Stone Cold Dead Read online

  I could hear the sirens too, and see the reflected blue flashes of their warning lights. ‘Did you tell them what they’ve got to contend with?’ I asked, and he nodded. Then he left us.

  I waited until the door closed behind him, and stared at my left fist. The pain was receding, and the fingers were capable of movement. Enough feeling had returned for me to detect clearly what I’d felt before, but at that time only vaguely. There was a hard object digging into my palm.

  ‘I’ll run you a bath,’ Amelia said. ‘You’d better get those clothes off.’

  I saw then that she must have had her own bath, as she was wearing the dress she’d brought for the evening. Over it, she had thrown her anorak. Hers had a hood. She must have failed to see me walking around outside, and had come to search me out. Luckily for me.

  ‘In a second,’ I said. ‘There’s something else.’

  I reached over with my right hand and slowly, painfully, began to lift one finger at a time from the clasped left hand. Then paused. Footsteps raced up the stairs, and there was a tap at the door.

  ‘Come in,’ I called.

  It was Colin again. ‘Ashtray,’ he said, waving a large glass one. He put it down on the bedside table. ‘Now all you need is the spare pipe.’ He grinned. ‘See you later.’ Then he was gone.

  It had been his hint that I need not venture into danger again, simply for a peaceful smoke. Smoking can be dangerous.

  ‘The car keys?’ asked Amelia.

  ‘Anorak pocket,’ I told her. ‘But leave it for now. The anorak’s in the bar. There’s something I want to say.’

  ‘Oh...mysterious.’ She was humouring me. ‘Say on.’

  ‘You’ll have talked with Mellie,’ I said, and waited for her nod. ‘Of course you would. And—two women together—I expect the engagement ring was mentioned.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Described? Did she describe it?’

  ‘What is this, Richard? What’re you getting at?’

  ‘So?’ I insisted. ‘The ring.’

  ‘So—exactly what?’ she demanded. ‘She told me how generous Ray had been. £800 for a ring! That’s a bit much for a policeman—a constable. But apparently he insisted, because she liked it. I mean...oh, you know how it is.’

  I grinned at her. ‘It amounts to emotional blackmail, but all the same it’s a fair sum to carry around on a finger.’

  ‘What’re you getting at, Richard?’ she demanded. ‘Please don’t criticize her. I’m told he’s picked up a nice little inheritance recently.’

  I nodded. ‘I see. And...correct me if I’m wrong—you have to be measured for a ring. It’d never do if it was too loose. It could slip off.’

  ‘Oh, Richard! You know all this. Yes, she had to be measured. They slip different sized rings over your finger to get it right.’

  ‘And...then he pockets the ring? The man does.’

  ‘Well—I don’t know how it is these days with young women. I reckon most couples don’t bother with engagement rings—and if they do they probably slip them on in the shop, and that’s it. But these people here...well, you’ve met them, Richard. It all has to be traditional. She gets the ring on her finger this evening.’

  I nodded. ‘All being well.’

  ‘And what does that mean?’ She was clearly losing patience with me.

  ‘Did she describe it?’ I asked. ‘Oh...she’s sure to have done.’

  ‘Yes. If you must know. It’s naturally got a ruby. Her second name. It’s a ruby with a circlet of diamonds.’

  She waited impatiently for my response. I had to decide exactly how to put it. So I approached it from a different direction.

  ‘Have you noticed—young Ray Torrance has been acting rather strange all evening, from the moment we first met him. He refused to open his little black box and show Mellie the ring. He’s been looking harassed and worried, and he’s drinking too much. I did wonder why. But I think I know now. Call it a guess.’

  It was a guess inspired by multiple suggestions. A ring that Ray refused to produce, and his weak explanation that it was unlucky—the fact that rings are bought as a proper fit—the fact that the hard shape now in my palm had slipped away from the dead hand so easily—and the fact of a tangible atmosphere of something untoward.

  ‘Do tell me, and then get to your bath.’ Amelia was impatient.

