The Price of Butcher's Meat (22 page)

I said, “What’s going off, luv?”

She said, “You said you were having trouble scrubbing your back,
remember?”

I said, “Then I’d best turn round, hadn’t I?”

And she said, “Oh no, I think I can reach from here.”

And somehow as we talked my push had turned into squeeze and she
didn’t need to reach all that far ’cos I found I were stretching to meet her.

Well, like I’ve heard a lot of the witnesses say, after that I don’t remember much, it all happened so quickly. Seemed no time at all afore I
found myself lying on my bed with Pet draped all over me, telling me
how great it had been. Already I knew I weren’t going to feel good about
it, but hearing her piling on the praise eased the pain a lot, till I realized
that, mixed up with stroking my ego, not to mention my undercarriage,
she were slipping in a lot of questions about what Daph Denham had
wanted with me. Even then I were so laid back in every sense, I got as
far as having a laugh and saying the silly old biddy thought some bugger
were trying to kill her afore it dawned on me that this bit of Q and A
were likely the main aim of the exercise.

The thrust of her questions told me her main concern was old Fester. Didn’t know how I felt about that, getting a shag from one woman
so’s she can pump me about another on behalf of the fellow she really
fancies! In the end it made my head ache, but, being a man, a little
thing like a headache didn’t stop Pet’s busy fi ngers from having a reviving effect.

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Knew I had to make a decision. At the moment I reckoned that if
ever I had to explain myself to Cap (which heaven forfend!), I could just
about justify what happened in the shower by pleading surprise attack
and long abstinence. This time I’d be going into it with my eyes wide
open. So, tho the prospect of seconds weren’t unattractive, I surprised
myself and Pet by rolling off the bed and saying, “Thanks for that, luv,
but I can’t lie around all day enjoying myself. Things to do.”

She didn’t speak, just got dressed and let herself out, but I could see
she were thinking maybe this hadn’t been all that good an idea! That
made two of us!

I felt like a drink and a bit of quiet to drink it in, so I got dressed,
strolled down to the gate house, and got Stan to call me a taxi. Told him
to take me to the Hope and Anchor, but when we got down there it were
all shut up. The taxi driver laughed when he saw my face and said,

“Where you from, mate? You don’t look French. But you’ll not find
many pubs here open before ten in the morning.”

I said, “It’ll open for me!”

Didn’t want to make a scene banging on the front door, so went
round the back, where I found the supply hatch open and I could hear
someone down in the cellar.

I hollered out, “Hello, the house. That you down there, Alan?”

A moment later his face appeared below me and once again he
proved he were my kind of landlord. Just like the fi rst time I showed up,
he expressed no surprise but shouted up, “Come on down, Mr. Dalziel.

If you don’t fancy the ramp, you’ll find the back door’s open.”

Time was I’d have just rolled straight down, but tempus fuckit, and
I went in through the kitchen and down a flight of stairs so narrow and
worn, the ramp might have been a better bet. And what I found there
made me wish I’d not bothered!

That cellar were like something out of an old Hammer horror fl ick.

Gloomy, cobwebby, full of black beetles and musty smells, and lit by a
single bare bulb, it were the best advert for aluminum kegs and plastic
pipes I’ve ever seen.

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I said, “Jesus, lad, they don’t build ’em like this anymore!”

He said, “Aye, there’s been a pub here since good King Charles’s
golden days, and I don’t reckon much has changed since then. I’m trying
to persuade Lady D we need a bit of modernization.”

I looked at the racks the beer kegs were lined up on. Hearts of oak
mebbe in the seventeenth century, they looked like hearts of wood rot
now, and the whole cockley edifice were propped up against the uneven
unplastered wall with what looked like a pair of clothes poles.

I said, “Bugger persuasion! Get Health and Safety in, they’ll soon get her
sorted. Looks to me like this lot could come tumbling down anytime.”

