The Collared Collection (23 page)

When Doris heard their footsteps crunching up the gravel path, she swung open the front door, ‘In you come, ladies, May and me have just finished having a little tidy.’ She took the roses Callie was carrying. ‘Well, aren’t those beautiful!’

‘They were Ginny’s favourite,’ she said, her bad humour dissipating.

Susan looked around. ‘My goodness!’ she exclaimed, ‘I think we must be in the wrong house, it’s so neat and … well, gleaming – and you’ve laid out tables for the food and set up the bar! Thank you very much, both of you – Callie and I won’t have much to do now.’

May poked her head around the kitchen door, beaming. ‘It’s our pleasure, isn’t it Doris – we was both very fond of Miss Ginny and her father before her.’

Callie couldn’t help smiling at the ‘Miss Ginny’, knowing how it made Ginny wince. It occurred to her that Doris and May must have been with Montague’s since the year dot.

Doris laid the roses on the hall table, ‘We best be going now, May. Arthur will be wondering where I’ve got to – and he goes into a sulk when I’m late … typical male. Arthur’s my cat,’ she added by way of explanation, for the benefit of Callie and Susan.

‘Right you are, Doris – I’ll just get my cardigan.’

Doris grabbed her hand and squeezed. ‘We’ll be back bright and early tomorrow morning, Callie, to make sure everything runs ship-shape. We won’t need this anymore, though.’ She handed over Susan’s spare key, which she slipped into her pocket for safekeeping.

‘Bye for now – and thank you both so much, ladies.’ She waved them off; two dumpy old dears, waddling along the pavement together, nattering nineteen to the dozen – and noted their almost-matching, loud print polyester dresses, belted around where their waists used to be. She promised herself she’d never buy one.

Susan said, ‘I’ll go up and change – then I’d better cut the grass so the garden looks as good as the house. Those two are miracle workers; I don’t know how we’d manage without them.’

Callie agreed, ‘Yes, they’re real troupers. I’ll take the flowers into the kitchen – shall I put the kettle on while I’m there?’

‘Please, I won’t be long.’

She found the teabags in Susan’s shiny kitchen and was waiting for the water to boil, when the doorbell chimed loud and long. And again.

She called up the stairs, ‘Shall I get that?’ but Susan didn’t hear.

As she walked toward the door, she noticed May’s shopping bag on the hall table; the flowers that Doris laid there would have obscured it from view so that it was forgotten, and now May had come back to stake her claim. She grabbed it on her way past.

Opening the door, she dangled it forward, ‘Here you a … oh, it’s you.’ It wasn’t the Colander Girls at all, but Sally Stephens, dressed in civvies – damn, by then Callie had forgotten she was coming. Sally stood motionless, staring at her bug-eyed. Rude cow, Callie thought.

She said, ‘You’d better come in,’ sounding less than inviting, she realised, though she wasn’t unduly concerned. ‘I was just making tea, would you like one?’

‘Ben … Ben-eh …’ she said, her lips moving strangely – all rubbery, as if in slow motion. It crossed her mind that Sally might be a closet alcoholic.

‘What? Why don’t you come in?’ She was already trying her patience, dithering on the doorstep. Sally opened her mouth again, but no sound came out. She fell straight forward, over the doormat – Callie now understood why she looked so peculiar. There was a large knife embedded up to its hilt between her shoulder blades and wet blood seeping a bright red stain into her shirt.

Callie jumped backwards, hitting the sore area of her face with May’s woven bag.

‘Susan!’ she shrieked, ‘Susan! Come quickly!’

She heard the toilet flush and Susan came tearing down the stairs, still zipping up the fly on her jeans. She stopped dead in her tracks, ‘Oh Christ! Who the hell is that?’ She ran to Sally and knelt to feel for a pulse in her neck, while Callie stood rooted to the spot, feeling useless.

‘I think she might be dead,’ Susan whispered, ‘I’ll call for an ambulance – no, wait … help me pull her in first and I’ll lock the door. You make sure the back is bolted … and all the windows. We don’t know if whoever did this is still out there.’

Now Callie was really frightened.

Susan summoned an ambulance then asked her for David’s number. Callie was about to reel it off, when she recalled Sally’s strange message on the doorstep – what if she was trying to warn her? If she knew – as she surely must – those were to be her dying words, she wouldn’t want to waste them, would she? Think, Callie! She’d said Ben something, Ben-eh … which could only mean one thing, as far as she was concerned. Bennett! She was trying to warn her about David! Had David stabbed her? Why would he do that? Had she found out something deeply incriminating about him, so that he had no choice but to silence her?

