To Dream of the Dead

‘No.’

‘They tell you why they wanted the two bits in different places?’

Mebus shook his head.

‘Didn’t it even occur to you to ask?’

‘It occurred to me…’

‘Mother of God,’ Bliss said. ‘You’re not the sharpest knife in the drawer, are you, Jason?’

‘They said he had to be made an example of. That’s why I thought a poor payer.’

‘You never said that before.’

‘I only just remembered.’

‘Give me strength. Who sawed Ayling’s head off, Jason? Was that you? Deep in the forest, with a chainie that eventually went up in flames with the white van?’

‘No! I told you. It was already done.’

‘So you never saw his eyes.’

‘No.’ Mebus suddenly lurched in his seat, his gaze swivelling from Bliss to Mumford and back. ‘Hey, none of you’s wired, are you?’

Bliss shook his head in weary disdain.

‘How about you escort our friend back to his estate, Jumbo?’

49 Sharpest Knife

Jumbo got the message: time for cop talk. Bliss watched him follow Mebus towards the Plascarreg, clap the kid once on the back, then go his own way diagonally across the field. Leather bomber jacket, bouncy walk; he looked like a battered old medicine ball.

‘Well,’ Bliss said. ‘That was a bit of an eye-opener, wasn’t it?’

‘Thought you’d like it.’

Mumford spread himself on the long back seat, stretched his legs out where Mebus had been sitting.

‘Yeh, but what… what am I gonna do with it, Andy? Walk into Annie’s sanctum, tell her she’s got this case all to cock? Explain exactly how I know she’s fallen for what she was supposed to fall for?’

‘Rotherwas Chapel. I noticed you liked that.’

‘The stones in Ayling’s eye sockets were from what the council still prefers to call the Rotherwas Ribbon.’

‘Was that on the news?’

‘No way, it was what they held back. Served its purpose, too. Told me Mebus wasn’t lying.’

‘So Rotherwas Chapel…’

‘The official ancient monument at the foot of Dinedor Hill. The one they can’t destroy to put a road through. That was just perfect.’

‘If you wanted to fit up the Serpent-lovers?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Likely Jason done ’em a favour,’ Mumford said. ‘Takes you a while to put it together, it don’t look like you were led there by the nose kind of thing.’

‘That’s true. So where’s this go next? I tell Annie she’s a stupid cow, but don’t worry about it because I only know the truth on account of I’ve been working on me own with a private investigator, unethically, on the verge of actual criminality and—Jesus, Andy.’

Bliss thumped the top of the seat. Down the field, two seagulls took off like a storm warning.

‘Funny thing,’ Mumford said. ‘I’ve only realised since I retired how much quicker the process is when you don’t have to make out reports.’

‘Tell me about it.’ Bliss pulled off his beanie, ran a hand through the wasteland of his hair. ‘Doesn’t help that after I spoke to you last night I went to see Charlie Howe.’

He saw Mumford briefly shut his eyes.

‘Boss, you dick.’

‘It was indeed a bad, bad move, Andy.’

‘What did you think, he was getting old? Lost his teeth?’

‘I figured we could have a private chat, agree to keep off each other’s backs. Andy, what’s the matter with me?’

‘I figured you wasn’t yourself on the phone.’

‘Annie’ll’ve heard all about it by now.’ Bliss sank his chin into the pillow of his arms on the back of the passenger seat. ‘Amazing how fast you can go down. Seen it happen to other fellers but usually it gets a bit of a push from the booze or gambling. Never gonna happen to me.’

‘All right,’ Mumford said. ‘You wanner have a think about what you got? Lay it all out?’

Bliss was grateful. Never had a sounding board like Mumford before or since.

‘Half of what’s left of me brain’s turning it over and over as we speak, Andy. How much of Jason can we rely on? I still think the butchering was possibly part of his contract. The killer did a lovely neat job on Ayling — one judicious thrust, one accurate little wound that closed up so fast there wouldn’t be much blood.’

‘Meaning why would he want to do the messy stuff himself if he could pay an ex-slaughterman?’

‘Exactly. I’m guessing there was only one parcel to begin with in the back of that van, and the Mebuses had to haul Ayling down the forest and whizz the head off.’

‘Bone could ruin your chain,’ Mumford said.

Bliss rolled his eyes.

‘Lot of rain to wash the blood away, mind.’

‘Now that is a good point.’

‘Also,’ Mumford said, ‘if anybody found the signs, they’d think it was just evidence of some poacher having a go at one of these wild boar you keep hearing about in the Forest.’

Bliss nodded.

‘And Jason’s keeping quiet about that bit,’ Mumford said, ‘on account of it’s got a smell of violence about it. It’s a bit more than waste disposal. Leaves you asking the question, did he do the whole thing?’

‘What do you think?’

‘En’t got the balls. En’t got the brains.’

‘So we’re looking for a pro, aren’t we?’ Bliss hunched himself higher up the greasy passenger seat. ‘And a contract killer puts the crime into a whole different arena. It’s hard to imagine the Friends of the Serpent having a quick whip round and dispatching their hardest member into the underworld with a bag of unmarked twenties. I think we’re firmly back in Jason’s world.’

‘Drugs?’

‘Fact — Jason and various members of Jason’s family and friends obtain wholesale coke from Birmingham, Bristol, Gloucester, Newport. Comes into the Plascarreg, as we’ve all known for years, for distribution to the usual suspects, plus the new breed of middle-class party animal supplied by the likes of Gyles Banks-Jones. Which is where I came in.’

‘There don’t have to be a connection,’ Mumford said.

‘Yeh, but there is a connection, Andy. And it’s through a man called Steve Furneaux. Steve is Gyles’s next-door neighbour. He was the last person, or — assuming he didn’t do it — the last but one person to see Clement Ayling alive. And, unless all my instincts are playing me wrong, he’s a cokehead. Quite long-term, I’d guess. For a long time, Steve was on the fringe. Suddenly he’s looking like a main player.’

‘Form?’

‘No way. All right, let’s approach it from the other side. Mebus gets a call from Birmingham. I think we have to assume Birmingham is Jason’s euphemism for the people he doesn’t talk about… whether they’re Birmingham or Gloucester or Newport. Whatever, Birmingham calls and