Good Deed Bad Deed : A Novel Mystery

by Marcia Morgan

  “Yes, of course,” Ben replied, turning to walk around the staircase to her window. “I’m not good at speaking to my neighbors, but I often notice you there at the window. It’s always nice to see the flowers in your window box. It tells me I’m home.”

  “Thank you, dear. I’ve always believed that flowers soften the soul.” She stopped picking at the dead blooms and said, “Maybe one day you’ll have a ‘cuppa’ with me.” She sat up a little straighter, squaring her shoulders, and continued, “I’ve read one of your books, you know. And please call me Lilith.”

  “Don’t let me forget now, Lilith, because I’d be interested to hear what you think about the book, whichever one it was.”

  “Never mind about all that now,” she said, and leaned further out the window, motioning him to come closer in order to speak more softly. “Don’t be obvious, but turn around and look at that square black vehicle parked just there, up a bit from the entrance.”

  Ben turned carefully and glanced in that direction. “They call it an SUV. Why does it concern you?”

  “Because it has been there too long and no one ever got out. I’ve lived long enough to know that whoever is inside is up to no good.” She tossed her chin back and pursed her lips tightly. Then she furrowed her brow and shrugged her shoulders in disgust.

  “I suppose there are hundreds of black SUV’s around London. And I think most of them have innocent reasons for being parked on the street.”

  “Well I don’t like it!” Her tone was at once authoritative and timid. “I’m going to call the police to come and see who’s in there and why. I’m not climbing into my bed tonight until it’s gone.” She wrung her hands and peeked around him to peer at the vehicle again.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” Ben said gently, “Try not to let your imagination run away with you.” While speaking to her he had continued to sneak glances at the vehicle. “You’ll have to excuse me, Missus… Lilith… but I need to get upstairs. If you really feel frightened later, don’t hesitate to call 999.” He reached through the open window and patted her hand.

  “I will, dear, but I just hope they leave soon.” She paused momentarily, and before Ben was half way up the stairs, she called him back. “Wait a minute. Come back and come to my door. I have a fresh-baked sweet for you to take upstairs.”

  Not wanting to offend her, Ben did as he was told, rounding the banister and taking the few stairs down to her door, which already stood open. He remained in the doorway, fully aware that going inside would mean at least an hour of conversation and that cup of tea she had mentioned. While he stood waiting for her to wrap the treat, Ben heard a horn honk and turned to see the said vehicle’s door had been opened, causing an oncoming vehicle to swerve in order to avoid it. Less than an instant later he saw a familiar sight. The man from the night before, with his ratty leather jacket and bald tattooed head, was coming toward him at a fast pace. He stepped quickly inside Mrs. Ward-Thomas’ flat and slammed the door shut, locking it. He then rushed to close and latch the window.

  She came out of the kitchen, clutched her chest in shock, and asked, “ What’s wrong? Why did you come in and lock the door?”

  “I can’t explain everything right now,” he said emphatically, speaking in haste. “Go to the back of the flat … No! Go out in the garden and through the gate to the alleyway. Stay there until the police come. But don’t come inside until someone you know comes to get you.”

  Lilith turned and took short quick steps through her kitchen to the garden door. She turned once, calling out to Ben, “What’s happening? Why must I go outside?

  “There’s a man outside who I’m quite sure is trying to kidnap me. He already tried once, last night.” He reached into his pocket for his phone and quickly dialed 999. Unable to think of a way to explain the danger they were in, he told the operator that someone was trying to break into his neighbor’s basement flat, that she was elderly and very frightened. They assured that a car would be there shortly and not to engage the perpetrator. In a moment, Lilith came back into the sitting room. He told her again to go outside, and this time his tone was even more desperate. Then he noticed what she had in her hand. She extended to him her only means of defense, a golf club.

  “Here, take this. It belonged to my husband. I’ve kept it around here on the odd chance I might have to defend myself.”

