The Scent of Death

Fifteen

Plot reminder: Despite Ben's misgivings, Jennifer and he have decided not to inform the authorities of the anonymous coordinate in the hope the person might send them further indications.

*

Those next few days would require patience, I suspected. A calm head and steady nerves as I waited for the next development, the bugle blast of a call to arms. In the meantime, there was the small matter of a living to make.

And so the morning following Ben's visit, Monday, I tried to regain some sense of normality to my life. Firstly, a supermarket run to replenish the grim bareness of fridge and cupboards, this followed by a good sweep and tidy up. After that, I finally got round to reading the email my agent Abigail had sent several days earier outlining possible next projects she could hook me up with. As I did so, my pulse briefly raced at the sound of mail cascading through the letterbox... Nothing though, just more junk and bills.

The most interesting of Abigail's offered work projects was a set of cartoony times table cards for a publisher specialising in primary education. As I settled down at my work desk and began sketching out initial ideas, I found it increasingly difficult to concentrate however. As Ben had informed me the previous morning, Kayleigh's funeral was at that very moment taking place.

The murderer - was he there I wondered? Some anonymous face amongst the church pews or the gathering outside. Feigning an anguish he didn't feel, a sense of community he didn't share.

Smiling inside. Drunk on black memories.

*

Ben's phonecall came just as I was pouring a packet a dried risotto into a pan for lunch. Switching off the gas, I stepped out onto the patio, felt Dudley's nose push against the back of my knees as he swayed through behind me, bounded off to roll around on the grass for a while.

"Editor's given us the rubber stamp," Ben announced excitedly.

The rubber stamp to do what, I wondered? His breathless urgency negated the possibility of seeking clarification however.

"I've already prepared the text and had the graphics guy knock something up. Print deadline's approaching though so if we want to get this out today you need to head out to your nearest phone shop sharpish. A second phone - just a cheap one will do - and a SIM. Got it?"

It was only after I had assured him yes, I'd got it, that he finally deigned to fill me in on what the hell this was all about - an explanation I listened to with certain misgivings.

And thus it was that page six of that afternoon's edition of the Echo featured in its top right corner an announcement entitled '*Good Dog*!' To either side of the heading were a collage of various breeds, the text below reading as follows:

Your mutt barks too much? Chews your slippers? Digs up your flower beds? Just plain drives you mad?

If the answer to any of those questions is yes, you might be interested in our new regular feature starting next Monday. Expert dog handler Jennifer Hulse will respond to your questions and concerns covering all aspects of canine education.

Please text message your questions directly to Jennifer at the following number: 071125476953

The announcement would run in each of the week's daily editions, Ben had informed me. A direct invitation to the letter sender to please get in touch. We could only hope he'd take us up on it.

*

I found myself thinking about Kaleigh's mother often that week. Working on the times table cards at my desk, waiting for the kettle to boil, watching Dudley hurtle after his tennis ball in the park - my mind would just up and drift, float along the A967 to Tannerston, that humble semi-detached along Redwood Drive with its sad, moribund front garden.