Authors: Rebecca Tope
Beside Drew, Sid coughed, a single barking
sound, which attracted comment from Vince. ‘Sounds rough,’ he said.
Sid gave a shaky laugh, but said nothing. ‘We’re going to be for it,’ grumbled Pat, driving slightly faster than was strictly dignified. ‘There’s another big funeral following this one. We’re never going to be out in time. That Father Barry never knows when to stop.’
‘Stop moaning,’ said Vince. ‘We’re in plenty of time. So long as Sid doesn’t let us down.’
Sid was coughing again, drawing whistling breaths between spasms. Drew looked at him. The man was shaking. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ he asked.
Sid shook his head. ‘Nothing,’ he choked. ‘Something went down the wrong way, that’s all. I’ll be fine in a minute.’
‘You’ve got three minutes,’ said Pat unfeelingly, from the driving seat. Sid took a deep careful breath, then another, and nodded.
‘He’s okay,’ said Drew, catching Vince’s eye. Vince scratched his head, and shrugged. ‘Bit pale, though.’
‘I don’t care what colour he is,’ laughed Pat. ‘Just so long as his legs are working.’
Drew sneaked another look out of the back window, his view partly obscured by the coffin and its surrounding flowers. ‘Who’s in that third car?’ he wondered. ‘The second one
looks like people from the printworks.’
‘Probably some of his lady friends,’ muttered Sid, with a hint of bitterness. Drew remembered Sid’s comment, almost exactly a week earlier, when he and Vince had carried Jim into the mortuary.
Women all over him
. His wits sharpened, now that the eleventh hour was upon him, Drew wondered whether perhaps Sid’s wife had been one of Jim’s ladies, hard to believe though that would be. There was certainly some resentment in the man’s tone.
‘That could liven things up,’ laughed Vince. ‘I gather there were quite a few of them. I bet yesterday’s wake was a barrel of laughs, if they all showed up.’
‘They say he was careless about his dalliances,’ remarked Drew, hoping to provoke further disclosures. He was well rewarded.
Sid turned and smacked the coffin beside him, hard. ‘Careless was his middle name,’ he spat. ‘And being careless can kill, as everybody knows. I wouldn’t mind, except my girl’s got herself all tangled up in it and she’ll be lucky if she’s not in real trouble when the truth gets out.’
The crematorium gates in sight, Drew rushed in to prompt, ‘What do you mean?’
Sid smacked the coffin a second time. ‘Selling Viagra prescriptions to the randy old so-
and-so
, that’s all,’ he burst out. ‘Her and that Craig.
Criminal offence, that is. When I saw him on Saturday – doing as Susie asked me to, telling him to leave her alone – he went to pieces. Topped himself the same afternoon. How was I to know there was more to it than she told me? How’m I supposed to feel now, eh? And all because of this … bastard.’ Coming from Sid’s lips, the word carried enormous force. No wonder he was shaking, thought Drew sympathetically. Calculations and conclusions were clicking together at the back of his mind.
That’s one mystery cleared up
,
then
, a small voice said.
‘We’re here,’ he said gently. ‘Buck up, now. It isn’t your fault, Sid. None of it’s down to you.’
His coughing fit seemed to have passed, but Drew noticed that Sid’s hands were still unsteady as they slid to an immaculate halt outside the entrance to the crematorium chapel. Quickly, they climbed out of the hearse, and Pat tugged automatically at his sleeves, as he stood waiting for Philip Lapsford’s car to disgorge Monica and her sons. A second woman stood close to Philip, small and dark.
Must be his wife
, thought Drew automatically. His own hands were unsteady, and his guts were churning.
This is it
, he told himself.
The point of no return
.
As he’d assumed, the second car held Jodie, Jack and Ajash, who had been driving. They
stood together, an ill-assorted trio, Jodie so tall, Jack so pale as to be almost green, Ajash groomed to such perfection, he could easily have substituted for one of the bearers.
And as Drew had partly feared, the third car proved to contain not just Roxanne, standing broad and defiant, and clearly intent on meeting his eye, but also a woman who looked like her sister and a younger blonde woman who all too obviously fitted the description of Lorraine Dunlop. She too looked a greenish hue, with vivid eye make-up that only increased her tragic appearance.
