A Coffin for Charley (23 page)

‘I thought there would be someone soon. Is it Wally Watson?'

‘No, a chap I don't know, one of the new young ones.' Presently a young uniformed officer appeared.

‘Down to two-star places now, ma'am, and you said not to bother.'

‘And no likelies?'

‘No. Don't think trade is too good just now. Half empty, some of these places.'

‘Thank you,' said Coffin. ‘Both of you.'

At the door the young man said: ‘There's a smart new place opened out towards Harbourne … one of these country house places, so-called. Didn't try there.'

Coffin stood up. ‘I'll do that myself. Thanks.' It sounded made for Letty.

‘Let me check first, sir.'

He was back in a short time. ‘Bingo. A lady of the description you want registered over a week ago, she is there now … She is calling herself Mrs Brown.'

‘Thank you.' Coffin stood up.

‘The Arden Court Hotel,' said the young officer. ‘Forest Road, Harborne.'

‘Want me to come?' said Phœbe.'

‘No. But I'll be in touch.'

‘You better be.'

The Arden Court Hotel looked to be the sort of place which Letty would have chosen: it was quiet, set back in wooded grounds, and appeared expensive.

Across the road was a public park with a botanical garden; a large notice said this was an Open Day, which the number of cars outside bore out.

He parked his own car before the porticoed front door, walked through swing doors framed in gold that moved silently before him, and went across to the curving walnut desk on which rested a golden disk saying:
Please Register Here.
The desk was in the charge of a girl in good tweeds and pearls who was attended by a red setter.

‘I want Mrs Brown, please.'

The red setter yawned while the tweeded girl fingered her pearls, but she smiled and was polite. ‘Who shall I say, sir?'

‘Smith, John Smith.'

‘I'll see for you.' Her smile was still polite but more fixed as she picked up the telephone and spoke. She knew enough to be wary of these Smiths and Browns. ‘You can go up. Room 12, the first floor. Shall I get the porter to take you?'

‘I'll find my way.'

Coffin walked up the heavy carpeted stairs. There were flowers in big vases on the landing, big, heavy-headed chrysanthemums. He touched one sceptically as he passed, but it was real.

He knocked, a voice called him to come in. He pushed open the door.

‘Good afternoon, Mrs Brown.'

The room was large, with chintz curtains and a fourposter bed; about this room were scattered various possessions, like a travelling bag and a dark crocodile handbag which he recognized as Letty's. On the air hung the sharp green citrus note of the expensive scent he associated with his sister.

Letty was standing in the middle of the room, staring towards him.

‘You! I expected—' She stopped short, pressing her lips together in a gesture new to her but which spoke of tension. There were new lines on her face as well.

‘Whom did you expect, Letty?'

Instead of answering, she said: ‘How did you find me?'

‘It wasn't difficult.'

‘I didn't want you here.'

‘That was obvious … Come on, Letty, what are you doing here and whom are you expecting?'

She put her hands to her eyes, she was crying. ‘You've ruined everything. You haven't the least idea what you've done.'

‘I can see you're in trouble, Letty, and you'd better let me help.'

‘Just go.'

‘I didn't come all this way to be turned back.' He was looking round the room as he spoke. It was tidy enough, but on the bed was Letty's red top coat and by it a briefcase. Either she was on the point of going out or she had just come in. He went to the window and took a look. Her room was in the front from which he could see the park and botanical garden. ‘You'd better tell me what it's all about.'

Before she could speak, the telephone by the bed started to ring. Letty froze.

‘Answer it, Letty.'

Letty was breathing in shallow gasps, she did not move.

‘Answer it, or I will.'

Coffin took her by the arm and gently led her across to the telephone, he picked up the receiver. Then Letty grabbed it from him quickly. ‘Hello. Yes, speaking … Thank you.' Tension drained from her voice. ‘Just room service. Some laundry being returned.'

‘So it wasn't the call you were expecting?' He went over to the bed, lifted the briefcase and handed it to his sister. ‘Open this, will you?'

