Death Comes to Durham

by Jeanne M. Dams

  ‘Which hasn’t been refrigerated for hours. It’ll have to be thrown out. What a pity. All right. David went to – wait a minute, I’ll get it – to Bishop Auckland. Very odd name, but then England specializes in peculiar place names.’

  ‘Says a woman who lived near Stoney Lonesome and Gnaw Bone, Indiana.’

  ‘All right, all right! David arrives at George’s house. I suppose George gave him directions?’

  ‘Probably. Or satnav. At any rate, he got there, and discovered chaos.’

  ‘And no George. Before he’d even set foot in the house, he was attacked by a gang of hooligans dressed as policemen. Why, Alan? Why would anyone do such an idiotic thing?’

  ‘If we knew that, my dear, we might hold the key to the whole incident. Clearly someone put them up to it. And we can guess the motivation from the result. Evidence was destroyed, perhaps by accident, perhaps not. The invaders made it much more difficult for the police to identify the person – or persons – who caused the damage.’

  ‘Was David a target of the invasion?’

  ‘Make a note of that question, love. It’s one for David to answer; he would know if it felt personal. Myself, I’d say not. This little timetable exercise has started some wheels turning, and I’m beginning to get the notion that David’s visit had nothing to do with the destruction.’

  He settled back, hands tented and touching his mouth. If Rodin had seen him, The Thinker would have adopted a similar posture. Then his hands returned to the desk. ‘Consider this scenario. George calls, invites David to meet with him. He ends the call; the doorbell rings. He’s taken aback; David could not possibly have got there that fast.’

  ‘Does George know where David is coming from?’

  ‘I don’t know, and we’ll want to ask, but he certainly knows he isn’t just around the corner. All right, the bell rings. I’m not going to speculate about who’s at the door, except that George isn’t worried about letting him in. That means he knows the person, or at least he/she doesn’t have a threatening appearance. The person comes in. Now I confess I’m reaching a bit here, but I think they talk for a bit, and the conversation escalates into a quarrel, then a fight. Visitor loses his temper entirely and starts throwing things.’

  ‘Is George injured in all this? Injured, or—’

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t even guess. David made no mention of blood, but anything is possible. Perhaps he just gets out, gets away from this maniac who’s destroying his house.’

  ‘But not in his car.’

  ‘As you say. We don’t know why. He leaves, either of his own volition, or … not. The maniac also leaves, having expended his fury. Being once more in something resembling a right mind, the person sees costumed actors leaving the pub on their way back to rehearsal, and has the bright idea of creating a diversion. He offers to pay them for entering the house and making the mess even worse. They’re a bit tipsy, and it sounds like fun.’

  ‘And just as they’re heading over there, David arrives. Alan, that would mean he just missed catching the guy! He must have been getting out of there just as David was going in.’

  ‘By a few minutes, yes. If David has worked that out, he must be feeling a bit frustrated just now. If I’m right about this, of course. It’s all spun out of air.’

  ‘Not quite. Somebody did trash the house; somebody did get the bobby chorus to invade. It’s a wonder they didn’t break into song while they were at it. I can just hear them bellowing “With catlike tread upon our prey we steal” while tromping through the house.’

  ‘That’s the chorus of pirates, dear, not the coppers, but they might have done. Perhaps they did. Though I imagine David would have mentioned it. We’re sliding into silliness, my dear.’

  ‘We are. I don’t know about you, but I badly need a nap. Let’s resume this not-very-fruitful exercise a bit later.’

  SEVENTEEN

  When my phone rang and woke me from a nap, I expected some new tale of calamity from David. Instead it was Eileen who greeted me.

  ‘You sound a bit foggy. Did I wake you?’

  I sighed. ‘I admit it. The past few days have been … sort of trying. But it wasn’t a restful nap, so I’m just as glad you called. What’s up?’

  ‘Nothing good, I’m afraid. I shouldn’t bother you with this, but I thought … well, you’ve been kind to Tim, and—’

  ‘Is something wrong with Tim? He’s not hurt!’ My voice was sharp. On the other side of the bed, Alan sat up, his brow furrowed.

