Cherringham--Death on a Summer Night (6 page)

Amazingly, they had both agreed to meet and talk about those days. On a hunch, Sarah decided not to tell them that they would be talking together.

She looked at her watch. Half past two, and Sarah felt that now the barmaid was giving her odd looks, sitting alone, middle of the afternoon, nursing a half pint of lager.

Which is when the front door opened, and Jen walked in.

Or blew in, more like it. Shaking her head — and her hair — as she barrelled over to the table.

“Sorry! All set to leave and the boss wanted to talk about my schedule. I tell you,
I
should be running that place.”

Sarah smiled. “Thank you. For coming to talk.”

The woman pulled a chair back.

“Fancy a drink? Or maybe a cup of tea?” Sarah asked.

“Oh, sure. Half of Stella wouldn’t hurt.”

Which is when the pub door opened again, and someone Sarah didn’t know walked in.

Guessing it was Michelle.

Which Jen Foote quickly confirmed.

“You? What are
you
doing here?”

The hairdresser’s barked query made Michelle stop in her tracks.

As much as Jen seemed to be struggling to be as “glam” as her age would allow, Michelle looked to have long ago surrendered that battle.

Wearing a drab grey T-shirt, un-tucked, hanging over frayed cargo pants and sandals.

All dolled up for the Angel.

Even from a distance, the woman’s eyes looked sunken, sad.

“I—I didn’t know you were going to be here …” Michelle said quietly in the empty pub.

Jen leaned close to Sarah.

“Stole my boyfriend, she did — back in the day. Then married the loser.” Jen gave a sharp tilt of her head. “You can see just how well
that
worked out for her.”

Sarah nodded, stood up.

“I wanted you both here. To talk about Dinah, what you remember about those days.”

“’Cos that nasty piece of work Tim Bell’s back, right?” Jen said.

Sarah nodded. “Right.”

The barmaid put their drinks on the bar, which Sarah retrieved and brought back to the table.

And this uncomfortable reunion was back on track, the past about to come to life in the shadows of the pub.

*

“I—I think it was to get back at her ex-boyfriend, Ollie. Or maybe her dad. Both of them were
so
controlling,” Michelle said, sipping her beer.

Jen nodded, a truce of some kind having settled in as they talked about the days leading to Dinah’s disappearance.

“She was such — well — a goody two-shoes. And going out with Tim Bell? Everyone knew what he was all about — not Dinah’s type at all. So smart, talented …” Jen laughed. “Not sure why she hung around with the likes of us.”

The hairdresser had looked over at Michelle, and that — at last — made Michelle smile.

“We always made her laugh …” the sad woman said.

Hard to see that now,
Sarah thought.

“That we did. Remember that time when we put one of those rubber snakes in Mrs Gimmel’s handbag? Thought she was going to croak right there and then, I did!”

And now they both laughed. The stolen boyfriend turned middle-aged husband maybe now forgiven.

“Do you think … did you
believe
that Tim Bell could have done something to hurt Dinah?”

They both went silent. Then Michelle spoke first.

“He liked his drink, the girls …” A look to Jen … “and there were stories of drugs. But he was cute …”

“No doubting that.”

“As I said,” Jen continued, “Maybe Dinah wanted to — dunno — spread her wings a bit. But would Tim Bell hurt her? It didn’t seem to make sense at first.”

The hairdresser then turned to Sarah. “But I watch a lot of crime shows — you know? Mysteries. And you never know what people are capable of, isn’t that right, Sarah? I mean — you actually deal with this stuff.”

“Yes,” Sarah said, weighing her words. “But always there is a motive. A reason. There just didn’t seem to be one with Tim Bell. Or much evidence either.”

“But there was,” Jen said, “the blood, bits of a torn dress. He had our Dinah’s blood right on him, didn’t he?”

Quiet for a few seconds. Then Michelle, finishing her beer — a bit too quickly, Sarah thought — cleared her throat.

“Yes … course, there was all that. But you’re right, Sarah. It never did make sense to me. Like you said …
why?”

Again quiet.

Outside of some doubts here, nothing really useful.

But as Sarah learned from Jack, quiet itself could eventually be useful.

