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Authors: Liza Cody

BOOK: Lady Bag
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All I was thinking about was a bottle of red wine. I could almost feel it trickling down my throat—acting as a disinfectant and killing the crawling things in my chest, becoming the anaesthetic that would hush my throbbing foot.

Was there anything I could tell Old Filthy that would make them let me go?

The only thing they’ll believe is a confession: bless me Inspector, for I have sinned, now hand over the communion wine? I think not.

Kaylee Yost came back into the interview room. ‘H-how’re you holding up?’

‘It hurts.’

‘What does?’

‘Foot, head, everything. I need a wash. All I can smell is puke.’

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ she said without any confidence at all. ‘Meanwhile I’ll find you some tea.’ She went to the door and had a muttered conversation with the constable.

When she came back she said, ‘I think maybe you’re right. They’ve only just picked up on the connection between you and Mr Atwood, and when the Acton police went to his house they found something at his address that might or might not be a murder weapon.’

‘They don’t seem very happy about it.’

‘That’s because they thought they had you all sewn up, and they don’t want to start again. Before, they just wanted to know who was with you when the murder was committed, and who struck the fatal blow. Now they have to think again.’

I laid my head back down on the table. It was the old Georgie and Joss conundrum. Am I a snout or am I not? If the cops caught them Georgie and Joss would make trouble for me. Then they’d try to kill me. It didn’t seem fair.

‘What isn’t f-fair?’ Kaylee asked. ‘Please would you sit up and concentrate? I can only understand one word in ten. Who’s Georgian Joss?’

‘Nobody.’

‘Is he one of the men who were with you the day Ms Munrow was killed?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘Everyone I know hurts me. I can’t deal with it anymore.’

‘I can’t advise you, I can only represent you.’

‘How about getting me something to drink, eh? I can’t think. My head can’t handle the possibilities. I have to choose between death and damnation. The Doc said I should elevate my foot but there’s sod-all to elevate it on. So it’s hurting and I need more pills—and a little drink to calm my nerves.’

‘I’m not allowed to bring any a-alcohol in here, and frankly, Ms Sutherland, it sounds to me as if you’ve had too many pills already. You really do mumble, you know.’

But she must’ve spoken to someone, because when Sprague and Anderson came back they were followed by a uniform who carried in tea and an extra chair for my foot.

I put my feet up, tipped my chair back and very nearly fell flat on the floor.

‘Are you going to answer some questions?’ DI Sprague said, ‘or are you going to play silly buggers forever and ever amen?’

‘There are impediments,’ I said, but Kaylee interrupted, saying, ‘M-my client would like to be helpful, but asks you to remember that she suffered severe head trauma which has affected her memory and her personality, reports of which are, I believe, in your possession.’ She stopped, breathless at her own bravery. I patted her knee.

‘Just do your best,’ Anderson said.

DI Sprague cleared his throat. ‘We have it on tape from last time you graced us with your presence, that you claimed to have followed the “Devil” from Haymarket to Harrison Mews. Please continue your account of events from there.’

‘I didn’t follow. He took a taxi, and gave the driver his address.’

‘What number Harrison Mews?’

‘I can’t remember numbers.’

‘Alright. Then what did you do?’

‘I waited.’

‘What for?’

‘To warn the Devil’s doxy that she would be destroyed and burned in icy flames while her brains and viscera… ’

‘Enough!’ DI Sprague glared at me. ‘In other words, you threatened her.’

‘You see,’ I said to Kaylee, ‘I say “warn”, he says “threaten”, let’s call the whole thing off.’

‘No, do continue with your account,’ Dl Sprague snarled.

‘So Electra and I waited outside the theatre for the play to end. But it was a cold night and when she came out of the theatre there were two of her. I’d had a little drink and I thought I was seeing double.’ I don’t know why I said that. It wasn’t true. It came to me; I thought it was funny so I said it. Now it was part of my statement. I hurried on, ‘I told her to beware but I think it came out all wrong and she didn’t take a blind bit of notice.’

‘Then what?’

