“Worlds End Villa, 16 Rees Mews. . .” mussed Wade, looking down into his battered note book. “There is no Number 16. Rees Mews only has 12 properties”. An aging rock star in black leather jacket, blue jeans beige shoes with a beige toy dog made their way down the Mews. Wade approached him “I can’t seem to find Worlds End Villa, 16 Rimmer Mews”
“There isn’t one mate”. The fading pop idol idle sidled round Dawe’s shoulder and peered into the contents of the book. “That’s a bit old school, in nit? Still using pen and paper, I’d have thought you’d all be using smart devices linked to a central computer for looking thing up like which train you’ve left it on. . .”
“We are looking for Everard “Eveready” Devereux, know him?”
“Never heard of him mate. It’s a close community here, I know every one. There’s nothing else for us to do all day but get to know every one. Is there boy?” He addresses the dog before turning back to Wade. “You’ve been sold a wrong ‘en mate – false name and address”. He wandered down the Mews chuckling to the dog “Fucking police, mugs.” The celebrity stopped and turned “Tell you what. That Estate there is Worlds End, you might wanna try up there. . .”
“Right, I know, thanks!” Wade turned back to the car but Inspector Lee was already nearing the edge of the estate.
When Sergeant Wade caught up with Inspector Lee she was waving a photograph of Eveready at some uninterested youth.
“You won’t get anything outta them. They wouldn’t tell ya anything thing even if they knew shit.” Shouted a woman of indeterminate age pulling a shopping trolley.
Wade who was nearer to the woman said, “We’re looking for Eveready’s place. Do you know him?”
“What do the police want with him?”
“He’s missing, possibly murdered.”
Shame, nice lad. A bit posh, but decent enough. Down to earth, you know? Could always sort you out. Well, if he’s in some sort of serious trouble it’ll do no harm to tell ya. Ya see that road, well just in front of that car, yours I’m guessing, there’s a narrow alley that leads up to some lock ups for posh engines. If you look carefully enough you’ll see a shed. Eveready lives in there like a wounded dog”.
“Thanks” said Wade and started back toward Rees Mews.
There were shouts of “Grass” from the youth.
“Fuck off!” good as she got, the trolley woman returned the compliment.
Lee and Wade found the lock up garages. Built into the end of the row was another structure with ill fitting old wooden garage doors, once apparently painted a vivid royal blue, containing grime encrusted windows at the top.
“No need for keys” said Wade “Somebody has forced the door.”
“Test them any way,” instructed Lee making her way into the building, “Christ, what a smell of weed! How long’s this guy been away for?”
“Could be the person who force the door”.
“What ransack the place find some weed and get bollocksed?”
What could be distinguished after the ransacking there was a small camp style bed, a table with papers and numerous bags of cannabis. In an alcove there was a collection of artists materials and on the shelves and the floor were with books on history and collectables.
“What’s this?” Lee studied the item on the table. Under a title of Always Good, Eveready’s diary described the dimensions and features of an artifact described as Ixtab. Also on the table were a series of mouldings that matched the artifact described.
“Hmm? Like father like son. It seems our boy was working on something in the area of rare collectables.”
“But one lived outside conventional society and the law”.
“Indeed, but I’d say they both were operative outside the Rule of Law”.
“Art forgeries?”
“I don’t know. Let’s see what the old man thinks.”
Inspector Lee finds Mr Devereux at the water’s edge at Little Venice. Together the sand and stare into the pool. Devereux became aware of the Inspector’s presence. ‘I came out to this spot this morning the air and the water were both perfectly still and quite cold for this time of year. I looked across to the other side; it’s very green, the bank and the water. I just stood there for a while, starring at the water & something broke in my head. It was like some body breaking a head sized egg over my skull. I could feel the initial impact reverberate through my bone, then something wet and clammy spreading on my scalp, the contents oozing out down the outside or inside of my head. I thought, “That’s it. Something significant has snapped in my brain”, I honestly expected to see my brains come out through my nose. I thought I was about to die there and then on spot where my son went into the canal.’
They both starred at a spot in the water. Inspector Lee turned to look at Mr Devereux who whole face writhed, the egg was breaking again. Mr Devereux continued “ It was almost as if something was there with him, in the water pulling him under. He struggled for a bit, then water went calm. Just before that something like a fish took off towards the tunnel. Have you ever watched the wakes the fish make when they cut through the water near the surface? That’s what I saw. Or, at least, that’s what I think I saw”.
“This is not a usual case for us & believe me we get to see a lot of weird things that have happened in this town. I’m not really sure where to start. Are we looking for a murderer or was this a freakish accident? If it’s murder then what was the motive? You seem very certain that Everard was carted down to the water and thrown in. Have you thought any more about what happened? Did you see anyone else around, Mr Devereux?”
