Who Wants to Live Forever? (12 page)

“Several witnesses did see him in the pub earlier in the evening, Debbie, but none could remember when he left. They noted that he was in a foul temper and just let him be. Besides, most knew about his wife’s shenanigans, and reasoned that, if he had found out about them, they didn’t want to be within an arm’s length of him in case he erupted.”

“Okay, Louise. But he also said he collapsed in a drunken stupor — in a corner, I think you said. So did anybody find him when it came to closing time? Or had he mysteriously disappeared?”

“Now that you mention it, Debbie, I don’t think anybody could corroborate that part of his story. Perhaps he meant he staggered into an alley and collapsed there.”

“But that isn’t what he said, is it?” Debbie took the factsheets out and skimmed through them. “There. It said he collapsed in a corner. Or are you suggesting that this woman took him outside, left him somewhere while she killed his wife, then went back and dragged him into the pub after it was shut so that when he woke, he’d think he’d been there all night? And what about the O’Hara woman? Did anybody see her talking to him?”

“As far as she was concerned, nobody wanted to say much at all. As I’ve already said, they looked down on her anyway. Perhaps she was one of those sorts who is almost invisible in their actions?”

“That’s a little
too
convenient, don’t you think, Louise?”

I had to admit that Debbie made some good points, and she put them across forcefully. But something she had said triggered a response from me. “Debbie,” I interrupted, “I think you could be on to something there. Not intentionally, I appreciate, but you could still have hit on it.”

“Oh,” said Debbie, sounding puzzled. “What did I say?”

“That part about Maeve dragging him out. In fact, the whole Maeve thing. You see, if he was in as bad a mood as has been suggested, and if he was a burly coal miner, I can well understand the customers in the bar paying no attention to him. In fact, they would likely keep well out of his sight in case he tried to pick a fight with one of them. So it is quite likely that, if Maeve did come and sit with him at a corner table, nobody would have taken any notice. Besides, there would have been so much tobacco smoke that it’s doubtful that anybody could see more than a few feet in any direction — unlike today’s smoke-free and atmosphere-free pubs.”

Debbie didn’t say anything, perhaps considering the possibility of truth in my words, but Trish did speak. “I know you mentioned it last week, but I didn’t think you were
still
a smoker, Ethan. Do you miss the old pubs where you could chew the atmosphere?”

“No, I’m not, and no, I don’t. But neither do I enjoy having the nanny state decide what is good for me and everybody else. I can make up my own mind about such things.”

“Good,” said Trish. “Not that I’ve anything against people who smoke, but I’m happier with people who don’t. Coming back to what you said, I can see what you’re getting at, and it does make sense. I’ve been in packed pubs plenty of times, but ask me who else is in there and I wouldn’t have a clue. And that’s without tobacco smoke clouding the issue. But that still doesn’t explain what happened to Jeremiah. Why didn’t anybody find him in the corner of the pub if that’s where he said he was? And—”

“Because he didn’t actually say that was where he was,” interrupted a quiet voice.

“Go on, Emma,” said Louise. “You haven’t said much tonight. I was wondering if everything was all right.”

“I’ve something on my mind, that’s all.” I noticed that she flicked her eyes nervously across the room — only half looking at the rest of us but her glance lingered perhaps a fraction too long on Gail — before expanding on her interruption. “From what it says here,” she said, holding up the A4 sheet, “Jeremiah didn’t say he collapsed in the pub. He says he collapsed in a
corner
, but that could have been any corner. Unless, of course, this is only a summarised report of the actual case.”

Louise looked thoughtful. “No, I’ve given you the report as I read it. It definitely just said a
corner
. I just assumed he meant the pub, but you’re right, he would have been found if that were the case, and that would have been his alibi. So perhaps he
was
taken outside, as Debbie said—”

“I wasn’t being serious,” she interrupted.

“Maybe you weren’t,” I said, “but you might also have hit on the truth. If Maeve did help him out, he could have fallen in a corner of the alley, where nobody would have found him. By the time he came round, his wife was dead, Maeve had disappeared, and he would find himself as the only suspect.”