‘Then we went to sleep.’

‘Where?’

‘Can’t remember. Oh, except for Floating Outreach—Lemony Melony—then we had to go somewhere else or she’d have done me some good.’

‘Who?’ DC Anderson said.

DI Sprague leaned forward. ‘Are you claiming that you spent the night in the West End, and you’ve a witness to prove it?’

‘Floating Outreach?’ Anderson said. ‘Is that an official agency? Or what? Church?’

I covered my face with my hands. The light was too bright. There were eyes making holes in my brain for the words to spill out of.

‘I suppose it’ll have to be checked,’ DI Sprague said. ‘So when did you get to Harrison Mews?’

‘I can’t remember. I haven’t got a watch.’

‘Try,’ Anderson said, ‘it might be important.’

I screwed up my eyes. Someone going to work gave me his coffee, no shoppers on Oxford Street, hardly anyone in Hyde Park except dog walkers. So it had to be before eight or nine in the morning. The bins hadn’t been emptied—that’s where I got my breakfast. Then it might’ve taken me an hour to find Harrison Mews.

‘Speak up,’ Sprague said. ‘What’re you chuntering about?’

‘I-I-I think she said, “Nine or ten”,’ Kaylee whispered.

‘Do-do-do you?’


I haven’t got a watch
,’ I shouted at Sprague. ‘I’m doing the best I can, and so’s she.’

‘You’re taking the piss!’ Sprague shouted back. ‘A woman is dead.’

‘A lot of women are dead.’ I couldn’t help myself. ‘Needle Jane in a toilet—poisoned junk; Old Mary, Hungerford Bridge of pneumonia; little Svetlana, Soho—some bastard ruptured her spleen and I don’t think she was even fourteen; Too-Tall Tina, in a fire—she wouldn’t have been there if some bastards hadn’t been beating on her for her prescription and her benefits. Where were you then? What’s so special about Natalie? Oh yeah, I forgot about the one-law-for-the-rich, one-law-for-the-poor police.’

Sprague leapt to his feet, picked up his files, raised them above his head and brought them down on the table with such a crack that even DC Anderson jumped. Then he swung round and left the room.

I said, ‘Maybe he should try anger management.’

‘The one time you choose to be articulate, clear and understandable… ’ Anderson sighed.

‘I don’t choose. I live in the Devil’s machine by the Devil’s rules, and so do you. We’re all his pawns. But some of us, like your Mr Sprague, are his minions. I haven’t made up my mind about
you
.’

‘Sometimes she makes a twisted kind of sense,’ he said to Kaylee, ‘and then I begin to worry.’

‘Perhaps the Detective Inspector should just listen,’ Kaylee said, pink and panting. ‘P-perhaps if he worried about the details later… ’ She broke off, twisting a button on her neat black jacket.

I finished my tea. It didn’t help. I needed Electra. She was my best friend. Kaylee was no substitute.

DI Sprague came back. He said, ‘I’ve taken my tranquiliser. Now, can we get on with it? You were saying you got to Harrison Mews at some time between nine and ten in the morning. What did you do then?’

‘I waited for him—Ashmodai. I might have dropped off for a moment. He was sleeping under scarlet satin, taking more than half the bed. That’s what he does. He takes all your life and leaves you with a tiny corner of your own duvet.’

‘You went in and
saw
him?’

‘I didn’t know which house he was in. I don’t have to see him. He lives forever in here.’ I tapped my head and my heart.

‘Then what?’

Then I had a problem: Joss. Should I save myself and tell them about Joss, or save myself and
not
tell them about Joss? I said, ‘I want round the clock police protection.’

‘You’ll have round the clock prison protection if you don’t tell me who was with you. You were seen with two other people so don’t lie.’

‘I can’t be seen. I’m invisible—when I ask for
my pills
. There was someone but I can’t tell you his name cos he’d kill me, I mean really kill me with boots and scrambled brains.’

‘C-calm down.’ Kaylee patted the back of my hand.

