Vacuum (16 page)

TEN

A
s she'd promised herself, Margaret Ember finished the Keep Fit session half an hour early. She showered and dressed, then set out for the house of Karen Lister and Jason Wensley in Carteret Drive. She'd driven them there that night after they'd had too much at a Monty do. Her clothes were more formal than she'd usually wear for her Keep Fit visits. She had on full-heel black patent shoes, a dark suit and crimson blouse under an all-wool, black, knee-length winter coat. She wanted Karen to realize that this was an important, special call. She wouldn't mention she'd tacked it on to the curtailed gym trip. It would sound like an afterthought. She'd like Karen to feel flattered that Margaret had taken obvious care with her turnout for this meeting. It might help things along.

To arrive unannounced at their semi was a gamble. She hoped Karen would be there alone. Most street and club trading went on in the evenings, and Jason should be out marshalling the sales people. Margaret knew she'd have to get very delicate with her questions if Jason should be at home. Well, not questions, plural – one central question: was a hit-back attack on Ralph and his family planned by the reshaped Shale company? He might refuse to answer. He might laugh the question away as outrageous and barmy. Or he might answer with lies. How would she know what
was
the truth? Did it seem conceivable that a member of one firm would disclose the outfit's plans to the wife of another firm's head?

Margaret believed Karen would be more sympathetic, more likely to feel moved by possible danger to the children. Perhaps she had picked up hints of what the company's attitude was towards the Shale deaths. Possibly, she could offer some reassurance – supposing, that is, there was reason for reassurance. If not, Margaret would have to think again about making a run from Ralph with the two girls. The insult and insolence of that police raid on Low Pastures had made her determined to side with him and abandon any thought of quitting. What was that corny song – ‘Stand by Your Man'? She'd felt it a necessity then. But now concern for their daughters came to dominate her thinking again. The responsibility gripped her. She found she couldn't believe in the competence of Ralph and his people to guard them. How
could
they be efficiently guarded when they had to go on with their normal lives? Only absence could properly guarantee their safety – and her own, though this did not rank as a major item with her.

The house in Carteret Drive seemed completely dark, but she parked and walked through the small front garden and rang the bell. Did she sense someone move in the front room of the neighbouring house, move furtively, sticking to the shadows, in case of being noticed? The curtains there were not closed, and the lights out. She had no response to the bell and rang again. She waited. She heard a door open in the house next door. An elderly woman, burly, round-faced, good-tempered looking behind slightly ornate spectacles, appeared in the porch there. She said: ‘Excuse me, but they're not at home. I hope I'm not interfering, but there's been quite a bit of what has to be termed “activity” there tonight, so we've been keeping an eye. Not nosing, you understand – we hate that kind of behaviour – but it's unusual for them to have so many visitors, of very various kinds. Frank and I wondered whether there's anything wrong. We're very fond of Karen. And then there's Jason, also. A nice quiet couple, usually. I'd be sad if anything had happened to Karen. Anything unfortunate, that is.'

‘No, nothing wrong. I'm a friend. I thought I'd drop in. What kind of activity?'

A man joined the neighbour in their doorway. He'd be about her age, mid-seventies, a little stooped, bald, thin, with a meagre grey moustache, watery but cheerful eyes.

‘I've been telling this lady there's been rather a lot of activity next door tonight, Frank.'

‘Activity is the word!' he said.

‘Yes, activity,' Beryl said.

‘We both came upon that term to describe things, quite separately from each other. Beryl said to me, “Such a lot of activity next door, Frank.” And I had been going to say more or less the same to her, such as, “There seems to be ongoing activity next door tonight, Beryl.” I don't mean noisy or troublesome in other ways—'

‘Not at all,' Beryl said.

‘But activity. Noticeable activity. I don't want you to think we're peering from the front windows all the time, prying,' Frank said. He gazed both ways along Carteret Drive.

‘Not at all,' Beryl said. ‘I've explained that.'