No! That the whole fucking point! There was no one else around at all. Nobody I could see!”
“I am afraid Sir. We have to consider all options & outcomes. One of which is that Everard may have been drowned in the canal. . .”
Mr Devereux cut in, “Oh, he’s dead alright, drowned. It’s the who and the why that’s the hard part.”
“You seem very certain of that”.
“I am not prone to strange ideas or flights of fantasy, Inspector Lee but I know what I saw. Everard was targeted by something and violently removed from my house, carried down to the waters edge, thrown in and drowned, by an invisible force. All of this happened right before my own eyes. I know what I saw but I couldn’t see what killed my son.”
Inspector Lee paused and let Devereux‘s statement sink in, “Well it’s just we’d like to a team in the water as soon as possible to see what we can find”.
“Fine”.
“I have to ask Mr Devereux, do you drink?”
“Occasionally, I wasn’t pissed if that’s what you mean.”
“Are you aware that Eveready was a drug user?”
“Yes, that comes an no surprise, I tried to reason with him.”
“Do you use recreational drugs?”
“No don’t be ridiculous. . . but thinking about now I am starting to see some of the appeal. . . I just don’t know any more.”
“We’ve made a few discoveries. Perhaps we could go inside.”
As Mr Devereux led the police officers up the bank, the tranquility of Little Venice was overwhelming. The only other sign of life was the muffled noise of traffic on the Westway. It sounded like it could have been miles away.
“It’s not good news, Mr Devereux. Is there somebody who you would like with you?”
“No, it’s just me now. If you going to tell me Everard is dead, then it’s nothing I don’t know already”.
Mr Devereux’s expression remained fixed as his listened to Inspector Lee discoveries.
Everard’s upright body had been found under somewhat bizarre circumstances on the banks of the Thames estuary & that certain elements of the press may be linking this morbid discovery to an unexplained phenomena currently attracting a great deal of media attention, known as the Thames Skier. When she’d finished Devereux looked out of the window for a moment before replying “What an awful thing to have to tell some one.”
Devereux didn’t mention the Ixtab but asked instead “What was possessions were found on my son’s body”.
Dawe read from his list “Keys, Wallet with £310, watch, cannabis. Theft does seem to be the motive.”
Devereux pursed his lips in a mild body shrug, seeming only slightly curious in the answer to his own question.
“Are you able to make a formal identification of the body we found on Swancombe Sands as Everard, Mr Devereux?”
“Yes, of course. What do I need to do?”
“We will arrange that with you in a matter of due course. We found some keys on the your son’s body and attended an address we have on file for him”.
“Pimlico?”
“Yes.”
“We moved in very different circles but he told me he lived alone in a shed, hiding in plain sight in Pimlico. I didn’t really know what to believe. What’s it like.”
“It took us quite some time to locate it but it’s pretty much as Everard described everything you’d expect in a classically educated drop’s out den. When we got there the door had been forced open but we’re not sure why as the scene was relatively undisturbed, history books, artist’s material, recreational drugs and these. Wade placed the mouldings and the notebook on the table.
For the first time Mr Devereux poker face broke. Lee was quick to try and capitalize on Devereux’s evident surprise.
“What was your son copying Mr Devereux? By your own admission you moved in different circles and rarely saw one another. So why, Mr Devereux, was Everard here last night. What did he want your opinion on? Are you involved in this forgery? Are you a part of a criminal gang? Are you also in danger?”
Devereux pursed his lips staring hard at Lee then sighed heavily and collapsed back into his chair.
“Like the trolley dragger said, I suppose it can do no harm to him now but I’m not sure what use it will be to you either”.
“Yes, Everard came here with an Ixtab – a rare, priceless and some people believe powerful antiquity. . . an ancient artifact from a long gone south American culture, the Mayans”. Devereux examined the notes and toyed with the molds deep in thought.
“Mr Devereux?”
“Sorry. Yes, these would fit with the Ixtab. Where he got it I don’t know? He said one previous owner had hung themselves. These notes seem to suggest somebody called “Always Good” would know more about that than I do. Where is it now? I don’t know either. Whatever it was that took Everard took it with them”.
“What did you make of the Ixtab?”
“Not much, I’ve never seen one before. They’re very rare, verging on the mythical. It’s not my area of interest but I’ve no reason to question it’s authenticity. It was quite exquisite.”
“You said powerful? Supernatural power?”
“So some people like to believe. Such ideas are often used to inflate the value of the artifact.”
“What about it’s value?”
“Who knows? It wouldn’t be cheap which was why I was perplexed to see Everard carrying it around but like every thing in this game you need to ask that question to somebody who wants it.”
