20. The Deaf and the Blind

Two disabkled ladies wanf to report a murder...

Never had Mavis Waldprf felt so discombobulated on account of having been dimly aware that a murder had been committed in her actual presence and to a man she rather liked.

She hadn’t as much as seen it because she could barely see anything, but she had felt the weight of the vicar as he had collapsed onto her, and she had enough sense to realise that he must be dead. Not collapsed and unconscious, but dead. He wasn’t breathing or she would have sensed that, either hearing it or even feeling the warmth of his breath as it wafted over her skin.

And she had known at least one thing about the killer. It was a man who favoured a particularly familiar fragrance in the form of an aftershave lotion that she had never found particularly pleasant. So a man had killed the vicar, and she worked out that he had used a vicious and sharp bladed knife because as she had felt for some pulse somewhere, she had touched it’s cold metal handle.

She must report it to the police. That’s most assuredly what she must do, all men who were murderers should be locked away for ever, and it was the duty of every citizen to help make sure that they were.

But she knew her own limitations. Equipped with a shiny bright white stick she could navigate familiar routes, but the police station, though fairly central in town, was off her personal beaten track.

There was someone who wasn’t, though: her friend and neighbour, Zoe Pancras. They were good friends, of a similar age and equipped with what amounted to complementary handicaps. Whereas Mavis had barely any vision at all, Zoe was as good as being profoundly deaf despite the ancient hearing aid that she swore was perfect for her. But Zoe was probably the more adventurous of the two of them. She had a vital, outgoing personality, was prone to laughter at the silliest of things, and really liked Mavis.

So when Mavis popped round, Zoe could see in an instant that something was troubling her friend.

“What is it, duckie?” she asked in a concerned loud voice, an expression of sympathy on her face, though Mavis couldn’t quite make it out.

“I’ve seen a murder, our Zoe,” she shouted..

“What? On the telly?” asked Zoe, “not that the picture on our telly’s much to write home about, might as well not be switched on, but I know there are murders on it.”

“I have it for the radio which plays through it,” bellowed Mavis.

“So how come you saw a murder, then, duckie?” asked a curious Zoe.

“I was in the church doing my duty,” Mavis shouted at her, “dusting the pews and hoping not to break anything, and the vicar was sort of sitting near me…”

“Perving at you?” grinned Zoe, “like I know he does...”.

“I dunno. I’m half blind,” yelled Mavis, meaning that some things are too personal and private to be discussed in the same breath as murder

“Three quarters I’d say,” cackled Zoe, “so where did you see this murder, then, duckie?”

“In the church, and it were the vicar as was killed,” sighed Mavis, and the memory of what she had experienced brought a trickle of tears to her ageing eyes.

“How come?” asked Zoe.

“There he was, the vicar, leaning over me, sort of, and sitting in one of the pews in the church, and suddenly I felt him collapse. Yes, that’s what he did: collapsed, and I could feel this knife handle sticking out of him, then I heard this hand grab it and pull it out, and the stink of his aftershave, not the vicars, he don’t like stinking, and I knew as the vicar was dead.. I need to see the coppers, to tell them about it, but I can never find my way going to the cop shop corner of town…”

“I believe you, ducky, and it’s important as you tell the truth to them coppers,” agreed Zoe, “so it’s a lovely afternoon and I’ll tell you what: I’ll guide you to the cop-shop. Between us we should be able to find our way!”

And that was what they did, slowly making their way down familiar streets until Zoe guided Mavis the last part of what was quite a tortuous route for two elderly ladies even though it was a lovely day. But they arrived there with no fuss and somehow located the reception desk.

“I want to report a murder,” declared Mavis.

“And I’m with her to confirm it,” added Zoe.

“A murder, you say? What murder?” asked the officer, PC Jack Nellar, behind the desk, suddenly alert because murders were all the talk of this particular day being suddenly in unbelievable abundance.

But the glory of it wasn’t going to be all his because DI Glumpy overheard the conversation.

“Excuse me, ladies,” he said, having approached them on what was a blind side for both of them.

“Eh?” ejaculated Mavis, “is someone there?” and,

“Someone’s whispering,” added Zoe, and then seeing the DI added, “And who are you, sonny?”

“Did I overhear you saying the murder word?” he asked.

“What’s he mumbling about?” asked Zoe.

“It’s all right, duckie, I’ll sort this,” shouted Mavis, peering round for someone to talk to.

“Well?” asked the DI.

“It was me who spoke. MY friend’s a bit hard of hearing,” explained Mavis, “you see, I clean some of the church, and I was having a conversation with the Reverend Haddock, or Harry as I call him, when a bloke came in and stabbed him! Yes, that’s what happened… stabbed him!”

“Ah, we know about that,” nodded the DI, it was reported to us some time ago. And you were there? You saw the murder?”

Mavis held up her white stick and Zoe put in quite loudly, “she’s half blind, so seeing’s not so likely.”

“But you said a bloke, which implies that you saw him to know what, er, sex he was,” explained the officer.

“No. I smelt him. His aftershave. No woman would want to stink like that!” said Mavis, “It helps, when you’re a bit on the blind side if your nose works. It was a bloke, and no mistake.”

“She knows what manner of killer it was,” shouted Zoe, “Our Mavis has a really good nose.

“Well,” grunted DO Glumpy, “I’m sure the officer at the desk here will gladly tae a note of what you’ve said, but we have the murderer in custody, and I’m afraid to tell you it’s a young woman and not a man, and as far as I can tell she doesn’t smell of anything.”

“Then she ain’t the killer,” sniffed Mavis, “I know what I smelt, and it was a bloke.”

“But if you didn’t actually see…” murmured Glumpy.

Zoe lip-read that comment and it made her furious. “Just because she’s not as young as you you reckon she’s daft, and she ain’t,” she shouted, “and if she says she smelt a bloke, then she smelt a bloke, and if she says the bloke she smelt was the murderer, then he was just that! Her eyes might not be great, but her heart’s in the right place and so is her nose!”

“Good day, ladies, and thank you for trying to help, but if you carry on like this I’ll have to arrest you for arresting police time!” snarled the DI, “Now be off with you!”

© Peter Rogerson, 08.06.24