Dark Undertakings (28 page)

‘All right then. Give me Vince’s mobile number, and I’ll try not to make too many mistakes.’

‘Just get the address, and the person’s name. You also need to ask which doctor it is. Vince’ll see to most of that. You just take the message, and do the removal. Anyway, you’re not likely to get anything. This is just insurance, basically.’ She paused, and then read out Vince’s number. Drew scribbled on a creased envelope lying beside the phone.

‘Okay then,’ he said. ‘Have fun.’ He winced, hearing himself.

‘Thanks, Drew, but I’m not doing it for my own pleasure.’

Karen was listening in some puzzlement, mouthing questions at him which he ignored until the phone was safely replaced. He looked at her, eyes sparkling.

‘That suicide we saw – the chap who hanged himself on the tree. It was Sid’s daughter’s boyfriend. I saw him on Tuesday, arguing with her.
He nearly stepped in front of the Espace. Hanging himself – who’d have thought it? Probably just to get back at her. Poor girl – what must she be going through!’

‘And?’ Karen prompted, gesturing at the phone.

‘Oh, yes. Well, Sid’s upset – he had to do the removal – and can’t take the phones because he’s coping with the girl. So I’m taking them while Daphne goes hospital visiting. So we can’t go out anywhere. Can’t use the phone much, either, in case we block an incoming call. This is promotion, you know. Sort of.’

‘And a bloody nuisance. I didn’t want to spend all afternoon cooped up here.’

‘Well, you don’t have to. You can do what you like.’

‘So long as I don’t take the car, don’t hog the phone, and do it on my own. Big deal.’

‘Well, we just have to make the best of it. The job comes first, when all’s said and done.’ They were scowling at each other, the abrupt change to their anticipated afternoon an irritation neither felt capable of dealing with, especially in the light of other tensions.

‘So what exactly are we going to do?’ Karen’s voice was loud, hectoring, and Drew shrank a little.

‘We hadn’t got much in mind anyway, that I
can recall,’ he snapped back. ‘After yesterday’s little adventure, I’m right out of ideas.’

Karen banged two plates onto the table, and went to open the oven door. ‘Lunch,’ she snapped, losing patience with him. ‘Then I’ll go and get a video and we can watch it all afternoon.
Two
videos, even.’

Drew’s face felt tight, as he wrestled with conflicting feelings. He hated it when Karen shouted at him; besides, her sudden abandonment of their investigations the previous afternoon was hurtful, though he fully understood her reasons. Underneath everything he felt an abiding excitement about the events of the past days; something he didn’t expect her to share. Now there was a second death, could it be somehow connected? The fact that Sid was directly affected heightened the interest.

‘I suppose I’ll be glad of the chance to do nothing for once,’ he told her, peaceably. ‘We could go and get a takeaway curry this evening, if you like.’

‘I’m not fooled, you know,’ she said quietly. ‘I know you’ll be thinking about death and murder and all that, whatever I say and do.’

‘No, I won’t,’ he assured her. ‘I promise. I’ll watch the video with complete attention. You can test me on it afterwards.’

She let go of her anger so quickly he could almost see it escaping in the breath she exhaled. He picked up his fork, holding it upright in his fist, like a toddler. ‘This looks good,’ he said, eyeing the sizeable chop on his plate.

‘It’d better be,’ she said, with a quick forgiving smile.

A few minutes later, Karen paused, and frowned. ‘Poor Sid, though,’ she said. ‘He thinks the world of that daughter of his.’

‘So I gather,’ he mumbled, his mouth full. ‘I presume she dumped the boyfriend and he’s hanged himself to get even.’

‘Horrible thing to do. She’ll have a fair idea what’s involved, too, with her job.’

Drew frowned. ‘What job?’

‘She’s a doctor’s receptionist. Doctor Lloyd’s practice. Surely you knew that?’

He shook his head. ‘How did
you
know?’

‘Let me think … Yes, I remember,’ she said, waving her fork in the air triumphantly. ‘That day, must have been the first week you were in the job – we bumped into Sid and his creepy wife in the High Street, and stopped for a chat. She told me all about Susie. Said Sid was always spoiling the girl, letting her have her own way, when he should be keeping her on the straight and narrow. Seemed to think she was about fourteen, still.’

