“Well, I agree,” says Elizabeth, nodding. “You’re absolutely sure you didn’t kill Tony Curran, though?”
Bogdan laughs. “I am absolutely sure. I would remember.”
“This has turned into a lot of questions, Bogdan, I’m sorry,” says Elizabeth.
“Is okay,” says Bogdan, looking at his watch. “Is still early, and I like to talk.”
“Where are you from, Bogdan?”
“Poland.”
“Yes, I’d got that. Which part?”
“Near Krakow. You heard of Krakow?”
Elizabeth certainly has heard of Krakow. “I have, yes; it’s a very beautiful city. In fact I went there, many years ago.”
It was in 1968, to be exact, to conduct an informal interview on trade delegation business with a young Polish army colonel. The Polish army colonel later went on to very happily run a bookmakers in Coulsdon, and had an MBE for services to the British State, which stayed in a locked drawer until the day he died.
Bogdan looks out over the Kent hills. He then holds out a hand. “I should work. It is nice to meet you.”
“It is nice to meet you too. My name is Marina,” says Elizabeth as she shakes his huge hand.
“Marina?” repeats Bogdan. His smile returns once again, like a baby deer attempting to walk. “Marina is my mother’s name.”
“How lovely,” says Elizabeth. She’s not proud of herself, but you never know when this sort of thing could come in handy. And really, if someone is going to have so much personal information tattooed on his body, what is she expected to do? “I hope to see you again, Bogdan.”
“I hope to see you too, Marina.”
Elizabeth watches as he continues up the path, swings open the heavy iron gates, and takes his shovel into the Garden of Eternal Rest.
There is more than one type of digger, thinks Elizabeth, as she starts to walk back down the hill. She thinks of another question she should have asked. Does Ian Ventham have the same alarm system as Tony Curran? If so, it would have been an easy job for him to get into Tony Curran’s house. Had he needed to. She would bet he does. She will ask Bogdan the next time she sees him.
When Elizabeth reaches the barricade, she finds that the gate has been padlocked, and that the padlock is being guarded by three women, including Maureen Gadd, who plays bridge with Derek Archer. Very badly, in Elizabeth’s view.
Elizabeth climbs the gate and makes the small jump on the other side back into the heart of the action. How many more years of that? Three or four? She spies Ian Ventham climbing out of his car as Chris Hudson and Donna De Freitas approach. Time to join in the fun, she thinks, and taps Joyce on the shoulder. Bernard is asleep in the chair next to her, which at least explains why Joyce hadn’t come snooping.
In theory, she approves of chasing after men, if that’s what you wanted to do, but surely Joyce must find it exhausting?
49.
Joyce
When Elizabeth arrived, Bernard had already fallen asleep, which I think was a blessing, because he does get worked up. He had looked tired when I had knocked for him this morning. I don’t think he’s sleeping at night.
Elizabeth and I went to see Donna and Chris, collecting Ron on the way. He was looking in the pink, which was nice to see. While it is still fresh, this is everything I remember after that.
Donna does something with her eye shadow and I always mean to ask what it is, but I haven’t yet. Anyway, it was DCI Hudson doing the talking, and he was quite impressive in his way. He was saying such and such to Ian Ventham. Ian Ventham said he wanted us all out of the way, and had the paperwork to back it up. Which seemed fair.
DCI Hudson said he wanted to talk to the residents, and Ron told him to talk to him (Ron) instead. Ron also said that Ian Ventham could stick his paperwork up the proverbial. Which is par for the course for Ron, as you know. Donna then suggested that DCI Hudson perhaps should talk to me. As a level head, of all things.
So DCI Hudson explained the legal niceties to me, and warned that he would be forced to arrest anyone who blocked the diggers. I said that I was sure he wouldn’t actually arrest anyone, and he agreed that this was true. So there we were, back to square one.
Ron then asked DCI Hudson if he was proud of himself, and DCI Hudson replied that he was an overweight fifty-one-year-old divorcé, and so, by and large, no, he wasn’t. This made Donna smile. She likes him—not like that, but she likes him. I do too. I was going to say to him that he wasn’t overweight, but he actually is a bit, and as a nurse, it’s best to never sugarcoat things, even when your instinct is to be protective. Instead I told him he should never eat after six p.m.—that’s the key if you don’t want diabetes—and he thanked me.
That’s when Ibrahim joined us and suggested that DCI Hudson might try Pilates, and Donna said that was something she would pay to see. Ian Ventham didn’t want to join in the fun, and told Donna and DCI Hudson that he paid their wages. Donna said in that case could she ask him about a pay rise, and that’s when Ventham started shouting the odds about this, that, and the other. People without a sense of humor will never forgive you for being funny. But that’s an aside.
Anyway, Ibrahim, who is very good with this sort of thing—conflict and inadequate men and stalemates and so on—stepped in and offered to “thin the crowd out” to give everyone a bit of breathing space. It was agreed that this was the thing to do.
