Becky’s eyebrows arched and she breathed in through her teeth. ‘I should have, shouldn’t I? However we’ve been caring for Sally all of our adult lives. When our father died, a lump sum was placed in Sally’s name in an account here. We presumed she knew it was her nest egg for after Mum dies. The care she would need would be expensive. That’s why I am surprised she is using it.’
‘Well I suppose this comes under discretionary powers. I don’t like using them but I think common sense prevails and is stacked in Sally’s favour..... her best interests, you realise.’
Nigel Lees switched on his computer and logged in. It took seconds to enter unlike Becky’s home computer. Sally’s account was opened.
‘Her first account is her main, functional account. Her standing orders, direct debits and occasional expenditure usually come from this. Fairly low amounts and mainly monthly expected transactions as you can see. She keeps in the black. Her shares income and her benefits are both linked into this account. There, look at the list,’ he said turning the screen towards Becky.
She scanned her eyes down her transactions. ‘Nothing untoward there. She keeps it well in credit. That’s reassuring.’
Both felt all was in order. Then they laughed with embarrassment at the poor bank returns. Nigel switched accounts and drew his chair nearer towards the screen.
‘Her second account is the one in which she has inherited some money from your father’s estate, you say,’ he said.
‘Yes, that’s right. Most of it is in our family accountant’s hands but we thought some money should remain in the bank gaining interest, albeit at £5 a month at the present rate. Spreading the risks, sort of thing,’ she found herself saying with little conviction.
Mr. Lees tore off a slip of paper from a pad. He made a column of dates and alongside each wrote £500.
‘Sally has been bleeding this account at £500 almost every ten days, on five occasions to be precise. It’s always the same amount. That’s a total of £2,500 so far. She withdraws cash each time, the same amount as I said, always £500.’
Becky’s eyes grew larger and her breath was held for a moment.
‘Can I put a stop to this?’ she asked determinedly.
‘No, but you can speak to Sally to see what she’s spending it on and, if she agrees, then you can either come in with her and we can arrange a double signature for withdrawals in the future. Or, if you are satisfied with her response, then we carry on as normal.’
‘Thank you, Nigel. I’m beginning to see what I can do. But I came to deposit £100 in her account. I’d better do that now.’
‘Of course, you may, but why not give her £100 in cash? Get her out of the habit of coming in to bleed her savings from the bank.’
‘Makes sense to me. So I’ll get that from the hole in the wall outside?’
Nigel nodded. He stood up and he offered her his hand. ‘We’ll keep an eye out for Sally.’
They shook hands. ‘That will be appreciated. Thanks for all your help.’
‘My pleasure. I trust I shall not be requiring your services in the near future, Dr Dunning.’
‘But if you do.....’ Becky smiled; satisfied with the business she had attended to in his bank.
On the way back to the car she stopped. She took out her mobile phone from her handbag and leant on the back of her car door and called her mother.
‘Mum, I’ve just come from the bank. Sally has been taking large sums out of her account. Did you know?’
Sergeant Jim Boyd was in his police car going around Wigan’s most troublesome estate. Graffiti was scrawled on almost every end-facing building and everywhere bundles of used chip paper and cans of juice lay on the grass verges. Dog owners let their pets walk themselves and hence there was dog mess almost everywhere. In the gutters lay some used needles. Local Mums had drawn attention to the state of the area but despite front page coverage in the local press, it made no difference. Outside Bones and Donkey’s home was no exception.
Sergeant Boyd parked. He lowered his window and breathed in the air. Then looking through his rear window he saw Donkey approach with her hands in her trouser pockets. He got out of his car.
‘Hi Donkey, so how’s life?’ he asked nonchalantly as much as his uniform would permit.
Donkey lowered her eyes into the car to check if he was a lone officer. Two meant trouble. One a recce and that was fine.
‘Life’s okay, can’t grumble.’
Sergeant Boyd nodded while thinking his next approach.
