred. “Talking?” she said quietly.

  Ray’s voice was equally quiet. “Yeah. Better say nothing. Just sit tight.”

  Marnie thought I could really do without all this. She was about to speak when a torch lit up the inside of the car. It took all her self-control not to jump out of the seat. She swallowed hard, wondering what was going to happen next. Her pulse was racing.

  Beside her, Ray was a model of calm. He wound down the window and looked up. “Hallo, Chris, how’s it going?” The light went out.

  Marnie’s eyes were beginning to focus again after the brightness of the torch. In the half-darkness she could just make out that the man with the torch was in uniform. Police.

  “Evening, Ray. What brings you here?”

  “We just need to look in on the lads for a minute. Won’t take long.”

  “We?”

  Ray waved a hand vaguely in Marnie’s direction. “I’ve got a colleague with me tonight.” He made no further effort to introduce her, and Marnie stayed quietly in the background.

  “Job nearly done?” said the policeman.

  “Not far off. How’s business?”

  “Very quiet, as usual. You’re the only excitement so far.”

  “Lucky you. Shall we go on, then?”

  “You know the way.”

  “See you.” Ray started the engine and manoeuvred the car out of its slot. He began advancing slowly along the road. Glancing back, Marnie had the impression that the policeman was talking into his lapel radio.

  “What was all that about?” said Marnie. She felt completely bewildered.

  “All will be revealed any minute now. Relax. I told you it’d be a surprise.”

  “You can say that again.”

  Ray turned onto the drive of a house that looked imposing against the skyline, but which seemed to be empty. No lights could be seen either inside or outside. As they rolled forward, the drive sloped down steeply. In the headlights Marnie saw a garage door opening in front of them. Still no lights came on, and they entered the garage in total darkness. By now, Marnie was feeling distinctly ill at ease. Beside her, Ray muttered quietly: “Here we are.” And as he spoke the garage was flooded with light, so bright that for some seconds Marnie lost her vision and squinted against the glare.

  “What the hell’s this?” she blurted.

  “This,” said Ray, “is a secret. You’re going somewhere that most people don’t know exists.” He smiled across at her, pleased with his private knowledge.

  “You mean like a spy base or something?” She felt absurd speaking like that, but could not imagine anything else. It seemed like a scene from a sixties spy movie, and she half expected Michael Caine or Sean Connery to leap out in front of the car.

  Ray frowned. “No, nothing like that. This is someone’s house.”

  “Whose? Is this where Tim Edmonds lived? Is this where you were doing the building work?”

  Ray shook his head. “Much more secret than just an MP’s house.” He turned and pushed open the car door. “Come on. Time for the visit.” Before getting out, he swivelled round and looked Marnie in the eye. “By the way, this is something you won’t be able to tell anyone about. Don’t forget.”

  “Who lives here, Ray?”

  He put a finger to his lips, turned and got out. Marnie followed him from the garage into a narrow corridor. Stopping outside a door at the end, he turned to her again.

  Marnie spoke first, quietly. “I know. I keep quiet and let you do all the talking.”

  “Oh, no, you have to ask the questions. I don’t know what you want exactly.”

  “I’m not sure I do. I’m not even sure why I’m here.”

  Ray smiled. “You’ll see.”

  *

  Anne tried to collect her thoughts, trying hard not to panic. There was probably a simple explanation to all this. Marnie had gone to see a man she did not know, and they were going off together somewhere of which she was ignorant. That made two of them. She had no way of contacting Marnie or getting her any kind of help. She had no phone numbers. If she phoned the police, she could give them no information about what was happen
ing, or why she was worrying. Oh god!

  There was a tap on the door, and her mother came in with a mug of cocoa. “I thought you were working. Are you all right?”

  “Oh yes. Fine. Thanks for the cocoa.”

  “Are you sure you’re fine?” Jackie asked. “You look as if you’re sitting staring in front of you.”

  “That’s because I am. I mean because I’m thinking about something.”

  “What’s up, love?” Anne fidgeted in her chair. “You’re worrying about something. You can’t fool me. What is it?”

  “I’ve lost track of Marnie.”

