Murder On Account Page 2

“Yeah. And that’s my bedroom, and that’s the bathroom.”

  “Just the one bedroom?”

  “I can’t afford two. Do you have any idea how much the rent is on this place?”

  “A couple of hundred a month?”

  “Dream on. You couldn’t rent a wheelie bin for that around here. Multiply that by five, and you’re getting close.”

  “That’s ridiculous. We don’t pay that much on our mortgage.”

  “Do you still want to move down here?”

  “Where shall I put my stuff?”

  “You can have the bedroom, and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “I can’t let you do that. I’ll take the couch. Or we could share, like we used to when we were kids.”

  “No, thanks. I still remember how you snore.”

  ***

  The next morning, Jen offered to make her own way back to St Pancras, but I wasn’t about to let her face the rush hour alone.

  “Is it always as bad as that in the mornings?” By the time we reached the station, she looked shell-shocked.

  “Not always. Sometimes it’s much worse.”

  “I don’t know how you do this every day.”

  “I thought you said you’d like to move down here?”

  “I would, but I’d have to live somewhere more central.”

  “You’d need to win the lottery first.”

  “I’d better go. My train is boarding.”

  “Okay.” We hugged. “Give my love to Rick and Alice.”

  “I will. And don’t forget to give Mum a call.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Promise?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  “I hope you don’t get the sack.”

  “I kind of hope I do.”

  That wasn’t actually true. Although I could have gleefully strangled Roy most of the time, I needed the money. Hopefully, when I got to the office, he would have forgotten about his threat to give me my cards.

  ***

  R.K. Investigations was located on the second floor of the Sidings Business Centre, which was on Heath Road—a side street equidistant between St Pancras and Euston stations. The building was old, cold and damp. Many moons ago, it had belonged to British Rail, but it was now home to dozens of small businesses.

  When I arrived, there were two police cars in the small car park in front of the building. Seeing one there wouldn’t have been particularly unusual because some of the businesses housed in the Sidings were more than a little shady. Two, though? What could have warranted that?

  I didn’t have long to wait to find out because it turned out that the police were in R.K. Investigations. One of them, Constable Joe Sharp, I recognised. He and I had had several run-ins over the last couple of years. He was standing next to Sheila’s desk; she was in floods of tears.

  “What’s going on, Sharpy?”

  “It’s Constable Sharp to you.”

  “It’s Roy!” Sheila sobbed.

  “What’s he done now?” I turned to Sharp. “What have you charged him with?”

  “He hasn’t been charged with anything. He’s dead.”

  “What? How?”

  “Mr King’s body was discovered in the early hours of this morning. First indications are that he was murdered.”

  Chapter 2

  A man, dressed in plain clothes, came out of Roy’s office, and looked at me like I was something nasty he’d just trodden in.

  “Who’s this?”

  “This is Kat Royle, Guv.” Sharpy answered before I had the chance to speak. “She works for the deceased.”

  “What exactly happened to Roy?” I said.

  “I ask the questions, Ms Royle.”

  “You can dispense with the Ms Royle. It’s Kat. And who are you?”

  “DCI Menzies. Would you come with me, please?” I followed him into the inner office where he sat at Roy’s desk; he didn’t invite me to take a seat. “Tell me, Kat, what exactly is it you did for Mr King?”

  “Whatever he needed me to.”

  “Filing, making the tea, that sort of stuff?”

  “No. Sheila does all the admin. I help on some of Roy’s cases.”

  “You’re a private investigator, then?” He smirked.

  “Not really.”

  “But you just said you helped on the cases?”

  “I do—err—did, but Roy would never have called me a P.I.”

  “What did he call you?”

  “Every name under the sun.”

  “You and he didn’t get along, then?”

  “We weren’t exactly bosom buddies. Are you going to tell me what happened to him? Who killed him?”

  “We’re still trying to establish that. Where were you last night between the hours of eleven and two?”

  “In my flat.”

  “Which is where?”

  “Lewford.”

  “Can anyone vouch for that?”

  “Yeah. Jen.”

  “Your girlfriend?”

  “My sister. She was visiting yesterday; she stayed the night.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “I’ve just put her on a train back to Leeds.”

  “I assume you have her phone number in case we need to speak to her?”

  “Do you think I killed Roy?”

  “At this stage, we’re simply trying to gather information. Your sister’s phone number, please?”

  I grabbed a pen from the desk and scribbled Jen’s number onto a scrap of paper. “Is that all?”

  “For now, yes, but I need you to give your details to Constable Sharp before you leave.”

  “Leave? Can’t we stay here?”

  “Not today. We’ll be conducting a search of these offices.”

  “When can we come back?”

  “It depends what we find, possibly tomorrow. Constable Sharp will keep you posted.”

  “When did the police show up?” I asked Sheila, over coffee in Joe’s Café, which was just around the corner from the Sidings.

  “Ten minutes after I arrived.”

  “Do you know how Roy was killed or where they found his body?”