‘He’s one of the big, strong and violent ones who always do Satan’s bidding. When he stamps on me with his massive boot my skull breaks and they have to stitch me up. My teeth crumble and I can’t afford a dentist. What can you do compared with that?’

‘You don’t want to find out.’ Sprague too was big and strong. He had a violent smile which showed all of his blood-stained teeth.

Back in my cell, they gave me two more pills, a glass of water and a ham sandwich. Then they left me alone.

Chapter
38

It Gets Worse

 

‘W
here’s Kaylee?’ I said.

‘She was held up,’ Anderson said. ‘She’ll be here in a minute.’

We were in the same scruffy white room with the grey plastic-topped table, four chairs, recorder and camera. The other chair on my side of the table was empty. I put my foot up on it so the cops could see the strapping and remember I was injured. It works with Electra—bandaged paws earn me points for caring. Why doesn’t it work on the cops?

Dl Sprague said, ‘When you went to Harrison Mews you were with two friends. Correct?’

‘I want to wait for my legal advisor.’ I was tired, so very tired. I don’t know why. The pills had knocked me out for two solid hours so I wasn’t short of nap time.

‘She’ll be here. Now answer the question.’

When they woke me up I was dreaming about being pegged out in the desert for the scorpions to eat. I was stretched so thin I was nearly transparent and the ants were beginning to carve little fingernail-shaped scallops out of my edges, as if I were a leaf, and carry them away to a hole in the ground. My skin felt raw and paper-thin and my throat hurt from the dry desert air.

I said, ‘I’m not well and everything hurts. Also, the first time I went to the mews I was alone. And then this bloke came along. But if I say his name I’ll die in a horrible way. He’ll stick me down a hole in the ground for the ants to eat. But first he’ll kick my head into chutney and spread it on his burger.’

‘Is he homeless?’ Anderson asked. ‘Is his name John Farmer?’

‘Showing the witness a photograph of John Farmer,’ Sprague droned into the recorder.

I stared down at a police photo of Joss. He looked grim and cruel. I was horrified. ‘If you know all this,’ I said, ‘why are you making me commit suicide?’

‘We need to confirm witness statements,’ DI Sprague said. ‘Is this John Farmer?’

‘Never heard of a John Farmer.’

‘But you do recognise the face,’ Sprague said. ‘Is this one of the men you took to Harrison Mews?’

‘I didn’t take anyone anywhere except for Electra. She’s the only one I trust.’

‘You took two men, one of whom has a record for persistent theft, burglary and assault, to the home of Natalie Munrow.’

‘I went there because the Devil told me to. I didn’t know Natalie. How would I know where she lives?’

‘Lived,’ Sprague said flatly.

‘Are you sure? Couldn’t you have got the doxy duo mixed up?’

‘Like you did?’ Sprague sneered.

‘We’re absolutely sure,’ Anderson said. ‘No doubt at all.’

I sighed. ‘Then why did the Devil do it? He does evil for gain as well as pleasure, and a nice fat insurance policy would be a gain. Except he doesn’t gain; the nephews do, so it doesn’t make sense.’

Anderson said, ‘How do you know about the nephews?’

I was so tired I almost didn’t recognise my mistake. When I did, I let my head droop down to my chest and said, ‘Lord Ashmodai sometimes lets the
few
, the chosen
few
, gain. It encourages them to obey him.’

‘For God’s sake!’ Sprague spat. ‘Let’s get back to John Farmer before global warming kicks in and fries us all. Do you recognise the man in this photograph? And was he in the vicinity of Harrison Mews on the day in question? You don’t have to say a fucking word; just nod your head.’

So I nodded my head because Anderson was still looking at me with a peculiar expression on his face. If we got into how I knew about the nephews I’d be putting Smister into the frame. Morally, it’s better to rat out an enemy than a friend—though physically it’s the other way round, especially if your friend is a lady-boy and your enemy is Joss.

I said, ‘I don’t know the name you know, and I won’t use the one I do know. But he decided there wasn’t a mission in the mews and we left.’

