To Catch a Creeper (24 page)

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Authors: Ellie Campbell

BOOK: To Catch a Creeper
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‘So what’s the POA?’

Saturday morning and Pimple’s on the phone for the third time already. If I’m a general, she’s my sergeant major.

‘Plan of Action? Mmm. Let’s see.’ I refer to my clipboard. ‘At the moment we’ve nine volunteers, including ourselves, checking out ten victims, apart from Red and Purple Jumper who’re doing the solicitors between them, on the pretext of revising their wills.’ They said it was about time anyway. ‘Me who’s already visited the vet and is booked in for the dentist Monday.’ I mentally buff my nails. Well, as team leader I need to set an example. At least that’s what Declan used to say when he worked all hours at Wilson Inc. ‘If I don’t work these ridiculously long unsociable hours, none of my team will follow’ kind of talk.

Lead By Example,
his
motto, has become
my
motto now.

‘Norman’s got no-one left to investigate,’ I continue. ‘Although he promised to go through the file with a fine toothcomb to see if I might have missed something.’

‘And I’ve sounded out Henrietta,’ Pimple reports. ‘She’s pitched for the young couple and the single mother. Being younger herself it makes sense. She’s going to start with the Holmes Place gym, move onto the mother and toddler group run by the church, and then if no joy with either of those, she’ll take a trip around the pubs, Muswell Hill nightclubs and other late night drinking dens.’

‘A fair amount to take on.’

‘I know, but she wants out of the house as much as possible, what with the way things are between her and Neil.’

‘She told you about their arguments?’

‘Oh yes, dearie. Everyone confides in me.’

‘I guess they do,’ I say thoughtfully. It’s because she has a listening ear, that’s why. She never rushes off halfway through a conversation or looks bored or starts texting like others do. Pimple has time for everybody. ‘Isobel said she’d ask her dad to keep his nose to the ground and she’ll also try nabbing the housewife and mother in the playground. Janet’s covering the dead banker.’

‘Through her friend?’

‘Correct.’ She catches on quick. Not just motherly, a good ear and always bringing me little cakey gifts, but clever as well. ‘She said she’d co-ordinate with him tomorrow. And if he throws up blanks, then we always have Norman to fall back on.’

‘As he knows the wife’s cousin?’

‘Correct again.’ See. Obviously read up on the file.

‘So how’s Declan? Still none the wiser about your…you know…’

‘Yeah, although there was a sticky moment during supper last night. Sophie must have overheard me chatting to my broker…’

We were all seated round the table like a normal proper family, Declan had just served up a marinated courgette and string bean goulash with new potatoes and green salad, and I’d poured out two large glasses of white wine when Sophie out of the blue said.

‘What’s suspended mean?’

‘Oh…’ I quickly replied, ‘I think you mean suspenders. It’s an item of clothing ladies used to wear and guys used to get excited about. But they’re all way behind us now – what with the invention of tights – thank God. No need to trouble yourself.’

‘Are you sure…?’ Declan began.

‘Yes, and then in the States suspenders are braces, used for holding their trousers or rather pants up. Sophie’s doing a project on Victorians,’ I explained. ‘Clothes and things…’

‘No,’ she protested, ‘I’m…’

‘Now, now,’ I scolded. ‘No talking with your mouth full. Come on, eat up. Joshie, elbows off the table. Daddy’s chickens might have wings but you don’t. Oh, is that something burning or has one of the new ring burners been left on?’

Declan then dashed off to check, I speedily moved the conversation onto Henry VIII and so by the time he’d come back we were in deep conversation about Hampton Court Palace, with particular emphasis on the maze.

‘I think I got away with it,’ I inform Pimple. ‘Anyway, let’s not discuss my husband, it’s too depressing. What about Dr Luna? Can you handle him OK?’

‘He’s not on duty until Tuesday but I’ll speak to the receptionists meanwhile.’

‘Brill.’ I place a tick against his name and make a brief note.

‘Gay bars?’ Pimple sounds like she’s writing too. I can hear little scratching noises.

‘Janet’s covering those. As for the other members of the Watch, Shilpa rang me this morning and she was going to pop… Oh there’s another call coming in. Hold on a sec.’

‘Believe I might have something,’ Shilpa sounds excited. ‘Landlord has information. Could be vital.’

***

‘In here?’

