A Lesser Evil (29 page)

Yet if Alfie was innocent of this charge, why on earth was he refusing to name the other men? She would have expected a rat like him to squeal immediately when his own life was at risk. That suggested to her that there was something far bigger behind all this, or that Alfie knew the police didn’t have enough evidence to convict him.

The police had come back to her just a few days ago, asking if she knew or would recognize any of the men she had seen going into one of Alfie’s card parties. The only one she remembered reasonably well was a big man of perhaps fifty or so. But she couldn’t recall his face, only that he wore a very smart grey suit and it seemed incongruous to be wearing it to go slumming at Alfie’s. But she hadn’t seen anyone arrive for that last card game because she and Dan were watching television and the evening sun was so bright they’d pulled the curtains over to get a better picture.

Fifi had asked the police point-blank if it was true they thought Alfie and Molly might be innocent. To her disappointment they would not offer a personal opinion. One officer said in a very tight-lipped manner that everyone was innocent until proved guilty and they were still following various lines of enquiry. That hadn’t been any help at all.

It didn’t help either that Dan wouldn’t discuss any of this with her. Every time she mentioned it he went all silent on her. A few times he’d actually stomped off out. And she worried that one night he wouldn’t come back.

‘I’m going to work all day tomorrow,’ Dan announced that night as they were getting ready for bed.

Fifi was just pulling her nightdress over her head, and as soon as she’d got it on properly, she rounded on him and asked why.

‘For the extra money of course, sweetheart,’ he said wearily, as if that was obvious. ‘We can’t move away without it. Why don’t you spend the day going round some flat-letting agencies and putting our name down?’

One side of Fifi’s mind told her Dan was being sensible, but the other side was suspicious of him. Saturday afternoons had always been special to them. Dan would have a bath and change when he got home at noon, then they’d have some lunch together and often go out somewhere.

Even when she was pregnant and he was working late for extra money, he wouldn’t work on Saturday afternoons because he said the time with Fifi was far more important. The only occasion he’d ever worked a Saturday afternoon before was the day Angela was murdered, and he only did it then as a favour because his boss had been good enough to keep his job open for him while he was off sick.

‘If that’s what you want,’ she said in a sullen tone, and climbed into bed, lying down with her face to the wall. She expected him to get in and try to cuddle her. But he didn’t. He faced the other way and they lay there with their backs to each other.

As usual he fell asleep very quickly, and that made Fifi even more annoyed. She couldn’t understand why he’d changed so much. He didn’t even seem to like her any more, yet alone love her. Was he regretting marrying her now? Did he think he’d be happier single, going down to the pub every night with his workmates?

She felt him bound out of bed the following morning, and once again she was reminded of how things used to be. Before Angela’s death he had always been reluctant to get up, he would cuddle up closer and say he’d give anything to stay there with her. Now it was as if he couldn’t wait to get away from her.

Fifi lay there crying after he’d gone. It was raining hard, and the thought of another long day cooped up alone in the flat was almost unbearable. August was nearly over, the whole summer had gone without so much as one day at the seaside. Next month would bring their first anniversary, and she couldn’t help but think what they’d been like with each other when they first got married. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other, often jumping into bed as soon as they got home from work, making love far more important than meals.

Dan used to want to know every last thing about her then. Stories from her childhood, about her friends, the people at work. He wanted to know what she was thinking, what she day-dreamed about. And she was the same about him.

They had only made love once since she lost the baby. Maybe that was down to her more than him; she was weepy and the plaster on her arm put her off. But Dan hadn’t tried very hard to get her interested. Since the murder there had been nothing; even his cuddles seemed half-hearted. She guessed that he was afraid that intimacy would open the floodgates to how she felt about the murder. And he didn’t want to hear that.

But how could she deal with the images of that day trapped inside her head, if no one would let her describe them? She also needed to know what had happened, who was responsible and why, and until she did, none of it would fade. Once, Dan had understood everything about her, so why couldn’t he now?

But it wasn’t just Dan who didn’t want to talk to her. Miss Diamond said she was in a hurry every time Fifi saw her. Frank wouldn’t answer the door when she knocked. Stan would smile sadly but could not be drawn into conversation, and Yvette never seemed to be at home any more.