I thought Debbie would have been pleased that her light-hearted suggestion now looked a possibility, but when I looked at her she didn’t appear to be happy at all. Had I stolen her thunder? Did she think I was trying to take the credit for making a possible breakthrough on this case? After the progress we had made last week, now I felt as if a barrier had been erected between us. Then she smiled, and the spell was broken. “Yes,” she said, “it does kind of make sense when you put it that way.”

The conversation continued for several minutes as we discussed the relative merits of the various theories, but, as Louise said, we needed to look at the whole rather than the isolated part. As we packed up ready to leave, Louise broke my jocular mood. Once again, Emma headed off immediately, looking nervously behind her all the time, and Gail hurried to pack up as if she wanted to keep her in sight at all times.

“Remember,” Louise said, “there isn’t a class next week as it’s half-term and the college is closed.”

I groaned. Although we’d been told about the break when we enrolled, and we’d even discussed it while we were at the pub a couple of weeks earlier, I’d completely forgotten about it.

“It can’t be that bad,” said Trish, linking arms with me as we walked out. “Anyway, I know the perfect remedy: a nice cold glass of lager in good company at a local hostelry.”

“Yep, I’m all for that too,” added Debbie, and I noticed a slight look of something that I took to be disappointment cross Trish’s face. “How about you, Gail? Are you joining us this week?”

Gail had finished packing her things away and was clearly in a hurry. “No, I’m afraid I won’t be able to. As I said before, we’re flying out to Chicago tomorrow and I’ve a lot to get ready yet.”

“Tomorrow?” I asked. “I thought you told us you were flying out on Friday, the twenty-first.”

“No, I distinctly remember saying it was the day after the course and we were going for ten days. Now I must be off. Enjoy your drink, you three.”

“Bye, Gail,” we answered in unison. “Have a good trip,” I added, before the three of us looked quizzically at each other.

“Fancy getting the date wrong! It must be an age thing. Come on, it’s time for a drink.”

“I suppose you’re right,” I said. “It must be all those Friday murders that made me think she was flying out on a Friday as well.”

Debbie strolled onwards and Trish and I joined her as we wound our merry way to the pub.

***

In a change from the previous week, Trish said she’d get the first drink in. While she was at the bar, Debbie and I found a table. Once again, she had made it clear that she didn’t want to talk about the murders tonight, but we had plenty of other things to discuss. “So what do you think is up with Gail and Emma?” she asked. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at them, and I guess you’ve a fairly good idea.”

I felt a little awkward. All of my assumptions were just that: pure guesses on my part. “I’ve a few thoughts,” I said, “but they aren’t based on anything factual, so I’d rather not say, if that’s all right?”

I wondered if she might be affronted at my refusal to answer, but, in total contrast, she leant forward and hugged me. “I’m so glad you said that. It’s nice to know that there are still people around who you can trust with your secrets.”

“So you’ve got secrets, have you? Tell me more.”

“Then they wouldn’t be secrets, would they? Perhaps when we get to know each other a little better, eh? Don’t you agree, Trish?”

“Certainly,” came the reply. I hadn’t noticed her return with the drinks and wondered how much she’d heard — and seen. “Ethan can try and discover my secrets any time.”

“That’s fine by me,” I replied. I smiled. Here I was, in a pub with two attractive women friends, and we were flirting together. A month ago, I would certainly never have thought that could happen. I wondered what Julie would think of her old dad if she walked in right now.

“What’s so funny, Ethan?” asked Debbie.

“Yes, share the joke,” added Trish.

“Oh, it’s nothing really. Just life, I suppose. I was wondering what my daughter would think of me right now.”

“I think she’d be very proud of you,” said Trish, leaning forward and hugging me. I realised that she must have seen Debbie’s hug a few moments earlier.

The flirtatious nature of the evening continued, but I began to detect a slight tension between Debbie and Trish, and however hard I tried I was unable to break it. Even so, we had a pleasant evening, and I was sad as we said our goodbyes and headed for home in our separate directions.

During the walk home, I pondered the nature of friendship. I was trying not to look too far ahead — it was silly to think in terms of wedding bells and happiness ever after — but I allowed myself to think about how the situation might be in a couple of months’ time. The course would be over then, whatever its conclusion was, but I would hope to still be in touch with my new-found friends.

