The Man in Two Bodies (British crime novel): A Dark Science Crime Caper

by Stanley Salmons

  Mr. Meredrew was relieved of his duties at the bank a week ago pending the outcome of criminal proceedings on charges of embezzlement. He had been released on bail.

  It is alleged that Mr. Meredrew took advantage of the recent spate of thefts from bank counters in London to stage a similar occurrence at his own bank. The money, still in a sealed envelope, was recovered from his home. Mr. Meredrew has always protested that he did not know how it got there, but was unable to account for the absence of any signs of a break-in, either at the bank or at his home.

  A spokesman for the bank said: “This is a tragic turn of events. Mr. Meredrew was a long-standing employee of the Bank and an extremely conscientious manager. The behaviour of which he was accused was totally out of character. Staff at his branch have confirmed that Mr. Meredrew had been showing evidence of stress over the last few weeks. Our sincere sympathies go out to his family.”

  Mr. Meredrew leaves a wife and teenage daughter.

  “I feel just awful,” said Suzy, sitting down heavily. “I mean, I didn’t like the man one little bit and I was really glad he was suspended, but suicide! It’s such a dreadful thing to happen. And he had a family.”

  Mike and I murmured our agreement. In actual fact I could have whooped for joy. It had come out even better than I hoped. I hadn’t expected him to go that far, but I had no more regrets than if I’d crushed a particularly repulsive insect under my foot. I guess Mike didn’t sound too convincing either. Suzy glared at us.

  “How could you do such a thing?” she demanded.

  Her big brown eyes had gone very liquid and it looked to me like she was going to cry. Mike had obviously picked up the warning signs too.

  “Come on, be fair, Suzy,” he said. “All we did was play a trick on him. We couldn’t have known he was going to top himself now, could we?”

  She blinked rapidly. He put an arm round her shoulders, a gesture that made me bristle a bit, but I kept quiet.

  “Come on,” he said. “We can’t do anything about it, can we? It’s not going to help to get all upset. Try and put it out of your mind. Look, I was going to cook something good tonight. Please don’t spoil it.”

  She pouted. “Maybe I can help. What were you going to make?”

  Her voice was shaky. I thought the tears still weren’t all that far away. However, Mike seemed to be in a buoyant mood.

  “I’m-a maka for you the e-special dinner,” he said in a cod Italian accent. “I cook-a for you the Spaghetti a la Frutti di Mare—mwuh!”

  He held his finger and thumb together and kissed them in an extravagant gesture. I’d never seen him in such high spirits. Suzy was trying to smother a little smile, but Mike was prancing about, planting a bottle of Chianti Classico Riserva on the table and extolling its virtues in that same excruciating accent. Then he whirled an apron around his head before putting it on with a flourish. I had to laugh myself. Suzy was soon drawn in and started to help Mike with the cooking.

  “Can I do anything?” I was feeling a bit useless.

  “Yes,” Mike said. “You open the wine, Rodge. Pour a glass for the three of us. We can have it as an aperitif. And while you’re about it put some in this cup; I’ll use it in the cooking. And then if you could lay the table that would be a help. Spoons and forks. And don’t forget water. Suzy likes a glass of water.”

  I have to say the dinner was fantastic. Mike knew that Suzy wasn’t all that keen on shellfish, so he’d used a mixture of other fish and put in generous amounts of oregano and red wine. To top it off he tore up a few leaves of fresh basil. It tasted every bit as good as it looked. The Chianti was a cracker too; it went down like velvet.

  Throughout the meal Mike kept us entertained. When it came to dessert time he smacked his forehead in mock anguish and exclaimed:

  “I’m-a nearly forgot-a the gelato!”

  He dived into the fridge and a few moments later served up vanilla ice-cream with a chocolate sauce, sprinkled with chopped roasted almonds. His energy seemed limitless. When he served the coffees and sat down I think both Suzy and I were expecting the entertainment to continue. Instead there was a sudden change of mood. In his normal, matter-of-fact voice he said:

  “Now, boys and girls. Who would like to be seriously rich?”

