Hitchin' A Ride (Bring Out Your Dead series - Part 26)

Continued from Episode 25 - 'Zombie!'

The story so far (you can read from the start at 'Board Stiff!'):  Josiah and Archibald, our two Undertakers, are on a mission to Spain to collect the mortal remains of Sir Lewisham Carnock.  Things have not gone entirely to plan!  However, they're now on their way to Santander with their body in the back of the van (or so they think).  Detectives Stone and Wood have now caught up with them and are following at a discreet distance.  The question is, just what is it they are following?:

D.I. Wood was humming something that bore no resemblance whatsoever to any known piece of music, but he was doing so with gusto.

“You sound happy, sir?” D.S. Stone remarked irritably, finding the noise not exactly conducive to relaxed driving,

“So I should be, Stoney, so I should be!” D.I. Wood linked his hands behind his head, catching D.S. Stone a glancing blow to his temple in the process, “We’ve got that shower back in our sights, thanks to my quick thinking.  Now all we’ve got to do is to make sure we don’t lose them again”

“I’m not really sure what you’re hoping to achieve by this?”  D.S. Stone wondered, rubbing his forehead pointedly, “I mean, what do you think they’re up to?”

“Who knows, sunshine?  Could be anything.  It’s got to be something to do with that ruddy coffin they’re toting about, though”

“You think they’ve got something in it?  I mean, other than the body, obviously!”

“Well, yeah, they reckon they’ve got that toff in there, but I’ll believe that when I see it”

“Sir Lewisham” D.S. Stone supplied.

“Who?”

“Sir Lewisham Carnock.  That’s who they said they were collecting”

“Was it?  Right, well I knew he was a nob of some sort.”  D.I. Wood said with some annoyance, “’Course, we don’t know whether that’s really what they’re here to do…or even if he’s in there…if they are…if you get my drift?”

D.S. Stone looked at him questioningly, “What’s your best guess, then?”

“Dunno.  Could be drugs, although that’s not Frankie’s MO normally.”  D.I. Wood shook his head, “Could be shooters, that would definitely be his barrow.  Could be Frankie, I suppose?”

“You think he might be dead?”

“Who knows?  The whole thing’s a mystery wrapped up in an enema”

“Engima”

“You what?”

“That quote you were using, it’s from Winston Churchill, sir, he said it was ‘a mystery wrapped in an enigma’” D.S. Stone explained.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” D. I. Wood replied, huffily, “it’s not University Challenge you know!  It could, of course, be stuffed with dosh.  We still don’t know what he did with all of the moolah he got from his last job”

“Have you heard anything more from the Alicante police?”

“Not since we’ve been on the road.  Mind you, when you’re at the arse-end of God-knows-where, I don’t suppose there’s a signal”

D.S. Stone glanced at his phone.

“Mine’s got a signal” He announced, proudly.

“’Mine’s got a signal’” D.I. Wood mimicked, “well, bloody good for you, mine hasn…” His voice trailed off as he looked at his phone.  He cleared his throat a couple of times and then stuffed it back in his pocket.

“Problem, sir?” D. S. Stone asked, innocently.

“Seems to be out of charge” D.I. Wood muttered.

“Well, you can plug it in to the car, sir.  Have you got your in-car charger with you?”

“Don’t be so wet, Sergeant, course I haven’t.  I keep it in the car back in Blighty, don’t I?  I suppose you’ve got yours, have you?”

“Of course, sir” D.S. Stone said, proudly.

“Well, there you go, problem solved.  Bung it over and I can check my phone”

“I don’t think It will fit yours, sir”

“What do you mean, why not?”

“Well, mine is a particular brand of ‘phone…quite up to date, sir, whereas yours…”

“What’s wrong with mine?”

“I’m just saying, you’ve had it a few years, sir.  Things have moved on in the meantime” D.S. Stone said, smugly and then, under his breath “they’ve removed the Morse key since then”

“So, I’m up a gum tree with this, is that what you’re saying?  Alicante or the gaffer could be ringing me about all sorts and we wouldn’t be any the wiser, is that it?”

“That’s about the size of it, yes sir” D.S. Stone said with a certain degree of satisfaction.

“Stone the flaming crows!”

******

 

A gentle snoring filled the cab of the bright yellow van that D.I. Wood and D.S. Stone were following.  Archibald Thurble was dreaming peacefully.  The other occupants of the vehicle were not so relaxed.  Chantelle was concentrating on the road ahead whilst Josiah was fighting the urge to join Archibald in his slumbers.  Twice now he had been forced to extricate himself from Archibald’s attempts to use his shoulder as a pillow.

“Don’t you fancy a nap, Mr. O.?  You might feel better for it when we get to the ferry” Chantelle pointed out.

“Thank you for your concern, Miss Lace, but, as this enterprise has been entrusted to my management, I feel duty-bound to remain awake and aware of our situation”

“Up to you, I guess, but you’re not going to be much use if you don’t get your shut-eye” She smiled sweetly.

“I hope to be able to redress the sleep deficit, to a certain extent, during our sea crossing” Josiah explained “it is very kind of you to volunteer to drive, I really am most grateful for your help with this”

“Oh, think nothing of it.  I’d been planning to go back to the U.K. at some point, this has just brought my plans forward a bit”

“I fear that we may be keeping you from your work and your home.  Is there a Mr. Lace wondering where you are, currently?” Josiah asked, somewhat fearful of the possible answer.

“Mr. Lace?”  Chantelle asked, puzzled, “Oh, I see what you mean!  No, no, there isn’t a ‘Mr. Lace’”

Josiah found that he was unaccountably relieved.