‘Put it back, leave it alone.'

Coffin returned the case to the bed where he opened it. Inside it was stuffed with banknotes. He turned back to his sister. ‘A telephone call that's expected and that alarms you, a bag full of money. Who are you paying off, Letty?' He sat down on the bed. ‘Come on, Letty, talk. I know the signs, it's either blackmail or ransom money and you aren't
the sort to give in to blackmail. So that makes it ransom and that makes it Elissa. Am I right?'

She did not answer, and he showed his anger: ‘Where did you get all this money? I know you emptied the Drama School Trust Deposit account because Stella told me.' He shook her shoulder. ‘Come on now, tell me.'

‘I mortgaged some property.'

Letty turned away, showing irritation. ‘Haven't you got a murder or two you ought to be getting on with? A committee on racial equality or some protest group you ought to attend to?'

‘I'm attending to you.'

The two of them faced each other like combatants. ‘Come on, out with it.'

Letty threw out her hands, as if she was giving in. ‘I've been worried about Elissa for some time, you know that much. She seemed to be behaving so oddly, out of character, she's always been a sweet, docile child, but suddenly she was spending too much money, using money that she should not have touched because it was not hers. I thought she might be into drugs, although she denied it. I thought she was using Ecstasy, which alarmed me, it can change people.'

‘It can kill.'

‘Yes, I thought of that, don't think I didn't. Then she dropped out of sight, which was when I hired Tash. He didn't do much, said she was still in London. Perhaps she was then. She rang me once, so I thought: At least she's alive.' Her breath was coming in gasps.

Coffin let her take a rest.

‘I do love her, but perhaps I haven't been a good mother, I've had too many other interests.'

‘I think you've been a very good mother.'

‘Do you really? That's a comfort … Then, about ten days ago, I got a letter. It said that the writer had Elissa and I was to wait for the next letter. That came the day following and said I was to take a hundred thousand in cash and go to Birmingham, book at this hotel and wait. That was when I sent the message to you, I knew you and
Stella would be anxious. I suppose I knew you would try to trace me.'

‘Underneath you wanted me to, didn't you? You shouldn't have tried to manage this on your own, it was stupid.'

‘There were the usual threats about what would happen if I got in touch with the police,' Letty muttered. ‘I couldn't risk it.'

‘And you were instructed to use this hotel?'

‘I did exactly what I was told.'

Coffin got up. ‘Where's that laundry? It's taking a long time to come,' he said suddenly.

As if in answer there was a tap on th door. A soft Irish voice said it was the chambermaid.

‘Let her in.'

Letty opened the door and took a pile of clean clothes from the arms of the girl. ‘A boy left this note for you,' she said. ‘Said you were expecting it.'

‘Letty closed the door, leaning against it clutching the washing. ‘I feel sick.'

‘Open the letter.'

‘I should have asked her about the boy.'

‘It wouldn't have done any good, it would be just a lad chosen at random and paid to deliver it.'

Letty opened the letter.

‘It says that I've got a man here and must get rid of him or else … They must be watching me.'

The car park across the road would provide good cover for anyone sitting in a van or car and using binoculars; he had been unwise to look out, he had been seen, Coffin thought. Seen but not recognized for what he was, he hoped.

‘Anything else?'

Letty was still staring at the note. ‘I am to go to the call-box round the corner and wait for a call.'

‘Taking the money?'

‘Yes.'

‘Is that all?'

For a moment she did not answer, as if she was far away
in some terrible world of her own. ‘I'm not to tell anyone.'

She looked at her brother, he could see terror and bewilderment in her eyes, she was very close to real panic. He felt sick himself but he controlled it. He was not neutral here, this was his niece, Letty's child. He remembered the last time he had seen her. She had been a leggy adolescent in black tights and a white sweater, but there was a promise of beauty in the fine bones and huge dark eyes. In spite of the brown eyes there was a hint of red in her hair which made him wonder if this was how his mother had looked.

