Free The Red Herring by Sally Spencer Page A

she is. That’s probably why she’s a sergeant an’ we’re still constables,’ his partner said.
    Though they were sitting close to each other in the deputy head’s cramped office, the gaunt teacher seemed hardly aware of the big policeman’s presence.
    â€˜Was Miss Beale what you might call your girlfriend, Mr Barnes?’ Woodend asked softly.
    The other man looked up. ‘What?’
    â€˜I asked you if Miss Beale was your girlfriend.’
    Barnes shook his head emphatically. ‘No. No. She was nothing like that to me.’
    â€˜Then what
was
she to you?’
    â€˜She was . . . an ordinary friend. I don’t mean that she was ordinary in herself. In fact, she was very special. What I mean is that––’
    â€˜I know what you mean,’ Woodend told him. ‘You met her in this school, did you?’
    â€˜That’s right. We both teach . . . we both
taught
. . . history. But that’s not what really brought us together.’
    â€˜Go on,’ Woodend said encouragingly.
    â€˜I’m a member of the local Baptist church. I don’t know what impression you’ve got of the Baptists – people often do have very odd ideas about us – but the church is a very welcoming place, open to the rich and the poor alike. People travel for miles to worship there. We even have some Americans from the air-force base who––’
    â€˜If you don’t mind me sayin’ so, I think that you’re gettin’ a bit off the point, sir.’
    Barnes nodded. ‘Quite right,’ he agreed. ‘I’m always telling the boys to stick to the subject, and there I go myself, off at a complete tangent.’
    â€˜It’s not always easy to think clearly when you’re upset,’ Woodend said. ‘You were tellin’ me about you an’ Miss Beale.’
    â€˜It must have been the first week of term she came up to me and asked me about the church. She said she hadn’t thought much about religion since well before she went to university, but she was starting to feel an aching void in her life, and she felt that God might fill it for her. Then she asked if she could come to church with me the following Sunday.’
    â€˜How did she know you attended the church?’
    â€˜She must have overheard colleagues talking about it.’
    â€˜An’ why would they have done that?’
    â€˜I beg your pardon?’
    â€˜Other people’s religion isn’t usually a topic for conversation.’
    â€˜Mine is. For some of my colleagues, my faith serves as little more than fodder for their humour.’
    â€˜Aye, there are always a few ignorant buggers around, wherever you go,’ Woodend said. ‘Was Miss Beale already a Baptist?’
    â€˜No, she’d been brought up in the Church of England, but she’d found it hadn’t given her what she needed.’
    â€˜Did she find what she needed in the church?’
    â€˜She’d only been attending for a few weeks, so it’s difficult to say for certain what effect it was having, but she was starting to get to know some of congregation, and given time . . .’
    â€˜Did you see much of her aside from at church?’
    â€˜We’d go for a coffee afterwards. Sometimes a group of us would go somewhere for lunch.’
    â€˜But on other days? Outside school?’
    â€˜She didn’t really have the time. She was working very hard. Giving classes in other institutions.’
    â€˜Aye, I’ve heard about that,’ Woodend said. ‘Why was that? Short of money, was she?’
    â€˜I don’t think she was doing it for the money. She loved to teach. She loved to impart her knowledge to others.’
    â€˜Sounds like she’s a great loss,’ Woodend said.
    â€˜That’s exactly what she is,’ Barnes agreed sadly. ‘A
great
loss.’
    The landlord of the Spinner examined Paniatowski suspiciously.