  ‘No, nothing like that. It’s just that … oh, it’s dreadfully unfair!’

  ‘Tell me.’ I turned on the speaker to let Alan hear.

  ‘Tim’s flatmates have moved out. No warning, they just said they wanted a better place. Maybe they can afford it. Tim can’t. And the rent is due, and the landlord won’t give Tim time to find new flatmates. He’s going to be out on the street!’ She was fighting back tears, not very successfully.

  ‘All right, dear, calm down. I think we may be able to help.’ Alan had picked up his phone and moved to the bathroom. I shut off the speaker, just to make sure Eileen wouldn’t hear; I had a good idea what Alan was doing. ‘Why don’t the two of you come over for tea? I know you should both be studying, but I wouldn’t imagine your concentration is at its best just now.’

  Eileen drew in a long, shuddering breath, the remnant of a sob. ‘I’ll go and persuade him. He’s not with me now; I didn’t want him to hear this call. I’ll tell him – oh, dear, what shall I tell him?’

  ‘Tell him I called you and invited you both to tea. It’s only a half-lie, and we can tell the whole truth if necessary. Come as soon as you can; I’ll send Alan out for some goodies.’

  I clicked off before she could object and waited for Alan to end his call.

  ‘You called David?’

  ‘Yes. He’s on his way. With tea cakes. I think it may work out, Dorothy.’

  ‘Can we lend Tim some money, meanwhile? I doubt he’d accept an outright gift, but it’s going to take David a while to find a new place. That’s if he agrees. What did you tell him?’

  ‘Only that our friend had a dire housing problem, and we thought his needs and David’s might mesh. He jumped on it. He hasn’t said much about his living situation. He’s loyal to his family. But we’ve both felt his unrest.’

  ‘I hope he gets here first, to let us lay a little groundwork.’

  But as it worked out, Tim and Eileen were the first to knock on our door. I explained that we were going to have another guest, who was bringing the tea cakes, and Alan went to filch another couple of chairs from somewhere. A party of five was going to stretch the capacity of our room to the limit.

  David arrived. Everyone was introduced. I made tea; David, bless his heart, had brought a larger pot and a few teabags. ‘I knew B&B facilities weren’t going to be adequate for a tea party,’ he said with a grin. Bless the man! He was beset by worries, and was still thoughtful and able to smile.

  He passed around the large box of food. He had brought not only scones and fruit tarts and luscious-looking cakes, but tea sandwiches in great variety – and some paper plates to put them on. ‘David, this is a feast!’ I exclaimed. ‘I won’t need to eat for a week.’

  ‘You told me students would be here. Students are perpetually hungry. Do help yourselves, everyone.’

  When we all had full plates (all except David, who had taken one modest sandwich), David began the conversation. I held my breath. Was he going to spill the beans?

  ‘I’m glad you’re here, you two,’ he addressed Eileen and Tim. ‘I have a problem you may be able to help me solve. Don’t be offended, Alan and Dorothy, but you don’t know Durham well.’

  ‘Not at all,’ I put in.

  ‘Precisely. And I don’t know it well, either; I’ve lived here only a few months. I’ve been living with a granddaughter, and while she is all that is kind, I know that she longs for a little privacy, as well as more room. She and her husband have two young children, and we
’re a bit squashed. As I’ve hinted to Dorothy and Alan, I’ve been hoping to move, and have found a pleasant house not far from here, with a bit of garden. It’s too big just for me, though. I’d like to find someone, preferably a student, who would share with me. The cost would be nominal; I’m wanting company and some help about the house more than help with the rent. Do you, either of you, know a student who isn’t afraid of a bit of work and wouldn’t mind sharing with an old duffer like me?’

  Tim put down the strawberry tart he was about to devour. ‘Sir, did someone put you up to this?’

  David smiled. ‘In a sense. Alan did mention that he knew someone who might be looking for housing. But I found this house some days ago and signed a lease. I’m looking to move in any day now. Are you telling me you’re interested?’