Surely they all had the same sort of thoughts and questions as she did about it all? If the Muckles had killed Angela, what were they intending to do with her body when they got home that evening? Were they going to bury it in their garden? Borrow a car or van and dump it somewhere? What story were they intending to put about to explain her disappearance? Would anyone have cared enough about the child to question it?

And if it wasn’t the Muckles who killed her, what was going on over at number 11? Who were these people Alfie wouldn’t name? It was all too much having this milling around in her head.

Just after nine Fifi heard Miss Diamond sweeping the stairs. She had always done it every Saturday morning, from her landing down to the front door. When they first moved in Fifi used to volunteer to do it, but the older woman said it was her job. When Fifi broke her wrist, her neighbour had started coming right up to their flat and doing the stairs all the way down.

Desperate to talk to someone, Fifi got up, pulled on some jeans and a blouse and opened the bedroom door. Miss Diamond was a couple of steps down from Fifi’s landing, working with a small stiff brush and dustpan. She had on the blue nylon overall she always wore for household chores, but her hair was as immaculate as usual.

‘I’ll be able to do this part just as soon as the plaster comes off,’ Fifi said. ’And I’ll do it all the way down to make up for you doing it all this time.’

‘It won’t be long coming off now, will it?’ the older woman said, looking up and smiling at Fifi. ‘I’m sure you can’t wait. ’

‘Only just over a week now,’ Fifi replied. ‘I’m so much looking forward to wallowing in the bath, it’s not the same when you’ve got to keep one arm out the water. And it’ll be good to go back to work.’

‘I often think it would be nice not to have to go to work.’ Miss Diamond paused reflectively in her sweeping. ‘But however good it appears to be able to just potter about all day, I’m sure I’d be bored with it in no time. I think I’d miss my colleagues too, even though I’m always grousing about them.’

Fifi felt very relieved and pleased that her neighbour seemed in the mood for a chat.

‘I really miss having people to talk to,’ she admitted. ‘Actually, I’ve been quite desperate since Angela’s death. It plays on my mind.’

Miss Diamond gave her a sharp look. ‘You must snap out of that,’ she said briskly. ‘The Muckles are an appalling bunch, they aren’t worth a moment’s thought.’

‘Don’t you want to know exactly what happened? Don’t you ask yourself questions about it? You must have seen people coming and going over there. Can’t you give the police some descriptions of people you’ve seen?’

‘No, I don’t want to know what went on there.’ The older woman sounded very indignant. ‘I have gone out of my way to ignore them and all their visitors. That family are absolute scum, animals that need putting down. Of course it’s awful that the little girl is dead, but at least she won’t have to endure any more. And we’ve finally got some peace.’

Fifi was very shocked at such a cynical view. ‘How can you enjoy peace that was won by a child’s death?’ she asked.

Miss Diamond leaned on the banister and looked intently at Fifi. ‘You remind me of myself at your age,’ she said. ‘Champion of the underdog, a lover of lost causes. It’s admirable to have compassion, Fifi, but you have to temper it with realism.’

‘I
am
very realistic,’ Fifi said indignantly.

Miss Diamond shook her head. ‘No you aren’t, dear. If you had been you wouldn’t have trusted Dan to find you a flat in London, and ended up here. I heard you laughing when you first moved in. You thought it was romantic living somewhere so crummy. That’s about as unrealistic as anyone can get.’

Fifi bristled. ‘I couldn’t come up here and look for a flat, and this was the only place Dan could find that we could afford. Why shouldn’t I trust my husband to find a place for us anyway? Are you saying there’s something wrong with him?’

‘There’s nothing wrong with him, he’s a decent, very likeable man,’ Miss Diamond said with a shrug. ‘But he hasn’t had the advantages you’ve had, Fifi. If you’d been doing the looking, you would’ve turned this place down, wouldn’t you?’

‘I expect so,’ Fifi agreed. ‘But he was getting frantic for us to be together, and so I made the best of it. So what’s your excuse for coming to live here? I don’t mean to be rude, but it sounds to me like the pot calling the kettle black!’

