by Tonya Kappes
“There’d be a queue as long as this if you stuck ‘em all in a line!” Dorie stage-whispered. “The assistant hates for her a start. Not to mention all the good people who’ve lost jobs because of her.”
“The assistant? You mean Ted?” Sandy asked.
“He wanted the job, didn’t he,” Dorie said. “You girls probably don’t keep up with all the news. Did you see the memo that was leaked in the paper this week?”
Coral, to her dismay, had to admit that she’d seen no such thing. The difficulty with being a teenage girl was that she sometimes forgot her career ambitions and became focused on how to sneak her Tamagotchi into school and keep it alive during lessons without being given detention.
“Well, it was from Ted Burton to Sharon Major, and it were all spot on really. I mean, it’s done the bloke a favour for his career really. If one letter could sum up the way the town feels, this were it. And he sent it to her, expressing his concerns really that she were driving independent shops out of the town and all that. Someone leaked it to the press.”
“So, that’s good?” Sandy asked, not following.
“Not now she’s been killed. It puts Ted firmly under suspicion. I mean, I were talking to him about it today, and he said she’d basically closed down, wouldn’t discuss it with him.”
“You know him, then?”
“I know everyone, don’t I? Must sit next to him four days a week on the bus. At first he’d not tell me anything, but then I think he realised how much I know, and how discreet I can be. We have a nice chinwag now.”
“On the bus?” Sandy asked. Her eyes widened as she realised the significance of what Dorie had said.
Dorie nodded. “He can’t drive. He’s got some health thing, can’t remember what he called it. He’s as weak as a fly most days. Brilliant mind but the body isn’t willing. Shame really.”
The cashier called Sandy forward and she put her cards, decoupage magazine and sticker pack on the counter and asked for a carrier bag while Coral and Dorie waited off to one side.
By the time she rejoined them, Dorie had gone.
“I told her we’d be alright now,” Coral said, then draped her arm through Sandy’s. “Plus she said her next stop was the underwear department in BHS. I couldn’t face undie shopping with Dorie Slaughter!”
Sandy shook her head. “You are mean, Coral. Dorie’s nice.”
“I’m not saying she isn’t, but I don’t need the image of her in her smalls burnt into my mind forever.”
“I hope I look like her when I’m old,” Sandy murmured. She couldn’t imagine holding down a job that required her to dress in such an elegant way. Sure, she was clever, and occasionally at school there were whispers of University, but there seemed to be so many unknown steps between her and there.
“Where next?” Coral asked. They emerged from the shop back into the heat of the centre and saw Ted Burton stand at the customer service desk. “What do you reckon’s wrong with him?”
“No idea,” Sandy said with a shrug. “Sounds like he’s a suspect, though.”
“Definitely,” Coral agreed. “I didn’t know he lived in Waterfell Tweed. Dorie said he likes to keep a low profile. She’s not kidding!”
“Think he’ll talk to us?” Sandy asked. They stood together away from the customer service desk and looked at each other. Getting Dorie to speak was never hard. But a grown-up who they didn’t know? That was another thing entirely.
“We need to think about our strategy.” Coral said. Strategy was her new favourite word. She included it in every piece of essay homework and as many conversations as she could. “We can’t just barge up to him and demand he tell us what he knows.”
“Well, we are students. Public servants always want to help students, don’t they? Or is it part of their job that they have to?” Sandy asked.
Coral tilted her head to one side, intrigued.
“What if we quiz him as if we’re considering a future working for the council?”
“Hmm,” Coral murmured. “It could work. We need to get him on his own, though. Not while he’s there in front of everyone.”
“How do we do that then?” Sandy asked. He’d made it clear he was going to be at the desk until the police arrived. She couldn’t imagine them changing his mind on that.
“I don’t know,” Coral said. “Let’s go and get the rest of our shopping. I still need a bra.”
Sandy groaned. She’d forgotten all about her sister’s mission to find a new bra but trudged along with her. The alternative was to wait somewhere for her, alone, and Sandy couldn’t face the thought of that.
Not with a murderer amongst them.
Chapter Five
Woolworths was a treasure trove of a department store. Its lines included everything from clothes to books to CDs to Sandy’s favourite, an incredible pick and mix selection. On the rare times she came to Marsden, that’s what she spent her money on. The large pear drops were her favourite, but they were heavy, so she allowed herself a few and then added chocolate coated raisins, spaceships filled with tangy candy powder, milk bottles and always a jelly snake.
“I’m just…” Sandy began as she saw the pick and mix rack in front of them.
Coral tutted. “We came in here for bras, not sweets!”
Sandy felt her cheeks flush. There was no need for Coral to be so loud, they were right next to each other.
She grabbed a paper bag and began to add her usual selection of sweets, adding some fizzy cola bottles for good measure.
“Stick a few jelly babies in and I’ll give you some money,” Coral suggested.
They paid for the sweets downstairs and each snuck one sweet each as they walked up the stairs to the clothing floor. Coral chose a heavy pear drop which wasn’t entirely fair, as Sandy didn’t like the jelly babies that Coral had asked for, but she said nothing.
