A Dedicated Man

SIX

They were sipping Coke and talking about boys under the scornful lascivious eyes of the old Greek. Hazel Kirk had had her first date with Terry Preston, son of the local grocer, the previous night, and she was titillating her friends with an account of her attempt to keep his wandering hands from her most private parts. Once in a while she would blush while describing the indefinable feelings she had had when she failed in her task.

But Sally Lumb, usually so interested – not to mention condescending – during such discussions, seemed preoccupied. The others noticed, but Hazel, for one, was not going to be done out of her moment of glory simply because madam was sulking.

Anne Downes, perhaps more sensitive to mood and certainly less interested in boys and their inexplicable desires, waited patiently until Kathy Chalmers had stopped giggling and tried to change the subject.

‘They haven’t caught him yet, you know,’ she announced, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

‘Who?’ Hazel asked abruptly, annoyed at being dragged away from other, more important thoughts.

‘The killer, of course. Who else? The man who killed Mr Steadman.’

‘How do you know it was a man?’ Hazel asked. It was a question she’d heard on countless television programmes.

‘Stands to reason, doesn’t it,’ Anne snorted. ‘It’d have to be a pretty strong woman to slug him and carry him all the way up that field below Crow Scar.’

‘Mrs Butterworth could have done it,’ Kathy chipped in. They all giggled. Mrs Butterworth was the butcher’s wife, an enormous red-faced woman who towered above her meek hunched husband.

‘Don’t be silly,’ Anne said, allowing herself a smile. ‘Why should she do it? Besides, the effort would probably give her a heart attack.’

‘Jimmy Collins told me the police have been talking to Penny Cartwright and the major,’ Kathy said. ‘He said the old man didn’t give them much time.’

‘How would Jimmy Collins know?’ Anne asked.

‘He was in the shop downstairs. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” my mother always says. I think Penny did it. I think her and Mr Steadman were having a torrid love affair and when she wanted him to leave his wife and marry her he wouldn’t do it so she killed him.’

‘Don’t be so stupid,’ Anne said. ‘If it was really like that she’d have killed Mrs Steadman, not him.’

That silenced Kathy, but Hazel picked up the thread. ‘Well if that wasn’t why,’ she said, ‘there could have been plenty of other reasons. Everybody knows she went away for ages and took drugs and was pro.. . prom…’

‘Promiscuous?’ suggested Anne.

‘Yes, promiscuous, clever clogs – that’s what I said. Maybe she had his baby or he knew something about her past. They’ve known each other a long time, you know.’

The others were silent, taking it all in. ‘You might be right about the last bit,’ Anne allowed, ‘but she wouldn’t kill him just because she had his baby, would she? I think it was Jack Barker.’

‘Why would he do it?’ Kathy asked.

‘Maybe he was just doing research for his next book,’ Hazel joked.

‘And maybe he’s in love with Penny Cartwright and wanted to get Mr Steadman out of the way so he could have her all to himself,’ Anne said. ‘And there’s another thing: I heard the police gave Teddy Hackett a nasty time the other day.’

‘He certainly looked a little pale when I saw him,’ Hazel added.

‘My dad heard them arguing a couple of weeks ago – Hackett and Mr Steadman,’ Anne said.

‘But they can’t think he did it,’ Hazel reasoned, ‘or they’d have arrested him in custody by now. I bet he’s got a skintight alibi.’

‘It’s “watertight”, you fool.’ Anne laughed. ‘And he can’t be “arrested in custody”, only “in custody”.’

‘All right, Miss Know-it-all. So what?’

‘I wonder who she was,’ Kathy said. ‘Teddy Hackett’s alibi.’

And they all laughed. To them, Hackett, with his droopy moustache, receding hairline, gold medallions and beer belly hanging over his fancy belt buckle, was a figure of ridicule, the male equivalent of mutton dressed as lamb.

‘What do you think, Sally?’ Anne asked. ‘You’re very quiet today.’

‘I’ve got a few ideas of my own,’ Sally replied slowly and quietly. ‘But I’ve got to check them out.’

And with that she walked out, leaving them all gaping again, not knowing whether to believe her or not.