Coffin’s Ghost. Gwendoline Butler

I suppose we are being interviewed?’

      Mary nodded. ‘Bound to be. Especially you, you found the bundles.’

      ‘I’ve already told them about that.’

      The police noises about the house were becoming quieter; Mary sensed that they would be leaving. And others coming.

      ‘We’ve all answered a few questions. It’s just a beginning. We will have to go through it again, and perhaps again.’

      ‘Even if we don’t know anything?’

      ‘They have to be convinced of that.’

      ‘You seem to know a lot about it.’

      Yes, thought Mary. I once went to bed with a policeman. In fact, quite often. It lasted about six months. I learnt a lot.

      I learnt that you could lie to him, and get away with it, or thought you had, but somehow in the end, and sometimes not too much later, you found the truth came out.

      Not that I ever had much to lie about, she added to herself. If I did it at all it was in self-protection because otherwise I would have gone up in smoke.

      A uniformed sergeant appeared at the door. ‘Just off. Miss Arden. Anyway for the moment, but there is a constable on the door and the forensic team would like to come in, if that’s all right?’

      Mary nodded assent.

      ‘Try saying no,’ growled Evelyn as he left.

      ‘You go home. If you are wanted, I’ll telephone you. Don’t go out to eat a quick curry with Peter though, just in case.’

      Evelyn swung her shoulder bag on. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it. Peter doesn’t eat curry. But I’d like to get back. Miss Pinero has two new contacts who might be putting together a show: Freedom and Gilchrist, sound like a stand-up comedy team, don’t they? And they have this driver and handyman who aids and assists. All means business, which as you know has not been brisk lately. But you can always trust Miss Pinero to bring it in, I say.’ Having said this, at the door, she turned. ‘Look after yourself, and do ring me if there is anything I can do.’

      ‘Miriam and Ally will be quiet now, they like each other, you only quarrel like that with friends. I’m on their side, or I wouldn’t be here. But they don’t like to feel I am kind of a social doctor treating a disease, so in a way they feel better when I lose my temper. It puts us on a level.’ She added: ‘You have to be a bit tough sometimes, of course.’

      ‘Yes, sure,’ said Evelyn. With a wave, she was gone.

      After the front door banged behind Evelyn, and she heard her speaking to the constable outside, Mary tidied up the coffee pot and cups, then went up the stairs to see Miriam and Ally.

      She passed one of the other occupants on the way up. ‘Everything all right, Fanny?’

      ‘Fine, Mary. I’m just off to get my prescription from Dr Meener. The police girl said it was all right.’

      ‘You do that then.’

      Fanny nodded towards the sitting room door. ‘They all right, then?’

      ‘I think so.’

      ‘Do they know who it is outside? Whose bits, I mean?’

      Mary said. No, not as far as she knew.

      ‘I just wondered …’ Then Fanny stopped. Mary waited. ‘Just wondered if it was that foreign girl who helped here for a bit.’

      Mary said in a careful way: ‘I think she went home.’

      ‘Only I saw her around in Poland Street.’

      Poland Street was close, very close to Drossers Lane Market. In fact, Drossers Lane Market was virtually in Poland Street.

      ‘The other day … She did put it about a bit.’

      ‘You’d better tell the police when they ask questions. If you think it’s important.’

      ‘Might be, mightn’t it?’ and Fanny took herself down the stairs and out the front door.

      Mary made her way to the communal sitting room where Ally and Miriam were sitting companionably side by side, smoking and watching TV. The boy, watching too, no longer looked evil, but just like any unsettled child who had seen too much of life for his age.

      Someone, Miriam probably, had made the room tidy, picking up the knocked-over furniture and restoring the cushions to the sofa. Someone else, again probably Miriam, had made a pot of tea and yet another person, and this time probably the boy, had managed to get a bag of chips which they were now passing from hand to hand in a peaceful and friendly fashion.

      They had been joined by one of the new arrivals, Betty, who had come in last night and was still nervous. She seemed to have been welcomed into the group and was certainly getting tea and a sympathetic chip.

      ‘You shouldn’t be eating chips, Miriam,’ Mary reminded her. ‘You know what the doctor said.’

      No one bothered to answer this comment, although Betty looked even more nervous.

      And who could blame her, Mary thought. What a welcome to the Serena.

      The chip bag was waved in her direction, and absently she took one. The vinegar and salt were harsh and strong but somehow it was tasty. The programme they were watching didn’t look bad either.

      At this point, Billy slipped off the sofa and, ignoring his mother’s request to sit still and stop being a regular nuisance, went to the window.

      ‘There’s men out there in white suits like ghosts,’ he announced loudly.

      ‘Scientists, forensic ones,’ growled his mother. ‘Seen on the telly.’

      Mary went to the window to look. Three men in hooded white cotton outfits were on their knees.

      ‘What are they doing round the side of the house?’ demanded Billy acutely. ‘The bits were found on the steps.’

      Mary had been wondering this herself. ‘They have to study the ground all around.’

      A sudden burst of laughter from the sofa drew the boy back to the television screen, muttering that it was a waste of time out there.

      Mary, who had been thinking this herself, moved away from the window and towards the door.

      As she touched the handle, Miriam said, over her shoulder and not looking at Mary, not taking her eyes off the television screen: “They found a handbag there, round the side of the house.’

      Mary swung round, walked over and deliberately planted her body between them and the television screen. Impolite, pushy, irritating, but essential, as experience had taught her.

      ‘Where’d you get that from?’

      Miriam gave a little nod of her head sideways. ‘Betty told me.’

      Mary looked at Betty, who shifted her shoulders uneasily – alarm came promptly to her.

      I must be gentle, Mary reacted at once, I am not always gentle enough here.

      No, perhaps gentleness isn’t right. What is needed is to give to each what they need, and that is harder, because you have to be intelligent and responsive.

      Words, she said to herself sadly, you use too many words, girl. ‘Where did you learn that, Betty?’

      Betty looked down and fidgeted again. ‘The copper told me,’ she whispered.

      ‘The one on duty outside?’ said Mary doubtfully. It didn’t sound likely.

      ‘I was at school with him,’ Betty whispered. ‘We lived next door. My brother was his best mate.’

      ‘Right …’ Mary hesitated, wondering whether to say anything. ‘Perhaps he didn’t mean you to tell anyone else.’

      Betty