Simon Green - The Dark Side of the Road

Sylvia finally gave up. ‘Honestly, darling! Here I am, treating you to my very best gossip, and you’re miles away! Whatever is the matter, dear?’

‘My son is dead,’ said Diana. ‘My only child. I never wanted another, until it was far too late.’ She smiled sadly at Sylvia. ‘And so I make do, with my dear young companions. My substitute children. Don’t get too attached to me, dear. I’m a terrible mother.’

And all this time Walter sat alone at the head of his table, lord of all he surveyed; saying nothing, looking at no one. Except, perhaps, at his great family hall. Such a large room, with so few present to enjoy it. Walter was the end of his family history, and he knew it. He had grown old, in an old house. And soon, he wouldn’t even have that. Because he had done well, but not well enough. It’s a hard thing, to know that soon you will have no choice but to sell your family inheritance, for a few last years of comfort.

And then all the conversation broke off abruptly, and everyone looked around as the door slammed open and in came Cook, pushing a large and heavily-laden trolley ahead of her. There was a sudden marvellous smell of hot food, and everyone perked up. Jeeves followed Cook in.

‘Ah, Mrs Bridges!’ said Walter loudly. ‘Dinner, at last!’

‘You’re lucky to have it!’ snapped Cook. A small fierce blonde woman in her late twenties, in a stylized Victorian cook’s outfit, she scowled around the dining table, sparing no one. Her hair was short and spiky, her face red with sweat and exertion, and her gaze was full of an uncomplicated fury. She slammed to a halt, leaning on her trolley while she got her breath back, and looked very much like she would enjoy spitting in the food. Right in front of us.

‘Here’s your dinner!’ she said loudly. ‘On time! And it’s Ms Bridges, thank you very much. Leilah Bridges, and don’t you forget it! I have produced this entire dinner on my own, without any staff or support, under conditions I wouldn’t wish on a deceased dog! That nasty old shit-hole downstairs is the most old-fashioned and inefficient kitchen I have ever had the misfortune to work in. And I’ve been around!’

‘It’s true,’ murmured Jeeves. ‘She has.’

‘So here’s your dinner!’ said Cook. ‘Eat it while it’s hot! I’ll serve the soup, and then I’m out of here. You can help yourselves to the other courses from the trolley, because I’m not coming back. And yes, there is afters. Plum duff, on the bottom shelf. Hope you like your custard thick and lumpy, because that’s how I like it, so that’s how I make it. All right?’

No one dared answer. Cook prowled round the table, shoving the trolley in front of her with sudden bursts of ill-tempered strength, ladling generous amounts of soup into bowls and then slamming them down in front of people, most of whom were wise enough to just sit well back in their chairs and let her get on with it. Khan made the mistake of asking what kind of soup it was, and she slammed the bowl down in front of him so hard, the contents actually jumped up into the air for a moment.

Cook fixed Khan with an openly mutinous glare. ‘Can’t you smell it? That is Mulligatawny! Beef curry soup! Get it down you; it’s good for what ails you. Don’t poke at it like that! It’s supposed to have bits in it!’

She finished her rounds, abandoned the trolley and headed straight for the open door. She paused there, to glare back at us one last time. ‘I could have been at home with my family, safe and sound and stuffed full of good food, but no! I am trapped here in this decrepit old dump, with a murderer lurking in the shadows, and all hell breaking loose outside. I’m only here because I was tempted by the money. I should be getting a bonus! I should be getting danger money! Right; I am out of here. I am going straight back to my kitchen, where I want everyone to know I have a really big cleaver and a complete willingness to use it!’

‘It’s true,’ said Jeeves. ‘She has.’

‘Hold everything,’ I said.

All eyes turned to me. To my surprise, Cook calmed down immediately and studied me with cool, thoughtful eyes.

I nodded at the soup in front of me. ‘It looks fine,’ I said. ‘And it smells delicious. But given that one of us has already been murdered, almost certainly after being drugged … I can’t help wondering how much we can trust whatever is put in front of us.’

Everyone looked at their soup.

I smiled at Cook. ‘No offence to you, Ms Bridges, but anyone could have sneaked down to your kitchen and … interfered with the food. So I have to wonder; do we need a food taster?’

Jeeves moved in beside me, took up my soup spoon, stirred the soup thoroughly, and then raised a spoonful to his mouth. He knocked it back, without a single emotion crossing his face, licked his lips, and then dropped my spoon back into the bowl.

‘Delicious,’ he said.

I picked up the spoon, polished it carefully with my napkin, and then smiled around the table. ‘Well,’ I said. ‘Good enough for me! Bon appetit, everyone.’

Cook said, ‘ Hah! ’ in a loud and carrying voice, and stomped away. Jeeves went after her, shutting the door quietly but firmly behind them.

‘So,’ said Penny. ‘That’s Cook … Where on earth did you find her, Daddy?’

‘Same place that gave us Jeeves,’ said Walter. ‘Apparently they come as a package … Does anyone want me to say grace?’

He looked hopefully down the table, but he’d left it too late. We’d all had a long hard day, and we were all of us extremely hungry. In fact, most of us had started the soup before he’d finished his first sentence. Nothing stimulates the appetite like an unexpected proximity to death. So we all tucked in. The food was excellent, and everyone gave it their full attention. But even the best food couldn’t stop these people from talking for long; not when they all had so much they wanted to say. After a little surreptitious prompting from Khan, Melanie started the ball rolling.

‘Walter!’

‘Yes, dear?’ he said immediately. ‘Have I forgotten something?’

‘I demand to know why you felt the need to bring an armed bodyguard into our house, masquerading as a butler!’

Walter looked at Khan, who just shrugged. Walter patted Melanie’s hand comfortingly. ‘Just being cautious, my dear. Alex drew my attention to some rather worrying hate mail, aimed at me and the company, so I decided we would all be a lot safer with a professional security expert on hand. I think you’ll all agree; Jeeves has proved a first-class butler …’

‘The Colonel is still dead,’ I said, and Walter had no reply to that. I looked at Khan. ‘So; Alex. As head of the company these days, you must have known about Jeeves all along?’

‘No,’ said Khan. ‘I didn’t. Walter didn’t see fit to inform me.’

He glared at Walter, who met his gaze unflinchingly. ‘I don’t have to tell you everything, Alex. I am still capable of making my own decisions.’

‘Is that why my James is dead?’ Diana said loudly. ‘Was he killed because of these threats to you and your damned company? Are you responsible for our son’s death?’

Walter looked at her, helplessly, and then looked at me. I nodded, took the envelope out of my pocket, removed the letter, and read out the contents to the whole company. And then I passed the letter down the table, so everyone could look at it for themselves. To see I wasn’t exaggerating. So I could look at them, looking at the Colonel’s last words. Because I felt the need to stir things up a little. They were all clearly intrigued by the letter’s contents, but they also seemed equally surprised and equally baffled. The letter went up the table and down the other side, and ended up with Roger, who didn’t want to give it up until he’d had his say. Penny cut him off with a hard look and kept on glaring at him until he reluctantly handed the letter back to me. I put it away again.