  SUSAN

  30

  Mike was so funny when he was doing the Italian restaurateur act. I know Mummy and Daddy would have liked him. It’s true he was a bit rudderless, career-wise. But he was bright—even if he did try to play the ordinary Essex boy—and he had a good degree and work experience. Mummy would probably have said, “All he needs, dear, is a good woman behind him. You mark my words, he’ll make a good husband and father.” Only I didn’t want a husband and father. Not yet.

  Not that Mummy and Daddy were at all anxious to see me married. If anything they’d have been happier if I was still living at home, where they could keep an eye on me. It’s just as well I’m not; I think I’d have gone insane by now. I mean, I understand about Amy and everything, but it wasn’t my fault, was it? I don’t even remember what she looked like. But then, I was only five when she died. All I can remember is feeling resentful about all the attention they lavished on her. It got worse towards the end, with Amy in bed most of the time. I didn’t know what was going on and I couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t let me see her. And afterwards they wouldn’t talk about it or keep any photos around the house—I suppose the memories were just too raw for them. So I forgot what she looked like. Isn’t that awful? Your own sister!

  After Amy had “gone to Heaven”, as they put it, I was an only child and I became the focus of their lives. I was so precious to them I couldn’t sneeze without Mummy thinking it was “the start of something”. When I first started to have periods I had a bit of pain with it. Mummy promptly tucked me up in bed and insisted on a doctor coming to see me. Not a male doctor, either—she wasn’t haven’t any men lay their hands on her daughter—no, it had to be a female doctor. Of course, she diagnosed it right away and prescribed something, but that wasn’t enough for Mummy. I listened to the doctor talking to her outside my room.

  “It’s only a touch of dysmenorrhoea, Mrs. Whittingham. Nothing to worry about.”

  “You don’t understand,” Mummy was almost hissing the words. “There’s a family history…” And then she brought herself to say something, but so quietly I couldn’t hear it. “Her sister died of it! With all due respect, I think I should have a second opinion.”

  “Well, I can refer her if you like, Mrs. Whittingham, but I’ve examined her thoroughly and I can assure you she’s a perfectly healthy girl. I do understand your anxiety, but I think you’ve got to consider the effect of all that investigation on Susan. You don’t want to make an invalid of her now, do you? I tell you what. Have her take the medication I’ve prescribed. If it hasn’t improved in a few days we’ll reassess the situation. Is that all right?”

  It cleared up, of course, just like all the other near-death experiences I had. I know they meant it for my good, but heavens—what a stifling atmosphere to grow up in!

  I could hardly wait to go to university. Even then they’d come to visit me and they’d fuss over my digs, and worry about how I looked, and ask me what I was eating. And then, after I graduated, Costa Rica! That was the best! Real freedom at last, for three whole months! And of course there was Raoul. Everyone in the party must have guessed what was going on but nobody said anything. We had such a great time.

  After I got back there was no way I could settle down at home again—it just wouldn’t have worked. It wasn’t Daddy so much—he seemed all right now— but Mummy still found it hard to relinquish control of me. And then I’d have felt so trapped socially, being eyed by all the pimply young men I’d been at school with. I wanted to go somewhere that was so huge I could really get lost in it. So I enrolled for a PGCE course at a college in the East End of London. I suppose I was asking for trouble and I got it: an inner city school with every problem in the book. It was
a nightmare—I couldn’t get out fast enough. That was when I joined the Bank.

  I’m pretty much where I want to be for the moment; I’ve got a steady job and I share a flat with Siobhan. So I’ve achieved my independence. It was hard enough to get it. I’m not going to give it up so easily.

  Poor Mike. That first time he came to the Bank and asked me out for a coffee he looked like a puppy waiting at a table, hoping someone would throw him a bone. Well, it was nice to have someone to go out with, someone not too demanding, and he was good company, but I didn’t want anything more out of it than that. I told him I’d just come out of a long-term relationship and that it had hurt me badly. Actually I was being a bit economical with the truth. I’d had plenty of relationships but none of them had lasted very long and it was always me who broke them off. He was very sweet about it, though. One time he cooked a nice meal for me, with my favourite wine and everything. He really went to a lot of trouble. I should have been more grateful. The trouble was, the more he tried to please me, the more it turned me off.

