He was the theatrical type of killer, she thought, and Charlie Rattle the disorganized sort. Perhaps it was poetic justice.
Charmian and her team had dinner together the day after the coroner’s inquests on Joan Dingham and John Chappell. Two inquests on the same day. The inquest on Edward Dingham had yet to be held.
But the three of them felt that they could now draw the curtain.
Emily Agent had come up to Charmian at the inquest on Chappell. ‘I didn’t go on with the hunt for Cathy Cathedral, there didn’t seem much point. But I did manage to get in touch with one of the retired teachers who remembered all three girls. It seems they were all expelled – not that that word was used – asked to leave was the way it was put. They were, well, victimizing younger girls, if I can put it that way. The teacher was cagey but she got across that selected young girls were being initiated into sexual behaviour too advanced for their years. They had signs similar to the school badge scratched into their arms. They got chucked out when it was discovered.’
‘Lou never said.’
‘No, she wouldn’t, but she must have known. She wasn’t mixed up in it, though. I guess that was when it all started, ending up in murder. I suppose Chappell was the initiator. Amazing how the other two protected him – her.’
‘Thanks for telling me. And I suppose we will never know what set Chappell off.’
‘Parents usually get the blame somehow, but I don’t know.’
‘No. Would you like to eat with us tonight?’
‘No, I’m off out. Guess what? The Greenhams have asked me to a party.’
Keep your distance from the good doctor, Charmian wanted to warn but didn’t. Emily could look after herself.
Charmian served the meal to her friends with relief at being off the hook.
They ate salmon and salad and drank white wine which Humphrey poured. The dog ate salmon too.
‘I suppose we’ve got him for life,’ said Charmian, for the second time since his arrival.
‘I don’t know.’ Humphrey was doubtful. ‘He still wanders off you know. He’s not always with us.’
The telephone rang while they were drinking coffee. Charmian took the call.
A soft pleasant woman’s voice spoke, ‘ I’m sorry to bother you,’ she said. ‘And do forgive me if I’ve got it wrong … But I saw a picture in the local paper of you with a dog and it looked so like our Pete that I wondered if it could be. Have you had him long?’
‘No, not very long,’ said Charmian looked down at the dog, lying at her feet. ‘ Yes. I reckon he could be your Pete … he’s smallish but strong with shaggy light brown fur.’
Could be, thought Charmian. Or four or five. I reckon he likes to change as it suits him.
‘But the children do love him and they miss him so much. And he loves them, of course. Could I come and collect him?’
‘Yes, do.’ And she told the caller her address. Then she turned to the rest of them. ‘Well, you all heard that: he’s off home where the children all miss him so much.’
Very soon a battered Land Rover drove up, and Pete was led to the door. Four lively children, two boys and two girls, hurled themselves at him with cries of joy. Their pretty young mother thanked Charmian for her great kindness to the dog.
‘He is such a nice dog, but an innocent really.’
Oh, yes, thought Charmian, an innocent who’s probably watched at least one murder and maybe a couple of others. He probably helped in the invention of the hermit and Dr Harrie. Birdie was the wise one, she was always cautious with him.
She waved Pete goodbye as he was deposited in the Land Rover with the children. She saw that he had his jaws firmly fixed round the china hand which he had stolen from Baby. His toy.
As they drove off, it seemed to Humphrey that Pete gave him a straight look.
You haven’t seen the last of me, the look said. I’ll be back. I’m not staying with this lot, I don’t like children.
Copyright
First published 2000 by Macmillan
This edition published 2015 by Bello
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