Michelle went on: “Hard to think who’d want to harm lovely Dinah. Everyone liked her, her teachers—”

“Especially that Mr Chase!” Jen said. “I think we all liked him quite a bit too!”

And Sarah knew the man they were talking about.

Mr Chase. The school’s music teacher.

Had to be near a kid himself at the time if he was teaching this lot, Sarah thought.

“Mr Chase was your music teacher?”

“Oh yes. Think it was his first year. And with Dinah’s talent, he spent a lot of time with her, ‘grooming her for greatness’,” Jen said.

“Apple of his eye,” Michelle said.

And Sarah had to wonder was there something she wasn’t saying?

About Dinah, about the music teacher?

Probably not. But Sarah knew from her own days at school: a trusted teacher could also become a trusted confidante.

Someone you could tell secrets to.

And if Dinah had any secrets, she might have told her mentor.

“You think I should talk to him as well?”

“Can’t hurt,” was Michelle’s non-committal reply. “Though I doubt he knows anything. He was as crushed as the rest of us.”

“I don’t remember him at school,” said Sarah. “But I was a few years below you.”

“Just teaches privately now, I think. Doing well though, from what I hear.”

All beers gone save for hers, Sarah was about to end this reunion … wondering if the two friends turned enemies would revert to their previous silence …

When she had one more question about that summer night.

“That night. Hot. Like this, yes?”

“God — you couldn’t breathe.”

“We just melted,” Michelle said.

“But back then, it was also carnival week, yes?”

They nodded.

“And with that heat, the carnival had to be jam-packed I imagine, everyone there, trying to stay cool, getting on rides? That night … did you two go there?”

They said “yes” in near unison.

“And did you see Dinah there that night, with Tim Bell?”

“I did,” Michelle said. “On the rides, playing the games …”

Jen added: “And I also saw Tim talking to one of the carnies like they were old pals. Huddled together, kind of secret-like.”

“And what did you think of that?”

“Well — you know what those guys are like, drifting from town to town. Rumour was if you wanted a little hash — or stronger — they had it.”

“So Tim might have been buying something to get high?”

Then Jen Foote looked away. She raised a finger in the air, a discovery made.

“One other thing. Funny, I didn’t really think of it until just now. But that bloke on the rides … I think his name was Charlie. You know how some of the girls like to be daring and flirt with the good-looking ones?”

Maybe Jen herself,
Sarah thought
.

“
Anyway … That night I remember
him giving Dinah the eye, grinning and all that, and then Tim giving him a poke. Like he wasn’t too happy about it.”

Then the hairdresser looked from Sarah to Michelle, then back again.

“Think that might be important?”

Sarah smiled. “You’ve seen the shows. You never know.”

“Right. Well, I’m due back. More magic to work on people’s heads!”

Sarah doubted that Michelle Lang was due anywhere.

“Thank you both.”

Michelle nodded. “Let us know … would you … if you find out anything. We both –” she took a breath, looking at her old friend — “loved Dinah. Miss her still to this day.”

“Too right,” Jen added.

“I will.”

Then Sarah watched the old friends walk out separately, reunion over, back to battle lines.

At least for now
… she guessed.

When Jack walked into Pete Bull’s plumbing supplies store, Pete sat behind the counter, head down in stacks of paper.

And Jack noticed that when Pete looked up and saw him, he didn’t get the warm reception that he would have expected.

And since Pete was about as solid a “bloke” as you could ask for, Jack thought …
guess I really am stirring up things in the village.

“Pete? Hey … how are you?”

Pete looked up and managed a small smile.

“Fine, Jack. Um, anything I can do for you?”

Just the slightest chill — but noticeable.

Pete had been at the Ploughman’s when the mob circled Tim Bell. He hadn’t joined that mob, but maybe his sympathies were with them.

“Yeah. Pete, I was hoping I could get a few words in with Ollie Nash. He works for you, yes?”

Pete nodded. Almost reluctantly he put down the stack of papers, and stood up.

“Ollie’s out on a job, Should be back any minute.”

Jack nodded, smiled. “Mind if I wait?”

The slightest hesitation.

“Sure. No worries.”

