Homeward Bound (Bring Out Your Dead series - Part 45)

Continued from Episode 44 - 'I Can't Stand The Rain'

The story so far (you can read from the start at 'Episode 1 - Board Stiff!'):  Josiah and Archibald, our two Undertakers, are on a mission to Spain to collect the mortal remains of Sir Lewisham Carnock.   With Frankie safely back in the cargo hold and out of harm's way and D.S. Stone kept happily diverted, Chantelle only had to ensure Archibald got his longed-for shower and all her troubles were over!  Samantha was not in such a happy position, scrunched down trying to nap in a howling gale whilst waiting, for however long it takes, for the ferry to finally dock:

 

“Let me get this right,” D.I. Wood said, with his head in his hands, “I sent you off to keep an eye on Doreen’s cabin, because there was no point in both of us being here watching Lurch and his mate, but instead of doing that, you go off for a coffee and a cosy chat with the said Doreen, is that right?”

“Well, sort of” D.S. Stone conceded, “but, as she’d come out of the cabin, there was no point in me watching it, now was there?”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW?” D.I. Wood shrieked, “there could have been anyone in there, couldn’t there?  But we’ll never know now, because Doreen was leading you by the todger down to the caff!”

“I think that’s a bit unfair, sir” D.S. Stone muttered.

“A BIT UNFAIR!”  D.I. Wood glared at his subordinate, “I’ll tell you what’s a bit unfair, me trying to keep an eye on these two while you’re swanning around with a suspect” D.I. Wood shook his head, “what’s more, because you were off gallivanting, I couldn’t keep my eye on both of them and Lurch has gone off to god knows where?”

“Sorry, sir” D.S. Stone said, in a small voice.

“And what did you and Doreen get up to whilst you were communing over a cappuccino?”  D.I. Wood raised an eyebrow.

“It was a flat white, actually, sir” D.S. Stone said, automatically, and immediately regretted it.

“I don’t give a flying how’s-your-father if it was a cinnamon latte with oat milk, what were you talking about?”

“Well, I was telling her about the fossil discoveries on the south coast”

“Do me a favour” D.I. Wood rubbed his forehead, “you mean to tell me that you’re sat there with one of the most beautiful women on this tub and you’re telling her about some fossils?”

“She seemed interested!” D.S. Stone protested.

“I’ll bet she did!”  D.I. Wood snarled, “anything to keep you away from that cabin, that’s what I reckon.  Anything else?  Anything untoward you may have noticed?”

“No, not really” D.S. Stone frowned in concentration, “oh yes, she lost an earring”

“What do you mean, she ‘lost an earring’?”

“Well, she suddenly said she’d lost her earring, so I went looking for it under the table but I couldn’t find anything, other than an old chip” D.S. Stone explained.

“And where was Doreen while you were scrabbling about under the table, retrieving second-hand food?”

“Ah, that was the funny thing” D.S. Stone nodded, “when I got up from searching under the table, I could have sworn she was walking back through the door, back into the restaurant”

“Did you ask her what she’d been doing?”

“Yes, she said she thought she saw something gleaming in the doorway, but it wasn’t her earring” D.S. Stone rubbed his chin, “actually, it was funny because, when I looked, I could see she still had both earrings in her ears.  I mentioned it to her”

“And what did she say about that?”  D.I. Wood folded his arms.

“Just said it was a mistake!”  D.S. Stone shrugged.

“She’s had you for a chump!” D.I. Wood shook his head, despairingly, “God knows what she was up to while you were playing hide and seek under the table!  I’d be better off with a police dog, I really would!”

“You know you were keeping an eye on the older one of those two undertakers?” D.S. Stone said, conversationally, peering over the back of their chairs.

“Yeah, why?”  D.I. Wood sighed.

“Well, I only mention it” D.S. Stone said, smugly, “because now he’s gone as well”

* * * *

 

Chantelle, the subject of the detectives’ discussion, was meanwhile, knocking on the door of her en-suite.

“Are you decent, yet?” She trilled.

“No, I’ll be finished in a minute” Archibald’s panic-stricken voice replied.

“Give me shout if you need any help” Chantelle grinned.

