Ring and Die (Jordan Lacey Mysteries Book 6)

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Ring and Die (Jordan Lacey Mysteries Book 6) Page 18

by Stella Whitelaw


  Marchmont Tower loomed ahead in the dark. The patrol car had left us miles back. The folly was beginning to look like home, although I still yearned for the simplicity of my two bedsits. I was a person who needed to live alone. I liked the uncomplicated freedom.

  DI James parked round the back. I could already feel what was going to happen. This man would dump me indoors and then go back to work. I gathered the blanket around me as if I was the Indian woman, Pocahontas. As he unlocked the door and switched off the security system, I swept in.

  “I’ll have a hot bath if you don’t mind,” I said with resolution. “I’ll eat something hot if I can find anything. And then I will sleep in Ben’s bed. Thank you, James, but you don’t need to worry about me anymore.”

  “Good,” said James, his mobile glued to his ear. “There’s been a car crash reported outside Arundel. I must go. It may be our friends, spreading their wings to new territory. Sleep well, sweetheart.”

  He bent and kissed my cheek and then he was gone. The room was empty. It was the first time he had kissed me voluntarily. It took me a few moments to recover.

  I shed my clothes on to the bathroom floor, had a hot bath, water up to the armpits. No foam, no bubbles, just soap, nothing feminine around. I made a chicken and noodles cuppa soup in a mug, which was all there was in the cupboard, and then trailed in the bath towel upstairs to Ben’s bedroom.

  Nothing had changed in the room. No one had removed his belongings. It was as if he was still alive. I wept a few tears into his pillow and then fell asleep, parceled-out. Dear Ben. He hadn’t been the right man either.

  *

  A shaft of light lit the morning to my eyes. It came between the blinds. It took a few moments to realize where I was. This was when I longed desperately to be in my own place. My own bed, my own bath, my own towel… my body was never going to be right for James. The pain of what had happened to his children could never be eased. No ordinary woman could ever make it feel right. It was a losing battle. And Jordan Lacey had lost before even the first shot was fired.

  The air was laden with a pale sea mist rolling up the valley to the tower. I could hardly see out of the door. My jeans had dried stiff. This was instant replay. Hadn’t I done all this before?

  No instructions to stay put this time. I could go whenever I wanted to and I wanted to leave right now. I tidied the duvet, the pillows, cleaned the bath, folded the towel, washed up the mug. You could hardly see I had been there.

  I knew my way round the countryside now. I walked briskly down the hill and into Findon, waited at a bus stop and eventually a single-decker Stagecoach came along. The fare into Latching was more than I had on me. I searched my pockets in a panic. A nice woman offered to pay the difference and declined to give me her name for repayment.

  “Do the same for someone else one day,” she said. “Keep the good-turn ball rolling.”

  I could feel myself itching to do a good turn already. It was extremely catching.

  “Thank you.” I said. “I have to get home.”

  “I could sense the desperation,” she said with a smile, standing up to get off at the next stop.

  Latching looked the same, such a small but thriving seaside town, all that wild sea and remote beach, the elegant Georgian architecture, the same municipal eyesores. Nothing had changed while I’d been away. It felt like years, yet had only been hours. Perhaps it was me that had changed.

  There was a message on my answerphone. I didn’t recognize the name… Annie. Annie who? When had I, in the last century, met an Annie? She sounded disturbed. She wanted to see me but wouldn’t say what it was about, only that it was urgent. She said she would be waiting at the Nico cafe at eleven a.m. Cafe Nico was an “in” coffee place.

  “Please, please be there. Miss Lacey. I must see you.”

  So much for a quiet morning, laying low and recharging. A surge of adrenaline rushed through my veins. Things were moving. This had to be something. I flipped through my notes and files. No Annie anywhere. Who was she? I might be walking into a trap. If I was, then at least I would have clean undies.

  My clothes were filthy. I threw them into a bowl of hot suds and swirled them around. Shopping list: washing machine, spin dryer, even a new washing-up bowl would do. I’d settle for anything.

