As if by Magic (18 page)

On the sofa, she always threw the cushions to the far side but now they were tucked into the corner where she would usually sit. The stack of letters that didn’t immediately go in the bin were always piled next to the door as a reminder of the bills she had to pay. She remembered putting an insurance note on the top that had a large purple logo in the corner. Now it was somewhere in the middle, with a plain letter from her doctor on top.

Standing in the doorway, Jessica continued to scan the room, before heading to her bedroom. The room should have been a mess of shoes, trousers and tops. Once a week she would gather everything up and head to the launderette. Not having someone to do her washing for her was undoubtedly the worst thing about moving away from home. Her Mum would even iron things; something she had largely left to her friend Caroline when they had lived together. Instead of the sight she expected, her shoes were against the far wall and correctly paired, while her trousers were folded neatly and piled in the corner. Feeling her heart beating quicker, Jessica opened her wardrobe to find all of her tops, shirts and blouses ironed and hanging in order from darker colours at one end to whites at the other. It was something she had never done in her life.

Jessica shivered. She would have been less concerned if she had been burgled. Possessions she could replace but this act of invasion felt so personal she felt sick.

In desperation, Jessica sat on the edge of her bed and phoned her Mum. Although she didn’t have a key for the flat, Jessica’s shortlist of who could have done it was just two people. After the standard small talk of assuring her mother she was eating properly and that work was fine, Jessica asked what her Mum had been up to. She missed most of the reply because, as soon as she said she had spent the day decorating, Jessica knew there was only one person who could have entered her flat: Brenda.

The woman was convinced Jessica had killed those animals and left them for her, while she had also said something about her washing going missing. This was some sort of retribution in the sense that it was far creepier than anything direct.

Jessica said goodbye to her Mum and promised to call again soon. Her lack of contact was a constant source of friction, although it wasn’t entirely deliberate – she simply didn’t have much to talk about.

She checked with her neighbour above and below, but both had been at work during the day, and then examined the front door. There were no obvious signs someone had broken in but Brenda had spent a lifetime working closely with a magician and Jessica could only assume she knew a few things about locks. Her own door was untouched.

Back in her bedroom, Jessica wondered what she should do. With everything Reynolds had said, she didn’t want to involve him and the rest of the station, while she doubted someone as careful as Brenda would have left fingerprints or anything else useful. Frustrated and feeling violated, Jessica kicked the neat rows of shoes until they were again scattered around the room. She frantically pulled the clothes from their hangers and tossed them back on to the floor – where they belonged until she decided differently.

Lying on the bed, Jessica stared at the ceiling wondering what she should do next. She had picked the fight thinking Brenda would crack first, but now there was either a third party interfering – or Brenda was playing both sides, implicating Jessica and intimidating her at the same time.

Jessica rolled on to the pillow she usually slept on and immediately felt the lump underneath. Fumbling under the covers, she was only partly surprised to pull out a deck of cards. The top four cards as she took them from the box were all queens. Jessica was certain Brenda had arranged for a Rubik’s cube and other tricks from her former husband’s repertoire to be left around the city. This was a similar message to leave her in no doubt who was responsible for the break-in. The clean-up was creepy but it was also a warning that she was capable of so much more.

TWENTY

Before going to sleep, Jessica locked her front door as usual and shoved a spare blanket into the gap at the bottom, making opening it from the outside incredibly difficult. Surprisingly, she fell asleep almost instantly and only woke up when her phone rang. Jessica fumbled around her nightstand, her hand flashing across the playing cards.

‘What time is it,’ she asked groggily, without opening her eyes or moving her head from the pillow.

‘It’s just gone six,’ said Reynolds’ voice. ‘Where are you?’

‘Where the sane people are: bed.’

‘Are you on your own?’

Jessica opened her eyes too quickly, allowing the stream of morning light creeping over the top of the curtains to dazzle her.

‘Sorry,’ Reynolds corrected himself. ‘That’s not what I meant. I was trying to ask if everything is... okay?’

Jessica heaved herself up in bed, pulling the covers with her. ‘Why?’

