(aka Bike) Part 1733 by Angharad Copyright © 2012 Angharad
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Somehow I woke up in casualty again. “You fainted,” said Simon’s voice from somewhere behind me. My head still felt woozy but I managed to sit up. “I had to carry you in.”
“Sorry,” I said trying to clear my head.
“How d’you feel?” asked a nurse who came in and took my blood pressure.
“I’ll be alright,” I told her.
She checked me out and said I was well enough to go home, but to take things easy for a day or so. I nodded knowing that I could no more comply with her instructions than swim the channel. I have a million children, or it feels that way some days.
Simon brought the car up for me and I got in. I asked him how he was sure that it was Gareth who was killed. “The body was quite burned, but they could identify it.”
“What was he trying to do?”
“Sort out the leaking exhaust fumes. Apparently he used to help a plumber when he was on vacation from uni, so he thought he knew what he was doing. Apparently, he didn’t. There was some sort of build up and it blew up as he went in the kitchen, where the boiler was.”
“But you can smell gas when it escapes, they put hydrogen sulphide in it.”
“Look, babes, I know bugger all about plumbing and I intend to keep it that way, and as far as I know, the plumber doesn’t know too much about banking. All they said was the fail safe mechanism on it failed and it leaked gas. Maybe he was going in to turn it off or something?”
I shook my head, apart from feeling fuzzy, it seemed incredible that a handsome and vivacious man was now dead and I felt tears trickle down my face. Simon must have looked at me because he apologised for his brusqueness. Poor Stella, how is she going to take it. I made it a priority to call the dressmaker and cancel the dresses as soon as we got home–at least that was one thing I could do to help Stella. I also wondered who would get the job of breaking the bad news–not me that was for certain. I hope she doesn’t blame me for all this.
The atmosphere at home was subdued as one would expect. Trish came to check I was okay and also to check that the news was correct. I told her that I thought it was. Whereupon she told me she’d seen Billie who had mentioned something about looking after Gareth. I told her that I’d had the same dream. She gave me a huge hug and said, “You won’t let Billie take me away, will you?”
“Darling, Billie didn’t take anyone away. She came to help Gareth’s soul find its way to heaven.” I didn’t believe what I said, but hopefully she would.
“Yes, Mummy, that’s probably what it was.”
Once I’d had a cup of tea and helped sort out one or two minor issues, I called the dressmaker and told her that the order was likely to be cancelled as the groom had died. She was a bit snotty at first until I offered to make good any expenditure she’d incurred. She would send me a bill in due course.
There was a report on the local radio that a man had been killed in a gas explosion near Portsmouth. That was all the detail. It all felt very unsatisfactory and so unexpected. If he’d succumbed to the monoxide poisoning either by accident or design, it would have been easier to understand–but this just didn’t compute.
Trish and I went out for a drive, supposedly to shop but we ended up at Gareth’s house–well as close as the police would allow.
“Look ’ere, lady, no ghouls allowed–so go home and cook some lunch for your daughter.”
“Officer, the deceased was about to become my brother in law. I saved his children from carbon monoxide poisoning last night. I can’t believe this has happened–I need to see the place where it happened. I have to convince his fiancée that he’s gone–she’s in hospital with CO poisoning. So don’t accuse me of being a ghoul.”
“The house is unsafe, so don’t go inside.”
“I need to do what I need to do.”
“If you go inside I’ll have to arrest you for attempting to tamper with a crime scene.”
“Crime scene?”
“It’s an unexplained death.”
“In which case, my daughter here ought to see it.”
“What?”
“She has an IQ about the same size as the collective one of your entire force.”
It took a moment for that comment to sink in. As I ignored him I heard him radioing in my car registration number–“Oh, that’s her is it? She don’t seem to like us does she?”
He gabbled on but I ignored him. The house looked sad, there was glass everywhere from the destroyed windows with charring above the partially melted or burnt frames. The wooden door was in pieces over the garden, part of it wedged in the windscreen of Gareth’s car.
In places the roof had been damaged–it must have been one hell of an explosion. I looked at the kitchen, the wall was bowing and some bricks and stones had been blown clean out. Was this just a gas explosion?
Trish was looking at a piece of metal–it had the manufacturer’s name on it–it was part of the boiler, now lying under the damaged car. She poked it out with a stick. “What’s all this sticky stuff on it, Mummy?”
“I have no idea, but I know someone who will.” I had a small plastic carrier bag in my pocket–a habit from occasionally walking the dog–poop bags–we scooped up the article and placed it in the bag. Looking around us we saw other bits of the boiler with the same goo on it, I picked up a piece and gave it to the copper. “What d’you reckon that is?” I asked him.
“A bit of metal, why?”
“Duh–I know that, what about the sticky stuff?”
“Melted plastic I expect, why?”
“Ever seen semtex?” I asked him.
“What?”
“Plastic explosive.”
“I know what it is.”
“Just a thought.”
He was still holding the piece of metal as we got back in the car, talking on his radio and giving me funny looks at the same time–see men can multi task. We drove back and Trish revealed she’d taken several photos on her camera phone. Sometimes I feel like Dr Watson.
Tom was still upset about Gareth’s death but I managed to get the name and phone number of the head of the chemistry department, who I phoned a little later. He was shocked to hear what I had in mind. I simply wanted someone to do an analysis of the sticky residue on the piece of metal I’d found. Eventually my powers of persuasion won out and he agreed that they’d do it–unofficially of course–of course.