“Think we should get some of these?” Coral asked with a high-pitched laugh. She held up a pack of brightly coloured plastic bangles. All of the girls at school wore them. Some of them had hundreds trailing up the length of their arms, in neon oranges and pinks and greens. Apparently, depending on who Sandy listened to, if a boy snapped one of the bands, the girl had to kiss him, or more.
“Absolutely not!” Sandy exclaimed. She didn’t know what her sister was thinking sometimes. “Put them back.”
Coral descended into laughter. “I’m only teasing, Sand.”
Sandy shook her head to signal that the conversation was over. She’d actually quite liked the bangles until she’d heard the full story behind them.
A crackle came from overhead and then the tannoy came to life.
“All persons are required to move to the second-floor hall immediately. All persons are required to move to the second-floor hall immediately. Thank you.”
“What’s that about?” Sandy asked.
Coral groaned dramatically - so close to her much-anticipated bra shopping and yet so far - and they filed down the stairs and out of Woolworths with the rest of the shoppers. People were moving towards the far end of the centre, back towards the crime scene, and through a set of double doors that were usually reserved for staff only.
“What’s that?” Sandy asked. Immediately inside the double doors was a large contraption that each person had to walk through.
“Metal detector,” Coral explained. Sandy gave her a blank look. “It’s to stop the staff stealing.”
“Oh,” Sandy said. “Stealing what?”
“Anything really. Stealing from where they work.”
“People do that?”
Coral nodded. “Look, there’s Ted. He looks shifty.”
Sandy followed the direction of her sister’s gaze. Ted Burton stood near the front of the queue, hands intertwined across his middle. His stance was relaxed but his skin somehow managed to look ashen, despite his tan.
“I wonder why they’re moving us,” Sandy said.
“It makes sense. Better to have everyone in one space. The upstairs
is a big hall. Sharon Major wanted to use it for events. Book tours and things, ya know.”
“So we’ll be in a room with the killer?” Sandy asked. A shudder ran through her.
“Well, yeah, but everyone will be together. It’ll be safer.”
Sandy swallowed. She wished their dad was with them, even as she knew that he’d be of little use. He’d be at the bookies, that was her guess. If he was winning, he’d offer them a Chinese when they got home. Sandy could practically taste the king prawn chow mein she’d order, if this was any other day. But, of course, it wasn’t any other day. The only news that penetrated the bookies was the odds of a horse winning. Her father would have no idea they were camped out with a killer.
The incessant beep of the metal detector rang out and Sandy and Coral both peered through the crowd to see a teenage boy, hands raised in exclamation as he disappeared off up the stairs.
“Do we know him?” Sandy asked.
“Yep,” Coral said. “James Gridley. He’s in Year 11.”
“Gridley?” Sandy asked. “I never knew his name.”
“I think that’s it,” Coral said. “He’s one of the class clowns from what I can gather. Why? Has Sandy got a crush?”
Sandy rolled her eyes. If she was going to have a crush it wouldn’t be on a class clown, that’s for sure. It would be on the Year 11 boy who spent every lunch break in the library and already had a hint of facial hair. He’d smiled at her once as she walked past to restock shelves. She’d volunteered in the library for the last year, enjoying the perks it offered: she got to skip PE so she could eat her lunch before the actual lunch break, she didn’t have to go outside in the long, cold months, and she got to spend an hour every day surrounded by books. She loved the smell of them and the weight of them in her hands. She loved to pretend that she was a sophisticated older woman, in her 20s perhaps, and that the library was a bookshop that she owned. And she definitely loved the way that older boy had looked up through his blond curtains and, while surrounded by books she had probably touched at some point, smiled at her.
“Well? You have, haven’t you!” Coral teased.
“No, I haven’t,” Sandy said. “Gridley’s was the craft shop, remember? I just wondered if he was one of those Gridleys.”
“Oh,” Coral said, disappointed. “No idea on that, sorry.”
The line moved forward, slowly, and the two of them kept a surreptitious eye on Ted Burton. He reached up towards his neck and pulled the collar of his shirt away from his skin.
Sandy and Coral filed past him and up the stairs, emerging into a large, empty hall. Some people stood in small groups, anxious voices pondered over murder theories. Others had sat against the wall. At least two people appeared to be asleep.
“Let’s sit down for a minute,” Coral suggested. They found a gap against the wall and sat down, then scanned the crowd for familiar faces. Dorie stood near the middle of the room, holding court. A group of people hung on her every word. She wasn’t just a gossip; her information was good. She was an authority on pretty much everything.
“Shall we move closer and try to listen?” Sandy suggested.
Coral shook her head. “We’ve already quizzed her. It’s Ted we need.”
“I’d like to talk to that Gridley boy,” Sandy said. “See if he was connected to the shop. It might have just moved?”
Coral shrugged. “Feel free, he’s over there.”
Sandy looked across to the opposite wall, where James Gridley sat slumped over. His eyes were closed but whenever someone walked by, he opened them a little.
“Maybe later,” Sandy said. She wasn’t sure that she could find the courage to approach an older boy. If he thought she was weird for doing it, she’d be the laughing stock when word spread through the school.
“Suit yourself,” Coral said.