Reynolds coughed and she could hear the vague sounds of traffic in the background, meaning he was outside. ‘There’s been an incident.’

‘Where?’

Jessica knew the answer before Reynolds gave it: ‘At Brenda Gale’s house.’

‘What happened?’

Reynolds’ voice was weary. ‘You better come down.’

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jessica pulled in behind Reynolds’ vehicle and didn’t have to ask what had happened the previous night as the damage was clear. Multi-coloured paint had been thrown across the front of Brenda’s house. There were huge red and blue splashes across the magnolia walls and, with the overnight rain, it had all blended into one large sludgy mess. Jessica didn’t even wait for the question as Reynolds met her at the end of the driveway: ‘It wasn’t me.’

‘I never said it was.’

‘You were going to ask though. I was at home.’

Reynolds didn’t deny that he was going to ask. ‘She called us this morning; she’s a bit shaken. It’s not just this.’

Jessica wondered if Brenda really was upset, or whether she had done it herself. Either way, the finger of suspicion was pointing towards Jessica, even if it wasn’t in any formal way.

‘What else?’

‘Animal waste pushed through the letterbox and thrown against the windows.’

‘Ugh.’

‘Yeah, some poor bastard’s had to clean it up. Someone’s left a message too.’

Reynolds led her along the pathway to the front door. Although the walls next to it had been doused, the door was clear of paint. Instead, in clear block capital letters, someone had written on the white plastic with a black marker pen. It wasn’t a message as such, more a string of single and double-word messages of abuse, “bitch” and “whore” being among the more polite ones.

‘Sounds like they know her,’ Jessica mumbled. Reynolds ignored her.

‘Have we found anything?’ she asked louder.

‘Not much. It was done at some point overnight but it’s rained since the early hours. There are patches of flattened grass but no footprints either in the mud or in the paint on the floor.’

‘Anything else?’

‘One of the SOCO boys is some sort of splatter expert. He says the paint was thrown by someone under five foot eight because of the angle of the marks.’

‘Could be male or female then.’

‘Yes, not overly helpful but more likely to be a woman. Whoever it was took their tins with them.’ Reynolds pointed at a drip trail of paint leading along the driveway towards the pavement.

‘They had a vehicle then?’

‘We assume so. We’ve had people knocking on doors but everyone says they were asleep.’

Jessica looked at the pattern on the walls and windows. There was a thin patch of paving where the paint had pooled. Whoever had thrown it must have been standing on the very edge of the grass and would definitely have got dirty. ‘How much paint is there?’

‘At least five tins – it’s hard to tell.’

‘That’s heavy. Not many people could have carried that in one go from a car to here. Even if they were strong, it would be too awkward.’

‘It’s still not a big deal if they had sheeting in their car. They could have had the lids loose and then carried two at a time. It’s only a couple of minutes beginning to end.’

Jessica couldn’t help but feeling that both the pizza robbery case and this would have been sent sideways if it wasn’t for the people involved. She had been trusted to work on far more important things than either of them. Even professionally, Brenda was figuratively hovering over her. She was regretting letting the woman know that she was on to her. At the time, she thought it would make her do something stupid, now it seemed more like Jessica had been dragged into a game she wasn’t so sure about playing.

‘What about the writing?’ Jessica asked looking at the door.

‘We can get someone in to look at it properly but it’s very nondescript. Tidy, clean lettering. I’m sure that will tell the expert something but it shows it’s unlikely to be random.’

The door opened inwards to reveal Brenda in an elegant, shimmering purple dressing gown made of satin that came down to her ankles and was tied tightly around her waist. Although her hair was unbrushed and she had no make-up on, she still had a stylish air of grace that Jessica always felt in her presence.

She told them the kettle was on and invited them in.

‘I want to assure you we are doing all we can to find out who is responsible for this,’ Reynolds said delicately once they were all in the living room.

Brenda seemed disconcertingly calm. ‘I know you are, Inspector. I have faith.’

‘Do you know of anyone who might have a personal problem with you?’

Jessica felt as if both of them were going to turn to look at her and resisted an urge to fidget.

