Murder on Monday

greasy bases, lids with dried potato stuck to the rims, all in a heap with cake tins, rusty from the damp and never used. A strange four-legged device that looked like something Nurse Surfleet would use in dire circumstances, turned out to be a juicer from the ark, with lemon pips still clinging to its smelly interior. Lois reached deep into the cupboard and her hand met something cold and hairy. She gasped involuntarily, recoiling with a shudder. Get on with it, gel, she told herself and pulled it out with the handle of the broom. It was a rat, very dead, decomposed beyond putrefaction and light as a feather on the dustpan.

Quite enough for one day, Lois decided, and, tipping the rat into the bin with all the other rubbish, she rinsed the grubby pans quickly, washed out the cupboard with bleach and replaced everything in some kind of order. It was a quarter to twelve and she had promised to be home early to talk to Derek over lunch about Josie, the club, and Melvyn.

In the empty vicarage, the telephone was silent. It was a cold, unfriendly silence, unbroken until Peter White returned alone to his unwelcoming house, whistling sadly to himself.

? Murder on Monday ?

Twelve

Melvyn and Josie walked slowly, holding hands, along the edge of the muddy canal which wound its way round the backs of warehouses and deserted industrial sites in Tresham. “You should be in school,” he said, but without much conviction. “What did you tell them this time?”

“Said I had to go to the dentist,” said Josie, giving his hand a squeeze. “They never ask for a note or nothin’. I reckon you could bunk off most days and nobody’d care.”

“Don’t be stupid,” said Melvin, turning to face her and frowning down into her smiling face. “Bunkin’ off most days’d be pushing it. If you’re up to something, don’t push it. That’s what me and the lads say, and it’s right.”

Josie knew who the lads were and they frightened her. They were in reality a sad little gang of school-leavers with no prospects, no jobs to go to, spurning further education as fit only for nerds, and prowled about the town wasting their last year of school as lawlessly as they could without being caught. Most of them were suspended from school and should have attended special classes at the community centre, but none of them went, and nobody checked. Melvyn was not one of them, but used them when he needed to, and they were flattered by his apparent enjoyment of their company.

Josie stood on her toes and kissed Melvyn’s frowning face. “OK, OK,” she said. “I’ll watch it. Anyway, where shall we go, now I’ve got the time off?” She didn’t much care where they went, so long as she was with Melvyn.

“Want me to show you a secret place?” he said, and grinned.

The factory had been a flourishing business for years, but had failed to compete with the growing number of cheap furniture supermarkets in the area. After a brief struggle, the end had come, bankruptcy declared, and the gates had shut for the last time. The building dated from a time when canal traffic had been an accepted form of transport, and its rear walls bordered the towpath. Now Melvyn led Josie by the hand through a half-open doorway and into a storeroom deep inside the building. Here stood the melancholy remains of a once healthy factory: chairs with broken legs, an oval mirror broken into shards of splintered glass, a rickety bed complete with dirty mattress pushed into one corner. Empty beer cans and used syringes crushed under fleeing feet were evidence of visitors Josie preferred not to think about. She realized with sudden panic that Melvyn was leading her through the detritus to the uninviting bed in the corner.

“I could get done for this, you know,” he said tentatively, bending to kiss her.

“Sod you!” yelled Josie, pulling away from him. “I’m not getting done! Let me go!” But she had no cause for alarm. Melvyn released her at once, and watched her run off with the hint of a smile on his face.

¦

“Well, I don’t like it. She’s too young to go down to that club,” said Lois. “It’s for adults and I should think they’ve got an age limit anyway.” She and Derek had eaten fish and chips straight from the paper.

“Wipe your hands, gel,” said Derek as Lois handed him an apple. “Everything’ll taste fishy.”

“Don’t change the subject,” said Lois, rinsing her hands under the tap. “Why did you say we’d think about it? And after I’d said she couldn’t? Honestly, Derek, sometimes I think you do it just to annoy. As if I hadn’t got enough to worry about, what with the boys, and Mum, and Christmas, and…and…”

“…and Josie,” said Derek.

“And Josie,” Lois nodded, and put her arms round Derek’s neck.

“Ere, none of that!” he said. “That won’t change me mind. I only told her I’d think about it, anyway.” They sat in silence for a minute and then Derek said, “Perhaps we should find out a bit more about this Melvyn first? Would that make you happier?”

“Depends what we find out,” said Lois grudgingly. But she recognised a climb-down when she saw one, and agreed that they’d do a bit of ferreting about and see what emerged. “Don’t even know his surname,” she said. There was a silence, and then she had a bright idea. “I could ask the postman,” she suggested. “Not much he doesn’t know.”

Derek nodded, and stood up, stretching and smiling. “Got to get going,” he said. “And isn’t it time you got out the notebook and jotted down today’s developments in the case of the strangled spinster…?”

Lois moved towards him, but he was faster on his feet. He turned at the gate and waved. You could say this for Derek, thought Lois with a reluctant smile, he certainly knew when his number was up.

¦

Lois spent a long time with her notebook. Peter White had acted very strangely this morning, very out of character. He’d been jumpy and irritable with her before he went out, which was something she could not remember happening before.

P. White very edgy, she wrote. Where was he going? Not his usual visiting day, did not mention any names. Mysterious telephone caller? Did not call. Blackmail? P. White knows something. Had Lois seen Peter White boarding the Tresham bus when his car stood in the drive, her curiosity would have been doubled. As it was, she added a couple of notes about the state of his bedroom, and the fact that though she tipped out his laundry basket to get some smelly socks from deep inside, there was now no trace of the girlie magazines.

By the time Josie wandered in, out of breath and shoulders slumped, Lois had finished her notes and had her arms full of dirty washing. “What’s up, Josie?” she said at once, seeing her downcast face. “That Sharon again?” Josie had been the butt of a cruel, plain girl in her class all the way up the school. But the bullying seemed to have died down in the past year and Josie had seemed happier.

Josie shook her head. “Nope,” she said. “Just a bit of a headache, that’s all.” She sat down at the kitchen table and put her head in her hands.

“I’ll get you an aspirin.” Lois dried her hands and ran some water in a glass. “Here,” she said. “Swallow it down and I’ll make a nice cup of tea.”

To her amazement, Josie began to cry. “Bloody cup of tea,” she snuffled through her fingers. “That’s your answer for everything!”

Lois stared at her, anxiety rising, and walked over to put her arms around Josie’s shoulders. “Hey, come on…what’s the trouble? You’d better tell me. Nobody else at home, so we shan’t be interrupted for once.”

The story came out gradually, in bits and pieces, and when Josie described the old furniture factory and the dirty bed in the corner, Lois’s heart was thumping in terror. “Who was this boy?” she shouted.

Josie looked at her fearfully. “Nobody you know,” she said.

“Not that bloody Melvyn?”

“No,” Josie lied quickly. “Just a boy from town. Anyway,” she continued, crying so messily now that it was difficult to make out what she was saying. “He never done it.”

“Never done what!” said Lois, trying to keep control.

“Oh, you know, Mum. It. Seems he was planning to, but he let me go and I got out. I know a quick way home, through that alley between them old houses…” She petered out, sniffing and wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Lois silently handed her a tissue and sat down at the table opposite her.