  She shrugged. “They wouldn’t tell me anything.”

  “Do you reckon Westy might have done it? He was really angry when he came in here on Saturday.”

  “I don’t know. It’s possible, I suppose.”

  “Thank goodness this didn’t happen while Jen was up here. It would have totally freaked her out.”

  “I’d forgotten your sister was coming down. How is she?”

  “Fine. She said she’d like to move down here, but she soon changed her mind after she’d experienced rush hour, and discovered how much my rent is.”

  “What are we going to do now?” Sheila took a sip of coffee.

  “We can’t go back to the office until the police give us the all clear.”

  “I meant long term.”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

  “I suppose we should start looking for another job.”

  “That’ll be fun.”

  “You’ll be okay, Kat. You’ve got bags of experience.”

  “Doing what? Being Roy’s gopher?”

  “You’re a lot more than that. You’ve run lots of cases single-handed.”

  “Who’s going to believe that? It’s not like I can ask Roy for a reference, is it?”

  “Do you think anyone will have told his daughter?”

  “Anne? The police will have informed her, won’t they?”

  “I hope so.” Sheila checked her watch. “I’d better get going. Don has a hospital appointment in an hour. What are you going to do now?”

  “There’s not much I can do. I might just head back to the flat and check out the job websites.”

  ***

  The journey back was much better because the rush hour was long since over, so I was able to get a seat all the way home.

  As I made my way from the tube station, there was no sign of Walt or The Brick; I assume
d he must be on his mid-morning tea break.

  I lived on the third floor of seven, and I’d just stepped out of the lift when my next-door neighbour, the Widow Manning, came hurrying over.

  “Kat, have you heard? He’s dead.”

  “I didn’t know you knew Roy?”

  “Who’s Roy?”

  “Isn’t that who you’re talking about?”

  “No. I meant Walt.”

  “How?”

  “Heart attack, I think. Someone found him slumped on the begging step just over an hour ago.”

  “Poor old Walt. What’s happened to The Brick?”

  “What brick?”

  “That’s his dog’s name.”

  “I never knew that. I’ve got him in my flat. He was wandering around in the road, so I brought him up here before he got himself run over.”

  “What are you going to do with him?”

  “I don’t know. If I take him to the pound, they’ll put him down. He’s too old and ugly to rehome.”

  “Couldn’t you keep him?”

  “I’d like to. I miss having a dog since my Buster died. The problem is I won’t be able to take him for a walk. My old legs aren’t up to it. What about you?”

  “Me?”

  “If I take him in, would you walk him occasionally?”

  “I’m out at work in the week.”

  “You could do it before you go, and then again when you get back. He’s an old dog, so he won’t need to go very far.”

  “I’m not sure about this.”

  “Please, Kat.” She looked me up and down. “You could do with the exercise.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So, will you do it?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “No, not really.”

  ***

  I phoned Jen. “I’m just checking that you got back okay.”

  “Yeah. The reservations were messed up, but I managed to get a seat anyway. I was going to wait until tonight to call you because I thought you’d be busy.”

  “It’s been a funny kind of a day so far.”

  “How so?”

  I told her about Roy’s murder and Walt’s heart attack.

  “Oh gosh. Do they know who murdered your boss?”

  “If they do, they aren’t saying anything. They even asked if I had an alibi.”

  “Seriously?”

  “It was just routine. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Where does that leave you now?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “You’ll be out of a job, won’t you?”

  “Looks like it.”

  “You should come home.”

  “This is my home, Jen. I’ll find another job.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll work something out. Do me a favour, would you?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t tell Mum about any of this. I don’t need her on my back too.”

  “Okay, but promise you’ll think about coming back if you can’t find anything.”

  “I can’t come home because I have a dog now.”

  “How come?”

  “The Widow Manning has taken Walt’s Labrador in, but she wants me to take him for a walk occasionally.”

  “Who’s the Widow Manning?”

  “The old lady who lives just down the corridor.”

  “Why do you call her that?”

  “It’s what everyone calls her.”

  “I suppose the exercise would do you good. Anyway, I’d better go. I have to pick up Alice from Mum’s.”

  “Give her a kiss from me.”

  “I will. Be careful.”

  “I always am.”

  ***

  I couldn’t be bothered to make dinner, and besides, the only thing I had in was a couple of Pot Noodles.

  The Gerbil and Oyster, my local pub, was a stone’s throw from my building.

  “Hi, Kat. How goes it?” Kenny, the landlord, had Billy on his shoulder.

  No, they weren’t acrobats; Billy was a parrot or parakeet—I never did know (or care) what the difference was.

  “Sod off!” the parrot said.

  “Nice to see you, too, Billy.”

  “Sod off!”

  “You really do need to teach him to say something different, Kenny.”

  “He does, but he’s under strict instructions not to repeat it in public. Your usual?”

  “Yeah, and can I see the menu?”

  “You’re hilarious, as always.”

