The Price of Butcher's Meat (42 page)

But dear old Daph was no slouch when it came to fi nding angles! Somehow she found out the truth about Doris & she put it to her—if she insisted on the terms of her lease—Lady D would go public—taking the high moral ground—insisting that the good name of Sandytown would be soiled forever—if they permitted a known con artist to continue practicing her un-qualified medicine there!

Nothing Doris could do but agree to move out. When she told Gordon he was furious—hence the row with his hostess at the hog roast.

But none of this did he want the police to know—because of what it would do to his sisters reputation if it got out.

I told him he was crazy—he was under suspicion of murder for Godsake!—he had to come clean. But he was adamant. He owed Doris more than he could ever repay. In any case—he said—in this country innocent people dont get condemned for crimes they havent committed.

I started to say—if you beleive that youll beleive anything.

Then suddenly Novello & Wield appeared.

The sergeant said—change of plan—we need to talk to you a bit more Mr Godley—

& he started to help Gordon out of the car.

At the same time Novello opened the front passenger door. I saw her pick something up from the seat—& start slipping it into her pocket.

I leaned forward & got hold of her wrist.

It was a mobile phone—& it was switched on.

T H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 3 0 9

Novello didnt pull away or anything—just turned bright red—confi rming what my mind was telling me.

Id been put in the car with Gordon Godley to get him to talk—& uglymug Wield & cunningbastard Pascoe had been listening in on everything he said!

What was worse—Gordon had paused half out of the car & was taking in this little scene—only—from the way he turned those big gentle eyes on me like a dear old Labrador whose own er has inexplicably given him a hard kick—he had jumped to the conclusion that I was in on it!

I yelled—no! I didnt know!—really!—

But already Wield was marching him away from me.

Novello started to slide across into the drivers seat—saying—right—Ill drive you home now—

I opened the door & got out.

—fuck you—I said—fuck you & all the rest of you—Ill walk—

OK—not the most elegant of put-downs—I thought of several much better on my way back up the hill—but none of them good enough to damp down my anger. When I got back to Kyoto Minnie was waiting for me—gagging for a blow-by-blow account—but I brushed past the poor kid & came straight up to my room to e you. O God Cassie—I wish you were here so we could talk—face to face. Something like this happens & suddenly everyone looks different—everything has at least a double meaning—theres nobody to trust.

Id pack my bag & head for home—except I know that Id just take all this other baggage with me. You used to say one day it would get me into real trouble—always putting the most sensational interpretation on the most ordinary of incidents. But this time Im not fantasizing.

Shit has happened—is still happening—here in Sandytown—& Im not leaving till Ive helped clean it up!

Lots of love

Charley xxxxxx

4

I need to watch myself!

Felt a bit knackered when I got back and had my last chat with Mildred, and thought I’d take forty winks. When I woke, it had been at
least an hour and I’d have been happy to make it longer! It felt real good
lying there on my bed—like a day off at home when there’s no reason to
get up afore opening time.

But I knew it weren’t really good. In fact, it were downright bad.

When a Home starts feeling like home, that means you’re getting insti-tutionalized! All them proud words to Pascoe about being a cop first, a
patient second, seemed just hot air. Didn’t have a good CID thought in
me. Needed to snap meself out of that, so rolled off the bed, doused my
head in cold water, and settled down to read the Heywood lass’s
e-mails.

That helped a lot, made me ashamed of myself. I mean, here’s me, the
great detective, can hardly drag himself out of bed, and here’s this young
lass, bright as a button, sharp eyes taking everything in, nebby as a nor-rie, always making connections, not scared of two and two making five,
in fact sometimes she could jump to conclusions for England!

I laughed out loud at the bits she wrote about me.

Could Pete be right about her writing that note to Daph? Not likely,
I’d say. Any lass brought up on Stompy Heywood’s farm’s going to have
a right down-to- earth attitude to the animal kingdom. No cruelty, but
no sentimentality either. Mind you, owt’s possible when you’ve been a
student. Whatever, it’s real good intelligence, this stuff. Bet she hates
Ivor’s guts for spreading it around! Hope Pete’s got the sense to be straight
with her. Could be useful if he keeps her onside.

T H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 3 1 1

But I can’t sit around here all day when there’s work to be done. I
told Pete I’d take statements from Fester and Pet. Who should I start
with? Pet’s handiest, but I reckon the longer I keep her waiting, the gabbier she’ll be. So I’ll take a stroll up to the clinic and see if I can wipe
that smile off them teeth! I’d best take these e-mails with me. Don’t
want Pet doing a search for illegal substances and coming across these.

Any road, man carrying a file always looks more offi cial.

And just in case Fester breaks down and makes a full confession, I’ll
stick my friend Mildred in the file and leave her running!

5

Andy! I didn’t hear you knock.

Knock? Oh aye. Short-term memory still on the blink. Sorry.

Never mind. It’s good to see you. How’re you doing? You look well.

Come on in, take a seat, let’s review your progress.

Nay, Lester, that’s not why I’m here. Not doctor and patient this time.

This is official. I’m back on the job. Mind if I put another cushion on
this chair, raise me up a bit? That’s better. Always like to look a suspect straight in the eyes.

Suspect?

Did I say suspect? Witness, that’s what I meant. No way you could be
a suspect, is there? Not the way you felt about poor old Daph.

And what way was that, Andy?

Best make that
Superintendent
, just for the record. You loved her,
didn’t you?

Loved her? Good God, no! Not in any romantic sense. We were
friends, I hope. And I admired her energy, her drive. But as for
love . . . !

You mean you weren’t secretly having a passionate affair then?