  Rodger was a totally different proposition. Mike had told me a lot about him; he was obviously in awe of Rodger because he was so clever. I’d formed a mental picture of his friend: he’d be a short nerdy fellow with horn-rimmed glasses, a pasty complexion, and a lot of hair in need of a good wash and comb. And then in walks this Adonis! I mean, what a dish! Tall, blond hair curling onto his forehead, and these two creases, like long dimples, running down either side of his jaw. Mike introduced me and he said hallo in a perfunctory sort of way, and then just ignored me. After a while he went off to another room. It wasn’t often men walked away from me like that. I felt quite disappointed.

  To get him back in my orbit I suggested we went out as a threesome. I know Mike wasn’t that keen but he couldn’t very well say no. Soon we were going out together all the time. Mike didn’t like having to share me with Rodger and he’d have a fit of the sulks, and that left Rodger and me doing a lot of the talking.

  Then, one evening, Rodger put his hand on my thigh. There was nothing surreptitious about it, not the furtive fingers creeping under my skirt that some boys had tried in the cinema after the lights had gone down. He was talking about something with Mike at the time. Under the table he just brushed my skirt up and placed his hand around my thigh. It was so proprietorial, it was like we’d been married for twenty years, for God’s sake! I couldn’t believe his nerve. I clapped my legs together tightly so he couldn’t do anything more. I could feel the heat of his big hand on the inside of my thigh, and I realized I was breathing fast, through my nose. Rodger didn’t react; he just carried on his conversation with Mike, and Mike hadn’t noticed a thing. After a while I relaxed a little. You could say I was wondering what he’d do, but if I’m honest I know jolly well what I wanted him to do. He just patted me and took his hand away. All this time he never stopped talking to Mike. That was Rodger all over: he’d always do what you didn’t want, and wouldn’t do what you did want.

  When Mike was revising for his exams Rodger and I went out on our own. Siobhan, my flatmate, had gone back to her parents’ place in Ireland for a few days, so the flat was empty and I invited him back for a coffee. He didn’t wait for coffee; he just took me into the bedroom and started to undress me. I said:

  “Rodger, I don’t want this.”

  “Of course you do,” he replied, in a matter-of-fact way.

  He was right. Of course I did.

  Raoul was good, but then Raoul was my first, so I had no one to compare him with. The ones I’d had in London didn’t even register. Rodger was in another league. Raoul used his tongue; Rodger used his teeth. He could caress with his teeth, or bite. He would nip just hard enough to excite me, so I’d be hovering on the border between pain and ecstasy. In minutes I’d be burning like a furnace. Then he’d stoke me to white heat. The sensations went absolutely everywhere. Then for a few moments I’d be somewhere outside myself, sailing among the spheres of another universe. It was absolutely sublime. I couldn’t get enough of him.

  Rodger fascinated me. Not because he was physically attractive, although he was, and not because he was a superb lover, although he certainly was that. It was more the thrill of dealing with something dangerous. With Rodger you always felt on the edge, slightly out of control. I began to understand the buzz people got from keeping pets like pythons or leopards.

  One way or another I’m afraid Rodger was just about the opposite of the stable, caring relationship Mummy and Daddy would have wanted for me, and that I could have had with Mike. But as I said before, I wasn’t looking for a husband and a father; I wanted excitement. With Rodger I got it. In spades.

  31

  When I told Siobhan I was moving in with Rodger she was aghast.

  “Suzy, darlin’, are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “Yes, quite sure.”

  “You haven’t fallen in love with this feller, or anything silly like that?”

  “No, I don’t think so. It’s hard to explain. Look, I was in a rut, okay? It seemed to me that I’d already had all the excitement I was ever going to get out of life. All I could look forward to now was a boring marriage to a boring man, living in a boring house, bringing up two or three children, and maybe going back to a boring job at the bank.”