“I’m alright, ta” Archibald said, firmly, “I’ll be out in a jiff”

Chantelle sniggered and plonked herself down on the lower bunk, picking up a ship’s magazine to browse.  She nearly banged her head on the upper bunk when a knock came on the cabin door.

‘Please, God, don’t let it be Frankie’ She prayed, silently, to herself.

She opened the door a sliver and was mightily relieved to see Josiah Oakshott standing outside.

“Mr. O.!  Don’t tell me you’ve come for a shower, too?” Chantelle grinned and threw the door open.

“Ah, no, but thank you for the kind offer” Josiah walked in and took note of the accommodation he was financing, “I am adequately provided for, in that regard.  Is Archibald with you?  I thought he was finally going to achieve the ablutions, about which he has been sulking for some time?”

“He’s in the en-suite” Chantelle pointed at the door, “drying himself” She confided in a whisper, “he won’t come out until he’s fully dressed, because he’s afraid I might be overcome with passion and ravish him!”

“Is that a potential likelihood?” Josiah looked shocked.

“Ha! Not on your nelly!” Chantelle chuckled, “I prefer my men a little more on the… mature side”

Josiah was suddenly aware that she was much closer than before and staring directly into his eyes.

“Is that so?”  He blushed, deeply and cleared his throat, “I erm, I wish you every success in that endeavour” he said, lamely, backing away as far as he could in the tight confines of the cabin.

“Were you…looking for something in particular?”  Chantelle advanced toward him, eyebrows raised questioningly.

“No, no, I just wondered if you had heard the announcement by the Captain, a short while ago?” Josiah was aware that he had backed into the door and had nowhere else to go.

“No, I didn’t hear any announcement.” Chantelle shook her head and straightened his tie, “Then again, with Archie in there singing and splashing away…” She nodded toward the en-suite.

“Well, the gist of it was” Josiah reached up and smoothed his tie back down, “that the storm has now abated sufficiently for us to put into port.  We should be docking within the hour”

“Is that right?  We’re going home at last?” The en-suite door burst open and a delighted, and fully clothed, Archibald Thurble tumbled out.

“Yes, Archibald, I’m delighted to say we are” Josiah smiled and nodded.

* * * *

 

“Oh, flaming hell!”  D.I. Wood got up from his seat and stared wildly around the lounge, “that’s ‘cause I was focusing on you, you pillock!”

“I wonder where they might have gone?”  D.S. Stone asked, pointedly.

“Could be anywhere!” D.I. Wood shrugged, “any road up, if we’re coming into port, we’ll be able to track them down when we’re disembarking, and this time don’t you dare take your eyes off any of them, right?  I don’t care if Doreen strips down to her knickers and waves her bra above her head, you keep a close eye on all of them, alright?”

“Right!” D.S. Stone confirmed, whilst trapped in a reverie that involved a partially clad Chantelle hoisting her lingerie like a flag of distress.

* * * *

 

In her windswept limousine, Samantha was dozing, fitfully, when there was a sharp tap on her side window.  She jumped, reflexively, and scowled when she saw it was the unhelpful port person from earlier.  She wound the window down.

“Yes?”  She said, tersely, as a fair amount of rain spattered onto her face.

“I know somethink!”  He said, with deep satisfaction, rain dripping from his ears and nose.

“I’m so pleased for you!”  Samantha snapped, “Care to share it?”

“The ship’s coming in to dock”

“How do you know?”  Samantha asked, suspiciously.

“They had to tell me, didn’t they?”  He shrugged, “’cause I’ve got to put these…” There was a crash of windblown surf against the car and the man was buffeted to one side, “…ing cones back out again, enni?”  He staggerred back and continued, pointing to the skip containing the traffic cones from earlier.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah!”  The man looked at her with a puzzled expression, “I couldn’t leave ‘em out, could I, else they’d have gone all over the shop, innit?”

“I don’t mean about the cones!” Samantha snarled, “I mean about the ferry coming in to port”

“Yeah, ‘course, else they wouldn’t have me putting the cones out!”  He shook his head at her lack of comprehension and marched, damply, back to the skip.

Samantha wound the window back up and breathed a sigh of relief.  ‘With a bit of luck,” She thought, ‘we can finally get this ruddy awful commission over and done with, at last.  After everything that’s happened, surely nothing else could go wrong?’

Now read Part 46