  “Lost track? That sounds a bit extreme. What do you mean.? I thought she’d gone out for the evening. She’s in London, not the Gobi Desert.”

  “Mum, I don’t know how to … It’s difficult to talk about it. I don’t want to worry you.”

  Jackie sat on the corner of Anne’s bed. “You are getting me worried now. Why should you be concerned about Marnie?” Anne frowned. “You are, aren’t you?”

  Anne bit her lip. “It’s all this Tim Edmonds business. Marnie’s trying to get to the bottom of it. She’s gone to meet a man.”

  Jackie thought back to the previous summer when Marnie had tried to find out about another mysterious death. It had almost got her killed. Not a thought that she wanted to share with her daughter. “And you’re worried because you don’t know where she is.”

  Anne nodded. “We always have a system so that we can keep in touch. We set it up after … you know, last year. This time she’s gone off without letting me know how to reach her.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “I suppose because the man she’s gone to meet is a friend of Philip.”

  “There you are, then. It’s bound to be all right, if Philip knows him. He wouldn’t send her to see someone dodgy, would he?”

  “No. I suppose not. Of course not.” Anne picked up the cocoa and looked into it like a gypsy staring into a crystal ball.

  Jackie stood up. In the doorway she looked back at Anne. “You could always give Philip a ring. It’s not late.”

  “I don’t have his number.”

  “Why not ask Directory Enquiries? He lives in London, doesn’t he?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Worth a try.”

  Anne put down the mug. “Mum, you’re a genius!”

  “Everyone’s heard of Directory Enquiries, my love.”

  “No. The night message. After working hours, they have a night message with a contact number.”

  “Do people need an emergency number for an architect?” Jackie asked, puzzled.

  “It’s in case there’s trouble at one of their sites … vandals, a break-in. We have an out-of-hours number in case someone needs us. I bet that’s where Marnie got the idea.” She ran downstairs and rang Everett Parker Associates.

  “… office hours are from eight-thirty to six, but if your call is urgent, please try our emergency number …” Anne wrote quickly and redialled.

  “Philip Everett.”

  Anne sighed. “Oh, thank goodness!”

  “Who is that?”

  “It’s Anne Price, Marnie’s friend. I’m so relieved to get through.”

  “BT’s not that bad, is it? What can I do for you, Anne?”

  “I wanted to contact Marnie. She’s gone to see Mr Curtis.”

  “Tonight?”

  “She was meeting him outside Fulham Broadway tube station.”

  “I see.”

  “With all that’s happened lately, I was getting worried that I didn’t know where she’d gone. Then I remembered that he was a friend of yours, and I thought you’d be able to tell me where he lives, just to set my mind at rest.”

  “Well, Anne, actually I’ve no idea, to tell you the truth.”

  “But he is a friend of yours?”

  “Not an actual friend as such. I just met him recently at a site meeting. He seemed a decent sort. He’s a good clerk of works, I know that.”

  “I see.”

  “No need to sound so worried. I’m sure everything’ll be fine.”

  After hanging up, Anne sat lost in her thoughts. Jackie eyed her daughter across the living room, wondering if the situation was as bad as Anne seemed to imagine. Suddenly Anne reached for the phone again.

  “Ralph? It’s me again.” She gave him an account of her call to Philip and asked his advice.

  “Might be worth trying the mobile. Perhaps she had it switched off for some reason.”

  “I think I’ll have to. She did say we should only use it in an emergency.”

  “If you like, I’ll keep trying it. I’m going to be working late tonight, proof reading the book. I’ll ring her every half hour, call you if there’s any news.”

  “Okay. I’ll take a phone up to my bedroom. Ring at any time.”

  There was nothing else to be done. Anne tried thinking what Marnie would do in the circumstances, but even Marnie could not magic a solution out of thin air. Patience. Whoever said it was a virtue had obviously never had to try it. What would Marnie do? Anne thought hard. Yes. Marnie would prepare for the unexpected. She would take action rather than sit around worrying. But what action? Anne was not even aware of her mother being in the room, and she jumped when Jackie spoke.