‘Where did you go?’ Sprague asked. But I was wondering if I’d get into more trouble if I told him that was when I saw Natalie come out of the house and be picked up by Chantelle in the little red German car. On the other hand I’d already proved to myself that I couldn’t tell which doxy was which, and I couldn’t remember if I’d actually seen who was driving the red car. On the whole, I thought, it’d probably be best if I only dealt with what Old Filthy actually asked.

‘Are you even listening?’ Sprague barked.

The door opened and Kaylee scampered in looking harried.

‘Interview commencing at 16.49.’ DI Sprague hurriedly pushed the button that started the recorder.

‘Are you okay?’ Kaylee said as I slowly and painfully started to take my feet off her chair. ‘No, no, I’ll stand.’ Which was great strategy because the cops, who wouldn’t break a sweat fetching me an extra chair, immediately ordered one up for her.

‘Okay,’ Sprague said, ‘we’ve established that you and John Farmer left Harrison Mews together. What did you do then?’

‘There’s an offie near South Ken Station and we went halves on a six-pack.’

‘And then?’ Sprague made cranking signs with his hand.

‘And then I went to the bog for a wash and when I came out J… Whatsisname had got into a punch-up with another guy so we left… And then,’ I said, because bastard Sprague was still cranking, ‘we wandered around looking for a quiet place to sit down.’

‘When you say “we”?’

‘Electra and me. We’d been on our feet all morning and she gets twinges.’

‘So?’

‘So we had a nice little kip in a graveyard.’

‘Where?’ Sprague was so damn pushy. ‘What time?’

‘I still don’t own a watch, and I don’t know where we were except there was a nursery school in the chapel and they gave us milk and chocolate biscuits when we woke up. One of the kids called me Big Foot.’

‘That can be checked,’ Anderson said, making a note in his little book.

Sprague started cranking again, so I said, ‘And then I went back to Harrison Mews.’

‘Why?’ Anderson said.

‘I don’t
know
. The Devil called me and I came running. He hadn’t called me for years but there he was, dragging me back, with his icy hand burning my arm.’

‘You saw him again?’ Sprague said. ‘You saw him at Harrison Mews?’

‘I saw him here.’ I put my hand on the place where my heart should be.

‘I-I think it was a metaphor, sir,’ Kaylee said, glowing pink under the strip lighting.

‘And don’t keep doing that air-cranking thing,’ I added. ‘It’s annoying.’ I wanted to give Kaylee time to recover.

‘Oh,
I’m
annoying
you?
’ Sprague said. ‘Anderson, take over or I’ll throttle her.’ He got up and went to stand in the same corner as the camera.

Anderson stared at me and I stared at him. He had a pleasant, potato face which was only just beginning to bake hard.

‘Okay.’ He smiled. I think he might’ve had custard for his pudding. Something smelled of custard and it certainly wasn’t me. ‘You went back to Harrison Mews. What happened then?’

‘I think maybe we went to sleep again. This is scary and confusing. Someone tried to kick Electra and she ran away.’

‘Was it John Farmer?’

‘You’ve got to say I never mentioned their names.’

‘I will,’ Anderson said, ‘I promise. Now, you said “their names”. So more than one man attacked you?’

Another mistake. It was like there were two parts of my brain and they were both playing bebop but in different keys. I started to shake.

I said, ‘One man kicked me. I don’t remember.’ My hand went up of its own accord and fingered the scars round my mouth.

‘T-take your time,’ Kaylee whispered. ‘You’re doing well.’

But I wasn’t—my joints ached and my clothes had been woven from threads of razor wire.

Anderson said, ‘I’m showing the prisoner another photograph. Do you recognise this man?’ The photo he put on the table between us was of Georgie looking cross and pathetic. ‘All I’m asking you to do at this stage is to nod your head if this man was also in the mews the day Natalie died.’

He waited patiently and in the end I nodded. I’d already dobbed Joss in so there wasn’t any point protecting Georgie.

‘How did they know which house to break into?’

‘I didn’t see. Maybe the Devil left the door open for them. They certainly left the door open for me. The Devil wanted me to go in.’

