Read Online Cherringham--Death on a Summer Night by Neil Richards - Free Book Online
Authors: Neil Richards
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room’s back windows … a grand piano and a dozen pricey-looking acoustic guitars — in their stands — looking like musical soldiers ready for battle.
“Beautiful room,” she said.
“Ought to be — for what it cost,” he laughed. “Had to get guys from London — the Cherringham builders fell at the first hurdle.”
She pointed at a series of black-and-white photos on the wall: Rik at the piano with a variety of young musicians, mostly female — and many holding trophies or awards.
“So you teach in here?” she asked.
“Not much these days,” he said, handing her a coffee. “Unless they’re really special.”
“Looks like you were pretty good,” she said, nodding towards the photos.
He gestured to her to sit on one of the sofas, and she watched as he put his own coffee down then leaned back with his hands behind his head watching her.
“If a kid’s got talent and knows how to work hard, they’ll make it,” he said.
Sarah gestured to the room: “So how …?”
Another laugh. “—did I afford this?”
“Yes,” Sarah laughed. “Hard work and talent?”
“Ha, no — that’s for fairy tales, I am afraid. Pure luck if I’m honest,” he said laughing again.
He certainly found things amusing.
Sarah watched him run his hand through his thick hair and sweep it away from his forehead.
If he’d still been at Cherringham School when I was doing GCSEs I definitely would have taken music, she thought.
“Mid-nineties, I packed up teaching and got into composing my own stuff. Club scene was massive — and I wrote a couple of tunes that turned into hits. I’m still big in Estonia by the way. You can dance the night away in Tallinn to one of my tracks!”
“I feel ashamed I haven’t heard of you — Cherringham’s own rock star hmm?”
“Oh, no — not anymore,” he said. “Made a shedload of money. Then started composing properly. Got a studio in the basement.”
“Anything I’d know?”
“Not unless you listen to contemporary classical.”
“Ah, no,” she said. “I’m more Mumford and Sons …”
“Nothing wrong with that. I just like to push at the edges a bit.”
She watched him smile then put his coffee down on the table and lean forward.
“So,” he said, his eyes direct. “Your assistant said you wanted to ask me about something that happened back when I was working at Cherringham School?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, this is going to be a real change of subject.”
“That’s cool; no worries.”
Sarah told him about Tim Bell’s reappearance in Cherringham, the hostile reaction, and the possibility that perhaps Tim wasn’t guilty of Dinah’s murder.
She also explained how she and Jack had decided to reinvestigate the case. Rik listened closely and nodded sympathetically.
“Hmm. You really think he’s innocent?”
Sarah shrugged: “Right now I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt.”
“To be honest, I can’t say I liked the boy at the time.”
“You knew him?”
“I played a few acoustic sets down the Ploughman’s in those days — he was always first in the queue to ruin the evening.”
“I doubt he’s changed much.”
Rik got up, went to the window and looked out into the garden.
“I don’t really connect with this village anymore — so I had no idea this was going on. How awful.”
“Nobody’s talked to you about it recently?”
“I haven’t heard that Dinah’s name mentioned for … over twenty years.”
“Couple of her friends said she was pretty keen on you.”
“Really?” Another laugh. Quick, fast. “I used to get that quite a lot — sorry, that sounds arrogant, doesn’t it?”
“Not at all,” said Sarah. “Teaching teenage girls — it’s going to happen. Especially if you’re young.”
“Cherringham was my first teaching post,” said Rik. “I must have been — what … twenty-two? Just a kid myself.”
“So you don’t remember Dinah any more than the other girls?”
He turned back from the window
“Beautiful room,” she said.
“Ought to be — for what it cost,” he laughed. “Had to get guys from London — the Cherringham builders fell at the first hurdle.”
She pointed at a series of black-and-white photos on the wall: Rik at the piano with a variety of young musicians, mostly female — and many holding trophies or awards.
“So you teach in here?” she asked.
“Not much these days,” he said, handing her a coffee. “Unless they’re really special.”
“Looks like you were pretty good,” she said, nodding towards the photos.
He gestured to her to sit on one of the sofas, and she watched as he put his own coffee down then leaned back with his hands behind his head watching her.
“If a kid’s got talent and knows how to work hard, they’ll make it,” he said.
Sarah gestured to the room: “So how …?”
Another laugh. “—did I afford this?”
“Yes,” Sarah laughed. “Hard work and talent?”
“Ha, no — that’s for fairy tales, I am afraid. Pure luck if I’m honest,” he said laughing again.
He certainly found things amusing.
Sarah watched him run his hand through his thick hair and sweep it away from his forehead.
If he’d still been at Cherringham School when I was doing GCSEs I definitely would have taken music, she thought.
“Mid-nineties, I packed up teaching and got into composing my own stuff. Club scene was massive — and I wrote a couple of tunes that turned into hits. I’m still big in Estonia by the way. You can dance the night away in Tallinn to one of my tracks!”
“I feel ashamed I haven’t heard of you — Cherringham’s own rock star hmm?”
“Oh, no — not anymore,” he said. “Made a shedload of money. Then started composing properly. Got a studio in the basement.”
“Anything I’d know?”
“Not unless you listen to contemporary classical.”
“Ah, no,” she said. “I’m more Mumford and Sons …”
“Nothing wrong with that. I just like to push at the edges a bit.”
She watched him smile then put his coffee down on the table and lean forward.
“So,” he said, his eyes direct. “Your assistant said you wanted to ask me about something that happened back when I was working at Cherringham School?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, this is going to be a real change of subject.”
“That’s cool; no worries.”
Sarah told him about Tim Bell’s reappearance in Cherringham, the hostile reaction, and the possibility that perhaps Tim wasn’t guilty of Dinah’s murder.
She also explained how she and Jack had decided to reinvestigate the case. Rik listened closely and nodded sympathetically.
“Hmm. You really think he’s innocent?”
Sarah shrugged: “Right now I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt.”
“To be honest, I can’t say I liked the boy at the time.”
“You knew him?”
“I played a few acoustic sets down the Ploughman’s in those days — he was always first in the queue to ruin the evening.”
“I doubt he’s changed much.”
Rik got up, went to the window and looked out into the garden.
“I don’t really connect with this village anymore — so I had no idea this was going on. How awful.”
“Nobody’s talked to you about it recently?”
“I haven’t heard that Dinah’s name mentioned for … over twenty years.”
“Couple of her friends said she was pretty keen on you.”
“Really?” Another laugh. Quick, fast. “I used to get that quite a lot — sorry, that sounds arrogant, doesn’t it?”
“Not at all,” said Sarah. “Teaching teenage girls — it’s going to happen. Especially if you’re young.”
“Cherringham was my first teaching post,” said Rik. “I must have been — what … twenty-two? Just a kid myself.”
“So you don’t remember Dinah any more than the other girls?”
He turned back from the window
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