Some particular evil, p.33
Some Particular Evil, page 33
‘Frank, for God’s sake, just tell me.’
‘I’m going to set up as a private detective … I need a partner. I’d like to formally offer you a partnership. Bowman and Diamond: Private Detective Agency. Sounds good, doesn’t it?’ He leant back, smiling.
Her back went rigid and her eyeballs bulged. A private detective? How could she be a private detective? She thought of the past weeks. She’d never felt so alive, so involved. She’d loved trying to solve the puzzle of Susan’s murder; she’d been fascinated as further events unfolded. She was frightened at times, scalded with rage when Mabel was attacked, and when she found out about the murder of Felicity and found poor Emily Piff – but this.
‘Shouldn’t it be Diamond and Bowman?’
Frank slapped his thigh. This was a pantomime.
‘Definitely Bowman and Diamond, it has a ring to it. So you’ll think about it?’
Think about it? The idea was thrilling. ‘How do you become a private detective? Do you have to do exams?’
‘I’ll explain everything in more detail if you’re interested. Are you?’
The idea made her dizzy, excited, scared. Leave teaching? She’d still be working with people and for people. Working with Frank, as an equal? She liked and admired him. How could she refuse him? He’d taken on her burden of guilt and set her free.
She thrust out her right hand. ‘Yes. I’m interested.’
They solemnly shook hands.
‘Can we tell Dorothy? See what she thinks?’
‘Why not? I’m going ahead even if after further thought you decide not to join me. I would understand, Laurel, and I need to tell Stuart Elderkin, I owe him that.’
‘So what happens now, Frank?’
‘I need to tidy a few things up. The chief inspector wants to see me Monday.’
‘Will he try to get you to change your mind?’
Frank laughed and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Possibly. I’ve got a good clear-up rate, but he can’t hide his dislike of me. Can’t stand the way I dress and he’s never liked the way I cut corners.’
‘Supposing it doesn’t work, Frank? What if no one will employ us?’
He turned to her, astonishment written over his face. ‘Not give us a job? Bowman and Diamond: the pair who cracked the famous murder case at Blackfriars School? I’ve looked into the world of private detectives, I’ve got good contacts; there’s a lot of business out there. Cold feet already?’
‘No, it’s an exciting idea. But why choose me? Why not go into partnership with an experienced detective?’
He tipped his head to one side, looking at her like a cheeky robin, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘I’ve got the brains, and I needed some brawn, so you’re the obvious choice.’ He dodged the clenched fist and slid from the bench, backing away, holding out his hands, palms up. ‘Only joking, Laurel, but you must admit you pack a good punch.’ He held out a hand. ‘Let’s go back to Dorothy, hear what she thinks.’
50
Sunday, 27th September, 1970
The mood in Dorothy’s dining room was celebratory. Laurel, seated next to Frank, raised a glass of champagne to Mabel, who, as honoured guest, was seated at the top of the table, Stuart at her side.
‘To Mabel! Wonderful to have you back,’ Dorothy said.
Mabel was pale, with yellow bruised cheeks and a bandaged head, but she smiled bravely and raised a glass of water to acknowledge their salutes. She carefully chewed her lunch of roast lamb, and then put down her knife and fork. ‘Is it true there’s only Jim McFall left at the school?’
Dorothy nodded. ‘The governors are keeping him on to look after the buildings and grounds. I must see if I can do something for him if he wants to stay round here.’ She turned to Frank. ‘Any news of Nicholson?’ She shuddered.
‘He’s out of danger medically, but refuses to answer any questions. I doubt he’ll ever get to court. He’s a natural for Broadmoor. We’ll probably never know all the details of the case.’
Dorothy shook her head. ‘Just as well.’
‘One interesting fact I dug up,’ Stuart said, ‘his mother had red hair before it turned white. What do you make of that?’
There was silence.
‘I think it’s time for pudding,’ Dorothy said.
Laurel looked at the people round the table. She’d miss them so much, especially Dorothy. Until she’d stayed with her she hadn’t appreciated the depth and strength of her character: grieving for Emily took place behind her closed bedroom door. Her iron will wouldn’t let her burden Laurel, and now Mabel with her grief.
Only Stuart had much appetite for the apple and blackberry crumble and cheese and biscuits.
‘Time for coffee. Would you help me, Stuart?’ Dorothy asked.
Laurel started to get up.
‘No, dear. You and Frank talk to Mabel and tell her about your new careers.’
Stuart was already on his way to the kitchen.
