Three Little Maids (11 page)

‘If he wants to pick up his stuff
, whatever it is, he will have to wait his turn till we test for prints.’

‘This puts a different slant altogether on the case, doesn’t it, guv? Do you think Maureen Carey’s death is connected?’

Kent frowned. ‘What I saw of Yvette’s body before it was taken away made me think that it was done by the same person.’ He shook his head. ‘But now this. I’m up a gum tree for the moment, what was she up to this French filly? Was she on the game and Jones was her pimp? Or was she blackmailing someone? She has most expensive tastes.’

Turner nodded. ‘You can say that again, guv.’

‘And I wouldn’t say that the boyfriend was earning that much as a hotel chef, would you?’

‘She got someone worried by her sudden departure, that’s for sure.’

The sound of heavy feet tramping up the wooden stairs told them that the rest of the team had arrived. Kent opened up the door to them. He gave them a few seconds to take in the disaster scene then said; ‘Let’s go, Turner. We’ll leave you to it, lads. Someone gave it a good going over before we got here. Probably you’ll only get her dabs and Jones’s around the place. But you can never tell. Try the bathroom cabinet. You might find some stray ones on there. She was on the pill. Perhaps Jones was worried about that as far as her parents are concerned.’

Turner glanced surreptitiously at his watch. He was thinking of the chicken salad waiting for him back home and the apple crumble and cream. He was now feeling like a limp lettuce even in his short shirtsleeves and casual pants. Perhaps he ought to have a better try at losing weight. He’d planned to do the lawn for the second weekend running it had been left far too long already. He’d promised Carole he’d make it his priority.

And Carole had her own work cut out, her job as a district nurse, keeping her busy. He wished she hadn’t gone back to nursing now that the children were growing up. The warm weather was not giving up for the day at least, but probably planning to piss down with rain during the next few days to make the Carnival week, the wettest of the year. A gusty sigh escaped him as he tackled the stairs again.

‘Go home, Turner. You look famished. That bacon sandwich couldn’t hold you together for long. Come back after
lunch; I would like to ask Mrs Flitch some more questions about Yvette. They worked together at the Nag’s Head. Perhaps Mrs Flitch could tell us a few things about our French Miss; some things that Cliff Jones neglected to tell us. Our fair Mam’selle must have come into contact with other men in the bar she worked in and perhaps unknown to her boyfriend. Who was she meeting at the chapel and who else had a key to the place?’

20

Kathie Flitch wasn’t pleased to see them, when they walked in to the Saloon bar and asked for her in the Nag’s Head. She flicked a cloth along the bar counter. ‘What do you want this time? I’ve told you all I know about Maureen Carey. You’ll give me a bad name asking so many questions.’ But she was smiling.

‘I would like to ask you how well you know Yvette
Marceau, as she’s worked here with you at different times.’

‘She still does. She’s got time off today. Why are you asking?’ Kathie said gathering up some dirty glasses off the top of the bar. ‘What’s she been getting up to?’

She saw the grim expression on Kent’s face and stopped what she was doing. ‘Oh no! Has something happened to her? I told her to go straight home after she finished work but she wouldn’t listen. Said she was getting a cab. Her boyfriend was working late last night.’

‘Mrs Flitch, I’m sorry to have to break it to you like this. Yvette is dead.’

She cried out and dropped a glass she was rinsing onto the floor where it shattered into pieces at her feet. She stood looking down at it for a moment, or so, with a shocked expression on her pretty face.

‘Leave that for a moment please if you will. Can you come over here, Mrs Flitch, sit down for a moment and tell us what she said to you concerning meeting someone.’

She sat down at the table. ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’ Kent shook his head. ‘Thanks.’ She opened up her purse, fumbled with the pack and gas lighter.

‘So
- what time was it when she left here and was she on her own?’

‘After we’d cleared up the glasses.’ She lit a cigarette and drew hard on it before answering. ‘It was a busy night. The place was full because we had the Karaoke Talent night. It always draws in the punters. So it was nearly midnight before we finished. John our landlord will tell you the same. Yvette told me she was meeting a bloke.’

‘And he was?’

‘She didn’t say who but it wasn’t her boyfriend, Cliff. She’d been meeting another man I think, on the side, especially flush with money, he was. And older. He could be married. I warned her not to play around as Cliff Jones has a reputation for having quite a temper if provoked.’

‘So?’

‘I think she picked up a taxi along the street as I left here. I heard the car door slam. What has Jones got to say? I bet he’s feeling pretty cut up. He was nuts about her. Or doesn’t he know yet?’ She tapped out the ash into the glass ashtray. Colour was coming back now into her pale cheeks.

‘It was Jones that informed us that she was missing, Mrs Flitch. He came into the station first thing. We had no idea of her identity when her body was first found. Her purse was missing and the gold anklet he said she usually wore.’

‘So she could have been mugged and then killed. I’d say that the anklet was worth a great deal. It was for real all right. She showed it to me and it was engraved with her name. Very proud of it she was. I think her parents spoilt her rotten that was half her trouble.’