  “Are you sure you’re not just worrying about nothing, Anne? Marnie’s grown up. She knows what she’s doing. I’m sure she’ll be okay.”

  “I suppose so, mum. It’s just that last year …”

  “I know. Look, why not try the mobile again. You never know.”

  “We try to avoid using it in case it can be traced.”

  “Traced? Who by? No-one’s going to listen to your calls. Why should they?”

  “Marnie thinks it tells people where you are, so she likes to restrict it.”

  Jackie was unable to fathom this. It was worlds away from her kind of life and experience. To her, the world was what it seemed. Adverts on TV gave a biased view, she knew that. But on the whole she believed that large companies made and sold products without seeking political power. Mobile phones were like any other machine. You used them to tell people you were on your way home or wanted something at the supermarket. Politicians were basically trying to make people’s lives better. The police were there to protect citizens from criminals. Life was straightforward without hidden layers. Honest people would always be protected if they told the truth. Crime did not pay. Justice prevailed.

  “So you don’t ever use the mobile?”

  “Hardly ever,” said Anne. “I did use it today, though, just once.”

  “And it wasn’t the end of the world, was it? You used it to phone Ralph?”

  Anne tried to remember. “No, I just used it to phone the office. Oh, and then to ring Malcolm Grant. He’s an MP that Marnie knows.”

  “An MP? Well that would be all right, wouldn’t it?”

  *

  Ray Curtis knocked twice and pushed open the door, walking into the room ahead of Marnie. This was not what she expected. It was the size of an average living room, but there the similarity ended. The room was occupied by three men in shirtsleeves, blue shirtsleeves and black ties. Two of them were seated at a long desk facing a bank of electronic equipment, including four television monitors. It reminded her of the gallery where the production team sat in a TV studio. The screens showed views outside the house, plus the road where they had parked. The images were clear, but each was bathed in a cool green light.

  The third man, who looked older than the others by about ten years, was sitting at a normal desk in the middle of the room. He could have been any office worker in any company in the country, except that he was cleaning a pistol. On the wall opposite the monitors was a row of grey metal cupboards with one of the doors slightly open. Marnie’s eyes strayed towards it, and she saw a rank of guns, rifles or machine guns she could not tell. Casually, the man at the central desk leaned over and pushed the cupboard door shut as he stood up. In the same movement he dropped
the pistol into a drawer.

  “Hallo, Ray. You’re working late.”

  “It’s your guv’nor. He’s a slave driver, wants everything doing yesterday, if not sooner.”

  “Ah, well, we have been having some bother. Can’t have any mistakes here, not in the electrics.”

  While they were speaking, the other men glanced round at Marnie. She had the usual impression that they were looking her up and down. Ray did not refer to her or attempt to introduce her.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll pop up and take a look. The contractor swears it was operative when he finished on Tuesday.”

  “Today’s Friday,” said the man with the pistol. “The work can’t be out of guarantee yet.”

  “Give me five minutes.” Ray crossed the room and opened the door at the opposite side.

  Marnie was uncertain about what to do. Should she follow or stay? Why did Ray not speak to her? She was about to open her mouth when one of the men at the long desk turned towards her. “So, you’re Marnie.”

  “Er, yes. I was waiting to be introduced.”

  “You already have been.”

  “You knew I was coming.” She did not need to make the statement into a question. The policeman nodded slowly, staring at her. It had happened to Marnie before that she seemed to observe herself as if from outside her situation. This time, she was inwardly wincing that she was sounding like the dialogue in an old gangster movie. Mr Big – probably in the form of Sidney Greenstreet – would surely appear at any minute. She resolved at all costs not to speak in clichés.

  “What is this place exactly?” Failed again. “I’ve no idea where I am.” And again.

  “What did Ray tell you?”

  “Nothing much. He said it was someone’s house.”

  “There you are, then.”

  Marnie was feeling increasingly irritated, bordering on aggressive. Probably not a wise move in a secret room with three policemen and a cupboard full of weapons. She pulled a chair from the desk and sat down. In as even a voice as she could manage, she said: “Look, we can play word games all evening. The alternative is, you tell me why I’m here and perhaps also where I am. Then we might make some sort of progress.”