The Drowners (24 page)

‘We need to wait,’ she said. ‘Gordon needs to talk to everyone – that’s why he’s called us all together.
No
, Lauren!’ she finished, turning away when Lauren became insistent. Just then Ricky trailed in, half-asleep as always and looking as if he’d been up half the night as well. For a wild moment Lauren thought maybe he’d been caught breaking in to the office but the continuing police presence made this unlikely. They were not going to let him wander about the scene of his own crime so, sadly from her perspective, he was not the mystery prowler. She settled back in her seat and waited as the last of the staff arrived and the babble of speculation rose around her.

Gordon finally managed to restore order and begin his announcement closer to ten o’clock than the official start time. He was brief, factual and as neutral as possible but it was difficult to present the previous night’s events in anything but a scandalous light. Garry Nugent, their senior probation officer, had suffered a spectacular nervous breakdown and
was responsible for the recent break-ins at the office. The police, he said, were trying to unravel the motive behind some of his actions but were hampered by the fact he refused to speak to them. Or refused to speak intelligibly, anyway. Garry, it seemed, had been visited by God himself and had been granted the gift of tongues. When he was being
questioned
, all the police got was an incomprehensible babble.

‘Well shit,’ muttered Sue. ‘Messiah complex do you think?’

Alex shrugged, too tired to really care. She had been unable to sleep last night when finally getting home and despite several strong cups of coffee this morning felt like curling up in a corner and just drifting away for the day. She forced her attention back to Gordon who was outlining the
arrangements
in place whilst the police still occupied parts of the building. The top floor, he told them, was sealed off for the moment whilst they searched Garry’s office. A locked
cupboard
at the back of his room had been found, along with a paper shredder and a large pile of client files, many of them current. The floor was ankle-deep in shredded paper and cardboard.

‘So that solves the mystery of the missing paperwork,’ he concluded. ‘I have requested a list of all the surviving cases so we can begin the task of restoring what is missing, as far as we can. Some notes may still be on your dictaphone tapes.’ He nodded towards to the officers. ‘Take a moment to check before reusing anything as that may be the only copy.’

It was a sombre little group that left for their offices as the meeting broke up. Lauren sidled over to Alex who gave her a stern look.

‘I can’t talk about it,’ she said. ‘I’m probably going to be a witness so I can’t discuss it with you.’

Lauren managed to look both hurt and indignant
simultaneously
. ‘Just wondered what the exact outcome might be,’ she said. ‘Reckon he’s not coming back so we’ll need to sort out the bets, won’t we.’

Alex didn’t know whether to laugh or yell at her. Everything she had gone through last night, all the disruption,
suspicions, extra work they had put in – and Lauren seemed most concerned about settling the bets. Sometimes, she thought, as she tramped down the stairs and made her way to her office, sometimes she was sure she would never
understand
these strange and unpredictable people.

Phil Watson was nervous. It showed in his rigid posture, the tiny trembling of his hands as he tidied the bar, repeatedly wiping down the same patch in front of him. It showed, especially, in the slight sheen across his forehead. He jumped each time the door opened and a customer came in and he replied to the greetings and orders in a vague way as if listening to something far away, something only he could hear. In truth, he was hearing the tearful voice of his wife as she whispered in protest at Max’s treatment of little Charlie Dodds. He was hearing his mother scolding him for his cowardice, for standing by as a bully picked on someone weaker. And most clearly of all he could hear his own voice railing at the stupidity of allowing these sorts of people to buy his loyalty – or at least his silence.

His train of thought was interrupted by the abrupt arrival of two new customers – new in the sense he’d never seen them in the Royal Arms before. He knew who they were, of course. Everyone on the Levels knew Ada Mallory, and his nephew had been a school friend of Charlie Dodds. Phil and Marie had often helped collect the boys from school and drive them over to football matches or to Glastonbury for an afternoon out. Phil had a deep respect for Lily Dodds, the way she had stepped in and looked after Charlie when his parents had abandoned him. Now he found it hard to look her in the face.

‘What can I get you ladies?’ he said rather gruffly.