“Likely you’re right,” he said. “But her Ladyship don’t take kindly to
officials or any other bugger telling her what to do. Never fear, I’ll get
there eventually. Now let’s head off upstairs and I’ll get you that pint.”

Hadn’t mentioned a pint, but like I say, he’s a pearl among landlords.

I supped my ale and he had a half to keep me company. I really
weren’t worried about what Daph had said to me, so it were more just to
make conversation that I said, “Lady D a nervous type, is she?”

“You’re joking,” he said. “Not a nerve in her body. When she were out
with the hunt, she were famous for taking hedges and walls a lot of the
men balked at.”

“Gave it up, but, didn’t she?”

“Aye, well, I suppose the sight of your husband with his head looking
down his spine might seem like a bit of a warning. But it weren’t
nerves—she just enjoys life too much to want to leave it early.”

“So what’s she like to work for then?” I asked.

“Easy enough, so long as you do things her way,” he said. “As you’ll
likely fi nd out if you stay around long enough. Unless you go over to the
other side.”

I thought he meant die, and I said, “I don’t look that bad, do I?”

He grinned and said, “No, sorry! What I mean is, one way or another most folk in Sandytown are either working for Lady Denham or
they’re working for Tom Parker.”

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

I said, “But they’re on the same side, aren’t they?”

He said, “I think you’ll find Tom’s working for the town, but Daphne’s only working for herself. Best not to get involved if you can avoid it.

Get well soon, and leave! Now I’d best get back down to the spiders. If
you fancy another one, draw it yourself, okay?”

A pearl among landlords, did I say? A prince, I meant!

Any road, Mildred, that’s been the story of my day so far, that’s how
I’ve ended up here at ten of the clock in the morning, talking to thee,
with a pint in my belly, a shag on my conscience, and a tale of attempted
murder on my mind.

What’s the rest of the day got in store?

Nowt! Get well and leave, said Alan Hollis. That’s beginning to
sound like good advice. Don’t get involved, Dalziel. Forget everything
that happened this morning, Daph and Pet both. Pet’s not going to blab.

She may be willing to open her legs for Fester’s sake, but she’s not going
to tell him that! As for Daph, likely she’s just another dippy old woman.

Best steer well clear. She ended by inviting me to this barbecue she’s
having tomorrow. Everyone’s coming, she said. Well, not me! No, I’ve
learned my lesson. Keep to yourself, eat your greens, do your physio,
keep your flies buttoned tight, lock your door at night, and in another
week you’ll be fit enough to go home.

There you are, Mildred. No need to be ashamed of me.

I’m a changed man!

Now I think it’s time for that second pint.

19

FROM:

[email protected]

TO:

[email protected]

SUBJECT:

bloody

murder!

Cass—omigod I was so wrong—nobody kills anyone in Sandytown I said!

Listen—dont come

home—youre probably safer where you

are—no thats

stupid!—whats one death compared with what you see?—& why am I so excited?—not just horrified & scared—tho those too—but excited—do you feel like this sometimes?—or am I just wierd?

Sorry—Im babbling & you must be wondering about what?

Here

goes—what happened—in order—must have order—first rule of psychology my tutor said—be a still point in the midst of chaos—so—deep breath—Im a still point—here we go.

First—Im still here in Sandytown—why?—because Im an idiot—thats why!

After the do at the Avalon—I got to thinking—dont know why—that something was building up

here—dont know

what!—but woke up yesterday

feeling—if I go home now it will be like leaving the cinema just as the orcs come marching out of the gates of Mordor! OK—thats exaggerating a bit—but suddenly it seemed like Lady Ds hog roast would be a climax I shouldnt miss.

For once I wish to hell Id been wrong!

So I asked the Parkers if I could stay another day. Youd have thought Id given them fi rst prize in the lottery! Minnie fl ung her arms around me & gave me a kiss. I felt really good. So I rang home—the HB was furious—natch!—but mum was pleased—I think she suspects Ive met a nice young man—& with luck hell turn out a cross between her favorites Harrison Ford & Tom Hanks!

