A Lesser Evil Part 18

Part of this was because the police were still questioning anyone with a known grudge against the Muckles. Frank had been carried off to the police station and questioned again for four hours. Stan had been kept even longer. Neither man had revealed what had been said, and that had been further cause for gossip. It appeared, too, that the police were still trying to establish the ident.i.ty of the card players who had been at Alfie's on the Friday night before the murder.

As Detective Inspector Roper had stated that Angela was killed on Sat.u.r.day morning, long after the card players had left, Fifi couldn't see why they had any importance in the investigation. But she supposed the police had to speak to everyone to try to establish Alfie and Molly's mood the previous evening.

Fifi and Dan had gone along to the pub last week in an effort to cheer themselves up. But it only made them feel worse, for instead of jollity, all they found was that a great many of the regulars had turned into bar-room lawyers, arguing about whether Alfie would hang or get life imprisonment. There were also those who boasted that they had inside information about the case.

One of these men, Johnny Milkins, a hard case with a big scaffolding company, claimed to have friends in the police force, and he said that the police were not entirely convinced that Alfie or even Molly had killed Angela. Everyone pooh-poohed that, of course; they didn't even believe Johnny had friends in the force. But Fifi knew he must have, for something he'd said could only have come from one of the officers who attended the scene of the crime.

Johnny's actual words were, 'A bloke that's twisted enough to f.u.c.k his own seven-year-old wouldn't bother getting a clean sheet to cover her. Someone else did that, after they smothered her.'

The facts about the s.e.xual abuse had filtered out very quickly after the event. It was this which had sent everyone into a spin of savage hatred and disgust. But the sheet had never been mentioned.

Fifi had mentally trawled over every last detail of what she saw that day in number 11. The clean sheet was the one thing which didn't fit in. Every bed in that house was like a filthy rat's nest, so why would Alfie even think to search out a clean sheet to cover the child? Fifi had considered that it could have been done in a moment of remorse at what he'd done. Or maybe it was just an attempt to conceal Angela should any of his family open the door. But whatever the reason was, it was uncharacteristic behaviour.

Fifi began to fear that if Angela hadn't been killed by one of her parents, that meant the real killer was still at large. He could be walking around amongst them, drinking in the pub, using the corner shop. Any child in the neighbourhood could be his next victim!

She did her best to suppress this vague fear as it did appear to be entirely groundless, but the more she a.n.a.lysed things Johnny Milkins had said, the more anxious she became.

Johnny certainly seemed to know a great deal about the police investigation. He claimed that in Alfie's statement he'd said he was so drunk at the card game the night before that he went to bed early, leaving the other men, whom he refused to name, still playing. As the other players often dossed down at his house, Alfie insisted that it was quite possible for one of them to have gone up to the top-floor bedroom and got into bed with the child.

Alfie also said that he'd told Angela the day before that she wouldn't be going to the seaside with the rest of the family because she'd been naughty. When he heard her crying the following morning he ignored her, and never even looked in her bedroom before leaving the house.

Several people in Dale Street had confirmed that Alfie had four or five men in for the card game the night before. There were also people who had heard some of them leave around two-thirty, but agreed it was possible that one or two of them could have remained in Alfie's house. It was possible, too, that they might still have been there after Alfie and his family left for the day. Apparently the police had found quite a few different sets of fingerprints in the room where Angela was found, and some didn't belong to any of the Muckles.

'No one wants to believe Alfie done it more than me,' Johnny said, thumping his big fists down on the bar. 'But it certainly ain't cut 'n' dried that 'e did. The Old Bill took fingerprints from all the bleedin' gla.s.ses in the card room, but so far they ain't matched them up wiv any names. Why's that? Surely any mate of Alfie's would 'ave a record? And why would a piece of s.h.i.+t like Alfie s.h.i.+eld those geezers? 'E must be scared of 'em, that's why.'

Fifi didn't get to hear the rest of Johnny's thoughts on the investigation because Dan whisked her out of the pub in a hurry. He said he'd heard quite enough on the subject and Fifi was to stop dwelling on it.