‘Everyone at Plant’s must know except me. I can’t believe I can miss all these obvious, glaring facts that everybody else takes for granted. She even came in on Friday, you know. Slipped into the mortuary for a quick chat with Sid. Seems like a nice girl.’

‘Well, I don’t suppose she’s got any connection with you-know-what. Unless she and the doctor and the boyfriend were all in cahoots to poison Jim Lapsford.’ She clamped her lips together, remembering her veto. ‘Except we’re not going to talk about that any more,’ she added.

‘Okay.’ He resumed eating. ‘This isn’t bad. Excellent fried onions.’

‘We aim to please. Onion gives me indigestion. I can practically feel it already.’

‘The sacrifice does not go unnoticed,’ he said carefully.

She grinned at him, seduced as always by his facility with words. ‘I’ll get videos, then. Is there anything you fancy?’

He shook his head. ‘Whatever you like. There’s plenty we haven’t seen.’

‘I’ll go when we’ve done the washing up. It’ll pass the time nicely.’

He knew this was what Karen most wanted, for the next few days – for time to pass swiftly, without the onset of her period. Day thirty was
half over, and he was allowing himself an early flicker of excitement. She’d never gone more than thirty-one since he’d known her. He could tell by looking at her that the usual gentle bloating hadn’t happened this month, either. It was Sunday – he should pray. He should give himself up as a hostage to fortune, and promise to be everlastingly good, if only Karen was pregnant. He should make this baby happen by the sheer force of his will.

He remembered Baby Nicholas and shuddered. Many times he had wondered whether some great Ledger had balanced out his credit and debit standing, and deemed that he should go forever childless, as the only fair outcome. He could have saved that baby, if he’d been wiser, sharper, a better person altogether.

There was no discernible sense in making this sort of connection. Even less in trying to earn some cosmic brownie points by ferreting out the truth about Jim Lapsford. His interference so far had done nothing but upset people. And yet, and yet, he simply
couldn’t
let it rest. Having uncovered so much, with developing patterns becoming clearer every day, he had to see it through to the end. He hoped Karen would choose some undemanding comedies which would leave his mind free to ponder the whole
business. He hoped the phone would remain silent, and Daphne come back quickly from her errand of mercy.

David Lapsford knew about Craig well before his mother or brother did. Very late on Saturday evening, after his mother and Jodie had left, he had been visited by Susie Hawkes, white-faced and shaking, holding a folded sheet of paper. ‘I can’t think of anybody else who’d understand,’ she said. ‘Craig’s killed himself. He left this with the woman in the flat above mine. He told her to give it to me at seven.’

The paper was Craig’s suicide note, addressed to Susie.

David closed his eyes when he finished, until the tears behind the lids stung so much he had to open them again. ‘What a buggering thing to happen,’ he whispered.

‘I can’t believe it,’ she said, running her fingers viciously through her hair, scratching at her scalp as if trying to draw blood. ‘It’s all so calculated. He
planned
it, and I had no idea.’

‘When did it happen?’

Susie heaved a heavy sigh. ‘Just this afternoon. He hanged himself from a tree, right next to the road. They took him to the hospital for a post-mortem. My dad had to take him there. He came right round to tell me, as soon as he could. I knew before Craig’s mum – isn’t that terrible? It was the police that told her.’

David sat down heavily. ‘My mum saw him,’ he said. ‘She thought it might be me.’

She had stayed with David for another hour. Slowly, they’d worked through the initial shock,
remembering Craig at his best, acknowledging that he might have been right about the drugs – though Susie refused to talk much about that, and David was happy not to press her. When she left, Susie had been tearfully appreciative of David’s attentions. ‘You’ve made all the difference,’ she told him.

He shrugged diffidently. ‘It could have been me,’ he said. ‘Makes you think, doesn’t it?’

‘I haven’t seen him,’ she said quietly. ‘Dad said he might be able to fix it tomorrow, so I can.’

