Read Online Wexford 18 - Harm Done by Ruth Rendell - Free Book Online
Authors: Ruth Rendell
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come back. Actually, I regret having to put him out, he seemed a decent fellow. ‘You know something? Well, of course you do. When folks got married in the old days, the woman used to have o say she’d obey him. Pity that was ever changed, if you ask me.”
“I don’t know that I do ask you, Mr. Honeyman,” Wexford said blandly. “I’m rather inclined to think I wouldn’t want your advice on anything much.” He watched Honeyman blink his eyes and slightly recoil. “But you could take some. You’d be well advised to call us next time a decent fellow slaps a woman around on your premises. And now perhaps you’d like to tell me if to your knowledge this girl has ever been in here.”
A deep red flush had suffused Honeyman’s face. It was probably a relief to him to have something to look at and be distracted by. He stared at the photograph Wexford showed him, then muttered, “I don’t know, I don’t recall.”
Burden, who had come up to the counter, said, “Does that mean you never saw her meet her friends in here on a Saturday night? She’s very good-looking, isn’t she? Not the sort of face you’d forget.”
“I may have seen her.” The burr was back and the sulkiness. “I reckon I did, maybe two or three months back. She was in here with some other kids - well, I don’t mean kids,” he said quickly, remembering what the law said about selling alcohol to those underage, “they was all over eighteen - and they had a bar meal.”
“But you didn’t see her on Saturday night?”
“Absolutely not,” said Honeyman, shaking his head to give a kind of earnest vehemence to his denial.
“Sylvia’s working there,” Wexford said when he and Burden were outside and approaching The Hide. “I can’t remember if I told you. Answering calls on the helpline among other things. Have you ever hit a woman?”
“Of course I haven’t,” Burden said, shocked. “What a question.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t either. D’you know what Barry said to me the other day? ‘All men hit their wives sometime or other,’ that’s what he said. I was a bit taken aback.”
“My God.” Burden sounded horrified. “I hope and trust we haven’t got a wife-beater on the team. That would be a fine thing, just when Hurt-Watch has got going. And by the way, just how are we to go about distributing those pagers and mobiles? We may know that domestic violence is very prevalent in all societies, but how many prosecutions for assaults on wives and girlfriends have there been in our area? Precious few. Presumably that doesn’t mean male-female relationships are more idyllic here or men more easygoing. It’s just because in the past women haven’t called us and haven’t wanted our intervention.”
“So how are we going to find the ones that are in danger? Is that what you mean? Maybe by consulting the people who run this place.”
Wexford stopped outside The Hide and looked up at the windows. Those on the ground floor were almost entirely hidden by the tall evergreens that filled the front garden. From a top-floor window a white face framed in black hair looked back at him and he recognized its owner as the woman who had shouted at Andy Honeyman.
“There’ll have to be some such method. We can’t very well put an ad in the Courier offering free communication systems to anyone who applies. As Southby says the entire female population would want one.”
Burden obviously wasn’t much interested. “Talking of the female population, what was this idea of yours?”
“Idea?”
“You said you’d an idea about Rachel waiting for Mrs. Strang. Presumably you meant you’d found some sort of answer.”
“Oh, right. Yes. But I wouldn’t go as far as that. I only wondered if Rachel and Mrs. Strang had ever met. I mean, would they recognize each other?”
Burden seemed mystified. He gave Wexford a dark look and said he
“I don’t know that I do ask you, Mr. Honeyman,” Wexford said blandly. “I’m rather inclined to think I wouldn’t want your advice on anything much.” He watched Honeyman blink his eyes and slightly recoil. “But you could take some. You’d be well advised to call us next time a decent fellow slaps a woman around on your premises. And now perhaps you’d like to tell me if to your knowledge this girl has ever been in here.”
A deep red flush had suffused Honeyman’s face. It was probably a relief to him to have something to look at and be distracted by. He stared at the photograph Wexford showed him, then muttered, “I don’t know, I don’t recall.”
Burden, who had come up to the counter, said, “Does that mean you never saw her meet her friends in here on a Saturday night? She’s very good-looking, isn’t she? Not the sort of face you’d forget.”
“I may have seen her.” The burr was back and the sulkiness. “I reckon I did, maybe two or three months back. She was in here with some other kids - well, I don’t mean kids,” he said quickly, remembering what the law said about selling alcohol to those underage, “they was all over eighteen - and they had a bar meal.”
“But you didn’t see her on Saturday night?”
“Absolutely not,” said Honeyman, shaking his head to give a kind of earnest vehemence to his denial.
“Sylvia’s working there,” Wexford said when he and Burden were outside and approaching The Hide. “I can’t remember if I told you. Answering calls on the helpline among other things. Have you ever hit a woman?”
“Of course I haven’t,” Burden said, shocked. “What a question.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t either. D’you know what Barry said to me the other day? ‘All men hit their wives sometime or other,’ that’s what he said. I was a bit taken aback.”
“My God.” Burden sounded horrified. “I hope and trust we haven’t got a wife-beater on the team. That would be a fine thing, just when Hurt-Watch has got going. And by the way, just how are we to go about distributing those pagers and mobiles? We may know that domestic violence is very prevalent in all societies, but how many prosecutions for assaults on wives and girlfriends have there been in our area? Precious few. Presumably that doesn’t mean male-female relationships are more idyllic here or men more easygoing. It’s just because in the past women haven’t called us and haven’t wanted our intervention.”
“So how are we going to find the ones that are in danger? Is that what you mean? Maybe by consulting the people who run this place.”
Wexford stopped outside The Hide and looked up at the windows. Those on the ground floor were almost entirely hidden by the tall evergreens that filled the front garden. From a top-floor window a white face framed in black hair looked back at him and he recognized its owner as the woman who had shouted at Andy Honeyman.
“There’ll have to be some such method. We can’t very well put an ad in the Courier offering free communication systems to anyone who applies. As Southby says the entire female population would want one.”
Burden obviously wasn’t much interested. “Talking of the female population, what was this idea of yours?”
“Idea?”
“You said you’d an idea about Rachel waiting for Mrs. Strang. Presumably you meant you’d found some sort of answer.”
“Oh, right. Yes. But I wouldn’t go as far as that. I only wondered if Rachel and Mrs. Strang had ever met. I mean, would they recognize each other?”
Burden seemed mystified. He gave Wexford a dark look and said he
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