The older woman narrowed her eyes. ‘I certainly wasn’t as fortunate as you,’ she said with acid in her voice. ‘I was desperate for a roof over my head, and I had to sell my only warm coat just to get the advance rent. Until I got a job I was living on bread and marge, I didn’t even have a shilling for the gas. But I don’t suppose you can possibly imagine that kind of hardship.’

Fifi was stung by the implication that she was a spoiled little rich girl who swam through life without a thought for those less fortunate. But she had come up against this kind of prejudice before and knew the only way to handle it was to carry on, and hope that by showing interest in the other person she would prove herself to be sensitive and caring.

‘It’s hard to believe you’ve ever had hard times. I mean, you’ve got such a good job, you’re so well dressed.’ She paused, not knowing quite what else to say. ‘And you’re a real lady.’

‘I was brought up to be one, certainly. Just as you were, Fifi. But I made the mistake of falling for the wrong man and it nearly destroyed me.’

Fifi’s inherent curiosity reared up at that statement. In four months she’d made absolutely no headway in finding out anything about this woman, and even though that hadn’t been her aim today, she wasn’t going to let an opportunity like this slip away. She sat down on the top of the stairs. ‘Tell me about it?’ she asked.

Miss Diamond bent down again, carrying on with her sweeping. ‘It’s not something I like to talk about or even think about,’ she said crisply. ‘Let’s just say he was a complete bounder.’

‘Really?’ Fifi was intrigued. ‘Do tell me about him, Miss Diamond. If you don’t I’ll be wondering about it all day.’

The woman looked up again, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips. ‘You can be such a child, Fifi,’ she exclaimed. ‘So curious about everything. Me, what went on over the road. Anything and anybody. My aunt used to say, “Curiosity killed the cat”.’

‘Mum used to say that all the time,’ Fifi chuckled. ‘But being interested in other people isn’t such a bad thing, is it? Not if it helps to understand them.’

‘Perhaps. I suppose we
are
the end product of what has happened to us,’ Miss Diamond replied thoughtfully. ‘I was once warm, trusting and full of fun. If I’d married a decent man I might have stayed that way instead of turning into a humourless Tartar.’

‘You aren’t a Tartar,’ Fifi insisted, even though that name summed the woman up remarkably well. ‘You were very kind to me after I lost my baby.’

‘That was because I knew how you felt. I lost a baby myself after my husband ran out on me.’

Fifi saw the hurt in Miss Diamond’s dark eyes and guessed this was something she wasn’t in the habit of divulging.

‘You poor thing,’ Fifi exclaimed. ‘I’m so sorry. No wonder you call him a bounder, though I’d be calling him something much worse than that.’

‘I’ve called him all sorts over the years, but I’ve learned to live with what he did to me by blaming myself for being so headstrong. A great many people warned me about him, but I refused to listen.’

‘I can’t imagine you being fooled by anyone,’ Fifi said. ‘You seem so sure of yourself.’

‘I am now,’ Miss Diamond smiled wryly. ‘But when I was your age, my heart ruled my head, just like yours does.’

Fifi thought there was a warning in that confidence. ‘You don’t think Dan’s like your husband, do you?’

‘Of course not,’ Miss Diamond said quickly. ‘He’s a good man, with many very fine qualities. But I suspect that your family aren’t enamoured with him?’

Fifi nodded sadly. ‘And I don’t think my mum is ever going to come round about him,’ she said dolefully. ‘But then Dan’s being so funny with me, I shouldn’t be surprised if we split up.’

‘Oh dear.’ Miss Diamond frowned. ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Fifi. You seemed so close last time I came up and had a coffee with you.’

‘Everything was fine till Angela was killed,’ Fifi explained. ‘But he seems to be cross with me all the time now.’

The older woman looked hard at Fifi. ‘Is that because you keep talking about the murder and the Muckles?’

‘I suppose so,’ Fifi admitted somewhat reluctantly.

‘Then I can’t say I blame him for being cross. If I were Dan I’d find your morbid fascination with the lower classes quite offensive.’

Fifi looked at her neighbour in puzzlement. ‘Whatever do you mean?’

‘I’ve watched you, Fifi,’ Miss Diamond said crisply. ‘You try to prove to everyone in this street that you are one of them. Though why you should want to be considered on a level with such riff-raff I can’t imagine!’

‘Don’t call them that! You sound like my mother,’ Fifi exclaimed.