Cherringham--Death on a Summer Night by Neil Richards Read Free Book Online Page B

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