  But I wasn’t ready. ‘That hand in the pound...I thought it was a woman’s. Long and slim fingers. I also thought that I caught a spark of light down there. Then I couldn’t keep hold of the hand any longer. It just slipped away, being all wet and my fingers numb. But as I lost the hand I felt something hard in my palm. It’s still there. And I couldn’t open my hand when I managed to get out of there. But...I think I can now. Shall I try it?’

  She stared at me, her face rigid, eyes huge. Down below, beneath our windows, I could hear the police vehicles arriving, their sirens yawning down to a growl.

  ‘Try it,’ she suggested softly.

  I did. My fist opened, and in the palm lay a ring. It was a ruby with a circlet of diamonds. ‘Oh Lord!’ she whispered.

  ‘You think this could be the one?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh yes. Yes.’ But her voice wasn’t steady. ‘It must be, otherwise the coincidence is too great.’

  ‘And also, of course,’ I pointed out, ‘the ring was not a perfect fit for the finger it was on. So—what do I do about it? That’s where I want your advice, my love. A woman’s view of the problem. If it’s the ring, then how did this other woman—assuming it is a woman—come to be wearing it? But if it is the ring, that would explain Ray’s attitude, if he came here this evening with an empty box in his pocket. He would have to come, ring or no ring. How he thought he was going to wriggle out of the situation I can’t guess. I reckon he couldn’t, either. The last I saw of him, he seemed to be drinking himself into a stupor. Better that scandal, I suppose, than having to admit he had no ring to place on Mellie’s finger.’

  ‘So now you’ll be able to ease his mind,’ she said lightly. ‘That should please you, Richard.’

  But she had not allowed her mind to probe the background implications, and perhaps was not taking me seriously. So I decided not to pursue it at that time.

  ‘Hmm!’ I said. ‘I think I’m ready for my bath now.’

  ‘You’re putting it off!’ she cried. ‘The ring, Richard!’

  Did she intend me to rush out of the room and hunt for Ray? I shrugged. ‘I need time to think, my love. I’ll do some thinking in the bath.’

  ‘Is there anything to be decided?’ she demanded. ‘If that’s the ring Ray bought for Mellie (and how it could be I can’t imagine) then you must take it to him. Shall I do it? Give it to me and...’

  I shook my head, smiling to reassure her. ‘But you see—’ I found I could get to my feet quite easily and stand without too many pains. ‘I’m in an awkward spot, my love. I’m an ex-policeman, and I’ve removed evidence from what seems very likely to be the body of a woman. I’ve removed a ring. And we don’t know what she was doing here, or how the ring got on her finger, or how she got into the pound. An accident? Or was she pushed? The parapet on that footbridge over the pound is only about thigh height, so it could have been an accident. The ring is evidence of...well, something. So my obvious duty is to hand it over to whoever turns out to be the officer in charge of...whatever it turns out to be, and in the circumstances, with the background evidence, the implication is murder. So—am I to be responsible for withholding evidence in a horrible crime, just to help out a young man I didn’t meet until an hour ago? Ask yourself, my love.’

  ‘But...Mellie!’

  ‘I know, I know. But think about it, while I have my bath. And bear in mind what a terrible death that must have been, if she wasn’t dead when she went in.’

  ‘I’ll go down and try to find your other pipe,’ she said, somewhat distantly, clearly not wishing to allow her mind to dwell on the nature of the death. Then she left the room abruptly, obviousl
y annoyed with my attitude.

  Chapter Three

  I did not run my bath immediately, but went to stand at the window, watching what was going on below. Whoever was in charge seemed to know how to go about it. Or perhaps he wasn’t in charge, because Colin was down there. They were his locks, and he would know best what to do.

  For a few minutes I couldn’t detect what they were doing, but then I realized that there was an obvious approach to it. They had the gate at the head of the bottom lock open, Colin in charge at that time, and were flooding the pound in order to float the body out to a more exposed position in the bottom lock, from where they could approach it more effectively.

  The white floodlights were now switched on again, and supplemented by lights from two of their vehicles. It was like working in full daylight. Almost beneath my window, they were rigging a square of canvas, with ropes. Once they had a sight of the body, if no more than a gentle roll to the surface, they would be able to work the canvas to a position beneath it, and lift it out. It...it...I couldn’t prevent myself from thinking in this way. There had been only the shape of a hand and fingers on which I had based my decision, and it was perhaps too little on which to form a firm basis as to sex.

