‘I haven’t heard anything, no.’
‘It was a good initiative, but like all these things, it needs someone dynamic and proactive to make anything happen. I considered reviving it myself but, quite honestly, I’m so busy with the various other committees I’m on … and the church, of course. Leonard’s set-up was trying to get local people to form a rota of clearing plastic from the beach, that kind of thing.’
‘I know,’ said Carole icily. ‘I was actually on the committee.’
‘Were you?’ He looked at her in amazement, before saying, ‘Oh yes, of course you were.’
She didn’t now think his earlier lack of recognition was caused by failing memory or rudeness. She had come to the conclusion that Ruskin Dewitt was just one of those men who was so involved in his own ego, that he really didn’t notice other people.
Carole moved her investigation forward. ‘I gather that you and Jonny Virgo taught at the same school for a while.’
‘Yes. Ravenhall. For our sins.’ He let out the meaningless laugh that always accompanies that meaningless expression.
‘And did you get on well?’ Again, it was a very direct question, but Carole reckoned Russ was so caught up in himself that, so long as the conversation centred on him, he didn’t mind too much what he was being asked.
Her instinct proved right. ‘Well, we sort of rubbed along, as you do in a school staff room. We’re very different people, though. I was always more active, setting up new initiatives for the sixth formers, that kind of thing. Jonny had less natural empathy with the boys. Only really interested in his own music. And his mother, even back then. Devoted to her. Bit of an “apron strings problem”, but he’s always had that.’
‘And did you ever have any trouble at the school?’
‘Me? Why should I have trouble?’
‘I gather you sometimes had a problem with controlling your temper.’
That really did catch him on the raw. ‘I have never in my life had problems controlling my temper!’ he bellowed in a voice which immediately gave the lie to what he was saying. ‘And if someone has been spreading rumours about me, I demand to know who it is! What have you heard?’
‘Just that you once lost your temper so badly that you assaulted one of the pupils.’
‘That is a downright lie!’ Quickly deciding that bluster was not going to be his best way out of this situation, he took on a more conciliatory tone. ‘Oh, I think I probably know the incident you are referring to. And I bet you heard it from bloody Jonny, didn’t you?’
Carole neither confirmed nor denied this.
‘Very well, I’ll tell you exactly what happened. Yes, one of the boys did accuse me of hitting him, I don’t deny that. But the fact was that the boy in question was a fantasist. He was from a very unsettled background – his parents were going through a sticky divorce at the time – and the boy expressed his mental turmoil by spreading mendacious rumours about his classmates. Presumably getting some kind of kick out of this, he decided to move up the food chain and spread a rumour about a member of staff. I got the short straw of being the one he chose. The boy said I had hit him over the head with a dictionary.
‘The headmaster of Ravenhall at the time was not very bright, but he knew what was required of him in such circumstances. Very rightly, he took the accusation that had been made against me seriously. And it’s always difficult in such situations to be certain of the truth. It was basically the boy’s version of events against mine. Fortunately, in the end, wiser counsel prevailed, and I was exonerated. I agreed not to seek any apology, or indeed to ask that the boy should be punished. It was an unsavoury incident, but one that is a hazard of choosing schoolmastering as one’s profession. I imagine the risks of such unwarranted accusations are even greater now in the days of social media. At least, thank goodness, I was spared that.
‘But even though I was completely cleared by the in-school enquiry, the fact that Jonny Virgo still remembers the incident shows just how firmly mud sticks.’
Carole couldn’t be certain, but she suspected that Russ’s explanation of this incident had as much relation to the truth as his narrative of why he left the Fethering church choir. He had the skill of finessing history into a version that he found acceptable. That did not mean, though, that he didn’t believe it.
Anyway, the demonstration of his temper was not going to deflect Carole from the course on which she had set out. ‘Going back to the question of whether you’d seen Heather Mallett since you left the All Saints choir …’
‘I’ve already answered that. I …’ He stopped himself, and a new knowingness came into his eyes. ‘Oh, I see. The amateur sleuths of Fethering have been putting their heads together, haven’t they? Examining the evidence, and coming up with their solution to the whodunit mystery? And I am being honoured with the role of perpetrator, am I?’
‘No. There is just a natural concern about—’
‘Natural concern my foot! Natural nosiness more likely! Natural suspicion of the outsider, of anyone who doesn’t fit the box of neatly married conformist!’
His anger was revealing more of his self-image than he probably wanted to give away. Carole found it interesting that both Ruskin Dewitt and KK Rosser, coming from such different directions, shared contempt for the safely married archetype.
‘I’ve had to put up with this kind of discrimination right through my life,’ he went on, ‘particularly when I was teaching. Why can’t people understand that there are some of us who are self-sufficient, who just get on with things, who don’t need to be part of some bloody community?’
Though Russ wasn’t, Carole was aware of the contradictions in what he was saying. His claim to self-sufficiency was nonsense; rarely had she encountered someone who seemed more desperate to be part of a community, any community. He was one of those deluded individuals who saw himself as the life and soul of the parties he never got invited to.
But she didn’t say anything. She couldn’t say anything. Ruskin Dewitt was in full flow.
‘Well, in this case, you can gossip as much as you like, but you’ll never pin the crime on me. Heather Mallett was murdered last weekend, right?’
‘Yes. After her stepdaughter’s wedding.’
‘And do you know where I was last weekend?’ He rose suddenly from his campaign chair and picked up the neat pile of guidebooks. ‘Have you ever been to the Holy Land, Carole?’
‘No.’
‘Maybe you should try it. Concentrating on spiritual matters might possibly cure that nasty suspicious mind of yours. It’s a very inspiring place, you know, the Holy Land. I helped to organize a trip there for the Friends of All Souls Fedborough. A trip from which we only returned on Monday. So, at the time when Heather Mallett was strangled, sixteen High Church Christians from Fedborough can vouch for the fact that I was in a hotel near the Mount of Olives.’ He grinned without humour. ‘Well, Carole, would you like to withdraw your unfounded accusation?’
‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled.
‘I’m glad to hear it. I think, in the circumstances, it would not be appropriate for me to offer you any more coffee.’
‘No, probably not.’ She picked up her handbag and rose from her chair. In the small space, Ruskin Dewitt seemed to loom over her. ‘I’ll be on my way then,’ she mumbled.
He stood back to let her pass. But he didn’t stand back far enough to cease to be threatening. As she got to the front door, his voice arrested her. ‘Would you like to know where I think you should look for Heather’s murderer?’
‘I’d be very interested, yes.’