Ada looked around at the half-empty bar, taking in the dusty tables, the unwashed windows and the cobwebs hanging from the picture frames.

‘Nothing for me,’ she said firmly. ‘Just a word in private if you don’t mind.’

Her tone left Phil in no doubt she didn’t care if he minded or not really. Calling for Marie to take over the bar, he lifted the flap in the counter and beckoned the two women through to the back. Marie had been preparing today’s lunch-time special and the rich aroma of chicken and bacon stew filled the kitchen. As she stepped through the door, Lily peered around and gave a sharp hiss as she spotted the pot bubbling away on the stove. Ada laid her hand on her friend’s arm gently before turning to the landlord who stood in the centre of the room, looking thoroughly miserable.

‘I guess you know why we is here,’ Ada continued. ‘That was right shocking, what happened to Charlie. Now!’ She held up her hand to stall any protest. ‘I know was not your doing and you was out the back when it happened.’ Ada paused, glancing towards the door leading to the bar. The clinking of glasses was clearly audible along with a low hum of conversation. It was obvious to them all that, despite Phil being in the next room, he must have heard everything that went on that afternoon.

‘I know,’ said Phil. ‘I’ve been thinking about it – can’t get it out of my head to be honest.’ He turned to Lily, holding his hands out in supplication.

‘If I could, I’d go back and change it but is too late now. I was a right coward and if there’s anything I can do to put it right, you just say.’

Ada nodded her head vigorously. ‘Reckon there is,’ she said. ‘He ’ent working down here on his own say-so, right?’

Phil sighed, hesitating before shaking his head. He had an idea of where this was going and he didn’t like it at all.

‘You know I can’t say,’ he mumbled. ‘More than my life’s worth – and more important, I’ll not do anything to bring trouble on Marie.’

Ada pursed her lips together and gave him her best hard stare.

‘Seems to me you already brought trouble here. Invited it in and gave it a drink too. Seems to me you need to sort this out afore the police gets it into their heads to come round
looking to talk to all them as was here the night poor old Micky Franks died.’

Phil felt the corner of his eye twitch as he tried to face down his formidable visitor. He was sure Ada was bluffing – but could he take the chance? As he struggled for composure there was a call from Marie at the bar.

‘Phil, can you come out? Someone to see you – says it’s urgent.’

Beating a hasty retreat, Phil slid through the door and found himself face to face with possibly the second to last person he wanted to see at this exact moment.

‘Now then Phil,’ said Tom Monarch pleasantly. ‘A word in private, if you please.’

Before Phil could stop him, he had brushed past and opened the kitchen door.

‘Ladies,’ he said as he found himself facing Ada and Lily.

‘Tom Monarch. Well now, I should have guessed.’ Ada’s voice dripped scorn as she squinted up at the big gang leader. Tom blinked at her for a moment and then a great grin split his face.

‘Ada – is that you then? My, it’s been – how long now?’ He stepped over and lifted her off her feet in a great hug.

‘Put me down you great oaf!’ said Ada, trying to wriggle free.

Tom was laughing as he let her go.

‘That’s no way to treat an old friend,’ he protested. ‘You’re looking good Ada. Sorry to hear about Frank by the way. Nasty business that.’

Ada’s husband, Frank Mallory, had been one of Derek Johns’ victims and the discovery of his mangled remains in a freezer formed the basis of many nightmares for the
policemen
who had found him. Ada had buried what was left of Frank but sizeable portions had not been recovered, including his head and hands. Local legend already had Derek Johns marked down as a cannibal and despite the estrangement from her weak and ineffectual husband, Ada still found it difficult to talk about what had happened to him.

‘Thank you,’ she said softly. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room and Phil hovered in the doorway trying not to draw attention to himself.

‘So Phil,’ said Tom before the landlord could slip out again, ‘seems to me you’ve got some explaining to do.’

‘I ’ent said nothing,’ said Phil. ‘They come here to ask about Lily’s lad. Seems he was picked on by some bloke from Bristol, in the bar last week, it was. They’m hoping I might know who he was. I was just explaining I can’t help ’um. Lots of people come in – don’t mean I know who they is.’

Lily, who had been hovering at the back watching
proceedings
with interest chimed in.