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So I spent yesterday writing up what notes Id taken—but mainly just laz-ing around.

& today—the hog roast!

Oh Jesus—that phrase—youll see!

Everyone was there—all the Parkers—natch—Di had brought Sandy G

along—so at least old Deaths Door was keeping her promise of getting her the S-town social scene! Toms bunch of wierdos were there too—including Godly Gordon—folk from the Avalon—Feldenhammer—Miss Sheldon the chief nurse—plus a whole bunch of people I didnt know—at their center a guy with a gold chain round his scraggy neck—probably local councillors enjoying a freebie—all the buggers are good for according to dad. Hunky bart & the Ice Queen were there—naturally. He looked like hed got out of the wrong side of someones bed—not mine! Having a row with his sister—caught my eye but just looked away when I tried a friendly wave. Sod you! I thought. Then—to my surprise—the IQ flashed me a big friendly smile—like she thought the wave was for her—or maybe she was just looking at someone important over my shoulder!

Lady D made a welcome speech—very gracious—thanked all the friends

& supporters of the consortium for all thier efforts to put Sandytown on the map—looked forward to everyone reaping the rewards—all the time contriv-ing somehow to give the impression this was her own personal party—apologized because thered been a hitch with the actual roasting bit—so no pork ready for another hour or so—but lots of other goodies—& buckets of booze—so enjoy!

The mob didnt need any encouragement! As freebies go—this was a good one. No expense spared. Top quality booze—no plonk—& acres of grub—china plates—real cutlery—nothing plastic—all laid out on tables on the lawn in front of the hall. Id expected a hog roast would mean roast pork or nothing—but not a bit of it. All tastes catered for.

There were half a dozen kids there—including Minnie & Paul—whod come prepared for a swim from the private beach. Not without an adult—Lady D

insisted.

Couple of adults volunteered—including Miss Lee—her of the long

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needles!—& Teddy got in on the

act—looking to win brownie points no

doubt! He ushered the kids inside to get changed.

I went to take a look at the famous roasting machine—situated well away from the hall—presumably for safetys sake—hidden by a heavy rhododendron shrubbery on the house side—& protected seaward from the prevailing east wind by a mixed copse of pine & beech.

Ollie Hollis was there—looking a bit chastened—ie like hed been rolled on by an angry elephant—which is probably what being told off by Lady D

feels like! But when I spoke to him kindly—he was happy to show off his machinery.

The roasting device itself isnt a spit but an ovoid metal basket into which the pig is fitted & which then revolves slowly over a long trench filled with burning charcoal. Its worked by a fine geared weight driven device—bit like a grandfather clock—takes Ollie about ten minutes to get the weight to its apogee—but then it will turn the basket for the next forty five minutes without human aid. The

whole thing is on big metal wheels—running on rails—starting in a wooden hut with a tin roof—where its kept out of the weather. The ground slopes down from the hut—so its easy to get the basket in position—& theres a winch inside so it can be hauled back up. Ollie didnt seem keen to let me take a look—maybe hes got a woman in there, I thought!

It was too hot to stand around the charcoal pit long—humid thundery weather—

plenty of sunshine & blue sky but lots of big lurid clouds bubbling up eastward too—making me think I might get that big storm across the sea Id been hoping for—so I headed back to the lawn.

Got there just in time to see the beach party setting off—Ted looking v Greek Godish—all rippling brown muscle & curling black body hair (did the Gk gods have body hair?) & a pair of swimming trunks that left just enough to the imagination! I hoped hed have enough sense not to be tempted into skinny-dipping. One thing dropping your kegs in front of a mature young woman—thats me!—quite another in front of kids. These days youd get ten years—no questions asked.

Everyone was well scattered by now—some exploring the woodland walks—oldies on the lawn in garden chairs—councillors not straying far from 1 5 6