“I just thought…well…”

“Come on, Mr. O., spit it out!  We’re all friends here” Chantelle beamed at him.

“Well, I suppose my train of thought was that La Manga is a very exclusive and ah…a rather expensive place to live.  In the absence of a ‘Mr. Lace’ I presume you have erm…another occupation in addition to that of masseuse?”  Josiah ventured, and then “Do forgive me, Miss Lace, I’m sure my interest is entirely unwarranted and uncalled for”

“No problem, Mr. O.  I can see where you’re coming from.  I’m a masseuse in my spare time but, for the most part, I’m actually a student”

“A student?”

“Yes, I’ve just got my Masters’ degree.  I want to go on to study for my Doctorate but that takes an awful lot of money and time.  That’s part of the reason why I want to go back to the U.K., I need to sit down and have a chat with my tutor about possible ways forward.”

“I see.  What are you studying?”

“It’s to do with the Social Sciences.  I’m interested in Organisational Development with particular reference to the role of Emotional Intelligence”

“Really?  Sounds erm most interesting” Josiah said without much conviction “La Manga must be a wonderful place in which to study?”

“Ah, you’re wondering how I can afford to live in a place like that when I’m just a penniless student, aren’t you?” Chantelle chuckled.

“I would not venture to intrude on your financial arrangements, Miss Lace” Josiah said, blushing deeply.

“You’re alright, don’t worry about it.  The truth is, I had a erm…let’s call him a ‘sponsor’”

“A sponsor?”

“Yeah, a gentleman of some means.  He was happy to fund my education and, in return, well… I lived with him”

“Lived with him?”

“Well, more slept with, if I’m going to be honest” Chantelle winked and smiled broadly.

“I see!” Josiah said, a little more judgmentally than he had intended.

“Now you’re shocked, aren’t you?  You’re thinking ‘how could a nice girl like me pimp herself out for an education’?”

“I can assure you that no such thought had crossed my mind” Josiah said primly, adopting the expression of someone who had just won a lemon-sucking contest.

“Yeah, right!” Chantelle smiled at his discomfort, “Well, if it makes you feel any better” She lowered her voice somewhat, “I have been thinking about ending the arrangement.  I think me and my ‘sponsor’ have pretty much run out of road and it’s probably time for a change”

“I trust you will find a more satisfactory arrangement in the future, Miss Lace”

“Anyway, while we’re trading confidences, is there a Mrs. O. waiting and worrying at home?”

“Not as such,” Josiah shifted awkwardly in his seat, “I do, however, have a fiancée.  Although, I must admit, that this is something of a recent development”

“Good for you, Mr. O!” Chantelle punched him, playfully, on the upper arm, “There’s life in the old dog yet, eh?  I assume you’ve been married, or something, before though?”

“I regret not.” Josiah shook his head, mournfully, “As I have explained to Archibald, on more than one occasion, it is an unfortunate fact that, in my opinion, our profession does not exactly lend itself to romantic attachments”

“Really?  Why’s that, do you think?”

“I believe it was the American cartoon strip ‘Li’l Abner’ that coined the expression ‘inside man at the skonk works’ …”

“Inside man at the…?” Chantelle looked puzzled.

“’…skonk works’ The meaning, according to my understanding, is of someone whose job no-one else would reasonably want to do.”   Josiah rubbed his forehead, “I think that rather describes our occupation.  We fulfil a societal need, and many people are fascinated by our work but few, if any, would be prepared to join our profession or, for that matter, seek to become romantically linked to someone in that profession”

“You don’t mean to tell me there aren’t any married undertakers?”

“No, of course not” Josiah shook his head, “I have many colleagues who enjoy a happily married life and I wish them well.  However, from my limited experience, I have found that the fairer sex become markedly less interested when they learn that you dispose of the dead, for a living”

“Aww, Mr. O. that’s really sad!” Chantelle made a sad face at Josiah, “I think it’s a really interesting occupation”

“I have to say, my dear Miss Lace, that you are the exception which proves the rule, as the saying goes”

“But you’ve found someone, now?”

“Indeed,” Josiah nodded, “a colleague, in fact. My fiancée is a Celebrant by trade or calling, she now works for Oakshott and Underwood.  In point of fact, she is minding the business in our absence.”

“Lucky her!”  Chantelle raised a delectably shaped, and questioning, eyebrow.

“I fear that Samantha may not see the matter in quite those terms” Josiah remarked, ruefully, “the original intent was that she would accompany me, not Archibald”

“I see,” Chantelle nodded and smirked, “yet you’re still alive!  What happened?”

“I think that is really Archibald’s story to tell, I wouldn’t dream of invading his privacy” Josiah said, firmly, “I see the sun is trying to make an appearance over there.  Hopefully, we should be in Santander before long”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, when you get him” She nodded in the direction of the coffin in the rear, “back to the U.K., are the family expecting to be able to view him?”

“Sir Lewisham, you mean?”  Josiah shook his head, “I’m afraid that I am not aware of the family’s intentions but, regardless, a viewing would not be practicable for two reasons.  Firstly, there will be little enough time left between our arrival and the arranged time for the interment and secondly, due to my limited command of the Spanish language, I regret that I was unable to ascertain the precise nature of the embalming carried out, if any.  Therefore, given the hot weather, and the time that will have elapsed between Sir Lewisham’s demise and his burial, I think it would be prudent for the casket to remain closed throughout.”

“That sounds like a plan, Mr. O.”  Chantelle smiled and thought, ‘I hope you’re listening Frankie, you’ve dodged a bullet, there!’

Unsurprisingly, there was no reaction from the empty casket, behind.

Now read on in Episode 27