Poor Sophie. Monday five p.m. and she thought she was going out for a special treat, a shopping expedition with her mum. I will take her somewhere afterwards but if I’d informed her of my intended destination, I’d have ended up dragging her down the street. She’s terrified of dentists to almost phobic proportions. Last time I mentioned she was due a check-up, she didn’t sleep for two nights. I know it’s deceitful, but I’m being cruel to be kind. One dentist we visited threw his surgical gloves across the room halfway through her filling and refused to carry on. Mind you she had sunk her teeth into his arm. Another suggested sedation, which was a road I wasn’t too keen to wander down, just in case it incited a drugs habit in later years.

But this last guy, Mr Peasman, has a nice bedside manner, so Isobel says (she has the same problem with her middle child).

I mean, this visit is for Sophie, honestly, just it happens to come at a time when the investigations are in full force and one of the victims happens to be…well, Mr Peasman. Anyways the more times I take Sophie, the more she’ll get accustomed to going. That’s what Isobel advised. To gradually and repeatedly expose her to what she fears in a safe and controlled way. Which is what this is. It’s not like I’m using her or anything… OK, well only a tiny bit.

I survey the queue in front of me, about five people, with only one receptionist to deal with them all.

As I wait, with a firm grip on Sophie’s hand, I find myself reflecting on yesterday’s phone calls, and in particular Shilpa’s revelations.

‘’Cept last time we spoke you said the vet was sh…selling up,’ she’d slurred.

‘Yes. And?’

The sound of slurping, clinking glasses and raucous laughter echoed in the background. ‘Well, the landlord, he’s moving house too.’

‘He is?’

‘I asked him what the Creeper took and he said not a great deal, as most of his belongings were in storage and I asked why and he told me that…’

‘He doesn’t live in the pub?’

‘Seems not, although he does have one of his barmen renting. Yes, another half, Norm, love. Ooh and some pork scratchings if you can run to it?’

‘Name?’

‘Whose name?’

‘The barman who’s renting.’

‘Oh, don’t know. I’ll find out. Do you think it means anything?’
Hic
.

‘Can’t really say at this point.’ It wasn’t any good making assumptions, not yet. ‘But it’s a good start. Well done.’

‘May I help you?’ The dental receptionist’s looking at me with her head cocked to one side and I realise I’m now head of the queue. I give her Sophie’s details.

‘He won’t be long.’ She taps at her keyboard. ‘Take a seat. They’ll call you.’

We wander through to the waiting room where I encourage Sophie to look at the calming fish tank they have there.

‘I don’t want to look at a calming fish tank!’ She folds her arms defiantly. ‘I don’t
want
to go to the dentist
at all
!’

‘It’s only a check-up.’

‘But they’re going to prod me with hooks and hurt my mouth.’ Her eyes fill with tears.

‘Oh, Sophie,’ I rub her shoulder but she shrugs my hand off, ‘it’s going to be all right, I promise. I promise I won’t let him hurt you.’

‘Be careful what you promise.’ The woman next to me nudges my arm. ‘Never know what’ll happen.’

Her left eye is squashed up into a little slit by her bloated left cheek. Quasimodo meets the Incredible Hulk.

‘I’ve had implants done,’ she says. ‘Titanium.’

‘Oh.’

‘And my face has swollen up, that’s why I’ve come back. They never told me.’

‘That’s terrible. Look at the fish, Sophie. The way he goes in and out of the little arch.’

‘They never told me the pain I’d be in neither. It’s been agony, absolute ruddy agony.’

‘Yes, I’m sure it has.’ I grab a magazine and begin flicking through. ‘Oh check out this recipe, Sophie. Mussels in white wine sauce. Mmm. Shall we have them for supper tonight?’


Gross
.’

‘They gave me antibiotics and pain killers but they didn’t help. It’s been like this almost a week. Drilled right into the bone, they did. I could hear all these crunching and grating noises. They were going to sedate me but when I found out it would cost an extra…’

I have to stop her.

‘Oh, well, what about that burglar then?’ I blurt out. ‘A mystery, eh?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Crouch End Creeper. Any thoughts?’

‘Not really,’ she says, obviously miffed I’m cutting her gory story off. ‘Only…’

‘Only what?’

‘Just I did think it was rather bizarre that none of the robberies were committed in the morning.’

‘They weren’t?’

‘Nope. They were at different times of day and night, all right, but none before noon.’

‘Anything else?’ I pull my notebook from my bag.

‘Sophie O’Farrell,’ a woman in a white coat calls out. ‘They’re ready for you.’

***

‘Can you put these goggles on, Sophie, please?’ The nurse hands her what looks like a pair of overlarge sunglasses, bottle green while Mr Peasman pumps the chair a few times causing Sophie’s horizontal body to rise a couple of inches.