No, we weren’t! I can’t imagine who’s been saying these things!

Well, let’s think. That would be . . . everybody!

T H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 3 1 3

Then everybody was wrong. It does happen, you know.

Oh aye? Like in elections your side of the pond, you mean? Whoops,
let’s not get political, eh? But you can see how folk got the wrong end
of the stick. I mean, I only saw the two of you together a couple of
times, and both times she were giving your tonsils the old tongue
massage. And then again, when you went to Switzerland on exchange last year, didn’t she straight off book a holiday so she could be
on your doorstep? From where I’m sitting, looks like a straight case of
love to me.

Not on my side. I can’t answer for what Lady Denham may have felt,
but there was no reciprocation, I assure you.

Recipro—what you said. That a trick-cyclist term for shagging?

Don’t pretend to misunderstand my vocabulary,
Superintendent.

I have read your case notes, remember? I know just how bright
you are.

Does that mean I can use you for a reference? All right, no bullshit. Just
to get things quite clear, she fancied you, but you didn’t fancy her, right?

Yes, I think that captures the essence.

So all this face sucking, you put up with it for the sake of politeness?

Or what?

I certainly didn’t wish to offend her.

Why not? The woman’s stalking you. Why didn’t you wish to offend her?

I think stalking’s putting it a tad high.

Following you halfway across Europe ain’t stalking?

She was on vacation! Our Swiss clinic is located in a very popular
winter sports area.

3 1 4

R E G I N A L D H I L L

Nay, don’t get your stethoscope in a twist. All right, have it your way.

She weren’t stalking you and you weren’t running away from her.

Running away? Who said that?

No one said that. I said you
weren’t
running away. Man in your job
mebbe ought to listen a bit harder. Patient tells you he likes fl uffy
towels and you hear he likes fucking owls, that could get you into real
bother with the GMC. Listen, Lest, let’s play this straight. Poor old
Daph’s dead. I want to fi nd out who killed her. You too, right? So cut
the crap, let’s talk turkey, no witnesses, no recording, just thee and
me, man-to-man.

You’re quite right. Murder’s more important than personal vanity. I’m
sorry. Yes, Daphne fancied me; yes, I was happy to encourage her
because she was generous in her support of the Avalon; and yes, I
probably allowed what to me was merely a flirtatious relationship to
go too far. I prided myself that my daily experience dealing with the
clinically deluded and deranged meant I could quite easily take care
of a fond old lady. I use fond in all its senses. Originally it meant . . .

No need to explain, Lest. I got a lad working for me who can conju-gate
and
. But you were wrong, right?

Oh yes. I was wrong. I was horrified to discover that her sex drive, far
from being in abeyance, was . . . rampant. And yes, I did run away.

Not openly, of course. There were good clinical reasons, my exchange
with Dr. Kling of the Davos Avalon was always on the schedule. But
deep inside I knew I was running away.

And she followed you.

She brought her niece and nephew out to Davos for a skiing holiday,
yes.

How did you feel about that?

Shocked when she turned up at the clinic—a courtesy call, she
termed it—but also somewhat reassured that she was still sufficiently
T H E P R I C E O F B U T C H E R ’ S M E AT 3 1 5

in control of herself and sensitive enough to the opinions of others
to have cloaked her visit under the guise of a vacation. She was not
yet quite
Vénus toute entière à sa proie attachée.

She weren’t going to jump you in public, you mean?

That’s it. She was very conscious of herself as Lady Denham of Sandytown Hall, the apex of the social pyramid in this neighborhood. She
had needs that age had not diluted, I can confirm that. I suspect
she must have satisfied them somehow, but it would be done with
the greatest discretion. No, my attraction was social as much as sexual.

She didn’t just want to ravish me, she wanted to marry me.

Oh aye. I’ve been there. The ravishing’s not so bad, but bugger the
marrying!

That’s not quite how I saw it.

No. I understand. Tell me, Lest, just between mates, you said she had
to be getting it somewhere, so what about you? Did you ever, tha
knows, give her one?

Please! I really don’t care for the way you phrase that question . . .

That means tha did! Good for thee, lad! No need to look embarrassed. To them as asks, it ought to be given, at least once. So what
happened?

I am not going into details. There was drinking involved. I don’t think
my performance matched her expectations. But it didn’t seem to put
her off. She still acted as though we had an understanding if not quite
a formal engagement.

Expect she felt that once she got you under her wing and med sure
you started the day with a proper Yorkshire breakfast, she’d soon bring
you up to scratch. In fact, she probably wanted a progress report.

How’d you measure up yesterday?

I don’t follow you.

3 1 6

R E G I N A L D H I L L

Yesterday, when you banged Daph for the second time. How was it for
her?

Now see here, I don’t know what you’re . . . Wait, I get it. The au-topsy indicates sexual activity, right? Dear God, you’re not saying the
poor woman was raped?

No, it looks like she did it with someone she wanted to do it with, and
that made me think of you.

Well, you can think again. No, categorically. Not me.

No? Oh well, nowt that a DNA test won’t prove. Right, let’s get on to
the hog roast, Dr. Feldenhammer.

What happened to Lester?

Nay, that were me being chummy with a witness to get the best out of
him. After everything you’ve just told me, the case is altered. Congratulations, sunshine, you’ve got yourself promoted from witness to
suspect! Always start off polite and formal with suspects, that’s my
way, just in case there’s any complaints later.

Is that so? Then shouldn’t you read me my rights?

What’s them when they’re at home? Listen, lad, we both know if tha
starts getting seriously worried, you’ll be waving the star-spangled
banner and demanding to see the sodding U.S. ambassador. So just
tell me all you can remember about the hog roast.