‘I don’t mean to boast Inspector,’ Brenda said carefully, ‘But I’ve been fairly well-liked my entire life. Most of the people who live around here are elderly and I go out of my way to make friends.’

‘Someone from your past perhaps?’

Brenda pulled her dressing gown tighter. ‘I’m sorry...’ Reynolds started to stand before she surprised both of them. ‘I was just wondering if I could have a word with your Sergeant; woman to woman. It’s a little delicate...’

It was the last thing Jessica had expected, while Reynolds’ undisguised look of confusion and concern between the two women hardly helped matters.

‘I’ve got to return to the station in any case,’ he finally said. ‘We will be in touch, Miss Gale. Don’t hesitate to call me if you think of anything. You have my number.’ He turned to Jessica before adding, ‘I’ll see you soon.’ Given the tone of his voice, he may as well have added: “Hurry up”.

Jessica looked up to see Brenda staring at her but neither of them said anything until the front door clicked closed.

‘That’s a nice blouse,’ Brenda purred, her eyes fixed on Jessica.

‘Thanks, I chose it myself.’

‘It looks as if it’s been nicely pressed at some point recently.’

‘It can’t have been,’ Jessica said. ‘I can’t remember the last time I picked up an iron.’

Brenda pushed her hair away from her face and made a clicking noise with her tongue. ‘I must admit, I didn’t expect quite such an obvious reaction. When I came downstairs this morning and saw what had been pushed through my letterbox, well, I wasn’t too pleased. And then I saw the paint and the writing...’

‘It wasn’t me.’

The woman shrugged. ‘Naturally. I thought this was going to be more subtle, more of a game, but this goes beyond the rules.’

Jessica was bored of whatever Brenda was trying to do. ‘I don’t know your rules.’

‘Decency and manners, Ms Daniel.’

‘What do you want from me?’

Brenda pursed her lips, having not expected the question. ‘I thought you knew? I thought this was what you wanted? Haven’t you been here not once but twice, accusing me of things you have no evidence to say I was involved with?’

‘We both know the truth.’

‘And therein lies the game, Ms Daniel. If you don’t want to play, you can walk away.’

‘You know I’m not going to do that. We both know what you did – people have died.’

‘“The hardest job kids face today is learning good manners without seeing any”. Do you know who said that?’

Jessica stood, ready to leave. ‘Kermit the frog?’

‘Fred Astaire; a quite fascinating man and performer. Perhaps those are words you should learn from Ms Daniel?’

‘I’ve got two words you can have if you want?’

Brenda stood and smiled. ‘Last night crossed a line; it can’t go without a response.’

Jessica pushed past her. ‘Maybe if you’d put this much effort into your marriage, you’d still be happily together, touring the world instead of a bitter, decrepit old woman?’

Brenda reached out and grabbed her arm and, for a moment, Jessica thought she was going to hit her. It was the exact flash of unconstrained anger she wanted to see and she winked provocatively at the woman. ‘Go on,’ Jessica said. ‘There are lots of people still outside.’

The older woman’s eyes narrowed. ‘No more warnings, Ms Daniel.’

‘You don’t frighten me.’

Brenda released her arm and smoothed the material down. ‘I’ll be seeing you.’

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Back at the station, there was a general sense of officers wondering if there weren’t more productive things they could be doing. The Superintendent was in for the day showing a new recruit with bright red hair around the station, much to the apparent approval of Rowlands, whose wandering eyes were quickly averted when Jessica coughed noisily behind him.

‘I’m sure the new girl won’t want you sexually harassing her,’ Jessica said.

‘Being friendly isn’t sexual harassment,’ Rowlands protested.

‘Tell it to the tribunal. Anyway, what’s going on?’

‘Not much. You?’

‘Oh the usual; someone breaks into my flat and threatens me.’

Rowlands looked at her as if to query whether or not she was joking but, when it was clear she wasn’t, he placed a hand on her arm. ‘Seriously? Who?’

‘Brenda Gale.’

‘Your woman from the Balthazar case and the killings?’

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t understand.’

Jessica lowered her voice as she tanked a chair across to his desk. ‘She knows that I know what she’s done. She thinks we have some sort of feud going because her house has been vandalised.’