Dead Flowers Read online

Angela joined us about half an hour later. ‘He’s off,’ she said as she collected the glass of brandy Ray had poured for her. ‘This bloody house, Ray. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to the size of it after my little place.’ Then to me. ‘You’ve got a daughter, haven’t you?’

  I agreed that I had.

  ‘They’re bloody murder, girls. I thought Sharon was sorted when she married Ray. How wrong I was. Are you anywhere near finding her?’

  ‘I think I’m close,’ I said.

  ‘I don’t know what happened to her,’ she said wearily. Christ, she didn’t know the half of it if what Wally had said was true.

  ‘Leave it, Ange,’ said Ray. ‘Nick’s heard it all before.’

  ‘Maybe he has,’ she said, and this time there was fire in her voice. ‘But it doesn’t hurt for him to hear it again.’ I was beginning to like old Ange. ‘She may be my daughter, but there’s no excuse for her leaving you and Liam. You wait till I catch hold of her. Big as she is, I’ll coat her properly.’

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ I interrupted.

  ‘I know you will, love. I heard what you said to Liam, and I believed you. He likes you. He told me when I put him to bed.’

  ‘I’m flattered.’

  She finished her drink. ‘Ray. I’m knackered. I’m off to bed. Nick, I’ll see you in the morning. Now don’t you boys sit up all night drinking. We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow sorting this place out, Ray. I don’t want you with a hangover.’

  ‘All right, Ange,’ he said weakly.

  ‘Right. Goodnight then, both of you.’ And she left.

  ‘That woman,’ said Ray when she was gone. ‘I don’t know what I’d’ve done without her.’

  ‘She seems like a goodun,’ I said.

  ‘You can say that again. Want another drink, Nick?’ He held up the Rémy bottle.

  ‘Don’t mind if I do,’ I replied.

  37

  We finally got to bed about two-thirty, pretty drunk. We’d played a couple of games of pool, listened to a bunch of seventies 45s on the juke box, and I’d refused a swim.

  Ray stuck me in a pleasant, if sparsely furnished room right at the back of the house. He apologized for the lack of amenities. ‘Next time there’ll be a proper guest room with en-suite,’ he assured me. ‘But I need to do some furniture shopping.’

  ‘No problem, Ray,’ I replied. ‘I could sleep on nails.’

  We shook hands and he left me to it. I found a bathroom down the hall and had a piss.

  Next morning I was woken with a start by Liam shaking the side of my bed. I felt lousy. Hungover again, unshaven, and I’m sure my breath stank. He didn’t seem to mind. In his hand he was clutching an Action Man dressed as a paratrooper.

  ‘Hello, Liam,’ I said. ‘What time is it?’

  He shrugged. Either he couldn’t tell, couldn’t care less, or time was immaterial. He held out the Action Man and said, ‘For you.’

  ‘What?’ I said, still half-asleep.

  ‘It’s my dad. For you.’

  He dropped the figure on the bed and fled.

  I got up and found my watch. It was just past eight. I located the bathroom again, did what I could to myself without the aid of razor or toothbrush, got dressed and went for a wander through the house, taking Action Man with me.

  I found Angela in the kitchen. ‘You look a bit rough,’ she said.

  ‘I feel it.’

  ‘Have some tea. It’s freshly made.’

  ‘Sounds like a good plan. Ray pours a mean brandy.’

  ‘I did tell you,’ she said as she poured out a cup. ‘He doesn’t get many chances to let his hair down these days.’

  ‘We just had a bit of a drink.’

  ‘He needs a friend.’ Then she noticed what I was carrying. ‘What’ve got there?’ she asked.

  ‘Action Man,’ I replied. ‘Liam woke me up and gave it to me. Said it was like his dad.’

  ‘In the pictures he’s seen,’ she said. ‘I told you he liked you.’

  ‘Will you give it back to him?’ I asked.

  ‘Not if he gave it to you,’ she said. ‘He’d be upset.’

  ‘I don’t want to nick his toys.’

  ‘Blimey. Hasn’t he got enough? You keep it, Nick.’

  I put it on the table next to my cup. ‘Where’s Ray?’ I asked.