  Just then Ben saw the man’s face at the window. A moment later he heard the man throw his weight against the door. It didn’t give, and there was a pause before he tried again. After providing Ben with her weapon, Lilith had made what was a hasty exit for a woman her age, and he didn’t have to worry about her at the moment. The door would surely come down with the next impact from the man’s shoulder. Ben positioned himself just behind the door, readying for the confrontation. There was no one to intercede on his behalf this time, and he only had complete use of one arm. Fortunately, that was his dominant side, but he was forced to pull the other arm out of its sling and ignore what damage using it might cause.

  As expected, the man rammed the door one last time and it gave way, opening, but not coming off its hinges. This allowed Ben to stay partially hidden. The man stepped over the threshold and began to scan the room. After his would-be attacker had taken a few more steps forward, Ben took his shot. He winced with pain as he used both arms to accomplish a swing that might have reached at least the ninth hole. However, he was aiming high, and he caught the man mid-torso, causing him to cry out and fall to his knees. Ben readied himself to take another swing, hoping to neutralize his enemy completely, even knock him unconscious. But the man was as tough as he looked, with his dirty black boots and tattoos, and he got to his feet before Ben could get off another blow.

  He spun around and grabbed at the club. Ben could only grasp it strongly with one hand, and soon it had been taken from him. This time he saw the man’s smile. He was missing two teeth, and the rest were the yellow-brown of a smoker. He was clean-shaven, but several small scars marred one side of his cheek. He came at Ben, who was backing toward the door, hoping to escape outside and call for help. Where’s that damn Panda full of cops, he thought as his heel hit the threshold. Ben turned and tried to run up the few stairs to the street, but his attacker reached him and started up the stairs, grabbing for his pant leg. Ben tried to continue forward, but was pulled off balance and fell forward onto the stairs, wincing with pain as he failed to protect his shoulder.

  Just then he heard noise from inside the flat. The heavy sound of men running became louder, as did their raised voices. Two strapping lads broke through the doorway and jumped on Ben’s assailant, hoping to restrain him until the police arrived. Once again his brute strength secured his freedom. He dashed up the stairs and onto the sidewalk, signaling to his cohort to back up and get him. The SUV screeched backward and the door swung open. He looked fiercely at Ben one more time, shaking his fist as he jumped in. The vehicle door slammed shut, and the perpetrators sped into traffic and out of sight, once again managing to elude arrest.

  The two young men helped Ben up and asked if he was all right. His shoulder was throbbing again, but nothing had been injured other than his ego, having once again failed to detain his attacker. The expressions on their faces were questioning, obviously waiting for some kind of explanation. “I’ll tell you about it in a minute. But right now I need to attend to Lilith. She’s probably still standing outside the gate, wondering what’s happening.”

  They nodded in agreement, and just as Ben turned to go through the house and outside to fetch her, the Panda car pulled up the street and stopped in front of the building. Two officers jumped out, checked the address, and one spoke into his shoulder radio, most likely confirming their arrival at the scene. Ben asked the young men to talk to the officers long enough for him to bring Lilith back into the house. He hurried through the kitchen and down the steps to the garden, where he found himself surrounded by rows of vegetables growing in front of a backdrop of lanky sunflowers. The old wooden gate
was almost hidden among their giant leaves. He pushed it open and began to call her name. She had made her way up the alley to the edge of the building and was standing in a tiny circle of shade provided by a neighbor’s peach tree. He jogged to where she stood, took her gently by the arm, and guided her back toward the garden. All the while he was explaining what had transpired.

  Lilith waved her arm to indicate she was out of breath, so they stopped. “I truly didn’t know I could still move that fast,” she said, bending to put her hands on her knees and take some deep breaths. Then she stood straight again and added, “I’m so relieved that you’re all right.”

  “Where did those two lads come from?” Ben asked. “They saved my bacon. No doubt about that.”