With practised ease, Pat arranged everybody according to rank. The waiting room was already full of lesser mourners, who were chivvied into taking their places in the chapel. After a moment’s consideration, he also sent Roxanne and her companions in ahead of the coffin. Strictly speaking, it should be family only who followed it in, but in a brief exchange with Monica, he was persuaded that the printwork colleagues could be permitted to share the honour. It was, after all, a very small family.
Drew and Vince took the foot end of the coffin, and waited for Sid and Little George to take the other, as it rolled out of the hearse. With linked arms, they carried it down the short corridor, as they had done so often
before. Even in his limited time at Plant’s, Drew had already done this perhaps twenty times. Pat went ahead. As they entered the chapel, it was clear that Jim had known a lot of people. About thirty were standing around the walls, an overspill from the seventy-five or so available seats. Towards the front, they passed Gerald Proctor the dentist, sitting with Dr Lloyd. The landlord of the King’s Head was evident, with his large belly crammed into a dark suit. Shopkeepers; business people; one or two complete families; the elderly ladies from Primrose Close; several men of Jim’s age, looking wary and uncomfortable.
The coffin successfully deposited on the catafalque, the bearers all withdrew. The organ surged to a climax and then fell silent. The monumental Father Barry stepped forward, and the funeral began.
With nothing else scheduled that day, the men were in no hurry to leave. They could wait for Pat, who as Conductor, was obliged to supervise the funeral to its conclusion, and be available to the mourners at the end. They could all drive back to Bradbourne together in the empty hearse. Vince and the Georges wandered round to the office for their customary chat with Diana, the administrator there. Drew hovered beside Sid, knowing there was something he
needed to ask. ‘You knew Lapsford fairly well, didn’t you?’ he managed.
Sid nodded reluctantly. ‘But I don’t want to talk about him, all right? I should never have said what I did just now.’
Drew had to persist. ‘I mean – if you knew about his girlfriends and so forth – that’s pretty personal information. He must have confided in you.’
Sid shrugged. ‘Not specially. Common knowledge. Everybody knew what he was like. But I didn’t know what Susie was doing – I only got the full story on Sunday. Look, I just don’t
need
this. I told you already, give it a rest. Another hour and he’ll have gone up in smoke, and good riddance.’
‘And yet the chapel’s full,’ Drew pressed on. ‘That suggests he was well liked.’
‘
Liked!
’ Sid squawked, loud enough for Drew to worry that people in the chapel might hear him. He flapped a subduing hand. Sid dropped his voice from long habit. ‘
Nobody
liked the bastard. They’re all in there now,
celebrating
. There wasn’t a wife in town safe from him. And precious few daughters. The man was an animal. All he ever thought about was sex. New ways of doing it. New women to add to his list. Humiliating for Monica, too. And his sons. They all had to go round with their eyes
tight shut. His death has done this whole town a favour, mate. Take my word for it.’
‘But it wasn’t a heart attack, was it? If you know so much about him, you know that, as well as I do.’ Drew braced himself for the response.
‘Too late to worry about that now,’ Sid grinned unpleasantly. ‘Nobody’s ever going to prove anything now, are they. And don’t try to tell me that a few Viagra tablets are going to kill him. My conscience is clear on that.’ His expression contradicted his words. A sheen of sweat made his skin look sickly; his eyes flickered without meeting Drew’s and he seemed to be having trouble breathing.
‘
Your
conscience?’ Drew echoed. ‘I thought it was Susie’s you were worried about.’
‘Same thing,’ muttered Sid.
A cold hand squeezed Drew’s guts. The murky depths of Sid’s private life were not something he wished to explore just now. Whatever Sid thought Susie had done, Drew didn’t believe it had anything directly to do with Lapsford’s death. As calmly as he could, he started to move away. ‘I’ll be in the vehicle,’ he said. ‘We’ll be off soon.’
He then sought out Desmond, the crematorium superintendent, and found him talking to a woman in black on the flower lawn,
where tributes from the weeks’ funeral were laid out. Desmond noticed him hovering, and soon made his excuses. Drew awkwardly muttered, ‘Can I have a quick word? It’s rather difficult.’
The superintendent raised his eyebrows and nodded. Drew went on, ‘How long have we got before you charge this coffin? The one going on now?’
Desmond considered. ‘It’ll be after lunch. Gavin’s being very particular about getting his hour’s break these days, so I’d say it’ll be around two this afternoon before he gets to it. Why?’