  The sign outside the pub said they served food, but what it didn’t say was that the menu comprised of only three choices: fish and chips, scampi and chips, and ham sandwiches with or without chips.

  “Don’t you think it might be an idea to expand your offerings?” I said, more out of hope than expectation.

  “Why would we bother? There’s everything on there that a person could want.”

  “There’s nothing for vegetarians for a start.”

  “Of course there is: Chips.”

  “Just chips?”

  “Plus a slice of bread if they want one. You haven’t gone and turned veggie, have you, Kat?”

  “Me? No. I’ll have the fish and chips.”

  “Peas?”

  “Do you have garden peas?”

  “No, just mushy.”

  “In that case, I won’t bother.”

  Don’t get me wrong. Normally, I was a big fan of the mushy pea, but not those served up in the Gerbil and Oyster. I mean, since when were peas brown?

  I found a seat near the bar; it wasn’t difficult because the place was deserted. Most of Kenny’s customers arrived after seven, and were still in there long after the doors were locked at eleven. That’s when the card games started. At least, that’s what I’d been told by Robbie, the greengrocer.

  I had no expectation of seeing my meal any time soon because Becky, Kenny’s partner, made all the meals from frozen. She’d recently invited me to see her new chest freezer, and I’d done my best to look suitably impressed.

  “Isn’t that your boss?” Kenny shouted from behind the bar. “On the news.”

  I had to shuffle my chair a few inches to the left so that I could see the wall-mounted TV. Sure enough, they were running a news item about Roy’s murder.

  “Yeah, that’s him.”

  “Who murdered him?”

  “No idea.”

  “Where does that leave you?”

  “I’m not sure. Looking for a job, I guess.”

  I was half way through my fish and chips when I sensed someone hovering close to my table.

  “Leo? What do you want?”

  “That’s no way to greet an old friend, is it?”

  Leo and I had been an item, briefly. He’d seemed nice enough at first. That was until I discovered his wife thought so too. Somehow, he’d conveniently forgotten to mention her.

  “Do you mind? I’m trying to eat my dinner.”

  “It looks nice. Can I nick a chip?” He reached for one, but I slapped his hand away.

  “I asked what you wanted, Leo?”

  “I heard about Roy, so I thought I’d check that you were okay.”

  “You’ve checked. I’m okay. Bye.”

  “You’re a hard woman, Kat. We had some good times together, didn’t we? Don’t you remember that Sunday when we spent the whole—”

  “I don’t remember anything about our time together. I barely remember you. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to eat my dinner in peace.”

  “Do they know who murdered Roy?”

  “Not as far as I’m aware.”

  “You could always move in with me until they catch them. It would be safer.”

  “I think Gina might have something to say about that.”

  “We’re on a trial separation.”

  “She kicked you out more like.” I grinned. “Where are you staying?”

  “At my brother’s gaff.”

  “Bobby? I thought he was living in a squat
?”

  “He is, but it’s alright. They’ve got electricity and everything.”

  “Tempting as that is, I think I’ll stay put.”

  “Your loss.” He shrugged. “You’ve got my number if you change your mind.”

  I was just on my way out of the pub when I spotted Rose Hawkins, sitting in a corner, all by herself. Rose was one of Lewford’s most colourful characters. She ran the fruit and veg stall on Lewford market, and spent most of her time shouting out the price of bananas. Or potatoes—or whatever else she happened to be trying to shift on that particular day. Because she spent so much of her time shouting, she sometimes forgot where she was, and would still yell during a normal conversation. Rose was Lewford born and bred; there was no one she didn’t know, and everyone knew her. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her sitting all by herself, and I’d certainly never known her to be so quiet.

  “Hey, Rose.”

  “Hi, Kat.”

  “Are you okay? What are you doing, sitting in the corner all on your lonesome?”

  “I’m alright.”

  She clearly wasn’t. “What’s up? Has something happened? It’s not your Fred, is it?”

  “Nah, he’s alright. He’s down the snooker hall with his brother.”

  “Something’s wrong.”

  “It’s me old mum.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. She’s not—?”

  “Nah, nothing like that.” Rose pointed to the chair next to her. “Grab a pew.”

  “Can I get you another drink first?”

  “I’m alright, thanks.” She waited until I was seated. “I got a phone call last night, to say Mum was in hospital. She’s eighty-five, so I feared the worst. They wouldn’t tell me much over the phone, so I got a cab and shot straight over there. She was in a right state. If I get my hands on the scumbag, I’ll rip his nuts off and choke him with them.”

  “Who? What happened?”

  “Some guy showed up at her door and said he was there about the leccy. I’d told her to always ask for ID, and she said she had, and that he’d shown her his card. It could have been anything cos her eyesight ain’t up to much. Anyways, she lets him in, and he checks the meter, supposedly. Then, after he’d left, she saw that one of the drawers in her sideboard wasn’t shut properly. He’d taken all of her jewellery. She’s shook up something rotten.”