Authors: Phil Kurthausen
Sudden Death (31 page)
‘With a face like this how can I refuse?’
‘Will you come to Sheffield with me right now?’
Erasmus looked directly at Karen. After she had dumped him, and when he had dragged himself out of his alcoholic fugue, he had spent months analysing how he had missed the iceberg in what had seemed an unsinkable romance. And when he had done this he had begun to recall moments that he never noticed at the time, when she had seemed distant, part of her brain engaged in other thoughts, of something being held back. He saw that on her face now. She wasn’t telling him everything.
‘What is it?’ said Karen.
‘Nothing. Sheffield, sure. Don’t they call it the Paris of the North?’
Karen picked up her car keys.
‘I’ll drive and no they don’t. It’s a shit hole. Come on.’
The red brick terrace house looked slightly different to the others in the street. Maybe it was the absence of replacement UPVC windows, the original sash frames remaining in place, or maybe it was the Greenpeace sticker in the corner of that window. What disturbed Erasmus was the letterbox, half open and unable to swallow the envelopes bearing tidings of low interest rates and other offers that had been rammed into it.
During the journey over the Pennines Karen had explained that she, Ella, and Louise had formed a small, close group of friends at school. She hadn’t said clique but she hadn’t needed to. Karen had been form captain, Ella her deputy and Louise captain of the hockey team. At the same time in their school careers Erasmus had reflected that he was just beginning to discover the wonders of dope and Frank Zappa. How he had ended up getting together with Karen was as inexplicable to him as the workings of quantum mechanics.
‘So tell me again, what’s Louise’s story?’
Karen shrugged.
‘I really lost touch with her. No Facebook, no nothing. Well, almost no contact for fifteen years apart from Christmas cards.’
‘Your two best friends and you hardly speak. What happened?’
Karen looked away and didn’t answer.
‘Does she live her with any family? A daughter perhaps?’
Karen looked apologetic.
‘I don’t know, I don’t think so. Her last Christmas card was from her and Milligan. Maybe a boyfriend?’
‘And you think what, that somebody has targeted you and Ella so Louise is next?’
She looked away.
‘Well, come on. Let’s go and put your mind at rest. Though looking at the post box I think she may be on holiday.’
Even as he said it he didn’t believe it. The house looked wrong, something out of place. As they walked across the deserted street towards the house Erasmus realised what it was. The curtains were open. If you were going away long enough for post to pile up like that would you really leave the curtains open?
Karen hit the doorbell. There was no response. She tried again.
‘Shit.’
Erasmus looked in through the front window. The living room was clean and tidy. Bare wooden floorboards, white walls with some modern prints and a white three-piece suite.
‘Look,’ said Erasmus.
Karen came to the window and cupped her hands to the glass before peering in.
‘Do you see that? In the corner on the floor?’
‘No, I, eww. Yeah I do, a turd.’
‘A fresh turd. I think Milligan may be a dog and he is definitely about. I’m going round the back. I want you to stay here.’
‘No way. I’m coming with you.’
Erasmus recognised the look. It was the Karen of fifteen years ago: tough, determined and focused on what she wanted. Which at the time hadn’t been him. He put the thought to one side.
They walked to the end of the street and at the end terrace he turned right into the alleyway. At the back of the terraces the alley narrowed, becoming a tight brick channel lined with weeds and rubbish. As Erasmus started walking he noticed two small children at the far end with moon faces and dark eyes. They regarded him for a moment like he was an alien species and then when he began to move towards him they ran away, disappearing into the mouth of an adjacent alley.
The alleyway stank of stale urine and decaying garbage. Erasmus guessed that the refuse collectors hadn’t been down here for many years, instead demanding residents pull their wheelie bins to the end where they could easily be loaded into the truck. The path itself was littered with hazards – he had already seen a couple of hypodermic needles – and the general filth and stink made him almost gag as he picked his way through the urban detritus.
Karen giggled.
‘Smells like your flat,’ she said.
‘You’ve never been to my flat.’
She grinned.
‘Not yet but I imagine you bachelors live in a state of physical and moral filth.’
