The Darkest Hour (29 page)

Lauren balanced on the chair with one hand gripping the mulberry tree’s trunk. With the other she lifted the old motorbike tyre on its rope, and it swung back and forth, hitting her in the knees. She wobbled and one of the chair legs sank deeper into the grass. She allowed herself a fast glance at the house. Kristi was still at the back door, one hand at her temple.
No, I still don’t want your help.

She took her hand from the trunk. The chair tilted a bit more. She hoisted the tyre and tried to fling the rope over the branch, then the chair tipped further and she dropped the tyre and stumbled to the ground.

‘Lauren.’

‘I’m
fine
.’

‘Joe’s here.’

Lauren stood up, brushing grass from her hands. Joe walked across the lawn. Behind him Kristi closed the door and disappeared from view into the house.

‘Now this looks like an important task,’ Joe said.

‘Swing maintenance. Very important.’

He picked up the frayed-through loop that Lauren had cut off. ‘I’d’ve thought Felise would be helping you.’

‘She’s in the bath.’ Lauren climbed back up on the chair. Joe lifted the tyre so she could feed the rope over the branch.

‘Might be too short now,’ she said.

‘Knot it up and we’ll see.’

She had to use both hands to tie the knot and the chair wobbled again. Joe stepped closer, and put the back of his shoulder against her hip. ‘Lean there.’

Lauren could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt and her jeans. She tried to focus on the knot. ‘Busy day?’

‘Not really. Just been playing squash with a mate in Dulwich Hill. Thought I’d pop in, see how it went this morning.’

His voice vibrated through the bones in his shoulder. Lauren scraped her knuckle against the bark. ‘It went okay.’

He looked up at her. ‘Are you in trouble over it?’

‘They haven’t decided yet.’ Her fingers seemed stiff, numb. ‘It sounds like I’ll be charged, but because of the circumstances I could be let off, or just fined. Or jailed.’

He nodded, his face serious. They both knew that even being charged with a serious offence like that could see her kicked out of the job.

‘With all your years of experience they’d be idiots to let you go,’ he said.

‘Let’s hope they see it the same way.’ She tugged the rope tight. ‘There. How’s that look?’

Joe let the tyre hang. ‘How tall’s Felise?’

Lauren got down from the chair and held her hand to her side. Joe crouched so his head was at that height and grabbed at the tyre. ‘Should be fine.’

‘Was probably a bit low before, come to think of it,’ she said. Joe stood up and his knee, then his back, cracked. She smiled. ‘You’re such an old man.’

He smiled down at her, then suddenly put his hand on the back of her neck, and leaned in and kissed her.

For the first instant she was so stunned she didn’t move, then she reached up to slide her own hand around the back of his neck and pull him close. His skin was warm and damp. His lips were firmer than she remembered. She opened her mouth, wanting to take all of him into her, and she started to press her body against his, but then he was pulling back, sliding out of her grip, breaking free of her lips.

‘Joe.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Joe touched the back of his neck. ‘I had a shower but I’m still all sweaty.’

‘I don’t care.’ She reached for him again but he backed away, bumping into the tyre and setting it swinging. He looked up at the house.

Lauren looked up at the house too. Kristi was nowhere to be seen. ‘Joe, wait.’

‘Guess that’s fixed.’ He tugged on the rope, then looked at his watch. ‘Shit. See you tomorrow night, hey?’ He didn’t wait for her answer but walked quickly across the lawn and inside the back door.

Lauren dropped onto the chair. She heard Joe’s car start on the street and drive away. The windows of the house were empty, the pigeons sat along the gutter in the sun, and her gaze wandered past the roof to the blue sky.

What the hell just happened?

J
esus was still watching her. He was bigger this time, and stared down from the cream-painted wall in the empty waiting room. Ella sat against the opposite wall in a low chair. She’d heaved it right over near the entrance so she could sit and hold up a magazine and look past it down the corridor at the doorway of Julio’s room, where Nona and an older man, who Ella guessed was the father Guillermo, and two young girls sat around Julio’s bed.

Everyone but Sal.

The ward was quiet. A nun went past and Ella pretended to be reading. Where was Sal? Had he gone home? She’d waited fifteen minutes already. If he’d ducked to the bathroom he would’ve been back by now.

Jesus stared down from the wall. She stared back. She wondered if every room had one of these statues, what it was like to try to sleep under such close supervision. The hospital smell made her think of Netta. She’d phoned her a few times but hadn’t been around to visit for a few days. She felt irritated by the guilt of not going, but knew the guilt trip she’d get when she was there would make her feel even worse. You’d think once you were over forty you’d be free of that sort of stuff. She was realising it never ended.

She looked down the corridor again. Maybe Sal had gone home. If she had his number she could ring and see if he answered, but she’d left all the paperwork at the office.

