‘Ah. I can explain that.’
‘It’s a good job I found out now. I’m being posted. By the time I got back you might have spirited her away again.’
‘Oh? Posted where?
‘To Poole of all ridiculous places. Poole or Southampton. They’re convinced that your ex-wife will try and make a run for it via the South Coast, considering she was brought up around here. The thinking is, as I’m someone who knows her pretty well, I might spot her trying to wriggle through, even if she’s wearing a disguise.’
This wasn’t good. The last thing I needed was Rump throwing a spanner in the works. He wasn’t very good on faces, but even so.
‘When are you starting?’
‘Tomorrow. It’s most inconvenient. I was flying a fish psychiatrist in from Oslo this week. Mother Teresa’s problems aren’t in her gills at all. Gender issues, that’s her problem. She needs therapy Al.’
I did some quick thinking. It was tricky, but I had to get him out the way somehow.
‘Right. The thing is Adam, this rather throws my plan as Cupid out of kilter. You’re right. I didn’t tell you about Mrs Durand Deacon being here because I was hoping to arrange everything somewhere a little more private, but now you’ve found out, and you’re off in the next day or two, I’m going to have to tell you now.’
‘Tell me what?’
‘How I’ve been spending the last few days lining this up, this tête-à-tête between you and Mrs Durand-Deacon.’
‘Lining it up? Where?’
His eyes darted from side to side, as if he half expected her to jump out at him right there and then.
‘I was aiming for somewhere where you wouldn’t be disturbed, like on a secluded beach, or by my pond, away from prying eyes. Now, you’ll have to make do with her hotel room. She’s very keen to meet you, Adam. As keen as you are to meet her. Keener if anything.’
‘Is she?’
‘Yes. You made a big impression on her. She only wants one man in her life now. You.’
‘Me? Well, I should say I’m surprised, but… ‘He drew himself up, straightened his mac round his knees. There was a kind of glow about him, like he’d forgotten about everything he’d said about me.
‘Yes. You know when you first saw her, the state she was in, in the all-together?’
‘How could I forget.’
‘Well the thing is Adam, as you feel the same was about her as she feels about you, she thinks it only right and proper that you reciprocate.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘When she sees you for the first time, she wants you to be in the same state as when you saw her.’
‘With a vase on my head?’
‘Not necessarily with a vase on your head. But…’
‘Standing a corner?’
‘No. The other thing.’
‘You mean…oh I don’t think so.’
‘Fair’s fair, Adam. It’s not unreasonable when you think about it. That’s how you first clapped eyes on her, and us artist types, well like I said, nudity come second nature to us, first even Look, you could do it all dramatic if you like. There she’ll be waiting in her room. You could walk towards her, arms stretched out carrying a present, a symbol of your intentions, something tender, romantic.’
‘You mean, like a fish?’
‘Possibly a fish. Or perhaps a piece of art work representing a fish, something that will remind you both of how you started. How about this?’
I unwrapped the collage. His hand went to his mouth.
‘I know. Breathtaking isn’t it. A shoal of Japanese Tonti, leaping through the seaweed, on the way to their spawning ground.’
‘Tonti? I’m not sure I’ve…’
‘Don’t you recognise them, that funny eye in the middle, like they’ve got a squint. You’ve got a few in your pond, surely?’
‘I haven’t as a matter of fact.’ He took a tentative step closer, peered. ‘Tonti eh? Yes, from the southern island I believe. I’ve only seen black and white picture of them of course.’
‘What could be better. You give her this. Then whip your coat off. A surprise she’ll never forget.’
He thought for a moment.
‘It’s a bit intense isn’t it?’
‘She’s an artist Adam, like me. We like it full on.’
‘Nothing on at all?’
‘A pair of socks if you’re worried about your feet. Strike while the iron is hot, Adam. She’s very keen to get started posing by your pond.’
‘She hasn’t seen my pond.’