  ‘Interested! Sir, you are the direct answer to prayer! I’ve always believed the Lord protected his lambs; now I know for certain. This morning my flatmates moved out, leaving me with full responsibility for the rent, which is due tomorrow. I can help you with moving, if you’re seriously wanting me to share? You don’t know a thing about me. I can get references, but it will take a little time, and—’

  ‘I know you’re a friend of my great friends. That’s enough reference for me.’ He looked at his watch. ‘It’s a bit late in the day to begin a relocation, but if you’ll come with me – after you’ve finished your tea – I’ll have another key made and show you the house, and you can bring your things any time you want. Then we’ll set a time tomorrow to begin my move. I imagine it will be more troublesome than yours. I’ve had a good many more years to collect barnacles.’

  ‘I’ll bet you’ve been careful about scraping them off, though. I’m guessing you’re a practical sort of chap, more attached to people than things.’

  ‘You’ll have to watch your step, David, with this lad in your house,’ said Alan. ‘He can see further through a brick wall than most people. I’ve told him he’d make a splendid policeman if he ever decided to give up his theological ambitions.’

  ‘Not a chance of that, I’d say.’ David looked Tim over with an amiable eye, while Eileen gave Alan and me a look of such gratitude I was hard put not to cry.

  We settled down to our tea. We all, especially the kids, did full justice to the bounteous spread, but they ate fast, plainly eager to be on their way. David pushed his plate aside first. ‘Right. You two, come with me to my car. We have a lot to do! Alan, Dorothy, I’ll ring later.’ I put the few leftovers in a box and handed it to Eileen, who gave me a hug on her way out. At that I did shed a tear or two.

  When they had left Alan and I did what we could to tidy up the mess. The wastebasket in the room was entirely inadequate to deal with crumby, jammy paper plates and napkins and bits of tarts and sandwiches and scones. Alan crammed it all into a Tesco bag I’d been saving and put it outside the door to carry down to the breakfast room in the morning, and we relaxed.

  ‘That’s one mission accomplished, anyway,’ I said smugly. ‘Tim’s found a safe home, cheap and secure.’

  ‘And David’s his own man again. He and Tim will be good for each other, I think. I always thought it a pity David and Gwen never had children. Now David has a son.’

  ‘Not quite yet – but they’re headed that way, I agree. But he also has a real great-aunt in deep trouble. We’re one day closer to the deadline, and no closer to exonerating that poor old dear.’

  ‘No. I meant to ask David if he’d found another place for Amanda to stay, but there was no chance.’

  ‘Maybe when he calls later. But Alan, nobody wants that for her! We want her to stay where she is, where she’s safe and contented and loved. We need to stop wasting time and solve the … er … the confounded problem!’ The cathedral bell, chiming out the near approach of evensong, took the stronger adjective from my lips.

  ‘Ah – a reminder. Let’s go seek some help and consolation, and then tackle the problem afresh.’

  There is something about evensong. The prayers and the readings are all designed to envelop one in a sense of security, all anxiety banished, all fears swept away. And when the service is sung by a superb choir, those of us who love music are left feeling that heaven is not very far away at all.

  We came out into a perfectly lovely evening, pink and gold and green, and soft, fragrant with the scent of just-opened lilacs and new-mown grass. I took a deep breath. ‘Alan, I don’t want to go back up to the room. I’m getting cabin fever in that place. We need to find a quiet, friendly place where we can sit and think about our problem. Is the little library open in the evening, do you think?’

  A student who was hurrying by heard us and stopped. ‘I’m afraid the Palace Green library closes at five. Are you staying in the castle?’

  We smiled back. ‘Yes, in the building – I don’t know the name of it – the one where the Great Hall is.’

  ‘Ah, then come with me. It’s not far.’ He kindly slowed to our more elderly pace and led us down toward the market square to a pleasant place called The Shakespeare.

  ‘A pub?’ I said dubiously. ‘We were looking for a quiet place to sit and talk and think.’

  The young man grinned. ‘In term time it’s mobbed. Everybody’s favourite place just before exams! But just now it’ll be as quiet as you like. And the beer is good! Enjoy the peace while you can.’ He waved and hurried away before we could even ask his name.

