by Lesley Kelly
Michael Mouse
Minnie Mouse
D. Duck
I flipped back to the first page and saw that the original pages had been cut out, and that someone, no doubt a priest of my acquaintance, had taken the precaution of removing the real contents. I opened the minibar and drank a toast to suspicious clergy, and their lack of faith in man.
I headed out into town and looked for a busy bar. I made eye contact with a woman standing at the bar. She looked away, and then looked back and held my gaze. She’ll do, I thought.
I fought my way through the crowd to her, and put a wad of notes on the bar. ‘What are we drinking?’
Sunday
I manage to get Wheezy to hold back for a minute or two when we get to Mavisview, so I can work out what’s going on. There’s only one car at the house – a red Golf that I assume belongs to Miss Spencely. I’m still convinced that we’re walking straight into some sort of trap set up by Bruce.
‘Wheeze – this doesn’t feel right to me. I mean, why is Miss Spencely at Mavisview anyway? She can’t be there for work reasons.’
Wheezy ignores me and pushes open the iron gate. I try again.
‘Don’t you think we should phone the Polis before we go in there? Tell them there’s a body?’
He turns on me. ‘And what if she isn’t dead and we’re just drawing her to the Polis’ attention? You can do what you like – I’m going in.’
I’m not used to this side to Wheezy. He’s striding toward the house, and I find myself following him.
The door isn’t locked so we push it open and go in. It’s the first time I’ve been inside the house. It’s impressive. Facing us is a massive staircase which must have been magnificent in its day, but is now looking a bit the worse for wear. They left the curtains up when Agnes moved out, and on the landing there are these huge velvet affairs that reach from the ceiling to the floor.
‘Miss Spencely?’
There’s no answer and I get a really bad feeling about all this. I’m about to say as much to Wheezy when I hear the sound of a gun being cocked. Wheeze cluches my arm and we turn round with him still hanging on to me. Bruce is standing there. I’m pretty sure he isn’t holding a water pistol.
‘Up the stairs and turn to your left gentlemen. Quick as you like.’
Bruce gestures up the stairs with the gun, like he’s Humphrey bloody Bogart, but we aren’t really in a position to argue. I take the stairs two at a time cursing my own stupidity. Wheezy’s struggling along behind me, pulling himself up by the banister.
As instructed we turn to the left and into a room with two occupants – Miss Spencely and Meikle.
Meikle looks at me and bursts out laughing.
‘This is yer man? This is the Staines that I’ve been worrying about? The little bollox that I found sniffing round my office last night?’ He looks over my shoulder at Bruce. ‘I’ll say this for you Bruce – your powers of description aren’t up to much. He’s not what I was expecting at all.’
‘Where’s Marianne?’ Wheezy shouts.
‘Calm down, old yin,’ says Bruce, still waving the gun about like he’s in a film.
‘She’s safe,’ Miss Spencely says quietly. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Wheezy turns on her. ‘Where is she?’
Bruce laughs. ‘Last time I saw her she was getting out of my car somewhere round about the English border. Long walk home with no money. Has she got a thing for you, Staines? All I had to say was you were in trouble and she was out that flat and in my car quick as you like.’
Wheezy pipes up. ‘My Marianne’ll have gone straight to the Polis.’
Bruce laughs. ‘No, she won’t. I can be very persuasive on that particular issue – isn’t that right, Charlotte?’ Miss Spencely throws Bruce a look of such contempt that I feel the leather in my shoes wilting. Unfortunately, it seems to have no effect at all on Bruce.
‘And I don’t think your Marianne will be going anywhere near the Police,’ Meikle says. ‘After the right hook she gave Isa Stoddart I thought she’d saved me a job.’
‘So it was you that did Isa in?’ Wheezy just can’t help himself.
Meikle laughs. ‘Did you really think that slip of a girl finished off Isa? If she was that damn fragile she’d have been done in years ago. Do you want to know why I did it, grandpa?’
Say it’s none of our business, Wheeze, and we might just get out of here alive.
‘Aye, I do want to know.’
