Pack Up! (Bring Out Your Dead series - Part 20)

Continued from Episode 19 - Ocean Drive

The story so far (you can read from the start at 'Board Stiff!'):  Josiah and Archibald, our two Undertakers, are on a mission to Spain to collect the mortal remains of Sir Lewisham Carnock.  Unsurprisingly, things have not gone to plan!  However, they now have their body (possibly!) and a way of getting it back to the U.K. (the ferry from Santander).  Chantelle and Archibald have gone to pack and lock up her villa, with D.I. Wood in hot pursuit, whilst D.S. Stone and his 'My Little Unicorn' binoculars are keeping an eye on Josiah.  Now read on:

Archibald trailed after Chantelle like the ponderous tail of a hyperactive comet, as she flitted from room to room collecting items en route.  In all honesty, he wasn’t really sure what he was achieving by being there, other than as the sounding board for Chantelle’s continuous commentary.

“Well, I won’t need that.  Oh, mustn’t forget my phone charger…or my tablet for that matter.  There must be a charger for that, somewhere, now where did I put it?  Passport, of course!  Then there’s clothing.  Is it cold back in England at the moment?”

Archibald, who had been staring out of the window, blankly, suddenly became aware that he had been asked a question.

“Sorry Miss Lace, what did you say?”

“It’s Chantelle, Archie, I thought we’d settled that?  I asked you if it was cold, back at home?”

“Well, it’s not as hot as it is here, of course.  You couldn’t run around in just your…well, just the things you’ve got on now” Archibald blushed, acutely aware of the lack of things that Chantelle had on, at the moment.

“Don’t you think I’m properly attired, Archie?” Chantelle oozed closer and stared deep into his eyes.

“Properly att…erm, I think you look brilliant, but it might get a bit nippy around the…around the…erm” Archibald’s powers of description failed him as his hands rotated in opposing circles and came, he realised, uncomfortably close to brushing the very parts of Chantelle that he feared might get cold.

“I’ll take your advice, Archie,” She chuckled, “and put something sensibly warm in my suitcase.  Come on, you can help me pack.  I’ve got everything laid out on my bed” She headed toward the bedroom, and then glanced over her shoulder, “would you like to be laid out on my bed, Archie?”  She asked, with a very visible wink.

“Oh, no, thanks a lot,” Archibald shook his head, firmly, “I’m not that tired, at the moment, Miss Lace, but don’t mind me, you have a kip if you want one”

******

D.I. Wood crouched on his haunches, desperately trying to remain hidden behind the limited cover of a small bush.  His knees screamed with the effort of remaining in this unusual, and distinctly uncomfortable, position for any length of time.  He had also had to limit his movements considerably, as he had recently nearly gone through a ‘form of marriage’ with an adjacent cactus.  By and large, he rather wished that he had sent D.S. Stone here and he had stayed back at the Police Station.  No amount of watching the delightful Chantelle wiggling from room would ever compensate for the loss of feeling in his legs and the cactus spines in his nether regions.

The main problem with his one-man stake-out was that it seemed pretty pointless, now that he was here.  He had rather hoped that Frankie Knight might put in an appearance, but all he could see, so far, were Chantelle and that gormless side-kick of Josiah Oakshott’s.  Between them, they seemed to have covered just about every room in the villa, which pretty much indicated that no-one else was at home.  Even Lurch would have noticed someone as large as life as Frankie lurking behind the sofa, even, he reflected bitterly, if he was trailing after Chantelle like a dog on heat.

Now they were both in, what he presumed was, the bedroom, and it seemed to him that they were getting rather too close for a couple of people who were hardly supposed to know each other.  That meant that he could add rampant jealousy to the list of his current grievances.

******

“I’ve been thinking, Archie.  When we’re on the ferry, perhaps you and I could…share a cabin?” Chantelle’s lips were about a fag paper away from his and the bountiful beauty of her body was pressed closely against him.

“Erm…gosh…well, that would be great, Miss Lace, but what about Mr. O?”

“What about him?”

“Well, don’t you think it could be a bit crowded, what with the three of us?  Mr. Oakshott, he’s very keen on getting a regular night’s sleep, you know?”

