Chapter 5

They did not continue speaking about Mr. Noakes until a day later. When Hannibal was driving to the school where he taught on Tuesday morning, he saw Theresa just taking out her bicycle from the front yard shed. He stopped and pulled down the window.

"Since when do you go by bike?", he asked. He had never actually seen her drive either, and he had not spotted a car in front of her family's house.

"Usually, I drive only until the parking spot on Cole's Street and then Marcus gives me a lift," she explained. Marcus was a PE teacher at the high school they both worked at. She pushed a strand of her red hair behind her ear. "But Markus fell ill yesterday. He can't give me a lift and I am also taking over his classes today."

"Shall I give you a lift instead?"

"When's your last class?"

"I've got nine today."

"Me too," she said, considered for a second and then pushed her bike back into the shed. A minute later she sat in Hannibal's car.

"Thanks," she said. "Why are you on your way so early?"

"Mr. Greyson asked me to bring a letter for him to the post office. Do you mind a little detour?"

"Of course not."

Hannibal thought that Theresa was a polite woman, always kind and ready to help. But she was also a loner and did not really have friends. At high school, she was good with the kids, and she did not put up with their shenanigans. She apparently knew how to put them in their place, and she had earned the respect and trust of most pupils. Since she was only an assistant teacher, she usually never had one subject with one class during the entire year, but either assisted old or new teachers or substituted them whenever necessary.

"May I ask you a question?" Hannibal asked.

"Sure," she answered.

"Why did you never become a full teacher?"

"I never went to college."

"But you are obviously very bright."

She gave no reaction.

"The pupils like you and you are a good teacher, from what I've heard."

"My father worked for the local post office before his retirement and my mum worked at the supermarket downtown. We couldn't even afford the community college. Besides, I like my job."

"Most people your age want to move downtown."

"Mr. Harris lives here as well. He likes it here, despite the gossip."

"Mrs. Sarandon thinks he is gay. He said we should find him someone," Hannibal laughed. Mrs. Sarandon was so rude. The corners of his mouth curled every time he talked about her.

Theresa must have picked that up. "Mrs. Sarandon does not have a life besides gossip. Mr. Harris is not gay. He is asexual and aromantic." She paused, "he told me a while ago. We went to high school together and I had always sensed that he was different."

Hannibal said nothing until they arrived at the post office. When he returned, Theresa looked as sad as always.

"Where is your mother now?", he asked while starting the motor. He hoped that her parents got divorced.

"She took her own life a while ago," Theresa responded.

Something in her voice threw Hannibal off. It was the slightest intonation that made him think that it might just not have been a suicide but rather homicide. So much for the calm, tranquille suburbs.

In the evening, Hannibal approached the topic of Mr. Noakes again. He had prepared a vegetarian dish which usually put Will in a better mood. Will appreciated the gesture and was willing to talk to his husband about a murder so close to home.

"But we have to plan it through."

"I always plan my murder through," Hannibal took offense. "Unless I am distracted," he added.

"I won't distract you. I will help you."

"Of course you will," Hannibal answered with a smirk on his face. Murder husbands.