  Yet...there was the ring. Would a man wear such a ring? These days, perhaps. Ah yes.

  I turned away. The ache in my fingers had become no more than a stiffness. I decided on the bath.

  This was the biggest bath I had ever seen. I wallowed in it gloriously. The residual aches disappeared, and I could exercise all my faculties. It seemed to me that I was being manoeuvred into a position that all my instincts told me was wrong. If it turned out that the death had not been accidental, I would be compounding a crime. Or did I wait until somebody in authority made the decision? And then decide. That was a very weak way round it, and would be recognized as such. Procrastination, it’s called, but in this instance it could be the thief of my self-respect rather than my time.

  Amelia had been a long while. I was towelling myself when she called from the bedroom.

  ‘I’ve brought your pipe, Richard.’

  ‘Did you have any difficulty finding it? You’ve been gone quite a while.’

  She didn’t answer directly. Or rather, she answered in an evasive manner.

  ‘The dinner’s going to go ahead, as planned,’ she called out. ‘They’ve actually got a gong. Gerald’s acting as though everything’s normal, and what’s going on outside is of no interest to anybody inside. It’s just as well we packed your charcoal grey suit, I must say. It all sounds as though it’s going to be very formal.’

  I wandered into the bedroom. ‘Think I’d better have another shave?’ I asked, rasping my hand around my chin.

  ‘Oh no. You’ll do.’ She hadn’t even cast me a glance. ‘But I’ve been talking to somebody who says he knows you.’

  ‘Have you, indeed?’

  I might have guessed that she would have moved around, trying to get together as much information as she could. No doubt she would have had a few words with everybody who would listen, if only to gather evidence that there would be no harm whatsoever in my returning the ring to Ray Torrance.

  ‘His name’s Slater,’ she told me. ‘Inspector Ted Slater, he told me. He wasn’t wearing a uniform, so I suppose he’s a detective inspector. Do you think?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I knew Ted. I’d better get out there and have a word...’

  ‘Richard! It’s still cold out there, and you haven’t got a coat to put on. You don’t want to get a chill, and after what you’ve already been through’

  ‘Yes, yes. Maybe I can borrow an overcoat. It can wait, anyway.’

  ‘And I looked into the bar,’ she told me. ‘They call it a lounge. Anyway...I looked in. Mellie was in there, talking to Ray.’

  ‘And?’ I had to prompt, because she didn’t go on.

  ‘She was close to tears, Richard. I could tell that. And you were quite correct. There is something strange about Ray. That must be her ring.’

  She pointed at it, where I had left it on the bedside table.

  ‘And I’m sure Mellie’s feeling that there’s something wrong,’ she added.

  The way she had spoken, the way she pointed, indicated that I was in severe dereliction of my obvious duty, which was to put an end to the distress.

  ‘I will not have her upset, Richard. I will not.’

  She does not usually flare up at me like that. Any other time, she would have respected my reason for hesitation. But this was brushing too close. I turned away, not wishing to look her directly in the eyes. Instead, I went to the window and looked out.

  In the time I’d taken with my bath, they had succeeded in the task for which they’d been preparing. They had captured the body in their canvas sling, and had brought it, dripping, over the footbridge, to where there was more space to spread it out, and more light. It was indeed a woman, as a skirt was twisted clammily around her legs. So I had been correct in my guess. Both skirt and jacket were dark. Now black with water, they were nevertheless recognizable as the uniform of a woman police constable.

  Two men were crouched over her, one clearly a doctor, with his bag beside him. He was not the medical examiner I’d known in my time.

  ‘I’ll be a minute,’ I said.

  ‘But Richard...’

  ‘Only a minute.’ And I rushed out, down the stairs and through the bar, out into the cold night. The men were packing their equipment away; an ambulance was waiting to receive the body. I walked up to the two men. As my feet came within the orbit of Slater’s vision, he looked up.

  ‘Who’re you?’ he demanded.