I also sent the photos to James, he knows a bit about explosions so his opinion would be useful and I did think perhaps I’d keep some of the residue for him to have analysed as well.
What worried me then, was if Gareth’s death wasn’t accidental, who killed him and why? Was it someone he’d annoyed while he was a Natural England officer or was it because of his attachment to this family, which seems to have certain risks involved?
Lots to think about.
Comments
More twists
Well the use of explosives is more likely than a gas leak. So who was the target and whom is the enemy? Good story, keep it coming, plese.
"Lots to think about."
There is indeed, and Cathy has thought of most of them, as has a certain black male cat who shall remain unnamed until he wins the Pulitzer Prize for Literature, which with this saga seems certain.
Now, Which way shall we go?
++VOTE++ ++VOTE++
Don't let someone else talk you out of your dreams. How can we have dreams come true, if we have no dreams?
Katrina Gayle "Stormy" Storm
More likely to be
the Puss-itzer prize, or the Nobel Peace prize for not bashing Izzy when she so richly deserves it.
Angharad
Or purr-haps the Purr-itzer prize
Or purr-haps the Purr-itzer prize.
I believe that someday there will be a rich canon of human-feline, or should that be feline-human, collaborative literature. You and Bonzi are just ahead of your time, Ang.
Kris
{I leave a trail of Kudos as I browse the site. Be careful where you step!}
The usual Suspects
At last count there is at least 1/2 of the worlds do bad-ers who want this family dead. But
our dearest Angharad only knows who. Plastic explosives The way you tell some one you really hate them.
Great story very good story, Angharad your efforts honor us you truly are a gifted story teller far far better than Ian Flemming. I would love to see your work up on the silver screen. Especially Catherin's first flying lessons on her bike.
Huggles
Michele
With those with open eyes the world reads like a book
Suspect that James may do a little snooping
Photos good, in person inspection, much better.
Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1733
What if Gareth is not dead? He could have been kidnapped and a cadaver left to make it look like he is dead. But if so, why?
May Your Light Forever Shine
I thought...
...the circumstances of his death seemed highly suspicious. The fact that plastic explosives were used suggests that the flue blockage may also have been deliberate - all of which begs the questions as to why Gareth was targeted and why then (given Gareth would probably have been living at the house with no ill effects before Stella moved in, there's a possibility the timing was deliberate).
At least the police were marginally more competent than usual - although they hadn't noticed the explosive residue or shown any signs of suspecting there was more to the size of the explosion than met the eye, at least they were treating the house as a crime scene and treating the death as unexplained (rather than "death by misadventure"). Still, I loved the reaction of the plod who asked for a PNC check on Cathy's car - "She doesn't seem to like us, does she?"
I wonder if they've had the foresight to conduct house-to-house enquiries yet, just on the off-chance someone noticed something suspicious (other than Stella and daughters turning up!)...
As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!
Gas explosions can be very powerful.
A bungalow locally was blown up one morning when the central heating came on because it, and several others, were built on an old reclaimed municipal tip and methane gas had built up to a critical level. So I think it could be a genuine accident but, knowing the past history of our story teller, I think it's unlikely in this case.
I knew things couldn't remain quiet for long :)
Robi
It makes...
It makes more sense - that someone who's actually an experienced plumber (and a few summers is likely more than sufficient) should blow up - in a fairly well ventilated kitchen from something OTHER than a gas leak.. But, the question becomes why. Something makes me think it's more likely related to the Cameron's than the Ecology groups... But, with the kids/Stella OUT of the house. One wonders.
If it was plastic explosive that was used... There needed to be a trigger... Someone nearby triggering it? Or, perhaps Gareth's death was accidental... That the Carbon Monoxide was supposed to do in Stella, Gareth & the kids... And when that failed - the explosive was to hide the evidence of tampering - that allowed for the CO leak to begin with... Hmmm... The Tlot Phickens.
On the Billie front... That IS strange.
It occurs to me that perhaps it wasn't Gareth killed... It was some stranger that RESEMBLED him... That Gareth was kidnapped and the other person inserted - and the explosion used to hide the differences... (Can we say conspiracy theory/paranoia? LOL)
Thanks,
Annette
Thanks for bringing up the Billie
connection. I have to believe (for now at least) that Billie is unlikely to make a mistake about who was killed and I suppose she didn't actually say he was dead but how else would she take care of him?
It occurred to me...
It occurred to me that Billie could have "nudged" Gareth Or some such - at this time... Or, in light of the next episode, perhaps Billie's just keeping an "eye" on the missing Gareth. Depends on how twisted our editorial team will make the story line... :-)
Annette
Well.
Well, once again we'll jus' 'ave to wait an' see.
Sticky black plastic or was it sticky back plastic. not an 'el' of a lot of difference.
Always a good read though.
Thanks Angie.
Bev.
OXOXOX
It does seem
that being close to the Camerons does have a certain element of risk , If it is Semtex then its likely i would have thought to be the work of one or other of the criminal organisations that have had the misfortune to cross Cathys path... Quite who they are is anyones guess , But one thing is for certain they had better hope they they covered their tracks well...
Kirri
Murder?
This was unexpected. Maybe after Simon through his sister?