But she couldn't stop dwelling on it. It was on her mind from the moment she woke up in the morning until she fell asleep. She went over and over what she'd seen that day, and a.n.a.lysed it painstakingly. Yet there were still more questions than there were answers, and Johnny had only added to them.

She tried to picture the scene at number 11 that morning. Angela lying in bed crying because she was hurt. The rest of the family calmly getting dressed up in their best clothes to go out for the day.

Alfie was a brute, there was no question about that, but was it humanly possible for him to have gone upstairs just before they left, put a pillow over Angela's face and smothered her, then gone off for a picnic at the seaside?

Somehow a pillow seemed the most unlikely weapon for a man who normally used fists, pokers or sticks.

Yet if Alfie was innocent of this charge, why on earth was he refusing to name the other men? She would have expected a rat like him to squeal immediately when his own life was at risk. That suggested to her that there was something far bigger behind all this, or that Alfie knew the police didn't have enough evidence to convict him.

The police had come back to her just a few days ago, asking if she knew or would recognize any of the men she had seen going into one of Alfie's card parties. The only one she remembered reasonably well was a big man of perhaps fifty or so. But she couldn't recall his face, only that he wore a very smart grey suit and it seemed incongruous to be wearing it to go slumming at Alfie's. But she hadn't seen anyone arrive for that last card game because she and Dan were watching television and the evening sun was so bright they'd pulled the curtains over to get a better picture.

Fifi had asked the police point-blank if it was true they thought Alfie and Molly might be innocent. To her disappointment they would not offer a personal opinion. One officer said in a very tight-lipped manner that everyone was innocent until proved guilty and they were still following various lines of enquiry. That hadn't been any help at all.

It didn't help either that Dan wouldn't discuss any of this with her. Every time she mentioned it he went all silent on her. A few times he'd actually stomped off out. And she worried that one night he wouldn't come back.

'I'm going to work all day tomorrow,' Dan announced that night as they were getting ready for bed.

Fifi was just pulling her nightdress over her head, and as soon as she'd got it on properly, she rounded on him and asked why.

'For the extra money of course, sweetheart,' he said wearily, as if that was obvious. 'We can't move away without it. Why don't you spend the day going round some flat-letting agencies and putting our name down?'

One side of Fifi's mind told her Dan was being sensible, but the other side was suspicious of him. Sat.u.r.day afternoons had always been special to them. Dan would have a bath and change when he got home at noon, then they'd have some lunch together and often go out somewhere.

Even when she was pregnant and he was working late for extra money, he wouldn't work on Sat.u.r.day afternoons because he said the time with Fifi was far more important. The only occasion he'd ever worked a Sat.u.r.day afternoon before was the day Angela was murdered, and he only did it then as a favour because his boss had been good enough to keep his job open for him while he was off sick.

'If that's what you want,' she said in a sullen tone, and climbed into bed, lying down with her face to the wall. She expected him to get in and try to cuddle her. But he didn't. He faced the other way and they lay there with their backs to each other.

As usual he fell asleep very quickly, and that made Fifi even more annoyed. She couldn't understand why he'd changed so much. He didn't even seem to like her any more, yet alone love her. Was he regretting marrying her now? Did he think he'd be happier single, going down to the pub every night with his workmates?

She felt him bound out of bed the following morning, and once again she was reminded of how things used to be. Before Angela's death he had always been reluctant to get up, he would cuddle up closer and say he'd give anything to stay there with her. Now it was as if he couldn't wait to get away from her.

Fifi lay there crying after he'd gone. It was raining hard, and the thought of another long day cooped up alone in the flat was almost unbearable. August was nearly over, the whole summer had gone without so much as one day at the seaside. Next month would bring their first anniversary, and she couldn't help but think what they'd been like with each other when they first got married. They couldn't keep their hands off each other, often jumping into bed as soon as they got home from work, making love far more important than meals.

Dan used to want to know every last thing about her then. Stories from her childhood, about her friends, the people at work. He wanted to know what she was thinking, what she day-dreamed about. And she was the same about him.

They had only made love once since she lost the baby. Maybe that was down to her more than him; she was weepy and the plaster on her arm put her off. But Dan hadn't tried very hard to get her interested. Since the murder there had been nothing; even his cuddles seemed half-hearted. She guessed that he was afraid that intimacy would open the floodgates to how she felt about the murder. And he didn't want to hear that.

