Nicola Barker - Darkmans

Kelly grimaced. ‘Where are ya, Harve?’

‘Where? Uh…I’m on Mill Bank Road, as it happens, on my way to see a client.’

‘What for?’

‘To wring his scrawny neck , darl, for tryin’ ta cancel on a job.’

‘Then stop right there, Harve,’ Kelly instructed him. ‘This is important , yeah? Pull over. Stay exactly where you are, d’ya hear me? I’m signin’ myself out, mate…’ she indicated, impatiently, to Gaffar ‘…and then I’m comin’ to save ya.’

‘I’m rushed off my feet, Win,’ he grouched, yanking on the handbrake and cutting out the engine. ‘Can’t I call you back later?’

‘My head’s completely fucked , Kane,’ Winifred whined. ‘I barely even slept. I really need to get stoned…’

Kane inspected his watch. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet.

‘Where are you?’ he asked.

‘London.’

‘ London? ’ Kane frowned. ‘So why the hell ring me , then?’

‘Because I’ve got some bad news for Kelly and I needed some advice on how to break it to her. I’m still at the bloody library …’

‘What?’

Kane grabbed his cigarettes from his pocket, tapped one out and flipped it into his mouth. He peered anxiously through the window. He was parked at the end of an exclusive cul-de-sac facing a luxury, detached town house in well-tended grounds.

‘Andrew Board. The infamous doctor . There’s a strong possibility that he isn’t related to her…’

‘What?’

‘I know. I know . I mean she was so excited about the whole thing.’ ‘Back up a minute…’

Kane was searching for some matches, but instead he found a lighter. He removed it from his pocket and stared down at it, blankly. Then he blinked–

How the hell’d that get there?

It was the red lighter — the Ronson — which he’d handed over in the restaurant, several days before. But it was different. It felt different, lying there, in his hand.

‘So she forgave you too, huh?’ Winnie mused.

‘Who did?’

Kane was totally confused. ‘Kelly. Kelly Broad . Your girlfriend, remember?’

‘ Ex -girlfriend.’ Kane lit his cigarette. ‘In fact I’m currently up to my ears in the funeral arrangements for her brother…’

‘Right now?’

‘No. Not right now. Right now I’m going to see a client…’

‘Well let them wait. This is important. Because what I really need to know,’ Winifred continued, ‘is whether it’s better to tell her or not. I mean the probability of her finding out any other way is minute, and I only came across it in a secondary text…’

‘Stop…’

Kane closed his eyes. ‘Just go back to the beginning. I’m all at sea here. Kelly isn’t whose relative?’

Winifred drew a deep breath. ‘Dr Andrew Board. The physician. Henry’s physician. The bloke who wrote the book about the Jester …’

Winifred paused. ‘Although he wasn’t actually the king’s physician and he probably didn’t write the book either , if it comes to that…’ ‘So you mean…’ Kane scowled ‘…you mean the guy who wrote the book which you photocopied for Beede?’

‘Yes!’ Winifred all but exploded.

‘I saw Kelly had it when I visited her the other day…’ Kane muttered, ‘which I thought at the time was rather strange…’

‘She delivered it for me, as a favour,’ Winnie butted in, impatiently. ‘But beyond that…’

‘And she thought she was related ?’

‘ Duh! ’

‘But on what evidence, exactly?’

‘Because her father or her uncle or someone was always going on about how they had this famous relative who was once a physician to royalty. They claimed he wrote a book about building practices in the sixteenth century but she’d thought it was all just bullshit…’

‘She never mentioned this before,’ Kane said, glancing over towards the house.

‘Why would she?’

‘Why wouldn’t she?’

‘I’ve been up all night, Kane…’ Winifred groaned, ‘and I’m feeling really weird. My head’s buzzing. My heart’s racing. It’s almost like I’m…’

‘Too many espressos,’ Kane interrupted, breezily.

‘You can’t take drinks into the Rare Books section,’ she snapped. ‘It’s against the rules.’

‘The rules ?!’ Kane scoffed. ‘Since when did Winifred Shilling submit to the rules ?!’

‘Grow up,’ Winifred snarled.

‘Hang on a minute…’ Kane’s spine suddenly straightened, ‘I forgive you,’ he grinned. ‘Of course she did. I got a text — late last night…’ ‘She forgave everybody, you moron. She found God . Where’ve you been? Her dead brother sat up and said “bollocks” and she thought it was a sign …’

‘Her dead brother? Paul? Paul came back to life again?’ Kane was astonished.

‘No, stupid. Before he died. He sat up. He swore. And some lunatic old Reverend — I mean I’m filling in the gaps here — had some kind of a vision which predicted that he would…’

‘Fuck off, Win.’

Kane’s grin was starting to slip a little.

‘I’m serious. Ring her. Ask her.’

‘Fuck off , Win,’ he repeated.

‘I’m serious .’

She sounded serious.

‘Let’s just cut to the quick here, shall we?’ (Kane suddenly felt rather irritated by the whole thing.) ‘What is it that you really want?’ ‘I already said what I really want. I want your advice , you idiot .’

‘My advice?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well my advice — for what it’s worth — is to leave well alone.’

‘That’s always your advice,’ Win said tightly. ‘And that advice — for your information — is a piece of crap.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Pleasure.’

Pause

‘This is where you hang up,’ Kane informed her, inspecting his watch again, ‘and I run off to meet my client.’

‘You’re right…’

‘Although…’ he frowned, ‘one quick question…’

‘Fire away.’

‘First my dad, then my ex-girlfriend…Might there be some strange kind of pattern developing here?’

Winnie chuckled, dryly. ‘You’re barking up the wrong tree.’

‘Am I?’

‘Oh yeah. Completely.’

‘Well if I am, then would you kindly tell me how the hell you happen to fit into all of this?’

‘ I fit, you fit, we all fit,’ Winnie snapped. ‘That’s the whole f-ing point .’

‘Nope. I’m still not…’

‘She forgave me , too,’ Winifred interrupted. ‘I got this text late last night…’

‘How’d she get your number?’ (Kane wasn’t buying it.)

‘From the bloody photo copy. Same as you.’

‘Oh.’

‘And it pissed me off, quite frankly. She’d been holding me responsible for her brother’s stupid glue habit. You know how I loathe glue…’

Kane slowly scratched his chin.

‘So you’re serious?’ he said.

‘Deadly.’

‘This isn’t some ornate wind-up?’

‘Bloody hell !’ Winifred expostulated. ‘You actually think I’m capable of inventing this stuff?’

‘In your sleep, Win. On your head .’

‘Fine. Whatever. Think what you will. I don’t care.’

As she spoke, a large, green Rover pulled up behind The Blonde and parked. Kane glanced at it, fleetingly, in his rearview mirror.