Treasure in Oxford by David Williams

Author:David Williams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-12-20T12:31:37+00:00

Chapter Twelve

‘I really ought to go to Megan now. Tonight,’ said Val Midden uncertainly.

That the proposition lacked total determination owed more to her situation than any weakness in the resolve. She was now fully awake, but distraught, and sitting up in the double bed, her face tear-stained, her head haloed in blue plastic hair rollers.

‘No point in that,’ replied her husband — gently for him. He was in the act of removing his trousers. ‘They wouldn’t let you in to see her anyway.’ He had been making an effort to be a comfort since waking his wife at one o’clock with the bad news. He had even made her a cup of tea to lessen the shock.

‘But she isn’t arrested. You said that.’

‘May have been by now. Either way they won’t let anyone near her.’ He had no true knowledge of what happened in such circumstances, but he was firmly against an immediate expedition from St John Street to the police station in St Aldate’s, because it would inevitably have to involve him. ‘She’s done murder,’ he said. ‘Of your own brother. Half-brother.’ He had been astonished at how little his wife had been moved by Ernie’s death, and how concerned she was for Megan Rees.

Mrs Midden shook her head. ‘I’ve told you, it’s not true. Can’t be. She wouldn’t hurt a fly, that girl.’

‘What makes you so sure?’ He buttoned the front of his pyjama top.

‘I know, that’s all. She’s been used. One bad influence after another. And Ernie wasn’t much different from the others, not really.’ One hand went guiltily to her mouth. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t have said that. Speaking ill of the dead. Poor Ernie. Expect he meant well, according to his lights.’ She gulped back a sob. ‘Oh dear, what shall we do about Megan?’

‘I know what I’m doing, I’m going to sleep. And you should too.’ There was a limit to patient understanding, and he had another heavy day ahead of him. Standing before the dressing-table mirror, he slowly brushed the few long, carefully nurtured side hairs across his otherwise bald scalp — always his last act before turning in. He’d been told that brushing stimulated the roots, especially prior to lying down.

‘She talked to me, you know, Arthur? Plenty of times. When I was round there. About things that happened to her before. Terrible things, some of them. Men treated her like dirt. Took advantage.’

‘You know she was on drugs?’ he asked as he got into bed. ‘Who said?’

‘That Police Inspector. Nice bloke. He had a drink off me. In my pantry. He’d come looking for Mr Treasure. The duty porter put him on to me first. The police’ll want to talk to you tomorrow, most likely.’

‘Why?’

‘Ernie’s only living relative. The Inspector didn’t know that till I told him. The girl hadn’t said.’

‘Too flustered, I expect, poor soul. Well I can’t tell the police anything. Ernie and me weren’t close. You know that well enough.’

‘They’ll still want to see you, I should think. Anyway, I said we’d help if we could.

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