  ‘I’m the one who spotted her, and tried to get her out. I’ve got a personal interest—’

  ‘Then take it somewhere else,’ he told me flatly. ‘You’re Patton, aren’t you? This isn’t for you.’ His tone wasn’t encouraging.

  ‘Proprietary interest,’ I suggested. ‘And why the CID?’

  ‘I told you. It’s none of your affair.’

  ‘She fell in. Easy enough—’

  ‘Somebody phoned in,’ he interrupted. ‘Said she’d been killed. So the CID it had to be. And it turns out it’s in the family. This is Woman Police Constable Clare Martin. One of ours, Patton, one of ours.’

  ‘An accident...’

  ‘There is what looks like a depressed fracture of the skull,’ the doctor observed, his head down, as though telling WPC Martin how she’d died. And there are thumb marks on her neck. Looks like thumb marks. For now...I’d say she was strangled before she entered the water, and got a blow on the back of her head going in.’

  Slater cocked his head at me. ‘Satisfied, Patton? Satisfied?’

  ‘I would be, if you’d found her cap.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Her peaked cap with the checkered band,’ I explained. ‘If she’d been wearing it, perhaps you wouldn’t be looking at a depressed fracture. No sign of it?’ I asked innocently.

  ‘No sign,’ said Slater shortly.

  ‘That’s strange,’ I remarked, and turned away back to the house.

  When I walked into the bar, Amelia was tucked away at a corner table and talking quietly to Ray. I had to hope she wasn’t telling him I had the ring, as I was planning to use it as a form of blackmail. Then, perhaps, I would be able to force out the truth and make up my mind as to my future actions.

  Colin was standing with one foot on the genuine, old and worn, brass rail around the base of the counter. Morosely, he was drinking something that appeared to be beer. When I asked, he said it was shandy, but it smelt stronger than that. Brandy in it, perhaps.

  ‘Got to keep a clear head,’ he told me, but his pronunciation wandered.

  He stared past me at Ray, frowning. Then he put his huge hands over his face and rubbed his features vigorously, as though trying to enliven them towards something. Or away. Away, perhaps, from the distress of a sudden death, one within his own domain.

  There was anger in the set of his
jaw. ‘Look at him,’ he mumbled. Nothin’ matters to dear old Ray. Somebody dies, and right outside there...but does he care? No. Not him. He chats away as though it’s nothing. Nothing!’ He swept his arm violently, sending his glass flying, to crash to splinters behind the counter. I pretended to ignore it, though Amelia’s head had lifted, startled.

  ‘How long have we got?’ I asked, changing the subject. Then, at his blank expression, I amplified, ‘Until the dinner gong.’

  ‘Oh...’ He shrugged. ‘Say...a quarter of an hour. Twenty minutes. Or more. When last sighted, father was dressing. Mother said he was tying his bow tie. Never a made-up tie for him, you understand. He despises them, he says, though how you can despise an inanimate object I don’t know. Don’t worry. I’ve known it to take half an hour.’

  ‘A perfectionist,’ I murmured.

  He made a sound of disgust. It’s typical. Nothing has to interfere with his plans. There’s going to be a dinner and then an engagement party. The fact that somebody’s met with a horrible death out there—oh, he’s already forgotten that. You can bet.’

  Not, I thought, a perfectionist, after all. More closely I’d call him self-opinionated. Everything revolved around Gerald Fulton. And it revolved at the pace suitable to him.

  ‘Is your mother having to do all the cooking?’ I asked, just to change the subject. ‘On her own.’

  ‘Oh no. She’s got help. She fixed it up. It’d never occur to my dear father. Mrs Phipps from the village. Marvellous, she is. And her daughter, Betty—she’s going to do the serving. It’ll all be absolutely correct, you’ll see. Dinner and party. Has to be, if father’s got anything to do with it. It’s not every day, he said, that you have a daughter getting engaged.’

  The thought crossed my mind that this evening he might be disappointed, as what was possibly the ring was still in my pocket.

  ‘And is the young lady prepared for the ordeal?’

  ‘Ordeal? Funny way of putting it.’ But he looked away from me, he too aware that there was something off-key with such an arrangement. In fact, he made an attempt to rationalize the situation.