But how could she deal with the images of that day trapped inside her head, if no one would let her describe them? She also needed to know what had happened, who was responsible and why, and until she did, none of it would fade. Once, Dan had understood everything about her, so why couldn't he now?

But it wasn't just Dan who didn't want to talk to her. Miss Diamond said she was in a hurry every time Fifi saw her. Frank wouldn't answer the door when she knocked. Stan would smile sadly but could not be drawn into conversation, and Yvette never seemed to be at home any more.

Surely they all had the same sort of thoughts and questions as she did about it all? If the Muckles had killed Angela, what were they intending to do with her body when they got home that evening? Were they going to bury it in their garden? Borrow a car or van and dump it somewhere? What story were they intending to put about to explain her disappearance? Would anyone have cared enough about the child to question it?

And if it wasn't the Muckles who killed her, what was going on over at number 11? Who were these people Alfie wouldn't name? It was all too much having this milling around in her head.

Just after nine Fifi heard Miss Diamond sweeping the stairs. She had always done it every Sat.u.r.day morning, from her landing down to the front door. When they first moved in Fifi used to volunteer to do it, but the older woman said it was her job. When Fifi broke her wrist, her neighbour had started coming right up to their flat and doing the stairs all the way down.

Desperate to talk to someone, Fifi got up, pulled on some jeans and a blouse and opened the bedroom door. Miss Diamond was a couple of steps down from Fifi's landing, working with a small stiff brush and dustpan. She had on the blue nylon overall she always wore for household ch.o.r.es, but her hair was as immaculate as usual.

'I'll be able to do this part just as soon as the plaster comes off,' Fifi said. 'And I'll do it all the way down to make up for you doing it all this time.'

'It won't be long coming off now, will it?' the older woman said, looking up and smiling at Fifi. 'I'm sure you can't wait. '

'Only just over a week now,' Fifi replied. 'I'm so much looking forward to wallowing in the bath, it's not the same when you've got to keep one arm out the water. And it'll be good to go back to work.'

'I often think it would be nice not to have to go to work.' Miss Diamond paused reflectively in her sweeping. 'But however good it appears to be able to just potter about all day, I'm sure I'd be bored with it in no time. I think I'd miss my colleagues too, even though I'm always grousing about them.'

Fifi felt very relieved and pleased that her neighbour seemed in the mood for a chat.

'I really miss having people to talk to,' she admitted. 'Actually, I've been quite desperate since Angela's death. It plays on my mind.'

Miss Diamond gave her a sharp look. 'You must snap out of that,' she said briskly. 'The Muckles are an appalling bunch, they aren't worth a moment's thought.'

'Don't you want to know exactly what happened? Don't you ask yourself questions about it? You must have seen people coming and going over there. Can't you give the police some descriptions of people you've seen?'

'No, I don't want to know what went on there.' The older woman sounded very indignant. 'I have gone out of my way to ignore them and all their visitors. That family are absolute sc.u.m, animals that need putting down. Of course it's awful that the little girl is dead, but at least she won't have to endure any more. And we've finally got some peace.'

Fifi was very shocked at such a cynical view. 'How can you enjoy peace that was won by a child's death?' she asked.

Miss Diamond leaned on the banister and looked intently at Fifi. 'You remind me of myself at your age,' she said. 'Champion of the underdog, a lover of lost causes. It's admirable to have compa.s.sion, Fifi, but you have to temper it with realism.'

'I am am very realistic,' Fifi said indignantly. very realistic,' Fifi said indignantly.

Miss Diamond shook her head. 'No you aren't, dear. If you had been you wouldn't have trusted Dan to find you a flat in London, and ended up here. I heard you laughing when you first moved in. You thought it was romantic living somewhere so crummy. That's about as unrealistic as anyone can get.'

Fifi bristled. 'I couldn't come up here and look for a flat, and this was the only place Dan could find that we could afford. Why shouldn't I trust my husband to find a place for us anyway? Are you saying there's something wrong with him?'