‘Still on benefit?’
‘Yeah, not much suitable work for me, you know poor back and bouts of depression. Doctor laid me off for a while. But I keep looking. Too many offers of so-called ‘light work’, can’t take them on. Wish I could, but...well...you know?’
The sergeant had heard enough. ‘So, where’s Bones these days?’ the officer asked changing the subject.
‘Oh, er....at home. We have settled down these days. Crime don’t pay. Guess it took a long time for the penny to drop for us.’
‘Is that a fact?’ the officer said looking up into Donkey’s shifty eyes.
‘I got other friends too, ya know.’
‘Seems like your new friends are having a good influence on you,’ the officer said taking off his police chequered hat and placing it on the roof of his car.
Donkey hesitated. She wondered what that was all about. ‘What d’ya mean?’
‘No reports of housebreaking, robbery, at least none in these parts involving you, Bones or your friends,’ he said hitching up his trousers and in so doing revealing his spray gas canister.
‘Well, that’s maturity for you, isn’t it? But at the same time, I don’t want to put you out of a job,’ she said, scratching her head and laughing at him.
Boyd stroked his day old facial growth.
‘So you mean you’d now grass on anyone out of line?’
‘That’s going too far Sergeant. Just you be satisfied, Donkey and Bones want to settle down at last. Life is just fine.’
Sergeant Boyd grunted as he turned to open his car door. He lifted his hat from the roof and threw it onto the passenger seat. He flopped down into his seat and started the engine. ‘Good, glad to hear it.’ But it was unlikely Donkey heard the end of the sentence, as the side window was wound up and a call was coming in over the car radio.
Later that day Donkey took out her mobile and prepared to put her best accent to the test should Sally’s mother answer. It rang six times.
‘Hello Mrs Dunning. Sally’s friend, here. Can I have a word with her?’
‘Oh yes, certainly. Er..are you the accountant friend?
‘Um...no, not the accountant one. He’s on leave at present. I think in the south of Italy on holiday with his wife and children. Got a post card from them yesterday,’ she lied with ease.
‘How pleasant. I’ll just get Sally.’
‘Thank you very much Mrs Dunning.’ Lies and charm, the very tools of her trade and Donkey was a master of them both.
Sally heard her mother call her loudly as she played Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s violin concerto on her harmonica.
Remembering the reprimand from Bones for not answering promptly she stopped playing and ran to the phone.
‘Hi Sally. It was good to speak with your mother just now. She’s a very pleasant lady. Now I’ve got some good news for you. Bones has just informed me that the money so far is doing very well, taking advantage of the Chinese market. It’s a good time to invest there at present so if you bring another £500 we will ensure you have a solid bank account very soon. Good deal, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, that’s good.’
‘Okay, meet in two days time, that’s Wednesday 7 p.m. Top of the Plantations walk. Got it?’
‘Yes, I know where it is.’
‘Great, so see you then with the money. Bye for now.’
Sally was elated that her money was doing so well and with the Chinese economy making it work faster, she was sure to have a good bank account before too long.
Becky took a break from Ward 7 and took a moment to phone her sister from the Manchester Royal Infirmary’s staff rest room.
‘Mum?’
‘Oh Becky, the phone hasn’t stopped ringing today it seems. Yes dear?’
‘Well, it’s really Sally I want to speak to. Is she in?’
‘My, she’s popular this afternoon. Sally, it’s your sister on the phone,’ she shouted at the top of her voice.
Sally came running down the stairs and lifted the phone slightly out of breath.
‘Sally, I was at the bank this morning, in Wigan, your bank.’
‘Yes, my bank, TSB it is,’ said Sally fiddling with the telephone cord as she listened following the conversation closely.
‘I spoke with the manager.’
‘Yes, the manager. I don’t know his name,’ she said feeling the message was about the nameless manager.
‘It’s Mr. Lees.’
‘Oh, Mr. Lees?’ she confirmed. She made an effort to remember this important man’s name.