“I wasn’t thinking about Mr. Oakshott, Archie.”

“Well, I think you should” Archibald said, stoutly, “He needs his sleep as much as anyone.  And he’s been under a lot of stress just lately.”

Chantelle shook her head and went back to her packing.  She had never known simple seduction to be such hard work.

******

D.I. Wood's rental car attempted to round the corner, in Castelliano de la Ribera, on two wheels and very nearly didn't make it at all.  A few swerves and cursing later, it was safely tucked up in a line of parked cars.  D.S. Stone separated from the shade of the wall, from whence he had been observing the comings and goings at the hotel bar on the seafront, and slipped into the passenger seat.

"Useful stake-out, sir?"

"Waste of bloody time and effort.  All that happened was, she did her packing and Lurch trailed after her from room to room.  Apart from them getting up close and personal, there's nothing to report."

"Getaway!  Her and that undertaker were…"

"Nah, not really.  It was more her getting up close and personal with him.  He just stood there like a wet weekend, as far as I could see.  No sign of Frankie anywhere and she's shut the place up tight as a drum now, so if he is in there, he's stuck.  I don't reckon he can be though, else she wouldn't have let Lurch roam around all over the shop.  How about you?  Did Constable Carlos turn up?"

"Yes, and it was Juan Carlos, actually" D.S. Stone took the opportunity to show off his Spanish pronunciation.

"It was what?"

"Juan Carlos" D.S. Stone replied, giving it everything he'd got in the way of aspirants.

"Oh right, I thought you said…"

"No, I didn't.” D.S. Stone said, firmly, “His name was Juan…Carlos and he was very helpful.  Let me have the run of the place, such as it was."

"No sign of Frankie, I don't suppose?"

"No sign of anybody.  He'd definitely been there, though.  There was 'Frankie Woz Ere' scratched into the cell wall.  Mind you, according to Juan Carlos, they know where the bloke who should have been guarding him is."

"Brilliant!  Where is he, we'll go and have a chat."

"I don't think so, sir.  He's in Colombia.  Flew out yesterday.  Got family in South America, apparently."

"Had he got Frankie with him?"

"Not according to Juan Carlos.  He bought a single one-way ticket at the airport.  They're a bit embarrassed about it, actually."

"I'll bet they bloody are!  Presumably Frankie made him an offer he couldn't refuse, and while P.C. Pablo pissed off to Latin America, Frankie’s done a runner to god knows where."

"It's a bit of a mess, sir."

"That's the understatement of the year!  Our boss is going to do his fruit when I tell him.  Anything else to report?"

"No, not really.  The small undertaker's been in and out of the funeral parlour like a dog at a fair, looking up and down the road, presumably for any sign of Chantelle and the other one.  Oh, there has been one bright spot, guess who turned up just now?"

"I'm not in the mood for guessing games, sergeant.  If it wasn't Frankie Knight, I'm not interested."

"You will be, when I tell you.  Only that neurotic couple from the plane and the hotel.  You know, the ones who made all the fuss on the plane?  Got off in Paris with the two undertakers?"

"Never!"

"Straight up.  They just parked on the front a while back.  They sat there for a bit and then went in to the Hotel Ribera Playa.  The same one where we just sat and had a drink with Chantelle and the undertakers."

"Maria's brother's place."

"Is it?  I didn't know that."

"Yeah, she was telling me about him when we went for dinner last night."

"It's a bit of a coincidence, don't you think, sir?"

"What?  Maria's brother having a hotel?"

"No, I mean, well, I don't know what I really mean.  But look, it's right next to both the funeral parlour and the lock-up.  We found the undertakers there and that Chantelle woman, and now these two have turned up like bad pennies.  Do you think they're all in on it, somehow?"

"Hmmm.  Makes you think, doesn't it?" D.I. Wood rested his chin on his hands on the steering wheel and glanced at the rear-view mirror, "Hey-up, Stoney, Lurch and Lolita have just arrived back, if I'm not mistaken.  Get your My Little Unicorn binoculars out and keep an eye on them."

Now read on in Part 21