The Marx Sisters

9

As on the previous evening, Kathy went by Jerusalem Lane on her way home. This time she saw it not as the temporarily emptied setting for the Dore etching, but rather as a piece of nineteenth-century London in the final moments of its life. Suddenly its presence appeared incredibly robust and indelible, every angle and texture an essential part of the reality of the neighbourhood, like the presence of an old and characterful relative whose imminent passing seems inconceivable.

She walked to the south end of the Lane, where number 22 stood close to the junction with Marquis Street. She had thought of checking on the two sisters, but when she saw the light on in Mrs Rosenfeldt’s deli, she went there instead.

The skeletal figure of Mrs Rosenfeldt responded to the bell. She recognized Kathy and acknowledged her with a tight smile.

‘How are you, Mrs Rosenfeldt?’

‘Well enough.’

‘How about Peg and Eleanor upstairs? Have you seen them today?’

She nodded. ‘I’ve been up a couple of times. So have Mrs Stwosz and Miss Pemberton. I think they’ve had enough visitors. They’ll be better after the funeral tomorrow.’

‘Yes, well, they’re lucky to have plenty of good friends.’

‘Ah…’ Mrs Rosenfeldt clucked her tongue. ‘And what about

…’ She nodded her head up the street.

‘Sorry?’

‘Witz and Kowalski-those people in the Croatia Club. I told your Inspector about them.’

‘Yes, we’re checking on that. There are a number of things we’re looking into. When was the last time you saw Mr Kowalski?’

She shook her head. ‘Couple of weeks, I don’t know.’

‘Well,’ Kathy said, let me know if you hear of anything else we should know.’

She turned to leave, and as she pulled the door open she noticed a point of light, like a candle flame, flicker briefly in the dark corner of the synagogue, where its back butted up to the end of the terrace on the other side of Jerusalem Lane.

‘That’s funny. I thought I saw a light in the synagogue yard.’

‘That’ll be Sam,’ Mrs Rosenfeldt said. ‘Lives in a cardboard box in the corner there.’

‘We never saw him when we were going round the block talking to people.’

‘He’s not usually there during the day. He doesn’t like to be disturbed. He’s been around for six months or more. I think it’s shocking that people should have to live like that-in a cardboard box!’ She snorted. ‘More and more of them now. It’s like the thirties again. Meredith used to talk to him. And Eleanor, too. Not since Sunday, of course. They would sometimes take him food. He liked the Balaton’s goulash, poor old soul. Like the thirties again.’

Kathy bought a take-away portion of goulash at the Balaton and walked quietly back to the synagogue. She could dimly make out the pile of cardboard in the corner of the yard, behind the railings. She went through the open gates and over to the boxes, opening the lid of the goulash tub so that the smell filled the night air.

‘Sam,’ she called.

There was a snuffling sound, and then a voice.

‘Meredith? El’nor?’

‘I’m Kathy, a friend of Eleanor’s.’

Sam crawled out of his box. The flame of a gas lighter briefly illuminated his face. He looked old. A battered hat was pulled low on his forehead and a dirty white beard filled much of the rest of his face. Kathy made out a sore on the end of his nose.

‘I’ve brought you this.’

He nodded and took the container from her. Untroubled by its heat, he pushed the food quickly into his mouth with a plastic fork. Kathy let him finish, and then as he turned to crouch back into his box, she said, ‘Sam, Meredith died on Sunday.’

He stopped and turned to her. ‘Died?’

‘Yes. In the afternoon. Were you around here then? Did you see anyone visit her on Sunday afternoon?’

He crouched, lost in thought for some time. Then he spoke. ‘Bow tie.’

‘What?’

‘Man with a bow tie. Rang Mer’dith’s bell on Sunday afternoon. Went inside.’

‘Have you any idea what time it was?’

Again he pondered. ‘Sun was shining on the front of Mer’dith’s house. When he came out it wasn’t any more.’

‘You’re sure it was Sunday?’

He snorted. ‘The bells of St James was ringing.’

