The Writer (9 page)

Seeing how many people were
gathered around the crime scene made him swear again. It was so
loud and so viscous that that rest of the crowd looked at him and
then away to avoid his gaze. He stomped his way through the long
weeds and yelled out, demanding that Andy Handisides show himself.
The town sheriff responded with a shout of his own, but his was
polite and optimistic. To Dale’s disgust Andy then walked over to
him by passing right next to the body. Dale demanded he know why
there was no tent set up around the body and the immediate area
cordoned off. When he heard that Gendry didn’t have a tent big
enough he swore again. Quite a few of the onlookers decided that
they had seen enough for today and began to move on.

Dale had met Handisides
twice before, so he knew what to expect. It wasn’t his large girth
that was his most memorable feature, but his smile. His large teeth
could be off-putting to the most hardened criminal. Dale had seen a
lot of bad things, and bad people doing those bad things, but
nothing could compare with being confronted by someone who appeared
happy and yet also appeared threatening at the same time. His teeth
were not grotesque, or broken, or contained gaps. They were just
too big. His large smile made them appear even larger, not helped
by his perpetually languid attitude. Such an attitude was exactly
why Dale hated visiting Gendry. That and the fact that the local
insect community loved to visit his skin. He expected to resolve
the crime as quickly as he could, so he could go home and nurse his
bites and enjoy telling his friends how dumb these Gendry people
still were.

At least Dale was happy to
see that the body had been covered. Missy, the sheriff’s assistant,
further helped him by saying that she had taken a lot of pictures,
from every angle she could. Dale told Handisides to question every
single one of the onlookers who remained, and to start with those
who were looking to leave. He also needed to find a rope to keep
them away from the body. When Andy mentioned that he suspected that
the body had been moved from the road and hidden there in the
undergrowth, Dale asked how he could have sustained such fatal
wounds otherwise.

“Or did he run real fast
into a couple of these trees?” Dale asked him.

“They’re not the most
dangerous trees I’ve ever seen,” said Andy, hoping for a smile from
the police detective.

Dale reacted like he had
said nothing. “You know how much I enjoy coming all the way up here
for this sort of treatment? There’s too many bugs in this place. I
hate bugs, you know that? Make me swell up all funny when they bite
me. And they always bite me. Why don’t they bite any of you? Or are
they just sick of the way you taste? Two kids found him, that
right?”

“Yes, sir. Kerry and Jerry
Tyle.”

“You pay close attention to
this, okay? I need to know how close they got to the body, and if
they moved anything, or took anything. You find them and you get
them to see me.”

“We’ve already questioned
them.”

“You’ve already done a lot
of things. Like let half the town trample all over my crime scene.
Just get those kids for me.”

“They didn’t mean any harm,
Dale.”

Dale sighed like he was
going to swear again. Instead he looked up to the road and the
group of people who were still foolish enough to be hanging around
after hearing what kind of a mood he was in. “And somebody up there
get me some decent coffee!” he shouted at them.

They all flinched at the
same time, but even that was not enough to get them to budge.
Gendry never had a murder before and they were not about to miss
any of it.

Andy Handisides didn’t care
that he was twenty minutes late to a meeting that he himself had
arranged. He pulled his car up close to the steps of Sal’s and took
his time getting out. His vast stomach was becoming increasingly
larger with each passing year, and he had no concern over it, or
that it made it difficult to reach for low doorknobs that were
common in Gendry. He liked Sal’s place very much anyway, and the
easy-to-push doors didn’t hurt. He was pleased to see that it was
packed with most of townsfolk, including that nice young woman
Sophie, down from the city and staying with that nice Susan Tyle.
Any further interest he might have had in thinking about her
vanished when he noticed that Sal had provided a big helping of
carrot cake for him to devour.

Dale Gant slowly walked up
to him, looking disinterested in everything around him. Andy had no
say in letting this expert from the big city assist with the
homicide investigation. If he was asked then he would have
declined, which was probably why he was never consulted. Both men
viewed each other as an annoyance, and they seldom said anything
that did not involve the case. Dale liked to dress well, exercise a
lot, eat healthy and loudly curse anything he didn’t like, which
was a long way from both Andy and the town he lived in. He also had
an unhealthy appetite for coffee and Andy knew that if he kept him
supplied then he had a much nicer work associate to deal
with.

When the twins Kerry and
Jerry saw that Handisides had arrived they made their way over to
Sophie, eager to tell her the news they had been keeping to
themselves.

“It’s official now,” said
Kerry or Jerry.

“We can break our silence,”
said Jerry or Kerry.

“It’s the
postman!”

“The postman?” Sophie
repeated.

“Yeah, our postman,” said
Jerry or Kerry.

“Are you saying the postman
is dead? You saw his body?”

“If he wasn’t dead, he
wasn’t feeling very well,” said Kerry or Jerry, gaining a laugh
from the other.

“Do you know anything about
him; who he was?” she asked.

“We asked him once, what his
name was,” said Kerry or Jerry

“And he told you? What was
it?”

“Bill Bearer,” said Jerry or
Kerry.

Andy finished three
mouthfuls of cake and then thought he should start to address the
people, especially since they were all looking at him and waiting
for him to do exactly that.