‘No, but I described it in some detail, its mystic ambience, the wailing waterfall, Mother Teresa’s Grotto. That’s why she was so dead set on fixing this date up. She says she’s only heard of ponds that size, never actually laid eyes on one. Go there now. Get yourself announced by reception. Then it’s into lift, up to the first floor, knock on the door and bonzai!’
He shook his head, still wavering.
‘It’s very good of you Al, but don’t think I can do it, not completely…you know, uncovered. Not even for Hilary.’
‘Well, keep your knickers on then, if that will help. It’s not what she hoped for, but considering you’re not as comfortable with the naked form as us artists are, she’ll understand. Could you do that?’
His head went to one side, like a chicken does when she’s trying to work out why she’s standing still again. You could almost hear the little thoughts bouncing around his head. Then he nodded, eyes shut.
‘I think I could. I mean that’s no different from what you wear on the beach is it, underpants, except for my name written on the elastic. Not that I go on the beach that much. Who needs the sea when you’ve got pond water to wade about in?’
‘Precisely. Well, now that’s decided, we better make sure she’s at home. We don’t want you to go to all this trouble for nothing. Wrap the picture back up while I make the call.’
I rang the receptionist again. Got put through as quick as last time.
‘Mrs Durand-Deacon? It’s Al Greenwood again, Hilary. I’ve just been talking to Detective Rump.’
‘Detective Inspector,’ Rump whispered.
‘What?’
‘He’d very much like to come and see you right now, if that’s all right.’
‘No it isn’t all right. I told you, if you attempt to drag me into this…’ I gave Rump the thumb’s up.
‘He’s knows the form, body-wise.’
‘What have you said to him?’
‘And is very happy with what I’ve told him. No worries there. He might not be able to show you everything, you understand, but I can promise you, in all other respects, you’re not going to be disappointed.’
Adam’s head was going up and down like a toy on a car back seat. It was pitiful, the look of trust on his face.
‘You mean, I’m not involved at all.’
‘Free as a bird, Hilary.’ I winked at Rump. ‘And when you see him, I hope you’ll reciprocate.’
I snapped the phone shut.
‘Job done. It’s up to you now. You know the saying. Carp diem. It means…’ He put his hand up.
‘Day of the carp, yes I know. Shall I get undressed here?’
‘I’d use the hotel washroom if I were you. You don’t want to expose yourself accidentally on the way in. I’ll drive you there if you like. You look a bit nervous to drive yourself.’
He got into the Citroën, collage wrapped up on his knee. We drove off up to the Bindon, his leg jiggling up and down like his bladder was about to burst. I parked the car at the bottom of the drive, waited for him to get out the car.
‘Do you think I should do any of that French kissing after I’ve taken my mac off?’ he said, ‘My fish do it all the time, when Mother Teresa isn’t about.’
‘You could try, certainly,’ I said. ‘She’s a woman of the world. Most likely she’s expecting it.’
He got out. I watched him disappear through the door.
I rolled down the window, lit a cigarette. It
was going to be a nice evening, one of those ones you want to sit on the patio with a gin in one hand and spliff in the other, see all your cares going up in smoke. If only. Somewhere out there was a little window, just big enough for me to open up and squeeze through, pop out to the other side, where there was space and light and freedom. I just hadn’t found it yet. Maybe I never would.
Then came this high pitched screech, like the coastguard klaxon going off, only higher pitched and slightly louder. Mrs Duran-Deacon exploded onto the balcony, running this way and that like a scalded hamster. Then Rump appeared in his underwear, the collage frame wrapped round his neck. I couldn’t see if he had socks on or not. Mrs Durand-Deacon gave another screech and, with one hand on the balcony rail, vaulted clean over the railing, right into the rhododendron bushes below.
I chucked the fag out the window, started up the engine and drove off.
ELEVEN
We did nothing for the rest of that evening, the bungalow quiet but restless. We tried a game a Scrabble, but Audrey’s found it all too much, her mind flipping from one thing to another. Why hadn’t I bought her any proper clothes? Was there a radio in the cabin? Did they play bingo on board? Were the prizes any good?