‘But we couldn't help noticing when a car arrived,' Frank said. ‘I happened to have stepped into the front room and was about to put the light on when I heard and saw the car pull up. The curtains were not closed. We don't use the front room very much. I had gone there looking for the atlas, to do with Mount Kilimanjaro, in Tanzania, which our grandchild, Amy, is doing a sponsored climb on, one of its peaks being the highest in Africa, its snows the subject of a film with Ava Gardner. Amy's a tough one, will have a go at—'

‘Who was in the car?' Margaret said.

‘I didn't switch the lights on,' Frank said. ‘I thought at first the vehicle had stopped outside
our
house. I was curious, as I think you'll agree is natural, but didn't want to seem to be staring, which would have been the case if I went to the window with the lights on behind me. So, I didn't bother about the atlas for the moment but moved into the middle of the room and looked at the car.'

‘Oh, and before this,' Beryl said, ‘I had seen Karen drive off in her blue Mini, which was quite usual on some evenings, when she goes to Tesco for the shopping. She leaves her car outside, but his is an expensive job and kept in their garage. Then, later, I wondered what Frank was doing, spending so long looking for the atlas, but no lights on, which would have shone into the hall, and I'd have been aware of, so I went into the front room, and he said about the car. We both watched, because this didn't seem usual in the way Karen going to Tesco was usual. Often she'll ask me if she can get anything for us there. She's
so
helpful. This type of kindness is not always shown by young people these days.'

‘Who was in the car?' Margaret replied.

‘Two men at first,' Frank said.

‘They went to the front door and rang the bell,' Beryl said. ‘There were lights on in the house, so we knew Jason must be there, most likely.'

‘Excuse me asking, but are you to do with the men in the car?' Frank said. ‘We don't mean to be hounding you with questions, but there does seem to be something  . . . something, well,
unusual
about such a string of people coming to their house tonight.'

‘A string?' Margaret replied.

‘This car and the men were only the first. That's why I referred to “ongoing”,' Frank said. ‘And then there might be someone hanging about outside, not necessarily coming to the house on this occasion, but interested in the house.'

‘Oh?' Beryl said. ‘I didn't know that.'

‘Watching?' Margaret said.

‘That's how it seems,' Frank said.

‘Did you recognize the men in the car, I wonder?' Margaret said.

‘Strangers,' Beryl said. ‘That's one reason it all seemed so  . . . well,
unusual
. We didn't refer to it at that time as “activity” because so far this was the solitary unusual aspect, and not
very
unusual, anyway. It was only two men in a car calling on them. Obviously, they might just be friends of Jason. I considered it would be over-egging to call it activity.'

‘Or ordinary household business, such as measuring up for fitted carpets or double glazing, which might have required two people,' Frank said. ‘Yes, it would have been an exaggeration at that stage – at that stage – to refer to the car and the men as activity.'

‘Yes, I see,' Margaret said.

Frank had a lengthy chuckle. She felt his lungs seemed well up to it.

‘What?' Beryl said.

‘Well, this lady is herself part of the activity now, isn't she?' Frank said. ‘We're discussing the activity with somebody who is a part of that activity! This makes it quite a remarkable development, in my view. Sort of circular.'

‘What were they like, the two men?' Margaret said.

‘It was dark, of course,' Frank said.

‘But even so, you'd get some impression,' Margaret said.

‘Frank thought late twenties both,' Beryl said. ‘I'd say one late twenties, the other older, perhaps thirty-two, even thirty-five. Jason is most probably in that age group – say between twenty-eight and thirty-three or four, so it could have been mates calling for him. We didn't discuss this at the time because things seemed quite ordinary, as we said. But later, when we began to think of it all as activity, we tried to remember what the men were like. This was to do with searching for an explanation for the activity, but only later when we'd come to the conclusion that what was going on had to be described as “activity”.'

‘They got out of the car and went up to the front door, just like you did,' Frank said.

‘Could you get a look at the faces when they were nearer, in the front garden?' Margaret said.