  I put on clean indigo jeans, black T-shirt and dark-blue fleece. Boots. My trainers were ruined. Shopping list: oh, to heck with shopping lists.

  For insurance, I went into Doris’s shop to tell her where I was going. At the same time, I picked up some groceries, fruit and veg. My cupboard was bare.

  “What’s all this about?” said Doris suspiciously. “You don’t usually give me your itinerary. Is this a new leaf turning? Are we bonding? Or are you scared of something? This is not like you, Jordan. And where have you been lately? I haven’t seen you for ages.”

  “It was in case. I’ve been around.”

  “In case of what?”

  “In case I don’t come back.”

  Doris counted out my change. “Can I have first refusal for your car? I could learn to drive.”

  *

  Annie was already seated inside Nico’s, perched on one of the brown leather sofas. She looked ill at ease, biting her nails. I knew who she was now. She was the plump Annie Rudge, Arnie’s wife, the woman with a brood of noisy children and several dogs. hens. Dick Mann’s next-door neighbor.

  She looked up with a quick nervous smile. I think she was pleased to see me.

  “Hello.” I said cheerfully. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Yes please. Miss Lacey. Milk, two sugars.”

  I went to the counter and ordered coffee for Annie and a hot chocolate for myself, cream extra. I required building up. Carrying the brimming cups back to the table was a tricky business. We moved to another sofa for privacy.

  “That’s lovely,” she said, trying to tear open the sugar sachets with shaking fingers. She spilled the granules over the table. “I’m so glad you’ve come.”

  “It’s nice to see you again,” I said. “Who’s looking after the children?”

  “Arnie’s at home. He’s got a streaming cold. All that fishing off the pier. Caught a chill. He’s taken some sick leave.”

  “Best not to spread the germs,” I agreed. “And how are all your children?”

  “Growing fast. Noisy. Demanding. And far too many of them,” she said, with a shrug. “Don’t tell me about family planning. Arnie’s never heard of it.”

  Surely, everyone these days knew how to limit the size of their families? Maybe Annie and Arnie wanted lots of children. I liked children. Not much possibility of me having any of my own. This was not something I wanted to dwell on.

  We talked children and dogs for a few minutes. Annie was calming down now, with the coffee and the comfort of Nico’s sofa. She was enjoying some peace and quiet, time to herself. I guessed she did not get much of either. She put down her coffee.

  “I expect you’re wondering why I asked to see you,” she said. Any minute she was going to start biting her nails again. I nodded. “I was wondering.”

  “It’s about Dick Mann.”

  “Your neighbor.”

  “Yes. He was a very nice man. Quiet and reserved, of course, a bit lonely. But I liked him.”

  I was beginning to see a glimmer of light, but she wouldn’t look at me. “And did Dick Mann like you?”

  “Oh yes. He often came in for a cup of tea and a slice of fruit cake. You see, he was lonely and my house is noisy and chaotic. Not something he’d like all the time, you understand, but it made a change. Kids and dogs everywhere.”

  “Very understandable. You were kind to him.”

  “No problem. It was easy to be kind. Arnie and Dick were fishing mates after all. It was normal for him to pop in now and again. The kids liked seeing him. And so did I.”

  “Of course, it was so ordinary, so natural. A nice, noisy family next door and he was lonely,” I said.

  I was trying to make i
t easy for her. She smiled at me. Annie was not a great beauty but her face was genuinely kind, even if her long blonde hair was wild and untamed. Or maybe that was a look that attracted these days. Perhaps it appealed to Dick Mann.

  “So you were seeing quite a lot of him…” I went on.

  “Oh yes, quite a lot.”

  “And he liked you.”

  This was when the shutters came down. She looked closely at her coffee as if reading the grains. She smoothed the knee of her size twenty navy polyster trouser suit. I had to get her back on track.

  “But you wanted to see me about something,” I said.

  “It was nothing to do with me, you understand,” Annie said, searching for the right words. “It was Dick. I’d done nothing to encourage him but he seemed to take everything so personal. It were queer really. Him being so quiet for months and then suddenly getting all het up and demanding.”

