The Silent Pool Page 8

  ‘Oi, love, your butty's arrived,’ said the generously sized woman in the queue behind Erasmus.

  And indeed there it was on the counter, and Sharon, the bored looking sandwich technician as her name badge informed him, was holding out her hand waiting for his money.

  Suddenly, there was a screech of tires from outside, followed by shouting and the sounds of a scuffle. Everyone in the shop turned and looked towards the direction of the sound. Unfortunately the door didn't open directly onto the square. It was set off at a slight angle meaning the patrons couldn't rubberneck properly and no one was prepared to give up their place in the queue to walk to the door and see what was happening outside.

  ‘Hey love, your sandwich!’ It was the fat woman again. She gave Erasmus a dig in the ribs.

  ‘Are you OK?’ said Jenna.

  Sharon was shaking her head. ‘That's four pound la. Come on I haven't got all day, there are other customers.’

  And then from outside came the unmistakable sound of Heather's voice. ‘Erasmus help!’

  ‘Yeah, I'm fine. OK, give me the address!’ Erasmus hurriedly wrote down Jenna's address on a Philpotts napkin. ‘I'll see you late this evening. Got to go.’ And he hung up.

  ‘Yer butty, lazy arse. I'm starving!’ The woman dug the knuckles of her right hand into Erasmus’ ribs.

  Erasmus ran out the door of Philpotts.

  In the middle of the square there was a police wagon and a policeman was attempting to bundle Heather into the back of the van while another threatened her friends with a TASER as they crowded round and shouted at the cops.

  Heather was struggling on the floor and she kicked out and caught the policeman square on the shin. He gave a yelp of pain. Heather saw Erasmus and started shouting for him. The cop who had been kicked pulled out his baton. Erasmus could see he was bleeding from the nose where Heather's foot had connected. The cop lifted the baton as though he was about to strike Heather.

  ‘Stop that right now!’ shouted Erasmus at the top of his voice.

  The bloodied policeman turned his head in Erasmus’ direction. He had a name badge: PC Cooper.

  ‘Who the fucking hell are you then you beardy streak of piss?’

  Nice of the policeman to remind him that he hadn't had a shave that morning.

  Heather who was still laying on the floor gave Erasmus an elaborate wink. Luckily for her none of the officers saw because as Erasmus was daily reminded of by the pain in his right knee, policemen the world over didn't like people laughing at them. Erasmus decided to go full pompous.

  ‘I, Officer Cooper, work on behalf of Dakins solicitors and that,’ Erasmus pointed at Heather, ‘is my client you are assaulting.’

  ‘Resisting arrest,’ said Officer Cooper. ‘She kicked me in da nose.’

  ‘I saw a policeman holding down a sixteen-year-old girl and dragging her into a van. What's the charge?’

  Erasmus knew what the charges would be and, sure as eggs is eggs, Officer Cooper obliged.

  ‘Possession of a Class B drug namely GM Skunk and resisting arrest, of course,’ he smirked and waved a Ziploc® bag containing a roach smudged with black lipstick.

  Erasmus presumed that Heather had managed to ditch her stash somewhere or had it concealed in a place that would require a female officer to search.

  ‘Officer Cooper, I am guessing that now the strikes are over and you are back on performance related pay per arrest that you have targeted my client, who, by the way, has a prescription for her medical marijuana use, and in the rush for hitting your daily quota have inadvertently arrested a disabled young girl, confiscated her medicine and beaten her, and all in front of her representative.’

  Cooper glowered at Erasmus. ‘Show me her prescription.’

  Erasmus suddenly realised that without thinking about it he had put his whole career in jeopardy. Lying to a police officer and impersonating a solicitor probably wouldn't sit well with Dan's law firm. He gave an inner curse. And all he had done was pop out for a sandwich.

  ‘That's sensitive personal information under the Data Protection Act, do you have a court order for such disclosure?’

  PC Cooper glared at him. ‘I've got this,’ he said, swinging his baton into his fist.

  The other police officer, Erasmus could see his name badge said Higgs, let go of Heather and put his hand on Cooper's shoulder. Cooper didn't take his eyes from Erasmus.

