A Dark Coffin. Gwendoline Butler

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A Dark Coffin - Gwendoline  Butler


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junior assistant stage manager, than which there was no lower form of life.

      Once launched, he meant to move into a place of his own. He loved Alfreda, but she was bossy and inhibiting. A chap found it difficult to maintain his own life.

      He loved her though, and protected her.

      ‘May Renier is a bit of a cow, isn’t she?’ he said as he followed his mother into her office. ‘Pooh, the stink in here, you’ve been smoking.’

      ‘I’ve got to have one vice.’

      ‘You’ve got more than one.’ He threw open a window. ‘I saw May being downright cruel to old Albie … and I’ve seen her with other oldies. She doesn’t like them. She’s a shoot-all-the-over-fifties sort.’

      ‘She’s nearly forty herself,’ said Alfreda with a yawn. ‘I remember her years ago, both locals, we went to the same infant school, but I don’t think she’s noticed. No, she’s no chicken, and I don’t think she likes me very much.’

      Barney gave a hoot of laughter. ‘Let’s shoot her then, shall we?’

      ‘Not till we’ve got over this production.’ Another yawn. ‘I wish I could get off to bed.’

      ‘I’ll make you a milky drink.’

      ‘Put some whisky in it.’

      ‘Will do.’ And he bustled off towards the kitchen area attached to her office. He was a good cook, better than Alfreda, and did most of the housekeeping at home, as a result of which his hands bore numerous cuts and scars. While the milk was heating, he did a small amount of washing up. He was good at it, at home they had a dishwasher but he liked to do some things like knives and silver by hand. He hated mess and there was no denying that Alfreda was careless about her home.

      Behind them the bodies were being moved on to pallets to take them to the university hospital mortuary where they would be examined.

      Two tiny spots of blood were left behind where they had rested.

      The Chief Commander and Stella, together with Harry Trent, went home across the courtyard together. Stella went between the two men, arm in arm with both. It was not her usual way of going on, but somehow it seemed right tonight. She was picking up tensions in both that she did not understand.

      ‘Come up for a drink, Harry?’

      He shook his head. ‘Won’t, if you don’t mind.’

      ‘Tired myself.’

      Another of her smiles, but he was new to them, so he was the more pierced, a kiss on his cheek, a breath of Jolie Madame, and they were gone into their tower.

      Coffin had never said a word.

      Harry Trent remained outside for a moment, reflecting how like Coffin to end up living in a tower. It fitted with his character somehow, he was a climber.

      Harry moved towards his own borrowed front door and took out his key. It was a big old key which looked as though it had been around a long time, perhaps a key from the old church.

      He was just fitting it in the door when a figure came out of the shadows.

      ‘Hello, Harry boy, heard you were looking for me.’

      Harry moved his head slowly. ‘Merry, my God, it’s you.’

      ‘Of course. You knew it was me, you knew I’d be here.’

      ‘I did not.’

      ‘Thought it likely, then.’

      ‘How did you know where I would be?’

      ‘Telepathy.’ Merry laughed. ‘No, a copper told me, he picked it up about the Chief Commander; your friend, I believe. They gossip about him, you know? Well, wouldn’t you? I’m on better terms with the coppers than you think. They aren’t all trying to run me in, you know.’

      ‘Where are you living?’

      ‘You know: Shambles Passage, old Mother Arbatt’s den, and a right old pigsty too, I’m not there more than I can help. Nice place you’ve got here.’

      ‘Just lent.’

      ‘Like you to ease yourself into somewhere good.’

      ‘You really do think I’m a skunk, don’t you?’

      ‘Bit of the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?’ Merry was almost laughing.

      Harry took a deep breath. ‘Come up and have a drink. I’m glad to see you looking so well. I came here to find you, heard you were here.’

      ‘I don’t drink. You’re the drinker out of the two of us.’

      Since this was true, Harry said nothing, but opened the door. ‘Just come in and tell me what you want and what you are doing here.’

      Merry did not follow him in, but stayed in the shadows. ‘I told you: I heard you were looking for me. We are twins, after all. We keep in touch whether we like it or not.’

      ‘What are you doing in Swinehouse?’

      ‘Earning a living. Just like you. I’ve got a job in a haulage business. I have to live … There’s someone else we both know in Spinnergate.’

      ‘I don’t want to talk about her. Forget it. I saw you on the TV news, in the street fighting.’

      ‘I wasn’t doing any fighting, I was there, yes. You might have been yourself, we were expressing what we felt. I knew that kid, thank God she isn’t dead.’

      ‘That’s the latest news of her, is it?’

      ‘It is. I went to the hospital myself: stable.’

      ‘Two people died in the theatre tonight.’ Harry sounded weary. ‘Looks like suicide.’

      ‘I know, I was there, dropped in for the performance, got a cheap ticket. I knew something was up, didn’t know what.’

      Harry said wearily, ‘Look, I don’t want to talk about it now, but I want you to remember that I am your twin and I love you and you can talk to me.’

      ‘I know what you think of me: I didn’t rape and strangle that girl in North Woolwich, although by God, she nearly raped me. Anyway, she isn’t dead. I saw her walking in Greenwich Park the other day.’

      That’s you all over. Merry, thought Harry. Always with an answer. So glib.

      ‘I won’t take a drink off you, but I’ll keep in touch, you know where I am.’

      Harry nodded. ‘So I do. Don’t move away without telling me.’

      ‘What about you? Will you push off now you have found me?’

      ‘Not until I have found out what happened to the Macintoshes.’

      ‘Always the detective … they were a gloomy old pair, don’t wonder they decided to drop over the side. Surprised they did it together, though, never felt they were that keen on each other.’

      ‘They were kind to us.’

      ‘Think so? Didn’t feel like kindness to me … to tell the truth, I thought they were a spooky couple. I don’t feel sorry they are gone.’

      ‘I shouldn’t say that aloud too often.’

      Merry smiled. ‘Don’t worry about me, if there’s one thing I am good at it is hiding my feelings. Hiding, in fact. It’s kind of an occupation.’ He looked his brother in the face. ‘And that is not a joke, with a childhood like ours, you can’t be surprised. I hide, you search, that’s your occupation. Two sides of one coin.’

      ‘Oh, shut up.’

      ‘I’ll oblige … this is me saying goodbye … Say goodbye to Lou for me. How is she?’

      Harry did not answer, but waved his brother off


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