  ‘Gone down the village for the papers. He’ll be back in a minute.’

  And he was, as I was on my second cup of tea and the toasted bacon sandwich Angela had insisted on making me. ‘A good night,’ he said. ‘We must do it again soon.’

  I nodded agreement round my breakfast.

  ‘So what are you going to do now?’ he asked.

  ‘What I told you. Go to the funeral tomorrow, and afterwards visit you know who. Sort this whole thing out, once and for all.’

  ‘If you’re sure.’

  ‘A promise is a promise,’ I said. ‘I gave Liam my word. And he’s given me this. For luck, I think.’ I nudged Action Man.

  ‘Then you’re sorted, ain’tcha?’ said Ray.

  38

  I might’ve been sorted, as Ray Miller put it, but I wasn’t happy about what I was doing.

  I had a sudden thought. ‘Can I use your phone?’

  ‘Sure. Use the one in the living room.’

  I went through and from the paper Ray had given me I got Melanie Wiltse’s number and rang her.

  She answered quickly. ‘Hello, Melanie,’ I said. ‘It’s Nick Sharman.’

  ‘Hello, Nick. You were lucky to catch me; I’m just off to work. What can I do for you?’

  ‘I need to see you.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound like pleasure.’

  ‘It would always be a pleasure to see you, Melanie.’

  ‘Flatterer.’

  ‘No. But this time it’s about Sharon.’

  ‘What about her?’

  ‘Not on the phone.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Now. As soon as possible.’

  ‘But I told you I’m just off to work.’

  ‘Can you take the day off? I’ll buy you lunch.’

  ‘Or Ray will.’

  ‘No. This time I will.’

  ‘That’s an improvement.’

  ‘So can you?’

  ‘I suppose the financial world won’t grind to a halt without me.’

  ‘So you will.’

  ‘OK, Nick. Where?’

  ‘I’m up in Essex at Ray’s. I have to pass through Walthamstow on my way back. Why don’t I just call for you?’

  ‘Sounds OK to me.’

  She gave me her address and I put down the phone. I didn’t know if I was going to see Melanie to help me with my search for Sharon. Or if I wanted to see her because I was attracted to her. Or if I was just killing time. I left soon after without seeing Liam again, but made Angela promise to let me know if he wanted his toy back. I stuck it on the dashboard of the jeep on the drive back to London.

  With the help of my A–Z I found Melanie’s street without too much trouble, and by quarter to eleven I was knocking on her flat door.

  She opened it wearing a white T-shirt and blue jeans. ‘I changed,’ she said by way of a greeting. ‘I took a day’s holiday. They weren’t pleased. I hope you’re worth it.’

  ‘Hello, Melanie,’ I said. ‘You look nice.’

  ‘You’re a bloody flatterer one minute, and all business the next,’ she said, leading me through a tiny hall to a tiny front room with too much furniture and Sly & the Family Stone playing on the stereo.

  ‘Good choice,’ I said. ‘I thought you’d be too young for sixties psychedelic soul.’

  ‘You’d be amazed,’ she said.

  ‘Probably. I seem to spend my entire time being amazed these days.’

  ‘So what can I do for you?’ she asked for the second time that morning.

  I looked at my watch. ‘The pubs’ll be open in a minute. Fancy a drink? Then we can go and eat. Is there anywhere decent round here?’

  ‘Wha
t? Out in the sticks?’

  ‘Not as sticky as where I’ve been.’

  ‘Yeah. What were you doing in Essex? And you haven’t shaved.’

  ‘Sorry. I went to see Ray Miller at his new place. But why don’t we talk about why I’m here over that drink?’

  ‘OK,’ she said. ‘There’s a bar with a restaurant in the high street. It’s nothing to write home about. Burgers, you know? Do you think my figure can stand a burger and chips?’

  ‘If yours can’t, no one’s can,’ I replied.

  ‘There’s that flattery again. But I must say it’s winning me over.’

  She put on a short leather biker’s jacket over her T-shirt and we walked to the high street which was only a few minutes away, and Beezer’s Bar-B-Q and Rib restaurant was just opening its doors when we arrived. We sat at its replica Tex-Mex saloon counter and ordered a pair of Buds by the neck. I offered Melanie a cigarette and lit it for her and one for myself. ‘This is probably not what you’re used to,’ she said, gesturing around the deserted bar.