  “I’ve watched those boys grow up. They came up the alley just as I opened the gate. They’re polite boys and spoke to me. Then they saw I was in a state and asked why, and if I needed help.” Lilith walked over and leaned against a half-painted fence. “I was frantic. I told them there was a neighbor being attacked inside my flat. They didn’t hesitate, just took off running toward my back door. Brave boys, eh?”

  “I was a lucky bastard again. Last night, coming out of the pub, three men who looked like footballers drove off the same guy.” Ben motioned her to come along back into the house. “We have to speak to the police. They’re here now,” he said. As they walked through the garden he asked, “Do you know the boys’ names? I have to find a way to thank them.”

  Lilith said she wasn’t sure, but that they were brothers and lived in the next building over. Back in the flat, the two policemen and the two young men were standing in the middle of the sitting room, engaged in some sort of argument between them. As Lilith and Ben approached they heard enough to know that the officers had the wild idea that the two heroes were the thugs breaking into her house. Ben eased Lilith into her armchair and then interceded for the boys, making clear what had happened and how they may have saved his life. He then told the story of the previous night and asked to file a report on the attempted kidnappings. In order to do that, he was told that due to the nature of the purported crime, he must appear in person at Scotland Yard.

  When the policemen had left, Ben asked Lilith if she felt all right. He said he would feel better if there was someone he could call to come and sit with her until she calmed down a bit more. He was able to reach her daughter’s mobile and was assured that she would be there within fifteen minutes. In the meantime, he brewed Lilith a very welcome cup of tea.

  She sipped her tea quietly, and then said, “After what happened to you, wouldn’t you like something stronger than tea? I have some sherry in the cupboard.”

  “Thank you for offering, but what I need is to go upstairs and ice this shoulder. It’s punishing me for taking off the sling.” Ben found the sling on the floor near the threshold and slipped it back on. The door was hanging a bit off kilter and would not be secure when closed. A quick call to building maintenance took care of that problem. Within a few minutes the building ‘super’ appeared with tool belt at the ready. He told them that although he could make the door secure for the night, a piece of the frame was cracked and would have to be replaced. He made the temporary repair and promised to return before noon the next day. As he headed up the stairs Lilith’s daughter passed him on her way down.

  She ran to her mother, knelt down and took her hand before speaking. “Are you all right, Mum? What have you got yourself into?” Then she turned to Ben and said, “What happened? Did someone try to hurt my Mum?”

  He explained that no, she wasn’t in any danger, and that she had actually helped keep him from harm by coming back with the golf club. He could see that she was holding back her opinion about her mother’s part in things, but wisely, she chose not to comment further. The cracked doorframe had been mentioned, and she insisted on spending the night and remaining there until it was repaired. Now certain that Lilith would be fine, Ben thanked her again and took his leave. He looked around carefully as he went up the few stairs to the street. Nothing seemed amiss, so he ran up to the entrance, punched in his security code, and hurried into the building.

  The lift stopped at the third floor and Ben got out, fumbled for his keys, and was soon inside. His flat was cluttered with books, and yesterday’s newspaper had been strewn all over the dark leather sofa. Dust motes floated freely in the rays of sunlight shining through the half open wooden shutters. The air was stale, and there was the faint odor of unwashed dishes. Ben looked around and shook his head. I could never let Ana into this place, he thought, removing his jacket and casting it onto a chair.

  He made his way to the refrigerator and pulled out an ice tray before grabbing a kitchen towel and spreading it out on the counter. With a couple of hard bangs on the counter the ice came free. He bundled it up and headed for the sofa, where he flopped down, put the ice on his shoulder and closed his eyes. His thoughts raced, trying to sort through what had happened over the last twenty-four hours and why. The whole concept was inconceivable to him. He wasn’t a rich man— comfortable perhaps, but not rich enough to be a target. His parents were doing well, but in no position to ransom their son. His head ached, but the ibuprofen was in the pocket of his jacket, too far away. He didn’t want to move. Closing his eyes again, he drifted off.