‘Did Stuart tell you Frank and I are going into partnership?’ Laurel asked. Why has Dorothy closed the kitchen door? She never does that. What are they up to?
Mabel nodded. ‘Yes, he did mention it.’ She smiled and looked down, her cheeks flushing.
Frank leant towards her. ‘So what do you think, Mabel? Is Laurel up to being a ’tec?’
‘She’s brave enough. Stuart’s told me bits of what happened. How Laurel stayed with me on the beach by herself.’ She looked at Frank. ‘You’ve got a good partner; you take care of her.’
Frank raised his eyebrows. ‘I was banking on her taking care of me.’
Mabel laughed. ‘You might not like how she does that.’
The kitchen door opened. Dorothy and Stuart carried in trays of coffee, and while Stuart placed cups in front of everyone, Dorothy produced glasses and bottles of brandy and whisky from the sideboard.
‘Wow. This is a right knees-up, Dorothy Piff. You’ll get drummed out of the WI as a lush if this gets out,’ Frank said.
‘In that case half the members would have to join me.’ She passed round the bottles.
Stuart poured out a thimbleful of brandy for Mabel, and then rapped the table with his coffee spoon. ‘I have an announcement to make.’ He grinned broadly. ‘I took the opportunity while Mabel was a bit weak in the head–’
Mabel placed her hot coffee spoon on his wrist.
‘Ow!’ The pain seemed to increase the width of his smile. ‘I’ve proposed to her and she’s accepted.’ He raised her hand and kissed it. ‘We are officially engaged.’
Laurel placed her hand over her mouth, her eyes welling. She looked at Frank. Had he known? He looked as overcome as she felt.
Frank got up, kissed Mabel and shook Stuart’s hand. ‘I knew he was keen to taste your apple pie, Mabel, but to go to such lengths.’ Mabel patted his cheek. ‘I know you’ll be good for each other. My very best wishes for a long and happy life together. You’re a brave woman, Mabel Grill, and you’re a lucky sod, Stuart Elderkin.’
Laurel kissed Mabel and then Stuart. ‘I’m so pleased. God bless you both.’
Dorothy didn’t look surprised. She clapped her hands, and then raised her glass. ‘To the future Mr and Mrs Elderkin.’
Mabel smiled and took a sip of brandy.
‘Now for another announcement,’ Dorothy said.
What? Another announcement? Laurel drank some whisky. She was afraid she’d break down and blub over Frank.
As Dorothy lit a cigarette her hands trembled, and she looked uncertainly at Stuart, as though for support. ‘Frank, Laurel, we’re all excited that you’re going into business together. Would you mind telling us a bit more about your plans?’ She sucked on the cigarette until the end glowed red hot.
Frank frowned and looked at Laurel. ‘No, of course not, but it’s early days. Laurel and I haven’t thrashed out many details – in fact, any details.’
‘Will you have a base? A permanent place to work from? Have you decided where that will be?’ Dorothy asked.
Frank squirmed in his seat. ‘No. That’s something we’ll have to talk over.’
‘What about finance?’ Stuart asked. ‘Have you enough money between you to set up?’
Laurel thought she’d better help out. ‘It’s really good you’re so concerned for us, but we’ve got some money. I’ve managed to save a bit, it was for a deposit on a house, but the man who was going to marry me got cold feet. Frank’s also got some savings and a relative left him some money recently. If it doesn’t work out I can go back to teaching and Frank … What will you do, Frank?’
‘Join the circus. I haven’t any responsibilities, I can make out somehow.’
Stuart took out his pipe, looked at Mabel, and put it back in his jacket pocket. There was a silence. What was going on? Laurel looked at Frank. He looked puzzled.
Dorothy took a deep breath. ‘I’ve … well … we’ve … that is … Stuart, Mabel and I have a proposition to put to you. You don’t have to answer now. Think about it.’ She stubbed out her cigarette.
Stuart leant across the table towards her and Frank. ‘As you know, Frank, I’m fifty-five, coming up to retirement after Christmas. Before all this happened I didn’t know what I’d do. Now I know what I’d like to do. We’ll get married as soon as Mabel sets the date, but neither of us is ready for retirement. These last two weeks have given me new life.’ He looked at Dorothy.
Laurel looked from one to the other. For a nascent detective she wasn’t doing too well, but Frank looked amazed – pleased even.