Another nun came past and pointed to the hot water system on the wall under Jesus’s feet. ‘Please help yourself to tea and coffee.’

‘Thank you,’ Ella said.

The nun went on her way and Ella watched her turn past a sign that said
Chapel
.

A-
ha
!

She followed the painted signs through a maze of corridors and came to one that was lit with fake candles and smelled marginally less hospital-like than the rest. Double doors with stained-glass inlays faced her at the end. One side was open, and she sidled up and peered into the gloomy chapel.

Sal sat alone in the third row from the front.

Ella stepped back to consider her approach. She could pretend she too had somebody upstairs on their last legs, that she too had come here for solace. He would no doubt recognise her, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t start to develop a bond based on their shared troubles.

She took a deep breath and went in.

The chapel had five rows of seats either side of a central aisle. She walked steadily to the front, thinking of what she’d seen on TV. You bowed now, right? No, wait, you did a little dip-type action. She’d never been a church-goer, so couldn’t be sure. She paused there for a moment, looking up at the statue of Mary. Jesus was a baby this time, and snug in his mother’s arms. Not so starey.

She turned to notice Sal. ‘Excuse me. I didn’t mean to disturb you.’

His cheeks were wet, shiny in the light from the fake candles set along the front of the chapel. Ella suddenly meant it about disturbing him.

‘It’s okay,’ he said.

She didn’t know what to do. She looked at the open door. She could go out and wait. That might be best.

‘You’re that detective.’

She focused on him. ‘Yes.’

‘Have you got somebody in here too?’

She hesitated. ‘No.’

He was silent for a moment. ‘You’re here to see me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you religious?’

She shook her head.

‘I saw you go up the front there.’

‘You see it on TV; it seems like the right thing to do.’

He wiped his face. ‘I’m not religious either. My dad was driving me nuts.’

‘Oh.’

‘You can sit down if you want.’

She sat in the row in front, a few seats along.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed the back of one thumb with the ball of the other. ‘My mum died in this place too,’ he said. ‘My family has bad genes for cancer.’

Now what could you say to that?

He switched thumbs. ‘Is this about the phone call again?’

‘How did you know James Kennedy?’

‘Not well at all,’ he said.

‘So you do know him.’

‘He’s a courier. He delivered stuff to Rosie’s. I was there a few times when he’d drop stuff off. I saw in the paper that he was dead.’

‘What stuff did he deliver?’

Sal looked at his thumbs. ‘Goods. Cargo.’

‘That doesn’t tell me much.’

‘Whatever the club needed. Toilet rolls, cleaning products, paper serviettes.’

‘Alcohol?’

‘That too.’

‘Dodgy alcohol?’

‘Like what? Home-brew?’

‘Like stolen,’ she said.

‘How would I know anything about that?’

‘Because you’re only there occasionally, in a sort of supervisor’s role, right?’ she said. ‘So what do you know about?’

‘I don’t know who made that call. Though from everything you’re asking I can guess it was made to him.’

Ella thought that was a reasonable enough deduction.

Sal switched thumbs again. ‘I only knew James Kennedy well enough to nod or say hi to. Other couriers delivered to us too, you know. I’d nod and say hi to them as well.’

‘We can get a warrant for your records,’ she said. ‘We can get forensic accountants to examine all the club’s incomings and outgoings for the past ten years if we want.’

‘Based on what evidence?’

Ella looked away to little baby Jesus. ‘Why does your dad drive you nuts?’

‘Because he likes Julio best.’

‘How involved is your dad in the running of the club?’

‘Not very. People annoy him.’

She studied him. ‘Funny business to be in if you don’t like people.’

‘It was mostly my uncle’s thing.’ His eyes were dry now. He stared straight ahead.

‘Paulo?’

He nodded. ‘Died last year. He was single so Dad inherited his percentage of the company on top of his own.’

‘Cancer?’

‘That comes from Mum’s side. Paulo had a heart attack while porking a girl in a massage parlour.’

‘Oh.’ That deserved a moment. ‘He’d been in jail.’

‘Yep.’

‘Would he have been moving stolen alcohol about? Paying a courier with bottles of the stuff?’

‘I don’t know what he might have done,’ Sal said. ‘We were never close.’

‘Did Julio ever work in the club?’

‘Are you going to ask about everyone in my family?’

‘If necessary,’ she said.

‘I could get up and walk away.’

‘You could.’

He didn’t move.

Ella decided to go for it. ‘Sal, look at me.’

He turned his head. His eyes were dark in the dim light. He didn’t blink.

She said, ‘What do you want to tell me?’

He stared at her. He seemed to be holding his breath. The chapel was so quiet Ella could hear the electric buzz of the fake candles behind her. The air itself seemed to swell with meaning and consequence as he started to open his mouth.

‘Uncle Sal.’ The girl’s voice shattered the stillness. Ella started and saw a gangly blonde of about twelve in the doorway. ‘Mum says you have to come back now.’

