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Back Dancing With the Virgins Save as PDF
Chapters (44)
  1. Dedication
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. Acknowledgements
  41. Author’s Note
  42. About the Author
  43. Also by Stephen Booth
  44. About the Publisher

‘Ever been there?’

‘Couldn’t say.’

‘I’m asking you to say.’

‘Did some place get burgled? It wasn’t me. And if you’re saying it was, I want that solicitor now.’

‘Nothing like that, Mr Sugden. Take it easy.’

‘What then? What’s it all about? You try anything else on, and you’ll be in dead trouble. It’s my human rights.’

‘You learned a lot in prison, didn’t you, Mr Sugden?’

‘Enough.’

‘What we’re interested in is whether you were in Totley on the night of Wednesday 22nd October,’ said Fry.

‘Wednesday 22nd October. You said it before. The day after I came out.’

There was a triumphant look on Sugden’s face. Fry had seen it on faces so often before. She could practically hear the dialogue that went with it. ‘I suppose you’re going to claim you were never there,’ she said.

‘Am I?’ said Sugden.

‘That’s what they all say,’ said Fry. ‘ “I was never there.” We get sick of hearing it.’

‘That Wednesday I was in the pub. Two or three pubs. There’s people will tell you that. Alibis.’

‘Move forward to Friday 24th October, then. Were you in a car in Totley that night?’

‘A car?’ Sugden laughed. ‘My wife sold the car when I went inside. You’d have thought she was hoping I wouldn’t be coming out again.’

‘You might have hired a car.’

‘Never in my life. Friday night? I think I went to the pub again.’

‘A varied social life, then.’

Sugden shrugged. He was gaining confidence.

‘That’s what you did both nights?’ asked Hitchens.

‘Yeah.’

‘You weren’t selling stolen video recorders, by any chance?’

‘Hey,’ said Sugden, ‘I think that’s a “no comment”.’

‘We’d really like to eliminate you from our enquiries, Mr Sugden.’

‘Well, it wasn’t like that. Right? And anyway . . .’

‘Yes?’

‘I was never there.’

17

The old cattle market was close to Edendale railway station. The overgrown tracks that ran alongside the market were where the cattle waggons had once been unloaded, in the days when animals were moved by train. These days, they came in by trailer and by huge cattle transporters that brought half of Edendale town centre to a halt on market days as they attempted to negotiate the narrow corners.