  ‘Easy, Coops,’ said PC Higgs.

  Erasmus realised that now Cooper was also putting his career on the line and in doing so had yielded all his advantage.

  ‘Are you threatening an officer of the court, PC Cooper?’

  There was a crackle from the radio that PC Higgs carried on his belt. He pulled it out and Erasmus caught a crackly voice mention a 187. Erasmus knew what that one meant, a homicide.

  Higgs pulled Cooper aside. ‘There's another one,’ he whispered to Cooper.

  Cooper pulled away and turned back to Erasmus. ‘You got lucky, we got to go so I'll leave you and your jailbait but I won't forget you.’

  ‘Which is funny, PC Cooper, because I think I've already forgotten about you.’

  Erasmus helped Heather off the floor.

  ‘Are you OK?’ he asked her.

  Heather was smiling as she moved towards Erasmus and tried to give him a hug. Erasmus tried to dodge the hug but Heather was nothing if not nimble and she jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  ‘Raz, if you weren't such an old dude I tell you you'd be my man, ha ha!’

  Erasmus managed to put Heather down. Her friends had started to drift off, skateboarding to friendlier pastures.

  ‘Look Heather, you've got to take care. I can recognise an evil streak and that cop has one a mile wide. With the end of the strike they are looking for busts and with your record next time you get convicted you are going down.’

  Heather's smile dropped. Maybe he was getting through to her, thought Erasmus.

  ‘Listen Raz, if I've told you once I've told you a million times it's “H” not Heather and you could be right but you are making some big assumptions about what life is about. I owe you one. Catch you around!’ And with that she dropped her board and skated after her friends.

  Erasmus stood there for a second and then noticed he was being watched. It was the fat woman from Philpotts. She was eating a sandwich. His sandwich.

  She saw Erasmus staring at her.

  ‘Whaaa?’ she said through a mouthful of cheese and salad cream.

  CHAPTER 12

  The address Jenna had given him was in Aigburth. It was a part of the city that he was not familiar with. It seemed like he wasn't the only one as the cab driver drove around narrow streets looking for a road that didn't seem to show up on his sat nav. Eventually, it was Erasmus who spotted a set of stone gateposts set back from the road that marked the entrance to a private road. Just beyond the posts, Erasmus could see an old black street sign with grey lettering spelling out Grasmere Road. The cabbie performed a quick U-turn and took them through the gates.

  The change once through the gates was clear. Redbrick Victorian terraces gave way to grand Georgian mansions partially hidden by oak and beech trees.

  The road ran down towards the river. Erasmus ticked off the numbers eventually stopping at the last house before the road ran out, just before the railings that marked the division between land and sea.

  The house overlooked the black strip of the Mersey and across to the Wirral. It was a large Georgian house, white stucco and columns that spoke of merchants, slaves and molasses.

  Erasmus paid the cabbie and stepped out into the cold early evening. It was already getting dark, old-fashioned wrought-iron lamps casting little puddles of light in the gloom. Erasmus imagined not much had changed on this road in the last hundred years.

  A curtain flicked at one of the large downstairs windows and then a coach light came on above the shiny black front door. A few moments later, the door opened and Jenna appeared under the pale ligh
t, beckoning him in. She was wearing skin-tight jeans with leather boots and a fitted mohair jumper. Erasmus felt his heart quicken. He briefly thought of the sirens that lured sailors to their doom. Instinctively, he felt for the phone in his jacket pocket: Molly was a call away.

  ‘Hi,’ she said as he approached. Her eyes were twinkling with an amusement that Erasmus had seen before. It was the knowledge of charms worked.

  ‘Bet you weren't expecting this place, were you?’

  Erasmus shook the proffered hand. ‘Well, no not really. I thought Stephen worked for the council. And you…’ He floundered.

  Jenna laughed

  ‘Yes, I'm a housewife and it's a noble profession so you don't need to feel embarrassed. I made my choices and am happy with them. Anyway, come and let me fix you a drink.’