‘Do you mind if I sit beside her?’

‘Not at all,’ the nurse says sweetly.

I take Sophie’s hand and whisper quietly in her left ear. ‘Just squeeze if it hurts, darling. I’ll get him to stop.’

She digs her nails into my wrist. It hurts.

‘At least wait until he starts,’ I hiss. She pokes out her tongue.

Sweet revenge.

I sit quietly while the dentist starts dictating numbers and words I don’t understand. Just like the vet, I muse. That’s what happens when you’re a professional, you can say words that no-one understands apart from others in your profession. Must make you feel very special.

The nurse is perched now in front of a computer screen.

‘Right, Margaret, we’ll carry on with the bottom. Lower right three…partial eruption…missing…occlusion…’

Mr Peasman’s got the most soft hypnotic voice I think I’ve ever heard, and at one point I close my eyes and almost nod off until Sophie’s sharp nail digs into my wrist again. Oh well, you know if I’m here anyway…

‘Nice place, Crouch End,’ I start.

‘Mmm.’

‘Been here long?’

‘Since nine a.m.’

‘I meant Crouch End?’ It’s safe to assume he’s an outsider. Everyone born and bred in Crouch End, or Hornsey as it was known before the hordes of yuppies arrived, has long sold up and cashed in.

‘Five years.’

‘Me and my husband, we’ve lived here ten years. Well about ten years. Maybe ten and a half.’ I start working it out with my fingers.

‘Uh huh.’ He gets a small stick-like object and runs it around Sophie’s gums.

‘Yeah, we scraped together for the mortgage.’

‘Uh huh.’ He begins checking her neck. ‘Almost done, Sophie. You’ve been very brave.’

‘But you know…these burglaries, eh, make you think twice.’

‘Don’t I know it,’ he says grimly.

‘Oh?’

‘Oh, what?’

‘You said it like it had affected you personally.’

‘Did I?’ He looks surprised as he takes off his mask and begins pumping Sophie down again. ‘Well I guess because it’s because it has. I was one of the so called “victims” they’re talking about in the
Hornsey and Crouch End Journal
. You can rinse out now.’

‘You were a victim? Gosh!’ I open my eyes wide in what I hope is the appropriate expression of astonishment. ‘That’s news. You know they got a friend of mine too.’ All right I know the vet wasn’t a friend, but if she cheered up a bit and cut down her fees, she might turn into one. Especially if Tic-Tac keeps being sick like he has. I have a two second daydream of us both in Starbucks, enjoying cappuccinos together, chatting about his various ailments. ‘Police not been helpful?’

‘Never saw them. Except for a team of forensics. And that was useless. The guy’s too clever. No prints.’

‘Shame.’

‘Oh it was easy for him. We back onto Priory Park. Anyone could have just jumped over the fence from our rear garden.’

‘That’s the problem with Barrington Road.’

‘How do you know I live in Barrington Road?’ He looks at me suspiciously as does Sophie, who spits a mouthful of pink liquid into the bowl.

‘I didn’t. I mean…I just know Barrington Road is one of the roads that back onto Priory Park. Lucky guess. I could just have easily have said, “Middle Lane”, not that there’s too many houses on that side. Or “Priory Road” but you don’t really look like a Priory Road type of person or…’

‘Anyway, he’s not getting us twice.’ Thankfully he doesn’t dig deeper and instead pumps Sophie up again. ‘We’re moving.’

‘You are?’

He puts on his mask again. ‘Down to Somerset. Where I came from originally.’

‘Thought I detected a West Country burr. So you’ve sold up?’

‘Well almost,’ he mumbles. ‘Bloody buyers let us down last minute. Had a touch of subsidence last year and the last bunch got scared off by the surveyors’ report. Oh, it’s all fixed up now but it sure blights a property. They blame the wisteria.’

‘Aw, but wisteria’s lovely.’

‘Everyone wants to blame something, don’t they? Not bad.’

‘Not bad?’

‘Sophie’s teeth. Nothing needed today.’ He undoes the Velcro on her plastic pinny while the nurse removes Sophie’s eye protectors.

‘You can rinse out again, dear,’ she says gently.

‘So no fillings?’ I smile at Sophie as she leaves the chair. ‘That’s nice, isn’t it, dear?’

‘Although she has a touch of erosion. Do you drink fizzy drinks, Sophie?’

‘Sometimes,’ Sophie admits. ‘Mummy buys them for me.’

I glare at her. Snitch. ‘She asks for them,’ I say in my defence as the nurse scowls at me.

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