No, I am not neutral, he told himself, I am not detached, I mind about Elissa, but all the more must I be professional.

For some reason, the face of Didi appeared before him and he remembered how Marianna Manners had looked as she lay dead, and the dirt and mouldering leaves in the hair of the first dead and last found girl, Mary Andrews, local Birmingham girl.

Letty spoke out of her despair: ‘I don't know what to do.'

Coffin told her.

The river is running cold

Letty leaned against the wall of the telephone booth which was one of the old-fashioned red boxes, she was glad of the relative protection it gave her. She closed her eyes and said a prayer under her breath; she spoke to a nameless, faceless god who must have love for mothers. Plenty of work for a god like that, she thought, he must keep busy. ‘Don't forget me and Elissa,' she was saying inside. ‘I know you have a lot of applications and I'm not a deserving case but keep me in mind. Do it for Elissa.'

She was following the instructions laid down in the note, standing in the box and waiting for the caller to ring.

Five minutes had passed, now six minutes, now seven. Still the phone did not ring. Perhaps it was all a game and
it never would. No, her brother had said, it will be slow, this is to break your nerve.

I have news for you, brother, it is already broken.
She stared at a stain in the floor, a dark irregular stain as if someone had bled there. They might have done, the phone-box smelt like a mixture between a misused lavatory and a charnel house. The new open booths with their plastic hoods may be open to the world but they are cleaner.

The stain reminded her of her life: irregular in shape and bits of it unpleasant.
There was so much I have never told you of my life, brother. I have only let you see the shiny successful outside, not showed you the uglier bits. You don't get where I have without a struggle.

I have never told you of my growing, brought up in children's home, have I?

I told Stella but swore her to secrecy. It wasn't that I didn't want to tell you but you never asked. Do you realize that you have never asked me? A brother and sister who had to learn to know each other, and yet you never asked any questions.

I thought it might be British reserve, but Stella said no, you were frightened. He had been alone so long, she explained, he had invented himself and invented his past and now he feared what he might really find out. He was in any case, she said, a hard man to know.

You can say that again, Mr Chief Commander. People who don't ask questions don't get answers. I know I puzzled you, but Stella saw through me at once. She knew that it had been hard for me, that I had battled to find an education and then to graduate with a first class degree, I'm not an intellectual, so it was tough. Then I had to create my looks; you called me beautiful once, but Stella knew I was manmade. I know now how to dress and how to put on make-up to create an illusion. She does it herself.

Stella said to me once: ‘What happened to you when you were a girl to give you that scar?' She knew it was a man, said she herself had suffered more than once; of course, she was in control now, she had learnt how. That's what she said, but she had never been raped as I was. Very nearly, Stella had said, but not quite and of course I never discuss it with John, men don't have the right reaction, they just get fierce and angry and that's not what you want, is it?

Oh well, maybe my business was not a rape but a quick and rough
seduction. So I don't like men all that much, I just like Me. ME in capital letters. But I wanted Elissa to avoid all that hassle, I wanted to give her a perfect beginning. A perfect life no one can guarantee. Now this has happened.

I am waiting for this telephone call, and I am getting orders from a man again which does something to my stomach. The bell is ringing.

Letty felt sick as she reached out to answer it. The line was live, humming, but no voice uttered.

‘Hello, hello?'

Still silence. She tried again. ‘I'm here, I know you are listening, please answer me. I'll do anything you want, just answer me.'

The line went dead.

Her brother had warned her about this being likely to happen. ‘They are testing you all the time and they will try this way and that. Hang in there, the phone will ring again, you bet.'

You are not the sort of woman who hangs around waiting for a telephone call, Letty told herself, you trained yourself not to be. It's humiliating.

They want to humiliate you, Coffin had said briskly, it's part of the process. Accept it and get on with it.
Thank you, brother.

‘Yes, here I am. Yes, I can hear you but your voice is not clear.'