size, though. Strange isn’t it? Fifty years and I’ve never bought her anything to wear. You don’t for your mum, do you?’
‘Is she any better?’
‘No, not really. This year won’t be much of a Christmas, I’m afraid. What about you?’
‘The way things are looking, I’ll be spending it in jail.’
He didn’t react. ‘What you done this time?’
‘I think I’ve killed Erw Watcyns.’
‘Why are you telling me?’
‘I’m turning myself in.’
‘Why?’
‘What do you mean, why? I just told you I think I killed a man.’
‘I know. Why are you telling me?’
‘I thought murder was against the law.’
He nodded as if the penny had dropped. ‘Oh, right. Murder. And you’re turning yourself in. Very noble. How did you kill him?’
‘I was in the garret across the street from my office. There was a guy sitting there, dead. They call him the Pieman. I had nothing to do with that, but Erw Watcyns was going to pin it on me. I don’t know what happened; I panicked and banged his head on the bedstead. I didn’t intend to kill him or anything, just give myself a head start while I got out of there.’
‘What do you want me to do now?’
‘Run me in, I suppose.’
‘Run you in? Trouble is, your story doesn’t ring true. Why would you kill someone and then immediately turn yourself in? You’ve forgotten the bit where you run and hide and we chase you. There’s always that bit. If we didn’t have that I’d be out of a job. We could just have, what do they call it? An honesty system. We leave a book out on the desk at the station, and you fill it in yourself. Just take a key from behind the counter and choose a cell.’
‘Hey! I killed someone, let’s all have a laugh.’
‘You’re having a bad day, Louie. We all do; get over it.’
‘It’s more than that.’
‘Is it? Call it a bad week, then. Who cares? So you killed someone. The way you describe it you won’t do the maximum. You’ll get twelve to fourteen. Out after ten. How old will you be then? Fifty-five or so? You’ll be laughing. My mum probably hasn’t got a month – in a cardigan that’s too small or is the wrong colour.’
‘As if that matters.’
‘That’s just the point, it does. That’s always the worst thing – you go up there and see them wearing clothes that they hate, and would never have worn when they were able to take care of themselves. But they’re too meek to say anything to the nurses who dress them. You can see it in their eyes, though. They know.’
‘So why didn’t you get the right size? It’s not hard.’
‘Because I’m not a genius like you. I can’t think of everything.’
He sighed. ‘Louie, I can’t arrest you . . . because of a technical detail; it’s a sort of legal safeguard to protect the innocent. Basically, you can’t arrest a man for the murder of a man who isn’t dead. I’m sorry.’
‘He’s not dead?’
‘Nope.’
‘He looked pretty dead to me.’
‘It’s a trick, Louie. He’s pretending.’
‘How can you know that?’
‘What makes you think he’s dead?’
‘I saw them carrying him out – the sheet was up over his face.’
‘Yeah, that’s how we do it with murders. First thing we do is call an ambulance and take the DOA away. Other police forces, they like to do it by the book. You know, all that scene-of-crime forensic shit. Photographers and medics, and guys with latex gloves and little evidence bags picking up snot with tweezers and dating it. Not us. We’re more streamlined. We just take the guy away, dig a hole and throw him in. Doesn’t even have to be a hole. Sometimes we just leave him out with the bins.’
‘You’re still blaming me for the newspaper ad, aren’t you?’
‘You and the Queen of Denmark. She’s in it up to her ears as well. Get out of here, you fool, before Erw finds you. He doesn’t believe in legal safeguards to protect the innocent.’
I went over to the bar and fetched two pints. Sometimes quarrels are like that: if you leave halfway they’ll never get sorted out.
When I returned he was calmer. He said, ‘How’s your dad?’
‘Seems to be doing fine.’
He nodded. ‘What about Calamity?’
‘I’m not sure. She . . . er . . . she . . .’ It wasn’t easy so say. ‘She’s trying things on her own for a while.’
‘I had a complaint against her from Mrs Dinorwic-Jones, the art-teacher. Says Calamity’s been shining torch beams into her bedroom window. What the hell’s she playing at? You’re supposed to be watching over her.’
I paused and wondered. Llunos twisted slightly in his chair. ‘That’s another thing I turn a blind eye to: kid not even eighteen acting as your sidekick. But I thought you were having a good influence on her.’
‘She was doing some sort of scene-of-crime ballistics thing she found in a book. Stick knitting needles in the bullet holes in the wall; shine the light along them and you find out where they came from. That’s the theory. She said it didn’t work.’
Llunos’s brow furrowed. ‘That’s interesting. The shots came from Dinorwic-Jones’s apartment. Funny, she never mentioned hearing shots; you’d think she would if they came from her apartment.’
‘Some people are hard of hearing.’
‘Something about her has been bugging me for a while. It’s not right all this trauma she says she’s been suffering on account of the mutilation. She teaches life drawing and stares at naked men all her life. She draws the outline at the scene of crime and has been seeing chopped up bodies half her life. How come she’s so upset now?’ He paused and we drank in silence for a while. Finally he said, ‘So, who’s the Queen of Denmark?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I’m not wearing my copper’s hat.’
‘I know that. I’d tell you if I knew. All I know is, she sends real money; at least, it fools the people at the post office.’
‘You really don’t know?’
‘I’ve got two theories. One is . . . One is she’s the Queen of Denmark. And the other . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘Actually, I’ve got one theory.’
‘Kind of hard to believe you don’t know a thing like that.’
‘You’d be amazed at the things I don’t know. I don’t know who Hoffmann is. I know who killed Santa but I don’t know why. I don’t know who killed the men who killed him. I don’t know who the Pieman is or why he did what he did. I don’t know who paid him or who killed him. It might be the guy in the fedora hat who’s been following me but I don’t know why he would kill a Pieman. And, to be honest, I don’t know for sure if he really has been following me. Maybe he’s just an ordinary Joe in a fedora hat. After all, someone has to be. I don’t know who Elijah is; and I don’t know who Erw is or was or what his role in all this is or was; but I know he has a role in it somewhere. I don’t know why a dying man should write “Hoffmann” in his blood, or why he should say his life was fulfilled after seeing a movie about a dog. I don’t know what happened at the Mission House siege. I don’t know why the priest went nuts. I don’t know who my client is, or even if I’ve got one. I don’t know what I am going to do about Calamity. I do know Myfanwy is leaving, but I don’t know what I’m going to do about that. That’s why I’m here, I guess. I was hoping to spend a quiet Christmas behind bars and forget about it for a while.’
‘Do you know what the drill sergeants say? When a man is done in, when he’s reached the end of his tether and can’t take any more, doesn’t have an ounce of strength left in him, they say when he reaches that point he’s usually got about another twenty per cent in the tank. Get your coat.’
‘Where are we going?
‘We’re going to see the art teacher.’