‘Yes, he told me that £500 has been taken out of your account a few times and it’s always the same amount and in cash.’
‘Yes, always the same,’ she confirmed.
‘What are you spending it on, Sally?’ she asked trying hard not to imply an accusative question had been delivered.
‘I’m not spending it. I’m investing it. In the Chinese market, my accountant tells me. They have opened up their stock exchange, did you know?’
‘Your accountant?’ Becky repeated as she recognised Sally was coherent and was answering her questions without any doubts or delay.
‘Yes, so I give the money to him.’
‘Well, Sally, I am not wanting to burst your bubble but until you see the rewards on your investments, I suggest you, ....no, in fact Sally, I am telling you, do not give the accountant any more money. Is that clear?’
Sally felt cold. She always respected her sister. She now found herself caught between her two advisers.
‘I can get my accountant to speak to you. Would that be a good idea?’
‘Yes, Sally, that would be a good idea. Ask him to phone me. Yes that’s a very good idea. It will put my mind at rest. But in the meantime, no more money out of your accountant, understand?’
‘Yes, Becky. No more money.’
9
A&E
Donkey and Bones stood under the horse chestnut tree at the entrance to the Plantations, lighting up their cigarettes. They had arrived early, a few minutes before 7 p.m. They were relaxed confidently awaiting their latest gift of £500.
‘Did you not say we should cool off the requests for a while Donkey?’ Bones asked, then drew a lung full of nicotine in a mournful drag of his cigarette.
‘Yea, but I’m sure we can get away with it a few more times. Her Mum isn’t suspicious luv, believe me.’
Sally entered the gates and started to walk down the driveway of the park. Her legs were heavy as she thought through the disappointment she would have to share.
‘Hi, over here luv,’ said Donkey.
Sally looked up and smiled at the pair.
‘You okay, my friend?’ asked Bones.
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘We’ve got something for you,’ said Donkey leaving her cigarette in her mouth while searching in her pocket. She brought out two twenty pound notes and a tenner.
‘Here’s £50.’ She handed the rolled notes to Sally. ‘That’s just a thank you from the city trader, Mike. He’s making you the money in Hong Kong,’ she said with a genuine smile to a surprised and pleased Sally.
‘Thank you, Donkey.’ She put the money in her left hand pocket of her trousers.
Donkey looked up at Bones who smiled. Their golden goose seemed genuinely thankful for her sudden good fortune. It should ease a few more requests.
‘Now, Sally, luv. You got the cash?’
Sally looked around but nobody was in sight. She made no effort to check her pockets.
‘I’ve not got the money.’
Bones’ face looked threatening. Donkey raised her hand as if to say she would deal with the tense situation.
‘That’s okay Sally, we all get forgetful. You can get it tomorrow morning and we meet again tomorrow afternoon, same time. Okay, my friend?’
Sally moved from one foot to the other and started to sway to and fro.
‘I said okay, Sally?’
‘No, not okay. I can’t give you any money.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Donkey with an anxious look on her face.
‘I was told not to give you any more money.’
A cold current of fear went through Sally as she sensed the changing atmosphere. She felt the hairs rise up on her neck.
A similar feeling came over Bones and Donkey as they feared the end of the arrangement. Bones pulled out a small blue glass bottle from his pocket. Donkey’s face was serious.
‘Who told you, Sally? Who said no more money?’ she said in a slowly spoken voice.
‘My sister told me,’ Sally replied with confidence for that was what Becky always gave her.
‘Do you always do what your big sister tells you?’ asked Bones as he stepped nearer Sally.
‘Yes, she’s my sister. You can phone her if you like. She would be happy to talk to you. She wants you to phone her.’
‘Well I can when I get home but not now, Sally.’ Bones said with more pressing matters on his mind as the golden goose was becoming egg-bound.
‘And we are your friends,’ reminded Donkey.
Sally saw they were saying the right words but she felt ill at ease.
