3 Inspector Hobbes and the Gold Diggers (41 page)

Denny volunteered to wash the pots. Hobbes, letting him get on with it, answered Daphne’s questions about Nutcase Nugent, a notorious former resident of Blackcastle, who’d featured in Hugh Duckworth’s notes. I went upstairs to relieve myself, and had just finished washing my hands when I overheard Kathy talking on her mobile. She was angry and sounded even more American than usual.

‘No,’ she said, ‘I won’t do it. Not now, not ever. This game of yours stops here … How could you tell me such a pack of lies? … Baloney, Mom! When have you ever done anything for
my
good? … Yes, I am going to tell him … Tonight. He deserves to know … He’s been really kind … no, he’s nothing like you described him … Well, sure, he is one big, ugly dude, but he’s a good man … I wish he really was my daddy.’

As I headed back downstairs, I wondered how Hobbes would react to suddenly not having a daughter again.

Daphne was helping Denny put things away, while Hobbes, a mug of tea in his hand, was telling them the legend of the Blacker Mountain crocodile that had finally put an end to Nutcase Nugent.

Kathy entered the kitchen, her eyes rimmed with red, breathing heavily, but in control.

‘Excuse me for butting in,’ she said, ‘but I have something important to say. I just wish I didn’t have to. I wish everything was different.’ Facing Hobbes, she gulped and took a deep breath. ‘I’m not your daughter.’

‘I know,’ said Hobbes with a sad smile. ‘I always did. We saved you some supper.’

24

Kathy stood and faced us, tears rolling down her cheeks, her eyes puffy with crying. I could see no nastiness or arrogance in her, just unhappiness and, strangely, dignity. She wiped her face. ‘I’d like to explain myself before anything else.’

‘Very well,’ said Hobbes.

‘We’d better leave you to it,’ I said, getting up, embarrassed.

‘No, Andy, please stay,’ she said. ‘Mrs Goodfellow, too. All of you stay, if you don’t mind. I’m fed up with secrets. I’m sorry Dad … Inspector, but I’ve only just found out that some of what I told you, some of what I believed, was completely wrong.’

I sat back down.

Denny shrugged his massive shoulders and stood in the corner by the sink, as immobile as a sculpture. Mrs Goodfellow pulled up a chair and joined us at the table.

Kathy stood quite still, except for the rise and fall of her chest as she fought to stay in control, her fists clenched, her face as white as skimmed milk.

‘I want to apologise,’ she said.

‘That’s the word I wanted to say,’ Denny murmured and resumed his silence.

‘I didn’t intend to deceive you,’ said Kathy. ‘I didn’t intend to deceive anyone. I really thought I was your daughter. I hope you believe me?’

‘We’ll see,’ said Mrs G, trying to look stern.

‘I’ll start at the very beginning,’ said Kathy.

‘A very good place to start,’ I responded, before a frown from Hobbes quelled my attempt at lightening the mood.

‘I’ve lived with my mom most of my life and for most of the time it was just the two of us. She told me my daddy hailed from England and that she’d met him when he was on vacation, but he’d gone home before I was born. She said he was a cop and his name was Hobbes.’

Mrs G snorted and shook her head. Hobbes held up his hand to quiet her. ‘Go on,’ he said.

‘I never thought I’d ever meet him, because Mom had no idea where he lived. Anyway, we got by somehow or other, even though we moved about all over the States when I was little. Mostly this was because she kept getting into trouble and running away. For a long time she used drugs and sometimes she was put in jail. At those times, nice folk looked after me and I had a bit of schooling. After I graduated high school, we kind of settled down. I found a job waitressing and Mom got herself clean of drugs.’

‘That is good,’ said Hobbes. ‘I warned her of the risks back in’67, but she was young and foolish then.’

‘She’s still foolish,’ said Kathy, a snap of anger in her voice.

‘So,’ I asked, ‘why did you take drugs yesterday?’

‘I didn’t knowingly. That punk, Rupert, put something in my soda.’

‘Is that why you threw him in the lake?’

‘Pardon me, sir,’ said Denny. ‘Miss Kathy di’n’t throw him in. It was me. Master Gerald wanted the young master to feel what failure was like.’

