Alexander (11)

11

At five am, Alexander made his way to the pick-up point. Terry didn't appear. The second and third vans that arrived overlooked Alexander. By six o’clock four men were left on the car park, awaiting the arrival of the last van. Alexander decided he couldn't wait any longer and drifted towards town.

He spent the morning in the small library, situated in the municipal building, sitting at a table reading a book detailing the history of Brook Manor. And when Alexander asked if he could loan the book, the library assistant informed him that it was part of a special collection that was for reference only. ‘I said the same to a young lady who wished to take out the book only recently. I don't think this book has been touched for years and suddenly it seems to be popular again’ he said jovially. Alexander questioned him: what did the girl look like ? Who was she with ?

Once he was satisfied that the girl was none other than the pretty assistant in the cafe he ran out of the building and across the road in the hope that she would be working. But he was disappointed. Another girl was behind the counter. ‘Where is the girl who’s usually here ?’ he asked ‘...the slim brown girl with frizzy hair.’ The waitress said: ‘You mean Alicia ? She’s not employed anymore. Alicia’s gone.’

-*-

Alexander had to decide what he was going to do with the six photographs that Luther had left. The most obvious thing would be to hand them to the police. Yet, the thought of doing so scared him. Luther’s fingerprints were all over them. What's more, if Marek's story was true, Luther's killing had been carried out for a reason. Forging a direct link to his former work colleague might place Alexander in danger.

That evening Alexander went, as usual, to collect the key. Luther’s room was still barred from entry. But he needed to look inside. On the back of the envelope containing the six photos was a single line that read: More in house. More what ? More photos ? Had Luther, knowing that the police would search his room, hidden more incriminating evidence against the Brook family ? And which house did he mean ?

Alexander knocked on Padgett's door, heard groaning and muttering. After a while the door opened and, anticipating Alexander’s request, Padgett held out the key for the empty room in the house five doors away. ‘This’ll probably be the last night you can stay there’ he said. Alexander nodded and took the key. ‘I need to look in Luther's room’ he said. Padgett hesitated. ‘I told you - the police took everything.’

‘I know, but there's a chance he left something for me – something hidden that the police missed.’

Padgett frowned. ‘Look, man, no-one can enter. The old bill warned me...’

‘But they don’t know that you keep a set of keys. Even the lettings manager doesn’t know. Just give me five minutes. I promise I’ll leave everything as it is.’

Alexander pulled out another ten pound note from his pocket and offered it to Padgett. Luther’s neighbor snatched the note from Alexander’s hand. ‘Ok’ he said. ‘Five minutes.’

Once inside, Alexander saw the police’s unsubtle handywork. The bed had been dismantled, the mattress split open. Alexander went to the corner of the room nearest the window, lifted the musty, stained carpet, but found nothing. He felt along the seams of the curtains, ran his hand from one end of the dusty curtain rail to the other. He moved the bed and wardrobe and checked underneath - nothing.

Alexander returned the key to Luther’s room. Before he left, he said to Padgett: ‘Tell me - did Luther have a key to the house where I’m staying ?’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘But it’s possible that he had one cut and didn’t tell you ?’

Padgett’s face hardened at the thought. ‘I’m the only one who’s supposed to keep keys. But yeah, I suppose. Luther was a nosey bugger. Probably got one cut to see if he could fleece a few things for himself.’

Alexander hurried to the empty house along the road. He searched each room, checked inside the toilet cistern, looked in the empty kitchen cupboards, lifted the loft board and shone his torch in the musty void. He went out into the garden hunting for anything that might be a depository…for what ? More notes ? A warning ? Alexander was unsure.

He returned to the living room and unfurled his sleeping bag. Then, as he paced from one end of the living room to the other, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath his feet, a thought came: he’d searched above, but what about beneath ? Sure enough, a corner board was loose. He pulled until he was able to grip it with his left hand, then began to strain as he knelt and explored deep between the joists with his right hand. It didn’t take long before Alexander reaped his reward.

He found a thick padded envelope and tore it open. Inside were five military medals. There was also a photograph of a girl. On the back was written 'Rikki - my daughter.' There were scribbled notes and drawings of Brook Manor on two small pieces of paper - instructions that showed how to enter the cellar from the stairwell. There was also an address - Rikki’s address. Alexander checked below the floorboards for a second time: this time he discovered a supermarket bag containing chisels, a screwdriver, a length of rope.

Alexander folded the notes and placed them back in the envelope. He held the medals in his hand and stared at the face of Luther's daughter. Why had Luther left these things for him ? What did he expect Alexander to do with them ? It was a puzzle and all roads lead to Brook manor.