  ‘It serves booze,’ I replied. ‘And it’s open.’

  ‘Is that damning it with faint praise?’ she asked.

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘So what’s Ray’s place like?’

  ‘Like this. But residential,’ I replied.

  She laughed. ‘So what about Sharon?’ she asked.

  ‘Was she into dope?’ I said.

  ‘What kind?’

  ‘Any kind?’

  ‘She smoked a joint. Sometimes if we met some fellas with coke she’d take a snort. Why?’

  ‘I’ve been hearing some bad things about her.’

  ‘Like?’

  ‘Like she’s strung out on heroin and on the game to pay for it.’

  Melanie stubbed out her cigarette in the Marlboro ashtray and took a drink.

  ‘Bugger,’ she said.

  ‘But I also heard that Grant turned her on to the smack, and now he pimps for her.’

  ‘That would be just the sort of thing I’d imagine he’d do. Have you told Ray?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It would do his head in.’

  ‘That’s why I haven’t told him. I want to find out for myself if it’s true first.’

  ‘Who told you?’ she asked.

  ‘A little geek who runs errands for Grant.’

  ‘I assume he didn’t volunteer the information out of the kindness of his heart.’

  ‘No. I nearly broke his nose.’

  She laughed again. ‘Tough guy, huh?’

  ‘I didn’t have to be very tough to do it to this particular individual. But there are others in the equation who are more dangerous.’

  ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you about the eye. I must say it gives you a certain rakish charm.’

  ‘Now who’s being a flatterer?’

  ‘Did someone punch you?’

  ‘No. Someone pushed a building over on to me.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Never more so.’

  ‘You don’t live a quiet life, do you, Nick?’

  ‘No. And it’s getting noisier by the minute.’

  39

  She bought the next round, and we stayed chatting for another hour or so, but I could see her mind wasn’t on the conversation.

  ‘So what are you going to do next?’ she asked eventually.

  ‘Go to see Grant at his pub. Find out where Sharon is and try and get her away. But it won’t be easy. Pimps seem to have a proprietorial attitude to their girls.’

  ‘This is awful,’ she said. ‘I can hardly believe it.’

  ‘Believe it,’ I said. ‘It’s happening.’

  We had lunch at the restaurant. It was a pretty basic menu. The burger was tough, the bun was stale and the chips were frozen, but the company was good and the beer came in bottles so no one could mess with the contents. I told Melanie about Charlie then, and realized that in fact he was the reason I’d called her. I needed to tell someone what had happened. Someone who didn’t know him and really didn’t know me either, and had no axe to grind in the matter. Melanie fitted the bill exactly.

  ‘And you had no idea he was gay?’ she said when I’d finished my story.

  ‘No,’ I replied. ‘And I’d known him for two decades. Some detective, huh?’

  ‘Not if he didn’t want you to know,’ she said. ‘Some secrets get easier to keep as the years go by.’

  ‘But he told me in the end. Then he wanted to see me the other night and I bottled out. Then he killed himself.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  ‘I knew Charlie.’

  ‘But not as well as you thought. You can’t blame yourself, Nick.’

  ‘But I should’ve seen him.’

  ‘But you didn’t. Don’t beat yourself up about it.’

  ‘That’s easy for you to say.’

  She covered my hand with hers. ‘Not really. We’re all guilty of letting our friends down, aren’t we?’

  ‘I thought that was what friends were for,’ I said bitterly.

  When we were finished I paid the bill and Melanie said, ‘Want to come back to my place?’

  ‘Sure,’ I replied, and we walked back to her house and she got more beers from the kitchen.

  ‘That was good,’ she said as she sat next to me on the sofa. ‘I enjoyed myself.’

  ‘Me too,’ I agreed.

  ‘We should do it again.’

  ‘I’d like that.’

  ‘Nick.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Do you want to go to bed with me?’

  I looked into her eyes. ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘Come on then.’

  I shook my head. ‘Not now. It’s not right.’

  ‘What’s wrong with it?’

  ‘Priorities.’

