Untouchable Things (40 page)

Rebecca leans over Anna. “How long had – the body been there?”

“Over a month, they think.”

“Do you think they suspected us? Is that why they’ve been questioning us?”

Anna shrugs. “They certainly kept the Clive Rothbury thing close to their chest. Him being missing like Seth.”

A shaft of sunlight is attacking half of Catherine’s face. She dodges away and Michael sees that her eyes are wet. She looks like she’ll lose it any second. Her face is bloodless. Charles shuffles up to let her move towards him and bends closer to the newspaper. “They think the cause of death is stabbing.”

Anna leans forward. “He must know something. Jake, Jack, whatever.” She sees Michael’s face and drops her eyes. “Look, this is serious. We thought it was bad before but – this? We all have to rack our brains. Is there anything we can think of, anything we’ve overlooked?”

The dark mass in his belly is rising to his throat and he needs to hiss it out. “Well, yes, Anna. Perhaps we’ve overlooked the possibility that Seth’s disappearance and his father’s murder are connected in another way.”

She frowns. “You don’t mean?” He says nothing. “If you’re saying Seth had something to do with it, how do you explain the fact that he was with us that night?”

“A most convenient alibi.” His jaw is clenched so that the laugh barely escapes. Rebecca shakes her head at him over and over again. Catherine turns towards Charles but he doesn’t meet her eyes. Anna opens her mouth but José gets there first.

“Listen, all of you.” It’s the first time he has spoken. “I’ve just remembered something. When I did up that house of Seth’s in Shepherd Bush there was a cupboard up in the attic that was always kept locked. Seth said he stored some of his stuff there. He was a bit weird about it. Maybe there’s something in there, something that could lead us to him.”

Anna nods. “It’s worth a look.”

“Do we tell the police?”

She hesitates. “Maybe we should check it out ourselves first.”

“Or maybe we should leave well alone.” Michael can’t help raising his voice again. They’re getting sucked in deeper and deeper. “How would we get in anyway?”

José sighs. “That’s the thing. I might still have a spare key, but I’ve not seen it for ages.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Charles sits up in his seat. “It won’t be a problem. I’ve broken into enough of my flats in my time. You’d be amazed how many clients lose their keys.”

“Charles – you dark horse.” And they can’t help laughing at his mischievous face. Charles, of all people. He leans over to José and raises his eyebrows.

“So, José, you and me? Let’s play detectives.”

Scene 8

They are sitting next to each other in Charles’ car, watching the house with the red front door. They’ve been there a while. Charles has just fetched them pizza from the high street. He seems to be rather enjoying himself. “Look at us, sitting here like Starsky and Hutch.”

“Hardly.” José is not enjoying himself.

Charles ignores him. “Think we should ring the bell soon. Just to be sure there’s no one home.”

There’s no car outside the house and there’s been no discernible movement from the windows while they’ve been there. But they do need to be sure. Charles fumbles in his briefcase and pulls out a laminated restaurant menu.

“Here you go.” He coughs and there’s that mischievous look again.

José stares. “What’s this?”

“It’s a prop for when you ring the bell.”

“When I ring the bell? No way, mate, this is your idea. You do it.”

“But I don’t look Turkish.” He strokes his beard. “You’re opening up a new Turkish restaurant and want to tell people about it.” Charles ignores his spluttered refusal. “Come on, ham up the accent:
please I am wanting to let you know new café…
”

“Charles! This is outrageous. So because I’m Spanish… God, you’re as bad as Seth.”

Charles just winks at him.

* * * * *

Luckily there’s no answer. José returns to the car and thrusts the menu at Charles. “Go and have a kebab on me.”

But Charles becomes suddenly businesslike. “Okay, we’ll go to the back door. There’s a path down the side. Hope none of the neighbours are about.”

They knock on the back door too, just to be sure. The terrace is deserted. Charles leans on a screwdriver and the door gives way almost immediately.

The place is squalid. Saucers full of cigarette ash, pizza boxes, beer cans all over the work top. It smells like a hamster cage.

José blinks. “What a mess.” He can barely stand to look at it, his baby, roughed up and ruined. “It was beautiful when I’d finished it.”

“Come on.” Charles is already halfway upstairs. “Show me this cupboard.”

The cupboard is much harder to break into than the house, but between them they force the lock. José used to wonder about this cupboard quite a bit, when he was living here. Sometimes he’d try the handle, knowing it would be locked but wanting to turn it all the same.

“Shit. It’s pitch black in there.”