‘Jesus Christ, Audrey. This is not a holiday, remember. You’re evading the law, which on the high seas takes the form of the captain and his greasy minions, all looking for promotion. They’ve got a nose for stowaways. You stick your head out that door and we’re done for.’
‘All right, keep your hair on. I was just thinking of how to best pass the time. I’ve always fancied playing bingo on a boat. Or roulette.’
We talked it through, what she would do. She agreed to get off the first port of call, Marseilles. Nice and busy Marseilles. Lots of boats to places like Tangiers and that. I was giving her four hundred Euro’s in cash. She could stay there somewhere cheap until her Michaela turned up. After she’d left, we’d try and make out that the cabin was occupied for as long as we could, so they wouldn’t notice. Least that what she went to bed thinking and who was I to disoblige her? Tomorrow Tina would ring the police, set everything I’d planned in motion, that is, if she did what I told her to. But you can never can tell with women can you, never really rely on them like that? Do as they’re told? They don’t know the meaning of it.
Next morning. Our last full day. I relented, drove over to Lidl’s early, bought Audrey a fresh set of clothes what she could wear, I said, just before she left the ship. I got a pair of brown slacks and a brown top and a blue jersey with a pair of golf clubs crossed over, like they were swords. I drove back, parked the car in the garage, pulled the cover over. It wasn’t made for sea-air, that Citroën. I was coming out, with the clothes bag in my hand when they rose up from behind the hedge opposite. And I hadn’t seen a thing.
‘Mr Greenwood? Mr Al Greenwood?’
He was tall and thin, a face like a llama, but with policeman’s cap on, and a shine to his shoes that one could only describe as excessive. He had a woman policeman with him too. Not a good sign.
‘My name is Regional Crime Commander Gordon, and this is my colleague Sergeant May. May we come in?’
‘Any particular reason?’
‘I think you know the reason, Mr Greenwood.’
He stretched his hand out, showing me the way, as if it was his path, his front door, his bungalow. That’s what I hate about coppers. Ultimately, they think everything belongs to them.
I stuck the key in, calling out to Em as I wiped my feet.
‘We have visitors dearest, associates of Mr Rump. Two of them. Perhaps you could make them some tea.’
She bounced out of the bedroom like she was on a spring. She was wearing her little brown nightdress, everything loose underneath. Her hair was all messed up and she had jam round her mouth. Commander Gordon pretended not to notice. Audrey, thank Christ was nowhere to be seen. I took them into the lounge, had them sit down.
‘So,’ I said, deciding to brazen it out. I mean if they’d had a search warrant, they wouldn’t even have bothered to wipe their feet. ‘This is about Audrey Cutlass again I suppose. My ex-wife. The one I don’t see anymore’
‘Is that what you think this is about?’ He cocked his head. He was a clever bastard, I could tell.
‘It crossed my mind, considering Detective Rump was here not five days ago looking for the same thing, and left empty handed. Must have been disappointing for him and you. How’s he bearing up?’
He looked at the woman. She put her head down smartish, trying not to giggle. Women can be terribly cruel sometimes. Regional Crime Commander Gordon coughed into his hand.
‘He’s been relieved of his duties. There’s been a complaint.’
‘Really? I’m sorry to hear that. Our paths have crossed socially you know. He’s a very keen koi collector like me, though tell the truth, he hasn’t been himself lately. Started singing to mine the last time we met. He’s alright I hope?’
Sergeant May ducked her head down again, this time couldn’t quite suppress it. Gordon scowled.
‘He’s in a secure medical facility. He’s had some sort of mental breakdown I’m afraid, exposed himself to a member of the public. It’s one of the dangers of our job, excessive stress.’
I smiled, one of those big, broad fuckers. I know I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t resist it. I had my standards to keep up.
