Small Town Suspicions (Some Very English Murders Book 3) (23 page)

Penny felt a lump in her throat at the sound of her
sister’s raw pain. “Ariadne, you must do whatever it takes to keep you and your
children safe. Look after yourself so that you can look after them. Do what is
right.”

“It’s not easy.”

“The right thing never is,” Penny said with feeling. “But
keep yourselves
safe.
Please. I’ve seen too much … trouble … lately.
Life is short, Ariadne.”

“Feels long right now,” Ariadne said.

And then the line went dead.

* * * *

It was the first of August. The past few days had passed in
a blur, with Francine mostly absent and Penny fulfilling orders from her
website.

Now she was standing outside the Community Hall, which had
been decked out in red, white and blue.

“The bunting was left over from the VE Day commemorations
that we had,” Agatha confessed to Penny. They were loitering on the car parking
area to the side of the hall, watching the general to and fro.

“It looks good,” Penny said. “So is this summer fete an
annual thing? I have to say, you know, the turn-out isn’t great, is it?”

“It’s the summer holidays,” Agatha said. “A lot of folks
have gone away with their kids, eh? But every single year, the town council try
to put on a fete, and every single year, not much happens. You wait until
Christmas though. Now, that is a good show!”

“Here he comes.” Penny waved and Drew held two burgers
aloft as he came towards them.

“Hi, Agatha! How are you? Would you like a burger?”

“No, no, no, thank you.”

Drew passed one to Penny. Agatha made her polite excuses
and wandered off. Drew perched on the low wall between the car park and the
pavement. “Cheer up,” he said. “It’s sunny, and you have food. What more could
you want?”

“It’s so simple for men, isn’t it?”

“That’s proper sexist, that is,” he admonished her.

“Sorry. It’s simple for
you
, then.”

Drew nodded. “I suppose it is. And why not, though? Life
doesn’t have to be all complicated.”

Penny laughed. Drew really was that simple and
straightforward. She raised the half-eaten burger to him in an off-hand toast.
“You are right.” She couldn’t stifle her following sigh, though. “But what a
shame we haven’t avenged Alec Goodwin.”

“
Avenged!
Wow, that sounds heavy. I think you have
to have a sword to do some proper avenging.”

“It is how I see it,” Penny said. “I know he wasn’t
well-liked but he was
someone
, you know? A human being. We’re all
flawed. And everyone deserves justice.”

“They are going to call this the ‘Alec Goodwin Sculpture
Trail’,” Drew said. “Everyone agreed to that.”

“I know, and that’s nice, I suppose.”

“Come on. Have you done with your burger? Let’s go and look
at the first pole.”

Penny balled up the wrapper and passed it to Drew to throw
into a bin. “Lead on.”

* * * *

“How many were completed in the end?” Penny asked.

“All twelve,” Drew replied. “What do you think?”

“Amazing.”

There was a small crowd around the wooden pole. It was
about five feet tall, and rounded like a fence post. It stood on the opposite
side of the road to the community hall, and attached to the top part of the
pole was a curved piece of aluminium with a relief pattern on it. There were
figures, young and old, holding hands.

“This is the first one,” Drew said, “and it shows the ethos
behind the Community Hall.”

“Great. But how will visitors know what it is about, and
how to find the next one?”

“They are having some information boards made up, with
braille and everything. I can’t believe we got all our poles done, and they
haven’t managed to get the boards finished. There will be maps printed as well,
and leaflets.”

“So these poles go all around Glenfield?”

“Yes. The next one is in the open market area. Shall we go
and see?”

Drew and Penny walked along Back Street and between Alf’s
Garage and the covered market, turning left along the High Street towards the
open market. She could see the pole from quite a distance, as the sun shone and
reflected off the aluminium. There were a handful of people looking at it,
including Steve.

“Hey, Steve, how’s it going?” Drew said cheerily.

Steve actually smiled back, and Penny grinned. The sullen
young man had a hint of pride on his face. “Yeah, all right,” he said gruffly.
“Now then, Penny.”

