spotted this good-looking bird, as he put it, and he’d caught her eye one night and given her his come-on look, and she’d responded, and not long after the meeting ended, he was having one of the best times he’d ever had.
Pal asked how long this went on and Jase said not long, he never let these things go on long enough to get serious. He tried to sound real casual about it, but somehow I got the impression it was really her who’d done the dumping and she’d made it hurt.
Then Pal asked if it hadn’t been awkward when he started going out with Helen. Jase said that in fact there was no way he’d have started with Helen if he’d realized who she was, but he’d met her in a club, they had a great time, good enough to make him look out for her the following night. This time they exchanged rather more information, but even when she mentioned she’d just left Weavers a few weeks before and had always fancied him, he didn’t make a connection between this Helen Maciver and the Kay Kafka he’d had a fling with, otherwise, he said, he’d have run a mile.
Whatever Kay had done to him, she’d left her mark.
Jase boasted he was used to being fancied by the older girls at school but he made very sure he kept them at arm’s length or even further. He really likes his job and he doesn’t want to risk losing it for something that’s in plentiful supply in the outside world. His words. Once the girls left Weavers, though, they were fair game for a couple of sessions on the training track. His words again.
But after he’d been out with Helen three or four times, he began to think this one might be different. He really liked her. He sounded rather surprised when he said it, as if really liking a woman he’d bedded was a novelty. He listened to her talking about the two of them as an item and found he didn’t mind. Still no notion of her connection with Kay. Helen told him later that her stepmother’s approval meant so much to her, she kept putting off inviting him home for fear things might go wrong. But she was far too close to Kay to keep it secret for long that she’d met the man she loved and wanted to marry, and one day Jase answered the bell to his apartment and found Kay on the doorstep .
When he realized she was Helen’s stepmother, he said he felt the world was coming to an end. What she said made such a deep impression he was still able to quote it verbatim. Me too. I’ve always had a fantastic memory.
She said, “Mr Dunn, I know what you are capable of, in every sense. Helen finds you irresistibly attractive and has got it into her head that you are the man she wants to marry. I think this would be a huge mistake. I haven’t told her this, nor my reasons for so believing, because of the damage it would do to our relationship. In fact I suggested she should invite you round to tea next time you meet. When she does, I would like you to tell her, no way, you’ve no desire whatsoever to get your feet under the table, this thing between you is a casual fling and if she’s got other ideas she’d better disabuse herself. If you fail to do this, I will have to intervene, whatever the consequences. And by the way, one of those consequences would be the loss of your job as I should make it quite clear to the education authorities that this relationship had begun while Helen was still a pupil at Weavers.”
Jase said he was scared shitless-his words-but what was even more scary was he heard himself telling Kay that he didn’t give a toss, she must do whatever she felt she had to do, but even if it meant losing his job and having to start over, Helen was the only girl for him and he was going to marry her, come what may.
He said Kay didn’t speak for a long time, just sat there looking at him, so still and intense he began to think maybe she was going to turn him into a frog.
Then she said, “OK. In that case when she asks you to tea, you’d better come.”
Pal let out a great whoop of laughter and said, “That’s my girl! Nothing but the best for her beloved little Helen. Good stud line, lovely mover, beautifully schooled, top-class foals guaranteed. Only thing she didn’t reckon on was how frisky you might get if deprived of your regular oats.”
Then Pal laughed again, only in a more friendly fashion this time, and said, “No need to look so worried, my son. I know this is just a bit of fun while my kid sister’s out of commission, no harm done. And there won’t be any tales out of school. Dolores and I are as discreet as a pair of dodos, and that’s dead discreet.”
So things went on as before, until last time.
We all used to meet up in the sports centre car park, at the dark end near the river. Jase and I would get into Pal’s car and he’d drive us off to Moscow House so that his was the only car anyone would see going up the drive. Only this night our usual time went by and there was no sign of Pal. Finally I got into Jase’s car so we could decide what to do. I tried to ring Pal on his mobile, but it was switched off. Then I tried the shop, but got no reply. After that Jase used my phone to ring Pal’s home number. He spoke to Sue-Lynn, who had no idea where Pal was. After that we drove to the Avenue and went slowly past the entrance to Moscow House in case Pal had gone directly there for some reason. But it was very misty and, even if it hadn’t been, you can hardly see the house from the road. We turned and came back and this time as we approached we saw a police car turn into the driveway .
This really bothered Jase and he headed back to the sports centre. He dropped me in the car park. He was going to go into the club and do a bit more phoning around to see if he could track down Pal. He said he was sure everything was all right, but I could tell he was worried. He said I should just go home, wherever that was. I almost told him it was the vicarage at Cothersley, just to see his face, but that would have been very silly. I got into my little Fiat. Usually I change in there and get my make-up off, if the car park’s quiet, but tonight I was worried too, so I decided to take another drive down the Avenue.
I got there just in time to see an ambulance with its siren wailing turning into Moscow House. I could see what looked like a police car’s flashing lights up by the house. I parked around the corner and got out and walked back. I knew that a lot of prostitutes hung out along the Avenue, so I thought a woman walking by herself wouldn’t attract any attention, but the place seemed deserted and I realized that at the first sign of the police most of the pros must have realized that business was over for the night and headed off elsewhere.
Gosh it was eerie, but I had to find out what was going on. There was a policeman stationed at the gate. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw me, and realizing that he was even more scared than I was gave me confidence. I put on my best Dolores voice and pretended I was one of the Avenue girls rather put out at having her evening’s trade ruined. What he told me really chilled my blood. He said they’d found a dead man in the house, looked like suicide but they didn’t know for certain yet, and the body was still to be identified. I knew it was Pal, I don’t know how, but from the start I was sure.
Some other cars came and I hid. Then I made my way back to my own car and drove back to Cothersley as quickly as I could. I was in such a state I almost forgot to get out of my Dolores gear. Gosh, what a shock it would have given David if I’d walked in dressed like that!
As far as I was concerned that was the end of Dolores. I only got the phone out last night to throw it away and if I hadn’t checked for messages, I wouldn’t be here. But then I suppose you would have come round to the vicarage and that would have been far worse.
Please, I’ve told you everything I know. It hasn’t been easy, but I didn’t want to leave any reason for you to need to question me again ever.
So I’ve done what you asked, as full and frank as I can make it. You look like a good and honest man, to me, Mr Pascoe. Please, can I have your assurance again that this is the last I’m ever going to hear of this business?
Pascoe paused to get his breath before he passed through the general CID room en route to Dalziel’s office. He didn’t want his subordinates to think he’d been running up the stairs because he was late, but Novello’s welcoming grin gave the impression that she knew anyway.
To his surprise, Hat Bowler too was sitting at his desk, gazing vacantly at the wall. He looked pale and unhappy.
“Hat, what are you doing here?” asked Pascoe, concerned.
“Super said he thought it would be a good idea, sir. Break myself back in gently.”
“But you’re still on the sick list.”
“Yes, sir. But I’ll be seeing the doc on Monday to get signed off.”
“I think that will be for the doctor to say,” said Pascoe gently.
Now he recalled Dalziel’s concern lest the lad was somehow getting mixed up with funny-bugger business by spending time at Lavinia Maciver’s cottage. And the fat sod accuses me of flights of fancy! thought Pascoe.