  “It’s the quiet ones,” I said. “They’re quite unpredictable.”

  “That’s it,” she said with sudden vigor. “I didn’t know he was going to come barging in with declarations of needing me and us being an item and pleading with me to leave Arnie. Leave Arnie and all my kids? They were my kids. He must have been loco. And I told him so. He didn’t like it, of course, went off with a face like bloody thunder. I was quite upset, I can tell you.”

  “Naturally,” I said. “I can imagine. What a thing to suggest. What happened next?”

  “He came back in minutes and said we were meant for each other and that he didn’t know what he would do if I didn’t go away with him. And he meant it. It was sort of threatening. That’s blackmail, isn’t it?”

  I nodded. “Sort of. Emotional blackmail.”

  “Well, I wasn’t having any of that and anyway my youngest was coming down with a cold. I told Dick to be sensible and go home and cool off. It was none of my business. I’d got enough on my hands. I couldn’t cope with all that stuff.”

  Annie was really upset now, sniffing and gulping. I gave her a tissue and went for more coffee. I got her a chocolate muffin as well. Muffins were known to work wonders.

  “And that’s not all,” she went on, breaking up the muffin till the plate was full of brown crumbs. “Then there was some man came knocking at my door real loud, asking for Dick, looking for Dick, quite soon after he’d left. I told him I didn’t know anything. I didn’t like the look of him. He wasn’t very nice. I’m sure he wasn’t one of Dick’s friends, although he insisted he was.”

  “Can you describe this man?”

  “I dunno if I can. He was soil of thin and nasty-looking. I didn’t like him. Sort of shifty.”

  “Do you remember any details about him? Anything odd.”

  “Not really. Nothing much. He smoked a lot and he had a couple of comic books. He was reading them while I cleaned up one of my youngsters. He’d pulled down a packet of flour on top of hisself.”

  “The man?”

  “No, Toby, one of my kids. Proper mess it was.”

  “Why did this man want to see Dick Mann?”

  “I don’t know, Miss Lacey. He said it was urgent. But he wasn’t the kind of friend Dick would have. He looked sort of devious. I bolted the door after he’d gone. I wasn’t taking no chances.”

  “Very wise.” I said. “You can’t be too careful these days. What happened after that?”

  “Well, it was Dick again. He phoned me up. He said he was going to kill himself if I didn’t go away with him. I was really fed up by now and told him so. The next thing I hear, he’d hung himself in the church tower. It wasn’t my fault, was it. Miss Lacey? Please tell me it’s not my fault.” Annie was genuinely upset.

  “No, not your fault, Annie, I can assure you. His death was a horrible accident. There are sometimes bell-ringing accidents. Those great bells, each weighing several hundredweight. He probably slipped. That’s what really happened. All his threats were only trying to make you change your mind, so please don’t worry about it. I think I should give you this, Annie. I know Dick Mann got it for you as a present. It shows how much he cared for you, doesn’t it?”

  I gave her the gold brooch with the initial “A”. A flash of light caught on a fragment of glass embedded in the crossbar of the letter “A”. I hadn’t noticed it before.

  “Did he? Why, it’s lovely.” Annie smiled at me and took the brooch, turning it over with a sort of wonder. “How kind of him. I’ve never had a brooch with my initial. He was a nice man. I shall always wear it.”

  It might help to make her feel better.

  Nineteen

  Arnie was down on the pier, fishing. I did not enquire who was taking care of the kids. Perhaps he had cleared off as soon as Annie got home. There was a dampness in the air and he was done up to the gills with his waterproofs.

  “Hello, Arnie,” I said. “I thought you were off sick?”

  “I decided a bit of fresh air would get rid of the germs. Got catarrh something rotten. Clogs you up.”

  “You’re probably right,” I said. “I’m still interested in Dick Mann’s death. His garage is overflowing with fishing rods, all sorts and sizes. Have you any ideas about them?”

  “Yeah, sure. I know all about them rods. Some of them are mine. He let me store them there. We ain’t got no space at home with all the kids.”

  “And what about the others? There seems an awful lot of rods for one angler.”