  Ben slept for an hour or so, and when he finally opened his eyes it was mid-afternoon. The melted ice had soaked his shirt and one of the sofa pillows. He swung his legs around and sat up, then put his head in his hands, beginning once again to sort through events. Getting nowhere, he headed for his bedroom and the long overdue shower. Later, feeling refreshed as well as ravenous, Ben thought about how good an Indian takeaway would taste.

  Before he could get organized to leave, a voice in his head warned him what being out on the street at night could mean. Third time could well be the charm for his newfound enemies. He decided instead to scour his cupboards for sustenance. All he came up with was some dry pasta and a tin of sardines. He put on water for the pasta and opened the sardines. They were packed in tomato sauce and oil, so when the pasta was ready, he drained it and proceeded to toss it all together. There was just a tad of parmigiano left in the cardboard shaker, and he added it to his dish. He knew that this would appall his mother, who insisted that the container version wasn’t real food. The half-bottle of red wine he found displaced in the refrigerator served to cut the taste of his makeshift meal.

  While eating he was struck by a disturbing thought. Ana had seen the bald man, had actually seen both of the men. There was a possibility they had been followed during the day. He couldn’t understand how they could have known where she was staying, or how the two of them could have been tracked down the next day, but it had to be considered. Of course they could find his address, and did. An unlisted phone number was of little help in the current age of technology. But regardless of how they had found him, the fact was they could also find Ana, so she was in danger. He felt guilty that she had been drawn into whatever was happening, and he knew it was up to him to protect her. Ben concluded that just keeping her at a distance from him would be of little help. The best course would be to keep her with him, or better yet, to keep her in the country, far away from these men.

  The challenge would be to coax Ana into accompanying him to his parents’ home. He didn’t want to frighten her with the truth of his motivation to get her out of London. Suddenly it came to him, and he felt quite clever for creating an appropriate ruse. It’s perfect, Ben thought. He planned tell her she was needed because of his shoulder, that he couldn’t begin to drive that far.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The dismal sky and constant drizzle of the previous day had given way to sunshine and the bright colors of a landscape washed clean. Paris McKinnon walked briskly up the path leading to the museum’s employee entrance, dodging the few puddles that remained. Before going in she brushed at the sides of her blonde hair, checking for any stragglers set free from her chignon by the pleasant morning breeze.
She had met a friend for coffee and then had trouble hailing a taxi during the morning rush. These days she often thought that the commute to London three days a week was becoming too much for her sixty-two years. The timing had to be just right: Make the train to Paddington, catch the Tube, then a brisk walk or taxi—depending on the weather.

  As she headed down the hall toward her office, a male colleague caught up with her, and without any preface of greeting, asked if she had received the paperwork on the exhibit scheduled for display at the start of the following month. Her office had been empty for a week due to the short trip she and Hugh had taken for their anniversary. Her colleague was a rather prissy man, crowded into his clothes as if they were keeping him upright. Perhaps the reference she once overheard about his being ‘spineless’ was the reason he wore such close-fitting attire. She smiled at the thought. Although he could appear quite affable when met head-on by proper etiquette, Paris was sure that he coveted her position and influence with the museum board. She could imagine that as a boy he had been the perfect type for class tattletale.

  “Good morning to you, too, Mr. Brett,” she said, making a point of his lack of civility. “I’m sure you’re aware that I was out of the office last week. There’s bound to be a stack of correspondence and forms piled on my desk. I assure you I will go through it first thing.” She reached her door and turned to face him, putting on her best smile before turning back to unlock the door.

  “Well, it’s imperative that we’re properly prepared to receive the containers,” he said, his tone condescending. “The contents are more valuable than anything in this museum. They’ve hired several twenty-four-hour guards for that specific display case.” Mr. Brett threw his shoulders back and pulled at the tie encircling his pencil-like neck. That adjustment made, he continued, “Please make this your top priority. If there’s a glitch, there will be hell to pay.”