That burning house, just another half-mile on, and there it was. Branddreth College, place where were staying. Didnt I say I had the instinct?
And wheres this place were at now, Caerlindys, is it?
Sound like a native, Joe. Twenty miles going on seventy from the college, depending whether you know the lingo. Bad news is the towns not much bigger than the Hypermart back home, good news is the hospitals almost as big as the town.
You bring me here, Merv?
No. That cop, never caught his name, conjured up the whole circus, cop cars, ambulance and fire engine turned up. Too late to do any good, mind. House is ashes, which youd have been too if you hadnt pulled your Y-fronts over your trousers and done the switch. Youre a hero, Joe, but dont be surprised if the cops treat you like an idiot or a suspect. Guy in charge is a DI called Ursell, pronounced arsehole from the sound of him. Ive met some miserable bastards but he beats them all. Hes like Chivers without the charm.
This was a poor recommendation, Sergeant Chivers of Luton CID being the founder member of the Sixsmith-sucks club.
He around, is he?
Oh yes. Asking more questions than Ruby Wax and cheekier with it. Hell surely want to talk to you, Joe. Numero duo on his list after the woman, and shes not talking to anyone.
The woman? Oh shoot. Joe was racked with guilt he hadnt thought about the woman till now. Hows she doing, Merv? Youre not saying shes out of it?
No, still with us, they say, but only just. She looked a real mess last night. Then so did you and look at you now! Hey, heres something to cheer you up.
Joe looked towards the door and groaned, but only inwardly. Groaning outwardly at Aunt Mirabelle was never a good idea. In a hospital bed, it could have you on your belly receiving an enema. In her eyes, any treatment that didnt start with a good clear-out was doomed to failure.
Then his spirits lifted as he spotted Beryl close behind her, talking to a tiny nurse who looked about twelve, with an elfin face and the brightest red hair hed ever seen, bursting out of the confines of her cap like tongues of fire. Not a comfortable image.
You awake at last, Joseph? said Mirabelle. Bout time. Doctor says theres not much wrong with you.
Now thats not exactly true, said Beryl, breaking off her conversation.
Mirabelle gave her a reprimanding glare, then stooped to kiss Joe on the cheek, at the same time whispering in his ear, You did real well, Joseph. Your ma, God rest her soul, would have been real proud of you.
Thanks, Auntie, said Joe, touched.
She straightened up and at her normal volume said, Why you speaking that funny way? You aint gone and done something to that voice of yours, I hope. Its rough enough the way the Lord made it without you sticking in your sixpennth.
Joe sighed. He had no desire to play the big hero, but he didnt really see why everyone should find it necessary to hide his light under their bushel. Surely modesty was his prerogative?
Rescue was close. Beryl gently moved Mirabelle aside and stood smiling down at him.
Hi, Joe, she said. Reckon you owe me an apology.
Huh?
There we are, middle of a conversation, suddenly you take off without a pardon-me-maam, next time I see you, youre flying out of a burning house with a naked woman in your arms. Hope youd do the same for me if the occasion arose.
The memory of his waking dream rose in Joes mind and he felt himself blushing.
You got a fever, Joe? she said anxiously.
Then she stooped and kissed him full on the lips.
No, that feels about normal, she said.
This a new NHS economy measure? he croaked. All the nurses taking my temperature this way?
In your dreams, she laughed. And Joe blushed again.
He took another drink of water. The red-headed nurse came forward and picked up the empty jug. She wore a name badge which told him he was being cared for by Nurse Tilly Butler, which was nice. Made it feel like a user-friendly hospital.
Throat bad, is it? she said sympathetically. Doctor will be along shortly, get you something to soothe it then.
Guinness? said Joe hopefully.
She laughed and said to Beryl, You were right about him then. Back in a mo.
What you been saying?
Nothing that needs bother you. Shes a nice kid.
I noticed. Shouldnt she be at school?
You think? Maybe she thinks you should be in the gerry ward.
Sorry, said Joe, reproved. So hows it look to an expert, this place? They got chloroform yet?
There you go again, Joe, sighed Beryl. You and that lady you saved hit real lucky. Nurse Butler was telling me, they closed a lot of small hospitals round the region and put all their resources into this one. State of the art is what you got here. Makes where I work look ancient.