‘That’s not a kind way to treat your friends, is it Sally? But I know..... we all make mistakes. So will you get the money tomorrow?’ she asked in a more conciliatory tone.
Sally was very direct.
‘No, Donkey, I won’t get the money.’
Donkey stubbed out her cigarette with her right trainer shoe and ground it into the damp foliage underfoot.
‘We usually celebrate our profits to date with a small drink,’ said Bones as she took off the bottle top and handed it to Sally.
Sally sniffed and did not know what the liquid was. She hesitated. It would be some alcohol and it was a small bottle. Perhaps she should enjoy the success of her financial contributions to date.
‘Go on Sally, celebrate,’ urged Bones. Donkey looked around.
Sally raised the bottle to her lips and took a sip. Again she hesitated. It was not a familiar drink.
‘Enjoy it. Sally, take it all in one go,’ said Bones. Sally finished the bottle in one huge gulp. A few seconds later Sally’s legs buckled and she sank to the ground like an anchor to the sea bed.
‘We’re not gonna get any more from her, Donkey.’
Donkey nodded. She pulled out the £50 from Sally’s trouser pocket. Their luck had ground to an end and they were bitter. It was time to conclude their relationship and in a way only they knew how. The process began. As Sally’s child-like pose lay on the ground the first solar plexus kick landed. It was followed by kicks to the head which made her nose bleed and more to her stomach and chest. Each seemed to take turns in administering the torture. The assault was fuelled by the realisation Sally was no use to them anymore, after such a promising start. It was unnecessary and spiteful but part of their modus operandi.
A dog walker approached. The attack stopped.
‘Hey, what are you doing to her,’ the dog walker shouted with concern and with adrenaline rushing through his veins.
‘Mind yer own fuckin’ business,’ said Bones.
‘Mind your language or I’ll set my dog
on you.’
Donkey looked at Bones, then at the canine threat. The dog was a mongrel to Bones and Donkey with a long black tail. Its teeth were showing and a growl came from its throat. The dog sensed the situation accurately. It could defend its master and on command attack confronters. There was no time to ask about its mixed pedigree.
‘C’mon, let’s go,’ said Donkey with an eye on the restrained dog. They raised their collars as if to hide their faces as they ran up the path and out of the Plantations gate to the main road.
The dog walker approached the victim. He wound the lead round his hand as his dog was very keen to sniff the body.
‘Are you all right, my dear?’ he asked towering over Sally’s foetal position.
There was no reply. The man prodded Sally but it did not rouse her.
He stood back pulled out his mobile and phoned 999.
‘Which service?’
‘Ambulance and police. Woman beaten up by two youths who have just left the Plantations. One male one female.’
‘A police car will be with you shortly. Can you place the woman in the recovery position?’
‘You mean turn her on her side? She’s already in that position.’
‘Good, then make sure she’s still breathing and if she comes to speak to her. Reassure her, got that?’
‘Yes, okay. I hope the ambulance will be here soon.’
‘It will.’
He tied his dog to a nearby tree and it resumed a seated position looking at the body just out of reach.
In the distance the man heard a siren but had no idea if it was a police car or the ambulance. Soon after, a bright luminous vehicle stopped nearby and two paramedics approached Sally wearing thin light-blue rubber gloves.
‘Madam, can you hear me? I’m Ricky, a medic. Can you hear me?’ What’s your name luv?’
Ricky shone a light in her eyes. There was only a flicker of an eye in response. ‘She’s out for the count.’ He took a pulse reading. ‘Pulse normal. She needs some cautionary x-rays. Let’s get her aboard.’
‘It’s probably a drug case. Her lips are blue,’ his colleague informed Ricky.
Sally uttered a painful groan as she was carefully lifted onto a ridged plastic board. She lay there for a moment. The police car arrived. A sergeant got out together with a female constable. They recognised the ambulance crew.
The Trials of Sally Dunning and a Clerical Murder Page 7