Dorothy took over. ‘The proposal is this. I haven’t a job, I want a job – preferably office work and something to organise, but also I want to be part of something I believe in. This house was too large for Emily and me.’ She swallowed. ‘I have spare rooms in abundance. I’m offering you a base camp both for the firm and to live in, and my services as a secretary, dogsbody, secret agent, whatever you want to call me. We could split the living costs, with no money to be paid for my work, but I’d like to buy in and be part of the business.’ She leant back looking exhausted.
Laurel looked at Frank.
Before they could speak Stuart said, ‘And I’d like to offer my services too, as a detective. I won’t need paying: I’ll have a good pension, and Mabel and I can let out our houses, but like Dorothy, I … we, want to be part of the business – be involved.’ He looked at Mabel.
She took his hand. ‘My role, as soon as I’m fit, would be to look after all of you, so you can get on with catching criminals, finding lost dogs, or whatever cases you get. I’d like to be involved, to hear about what you’re up to, and to play some part ...’ Her words faded away.
Stuart patted her hand. ‘Well done, love.’
Frank stood up. ‘These are incredibly generous offers.’ His green eyes were dark emerald. ‘To show such trust in the two of us …’ For once he couldn’t find the words.
Laurel stood up too. She wouldn’t have to lose them. She tried to squash her elation. It had to be Frank’s decision. ‘During the past three weeks I’ve seen the worst side of humanity, but also the best. We’ve all been through so much together.’ It could have been so much worse. Mabel could have died, and Nicholson could have killed her too. ‘But we’re all here today. Thank you for believing in us. I agree with Frank: you’ve made fantastic offers of help and friendship. Frank we need to talk. Can we use the sitting room, Dorothy?’
Dorothy sniffed, blew her nose and concentrated on rolling up her napkin and shoving it in a silver ring. ‘Of course, but you don’t have to make a decision now. We, all three of us, will understand if you’d rather go it alone. We’ll always be here for both of you. You’ll always have our friendship.’
‘As you will ours.’ Laurel grabbed Frank’s hand and pulled him into the sitting room.
They silently stared at each other. Dear God, she hoped he felt the same way she did. But he was the driving force, the expert. The detective agency was his idea. If he didn’t want to involve them she’d agree with him.
‘What do you think, Laurel? Could it work?’
Of course it would work! The thought of having their base here in Dunwich, and the support and company of Dorothy, Mabel and Stuart was like a soothing balm. Already she’d had doubts about her ability to live up to Frank’s expectations. Amateur sleuthing and getting pupils to confess to their crimes was one thing; but was she up to finding missing persons and solving crimes? People would be paying good money – they’d want results. She’d be leaving a stable profession, a steady salary and a guaranteed pension. Would it work? All of them living and working together? Would they get on each other’s nerves? That happened in any family, and it would be like having another family, it would be wonderful. ‘I think you ought to decide, Frank. We may be Bowman and Diamond, but you’re the one with the experience. I’ll be the rooky.’
‘This is a very out-of-the-way corner of the world.’
‘Does that matter? We can travel to wherever the work is; we’d have to do that anyway wherever we have a base. There are fast trains to London from Ipswich. Also there might be plenty of work in East Anglia and not too many detective agencies.’ She heard desperation in her voice. Shut up, Laurel.
Frank laughed and hugged her tight. ‘You’re afraid if we’re alone you’d weaken to my charms. Are you hoping Dorothy will lay down strict rules? Bedrooms out of bounds?’
His arms were strong and being close to him was … ‘Three chaperones might not be a bad thing, Frank. We can’t afford, literally can’t afford, to let feelings get in the way of work.’
They reluctantly parted.
‘One thing I won’t agree to.’
Her shoulders sagged. ‘What’s that?’
‘I’m staying in the cottage. I need thinking space.’
He’d said yes!
‘So we’re agreed? Bowman and Diamond will be based here, at Greyfriars House in Dunwich?’ Frank asked.
‘Wonderful.’
Frank pulled a face. ‘I don’t think we can stretch the firm’s title to Bowman, Diamond, Elderkin, Piff and Grill, do you?’
Laughing, Laurel collapsed onto a settee. ‘It would have to be Bowman, Diamond, Piff, Elderkin and Elderkin. I think that’s worse.’
‘Shall we tell them?’ He held out his hand and he pulled her to her feet.
She remembered the first time she saw him: in the mortuary, near Angela’s murdered body. Then his green eyes were cold, unblinking; now they smiled at her.
She nodded and they went back into the dining room.
The End
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Copyright © Vera Morris 2016
The right of Vera Morris to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Vera Morris, Some Particular Evil