Yeah, but they got you to keep them young, croaked Joe gallantly.
It got him a smile. Then a voice said, Excuse me, and Beryl was edged aside by a weary-looking young man in a white coat whose name badge said he was Dr Godsip, though from the way he glanced down at it from time to time, Joe got the impression he wouldnt have minded finding he was somebody else.
After a yawn which looked like it might be terminal, he started checking off Joes ailments. Joe was reminded of a mechanic doing an MOT.
Superficial burns to the face and hands; dislocated left shoulder, replaced; wrenched right knee; heavy bruising to the back and buttocks; various other minor strains, sprains, and contusions of the arms and legs; nothing life-threatening; Id say youve been very lucky, Mr Sixsmith.
It didnt feel that way. Like warning lights on a test circuit, each of the injuries flashed pain as the doctor listed them, and by the time he finished, Joe felt much worse than he had before.
What about his lungs and throat, Doctor? asked Mirabelle. He sounds real funny.
Yes, that was the most worrying thing. Often its not fire that does the real damage, but smoke inhalation. But as far as we can see, hes been lucky there too. Therell be some discomfort if he breathes too deeply, and his oesophagus will feel like its been pulled through with a pineapple for a while, but no lasting damage. Now, normally wed keep him in for observation for another day or two, but if hes happy to discharge himself
Joe sat straight up, ignoring the pain.
Hey, man, he said. What is this? I know you folk get short of beds, but how many legs do I need amputated before you let me stay here?
It was Beryl who answered.
Dont be exciting yourself, Joe, she said. Yes, they are short of beds, but no, theyre not throwing you out. Only theres a nice little sickbay at Branddreth College, and with me being a nurse, the docll be happy to let me take care of your medication. Also therell be a doctor in attendance at the festival wholl be able to check you out if necessary. We thought you might like it better to be close to the others rather than stuck here, miles away. But its your say-so.
Joe scowled thoughtfully, but inside he was chortling with delight. Cosy little sickbay with Beryl as his private nurse or stuck here among the living dead with hospital hours and hospital food no contest!
Where do I sign? he wheezed.
Godsip, who was still young enough to feel guilty at giving a patient the bums rush, wanted to put him in a wheelchair but Joe insisted on getting dressed and walking under his own steam.
He regretted it the moment he stood up but he wasnt going to back off now and by the time hed got into his clothes, hed adjusted to the discomfort, but tying his shoelaces made him wince.
Ill get that, said Merv, kneeling before him.
Heard you English were into hero worship but didnt realize how far it went, said a sardonic Welsh voice.
It came from a tall thin man with eyes screwed up as if against the sun and a weathered face who looked like Clint Eastwood at early Dirty Harry age. His suit looked about the same vintage too.
Brynner, Burton and Eastwood, all in the same neck of the woods. Maybe Ive wandered into an old movie, thought Joe, and these burns and bruises are just make-up.
Merv stood up. He didnt tower over the newcomer but he had a couple of inches advantage which he used to good effect.
Joe, this is DI Ursell I told you about, but I expect youd have recognized him anyway.
Ursell regarded Joe as though thinking about inviting him to make his day.
Glad to meet you, said Joe. Hows the lady?
Im a copper not a quack, said Ursell. What bothers me isnt how she is but who she is. Thought you could help me there.
Sorry? said Joe.
Ursell rolled his eyes and said very slowly, as to a backward foreigner, Did she say anything which might give us a clue who she is?
Not a thing, said Joe. Didnt have time for introductions and she wasnt in a fit state anyway. But dont you folk keep records of who lives round here, council tax, electoral register, that sort of thing?
It was a genuine question. Joe knew the Scots had a different legal system because it had come up in an episode of Dr Finlays Casebook, so maybe the Welsh moved in their own mysterious way too.
Ursell, however, looked like he was taking it as a crack.
Oh, yes, we keep very good records, as you may find, Mr Sixsmith. We like to know all about everyone who lives round here, or comes visiting for that matter. But nothings known about this woman, nothing at all, which I find very puzzling. I suppose everyone on your coach is accounted for?
He glared accusingly at Merv, but it was Mirabelle who leapt into the breach.
