The Last Devil To Die полностью

‘Oh, God, absolutely,’ says Connie. ‘Or the type to hire someone else to murder someone.’

‘Same thing,’ says Ibrahim.

‘Uhh, not really,’ says Connie. ‘Killing someone and hiring a hitman to kill someone are completely different.’

‘OK, well, we will cover this in our session,’ says Ibrahim. ‘Because it is very much the same thing.’

‘Let’s agree to disagree,’ says Connie.

‘Do you know where I might find them, this Dominic Holt and Mitch Maxwell?’

Yes,’ says Connie.

‘Would you care to elaborate?’

‘No, I think I can leave the rest up to you,’ says Connie. ‘You tell me an antiques dealer is murdered on the day he gives cash to a sharp dresser from Liverpool. I tell you heroin, and the names Dominic Holt and Mitch Maxwell. Anything further is grassing, Ibrahim. You’re not the only one who swears an oath.’

‘I don’t think you swear an actual oath,’ says Ibrahim. ‘And Dom Holt is not a rival of yours?’

‘No, he’s a heroin dealer; I’m a cocaine dealer.’

‘Do the worlds not intersect from time to time?’

Connie looks at Ibrahim as if he is mad. ‘Why on earth would they? Christmas drinks maybe. Not this year of course.’

Ibrahim nods. ‘But if I find out more information, would you like to be kept informed?’

‘Very much,’ says Connie. ‘Shall we get on with the session? I’ve been thinking about my dad, like you asked.’

Ibrahim nods again. ‘And are you angry?’

‘Very,’ says Connie.

‘Splendid,’ says Ibrahim.

In the Coopers Chase newsletter, Cut to the Chase, they often have the names of new residents moving in. They have permission from the people of course, and it can be a nice way of introducing yourself to the community before you turn up with the removal van. It gives us a chance to be nosy too.

Anyway, there is a man moving in next week called Edwin Mayhem.

Edwin Mayhem!

It must be a stage name, mustn’t it? Perhaps he was a magician or a stuntman? Or a sixties popstar? Either way he would be a good subject for my ‘Joyce’s Choices’ column. This month I interviewed a woman who swam the Channel, but they forgot to time her so she had to do it again a month later. She still swims now, in the pool.

I shall certainly be beating a path to Edwin Mayhem’s door. I’ll give him a couple of days to settle in, get his furniture how he likes it, and I’ll be round with a lemon meringue and a notepad.

It is late, and I’m looking out of the window at the lights going off in random windows. There are a few of us still awake though. Coopers Chase looks like an advent calendar.

I had a Cadbury’s advent calendar this year, and I sent one to Joanna too, at the end of November. Joanna says that Cadbury’s have changed the way they make their chocolate and she won’t eat it, but I can’t taste any difference. She used to love a Dairy Milk, she really did, but you’d wait a long time to hear that from her now. Perhaps next year I’ll get her an advent calendar full of diamonds or hummus.

I am looking at my flask now. Here’s to no murders next year. That would have been nice. Or would it? I’m beginning to forget what I did before all the murders started happening. I remember I was going to learn to play bridge, but that’s gone on the back burner. I’ve also got more episodes of Morse backed up on my Sky Plus than I know what to do with. Poor Kuldesh though.

There are so many ways to die when you’re almost eighty, it seems unfair to add murder to the list. They shot him, so he’d obviously upset someone. I asked Elizabeth how she knew all the details, and she said she’s on a WhatsApp group that gets to hear things. I have only recently discovered WhatsApp groups. I’m in the ‘Dog Walkers’ group and the ‘Local Celebrities Seen in Kent’ group. I have had to mute the ‘Things My Grandchildren Say’ group, because I think it is mainly showing off. An eight-year-old saying, ‘Granny, you look like a princess’? I’m sorry, I don’t believe it. I know I shouldn’t be so cynical.

Our first line of enquiry in the murder is a man named Dominic Holt. He runs a company called Sussex Logistics on an industrial estate conveniently near to all the big ports, so the day after the funeral Ibrahim is going to drive us down there and we shall see what there is to see. Like a stakeout. Elizabeth will be the brains, Ibrahim will be the driver, and I’ll be in charge of snacks. Ron complained that he wouldn’t have anything to do, but Elizabeth says he’s there to add colour, and that seemed to placate him.