  ‘And I’m not a priority. Is that what you mean?’ She looked a bit miffed and I couldn’t blame her.

  ‘Exactly the opposite,’ I explained. ‘You are a priority, but I can’t give you the attention you need. There’s too much on my mind. Too much unfinished business. There’s things I have to do and you’d get in the way.’

  She looked back at me. ‘Jesus,’ she said, ‘but you’ve got will power. I bet you could give up cigarettes.’

  I shook my head. ‘I’m addicted to cigarettes. I’m not addicted to you – yet.’

  ‘I like you, Mr Detective.’ She took my hand and squeezed it.

  I squeezed hers back. ‘I like you too, Melanie Wiltse.’

  ‘So I’m going to have to let you go.’

  ‘I need to find Sharon. She is your friend.’

  ‘I wish she wasn’t,’ she said. ‘Then I’d try and convince you to stay.’

  ‘It wouldn’t take much,’ I said. ‘Which is why I’m leaving.’

  I kissed her on the side of the mouth and got up to go.

  ‘You will call me,’ she said.

  ‘Of course. As soon as this is over.’

  ‘Then make it bloody quick. You’ve made me wet, you bastard.’

  ‘Hold on to that thought,’ I said. ‘I’ll see myself out.’ And with one more snatched kiss I left.

  40

  And all the way back to Tulse Hill I wished I’d stayed. I could’ve done. The funeral wasn’t until the next afternoon. But somehow it felt disloyal to Charlie to go straight to the service from a strange woman’s bed. As if I hadn’t been disloyal enough.

  I stopped by at my office and found a sniffy note from the glazier tacked to the door frame, saying he’d been, waited and gone. I pulled it off, screwed it up and chucked it in the gutter. If my only problems over the next few days were a couple of broken windows, then I’d be OK.

  I stayed close to home for the rest of the day, watching TV and smoking too many cigarettes, and had an early night.

  I dreamt about Charlie and Melanie and Adult Baby Albert and Ray and Liam and Matty and Maddie.

  They weren’t pleasant dreams.

  The next morning I was up at th
e crack and dressed in my dark suit, white shirt and black tie far too early. I phoned the local florist and arranged to collect a spray of flowers, and sat looking out of the window for hours, tugging at my collar and trying not to spoil the crease in my pants.

  Eventually the time came to leave and I drove down to the high street, picked up the bouquet and headed for the cemetery.

  Of course it was raining. It had to be, didn’t it, so I took my umbrella.

  When I arrived there was already quite a crowd milling about around the entrance to the chapel beside the hearse and the pair of Daimler limousines that stood with their black paint slick with rain.

  The congregation had mostly brought umbrellas too, and you could hear the rain drumming on the nylon like a saraband as I got out of the car and joined them.

  Ginny was standing by the chapel door with the girls, welcoming the mourners, and I brushed through them to join her.

  ‘Hello, Ginny,’ I said, after I’d added my bouquet to the others lying on the grass, their cellophane already speckled with rain drops. I kissed her on both cheeks.

  ‘Nick,’ she said. ‘Nice eye.’

  ‘Hello, girls,’ I said to the sad trio next to her, all three holding sodden white handkerchiefs in their black-gloved hands.

  They all smiled sickly smiles at me but said nothing.

  ‘Judith sends her love,’ I went on. ‘She wanted to come but I put her off.’

  ‘She’s seen enough funerals,’ said Ginny.

  ‘We all have,’ I agreed, then I looked at Carol. ‘She wants to see you soon,’ I said.

  ‘She phoned me,’ said Carol with a sob in her voice. ‘Last night. Wished me luck.’

  ‘That’s good,’ I said. ‘She loved Charlie.’

  Carol started to cry properly at that.

  ‘We’re having a few drinks after at the Meadowlark,’ said Ginny. ‘Upstairs. It was Charlie’s favourite pub. Will you come, Nick?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said. The way things were going with the people who were after me, it might be my last chance for a good drink.

  ‘Sit at the front on the right,’ she continued. ‘You are going to say something.’

  ‘Of course,’ I said.

  ‘Terry’s going to start off.’ Terry was Charlie’s big brother. Then you, and that’s it. I don’t want this to go on any longer than needs be.’