Meikle smiles. ‘I did it because she wouldn’t listen. I didn’t come over here to make trouble. And, you know, Isa was pleased to see me when she came round after the punch your daughter…’
‘Niece.’
‘Whatever, had given her. I was there like an angel out of the blue, helping her into my car, taking her for a drive to calm her nerves. She couldn’t believe her luck at seeing a friendly face in her hour of need.’
Wheezy snorts.
Shut up, Wheeze, please.
‘OK then, boys.’ He looks as us both, as if we are on some kind of quiz show. ‘What happened next? Come on, Mr Staines, you haven’t had much to say for yourself. Take a guess.’
I really don’t want to go down this route, but there doesn’t appear to be a choice. ‘Well, I’m guessing you suggested to her, in a calm and reasonable manner, that she might like to cut you in on some of her business deals, what with all the sterling work you were doing with Guthrie out in Spain.’
He gives me a mock round of applause. ‘Calm and reasonable is exactly what I was, Mr Staines. Well done. And what do you think she said?’
Seeing as she’s now pushing up daisies I’ll take a wild guess that she didn’t say, ‘Smashing idea, Meikle’.
‘She said no.’
Meikle smiles. ‘She did indeed. Giving me all this shite about how the business was hers and Guthrie’s and how I’d been lucky to be working for them all this time. And there’s Guthrie lying in hospital not even able to wipe his own arse and I’m having to run everything.’
Wheezy chips in. ‘Aye, and she isn’t even sending you the twenty grand a month anymore.’
Fortunately, Meikle’s getting himself too worked up to listen to what Wheezy’s saying.
‘She said she’s doing all this for that idiot son of hers so that when she dies he’s got a nice little property empire that even he can’t mess up. And I say to her again, “cut me in, Mrs Stoddart, I can look after the business on Lachie’s behalf,” but she won’t listen.’
Wheezy is unstoppable. ‘So, you battered her head in?’
Meikle grabs Wheezy by the throat and I can’t help but feel that it serves the gobby bastard right. ‘I wouldn’t quite put it like that.’
Wheezy’s still going on. The man’s got a death wish.
‘Is that any way to treat your own mother?’
‘My mother?’ Meikle lets go of Wheezy in surprise. ‘My mother’s very well looked after in a nursing home in Roscommon. What’s she got to do with anything?’
‘Can I go now?’ Miss Spencely says abruptly.
Everybody turns to look at her; I think we’d forgotten she was still here.
Bruce laughs. ‘Aye, sure, sweetheart – unless you want to stay and chat to these nice gentlemen?’
Miss Spencely leaves without a backward glance. I’m guessing that’s one romance that isn’t going anywhere.
Meikle looks at Bruce. ‘Are you sure she isn’t going to do anything daft, like call the Police?’
‘It’s fine – she’s under control. She knows I know where her family live.’ He looks irritated at the question and I think that maybe this isn’t a perfect working arrangement. Bruce is kidding himself if he thinks they’re partners. This is Meikle’s show, and Bruce has never been anything other than sidekick material.
‘Gentlemen,’ says Meikle gesturing to a couple of wooden chairs. ‘Please take a seat. There are a few questions we would like to ask you.’ He reaches into his bag and pulls out a length of rope. Good to see that h
e’s come prepared. He must have been a boy scout. ‘It could take a while so you might want to get comfortable.’
‘I don’t actually know anything about Staines’ affairs, so I don’t think I can really help you gents. Can I go?’
Now that Marianne’s accounted for safe and well, normal service seems to have been resumed on the Wheezy-front. Meikle isn’t having any of it though, and he gestures him toward the chairs.
‘Sit.’
We sit on the chairs and Bruce ties our hands behind our backs. I’m sweating and I can feel the scar on my face ache.
‘Now, Mr Staines, do you realise that I flew in from Malaga as soon as Bruce told me you were in town?’ Meikle perches on the side of the table. ‘Thanks, Bruce. It was very inconvenient seeing as I had just got back there after completing a bit of business over here. But then as you lads seem to know everything, you probably already knew that.’