He turned and crawled into the box.

On her way back, Kathy checked with both Mrs Rosenfeldt and the people in the Balaton Cafe, but no one knew of anyone who wore a bow tie.

Kathy ran to the front door, reaching it before the chime of the bell had faded in the small space of her hallway. He grinned at her and threw a bouquet of flowers behind her onto the hall table. He took her in his arms.

Before or after the door is closed? she thought.

‘Happy birthday, darling, for yesterday.’

She kissed him.

‘Am I forgiven, then? Good. Let’s go to bed.’

He felt her body stiffen with sudden annoyance.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing. Yes, come on.’

After they made love, she lay curled against his side, smelling his expensive after-shave. Not the one I gave him, she thought to herself.

Aloud she said, ‘Are you beginning to find it a chore, coming here?’

‘Oh, come on, Kath. I explained what happened last night.’

‘Not about last night. It’s been just over six months’-she meant to say it lightly, matter of fact, but she could hear it coming out petulant-‘and I thought you must know me so well now that the excitement might have gone for you.’

‘Has it for you?’

‘No. For me it’s just as exciting as it was the first time. It always has been.’

‘Well, then.’

Trust a lawyer never to answer the question. ‘Have you had a bad day at work? You seem tense.’ He stroked her cheek.

‘Not bad, really. A bit frustrating in some ways, and I’ve found it difficult trying to lead a case with a Detective Chief Inspector from Scotland Yard breathing down my neck. I wanted to tell you about it last night.’

‘Who is it?’

‘David Brock.’

‘Oh, Brock. That’s interesting. He’s quite a big gun. You must have a pretty important case.’

‘No. Just some old lady who was probably suffocated while she was asleep. He said the Yard assigns him to odd things from time to time, and it looks as if I’m this week’s oddity.’

‘What’s he like?’

‘Oh… quite sexy, really. If you go for older men.’

‘I meant to work with.’

‘He seems very relaxed, almost detached. Not what I expected at all.’

‘Maybe they’re assessing you for promotion, or a transfer. Inspector Kolla of the Yard. I like it.’

‘Piss off.’

‘He led the hunt for Gregory North recently, didn’t he?’

‘Yes. Everyone we’ve questioned seems to know about it. One suspect today got him to give him his autograph for his son.’

‘Did he talk about the North case at all?’

‘Only briefly. Said it wasn’t over yet.’

‘Really? I wonder what he meant by that? North escaped to some place in South America, didn’t he? Where they can’t extradite him.’

‘I don’t know. He said something about having a surprise in store for North. Let’s have a glass of wine. I’ve opened a bottle of the special Italian red for your birthday. You remember the Barolo?’

Kathy’s lips moved seductively up his shoulder to his neck. But she could feel the tenseness in his arm around her. If he’s looking at his watch I’ll bloody kill him.

‘I have to go, love. I’m sorry. Let’s have a glass while I get dressed.’

‘You’ve only just arrived.’

‘Don’t say it like that, Kath. I told you what the score was tonight.’

Kathy stomped out to the kitchen and returned with the two glasses of wine. She sat, naked, on the end of the bed and watched him as he did up his shirt buttons, pulled on his trousers.

‘You ought to get Brock to talk about the North case. It’s very interesting.’

‘Bugger the North case.’

‘No, really. Try to find out what kind of surprise they’ve got lined up for him. Maybe they’ve got around the extradition thing.’

‘Why are you interested? He’s not a client, is he?’

‘Of course not.’

The extra-special-super-charming smile, the one kept in reserve for new judges, not to be used too often in case it gets shop-soiled.

‘Just professional curiosity. It’s an opportunity for you to see how the big league works. But suit yourself, anyway. Oh God, I must fly.’

‘Flap, flap.’

‘Come on, darling, this isn’t like you.’

He took her in his arms again, kissed her gently on the mouth. ‘I do love you, you know that.’

‘I love you too,’ she whispered. ‘I really do.’ And then he was gone.