  “And what’s so bad about that? Most people I know would settle for that. My old grandmother used to say if you had a man who didn’t beat the bejezus out of you every Saturday night you could thank your stars.”

  “That was two generations ago, Siobhan. Things have changed, you know that. Women want more out of life now. I certainly do. I just knew something was missing but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. Then Rodger walked in. He’s the most exciting person I’ve ever met; it makes my blood race just to be in the same room with him. It may not last—it probably won’t—but if I let this go now I think I’ll always be looking back and wondering what might have happened.”

  Siobhan shook her head dubiously. I knew she was genuinely concerned for me. I put my hand on her arm.

  “Please don’t worry,” I said. “I’m not burning my bridges. I’ll keep most of my stuff here and I’ll carry on sharing the rent with you. I don’t think Rodger is the type who wants a stable relationship, so sooner or later it will all be over and when that happens I’ll come back. In the meantime, look at the upside: you’ll have this whole place to yourself. You don’t mind being on your own for a bit, do you?”

  “No, that part of it doesn’t bother me at all.”

  “And you’ll have complete freedom—you’ll be able to entertain boyfriends here and you’ll never have to worry about what time I’m going to get home!”

  Siobhan blushed. She’s unlucky in that respect. Like some other redheads I’ve known, she has a creamy complexion and freckles and any emotion is immediately written all over her face. Right now her cheeks were crimson. Whereas I’m quite happy to succumb to my natural drives Siobhan always seems to be guilt-ridden about hers. It must be the result of her strict Catholic upbringing. I knew she’d had men in the flat but it was something we didn’t talk about normally. We respected each other’s privacy—that’s why we got on so well. I hadn’t meant to embarrass her. I was very fond of her.

  She ran her tongue round her lips. “What about the other feller—Mike?” she asked.

  “Yes, it’s a shame Mike found out, but I guess it was only a matter of time. I know he was very hurt. I tried to let him down lightly but the damage was done.”

  “It’s his flat, isn’t it? What’s he got to say about it?”

  “He was very good about it. I mean, he’s agreed to let me come and live with them and that can’t have been easy for him.”

  “I don’t know why he’d even contemplate such an arrangement. He should have chucked the pair of you out. He must be a real wimp.”

  “No, he’s not! It happened rather suddenly, that’s all, and it’s left him feeling a bit helpless. I don’t think he has much experienc
e in dealing with people, least of all women. He’s a really nice steady guy, though. You’d like him. Hey—maybe I should introduce you!”

  “Thanks, but no thanks.” She fixed me with her greeny-blue eyes. “You know what I’m thinking?”

  “No, what?”

  “I’m thinking he probably knows as well as you do that this Rodger thing isn’t going to last. And when it all comes crashing down, he’ll be around to pick up the pieces.”

  *

  All the time I was staying at Mike’s flat I had the feeling that they were up to something. I don’t know what it was: an exchange of glances, a subdued conversation—I knew it wasn’t just their research. To start with I thought it had something to do with me, but that didn’t make any sense, so I put it down to my imagination.

  I should have realized there was more to it when the bank’s security people found all that money at Mr. Meredrew’s house. I’ve got to admit I detested the man but I never wanted him dead. I knew I was involved in some way and I was feeling dreadfully guilty. What made it even worse was that he had a daughter in her teens. That set me imagining how I’d feel if Daddy committed suicide. Of course, she may not have been very fond of her father—it was hard to think of any youngster having feelings for someone as obsessional and demanding as Meredrew—but somehow that didn’t make it any better. Mike took my mind off it with his play-acting. And, with or without the entertainment, it was a terrific dinner he put together that night. We finished up with ice-cream and I made some coffee.

  Then all of a sudden everything changed. Mike was back to his normal self and saying, apparently in deadly earnest, “Now boys and girls. Who would like to be seriously rich?”

  Rodger and I stared at him blankly.

  He turned to me. “Suzy, how long till Lynsey gets her job back?”

  “I… I hadn’t thought…”