Sal leapt to his feet. ‘Is Julio . . . is he awake?’

The girl shrugged, her gaze on Ella. ‘Mum just told me to get you.’

He hurried out of the chapel without a backward glance. Ella felt the air collapse around her. The girl swung on the door for a moment longer, staring at her, then ran off after Sal.

Ella looked up at the baby Jesus.
Did you engineer that?

Ella eased the car over the kerb. It occurred to her that she was turning into her driveway more slowly each day. She saw her face in the rear-view mirror and frowned at herself.
What are you, a man or a mouse?

She turned the car off and looked at the house. No sign of anything amiss. She opened the door and got out.

Sunlight glinted off the kitchen window that overlooked the side path. She went towards it more cautiously than she intended to, and tried to straighten her back. Muscle up! Nothing was going to be odd today. She’d checked and double-checked the fridge before she’d left that morning, and triple-checked the windows and doors.

She followed the path down the side and around the back of the house. The grass was as long as ever, the bins smelled, the windows were intact. The back door was locked and undamaged.

At the next corner she looked along the side of the house, seeing part of the front lawn. More intact windows. She could hear water running somewhere. A shower. In the neighbour’s place?

Or closer?

She looked up at her own high bathroom window. The frosted-glass panels were closed. She couldn’t see in. She reached up and put her fingertips on the glass, as if that would tell her something. It was neither hot nor cold.

She couldn’t be sure.

What should she do? Her first instinct was to ring Dennis, but if he came round and they went inside together only to find it was indeed next-door’s shower, she’d feel a right idiot.

If on the other hand she went inside to confirm it first, and there happened to be somebody lurking there . . .

I’m meant to be able to handle shit like this. They pay me to do so!

She went to the next window along, one at the side of her living room. The blinds were down. She stood on her toes and pressed her ear to the glass but she couldn’t hear anything clearly. It might be her shower, it might be next door’s. She didn’t know the neighbours and didn’t fancy knocking on the door to ask about their current ablutions.

The water meter!
She hurried to the front garden and flipped up the metal lid. There it was, in solid moving proof. The figures ticked over. Something in her house was hosing out water like a . . . like a hose.

‘Orchard.’ The line was crackly.

‘Are you busy?’ she said.

‘Just heading home.’

‘Would you mind coming via my place?’

‘On my way.’

Glad Dennis hadn’t asked why he was needed, Ella paced the footpath and stared down one side of the house then the other. Sweat prickled her armpits. Maybe the pipe had come off the washing machine. She’d heard that could happen. It could simply be the rush of water across the floor that she’d confused for the shower.

When Dennis pulled up she had to hold herself back from running over to him. He got out of the car. ‘What’s up?’

‘I think I heard something strange in my house.’

He locked his car and walked to the path. ‘Strange like what?’

‘Like the shower running full pelt.’ She felt herself start to flush. ‘It’s probably nothing. A pipe’s come loose or something.’

‘No sign of entry?’

She shook her head.

‘But . . . ?’

‘But the last two days there have been odd things.’ She explained about the pizza flyer and the rock and the shampoo bottle, and the cereal and milk and fridge.

‘Who have you told?’

‘They’re such pissy things, I thought I was doing them myself.’

He said, ‘So you told nobody.’

‘You can understand why.’

He looked at the house. ‘What do you want to do?’

‘Go and see ourselves.’

‘You don’t want the cavalry?’

‘What if it’s a pipe?’

He nodded. They started towards the house. Ella felt better having Dennis there, and almost certain now that it would turn out to be nothing.

At the front door he indicated the lock. ‘Want me to do it?’

‘That much I can manage.’ She stuck the key in and turned it then pushed the door wide open.

‘I hear it,’ Dennis said quietly.

Ella heard it too, even over the drumming of her heart. Her shower was roaring.
Oh shit, oh shiiit . . .

They edged through the house. The kitchen looked normal, as did the living room. The bathroom was along the short hallway. The door stood open. Ella had the sudden thought that they’d find a body in the shower cubicle – whose, she didn’t know. Her scalp tightened as they crept to the door.

There was nobody in the bathroom, dead or alive. The showerhead vibrated with the pressure of the water blasting out of it. Water splashed high on the blue tiled walls and across the floor. It gurgled down the drain. The air was humid. It looked like the hot tap was cranked all the way around, but the spray Ella could feel was cold.
Tank’s empty
.

Dennis motioned that they should search the rest of the house. Ella knew they had to leave the taps on for the crime scene officers, but hearing the rush of the water while they searched under her bed and in her cupboards put her teeth on edge.

‘Everything else seems fine,’ she said.

He looked around once more. ‘We should wait outside.’

He made the call from his mobile while they stood beside her car. Ella folded her arms tight against her body. She felt she could still hear the rush of the water. She shivered.