“I love these,” she said, without hesitation. “Well done,
Steve, and you too, Drew.”

“Nah, it were my aunt and your mate Francine,” Steve said.

“You too,” Penny said. “You have been amazing.” She wanted
to say more, to tell him he was brave and maturing and generally wonderful, but
she bit it back. He would have died of embarrassment in front of strangers and
friends alike.

“Yeah, well, thanks,” he muttered, and tried to hide his
smile, but she knew it was enough.

“Now what for you?” she asked. “This will look good on job
applications, won’t it?”

“Maybe, yeah.” He stepped back, and she followed his lead,
drawing away from the others. “Penny, uh, thanks and all that, for not being
all … judgemental. You know, about my studies and stuff.”

“It’s okay. It’s not my place to judge. It’s really not the
end of the world, you know.”

“It felt like it to me,” he said, forcefully. He glanced up
and met her gaze briefly, but looked away. “Cos you, and everyone, all think I
was kicked out for being a bit rubbish, don’t you?”

She’d assumed he had been asked to leave because of missing
classes or something similar, or maybe some violent outbursts in a lecture. She
didn’t say that. She simply asked, “Why didn’t you finish, Steve?”

“I messed up a lot in my second year,” he said. “I were
drinking and partying and being a student, you know? And yeah, so I missed a
load of essays and that. And they called me in and had a right go at me.”

She nodded. “And you pulled yourself together?”

“Yeah. I did. Cos I really, really wanted my degree. I
wanted to prove I could do it.”

“To your family?”

“To me,” he said fiercely. “To
me.
And I was nearly
there, and all. I really was. But then some … lowlife … nicked my
dissertation.” He added a few colourful swearwords, and Penny understood, and
didn’t get offended.

“Did they submit it as their own?”

“Yeah, they did, and the thing was, they were some golden
student all the time, so when it came to the investigation, who got done for
it? Yeah, me.”

“Surely there was evidence. Proof, in your notes and
everything.”

“You’d think so. Thing is, right, my English isn’t the
best. I struggle with my spelling. Not as bad as Barry, you know. He can sign
his name and that’s about it, did you know that? He went to that special
school. But he has turned out okay. Anyway. So my notes were a mess, and my
first draft was a mess, but when Archie stole my work, he had it properly
edited and tidied up. So his essay was like a really, really good version of
mine. And they believed him over me, because I had a bad history. But all the
while, I was innocent.”

“Oh, Steve, that is awful! I feel sick on your behalf.
Surely something can be done…” Penny was already writing strong letters in her
head.

“No, no. It’s kinda all right now. I mean, no, it isn’t,
but I’m moving on, like what you told me and all.”

“I wouldn’t be so forgiving.”

He shrugged. “I can waste a lot of time getting angry,” he
said, “or I can do sommat else with my life. I dunno what, yet, but I’m going
to work for Aunt Ginni and look at what college courses are starting up this autumn.”

“Blacksmithing!” Drew said, interrupting them. He appeared
between them and flung his arms around both their shoulders, pulling them in
close.

“No, gerroff me,” Steve said, pushing him away, and
grinning, and laughing.

* * * *

Penny left Drew with Steve and walked back to the community
hall. Francine was supervising a stall there, and she had promised to keep her
company.

She walked slowly.

Steve’s words and his unfortunate situation played in her
mind. She felt dreadful for him, and wished he would take on the university and
fight the unfairness. But that was his fight, not hers. She had to stay out of
it.

He was innocent, he was innocent,
her brain chanted
at her.

And then it hit her.

What if Mandy had been innocent of that crime, all those
years ago?

On whose evidence was she convicted?

Alec’s.

But what if … like the university … Alec had been misled?
Not by anyone but his own self and his arrogant confidence in his artistic
abilities to recognise and remember a face?

Mandy had said she forgave Alec. She said she’d moved on.
That made more sense if she had been innocent.

And if she had done ten years for a crime she had not
committed, and had somehow found it within herself to move on from that …
wow
,
thought Penny.
She’s a bigger person than I could ever be. I’d have been
furious, for the rest of my natural life.

