Play Dead (D.I. Kim Stone, #4)(66)

‘How old is this guy?’ Bryant asked as they walked up the driveway.

‘He retired from Cornheath primary about fifteen years ago so…’ she said, pressing on the bell. She heard no sound so she tapped on the glass.

The door was swung open by a woman in her mid-forties wearing a navy overall. Her hair was cut short and showed some colourful costume jewellery in her ears.

‘Thank you but we don’t want…’

The door was beginning to close.

‘Police,’ Kim explained, quickly realising the woman had taken them for salespeople or canvassers.

The door stopped.

‘Identification?’ she said, frowning and looking to each of them.

Both she and Bryant showed their ID. Kim had a feeling they were not getting in otherwise. The name Vera was embroidered into her overall.

Still the door did not move backwards. ‘What do you want? Mr Jackson tires very easily and…’

‘We need to speak to Mr Jackson regarding an investigation, and we will discuss the matter with him directly,’ Kim said, pushing firmly against the door.

The woman got the message and began to back away.

‘The door to the left,’ she said, closing the door behind them. ‘He’s just had his evening meal, and he tends to get sleepy afterwards…’

‘You come in and care for him?’ Kim asked, pausing.

She nodded. ‘His son comes every morning before going to work, and I pop in twice a day.’

Kim’s heart began to sink. This man needed a great deal of assistance.

‘Alzheimer’s,’ Vera clarified.

Kim knew enough about the disease to understand why it was called ‘the long goodbye’. The cause was poorly understood, and she had read once that it was something to do with plaques and tangles in the brain.

She also knew that there was no treatment to stop or reverse the disease’s progression.

‘How is he with remembering things?’ Kim asked.

‘He’s gradually spending more time in the past than the present. Sometimes he believes a memory has already happened when it hasn’t. Other times he thinks an old memory is a new one. When his son comes he tends to combine two totally separate recollections and other times he confuses the people so…’ She shrugged.

‘Thank you,’ Kim said with a smile.

She turned left into a room that was built for comfort and not style. An array of dark furniture that had obviously accrued over the years now jostled for space. Ornaments and trinkets adorned every surface.

Mr Jackson sat in a reclining armchair. His eyes were closed and his mouth slightly parted.

His face looked peaceful beneath a full head of white hair.

Bryant offered a gentle cough.

The eyes fluttered open and looked in their direction. For a second there was confusion before his eyes lit up and sparkled. It couldn’t be because of her. No one was ever that pleased to see her.

Mr Jackson’s gaze travelled past her to Bryant.

‘My boy, come closer. How are you?’

Bryant looked her way as Vera entered, carrying a mug of something hot.

She stopped alongside Kim. ‘He thinks your man there is Mr Simmons, an English teacher he mentored at Cornheath. Every man under the age of fifty is Mr Simmons, who actually died five years ago. We just don’t remind him any more.’

Vera expertly placed the mug in the only space available on the cluttered table.

‘Should we correct…?’

‘He wouldn’t believe you if you did,’ Vera offered matter-of-factly.

Mr Jackson beckoned again and Bryant moved forwards cautiously.

Kim took a step. ‘Mr Jackson, we’re here—’

‘Oh and this must be your lovely wife. How nice to meet you, my dear,’ he said, nodding enthusiastically.

Bryant’s expression held amusement that she would surely punish him for later.

‘Yes, isn’t she?’ Bryant said, turning away from her. ‘I was just telling my… er… wife the other day about our years at Cornheath, Mr Jackson.’

His face lit up. ‘Best years of my life, son. We had some times, didn’t we?’

‘We did that, Mr Jackson,’ Bryant said, lowering himself into the nearest seat. ‘In fact, I was trying to recall the detail about that unfortunate incident with Jemima Lowe. Do you remember?’

Kim held her breath. She was normally the one for the long shot. Bryant was really throwing the net out this time.

His face saddened. ‘Oh yes, I remember. Terrible business. Children can be so cruel.’

Bryant glanced her way. His look said ‘back off, I’ve got this’ and he had.

Kim retreated to the doorway. Somehow this subterfuge felt wrong. Although she had to wonder if the information would be accessible to them any other way.

Vera appeared in the doorway and Kim asked the question with her eyes. Vera nodded and leaned against the door frame.

‘My memory isn’t what it used to be, Mr Jackson. I can’t quite remember what happened now.’

‘Oh, it’s your age, my boy. Happens to us all. It was those girls, if you remember. A group of them. Pinned that child down in the gym hall and lifted her dress up and held her there for everyone to come and see her privates. Awful business.’

‘I don’t recall how many girls there were, Mr Jackson,’ Bryant said gently.