Drew forced a laugh and improvised desperately. ‘You’re not going to like it. But the chap’s little dog died, and the wife thinks it’d be nice if they could go together. But she doesn’t want the sons to know. They’d think she was crazy – and they might object to the idea. You know what people are like. So – if I can get back here with it by two, d’you think we might bend the rules a bit?’
Desmond worked his mouth thoughtfully. ‘Can’t you get it cremated at the vet’s, and just put the ashes together later on? That’s what most people do.’
Drew shrugged. ‘Apparently that’s not good enough. I know I shouldn’t have, but I told her I’d have a go. She asked me on the quiet, so don’t say anything to Pat or the others, will
you? I don’t even need to open the coffin – just sling the dog in with him when Gavin’s charging it. Okay?’
Desmond sighed. ‘I suppose it’ll be okay. I’ll have to see it first, though. I’m not having you dispose of your old granny, pretending she’s a German Shepherd.’
‘Thanks, Des. I owe you one. I’ll be back by two.’
‘If you’re not, then we’re going ahead without you.’
Drew shivered at the rush of adrenalin caused by knowing he now had a mere two hours’ grace. Two hours when he could hardly hope to speak to any of his suspects, since they’d be at a funeral lunch somewhere. But suddenly anything seemed possible.
He joined Sid in the hearse. ‘May as well wait for Pat. Don’t suppose he’ll be long,’ Sid remarked. ‘Not that I like hanging about here when I’ve got work to do in the mortuary.’
‘He can’t get back otherwise, can he?’ queried Drew. ‘There isn’t another vehicle here.’
Sid frowned impatiently. ‘All right, Mr Clever. So we’ll wait. That’s what I said.’
At five to twelve, the chapel doors opened, and Pat stepped out, holding the door like a flunkey, for Monica and her sons to emerge. Mourners then streamed out, flowing to the
end of the long strip of bowling-green lawn, where they stopped and began to talk mutedly amongst themselves. At the other end of the chapel, a new hearse arrived with another coffin, and the conveyor belt system began to operate all over again. Drew visualised Lapsford’s coffin being hauled out from the trapdoor behind the catafalque, and trundled on a trolley to take its place in the queue for the furnace. He had consulted the day’s schedule earlier, and knew that it was a full day. Five or six different funeral directors, most of them from the nearby city, used this crematorium, and it was rare for there to be fewer than ten funerals each day.
Monica was pale, her jaw clenched. She smiled vaguely at the people who approached her to offer their sympathy, but it was obvious that she did not want to linger.
Drew watched anxiously from the hearse. He saw Jodie walk over to Lorraine Dunlop and say something to her: the beaky nose seemed to peck angrily downwards and the smaller woman put a hand to her mouth in surprise. Suddenly everyone else noticed too. David Lapsford took a few long strides towards the women, followed by Monica, Jack and Roxanne. Drew had opened the big door of the hearse and jumped down before he could stop
himself. Something important was unfolding, and there was no way he was going to miss it.
David got to Jodie first and reached out to take her arm. Jack shadowed him. From the angle at which Drew stood, the two men looked like twins. Jack’s hair might be shorter, his shoulders narrower, his heavy spectacles hiding the way his eyes sat in their sockets, but their profiles were identical. Astonished, Drew took a few steps closer for a better look. The impression only grew stronger: David and Jack had the same mouth; the same nose; interchangeable ears. Was he seeing something that everyone else had always known and taken for granted – or had he made a momentous new discovery? Deep in thought, he retreated a little, aware that whatever disagreement was threatening had been diverted by David’s timely intervention. Jodie spun on her heel and headed towards the car park with Ajash trotting worriedly behind her, and Jack hovering uncertainly, close to Monica.
Jack Merryfield is David Lapsford’s father
, Drew said to himself. The encounter at David’s home on Saturday afternoon, which now seemed so misguided and pointless, had involved some mention of David’s parentage, he remembered. He needed to check out the relevance of this piece of information, but he had only two hours
in which to do it. Which of these people would be most likely to provide him with the help he needed?
By five past twelve, the full team was back in the hearse and Pat was driving back to Bradbourne. ‘Went okay?’ Drew asked him; as Conductor, Pat had been the only member of the crew to witness the actual funeral service.
Pat nodded. ‘There were some tears,’ he said. ‘The blonde girl – the one that came in the following car. Was that the Dunlop wife? She cried the whole time. The gypsy woman had her arm round her.’