That I’d almost forgotten him testifies to the change Hobbes had already wrought, and made me wonder whether he might always have been quiet and respectful had it not been for the rottenness of the Paynes.

‘OK,’ I said, trying to compute the new data and staring at Kathy. ‘How come you were there?’

‘I was getting my head together and I heard a scream.’

‘Andy,’ said Hobbes, ‘interesting as your misunderstandings are, can you please let her continue?’

‘A few years ago,’ said Kathy, ‘Mom persuaded me to use the few dollars I’d saved and go into business.’

‘What sort of business?’ I asked, unable to envisage her as a businesswoman. She didn’t seem the type.

‘We opened a shop selling bison products.’ She grimaced.

‘Bison?’

‘Yeah, we called it
Buy Some Bison.
Neat, huh?’

‘What did you sell?’ I asked, suddenly intrigued.

‘Bison leather goods mainly: belts, shoes, coats, trousers, wallets, bags and hats. We also sold fresh and canned bison meat, which is low in fat and cholesterol. The trouble was, when I say sold, I really mean stocked. We never sold too much of anything, but somehow, we kept going for a few years. In the end it became clear, even to Mom, that it was just a matter of time before we went big time bust. It was then she chanced on the video of you on YouTube.’

‘So, she still recognised the old fellow,’ said Mrs Goodfellow.

Kathy nodded. ‘At once and, I tell you, it was one helluva shock for her. I wondered what was wrong and thought she was going to faint, but she showed me and said I was your daughter. Then she took up a bottle of Tequila and drank herself unconscious. She took two days to sober up, which gave me time to think.’ She wiped her eyes again. ‘I wanted to see my daddy.’

‘And get some money off him?’ asked Mrs Goodfellow with a disapproving sniff.

With a wry smile, Kathy nodded. ‘I’ll not pretend that it didn’t cross my mind, but I really wanted to meet you … him. Ever since I was a kid, I suppose I’d always had this crazy idea that one day you … he would come along and rescue me, but really, I just wanted to see you and talk and find out something about you. I hoped you’d help me understand something about myself. So, I booked a cheap plane ticket to England and found my way here, hoping you’d welcome me and … and you did. You really did, even though I must have been a shock.’

Hobbes, frowning, nodded.

‘At first, I was totally scared of you. Mom had said you were a big guy, but I hadn’t realised how big. I put on a front and I hope I didn’t offend anyone too much. I guess I might have come across as rude.’

‘Perhaps a little,’ said Mrs Goodfellow, her face betraying a smile.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Kathy. ‘I soon came to like you, and then when you caught me that time I fell, it was like I’d really come home. I’d dreamt of living in a place like this and leaving all my problems behind but … but …’

‘You worked out that I wasn’t your father,’ said Hobbes.

‘You couldn’t be. You’re just too … different. You’re different to everyone, except to Featherlight and Denny. They’re just like you.’

‘Indeed, they are not!’ said Mrs Goodfellow, a look of almost comic indignation on her face.

Hobbes, holding up a hand to quiet her, couldn’t hold back a smile.

Kathy wiped her eyes and blew her nose on the tissue Mrs Goodfellow offered her. ‘I don’t mean you’re like them in everything, but seeing the three of you together this afternoon made me certain. I don’t know what you are and it doesn’t matter, because you’re a good man anyway, but you are different. D’you know what I mean?’

‘I believe I do,’ said Hobbes.

I was impressed. It had taken me far longer to conclude that Hobbes wasn’t like the rest of us and I was still amazed at my insight, though it puzzled me why more people hadn’t made the jump. Even so, and despite few being as close to him as I was, I often felt I didn’t really know him at all. It was difficult enough to understand another human’s thoughts, and it was almost impossible to know precisely what was going on in an animal’s head. It wasn’t that I considered him an animal, except so far as we were all animals. He was a man, but a non-human one, if that made any sense.

‘Mr Hobbes is a Mountain Man, jus’ like me,’ said Denny suddenly, ‘and so is Mr Featherlight. I didn’t think there was any others like me till I came here. They said our kind was evil. I think I was.’

‘But,’ said Hobbes, ‘you aren’t anymore.’

‘Whatever you are,’ Kathy continued, ‘I knew you couldn’t be my daddy and, when I called Mom tonight, I finally made her admit it. My real daddy’s some guy she met in Pittsburgh long after you’d left her.’

