A Dark Coffin

‘No, but he let me know I might just inflame them down there if they saw me and certainly get the media.’ Which in turn would have its own inflaming effect, probably. ‘They have got a camera going. So we shall see who’s there.’

‘You mean Harry’s brother?’

‘Do I?’ said Coffin blandly. ‘Harry, how’s things?’

Harry Trent sat down, he looked more cheerful. ‘Lou’s all right. She sort of gave me her blessing on coming here. She’s blamed me more than a bit for what Merry is, also she had her own advice as it happens, she thought I ought to look up the Macintoshes.’

‘Will you? You can put up with us if you like?’ Coffin looked at his wife, who still owned an apartment in St Luke’s, used it as an office, but did not sleep there.

‘Sure.’ Stella smiled. ‘You can have my flat for the night or so … I’ll let you have the key. Walk round with us and I will show you the place.’

‘I’d like to, thanks.’ He gave Stella an appreciative look. ‘Lou says I’m housetrained.’

‘You can call round on the Macintoshes.’

‘I have tried. The house is still there but no one answered the bell. It’s all changed round there.’

‘I expect they were out selling hot dogs.’

‘I’m surprised they are still at it.’

‘Come to the theatre tomorrow with us, they will be outside.’ Stella had decided she liked the man.

‘I’d like that … Have a drink with me first, here … No, come to the flat, your flat, I’ll do some shopping and we can have a drink and some sandwiches.’ He did not add ‘in the quiet’, but might have meant it, because Max’s was hotting up with some younger members of the theatre staff, laughing and talking.

Max never minded, he encouraged voices and laughter, but it had to cease before midnight.

At home, Stella and Coffin prepared for bed in companionable silence. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Stella’s shape in a soft apricot satin nightgown and enjoyed it. But he said nothing.

‘Well?’ said Stella. ‘What are you thinking?’

‘Partly about you.’

‘And partly about Harry Trent? Don’t you like him? I wondered.’

‘We were very close at one time; he nearly got me killed.’

‘That doesn’t seem a reason for closeness.’

‘Oh well, I nearly got him killed too, we were in it together … too close to a pair of villains with guns. And unprepared. As much my fault as his. More really, since I was the senior by a long way.’

‘So, what’s the trouble?’

Coffin was silent, he sat on the edge of the bed. ‘What did you make of him?’

‘I liked him. Why?’

‘I’m not sure if I believe his story … I never heard about the twin before. I suppose there is one.’

‘What an extraordinary thing to say.’

‘Might be an excuse.’

‘What for?’

‘I don’t know. Excuses are always useful.’ Good excuse for a lot of things if you can bring it off.

While they were talking, the watchman who walked through the theatre slowly, carefully at night, checking for intruders, came into the auditorium. By the low security light which was always on, he could see it was empty.

He paced on round. No one.

He stood still for a moment and looked around. Still no one.

He walked on, looking at intervals.

Why did he have this feeling that someone was about?

In the shadows, a dark figure flitted away.

Evenings when a new show opened were always a cause for celebration at the St Luke’s Theatre. Each new production was a rebirth.

This particular evening was no different, Stella was happy and excited, she always was, while her husband went with her because he enjoyed her company and had to admit that he liked the theatre. Stella had said to him once that he was a closet tragedian, but he had settled for being a lost comedian which seemed more desirable for a policeman somehow.

Especially for a policeman who had the riot police out two nights running. Last night, thank God, had been quieter, and if Harry’s brother had been around, he had not been noticed. But Coffin now had his address in Swinehouse, knew where he was staying, or a man who fitted the description, although not why, and the owners of the house had received a quiet warning from Sergeant Fraser who claimed to know them well. Coffin was now debating whether to tell Harry or not.

They had met Harry for drinks first. As promised, he had done some shopping so that he could offer them a good white wine, as well as smoked salmon sandwiches. All courtesy of Max.

‘What’s the day been like?’

‘Bearable, just about.’ Coffin sounded weary, so that Stella gave him a sharp look but said nothing. ‘You helped us there in identifying your brother.’ He saw Harry wince. ‘It’s all right, he wasn’t arrested, in fact, he hasn’t been back to where he was lodging, he may have cleared out.’ Harry did not look relieved but Coffin went on: ‘So, not too bad a day.’ The streets were quiet but not peaceful, there would be trouble again if the child died and the news of her condition was not good.

‘I had a look round, wondering if I could find Merry. Didn’t.’ He looked at Coffin.

‘I can give you his address in Swinehouse,’ said Coffin slowly. ‘Or where he was. An old seamen’s lodging house. Or it was when the river had seamen on it, now anyone can live in it. Mother Arbatt’s, is the local name, two, Shambles Passage … there used to be an abattoir in the passage when cattle came in live from Canada … long gone, of course, but locals say you can smell it on a hot day. Not sure if you would be wise to call, not one of the best houses in the world.’

‘It wouldn’t be if they let Merry live in it.’

‘He’s been living there for some weeks.’ Registered, anyway, but not seen much. A popper-in, you might say, rather than a continual inhabitant.

‘I’ll go tomorrow.’

Coffin nodded, watching Stella quietly mopping up the mess where the wine had dribbled on to a good table. It was her table, after all. ‘Up to you.’

‘I told you I went to see the Macintoshes yesterday. Found the house, all changed of course, with flats on either side.’ Must be a valuable site, he had thought, but the house looked run down. ‘They weren’t there. Out with the van, I suppose. I saw where they parked it. I tried to track it down but couldn’t find it … but I may see them tonight. They are going to be at the theatre.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Max told me … I was talking to him when I bought the wine … Said someone had made them a present of some tickets and they were going.’