‘Maybe you didn’t give no names but I reckon we know enough to see something wrong is going on around here and when it starts hurting my boy I’ll not stand for it. I want to know who this Max is and where I can find him.’

Tom and Phil looked at Lily in astonishment but she folded her arms, pulled herself up to her full height and stared them down.

‘I mean it,’ she added.

Tom threw his head back and burst out laughing.

‘I can see you do,’ he said as he recovered his composure a little. ‘However,’ his face grew serious, ‘I would not
recommend
you go looking for him yourselves. Max is a rather impetuous young man and he has a lot of equally
unrestrained
friends. I’m sorry I ever introduced him to the Levels. That was my mistake and I apologize for it, but I think I should be the one to set things straight. Perhaps you could spare a few moments to tell me exactly what happened to – your son is it?’

‘My grandson, Charlie,’ said Lily.

‘Surely you’re not old enough …’ began Tom, but Ada interrupted him.

‘That’s enough of your smooth talk, Tom. You and your fancy long words too. We’ll not be fobbed off by a few
promises
so you listen and then you tell us what you intends to do. And if we don’t like it then we’ll just sort it out ourselves.’

Tom cast Phil a helpless look. He had forgotten just how determined (some said bloody-minded) Ada could be and there was no reasoning with her when she was in this mood.

‘Perhaps we could avail ourselves of the upstairs room?’ he asked. ‘I would be happy to order you ladies some lunch and we could sit and discuss this in a civilized manner.’

Ada hesitated for an instant before following a relieved Phil towards the door.

‘I don’t see why not,’ she said. ‘But don’t think we’re going to agree to whatever you say just ’cos you’s buying lunch.’

Tom smiled rather fondly at her and shook his head. ‘The thought never entered my head, Ada,’ he said.

Returning to work at the Highpoint station that Monday, Dave was both amused and alarmed by the stories of the break-in at the probation office.

‘So why did he take his clothes off?’ he asked Sergeant Willis, who shot him a sour look.

‘You’re the one with a degree lad, you tell me,’ he replied. ‘Never mind that for now, come over here and give me a hand. I’m right worn out, been up half the night and I can’t make head nor tail of this’

He led the way through the crowded main room to a
semi-private
corner. Here Willis had his desk, phone and filing cabinet but today the table was taken up by what seemed to be a large plastic television with a keyboard sticking out from the front.

‘Wow, you’ve got a computer!’ said Dave, throwing both professional reserve and protocol away in his enthusiasm.

‘Glad you recognized it. Most of that lot didn’t even know what it was when it arrived.’ Willis sat down at the desk and stared at the blank screen glumly.

‘What have you got on it?’ Dave asked. ‘What about the operating system – has it got DOS? Do you know what version?’

Sergeant Willis shrugged his shoulders and sighed heavily.

‘I thought you might know something about them,’ he said. ‘Do you think you can possibly explain how it works and why it’s supposed to help us without lapsing into a foreign language?’

Dave opened his mouth, caught sight of the suspicious expression on his sergeant’s face and closed it again.

‘I’ll do my best,’ he said. ‘Have you ever used a computer before, Sir?’

‘We went on a training day, last year it was. I think they looked like this but they were all lined up in a room and turned on ready for us. The stuff we did, it wasn’t much different from using the typewriters. Except it was a bit easier to correct a mistake, I remember that. When they said we’d be getting machines this year I thought it would be just the same, but this …’ He banged on the case in frustration. ‘This just sits here and don’t do nothing. Just takes up the whole bloody desk. Weighs a ton too.’

Dave looked alarmed.

‘You didn’t move it while it was switched on, did you?’ he asked.

Sergeant Willis laughed, a short, barking sound.

‘Might have done,’ he said. ‘Might have done if I’d the faintest idea how to switch it on in the first place.’

Dave nodded, relieved and frustrated in equal parts. He was itching to get his hands on the computer but the only way that was going to happen was if he showed his sergeant how it worked.

‘Okay, may I sit down?’ he said, drawing up a chair. Sergeant Willis nodded, shuffling his own seat over to one side in the cramped space.