Like I am angry on Steve’s behalf.

Then she stopped dead on the pavement.
What about Carl,
her husband?

Had he known that Mandy was innocent, and that Alec had –
accidentally or wilfully – been instrumental in convicting the wrong person? If
Carl had known that Mandy was innocent, he would have had every right to want
to visit vengeance upon his former best friend.

And if he had found out … when had he found out?

Penny started walking again, very quickly, and she pulled
out her mobile phone to dial Cath as she went.

* * * *

“Ginni had poet’s narcissus in her shop,” Cath said. “The
evidence doesn’t just point to Carl alone.” She had been at home when Penny
rang, and now she was standing in the Community Hall with Penny and Francine.
Most people were outside, milling around the burger van.

“Ginni has very little motive,” Penny insisted. “Either on
her own part, or on Steve’s behalf.”

“There’s more. Barry also had the chance to obtain the
poison,” Cath said. “He works for various agencies and gangs, doing piecework
in factories and fields.”

“Barry has no motive!”

“Apart from the fact that he was being evicted and he
couldn’t read properly so he couldn’t fight the eviction.”

“He had plenty of people on his side, helping him,” Penny
pointed out. “I met one of his neighbours. That’s why the eviction was taking
so long. You can’t just throw people out of their houses.”

“Hmm. Right, so you’re saying that Alec was mistaken when
he gave evidence to the court?”

“Yes. He had heard the description of the accomplice in the
jewellery heist, and it matched Mandy. But as we know, people can look similar.
Even you can see that Mandy, twenty years ago, looked like Francine does now.”

Cath nodded. “Yes, I can see that. And the van that was
seen there?”

“The white van was filthy with red dust from the Fens. It
can’t have been Ginni’s. She keeps it spotless. Carl has a white van and he
lives out on the Fens.”

Cath rolled her eyes. “Today is my day off. I had plans,
you know? Plans that involved moving between the sofa and the fridge. I have
packed my husband and the kids off to a swimming pool party and we were going
to the cinema later this afternoon.” She sighed. “Right. Come on with me up to
the station. If we get this over with, I might still make it to the film, and
be a normal mother.”

“Normal?” Penny said, laughing.

“Shut up. Let’s go.”

Francine abandoned her stall in the Community Hall. “It
will be fine. Who would want to steal some leaflets and a display about the
project?” she asked as she followed Cath and Penny into the police station.

“You’d be amazed,” Cath said. “Thieves took the lead from
the roof of Wanstead Police Station, you know.”

“That is class.”

“That is
crime
,” said the dour desk sergeant who was
in his permanent place behind the plastic screen.

“Do you have a twin?” Penny asked.

“No. I just loathe my wife and prefer to work.”

“I have met your wife and she is delightful,” Cath said
sharply. “And you don’t deserve her. Is Inspector Travis about?”

“He is. He got your call, and went to fill himself with
coffee. He said he was going to need it. Interview room six. Go on through.”

Interview room six was empty. Penny and Francine were left
alone while Cath went off in search of Inspector Travis, and at first they
filled the time by talking about the Sculpture Trail.

Then silence fell. Penny watched Francine carefully. She
was pacing around, twisting her hands together. Eventually Penny said, “Now,
I’m only just opening up to reading other people’s body language, but is
something on your mind, Francine?”

“Um, yeah. I think it’s time I moved out. I know I
mentioned it before. Well, I’m ready to go now.”

Penny blinked. Her heart thumped, and she felt a little
odd.

This was good news, right?

“Oh. I see. Where are you going?”

“Are you okay with this?” Francine said.

“Yes. Yes, of course I am! You must do what you feel best …
why do I feel like we’re having a really difficult conversation about something
that should be easy?”

Francine smiled sheepishly. “I know you struggled when I
turned up and didn’t leave. I really needed the space and I am so grateful to
you. I didn’t mean to stay so long, but when you needed me …”

“I needed you?”

“You did.”

Penny sighed, and she was still feeling funny. “I think I
did. Thank you. But it’s okay. It is time to move on.”