  “So what? None of my business.”

  “But you wanted me to find out who was taking the rods.” I did not remind him that no one had paid me yet. Perhaps the invoice I’d sent him had not made any sense. Memo: present another copy.

  “Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter much now, does it?” He cast his line far out to sea. It sank immediately into the gray-green depths. The sea was surging, turbulent with fish, not knowing they were destined for a plate.

  “So you knew all along that it was Dick Mann who was taking the rods off the pier?”

  Arnie was chewing gum. He was surprised at my statement and for a moment forgot he had a mouthful and swallowed the gum. He nodded awkwardly, coughing, trying to dislodge the gum from the back of his throat. I hoped I wasn’t going to have to do mouth to mouth resuscitation. There was a horrible, gagging sound and the blob of gum flew into the air and over the rail.

  “Yes, I knew Dick was taking them,” said Arnie when he had recovered. He opened a packet and started chewing mints. “But I couldn’t say anything, could I? He was my mate. So that’s why I got you on the case. I thought perhaps you would say something to him, or at least frighten him off. It didn’t make sense. I didn’t know he was going to kill himself, did I?”

  “Have you any idea why he did it?”

  “I guess he was upset about summink. Perhaps it was the rods. Perhaps he knew he’d been found out.”

  “A rather drastic reaction, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, I suppose so. A bit over the top.”

  “I wonder if you could tell me what you were doing the evening that Dick Mann was found dead?”

  I had no right to ask him. I was not a police officer any more. But he might not know the difference. It seemed important now to find out if Arnie had been around at the time. He was a big man. He could have been mad with jealousy at Dick’s interest in his buxom wife.

  “Me?” He looked surprised. “I went home after work and had me dinner. Shepherd’s pie and chips. Annie does a good shepherd’s pie. Proper gravy and lamb and carrots.”

  “Did you go out at all?”

  “I went down to the pub after me dinner like I always do. Nothing unusual in that.”

  “Which pub?”

  “My usual.”

  This was like getting blood out of concrete. “And there are people in the pub who will be able to corroborate that? You know, confirm that you were there.”

  “Of course, because I was there, wasn’t I? I always go there. It’s my usual pub. I need a pint or two most nights. Lubricate the gullet. Doesn’t every man?”
>
  “That’s something I’ve no real knowledge about. But I do need to know where you were. You see, Dick Mann’s death may not be as simple as we first thought. Has Annie told you anything? Anything at all unusual?”

  “No, why should she? Has she got anything to tell me? What are you getting at?”

  He was reeling in his line in a demented fashion. I’d said something which upset him. The bait flapped on the hook. There was nothing but a spill of seaweed.

  “Look, I’ve had enough here. There ain’t no fish running. I’m off home. My cold’s getting worse.”

  Arnie sniffed and spluttered, blew his nose, was ruffled. He was scowling, not as amiable as usual, packing up his rod with short, abrupt movements. This was a different side of the big fella. He didn’t like my line of questioning. Perhaps he had not been at the pub, like he always was, after his dinner. I hoped Annie was not going to be caught up in this aftermath.

  “So you don’t know anything more about Dick Mann’s death?”

  “No. I don’t. Why should I? I wasn’t there in that church tower. I don’t know nothing what happened to Dick. Nor do you. Miss Nosy-Parker Lacey. You’re guessing about all this stuff. My Annie weren’t going off with him nor nothing. She lives with me and the kids, always has, like always will.”

  Arnie was steaming, nostrils blowing like an old bull. His eyes were swivelling, not looking at me.

  “I didn’t say anything about Annie going off with Dick Mann. What made you say that? Did you think she was going to go off with him?” I shouldn’t have asked but I couldn’t stop myself.

  But Arnie Rudge was striding along the pier, feet turned out like a copper, rods over his shoulder in a zipped-up bag. He did not look back. There was no point in going after the man. I wouldn’t get any more out of him, but he sure was rattled.

  “No, I didn’t. I didn’t think anything!” he shouted back. “Leave me alone.”

  Ah.

 

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