I close my eyes and wait for Wheezy to dig us in even deeper, but for once he keeps his mouth shut.
Meikle points at his sidekick. ‘Clever laddie is our Bruce.’
I look at Bruce and he winks at me.
‘Not only is he Isa’s right-hand man, he’s also got a great taste in women. Wouldn’t you say so, lads?’
I’m not sure where this is going, but I grunt in what I hope is a positive manner.
Meikle carries on. ‘That Charlotte – what a looker!’ Bruce is smiling away to himself, as smug as the cat that got the cream. ‘But not just a looker, brains as well. Not smart enough to realise that Bruce was after more than getting his end away, but knows her legal stuff.’
He looks at me like he’s expecting me to comment. I do my best. ‘Eh – is that right?’
‘Oh aye.’ Meikle nods vigorously. ‘Very good at coming up with solutions to hypothetical legal problems, like say, somebody being overlooked in a will.’
I’m beginning to see where this is going.
‘Now, gents,’ Meikle rearranges his bum cheeks on the table. ‘Have either of you brains every heard of something called a Deed of Variation?’
‘Aye.’ Wheezy pipes up. That man’s urge to show off his knowledge can’t be repressed even when he’s worrying about getting killed. ‘It’s when the beneficiaries of a will agree to change who gets the money.’
Meikle looks surprised and bursts out laughing. ‘Give the man a gold star. Exactly right. It’s when a person renounces their legal right to benefit from an inheritance. Are you following me so far, Staines?’
Unfortunately, I am. ‘Just about.’
‘Good. I was worried I was using too many big words for you. Now Bruce here has young Charlotte draft him up a Deed of Variation, leaving out a few specifics to be filled in at a later date, like your name for example. Can you see where I’m going with this, Staines?’
I sigh. ‘You want me to sign over all my rights to Lachie’s inheritance and then get out of town, I’m guessing?’
‘Well, you’re right about the first part anyway.’
And it hits me that I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to sign his papers then Wheezy and I are going to end up part of the foundations of the Mavisview development. All in all, I wish Liam had shot me with a real gun and maybe at least then my bairns would have inherited the money.
We hear the sound of a Polis siren in the distance. Bruce looks out the window.
‘That bitch.’
‘I thought you said you had her under control?’ Meikle moves toward me with the knife and for a minute I think he’s going to finish me off, but instead he leans forward and cuts the rope round my hands, then leans over and does the same to Wheezy. ‘Let’s get the two of them out of here before the Police come in.’
They haul us back down the stairs. We pass the door where we came in and I assume that we’re heading for the basement but we stop at the next landing, and Meikle starts patting one of the bits of wood panelling. A section of it swings out like a door. A smuggler’s hole.
‘No nonsense out of you two,’ Meikle waves the knife at us, and Bruce pulls the panel back to reveal a door.
‘Right – in there.’
Wheezy backs away. ‘Not me, son – I’m claustrophobic.’
‘Tough.’ Meikle shoves Wheezy head first into the darkness and pushes me in after him.
As the door closes behind us, the darkness is complete. The room is so narrow I can’t straighten my arm in front of me.
‘Jesus – this isn’t doing me any good.’ Wheezy clutches at my arm. ‘I need my inhaler.’
‘Calm down, Wheeze. Just keep taking deep breaths.’ Even as I’m saying that I start worrying that the air in here might not be too fresh. ‘They haven’t taken my phone off me – if we can get a signal we can tell the Polis that we’re in here.’
He elbows me in the ribs. ‘Give it a go, then.’
I flip open my phone but I can see right away I can’t get reception.
‘It isn’t working Wheeze.’
‘Try sending one of they message things.’
‘A text message? Who to? The Samaritans?’
He digs me in the ribs again. ‘Text message 999.’
‘Can you do that?’ I’m suddenly hopeful.
There’s a brief pause. ‘I don’t know, but you’d think so.’
‘I’ve got a better idea.’ I scroll through my address book to see if I’ve still got Danny Jamieson’s number. ‘I’ll text Danny.’