I doubted that Emma could ever be a close friend — there was just too big a difference in our ages for that to ever be seen as natural. Even though I would never think of her as anything other than a kind of daughter, I knew many people would not be able to accept such a relationship.

When I thought of Gail, despite the fact that I had questioned the accuracy of her facts, I knew I would still like to be in touch with her. I suppose my curiosity was part fascination on my behalf, as I wanted to know just
why
she behaved the way she did, but that didn’t mean I didn’t like her for herself.

My thoughts about Trish and Debbie were more or less the same as a week earlier. I would love to have them both as friends, but I had detected that tension during the evening. I remembered my thought about being a
third wheel
right at the beginning of the course. Was each woman now seeing the other in that way? I hoped not, because if they did I could see myself getting stuck in the middle of something rather unpleasant.

***

As I had done the week earlier, on returning to my flat I read through all the factsheets concerning the murders as a means of taking my mind off the brewing tension between Trish and Debbie. I opened the notebook where I had scrawled the information about the first three cases and added
Virginia Lee, 1944
to the list. Nothing jumped out at me; there wasn’t even an inkling of a
Eureka!
moment. All I had managed to ‘discover’ so far was that the murders took place in years that were divisible by eleven. Louise had told me to discard the Friday link, as that wouldn’t apply to future cases. If Julie could see me struggling to make sense of all this, she’d soon revise any thoughts she had about her super-sleuth father.

That night, as I tried to sleep, my subconscious was invaded by disjointed images of the faceless killer mocking my attempts to catch her.

Chapter Nine

Emma — Tuesday 25
^th
October 2011

Tears rolled down Emma’s face as she looked in the mirror. This time, nothing she had done had been able to mask the bruising. Hardly surprising, really, for it had been the third blow she had received in the same place in under a month. Her skin might have been that of a woman three times her age.

The first one had been bad enough, but she had defied Mike by going to the course when he’d ordered her to quit, so it was her own fault. Mike had only held off from giving her a more severe beating because he’d devised his scheme. He couldn’t see it through if she was too disfigured, could he? Gail had boasted about her lavish lifestyle, and he felt he was entitled to a part of it. Emma had been told what to do, how to entice Gail’s husband away from her, and how to ensure that Mike benefited from the relationship.

How were they to know that Gail had been economical with the truth? Emma had done as she’d been told, and met up with the awful man while Gail was at the pub, only to find he had a job that was barely more rewarding than her own. She had allowed him to give her a little cuddle, but when she’d tried to pull away, she’d discovered how many hands he seemed to have; even an octopus would have been envious of him. To make matters worse, some of her lipstick must have smeared on his collar as she’d tried to fend him off. Thankfully, she’d managed to wriggle free before anything serious happened — she shuddered to imagine what that would have been like — but Gail had arrived home just as she was about to leave, and she hadn’t been given a chance to explain. Gail saw the lipstick smudge, put two-and-two together and hit her on the exact spot that was only just beginning to heal after the first blow.

Again, Emma accepted that it was her own fault. What else could Gail have done? She had tried to reassure her that there was nothing between them prior to last week’s class, but she knew she was wasting her time. Bill, it seemed, had left her, and it was obvious who was to blame for that.

But that wasn’t the worst part. She hadn’t told Mike at first that his plan wasn’t going to work, because she knew how he’d react. She waited until he was in a good mood, in the hope that he’d realise she wasn’t to blame. He didn’t. The beating he had given her was the worst she had ever received. It had been a week ago, right after the last class, and it had taken until today before she was able to get out of bed for more than a few minutes. Nobody had been to see her in that time — Mike certainly had shown no interest — and she’d had to survive on leftovers. She knew that she couldn’t go on like this.

She looked in the mirror once again. “Right, girl,” she said, “it’s time to grab control of your life. Quit that dead-end job and leave this flat. Tonight. While you still can.” She had a friend who lived in a flat near to the airport. Mike didn’t know about her. She could go and stay there for a few weeks. That would give her the time she needed. She knew she’d have to move away from the area afterwards, but that didn’t matter. Anywhere would do. Anywhere that didn’t have a Mike.