  Erasmus followed her inside.

  She led Erasmus through the large hallway towards a reception room. They passed a corridor that led to the kitchen and as they did so Erasmus noticed a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye, a dark shape moving quickly, as though to get out of sight.

  Erasmus paused and looked towards where he had seen the movement.

  Jenna turned around.

  ‘You OK?’

  ‘I thought we were alone?’

  ‘Ever the investigator, eh? As you may have guessed this is not mine and Stephen's house. It's Stephen's uncle Theodore's house. Come on, you can't tell me you don't know about him. I know why Dan's firm have taken my “case”. He's kindly agreed to put me up for a few days until, well, until Stephen comes back. And yes we are alone. I think you may have just seen Theo's Labrador though. ’

  She held open a door.

  The reception room was different from the hall. Instead of white walls and oak floors this room was an explosion of primary colours and soft furnishings. Jenna gestured towards a sofa and Erasmus sat down. Jenna took a seat on the same couch, turning to face him. She was so close her thigh was brushing the top of Erasmus’ leg.

  He took a deep breath. He was here to give her bad news and he would do it professionally and then leave, he told himself.

  ‘What can I get you?’

  Erasmus declined the offer of a drink. The truth was he didn't want Jenna to move from right where she was sat. She, however, got up anyway and went across to a drinks cabinet in the corner of the room. She fixed herself a long slug of neat Absolut over ice and then sat back down next to him. There was an awkward silence for a moment.

  Erasmus tried to focus on something else. On the coffee table there was a large book. Erasmus picked it up and looked at the cover: Architecture – the Masterworks by Will Pryce.

  ‘Is Theo into architecture?’

  ‘It's mine actually. First a housewife and now assuming this must be Theo's? Shame on you.’

  Erasmus started to blush but then he saw that Jenna's lips were upturned and a mischievous glint was in her eye.

  She took the book from Erasmus’ hands and flicked through its pages. Then she shut it sharply and placed it back on the table.

  ‘A housewife doesn't have much use for architecture,’ she said, and for the first time there was a hint of frustration in her tone.

  ‘You sound resentful.’

  She sipped her drink and looked away from him into middle distance.

  ‘I was Stephen's first girlfriend and he married me. It sounds so old-fashioned in this day and age but that is the way Stephen has always been. He loved me from the first moment he saw me. He has always been sure and free of doubt.’

  ‘And you? Are you the same?’

  ‘Not at all. I am full of doubt, always have been. Stephen wasn't my first real boyfriend either.’

  ‘Where did you two meet?’

  ‘I met him at university, Manchester Met.’

  ‘Let me guess, your eyes met over a pint of snakebite?’

  Jenna picked up the book again and placed it on her knees.

  ‘Not quite. I was a third-year Architecture student and he was a first-year Theology major. We were oil and water.’

  ‘So how did you meet?’

  She sighed.

  ‘He rescued me.’

  ‘From what?’

  ‘From myself. I enjoyed University. I grew up five miles from here in a dirt-poor part of this city and education was the only way out for me. I knew this from an early age so I ignored everything and concentrated on learning. I played by the rules and I was rewarded. I got my A-levels and I went to university.’

  ‘So, what happened? Why did you need rescuing?’

  Jenna looked away, when she turned back to face Erasmus any hint of playfulness had disappeared.

  ‘I fell in love.’

  ‘With Stephen?’

  Jenna flipped open the book that was resting on her lap.

  ‘No, not with Stephen, with Dietrich. He was a visiting professor, he drank coffee not lager and smoked Turkish cigarettes, he talked passionately of ideas and not the latest indie pop band sensation. He was, as I imagined, all that university would be. I felt like I had finally met someone who understood what life was about.’

  She was smiling now.

  ‘But you ended up with Stephen?’

  Her fingers played with a small St Christopher that hung around her neck.

  ‘Dietrich was always honest with me. He told me that we were “lovers” and not tied to each other. I agreed but of course I had fallen head over heels in love with him.’

  ‘Did you tell him that?’

