Cherringham--Death on a Summer Night

by Neil Richards

  “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.

  10. A Deadly Threat

  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 gu
y — 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.

  “—she didn’t want any of it. All those bloody awards at school. ‘Little Miss Perfect’, who thought she was too good for me.”

  “You ended it?”

  Another look from Ollie.

  “Didn’t say that, now did I? We ended it. Both of us heading in two different directions. The whole thing turned pointless. It was over. That was it.”

  Jack waited a bit before the next question. Rubbing his cheek as if a thought had just come to him … while in truth he knew exactly what he was going to say … and the reaction he’d be looking for.

  “You wouldn’t have wanted any harm to come to Dinah Taylor, now would you?”

  “Bloody hell!”

  Ollie threw down his cigarette butt, and crushed it into the sand as if squashing a giant insect.

  “We know who did something to Dinah, Mr Brennan, now don’t we? That drugged-up bastard Tim Bell.”

  Ollie raised a finger.

  “Don’t you even suggest that I would have done anything to hurt Dinah.”

  Jack nodded. And despite the raised finger, the bite to Ollie’s words, he also felt something else.

  After all these years, Ollie still had feelings for his girlfriend from long ago. And now Jack also doubted that Ollie had ended that relationship willingly.

  Could he have been so in love with Dinah that … somehow something bad could have happened?

  Didn’t seem likely — but it had to remain a possibility.

  Jack had only one more question for the assistant plumber.

  “One more thing that seems — well — strange to me,”

  Ollie … a bit calmed down now … nodded.

  “Dinah had big plans, as you say. Didn’t see herself maybe in this small village, someone’s wife.”

  Another nod.

  “So — why would she go out with Tim Bell? I mean, he didn’t seem like university material. It … it doesn’t make sense, does it?”

  A sad smile from Ollie.

  “You see, I’m with you there, Mr Brennan. But as much as Dinah wanted to get out of Cherringham, she also had someone trying to control her, someone who maybe wanted her to settle here more than even I did.”

  Jack nodded.

  Then: “Let me guess … her father?”

  “Her mother, too. Both of them trying to control their ‘star pupil.’ So you ask me why she would go out with a Tim Bell? What’s that you Americans say, Mr Brennan? ‘Do the math’?”

  “To get back at them?”

  “Yeah. Absolutely. Dinah had that in her, too. Feeling them trying to control her and her wanting to let them know that was never … ever … going to happen. Not to her.”

  And what Ollie said made Jack think differently about Vincent Taylor. Could all his anger, his hatred towards Tim Bell, also reflect the fact that he was — in some tragic way — responsible?

  He wouldn’t be the first parent to make his daughter do something foolish. Something dangerous.

  Jack stood up.

  “Thanks for talking, Ollie.”

  “He’s the bastard that did it, Mr Brennan.”

  “Maybe,” Jack said. “Could very well be. But—”

  And then Jack heard the squeal of a siren. Then another. Coming from a different direction. Police? Fire? Ambulance? All three?

  A rare event in Cherringham, and Jack’s gut told him that he’d better see where all those sirens were converging.

  “I’m going to run, Ollie …”

  And Jack meant that literally, as he raced out of the lot, into the shop, and past Pete Bull — standing at the door — just as a fire engine raced by, a blur of red and yellow, siren screaming.

  *

  Jack got to his Sprite and hopped in just in time to see the fire engine turn … where he most feared it would turn.

  Down Gibraltar Terrace.

  A quick check of the rear-view mirror, and he pulled out, telling himself that he knew something would happen, and now it had.

  And when he took the sharp turn on the road that led to Tim Bell’s house — he saw the fire engine stopped.

  Firemen racing around, the hose already uncoiled.

  Alan Rivers’ police car was parked on the other side of the road, lights flashing as Alan stood out on the street ready to keep any crowds away.

  But that was the strange thing.

  Fire on the street — but there was no crowd out watching.

  No one.

  Not, Jack gu
essed, when anyone standing by could be accused of having set the roaring fire that now blazed on the front of Bell’s house.

  Jack stopped well away, got out, and walked quickly over to the house.

  It looked as if someone had covered the mailbox and post with kerosene, gasoline … some accelerant that made the fire give off dark smudgy smoke that alternated with the steady, long licks of bright orange flame shooting up to the sky.

  Not a fire to destroy the place.

  But a warning.

  And the people on this street? Probably looking at the blaze from inside their homes, pulling aside the curtains.

  Peeking.

  Just as Jack reached the scene, he saw Bell standing outside his house watching the team of firemen shoot water on the fire. Even the chief — Jim Barnes — was working the hose, helping guide the stream of water that, though massive, still had to struggle with the fire feeding off whatever had caused it to erupt so explosively.

  Jack saw Alan walk over to Tim Bell who stood there, face impassive, almost as if he too expected something like this.

  Then Jack turned, seeing another car racing down the road.

  Sarah.

  *

  She had parked behind the Sprite, not at all surprised to see Jack here.

  Then she ran up to him, the only witness to the fire besides the firemen, Alan, and Bell himself.

  Jack turned to her as she ran and the torch-like fire finally sputtered to a stop.

  “Sarah. Thought something like this would happen,” Jack said.

  “Soon as I heard the siren, I knew … felt like it was about Bell.”

  “Yeah. Find out anything from Dinah’s friends?”

  And Sarah told him about her meeting with Jen and Michelle, the night at the carnival when they last saw their good friend, and the dashed hopes of Dinah’s music teacher, Rik Chase.

  Jack nodded.

  As usual, taking it all in.

  “And you? Who do you think has done this?”

  “Her father? And her ex-boyfriend? Both of them could have easily done this — or arranged for it to be done …”

  Jack gestured to the dark, sodden site of the fire, the mailbox and post reduced to a black skeleton.

  “And I’m afraid this might not be the end of it,” Jack said.

  Chief Barnes had his crew coiling the hose while Alan stood with Bell.

  “Let’s see if Alan will let us chat with him a bit.”