‘Oh, Trudy isn’t with the press,’ Clement said. ‘She’s my assistant and she also knew David,’ he lied blandly.
At this, all three women stared openly at her – no doubt wondering just how well she’d known the dead boy. So intent was their scrutiny that she could practically hear the cogs turning in their heads. Did he dump her for Iris? Did Iris know? Was David two-timing Iris with her?
She could understand why Clement needed to come up with some sort of story to account for their nosing around, but she wished he’d consulted her first.
‘It’s been a bad business all round,’ Clement said mildly. ‘I hope Keith’s wife is coping?’ This gentle probing had the desired effect, and all eyes reverted back to himself as they contemplated the current state of their stricken fellow villager.
‘Betty’s just about coping, I suppose,’ the shopkeeper said slowly.
‘Having Delia at home helps,’ the blonde woman agreed.
‘Oh yes, David’s sister,’ Clement said. ‘She must be very upset about all this too.’
‘She is,’ the tall brunette said. ‘She was always close to her little brother. And she always said that Iris was no good for him. Mind you, I don’t think anybody thought that a girl like Iris would be.’
At this somewhat stark and shocking statement, Trudy felt her breath catch in surprise. Like everyone else, she’d been brought up to believe that you didn’t speak ill of the dead – and certainly not of someone who had been murdered.
As if sensing the silent censure in the room, the taller woman fidgeted sharply. ‘Well, we all know it’s true, even if nobody has the courage to say so out loud,’ she said defensively, looking around, half defiantly, half shame-faced.
The shop owner, coming to her rescue, cleared her throat. ‘Well, least said, soonest mended,’ she trotted out the platitude as if not really believing it.
Clement smiled at the now discomfited, red-faced brunette. ‘I’m sure you’re right though. From what I’ve been hearing about her, a lot of people thought that she and David were mismatched.’
‘She was very pretty, I hear,’ Trudy heard herself pipe up helpfully. She knew that if there was one thing that united middle-aged ladies it was talking about younger, prettier women.
Right on cue, the shopkeeper sniffed condescendingly. ‘And she knew it, too.’
‘You knew her well?’ Clement slipped in.
‘All her life. I’ve lived in the village nigh on fifty years, and the Carmodys have lived here generations, I reckon. They’re all right,’ she added, a shade grudgingly, Trudy thought. ‘Frannie works as a daily for folks round abouts and her husband has a good solid job as a coal man. Sensible, hard-working people, both of ’em. And their three sons turned out right enough – two of ’em with wife and kiddies of their own now. Only their Bobby is still living at home. And I don’t reckon he was happy about his sister’s airs and graces neither,’ she added, her lips thinning into a tight line.
‘Oh, one of those, was she?’ Trudy said with a sigh of understanding. ‘I knew a girl like that at school. Always making up stories about herself, pretending to be better than she was,’ she added, sounding most indignant about this non-existent schoolmate.
‘Ah, that was Iris,’ the tall brunette said. ‘Oh, she was pretty enough, and nobody was surprised when she was elected May Queen. But that girl had her sights set on much higher things, didn’t she, Flo?’
Thus appealed to, the blonde woman nodded vigorously. ‘My Jane said Iris was forever boasting that she was going to be a model, or an actress or some such. She was always swanning around in fancy clothes, wasn’t she? Where did she get the money from to afford them, that’s what we’d like to know.’
At this, all three women’s heads nodded in unison.
‘Didn’t she have a job?’ Trudy asked guilelessly.
‘Huh! Not her – young madam wouldn’t deign to chip her painted nails on anything like hard work,’ Flo shot back tartly. ‘Didn’t stop her strutting around wearing a gold and pearl necklace though, did it?’
‘Oh, you saw that too, did you?’ the tall brunette said, lips pursed.
‘Perhaps David gave it to her?’ Clement said mildly. ‘They were stepping out, weren’t they?’
The three women gave him pitying looks.
‘A young lad at university? Where’d he get the money from?’ the blonde woman said, shaking her head. ‘No, mark my words, that young lady had more strings to her bow that we knew about. Stands to reason, doesn’t it? I mean … with what happened to her and all …’
She trailed off uneasily. Clement, sensing that they had begun to realise that they might have been a bit free with their tongues, and not wanting to give them time to feel angry about it, made a show of putting his new purchases away in his jacket pocket.
‘Well, good day ladies, we mustn’t keep you any longer.’ He smiled at them in turn, and then turned away, Trudy quickly following suit.
Outside, they paused in the lane, looking around. ‘Well, that was interesting,’ Clement said.
‘They didn’t like Iris, did they?’ Trudy agreed.
‘No. And what’s more, I don’t think they’re sure that David Finch killed her,’ Clement mused. ‘I got the distinct impression that they had pretty strong suspicions that were other men in her life, and one of them was responsible for what happened to her.’
Trudy nodded. She didn’t know everything about the Carmody case, but she’d heard enough from chat at the station to know that the team working on the murder case believed that Iris was involved with other men. And she supposed anyone suspected of being intimate with the girl had already been thoroughly interviewed. But a week after the May Queen had been found so