“Which is why we’ll be needing this.” Charles has thought of everything. The torch flicks on a large cardboard box full of papers. “We’ll have those for a start.”

“What, all of them?”

“Unless you fancy flicking through them until whoever lives here comes home and finds you.” Charles pulls out the box, dragging it with both hands, then crawls in. “It goes all the way back.”

“What’s in there?”

“Boxes of books. Records.” There’s a clattering sound. “Photos. I guess this is where he keeps them all.” Charles’ voice is a muffled echo. José feels a shot of panic.

“Let’s get going, Charles. We’ll take the papers and go.” He suddenly pictures Seth appearing at the top of the stairs. “Jesus, Charles, hurry up.”

Charles crawls back out. He’s holding something and his face is white around the smears of dust by his nose. They look down at it. It’s hair. Long, ginger hair.

“It was in a carrier bag.”

“Oh my…”

“Don’t worry, it’s a wig. But – you remember?”

Of course he remembers. He has never stopped remembering. “Put it back, Charles. Put it back now. Rub your fingerprints off it or something.”

Charles stares. “I can’t.”

“For fuck’s sake.” José grabs the wig with his sleeve and starts rubbing it on his jeans. One or two hairs detach themselves and cling to his thigh. “We should never have come here.” He flings the wig back inside the cupboard. “Let’s get out now.”

They are so focused on getting the box down two flights of stairs that they don’t notice Jake waiting for them at the bottom.

Scene 9

He is leaning against a wall in the kitchen, arms folded, chewing and grinning. “Well, if it isn’t Cagney and Lacey.”

They are halfway down the last flight of stairs. José screams; he can’t help it. They stop and stand for a second, gaping down at Jake.

“Ah,” mutters Charles.

“Down here will be fine.” Jake points to the corner of the kitchen as if they are removal men. They shuffle the box down and drop it in the corner. On top is Charles’ screwdriver.

“Don’t even think about it, buddy.” Said cheerfully as he sees the direction of Charles’ glance. “Why you don’t you come over here and we can chat.”

José cringes, waiting for the blow. But Jake gestures towards the table. “Have a pew. Beer?” He shakes the remains of a can of lager and laughs. José sits on his hands to stop them shaking.

Charles coughs. “What are you doing here?” José has to admire him, going on the offensive at a moment like this.

Jake sits opposite, trowel hands laid on the table. Two silver rings and the flash of his watch.

“You see, Charlie boy, that’s what I need to ask you. But I don’t mind going first. I’m living here. I’ve been living here since I lost my job last year. And you, my friends, have broken into my home.”

They gape.

“Is it really so amazing? Seth asked me to keep it quiet. You know how he is. Believe he did the same thing for you once.” He looks straight at José. “Nostalgic for the place, were you?”

José’s mouth is too dry to reply. Charles clears his throat. “We were looking for anything that could lead us to Seth.”

“Were you now?” Jake leans in. “Well, having never been nosy enough to force open the lock to a private cupboard, I don’t know what you found up there – apart from this nice fat box which is, of course, staying right here. But whatever you’ve seen, I’d advise you to keep quiet about it. You don’t want to add breaking and entering to whatever else you might have done.”

Charles stands up. “You’ve made your point.”

Jake remains where he is. “Attempted burglary too. Hmmm. First offence, let’s call it – eighteen months? Out in a year with good behaviour. And I’m sure your behaviour will be very, very good.” His eyes slide over José.

“That’s enough, Jake. Message received.”

“And while we’re at it, you’d better keep a grip on Miss Carmel. Wouldn’t want her saying anything that could get the rest of you in trouble.”

“Come on, José.” Charles pulls him to his feet. José isn’t sure which will give way first, his heart or his legs. They collapse into the car.

Charles bangs the steering wheel.

“What are you doing? Let’s get out of here.”

“Okay, okay. I need to think this through.” He looks across. “You know we can’t mention the wig to Rebecca.”

José nods. “I know. But can we just go now? He might come after us.”

“He’s not going to come after us. He’s got us just where he wants us.” Charles shakes his head with a dry little laugh. “And now there’s Anna to deal with. God knows what she’ll say about this.”

José isn’t looking at him. He’s looking at the large, muscular man coming out of the red front door. Charles follows his gaze as the man starts to walk towards them.

“Bugger.” He starts the engine and slams the car into first gear. “I guess it’s home to Anna then.”

Scene 10

[
Michael and Anna pacing; Rebecca, Charles, Catherine and José milling around
]