Gulping down a bubbling cauldron of hysteria that made her want to scream the place down, she calmly suggested, ‘Don’t call him just yet, Susan. Here, I’ve got Mike Durant’s number in my mobile. He’s a good guy – ring him.’

Chapter Thirty-seven

Any pang of sorrow she might have felt for Sally’s violent demise was completely obliterated by the festering doubts she had about David – and the worry of how she was going to reorganise tomorrow’s wake at this late stage – in pretty much equal measure.

No amount of pathetic pleading on her part would sway Mike from his (quite correct, she conceded) decision that Susan’s house and garden must be treated as a crime scene and would be preserved as such. That rather put paid to anything up to a hundred corrupting mourners traipsing up the path to enter the house the following afternoon, after the ceremony. Mike had finished grilling Callie and moved on to Susan, who had morphed from Miss Super-Efficient to a stone statue, presumably when the shocking realisation of what had happened sank in. It hadn’t hit Callie yet – she was too absorbed in panicking about what to do to salvage Ginny’s send-off.

Her mobile rang and David’s name illuminated on the screen. If she cut him off, she’d only have to talk to him later … ‘Hello?’ Unoriginal, but she couldn’t think what else to say without betraying her anxiety.

‘Callie, are you alright?’ His tone was clipped and he sounded harassed.

‘I’m fine, but you’ve heard about Sally?’

‘Just – I’m caught up at my old station. There’s an unexpected development in a case I worked on here and I need to see it through. I’m really sorry, I’ve no idea when I’ll be able to get away.’

She felt relief rush through her, ‘No sweat, Mike is here and of course Susan – plus a couple of thousand Bobbies. Amazing how there’s no shortage of manpower or resources when the victim is one of your own.’ She realised then just how bitter and twisted she felt about being hung out to dry.

‘You sound really odd – are you sure you’re OK?’

‘I’m a big girl and after all, this isn’t the first dead body I’ve encountered lately – I’m becoming quite blasé about stiffs.’

There was a long pause, during which she could practically hear the thoughts whirring through his head. ‘Look, I’m worried about you, Callie, I’m coming over.’

She shouted, making those around her jump and stare, ‘No! I’m alright. Get on with what you have to do. I’ll see you when I see you. Bye.’ She ended the call before he had a chance to respond. Her mind was made up, everything was clear …

She had to wait a long time for Mike’s attention. ‘I’m going to hold the wake at Ginny’s place,’ she told him, finally.

He looked doubtful. ‘It’s a bit small, isn’t it?’

‘I’ve no alternative – chambers are a non-starter because it would be so impractical, the pub where we had Bernard’s party is already booked, my house is a building site … and I can’t think of anywhere else. I’m running out of time. The funeral cortège is leaving from there anyway – now we’ll go back there afterwards too. People will just have to breathe in – and with that number of bodies milling around, no one will notice I haven’t dusted.’

‘If you say so …’

‘I need a favour, though – there’s a whole load of stuff here at Susan’s that I need to transport to Ginny’s. Can you help me out there?’

He scratched his chin, chewed on her request briefly, and then went to speak to members of the boiler suit brigade. When he returned, wearing his big grin, she knew everything would be alright. ‘SOCO will carry out everything you need and load as many squad cars as necessary – they’ll ferry it over to Ginny’s.’

She stretched to peck him on the cheek, ‘Thanks so much, Mike. I know nothing should be touched, strictly speaking.’

‘Anything for Ginny,’ he said sadly, ‘but don’t tell the boss.’

‘David? Actually, I need to have a word …’

One of the uniformed PCs called Mike over. He held up a hand to them in acknowledgement. ‘Excuse me, Callie, I’ll be right back …’

Of course, he wasn’t; she spent the next hour or more ringing around the partners and anyone else she could think of, to advise them of the change of venue after the service; they were short, to-the-point conversations steered by her to avoid long explanations. Most importantly, she gave Karen the new address and apologised profusely to Doris and May for their wasted Herculean efforts.

She sat down beside Susan, who was looking a little sickly, on a vermilion loveseat.

‘Will you come and stay with me at Ginny’s tonight?’ she asked.