‘It’s the curse of our age, isn’t it Commander, stress. He was acting strange his last time here to tell the truth. We had a model here that day, doing life studies. To be frank I don’t think he had ever seen a naked woman before, least not for a while. He became very agitated in her presence, but I put it down to him being on the way to the pond to look at my fish. Is anyone looking after his, now that’s he’s away in the funny farm. I’d help myself, if I wasn’t due back at work tomorrow. Cruise liner entertainments officer. Hardly work really, but someone’s got to do it.’
He ran a hand through his hair. This wasn’t going in the direction he wanted.
‘That’s very considerate of you Mr Greenwood, but I haven’t come to talk about Inspector Rump’s problems, although he does initially come into the picture.’
He took out a notebook, laid it on his knee. He had long bony legs, long bony arms, clean fresh skin on his face. He could run a mile full pelt, and then some if he wanted to. I’d have to hit him with something if I needed to stop him, hit him and tie him up and put him where he couldn’t do me any harm for a couple of days. The woman too, and I didn’t want to have to do that. She looked a nice young thing for a policeman. He took out a propelling pencil, fiddled with it. I’ve always disliked propelling pencils, the way they slide out like that, like a dog with his what's-it at the ready.
‘Now, I understand the day before yesterday, Inspector Rump was here in the afternoon, and he saw you come down from the Beacon at around sixteen fifteen. Is that right?’
Sixteen fifteen? What are we? Swedes?
‘Quarter past four in the afternoon? If he says so, yes. That’s when I caught him singing. I’d been up top, doing a spot of sketching.’
‘You see, there’d been a fatality, up on the Beacon, that same afternoon we believe.’
‘It should be roped off that area, we’ve been saying it for years. It’s not good for trade, visitors falling off.’
‘Now you had a Mr Palmerstone staying here, I believe, the evening before.’
Christ on Audrey’s bicycle, how the fuck did he know that?
‘We had a couple staying overnight I believe. My fiancée usually looks after the b and b side of things usually. I can’t remember his surname, Gerald, that was his Christian name. Is that your man?’
‘It would appear so. Your address was in a little diary we found in his back pocket. He was in the water a very short time, so it was barely damp.’
Oh, jolly good. Time to take the bull by the horns.
‘Up on the Beacon you say, this accident. Well that makes sense. That’s why I went up there primarily,
to meet him.’
‘Meet him?’
‘Yes. He was a butterfly collector, you know. There’s a very rare butterfly up on that hill. I promised to show him her whereabouts. So we arranged a meet. That’s why I was up there primarily, with my sketch pad. But he never showed up.’
‘I see.’ He glanced over at Sergeant May. They were liking this.
‘And how long did you wait?’ I shrugged my shoulders.
‘I’m a busy man Inspector. Can’t hang around in the hope some butterfly chaser turns up on time. Forty minutes? Half an hour? Can’t say exactly.’
‘You didn’t see him, or any of his effects lying around? A jacket for instance?’
‘As I said, I had a sketch book with me, working out my next sculpture. I wasn’t paying much attention to the surroundings.’
‘And this woman he was with earlier?’
‘Well, she wasn’t his wife, even though they signed in as such. No idea of her real name. Hardly saw her. She just went into the bedroom and stayed there for the duration. You know how it is.’
‘When did you last see him?’
‘About ten the next morning. We had a cup of coffee in our breakfast bar. We arranged to meet up at the Beacon some time after three. Then he tucked his socks into his trousers and off he went.’
‘Leaving this woman behind.’
‘She wasn’t no butterfly catcher, though she’d give you a run for your money and no mistake. She left that morning. She was put out. He’d cut their little romance short. His wife had found out.’
‘And that was the last you saw of him?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you didn’t see him up on the Pimple at all?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Right.’ He licked a finger and leafed his way back a couple of pages. Sergeant Day leant forward, hands on her knees, all tense. Something was coming, I couldn’t quite work out what. He did the opposite, sat back in the chair, relaxez-vous.
‘Now, you’d had an altercation earlier that day with a Mr Angus McWhirtle, had you not? This was the reason of Detective Rump’s visit.’
Ship Ahoy! (A Cliffhanger Novel Book 3) Page 23