‘Did the Devil order them to burglarise the premises?’

‘For he is the Lord of Chaos, Confusion and Muddied Waters.’

‘And why did he order you to enter 14 Harrison Mews?’

‘I am the agent who protects him from earthily justice. Being called is my calling.’

Dl Sprague stepped out of his corner and said, ‘Are you telling me that Graham Attwood murdered Natalie Munrow and set you and your two friends up to take the blame?’

‘Did I say that? You’re stuffing my mouth with words nobody said. I’ve named no names. I’ve been out in the rain and winderness for forty days and forty nights… ’

‘I’m f-formally requesting a break for my client,’ Kaylee said, distressed.


When I say so
,’ Sprague roared.

‘This is being
recorded
,’ Kaylee said, bravely. ‘M-my client hasn’t been allowed a proper wash or a hot meal. Sh-she’s been in custody going on eighteen hours. And her AA sponsor’s been waiting in reception for over an hour.’

‘She’s in AA?’ Anderson asked. ‘Not a huge success, is it?’

I said nothing, but I was digging my fingernails into the palms of my hands, hoping Smister hadn’t been dumb enough to come and poke his head into the lion’s mouth. Then I hoped against all odds that he’d smuggled a drink in for me. Yes, I might’ve sacrificed Smister and even Electra for a little snort just then. But Smister wouldn’t come unless Abbie allowed it. Maybe she sent him with a poisoned drink. Then she could have him all to herself.

My aching teeth came loose in my mouth and started chattering to each other.

‘One more question,’ Dl Sprague said. ‘Answer it properly and I’ll authorise a little break for you. Fart around and you can rot here for as long as I like.’

Anderson got up and joined him in the corner where they whispered urgently to each other.

Anderson came back and sat down. He said, ‘When you went into 14 Harrison Mews, who was there and what did you see?’

‘I didn’t see anything. It was blurry. The door was open and I crawled in. On hands and knees. I thought there might be a drink inside. I wasn’t feeling too well.’

‘Was there anyone else in the house except you and Natalie? Was she already dead?’

‘I don’t know,’ I wailed. ‘I keep asking myself that.’

‘And what do you keep answering?’

‘That’s three questions,’ Kaylee said.

I said, ‘I didn’t see Natalie. I don’t know why, except maybe Satan clouded my vision.’

Dl Sprague loomed towards me saying, ‘So you thought you’d just pop upstairs for a scented bubble bath? The floor was covered with blood, there was a body on the couch, and you’re trying to tell me you didn’t notice?’ If I hadn’t known better I would’ve thought he was genuinely perplexed.

‘That’s about f-five or six,’ Kaylee said, standing up. ‘I must protest.’

‘I thought the blood was mine,’ I said, touching my mutilated face and head. ‘I don’t understand either. The Master of Gore and Scattered Brains must’ve had a purpose. But he never tells me anything.’

‘Don’t cry,’ Kaylee said, handing me some tissues. ‘DI Sprague, I will make a complaint to… ’

‘Interview suspended at 17.23.’ Sprague looked disgusted. ‘We’re never going to get anywhere if she keeps breaking down every five minutes.’

‘You’ve seen the medical reports,’ Kaylee said. ‘Respect them—otherwise I’ll get a court order and have her removed to a… a c-care facility.’

‘If you mean, “Have her sectioned and s-s-sent to a l-l-loony bin”, just say so.’ He swung away and slammed out of the room.

Anderson looked at Kaylee and shrugged. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he said, leaving rather more quietly.

When we were alone, Kaylee said, ‘I-I-I think you’ll have to tell them everything. You need to give them a reason not to charge you. B-because the detective inspector really, really w-wants to. He’s got so much evidence against you and those two men. If you did nothing else, you all stole from the dead woman. It’s beyond question.’

‘Everyone said
I
was Natalie. They
gave
me her bag and her keys.’

‘They d-did what?’

No one had told her that. So I did. I more or less told her the truth—about amnesia, confusion, concussion. All I left out were the moments of clarity. And Smister—of course I left out Smister.

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