Case 451: A masked visitor

It was December in Peebles. The last of the lunchtime High School students were drifting back over the road, scattering pastry crumbs and sweet wrappers on the pavement outside the boarded up shop that used to be Greggs the bakers. A thin sleet blew against my window panes, rattling the broken blinds. The sun had already disappeared over the horizon. I tried cranking up the ancient metal radiator against the wall by my desk, but it just made a gurgling sound and stayed stubbornly lukewarm. 
Business had been slow and my cash reserves were at rock bottom. Crime seems to have plummeted since all this pandemic business began. I needed to find a job, and soon.
I was looking up the street to see if there was a space under the canopy in the line for a Forsyth’s sausage roll when I heard the sound of footsteps in the stairwell. It sounded like a pair of high heels, and they were heading towards my office. I took a long last draw on my cigarette before putting on a face mask.

Come in! The door’s unlocked.. 

Mr Barr?

She was tall, she was dark, she was wearing a blood red dress that hugged her body so tight it left little to the imagination, but my imagination got to work anyway. Her matching red mask was stretched so tightly across her mouth I could see her perfectly formed lips moving seductively against the fabric, straining to be set free.

Mr Barr, I understand you can investigate difficult problems..

That’s right.

Is it alright if I slip out of this mask, Mr Barr? It’s so restricting.

Of course. Mine’s started to get a bit tight as well; why don’t we both take them off?

I breathed out the smoke from my cigarette and breathed in a lungful of her intoxicating perfume.

What can I do for you, Miss..?

Red. Ruby Red, but just call me Ruby, please.

Of course Miss.. er.. of course, Ruby. What can I do for you?

Take a closer look at my mask, won’t you Mr Barr?

Your mask?

Yes. Here, take it. I’m sure you’ll agree it’s an excellent mask.

She handed me the mask she’d just taken off. It was warm, soft and silky to the touch, unlike the rough blue paper mask I’d just dropped in the rubbish bin beside me.

Yes, it’s a very nice mask, Miss.. er.. Ruby.

It’s made of the finest wool grown right here in the Manor Valley. It’s double-layered, with a gusset for a high-micron antibacterial filter, it’s designed to last five years and it’s completely biodegradable. It’s licensed for health professionals but fashionable for any social occasion.

I see. That’s very impressive, Ruby. What’s this got to do with me? Are you selling these masks?

I make them, Mr Barr. In my industrial unit at South Parks. I employ six local Peebles people who cut and sew masks and aprons. We also make sterile gloves, face shields and cover-alls, all from locally produced materials. 

So, you make PPE? 

That’s right.  And I need your help, Mr Barr. Something’s going on and I need your help to put it right. 

What’s that?

Government contracts, Mr Barr. You can’t sell PPE without a contract, and I can’t get one.

I see.

Just about every High Street shop in this town sells PPE under a Government contract, Mr Barr. Rogerson’s shoe shop, Forsyth’s the butchers, the Key Store, the Co-op, Castle Warehouse, Caldwell’s ice cream, Breeze Art and the Central Bar; they ALL sell PPE for the Government, Mr Barr. How on earth does a shoe shop and an ice cream parlour qualify to sell PPE while a manufacturer of the stuff doesn’t?

And why can’t you get a contract?

That’s the mystery, Mr Barr. I’ve tried and tried and I just get told there are no contracts available. Then the next day another corner store in Peebles gets one. 

Can’t you supply these shops with the PPE they’re supplying to Government?

Oh Mr Barr, I’ve been down that road. They’re all getting their PPE from another supplier and I tell you, it’s not a patch on mine. Look, I’ll show you.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out another mask. She handed it over. It was rough to the touch, crudely made compared to the smooth silky item she’d handed me earlier.

I see what you mean, Ruby; this one’s mass-produced and doesn’t feel very comfortable. And they’re all selling the same stuff?

They are.

The thing is, I’m not sure there’s anything here for me to investigate. It’s really a job for your local MP, don’t you think?

Oh Mr Barr, I’ve tried that already. I went to see my local MP, Mr Mundane..

Mundane?

Isn’t he Mundane?

He is, but his name’s Mundell

Oh; is he hyphenated?

I understand he is, a lot of the time.

Well anyway I went to see him and all he did was read out quotations from Boris Johnson’s speeches. He didn’t seem to be able to say anything for himself. And now he refuses to see me at all. I don’t know what else to do, Mr Barr, and that’s why I’ve come to see you. I think there’s something rotten going on, and I want you to find out what it is. I don’t know where else to turn.

I’ll tell you what, Ruby, I can make some enquiries but there’s no guarantees.

that’s all I ask, Mr Barr. Thank you.

It’s cash up front and expenses are extra.

Of course

She stood up, taking another silky red mask from her pocket and slipping it on. She slowly lifted the hem of her blood red dress and twisted her fingers into the top of a black suspender belt, somehow producing a tight roll of twenty pound notes. She peeled off half a dozen and laid them on the desk. Even from two metres away I could tell they were still warm.

Will this be enough?

That’s plenty, thanks Miss.. er.. Ruby. I’ll see what I can find out and give you a call.

That’s wonderful, Mr Barr. You’ll find my number on the label inside the mask I gave you. You can keep that one, if you like.

I’ll keep it close by me, Ruby. Thanks.

And with that, she was gone.