‘Oh, I was going to go over to Peter’s … but yes, I can do that – I haven’t rung him yet, so he’s not expecting me. I thought you were staying at David’s flat?’

‘He’s tied up – I’m hoping Mike will stay over with us … if not, it’s just you and me, kid.’

Susan managed a weak smile, ‘That’s fine … isn’t it awful, what happened to Sally?’

‘I didn’t think you knew her.’

‘No, I didn’t … but she died in my house – I feel somehow responsible. Did she say anything before she died?’

‘Nothing,’ she lied. She couldn’t bear to get into that now.

‘I’ll go and pack a bag.’

‘Good. Mike looks as though he’s winding things up now – shouldn’t be long before our convoy can hit the road. Will you drive, or come with me in Mike’s car?’

‘I’ll hitch a lift, if he doesn’t mind – I still feel a bit too jittery to be in sole charge of a combustion engine.’

‘I know what you mean – see you in a bit.’

‘What’s going on?’ Mike demanded.

Callie’s voice came out too squeaky to be convincing. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

He and Susan had helped her arrange tables where boxes of plates and booze could be parked. She decided because she was too whacked to finish up then, she’d get up early and do the rest in the morning – Mike was staying over and had offered to help, as had Susan, who had excused herself and gone to bed – now she was going to get the third degree.

‘Oh, I think you do. Why have you collected enough clothes from David’s to hold a jumble sale? He’s only been delayed, he’ll be back later. In fact, he’s probably home by now.’

To tell or not to tell? She couldn’t phone a friend and had to decide – Mike had obviously smelled a rat when she asked him to take a quick detour to David’s, en route for Ginny’s. He’d looked either puzzled or worried then, she wasn’t sure which, but he’d refrained from interrogating her at that stage. Assuming she didn’t tell him the truth, how was she going to wiggle her way out of this tight spot?

Inspiration deserted her in her hour of need. ‘I was frightened by what happened to Sally.’

Though he almost smiled, she could tell he wasn’t going to buy that. ‘That doesn’t answer my question.’ He paced up and down the kitchen, which only took a couple of strides each way with his long legs. ‘Obviously you were scared, who wouldn’t be? So, why aren’t you tucked up in bed with David? There’s no safer place to be, I should have thought.’

Damn. ‘Ah, I see your point. It’s, err … hard to explain.’

‘Try me.’

‘Couldn’t we retire gracefully and I’ll tell you in the morning?’

‘Not a chance, I want to know why you’re behaving like this. And I want to know now.’

His face had hardened, his jaw was clenched; those twinkling brown eyes that had so beguiled Ginny drilled into Callie, wanting an answer. Oh crap.

There was nothing else for it. ‘I was worried by what Sally said …’ She hoped he’d draw his own conclusions, without her having to spell it out.

‘Ben?’

‘Ben-eh, actually.’

‘And? What’s so bad about that? What’s to worry about?’

Was he being intentionally obtuse? ‘Well what can you make from that? There aren’t that many interpretations …’

He twigged, threw up his hands and became very agitated. ‘You can’t be serious, Callie! You think Sally was trying to point the finger at David?’ His voice was fast notching its way up to a yell, ‘Jesus Christ, woman! There could be any number of explanations, but you immediately jump to the conclusion that she was implicating the one person who’s looking out for you in all this?’ He shook his head slowly in disbelief, maybe despair.

She flapped her hands. ‘Shh! You’ll wake Susan.’

‘So what? You are something else, you really are!’

She felt she had to reason with him, get her point of perspective across. ‘I know David’s your friend, Mike, and he – well, both of you – have been great throughout this whole mess. I don’t know what I’d have done without your support …’

He glared. ‘I can tell there’s a “but” coming.’

‘Put yourself in my position … I don’t know David that well – or you, for that matter. I have some lunatic after me and I don’t have a clue who it is – people keep dying all around me and I’m shit scared!’ At that point, the tears she’d been fighting off for hours started to fall. She wailed, ‘I’m sorry, Mike, but Sally was so anxious to tell me something important she used her dying breath to do that – and until I know what it was, I don’t feel I can trust anyone – David in particular, as it could have been his name Sally was trying to say.’ At that point she really started to cry.

He stood perfectly still for a moment, then moved to put his arms around her. ‘It’s OK, Callie, I think I understand.’ He held her close, stroking her hair. When his phone rang in his pocket, they both started. He answered, ‘Yes, mate?’