‘The thing is, we had to stand well back in our room or they might have seen us and thought we were having a snoop,' Frank said.

‘Which we were,' Beryl said. She giggled.

‘Well, yes, but only because we were concerned about Karen,' Frank said.

‘Right,' Beryl said.

‘Very understandable,' Margaret replied.

‘We're discussing all this with you since you have become an element in the activity, you see, and perhaps you'll be able to work out what's been happening,' Frank said. ‘You might see a pattern in it, on account of information you have, not available to us. You come at matters from a different angle.'

‘Soon, the two men, plus Jason, left the house and climbed into the car,' Beryl said.

‘How did they seem?' Margaret said.

‘In which respect?' Frank said.

‘When they went to the car,' Margaret said.

‘Karen asked us that,' Beryl said. ‘This is a sort of crux?'

‘You've spoken to her?' Margaret asked. ‘That would be when she'd come back from Tesco, would it?'

‘She came back and found the house empty because Jason had gone with the two men,' Beryl said.

‘Jason in the rear with one of them and the other driving,' Frank said.

‘What I meant was, did he appear to go willingly?' Margaret replied. ‘Or did he look scared, try to resist?'

‘I had an idea Karen wanted to ask us that, but she couldn't because she wouldn't like us to think they knew people who might come for Jason when she was out and make him go with them,' Frank said. ‘This is quite a good area, and I know Karen was very keen to fit in.'

‘Coming for someone in a car and trucking him off – it would be like one of those crime films,' Beryl said. ‘There's that old, grim phrase, isn't there, to “take someone for a ride”, meaning the someone is not coming back, owing to a fusillade, most probably in some secluded rural spot.'

‘It's not the kind of thing you expect to happen in Carteret Drive,' Frank said. ‘But that's how people always comment, isn't it – e.g., on TV news when police start digging up bodies in someone's back garden? Local people want the audience to realize it's not happening all the time in their district, discovery of multi remains under a private lawn. They always remark they're “devastated” by that type of discovery in their neighbourhood, though not as devastated as the victims being dug up.'

‘We saw Karen return from Tesco and carry her shopping inside,' Beryl said. ‘I think Jason had left some lights on, so she would not realize until then that he'd gone. She most probably checked their garage and saw his car still there. After a few minutes she came around and rang our bell and asked if we'd seen him go. She had never done anything like that before. We told her about the callers.'

‘This is when we both began to think of what was going on as activity, although we didn't realize at the time that the other one had also decided on that word,' Frank said.

‘At first, I didn't like it very much,' Beryl said.

‘What?' Margaret said.

‘Karen coming to ask. As though she thought we were always secretly watching what went on outside,' Beryl said. ‘Sort of spying. In a way it was cheek, like, assuming we'd have been in the front room observing because we did a lot of it. We
had
been in the front room observing, yes, but she shouldn't have guessed that.' There was a low fence and some shrubs between Margaret and them, and the division seemed to stop Beryl and Frank from asking her into their home.

‘But then Beryl came to understand there might be something strange going on tonight,' Frank said. ‘We could see Karen was really bothered, though she pretended something different – like, acting casual, sort of amused by the mystery of it, such as where had he skipped off to, the naughty boy?'

‘It didn't work,' Beryl said. ‘She wouldn't have come to us like that unless she was really worried; her face tense – mouth screwed up tight, breathing rather difficult. You'll know the signs. Well, anyway, we couldn't help more than that – speak of the car and the two men – and she went back to her own place to wait for Jason, maybe ring around to where he might have gone.'

‘And then, what was definitely a matter of “activity” happened,' Frank said.

‘Who do you imagine arrives and rings at the mauve front-door next?' Beryl asked.

‘Who?' Margaret said.

‘Beryl
thinks
it was,' Frank said.

‘Who?' Margaret said.

‘I've seen his picture in the media after that shooting in Sandicott Terrace, the woman and boy,' Beryl said. ‘This is a police officer, though not in uniform. He's the kind who wears plain clothes.'