“Do you believe it had a supernatural aura?”
“As I say, this isn’t my area of expertise but what happened last night is was not natural, by any stretch of the imagination.”
“Could this be an elaborate hoax?”
“It could be. . .”
“Manufactured by you?”
“Why would I want to? I am respected Historian, an Antiquities Dealers, a member of the Antiquities Dealers Association, I might not be all over the television but I am not an art thief like the Pink Panther, Inspector Clouseau. You have my son’s body, does it look like a fake to you? Nothing could be worth this.”
“Do you have any idea who could be responsible? Could it be a way of getting back at you? Revenge perhaps?”
“No. The kid turned up here with this Ixtab thing, gets dragged away almost immediately and then you guys show up.” He paused, “That’s all I know.”
“Well it’s been extremely traumatic for you. Maybe something might come to you later. Do you mind if I ask what’s up stairs”
“Why do you ask?”
“Just routine”.
“Bedrooms, bathroom and a study – where I keep my personal collection.”
“Could we see?”
“Yes of course – feel free to look around, it’s all carefully ordered and stored.”
Inspector Lee sees the staircase and the study are smeared with phosphorescence.
Returning to the foot of the stairs Mr Devereux says, “Well, I’ve told you as much as I know. But how about you, you see things don’t you Inspector?
“Eh?”
“No need to be coy. You are looking around quite carefully, studying all the sites of what transpired yesterday – like it’s left a mark that only you, out of the 3 of us, can see”.
“I’m just trying to piece it all together in, my mind’s eye. . . There is absolutely nothing normal about this case”. The detectives made their way upstairs.
On returning Lee paused at the foot of the stairs. “You are aware we will have to release the identity of the body.”
“Yes, as I say, no more harm can come to Everard now.”
“But you are also aware of the intense media interest and speculation about the Thames water skier phenomenon?”
Mr Devereux nodded knowingly and offered a week wry smile as the Inspector continued.
“Unavoidably, their interest will fall on you. . .”
“Yes, don’t worry about me Inspector. I’ve arranged to leave town for a bit -an old friend has offered to put me up for a bit in their castle. I’ll be quite safe there.”
“Is there anything else we can do now?”
“No. I’m not sure what you can do but please just make your investigation as rigorous as you can. Thank you for coming in person, but if you’ll excuse me I’d like to be alone”.
“OK, than you for your time Mr Devereux. Do we have a contact number for you?” Inspector Lee looked at Sergeant Dawe. “Is this castle far away? We would like you to take a look at the body we’ve found”.
In silence, Mr Devereux stood up and ushered them towards the front door.
“And, of course please let us know if you think of any thing else.”
Opening the front door Mr Devereux came face to face with Fiddler “Mr Devereux, is it true that your son, Everard Devereux is Thames Skier and his body was found on Swancombe Sands?”
“Good bye and good luck Inspector Lee”
He closed the door to the hail of “Mr Devereux!” “Mr Devereux!” and returned to the kitchen table. What had happened in a matter of hours? He hadn’t invited any of this.
As Devereux closed his door the media turned its focus onto the police officers. The detectives pushed out into the melee.
“What have you got?” asked Fiddler pressing into Lee’s face.
“You’ll know in good time.” Lee replied.
“I can help you”.
“I nether want or need your help, thank you. If you know anything about this case you should make a statement at a police station or talk to you good friend Sargent Dawe here.”
“What sort of copper leads an investigation by reading the news the following day. You should less reactive and be more proactive.”
“You should stop obstructing the police. And if you put your report on line we’d all see your ill informed ramblings a little sooner”.
Fixing himself a drink and spliff Mr Devereux went upstairs to his to check on his collection and assemble a travel bag. He’d read about Fillery’s suicide by hanging in his prison cell, taking a long toke he brooded over where the Ixtab and Everard might fit in the greater scheme of things.
Looking out over media lights into the black reflective pool he asked, “How do you exact revenge on the dead?” Below the media hoards amassed watching as the police readied to begin dredging the canal – but neither would find anything tangible in Little Venice. Dispassionately Devereux drew the curtains on the affair and returned to his twins.
Lee and Dawe returned to their car.
“Cool, calm, collected, cold & distant, he knows more than he’s letting on” said Lee. “It looks like Everard brought the Ixtab to his father for evaluation and somebody else intercepted it. The question is who & where the fuck is it now? There is so much stuff that’s all wrong here. Did you say anything about the trolley dragger?”
“Not be boss. How could know?”
“I don’t know. There’s more to this than meets the eye.”
“God I need a fag.” Dawe rummaged in his jacket for the security of cigarette packet, observing, “He’s gotta be worth a fair few pretty pennies. You want me to talk to Fiddler?”