“For those who don’t know
me, or this is our first meeting,” he said to the hushed room
before swallowing the last of the cake, “my name is Sheriff Andrew
Handisides. I know most of you all, and have been looking after
this town for as long as most of you can remember, I’m sure. You
may have heard there has been an unfortunate death in our
community, of Allan Longbottom. My condolences to those who knew
him; friends, family and such. Mind you, he had no family in town,
and I’m not sure he had any friends neither. Many of you would have
never seen him wearing anything but his mail uniform, or talked to
him much beyond the letters and the weather. Far as I remember, my
own conversations never went much beyond those things. Not that
they were uninteresting points, seeing the weather dictates our
lives more than we know, and I don’t need to mention the importance
of that mail needing to get to its rightful recipients.

“Sadly, Allan’s death was
the result of vehicle collision, and that makes it a murder case.
With us now is Dale Gant, who has come up from the city to ask some
of you a few questions regarding the investigation. Now, let me
assure you, this meeting is all completely informal and it’s just
to let the city boy know what life’s like here and how well we get
on with each other. You all know as well as I do, we enjoy the
quiet and slow here, and whoever did this crime must have been
travelling through at too fast a rate, as they typically
do.”

“Always in a fast hurry to
get back to their miserable fast city!” added Two-Tooth Hendersen,
gaining light titters from a few people near to him.

“We have yet to determine
that,” said Dale, not at all interested in the humour of the Gendry
locals. He viewed the meeting as an opportunity to find quick
information, to help in his leaving the town. “The assault vehicle
in question has not been found, and until that happens we need to
continue with our inquiry and study of your town.”

“And you are quite welcome,”
Andy said to him kindly, but neglected to look at him, by
design.

“Fact is,” Dale said, “Andy
and I are leaning to the possibility it was an
out-of-towner.”

“No one living here ever
needs to get anywhere fast,” added Andy.

“Given the high number of
speeding vehicles, particularly at night,” said Dale, “it’s a
surprise more of you are not endangered. I’ve noticed how some of
you take no notice of traffic when crossing roads, even the main
road outside this building. However, we still need to ask our
questions, and what better place to do that than this fine
diner?”

“What if it’s someone who’s
from the city but is currently living here?” asked Sophie, drawing
surprise from the two men.

“That’s what we will to
determine through are inquiries,” said Dale. “If you don’t mind, I
would prefer asking brief questions.”

“We would like to have a
word with each one of you while you’re all here,” added Andy. “You
can go on your way if you want, but I know most of you would like
to get this out of the way here and now.”

Dale turned to the nearest
person, a tall elderly man with a dull expression. “Can I have your
name, sir?”

“Ken Giblett.”

“And what is your
occupation?” Dale asked as he filled in his small
notebook.

“Town undertaker. Thirty
seven years since I took over from my daddy. That’s Marvin Giblett,
who was a tall and bold man and proud to serve as Gendry undertaker
for sixty years, and I am equally proud to stand in his place at
this time. My first role as official town undertaker was to bury my
dear departed daddy. It was just the way he wanted it, too. He
primed me for the role for many years, since I was nothing but a
small and shaky youngster. Had me practising until I was so good at
it, he knew he was leaving the business in sound hands. Sound
enough to bury him with.”

“Well, it’s good to know
Gendry is served so well,” Dale said, not wanting to know most of
what he had just heard.

“Given your answer, Kenny,”
Andy said, “I think Dale here might hesitate in asking you any
further in-depth questions.”

“Well, that’s his job, son,”
Ken replied studiously.

“I’m just bantering with
you,” said Andy, “pay my humour no mind. The wife
doesn’t.”

“Now, tell me,” Dale said to
Ken, trying to ignore Andy, “did you see or hear anything of the
unusual type on the eighteenth?”

“No, sir, and I’m certain of
that fact. Cross my heart, hope to die and be buried somewhere as
nice as Gendry. Once my own son realises his place and is fit to
honour his father in that way.”

“I see,” Dale said as he
looked for someone else. “That’s good. Thank you for your time. We
may speak to you again, so if I can take some details?”

“Except that van nearly
hitting me,” Ken continued.

“What’s this?” Dale asked,
looking at him twice before it registered.

“Speeding, nearly knocked me
off my bike. I go biking every day, you see. I’ve never seen
anything like it; not in Gendry.”

“Yes, he does,” added Sal,
“He goes riding, does our Ken. He’s quite a sight for sore eyes,
all decked in his bright yellow bicycle costume. Got that from the
city, did you, Ken?”

“Helmet and professional
cyclist clothes,” said Ken. “They cut down the wind-resistance, you
see. Got it from the city by special delivery. Cost a fortune,
too.”

“Then how come,” asked Sal,
“you don’t go any faster than young Daisy Waterdown pushing her
baby around town?”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Dale
said to Sal, “but I would kindly request you don’t interrupt this
gentlemen. You can have your say when I get to you, but until then,
please hold your peace.”

Two-Tooth took his chance to
say a word. “I’m just waiting for you to announce one of us here in
this room is the murderer, and you know who it is! Isn’t that the
way these gatherings go, detective? One of us may be the murderer,
which is why you brought us all here!”

They all laughed and Dale
raised a hand to stop them. “I would like to remind you all,
despite the informality, this is still a police investigation. None
of you are required to be here, and are free to leave. But I will
require an interview with each and every one of you, and I know you
agree it is easier for us all to have them completed here today,
especially given the distances away some of you live.”

“Sorry there, chief,”
Two-Tooth said with a quick salute.

“Now, Mr. Giblett,” Dale
resumed as he looked at his notes, “you were saying about your
being hit by a van?”

“I wasn’t hit by it. I never
said I was hit by it. Don’t twist my words, now.”

“Then what did happen, if
you can remember?”

“This van came speeding at
me from behind, so close I nearly fell off.”

“Seen the van before, have
you?”

“Never at all. Not even
once.”

“Get the number
plate?”