  ‘God no! He would have been off like a shot. “Love” to Dietrich was a materialist invention of the decadent bourgeoisie.’

  ‘So, how did it end?’

  ‘I got pregnant. When I told Dietrich he was very serious, but businesslike, as though this were an occupational hazard. I don't think it was the first time for him. He told me he would get it fixed. The next day he met me at the Student Union bar. I thought – and looking back, I just want to hold the young girl who could have believed this – I thought, he was going to ask me to marry him. Instead, he handed me an envelope with £750 inside and a card for an abortion clinic. And that was the end of my dreaming days.’

  ‘Nice piece of work.’

  ‘I was devastated. I threw the money back at him and ran from the bar. I didn't know what to do. My dad had died when I was a teenager and my mother just watched daytime TV and drank. I ran through from the bar and didn't stop running until I came to the college chapel. It was just a small room with plastic chairs and no religious iconography, and I was never religious, but that quiet room allowed me to stop and think. And I prayed, Erasmus, I don't know who or what to but I asked for help and the next person to enter that room was Stephen. He was the chair of the Student Catholic Society and he was there to set up the room for a prayer meeting. He saw me crying and he knew what to do straightaway, he came and held me and told me everything would be OK.’

  Tears were beading in Jenna's deep brown eyes.

  ‘And was it?’

  ‘After a fashion, yes. I was with Stephen from that moment. He helped me through the pregnancy. I had to drop out of college, of course, but I had a family of sorts, Stephen and the other members of the Catholic Society. All my old friends thought I was mad, that I had become indoctrinated but that wasn't the case, I just felt wanted by them, secure.’

  ‘And the child?’

  ‘My son Benjamin was born, beautiful and healthy. I held in my arms and then he was taken away. I gave him up for adoption. It was what we both wanted. I always thought more children would follow but it was not to be.’

  She moved her head to the side and snorted. Erasmus guessed it was an effort to hold back tears.

  ‘And you and Stephen?’

  ‘We never talked about the child again. We never went on any “dates”, we just became “together” and we have been ever since.’

  ‘What about the child, Benjamin?’

  ‘I decided long ago that it was best that I didn't keep in touch – for him, his
new family and for me. I suppose he could choose to find me one day and I'll face that if it happens.’

  ‘Did you never, you and Stephen, want any kids?’

  ‘Oh yes, desperately.’ She looked down. ‘When we got married he gave me this – ’ her fingers pulled at the silver chain around her neck and she showed him the small, plain St Christopher ‘ – to represent the journey I had been on to reach him and to reach God. Stephen also had an identical pendent. But we never had any kids, we couldn't. God's reward for that journey maybe?’

  She placed the book back on the table and cleared her throat.

  ‘But enough of me. This is ancient history. So, Erasmus, what have you got to tell me?’

  A wave of anxiety came over him. He ignored it.

  ‘Of course, but it may be better if I show you.’

  ‘Show me what?’

  He pulled out a leather portfolio binder from his briefcase and handed it to Jenna.

  ‘What are these?’

  ‘Equifax searches, credit information on Stephen’

  ‘I know what we owe, we have a joint account.’

  ‘I'm sorry about this but it's all there. About a year ago, Stephen owed a substantial sum of money to various lenders. It's about £50,000 in total.’

  Jenna scanned through the documents.

  ‘I don't believe it. We shared everything.’

  ‘Addicts become experts in covering their tracks.’

  She gave him a sharp look.

  ‘Addicts? Stephen barely touched a sherry at Christmas.’

  ‘He's a gambler. He has a number of spread betting accounts. He owes nothing on them now, but he did and he borrowed the money to pay them off. Did you suspect anything?’

  Jenna hesitated for a second. ‘No,’ she replied.

  For a moment Erasmus thought to push it further – there was something she wasn't telling him he was sure – but he held back.

  ‘The credit checks go back ten years.’ He spread the Equifax searches on the table, covering the Architecture book. ‘They show that Stephen was swapping loans around, always one step ahead of any legal action, borrowing from one lender to pay another.’

  ‘Borrowing from Peter to pay Paul,’ whispered Jenna.