‘You don’t want to do that,’ David assured her. ‘He’ll be all – bruised. Messed about.’

‘I know, but I still want to. It can’t be as bad as what I’m imagining. Will you come with me, Dave? Is that too much to ask?’

‘Jesus,’ he groaned. ‘I’m not sure I’m up for that.’

‘You don’t have to look at him,’ she hastened. ‘Just take me there and bring me back again. Dad offered, but he didn’t even like Craig. It wouldn’t be right, somehow. You were his friend.’

‘Yeah,’ David acknowledged. ‘I was. What time are you thinking of?’

‘Eleven, twelve. Something like that.’ They’d agreed on twelve, and David had done as she asked. He was now sitting miserably in an open
waiting area with a scattering of other people, all of them forlornly waiting for something or someone.

Susie had asked at the main desk for a name her father had given her, and after ten minutes a man had arrived to escort her. He had not looked happy, and as they walked, he addressed her in an earnest tone, bending close to her ear, obviously trying to talk her out of her intention. David watched with minimal curiosity, wondering how long she would be, and what sort of a state she’d be in when she came back. The idea of voluntarily putting herself through such a grim exercise horrified him. The physical reality of Craig’s death was something he wanted to banish as quickly as possible; he preferred not to think about how it had been achieved; what it felt like having the weight of your body dragging the rough rope around your neck tighter and tighter, until there was no hope of reversing the process. He knew he lacked the imagination to comprehend how it had been, and was thankful for his own deficiency.

Fifteen minutes passed, and he was seized with the desire for a smoke. The only place he could do that was outside, so he got up and went out through the big automatic doors, positioning himself where he could see the corridor down which Susie had disappeared.
There wasn’t much danger of missing her. She knew where his car was, in any case.

Drawing deeply on the cigarette, he leant against a low stone wall, and watched a white car drive up and park next to a large sign saying ‘
KEEP CLEAR – AMBULANCES PARK HERE
.’ David laughed to himself.
Some people
, he thought.
Either arrogant or stupid
. When a young blonde woman jumped out of the driving seat, he concluded it was the latter.

Her passenger climbed out of the car more slowly, something bulky and white wrapped round his hand. David recognised him as a chap who’d been in Philip’s form at school, but couldn’t remember his name. Something to do with cars or garages. He’d been a prefect when David was a runty little second year, and there’d been a bit of trouble over David smoking in the bogs.
Dunlop!
He remembered suddenly. Pity he wouldn’t recall the incident – David would have enjoyed a defiant drag on his cigarette, right under the bloke’s nose.

The woman bent down to speak to a child on the back seat, and then ushered Dunlop into the square opening that led to Accident and Emergency.
Doesn’t look badly hurt
, David decided.

‘Here I am,’ announced a small voice at his elbow. Susie was tear-stained and unsteady. The
man who had taken her to the mortuary was with her.

‘Look, I’ve got to go now,’ he said. ‘But I think she could do with a cup of tea. The canteen’s open. I suggest you go and get something, before going home.’

David shrugged accommodatingly. He wasn’t in any hurry, and Susie certainly did look rough.

The canteen was serving lunch, and they ended up with a plateful of sausages and chips each. ‘I can’t possibly eat anything,’ said Susie miserably. ‘I don’t know why I let you get this for me.’ Then she picked up a chip in her fingers and ate it. ‘Mmm,’ she corrected herself ruefully. ‘Maybe I can, after all.’ After a few minutes, she added, ‘Good thing my mum isn’t working today. She’s the last person I want to see just now.’

‘She never was too keen on Craig,’ David commented.

‘Silly old cow. I bet you anything, she’ll say something guaranteed to upset me, the minute I do see her. She’ll be rehearsing it as we speak.’

‘That’s mothers for you,’ he sympathised gloomily before tackling his own lunch with some relish. Organising his own meals had been the most difficult part of living away from home, and he could go days without turning on the cooker or opening a tin. Packets of
crisps, sandwiches from the corner shop, beer, chocolate, an occasional apple; this had been his basic diet since leaving Jim and Monica’s care.