‘The old fellow didn’t leave her,’ said Mrs Goodfellow. ‘She left him when his money ran out. She even took his car.’

‘I gave it to her,’ said Hobbes. ‘Her father was ill and she needed it to visit him in Detroit.’

‘Her father was killed in Korea in 1952,’ said Kathy, ‘and granny never remarried. Neither of them ever lived in Detroit. Mom lied.’

‘She always did,’ said Mrs Goodfellow, smiling at Hobbes, ‘only you were too much of a gentleman to acknowledge it. She would have taken your trousers if she’d thought there was money to be made from them.’

A tint of red appeared on Hobbes’s cheeks. ‘She did take them, which made things awkward. I had to improvise.’

‘Was that when you started wearing that awful tarpaulin caftan?’ asked Mrs Goodfellow. ‘I did wonder.’

Hobbes nodded.

‘So,’ said Kathy, ‘I’m not your daughter, but I didn’t mean to trick you. Mom lied, although tonight she said you were the best man she’d ever known. I think that might have been true.’

‘I doubt it,’ said Hobbes with a sudden grin that was swiftly eclipsed when he saw Kathy’s expression of sadness.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘for everything. I really didn’t know. I’ve packed my bags and I’ll find myself a hotel and get out of your lives.’

‘There’s no need to be hasty,’ said Hobbes. ‘You’re welcome to stay for as long as you want.’

‘But there’s no room,’ she said.

‘We can always make room, can’t we, lass?’

Mrs Goodfellow nodded. So, to my surprise, did I.

‘Thank you.’ The relief in Kathy’s voice was echoed in her face.

‘That’s settled then,’ said Hobbes, smiling.

‘But, there is one thing,’ said Kathy. ‘How did you know I wasn’t your daughter?’

‘I calculated dates and times. I did the math, as you Americans say, and it was impossible.’

‘Oh,’ I said, surprised, ‘I thought it was because you hadn’t … umm.’

‘Hadn’t what?’ asked Hobbes.

‘Hadn’t … umm … hadn’t noticed enough similarity.’

‘There was that as well,’ said Hobbes. ‘Although I knew, it appeared to me that you genuinely believed it …’

Mrs Goodfellow shook her head and chuckled.

‘… and,’ Hobbes continued, ‘I didn’t want to let you down. Now you’ve discovered the truth, I hope we can still be friends?’

Getting up, he embraced her in an immense bear hug.

My eyes moistening, I had to blink until they cleared. Daphne gave my hand a little squeeze.

Hobbes released Kathy, who was displaying a genuine, all-American smile that lit up her face. I could almost see her from PC Poll’s point of view.

‘Well,’ he said, rubbing his hands together, sounding like a carpenter sanding rough wood, ‘I’m glad that’s all sorted because Denny is going to show me where the stolen gold is. Andy, there’ll be room for you, too, but I must warn you, it will be a long night.’

Although a small part of me would have preferred to stay behind with Daphne, I could not turn down the opportunity to go on a treasure hunt, and within a few minutes I was sandwiched in between Featherlight and Denny in the back of Billy’s hearse. All I could do was to look out through the windscreen between Hobbes and Billy as the headlights lit up the streets of Sorenchester. Soon we were on the dual carriageway, sided by fields, stark and empty, under a moon that was a little past fullness. The halo around it suggested there’d be a frost later.

‘Where are we heading to?’ I asked.

‘You’ll see,’ said Hobbes, looking over his shoulder with an infuriating grin. ‘Eventually.’

I had to be content with that, and since neither he, nor any of the others seemed in the mood for talking, I tried to relax. It was warm and the drone of the engine and the pulse of the tyres on the road lulled me to sleep.

When I awoke, the car was stationary, the windows misty with condensation, and I was on my own. Bleary-eyed, feeling a little sick and headachy, I climbed out, shivering as I pulled up my collar and tried to get my bearings. The place looked familiar, yet strange under the moonlight, and it took a moment to realise I was back in the Blacker Mountains and that we were parked beside the derelict manor house, where Billy had dropped us off just over a week earlier. It seemed incredible that so much had happened in such a short period, but that was so often the way with Hobbes.