  Once we got inside, I was delighted. The upstairs room was spacious, comfortable, well-lit, and deserted. It was the ideal space for studying, or for mulling over a knotty problem, and no one seemed to care that we didn’t want to order food or drink.

  ‘Right,’ said Alan briskly. ‘To work. Shall we resume our timeline for last night, or take a new tack?’

  ‘New. We were going around in circles. I’d like to note down questions we need answered, and then work out how to answer them.’

  ‘That last is easier said than done, love.’

  ‘Yes, but the questions come first. We’ll find the answers. We always do!’ I was buoyed up by evensong, optimistic and cheerful. I got out my notebook. ‘I propose we concentrate for now on what happened last night, because it’s the most recent event.’

  ‘We don’t know that it has any bearing on who killed Blake Armstrong.’

  ‘We don’t know anything,’ I retorted, ‘but we never will unless we start asking the right questions. And the first question I want answered is where is George Elliot?’

  ‘The police will be working on that, Dorothy. And they have the resources.’

  ‘Yes, but you’re forever saying they don’t have enough resources, enough manpower, enough anything. It can’t hurt for us to ask around. Second question: why didn’t he take his car to wherever he went?’

  Alan thought about that and listed several possibilities, ticking them off on his fingers. ‘He was thinking only about escaping the madman who was tearing up his house. His car wasn’t running properly, or it was out of petrol. He was dead.’

  ‘There’s another one, and I just thought of it. Alan, where do you keep your car keys?’

  ‘In my pocket.’

  ‘Not when you’re at home, you don’t. When you get ready for bed you put them in that wooden tray on the dresser, along with everything else from your pockets. And half the time in the morning you forget to put everything back in your pockets until you’re ready to leave the house, and then you have to go back upstairs to get it all. Suppose George didn’t have his car keys handy? He sure wouldn’t have taken time to go get them, not if he was running in fear of his life.’

  Alan slapped the table. ‘Full marks for that one, Dorothy! We can’t know if that’s what happened, but it’s a very intelligent suggestion.’

  ‘And if the team searching George’s house finds his keys—’

  ‘In some spot far from the door—’

  ‘Then we still won’t know for sure, but the odds go up considerably.’

  We exchanged smug looks. and I made a note:
query car keys. ‘Now, next question. How can we find and talk to the men in the Pirates chorus?’

  ‘That’s another item the police are chasing down.’

  ‘Ah, but I propose to go about it in a different way. First, I’d bet money that most of them are students. That means we talk to Eileen and Tim. If they know any of the choristers, we can get an introduction, and they’ll talk to us, or at least to me, more readily than to the police.’ Alan grinned. ‘Well, you’re the one who always says people find it easy to talk to me!’

  ‘And it’s true, my love. We do need the kids’ help. Which reminds me: we have to get Tim and David’s new address. He forgot to give it to us.’

  ‘Right. We’ll have to do that when we see him this evening. But first I’m going to get us two tickets to the Pirates performance.’

  ‘Dorothy, we don’t even know when it’s on. We may be back home by then.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. The dress rehearsal was last night; we know that because the chorus was in costume. We’re probably missing the first performance right now, but there’s bound to be at least one more. We’ve always enjoyed G&S, and this way, even if our two students don’t happen to know anyone in the cast, we have the best possible reason to go to the theatre and talk to them afterward. And you see, if we can find the ringleader of that exceedingly stupid prank, we’ll know who put them up to it. Ta-da!’

  ‘That’s if the pseudo-bobbies know the chap. That’s anything but given.’

  ‘Oh.’ I hadn’t thought of that. ‘But would they – the singers, I mean – would they have invaded someone’s house on the suggestion of a stranger?’

  ‘If our speculation is right, they were all reeling a bit, and were offered a bribe. Under those circumstances, yes, I think they’d have agreed eagerly.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said again. ‘Well, we can but try. If we don’t learn anything, we’ve lost nothing but a few pounds for the tickets.’

  ‘And an evening.’ Alan soberly reminded me that time was short.