'There's nothing wrong with him, he's a decent, very likeable man,' Miss Diamond said with a shrug. 'But he hasn't had the advantages you've had, Fifi. If you'd been doing the looking, you would've turned this place down, wouldn't you?'

'I expect so,' Fifi agreed. 'But he was getting frantic for us to be together, and so I made the best of it. So what's your excuse for coming to live here? I don't mean to be rude, but it sounds to me like the pot calling the kettle black!'

The older woman narrowed her eyes. 'I certainly wasn't as fortunate as you,' she said with acid in her voice. 'I was desperate for a roof over my head, and I had to sell my only warm coat just to get the advance rent. Until I got a job I was living on bread and marge, I didn't even have a s.h.i.+lling for the gas. But I don't suppose you can possibly imagine that kind of hards.h.i.+p.'

Fifi was stung by the implication that she was a spoiled little rich girl who swam through life without a thought for those less fortunate. But she had come up against this kind of prejudice before and knew the only way to handle it was to carry on, and hope that by showing interest in the other person she would prove herself to be sensitive and caring.

'It's hard to believe you've ever had hard times. I mean, you've got such a good job, you're so well dressed.' She paused, not knowing quite what else to say. 'And you're a real lady.'

'I was brought up to be one, certainly. Just as you were, Fifi. But I made the mistake of falling for the wrong man and it nearly destroyed me.'

Fifi's inherent curiosity reared up at that statement. In four months she'd made absolutely no headway in finding out anything about this woman, and even though that hadn't been her aim today, she wasn't going to let an opportunity like this slip away. She sat down on the top of the stairs. 'Tell me about it?' she asked.

Miss Diamond bent down again, carrying on with her sweeping. 'It's not something I like to talk about or even think about,' she said crisply. 'Let's just say he was a complete bounder.'

'Really?' Fifi was intrigued. 'Do tell me about him, Miss Diamond. If you don't I'll be wondering about it all day.'

The woman looked up again, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips. 'You can be such a child, Fifi,' she exclaimed. 'So curious about everything. Me, what went on over the road. Anything and anybody. My aunt used to say, "Curiosity killed the cat".'

'Mum used to say that all the time,' Fifi chuckled. 'But being interested in other people isn't such a bad thing, is it? Not if it helps to understand them.'

'Perhaps. I suppose we are are the end product of what has happened to us,' Miss Diamond replied thoughtfully. 'I was once warm, trusting and full of fun. If I'd married a decent man I might have stayed that way instead of turning into a humourless Tartar.' the end product of what has happened to us,' Miss Diamond replied thoughtfully. 'I was once warm, trusting and full of fun. If I'd married a decent man I might have stayed that way instead of turning into a humourless Tartar.'

'You aren't a Tartar,' Fifi insisted, even though that name summed the woman up remarkably well. 'You were very kind to me after I lost my baby.'

'That was because I knew how you felt. I lost a baby myself after my husband ran out on me.'

Fifi saw the hurt in Miss Diamond's dark eyes and guessed this was something she wasn't in the habit of divulging.

'You poor thing,' Fifi exclaimed. 'I'm so sorry. No wonder you call him a bounder, though I'd be calling him something much worse than that.'

'I've called him all sorts over the years, but I've learned to live with what he did to me by blaming myself for being so headstrong. A great many people warned me about him, but I refused to listen.'

'I can't imagine you being fooled by anyone,' Fifi said. 'You seem so sure of yourself.'

'I am now,' Miss Diamond smiled wryly. 'But when I was your age, my heart ruled my head, just like yours does.'

Fifi thought there was a warning in that confidence. 'You don't think Dan's like your husband, do you?'

'Of course not,' Miss Diamond said quickly. 'He's a good man, with many very fine qualities. But I suspect that your family aren't enamoured with him?'

Fifi nodded sadly. 'And I don't think my mum is ever going to come round about him,' she said dolefully. 'But then Dan's being so funny with me, I shouldn't be surprised if we split up.'

'Oh dear.' Miss Diamond frowned. 'I'm sorry to hear that, Fifi. You seemed so close last time I came up and had a coffee with you.'

'Everything was fine till Angela was killed,' Fifi explained. 'But he seems to be cross with me all the time now.'

The older woman looked hard at Fifi. 'Is that because you keep talking about the murder and the Muckles?'

