Open Writing

The keys to the bed-sits were kept at the landlord’s office, Mr Ali. He ran a flourishing estate agency in Keighworth where he’d lived since immigrating.

“Sala’am alekum,” said Khan as they entered.

“Wa alekum sala’am,” the other responded, bowing to the sergeant and Inspector Hartley. He spoke briefly in Urdu to Khan, then switched to English. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?”

They said they’d like to check out Kathy Burton’s room. She was missing. That explained why she was behind with her rent, said the landlord. Most unusual. She’d never been in arrears before. He’d given her some weeks’ grace and was about to see her himself. To see if he could help.

“We’d heard she’d gone to London. She didn’t leave a forwarding address, did she?” asked the sergeant.

No. It was the first the landlord had heard about it. She kept herself very much to herself, but she always paid her rent on time and looked after her flatlet.

Mr Ali gave them the key and they left for Kathy’s bedsit. The house it was part of was large. The former home of a bank manager. It stood three storeys high and the bed-sit was on the top floor with good views across the valley. A large well kept garden lay below, and beyond it a small park. It had once been an exclusive part of Keighworth, but the great houses in the area had either been converted into flats or nursing homes. There were three more rentings on the same floor, much larger than Kathy’s single room.

The detectives had hardly got inside it when there was a knock on the door. Khan opened it and the woman in the flat next door stood there, trying to peer past him. The sergeant said who he was and showed her his I.D. When she explained she was Kathy’s neighbour, Inspector Hartley told her to step inside.

“I just came round to see if everything were all right. I heard someone moving around in Kathy’s flat an’ I knew she wasn’t there. Is summat up?” she asked, her eyes roving round the room.

“Not that we’re aware of Mrs…?''

“Miss. Miss Pickles,” she said, smiling coyly. “I hope you don’t mind me coming round but you can’t be too careful these days, can you? I mean, there’s been some funny folk been comin’ and goin’ here these past few weeks. All since Kathy took up wi’ them. I’ve worried meself about her. She’s changed, y’ know. Used to be such a quiet lass till…”

“Till what?” asked Sgt Khan.

“Till she met up with a real odd lot. They’ve been in an’ out of her place like yo-yos this week. I came round yesterday an’ asked them what were up, but they told me to bugger off!”

She was right. Kathy Burton’s bed-sit looked like Dr Manasas’ office. Drawers and their contents were strewn everywhere and piled on the settee.

Hartley asked if she knew the visitors. She said no - except one, Madame Marie. Everybody in Keighworth knew her, it seemed. There were two men with her.

“They looked like you,” she said, turning to Ibrahim Khan.

“Handsome? he said innocently.

But the joke was lost on her.

“Aye,” she said. “Only bigger. They were well set. Could ha’ been bouncers!”

Khan asked her to describe them. He enquired also about Kathy. Did she have friends? Did she throw parties?

“She weren’t that sort o’ lass. She had one friend. Her own age who came reg’lar. I think they were into one o’ these freak religions. New Age stuff.”

“What makes you think that?” asked Khan.

“They sang an’ burned this incense muck. It came right through the wall. You could smell it for days!” she said. “Only time I ever complained. It got on me chest. An’ it were a rum do when I went round.”

“Oh?”

“T’lights were switched off an’ t’room were lit only by candles. Two black candles wi’ this funny brass snake in between ‘em. They were burning that sickly-smelling muck,” Miss Pickles said.

“Were there just the two of them?” asked Hartley.

“No. I saw Madame Marie sitting on that sofa with Kathy’s friend. Kathy barely opened t’ door but it were enough. I said whatever they were burning were affecting me. She said she were sorry, then shut t’ door quick. I heard her turn t’ key, which I thought were odd,” she explained. That was the last time she’d seen her.

Miss Pickles would dearly have liked to stay longer. Her little birdy eyes flitted everywhere taking in all she saw. But the inspector quietly ushered her out.

“She’s have made a good copper,” he commented. “Didn’t miss a thing while she was here.” And she hadn’t missed a thing when she’d last seen Kathy Burton. He was glad of that.

They sifted through the things piled on the settee and the rest of the stuff there. The drawers from the dressing table and cupboard were stacked in one corner of the room. On top of the wardrobe was a cheap suitcase covered with dust.

“Not much here,” said Khan. “Whatever they were looking for either wasn’t here or they took it when they found it.”

Blake Hartley stood silently in the middle of the room gazing at the pile of clothes on the settee, then at the suitcase on the wardrobe.

“If she went to London, she didn’t take much with her,” he said at length. “Her suitcase is still here, and I’d say all her clothes, too.”

“There’s no sign of the snake or candlesticks,” said Sgt Khan, going to the dressing table. “But there is black wax here.” He pointed to where the candlesticks had been burning.

“I think they came looking for anything which led back to them,” said the inspector. “That’s why they took the candlesticks and snake. There were probably other things. The question now is where do we find Kathy Burton? Get onto the Met when you return, Khan. Fax Kathy Burton’s photo and ask if she’s been seen in the places where young lasses from the provinces usually turn up. There’s not much else we can do here.”

They left quietly enough, but Miss Pickles came out as they shut the door.

“Find owt?” she asked.

The inspector smiled and shook his head. She watched them all along the corridor. At the end of it Inspector Hartley stopped. He turned, catching her unawares.

“Oh, there is one thing, Miss Pickles,” he said. “Will you let me know if those people or anyone else comes to Kathy’s room. Keep well out of their way, but give me a ring at once, please.”

Then he raised his trilby and was off before she could ask more.