The Writer by RB Banfield Page B

and let him go on through.”
    “I can’t let anyone go past
me like that,” Ken said to her. “You know what sort of bad luck it
is?”
    “Bad luck?” asked
Dale.
    “It’s never wise to overtake
an undertaker.”
    “Yes, and you’ve never let
anyone go past you in your life!” said Sal.
    “Please, madam!” Dale
snapped at her.
    “Well, so I went over the
bridge first,” said Ken, “as I was entitled, and when it was their
turn to cross it, they came at me so close and fast they nearly
caused me to crash. It was like they were trying to get
me.”
    “This is very interesting.
Was the van leaving town?”
    “Yes sir, it was on the
direction out of town, and good riddance to it.”
    “Has anyone here heard of
this speeding white van?” Andy asked the room.
    “Can see you’ve found your
murderer, right there,” Two-Tooth announced.
    “Lock him up and throw away
them keys,” agreed Elbow. “We don’t need those city-types speeding
through here, abusing our respected and trusted.”
    “Didn’t think it’d be that
simple, did you, Dale?” Andy asked him.
    “Can’t say I did, no,” Dale
said with a sigh, and then felt a very strong urge for coffee.
“Sal, I think I’ll take that drink now.”
    “That’s my boy,” said Andy.
“The body won’t get any colder, but the beer might get
warmer.”
    Dale sat on a stool to the
bar and became transfixed by a fresh cup of coffee provided by
Sal.
    “Guess that does it,” Andy
said to the room. “Mystery solved. Thank you for
coming.”
    “You’re not serious?” asked
Sophie, who was standing near to him. She had heard about how Dale
had bossed everyone around at the murder scene, and yelled at
people for no reason. She knew that such manners might influence
people of Gendry, but not anyone from the city.
    “What was your name?” Dale
asked her.
    “Sophie. I’m the
granddaughter of Susan Tyle.”
    “She’s staying at the
boarder place,” Andy said to Dale. “She’s from the
city.”
    “You’re not in the habit of
speeding, are you Sophie?” Dale asked her before he took a
heart-warming sip of his coffee. “How fast you like to go? Like to
push that pedal down, do you?”
    “I’m not answering that,”
Sophie said, indignant at their attitude.
    “She doesn’t even have a car
to drive,” Andy said with a dismissive laugh. “Let alone a white
van.”
    “But I’m sure, if she did,”
said Sal, “she would drive carefully. A nice girl is our Sophie.
Susan never stops talking about her, and always good
news.”
    “I’m satisfied with Mr
Giblett’s testimony,” Dale said to Sophie, now a great deal
calmer.
    “These city drivers,” agreed
Andy, “always on the run, think of our town just as some nuisance,
some blot on the landscape where they need to drop their speed, and
even that’s not a good enough reason to be here. We need tougher
measures to slow them down.”
    “Surprises me that you don’t
already,” said Dale.
    “I’ll get onto that when I
can,” said Andy. “Talk to the mayor about soon as he gets back from
his holiday.”
    Dale laughed at that,
feeling more relaxed. “Where does someone from Gendry go for their
holidays? You wouldn’t like the city. Do you go visit other towns
similar?”
    Gene Best walked up to them,
as if signalled to do so by the conversation mentioning the town
mayor. The ex-mayor with still a lot of popularity, he commanded a
strong presence wherever he went, and people still respectfully
moved out of his way.
    “Don’t you go building any
more street signs, Handisides,” Gene said with a croaky yet strong
voice. “The place is full of those eyesores already. We need to get
rid of half of them, which I will do as soon as I’m
re-elected.”
    “Cool down, Gene,” said Sal.
“You’ve had your chance as mayor, and I didn’t see you tearing down
any signs back then. Let Andy and Dale sort out this latest
fracas.”
    “But you are going to check
all the cars in town for any