One of the security guards from the stage appeared then. He dragged a wooden box across the room. The movement brought the crowd to silence.
Ted Burton walked a few paces behind the guard and climbed on to the box so that he was elevated above the crowd. He cleared his throat. Up close, and without a script, he was less confident, but surely that was to be expected.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,” he mumbled. “Thank you for your co-operation. We are still awaiting police assistance and I apologise for the delay. Unfortunately, it appears we’re not the only emergency they have to deal with today. I remain in contact with them and they have advised that we all remain in one place, hence us moving here. We are all to remain in this hall until the police arrive. We have medics here with us, you’ll be able to find them as they’re wearing orange tabards. Medics, please raise your hands.”
A smattering of six hands went up from various points of the room.
“The centre staff are moving water supplies up to here, please do help yourself as needed. It’s important to stay hydrated. Does anyone have any questions?”
“I’ve got to tell my childminder I’ll be back late. I know you said no phone calls but I have to…” a woman called, not waiting for Ted to select her to speak.
“Of course,” he said. “Anyone who needs to make a call, you can. I would ask that you don’t discuss what’s happened here as that may hamper the police investigation.”
Coral looked at Sandy. “You want to ring dad?”
Sandy considered the question. As tempting as the thought of hearing his voice was, she shook her head. She had a growing sense that she and Coral needed to see this through, on their own.
Chapter Six
They found Ted in a far corner of the hall, a mobile phone pressed to his ear, and loitered as close as they could to try and catch some of his conversation. His whispers were barely audible. Whoever he was talking to had good hearing as the hall was echoing with every murmur of conversation.
“Girls!” Ted exclaimed as he finished his call and turned towards them. The skin underneath his eyes was almost translucent, crinkled like crepe-paper. “Are you okay?”
Coral nodded and gave Ted her most winning smile. “We know you’re super busy and important. We’ve wanted to be brave enough for ages to talk to you.”
Ted eyed them warily for a moment then returned to his public persona and offered them a broad smile. “You can always speak to me, ladies. I’m a public servant. My time is yours. How can I help?”
“Well, it’s just that I’d like to work for the council, maybe even become Mayor… when I leave school.” Coral said. Sandy wondered if her sister’s focus should be fiction writing rather than journalism since she found it so easy to tell tall tales.
“A worthy ambition,” Ted said. He stuck his hands in his trouser pockets and surveyed the crowd. Most people had grown bored of standing and were sat on the floor. A spattering of chairs had been found for the older people, carried up the stairs by Ted and some of the shop staff. Dorie Slaughter had noisily refused to sit down for fears of creasing her skirt and was one of the few who remained standing.
“What’s it like?” Coral asked.
“Well, it’s like any job I guess,” Ted began. “Lots of fairly dull work behind the scenes. Moments of excitement. Some great achievements here and there, but each win takes lots of work. And it’s long hours.”
“How did you get into it?” Sandy asked.
Ted squirmed a little. “Accidentally,” he admitted. “I did work experience in the council offices and never really left. I enjoyed the work. The people were nice. And it’s a pretty secure job. That was drilled into me by my parents, getting a secure job.”
“Being the Mayor’s assistant must be pretty exciting,” Sandy pushed.
Ted laughed until his laugh transformed into a hacking cough. He bent double until the moment had passed, then stood upright, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sorry, sorry.”
“Are you ill?” Coral asked.
“No, no. I’m fine. You were saying?”
“Being the assistant…” Sandy reminded him.
> “Ah, yeah. Mainly dull, to be honest. Lots of running around doing errands, that kind of thing. It’s a support role, like any kind of assistant or secretary.”
“Your memo wasn’t very supportive,” Coral said. Her sudden attack stunned Sandy and Ted, who opened his eyes wide. “Sorry, I heard someone mention it earlier. It must be hard to disagree like that.”
“Not really,” Ted said with a shrug and a glance across the crowd, then flashed them a wink. “People disagree all the time. Now, having your disagreement leak to the press? That’s the unhelpful bit.”
Coral flushed as if she personally had leaked the memo. “Yeah, I bet.”
“Really, girls, if you want to follow in my footsteps the best thing would be to get involved with the community. Go to events. Start events! And if you do want to come along for work experience, give me a call,” he reached into the inside pocket of his blazer and pulled out two thick, glossy business cards. In turn, he handed one to each of them and was then consumed with another coughing fit.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Coral asked as Sandy studied the impressive business card. She found it hard to believe that council budgets stretched to such grand stationery.
“I might just get some water.”
“Oh, here,” Sandy said. She held her own bottle out towards him. “I haven’t opened it.”
Ted took a deep swig, his Adam’s apple jutting out as he swallowed.
“So, you’ll be Mayor now?” Coral asked.
“It’s a possibility,” Ted said. “I can’t really discuss it. It’s not appropriate…”
“Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry, I’m just interested in how it all works. We can’t just be without a Mayor, surely?”
“The role of Mayor isn’t usually as large a role as Sharon Major made it,” Ted said, selecting each word carefully. “She isn’t the MP, remember. Or wasn’t. Mayor is really designed as more of a supportive role, a ceremonial role in some cases.”