‘I’m the exception and don’t call me a bachelor it makes me sound like an aging lothario.’
‘And that’s not an accurate description why?’
An answer didn’t immediately present itself to Erasmus.
‘I think this is her yard.’
He stopped next to a wooden door with peeling green paint. He tried the handle but it was locked.
‘Only one way – ’ He was interrupted by the sight of Karen jumping up and over the brick wall. ‘ – Over,’ he said to no one in particular.
He grabbed the top of the wall and pulled himself up and over. The yard was small and empty save for a few terracotta pots filled with the wiry remains of plants.
Karen was already at the back door and peering inside.
‘Something’s not right?’ she said.
‘What is it?’ asked Erasmus, joining her at the door.
‘The fridge is open. Why would the fridge be open if she wasn’t at home?’
Erasmus looked in at the small kitchen. Opposite the back door was a fridge with its door hung open. Inside Erasmus could see the rotting remains of what may once have been a block of cheese, some jars that were now growing a muffin top of fungus and a Tetra Pak that had begun to fold in on itself like a melted dolls face.
He tried the door handle and wasn’t unduly surprised to feel it give and turn in his grasp. Slowly, he pulled the handle down and then entered the kitchen.
‘I don’t like this, Erasmus,’ said Karen from behind him.
‘I’m just going to check that everything is OK?’
He knew already from the familiar, sweet smell that had hit him in the guts as soon as he opened the door that everything was most definitely not going to be OK. He turned back to Karen. She looked frightened. Erasmus guessed that the smell, unfamiliar to her, but horrific and primal, had sparked an urge to run and run quickly.
He placed both hands on her shoulders.
‘Wait here.’
This time there was no objection. She nodded.
Erasmus walked into the kitchen and then out into a small hallway. There were framed pictures on the wall. Some showing the same young middle-aged woman in various far-flung places. She was tall and not unattractive but not in the same league as Karen. He recognised Kilimanjaro, Machu Picchu, skiing shots and group holiday photos.
He cursorily checked the front living room that they had seen from the window, carefully avoiding the fresh dog turd. He looked at it though and saw something glint. He kneeled down and studied it more closely. There was the pin of a silver earring entombed in the shit.
He stood up and walked back into the hallway, pausing at the bottom of the stairs.
Slowly he climbed. At the top of the stairs there was a landing and a small bathroom that led off it. He ignored it and walked towards the far, front bedroom that looked out onto the street. It was from here that there came the sound of something wet and sloppy being moved and from where the sweet, sickly smell was clearly emanating.
The door was closed. He took a deep breath and pushed it to one side.
Everything happened quickly.
From out of the bedroom sprang a fat, angry Alsatian, yellow teeth bared and drooling. Erasmus dropped his shoulder and ducked, the snapping jaws of the dog missing his bandaged hand by a whisker. He span and with his right arm he pushed the dog faster along its trajectory and smashed its large head into the wall behind him. The dog let out a whimper and sank, lifeless and heavy, to the floor.
Erasmus let out the breath and stepped into the room. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom he struggled not to vomit. What lay on the bed wasn’t recognisable as Louise. The face and most of the flesh from the legs had been scraped away by canine teeth. He felt the bile rising and dry retched a few times. When the retching stopped he took another look at the remains of Louise. Her left arm hung lifelessly from the bed. The deep cuts on her wrist that had run deep and long had now dried and the crusted blood was like a ruby bracelet. Below her, where most of the blood had pooled, were streaks where the dog had greedily licked.
He felt his stomach begin to give way again and at the same time he heard Karen coming up the stairs. With one hand holding his stomach, he pushed the door open and stumbled out just in time to catch Karen in his arms.
‘Don’t go in!’
He saw her look at the dead dog, than at his face and recognition was followed by despair.
‘Oh Louise!’
He held her in his arms and slowly moved her away from the door.
‘Oh no, oh fuck, look Erasmus!’
Erasmus looked down at the dead dog. Hanging from its collar was a small metal badge. Unmistakably, it was the shape and colour of a black rose.