I type as fast as I can.
‘What are you saying to him?’
I read it out. ‘Held prisoner in Mavisview. Need help. Not a joke.’
Wheezy snorts. ‘That won’t get him to shift his arse. Tell him you pumped his wife and he’ll be here in record time.’
We sit in silence for a few minutes.
‘Remember what that man said about suffocating in these places, Staines?’
‘That won’t happen to us.’ I laugh bitterly. ‘We’ll survive our stay in here and Meikle will kill us later. And you know what, Wheezy? I think I’m prepared for it.’
He shifts around, trying to get comfortable. ‘What do you mean prepared for it? You want to die?’
‘No, of course I don’t want to die, I’m just saying if it happens I’m prepared for it.’
He snorts. ‘Bollocks.’
I’m getting annoyed that he doesn’t believe me. ‘No, I mean it. If we’re going to die today then so be it. It isn’t like anyone is going to miss me.’
There’s a long silence before he says, ‘That isn’t true.’
‘Who’s going to miss me – the ex-wife who hates my guts? The bairns I haven’t seen for years? The lads at Shugs? I’ve even pissed off my parish priest and they are supposed to care about everybody.’
Wheezy sighs. ‘Much as it pains me to say it, I think my Marianne might miss you. Anyhow, you can sit here and wallow in self-pity but I’m getting out.’ He leans past me and bangs on the inside of the door. ‘Hoi, Polis! We’re in here!’
‘That won’t work. The door’s soundproofed.’
‘You think of something then.’ He sounds irritated. ‘I’m not ready to die. I’m planning to rage against the dying of the light for some time yet.’
‘Except there isn’t any light in here.’ As soon as I say it I notice something. ‘Actually, Wheeze, I can see light in that corner there.’
‘Where?’
I point, pointlessly given the darkness. ‘Down at floor level – there’s a wee bit of light coming under that wall. Move down the room, Wheeze – see if you come to an opening.’
I feel him tense up. ‘Oh no – I’m not going any further into this place.’
‘Well, move out of the way then – I’m going to have a look.’
Getting past Wheezy just about kills the pair of us. He has to squat on the floor while I climb over him. I’m right – there is light coming into the chamber. I edge my way forward and hit a wall. At least I think it’s a wall, but there still seems to be air coming from the edges of it.
&n
bsp; ‘Have you found anything?’
‘I think it’s a false wall, Wheeze.’
‘Well get a move on – the Polis won’t detain those two for ever.’
I run my hands along the edge of the wall and there’s definitely a gap where the air is coming through.
‘Is there a handle or anything?’
‘Shut up, Wheezy.’
‘I’m just saying – we’ve not got long.’
I start at the top of the wall and slowly move down. Nothing gives way. I crouch down and try to get my hand under the base of the wall. It crumbles slightly at my touch but my hand brushes against metal.
‘I’ve found something!’
I pull at the lever but nothing happens.
‘What’s happening?’
‘I don’t know Wheeze – I think the mechanism’s rusted.’
‘Try it again.’ He sounds excited.
I pull again and I feel it give, just slightly. I pull again with as much force as I can muster and the wall shakes slightly. I push my shoulder against it and it moves an inch.
‘It’s moving Wheeze!’
‘Push harder!’
I put the whole of my weight against the wall and the wall swings round on a hinge, like a door.
‘What can you see?’
The room seems slightly less dark but it takes me a minute to realise why. There is light shining through the floor.
‘There’s a trapdoor Wheeze.’
I feel around and find a latch. I pull back the trapdoor and I can see earth about three foot away.
‘I think we can get out this way.’
‘Right behind you.’
I crouch down and look at where the daylight is coming from. There’s a wrought iron vent and through that I can see the garden. I give the vent a shove but it’s solidly in place. I’m cursing. Meikle and Bruce will surely have got rid of the Polis by now and be on their way to find us. I take a deep breath and start feeling my way round the edges of the vent, and sure enough, as before there is a lever. It’s stiff but it creaks into life. I give the vent a shove.