It seemed like Pete was about to sit back down, return to his pile of paperwork; the curse of operating your own small business with no help.

But — in mid-turn — he stopped and turned back to Jack.

“Jack, mind if I tell you something?”

“Sure, Pete. Anything you have to say will be worth hearing.”

That made the plumber smile. “Maybe not this time. See, Jack, this stuff you’re doing, with Tim Bell, dredging up the past … it’s not sitting well with a lot of people.”

“You as well?”

Pete Bull paused. “Well, to be honest, Jack — I just don’t get it. The court found Bell guilty. That poor girl disappeared twenty-five years ago. And now, it seems like—”

“Like I want to clear him? Get him off the hook?”

Pete nodded. “Seems that way.”

Jack took in a deep breath, nodded, and thought of how he’d respond to this person who he thought of as a friend.

“Let me have a go at explaining.”

“Go on.”

“My whole life has been dedicated to putting guilty people in jail. See, that’s what I did. And if there was a chance that maybe — just maybe — I had the wrong person, I would keep digging.”

Jack laughed a bit at that.

“My supervisors weren’t always too pleased either.”

That — at least — made Pete smile.

“And occasionally, you know what? Everyone thought they had the guilty guy — and they didn’t.”

“So you think Bell is innocent?”

“Well — my turn to be honest, Pete — I don’t know. But I do know it’s mighty odd that he’d come back to his town after serving time. Not something a guilty ex-con would do. If I find out he’s guilty, I’d be the first to tell anyone. But, you know … what if he isn’t?”

Pete Bull nodded at the logic. Jack guessed Pete might be friends with some of the people who knew Tim Bell from those days.

“You know, Jack, people aren’t happy about any of this. And people are also talking about Sarah as well. What’s a single mum doing, trying to stir things up, protecting that killer?”

Sarah.

Jack hadn’t thought about that. How she lives in this village.

Her family, decades of connections.

Maybe she
shouldn’t
be part of this.

But he thought:
try telling her that …

“I know people are angry, Pete. I just want to get at the truth. And everyone might ask themselves this question: what if the person who did something to Dinah was still out there, still in Cherringham?”

That gave Pete Bull pause.

Because Jack knew — that was the big question.

If Dinah was killed, if that’s what happened … what if the killer was still here, all these years later?

“Just — Jack — be careful. And for Sarah too. I for one would hate to see anything bad happen, to either of you, with everyone’s tempers running so high.”

“Always Pete. And thanks for the concern. Really. Means a lot.”

And Jack felt that he and Pete were back on solid footing — and that felt good.

Which is when the bell over the shop door — so old school — rang, as a man walked in, his shirt with a stitched name above the pocket … “Ollie.”

*

Like everyone else, Ollie didn’t seem at all eager to talk with Jack about the past.

But with Jack’s reconnection with Pete, the boss suggested Ollie go take a break, and talk with Jack in the yard behind the shop, filled with small sheds bursting with pipes, sinks, and other plumbing supplies of all kinds.

Ollie led him to a corner of the yard where two upturned crates served as makeshift seats, the sandy dirt around them dotted with cigarette butts.

Ollie sat down, and Jack did as well.

The plumber’s assistant dug out a cigarette, and lit it, taking a big drag.

“Ollie. Just wanted to ask you a few questions.”

The man nodded. He’d probably heard what went down at the Ploughman’s.

Jack grinned. “I know … I’m not making myself the most popular guy in the village.”

Still nothing from the man who seemed so tightly coiled.

“You were Dinah’s boyfriend back then, right?”

Then, with another deep drag, Ollie looked up.

“Back then Mr Brennan? You mean twenty-five years ago, a bloody lifetime ago?”

Jack nodded.

“I was her ‘ex’, if you want to know the truth. We’d broken up a good week or so before.”

“I heard that. Can you tell me what caused the breakup?”

“Sure. I’ll tell you. Dinah Taylor thought she was too good for me. I was making plans for the future. All set to learn a trade –” he gestured around him –“like this, plumber, electrician. There was going to be kids, a little house. But Dinah … she—”

He looked away.

Suddenly — Jack guessed — twenty-five years ago seemed like yesterday.