‘We need to call the police.’
***
The police had been sympathetic. The crime scene officers had taken a look at the scene, taken pictures and measurements and then in a bored manner had taken statements from them both, interjecting their work with stock phrases and prefacing most questions with ‘so sorry for your loss’.
The lead officer, who still bore signs of recent acne, once he had established Erasmus didn’t know Louise, had taken him to one side and whispered conspiratorially, ‘Single women in their late thirties are the worst, we must mop up two or three a week. Ovaries drying up, you see.’
Erasmus had felt the urge to punch him but instead just thinly smiled and asked whether they could leave. The officer had shrugged and said they could leave any time: there was no evidence of foul play, it looked like a pretty standard suicide, and they would be in touch in due course about the inquest.
They travelled back to Liverpool in silence for most of the way until at the top of Snake Pass Erasmus broke the silence.
‘Why did you tell me to not say anything to the police about why we were really there? I thought you wanted them to investigate?’
Karen grabbed his arm, a look of despair on her face that he had never seen before.
‘Pull over!’
The rain was driving onto the windscreen, exploding in huge splats, but Erasmus steered the car onto the grass verge. Before he had even applied the handbrake Karen had opened the door and was out.
She slammed the door shut and he watched her through the rear view mirror as she placed her hands on the stone wall that ran alongside the road. The moor that sloped away on the other side was spartan and turning the colour of prison walls in the fading light.
He left her to cry for a few seconds and then stepped out. The rain and wind hit him like a slap to the face, snapping his breath away. A car hurried by.
When he reached her he could see that she was sobbing, the sound softened by the howl of the wind and rain.
He put his arm around her but she pushed it away and turned to face him.
‘What can I say! I didn’t tell them because they won’t believe me! No one believes me! I don’t know whether I believe myself but I don’t want to leave my daughter alone for a minute longer. She’s coming back from school now, I should be there, and waiting for her making sure she’s safe. What if Ethan is waiting? I don’t understand why this is happening!’
She was hysterical now.
He went to hold her gain, she pulled back but this time he wouldn’t be denied. He put his arms around her and she collapsed onto his chest.
He put his lips next to her ear. ‘I believe you. I think someone killed or persuaded Louise and Melanie to kill themselves. It’s you, Karen, someone is trying to punish you and you need to think why they would do that? What connects you, Ella and Louise? Find out that and we find Ethan.’
The sobs began to subside.
‘What is it, Karen, what connects you? There’s something you’re not telling me? Why didn’t you mention the Black Rose to the police?’
She shook her head.
‘We were friends that’s all. Maybe Louise had the badge made as a reminder of those days, I don’t know, Erasmus, I don’t know why. You’re the only one who is taking this seriously. I knew the police wouldn’t believe me.’
‘I think I may know a police officer who will take you seriously.’
Karen gripped him tightly.
‘Thank you, Erasmus,’ she moved forward and kissed him long and deeply.
‘I love you,’ she whispered.
She looked up at him, her beautiful face, tender and raw. It was like he was looking into the eyes of the twenty-three-old he had betrayed all those years ago.
‘I love you too,’ he said. He didn’t add that he had never stopped.
There was an unmarked police car waiting for them as they turned into Karen’s driveway. As they got out of the car Inspector Pobrosky emerged from the driver’s side. She parted her dark red lips and smiled. Erasmus couldn’t but help notice her toned, athletic calves and the fitted dark blouse she was wearing. He put an arm around Karen, an instinctive protective gesture for his sake more than hers.
‘Erasmus Jones, I got your message and – ’ she noticed Erasmus’s swollen face. ‘Christ, what happened to you?’
‘Allergic reaction.’
‘To what?’
‘A fist.’
‘Is this what you wanted to speak to me about because you could have reported an assault at your local police station.’
‘No, this – ’ he pointed at his face ‘ – has nothing to do with what we want to tell you.’
Karen took her keys out.
‘Is this the police officer you told me about?’
‘Yes,’ he replied.
‘You didn’t mention she was pretty?’