What you saying? This poor lady jumped off our coach and ran into that burning house just so my nephew could risk his life saving her? And while were disputing the matter, how come that other policeman who was there didnt do the saving? Aint that what we pay our taxes for?
Even without the backing of rational argument, Mirabelle was a fearsome disputant. With it, she towered like the sons of Anak, and Ursell became as a grasshopper in her sight.
Sorry, no, you misunderstand me, he said, trying without much success for a placating smile. Far as I understand it, Sergeant Prince was in his car, summoning help, and didnt know there was anyone in the house till a few minutes later when he rejoined you all. House should have been empty, see? So what we have here is a woman nobody knows, and shes in a bad way, and all of us are very keen to let her next of kin know whats happened, so as they can get here to give her support and comfort.
He didnt sound very convincing but he suddenly sounded very Welsh, in the same way the Scots become very Scottish and the Irish very Irish at times they want to be defensively disarming. This was a phenomenon Joes radical solicitor friend, Butcher, had pointed out in reference to himself. You saying I come over all Uncle Tommish? hed demanded indignantly. Worse than that, she replied. You come over all poor-me-deprived-Luton-laddish.
Mirabelle wasnt disarmed.
If that wasnt her own house burning, why you not hassling the folk whose house it is? she demanded.
Thats Mr and Mrs Haggard of Islington, London, said Ursell. Theyre on their way but over the phone theyve made it clear no one was staying in Copa Cottage with their permission.
He made Islington, London, sound like Gomorrah, thought Joe. And also he got an impression that this Mr and Mrs Haggard were not people of good standing in Ursells eyes. Of course it could be it was just this anti-Anglocolonization thing hed once read about in a magazine at the dentists.
Maybe they got children, said Mirabelle. Young uns can be pretty free with what aint their own.
She shot Joe an unjustifiably significant glance.
Thank you, maam, said Ursell, clearly tiring of being disarming. Now, if I could have a quick word with Mr Sixsmith alone
There was resistance, but the DI was good at crowd control and in less than a minute he had everyone else out into the corridor. He now looked at the other patients as if considering pushing them out too but decided against it.
Joe said, There was some writing on a wall, something about GO HOME ENGLISH. Maybe this wasnt an accident, is that what youre thinking?
Ursell let out the long-suffering sigh of one who is fed up with being taught how to suck eggs.
Someone mentioned you were some kind of investigator, Mr Sixsmith, he said with a neutrality worse than sarcasm. Not that it mattered to Joe whod been put down by men with research degrees in down-putting.
Not trying to investigate anything, he said. Specially not when you had one of your own men right on the spot. Prince, did someone say his name was? He the local bobby?
Ursell took his time answering.
Not really, he said finally. Just happened to be in the area on another matter, it seems. And not one of my men. Uniformed, or perhaps you didnt notice?
Joe, familiar with the often strained relationship between CID and the rest back in Luton, said provocatively, In, out, always a cop, isnt that what they say?
Ursell said softly, We can certainly count ourselves lucky having two pairs of trained eyes at the scene of the crime.
That unsarcastic sarcasm again.
So it was definitely a crime? said Joe.
Ursell hesitated then shrugged.
Its no secret, not round here anyway. Yes, it was arson. Traces of an accelerant, probably petrol.
So maybe if this woman shouldnt have been in the house, these fire raisers thought the place was empty? suggested Joe.
Could be, admitted Ursell. Why she didnt hear something and get out quick is the puzzle.
Oh, thats easy, said Joe, very superior. She was naked when I found her. I reckon she was in the shower when it happened, probably didnt hear a thing. Came out, found the place full of smoke. Ran into the front bedroom which was when we spotted her. Saw there was no way out there. Headed back, ceiling beneath already on fire, and her foot went through the floorboards. After that, best she could manage was to drag herself back into the shower, turn the cold water full on, and lie there waiting for the end.
The long speech brought on a fit of coughing which spared Ursell the angst of having to agree.
You here to sing, you say? Interesting, he observed when Joe regained control. Rest of the choir coughs in tune too, I daresay.
Come along and listen if youve a spare moment, snapped Joe, irritated at the sneer against the choir. You might learn something.