'I suppose so,' Fifi admitted somewhat reluctantly.

'Then I can't say I blame him for being cross. If I were Dan I'd find your morbid fascination with the lower cla.s.ses quite offensive.'

Fifi looked at her neighbour in puzzlement. 'Whatever do you mean?'

'I've watched you, Fifi,' Miss Diamond said crisply. 'You try to prove to everyone in this street that you are one of them. Though why you should want to be considered on a level with such riff-raff I can't imagine!'

'Don't call them that! You sound like my mother,' Fifi exclaimed.

'Of course! That's what's behind it, isn't it?' her neighbour said almost triumphantly. 'Your mother doesn't approve of Dan, so you've gone all out to try and join the other side.'

'I don't know what you mean,' Fifi said indignantly. 'I haven't tried to join anything. I believe in being nice to people. Just because they are poor doesn't mean they are worth less than other people.'

'I don't take exception to anyone just for being poor,' Miss Diamond said firmly. 'But let me tell you that most of the people in this street have as much money coming in as you or I do. They just can't manage it. You see them going down to the fish-and-chip shop night after night. If they cooked at home they'd save pounds every week. If they didn't drink so much they could afford to buy their children's clothes outright, instead of getting those Provident cheques which they never finish paying off. They wouldn't need to p.a.w.n things every week either. Oh, I could go on and on, but I think I've made my point.'

'You certainly have, you're a cras.h.i.+ng sn.o.b,' Fifi exclaimed. 'Maybe some of the people around here are a bit f.e.c.kless and disorganized, but life shouldn't be just about being careful with your money, it's for living. I don't see you having much fun, for all you've got a nice flat and a good job.'

The older woman shrugged. 'Fun, if that means going to the pub and getting blazing drunk, isn't something I'd want to do. But believe me, Fifi, these people around here will never enhance your life, they'll laugh at you behind your back, suck you dry and drag you down with them.'

'That's rubbish,' Fifi insisted.

'It's not.' Miss Diamond shook her head. 'It's just a fact of life. They resent you for being educated and beautiful, for all the good things in you that they sense lacking in themselves. They resent you even more now because you had the courage to go into that house and find Angela.'

'That's not true.' Fifi began to cry.

'Of course it's true! Wise up, girl. They feel guilty because they know they should've done something years ago. Of course they'll tell you it's their code of never informing on anyone, but that's just hot air. The truth is almost certainly that most of the people in this street have something to hide themselves, so they wouldn't dare speak out against a neighbour for fear of it coming out.'

'So I can't win then?' Fifi said through her tears. 'I've been cast out by my own family for marrying a working-cla.s.s man, but I'm not welcome with his sort either! So what am I supposed to do?'

'From what I've gathered, Dan has no allegiance to anyone but you. So get away from here. Make friends with intelligent, free-thinking people. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, and most of all stop dwelling on what went on across the road. You'll lose Dan if you don't.'

With that Miss Diamond turned and swept off down the stairs, leaving Fifi completely astounded.

Nora Diamond felt shaky after her words with her neighbour, and instead of finis.h.i.+ng the stairs, then moving on to clean the bathroom as she'd intended, she went into her kitchen and got out her bottle of sherry. She didn't approve of drinking during the day, but Fifi had rattled her, and a small gla.s.s of sherry and a cigarette would calm her down.

She hadn't meant to be so harsh with the girl, but that remark of hers, 'You must have seen people coming and going over there', had cut right through her, making her defensive. She knew all too well she should go to the police and give them the name of the man she had recognized going into number 11 on several occasions. But how could she? They would ask how she knew him and she couldn't tell them that. Besides, she hadn't seen any of the card players on the night of the last game. Why should she put herself in jeopardy for something which might not even help the investigation?

The sweet sherry calmed her, but she still felt ashamed of how she'd spoken to Fifi. She was a sweet girl and it was clear she was deeply troubled by what she'd witnessed over the road. But Nora couldn't help her, she had her own troubles, and unlike Fifi she didn't have a man to protect her.

Later that morning as Fifi tidied up the living room, she found herself blus.h.i.+ng with shame at everything Miss Diamond had said to her.