‘So how well off is Jones? Did she mention anything to you? Was he earning sufficient to spend plenty on her?’

‘She likes
- liked money. Lots of it.’ She drew hard on the cigarette again and Turner watching felt for another sweet in his jacket pocket. He would have to try a patch he thought desperately. ‘And I wouldn’t say that he’s that flush, Inspector. He’s a chef at a hotel. But he does get contracts for putting on special dinners for the swells in town. He aims to open up his own restaurant soon, according to Yvette. Now if you have all you need, I must clear up the broken glass,’ she said stubbing out her cigarette into the glass ash tray.

‘Thank you, Mrs Flitch. You have been very helpful.’

21

‘Jon
- you look bushed, so how’s it going?’

‘Not good, I’m afraid. I won’t be good company this evening, Viviane. Sorry to spoil it for you,’ Jon said when he walked through the side gate into the garden, where he found Viviane with the aid of the watering can trying to undo some of the damage that the heat wave was wreaking on her shrubs and plants. ‘This new victim, her parents are flying over to identify her tomorrow.’

‘Who was she, Jon? You must know if her parents are coming. Flying you say? She’s not local?’

‘She was a French student. Just eighteen.’

Viviane stared back at him and let the water from the can drain away over her sandals and into the lawn. ‘Damn! Sorry Jon, when you told me that there was another girl, I didn’t want to believe it not at first. So is it possible that the two deaths are connected? Can you tell, or is it too early yet?’

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Can’t say for the moment. For God’s sake
, I hope that they aren’t. If they are perhaps it would make things much easier for us to deal with.’

‘You can’t really mean that.’ She stared back at him. ‘You do! Why?’

‘Because it would mean that there’s only one killer to pin down and catch. According to Turner, lovers find those woods irresistible. We think she was dumped there after she was killed elsewhere. Just like Maureen Carey.’

‘So the killer knows all the quiet spots. Where else is he going to strike before you stop him?’ She refilled the watering can from the water butt. ‘He’s running rings around you. Two murders in three days, that’s really going some, isn’t it?’

‘Viviane...’ He put a hand gently on her shoulder for a second and then took it away again. ‘Don’t worry. We will do our best to catch the bastard. What else can I say? I can’t promise anything else. Two families have lost their daughters and I don’t want it to happen again. But we have a clue given us by a taxi man who said that he dropped her off at a chapel near midnight.’

‘A chapel! So late at night! How strange. Does that mean she was meeting somebody who used it? You’ll have that to work on at least. I wish you all the luck that’s going. You’ll get the break. Just when you need it.’

‘Thanks a bundle. Well you know a lot of what goes on around here. You know the locals. You can give me the low down on some of them. If and when I need it.’

She laughed. ‘Now you’re trying to get round me. It’s your job to get to know the locals. But if I can fill you in on anything or anyone I will.’

‘Okay. I’m going to take a shower.’ He grinned. ‘I think I need one and an early night. In the morning I want to check up on the acquaintances and friends of both girls to see if there is any connection.’

Viviane thought on for a long time, hunched up in bed, with the cat pinning her feet down, she worried over what she already knew about the case. Was it possible that there was some real connection between the two girls? When the news broke to the public the following morning that another girl had been murdered, it was going to be difficult to keep it from being blown up in sky-high letters in print by the media. And that wasn’t good for the town’s good holiday reputation it would only attract weirdoes and the press.

22

The next day, Monday, saw the beginning of the Carnival week at last. And anticipation of the daily events to be carried out in Victoria Park, the pier and on the sea front, built up as the posters were on view everywhere announcing The Baby Show and Fancy Dress competitions for children to be held in the park, and dances nightly held in the pier ballroom.

And the big Carnival Float Parade through the town on Saturday, followed up by the presentation of prizes for the best floats, and the Firework Display in the evening in the Victoria Park.

It seemed so unreal to Viviane, considering the two deaths, with all the entertainment going on as usual. But the show had to go on. Although it was bound to affect the party atmosphere generally encouraged during Carnival week. Careful parents were becoming especially vigilant now with their daughters’ safety in mind after dusk. The police force would be kept busy with watching out for drug pushers plus this murder investigation now their prime task.

Viviane didn’t envy Jon. Given that he did have the able assistance of Sergeant Turner at his elbow and some obviously well motivated detectives and uniformed officers. They needed a real break and some genuine leads to follow up that would solve the case sooner than later.

Kent had Turner take down all the names of the male members of the chapel congregation. Amongst them were
Councillor Tom Berkley, the current Town Mayor, and Aiden Ludlam, a Councillor and Headmaster of a local private school for boys. Ludlam, he’d arranged to speak to that Monday. Whether they also knew the French girl he would only find out by speaking to them.

‘Mr. Ludlam, thank you for seeing us this morning. I gather that you have a busy schedule at the Town hall today.’

Aiden Ludlam saw them at his home. It was near some of the town’s private nursing homes, a large red brick house in a quiet select road along the back of the sea front.

Aiden Ludlam got up from his desk as they entered. Kent noted that under that expensive dark blue suit he had a frame that might be as powerful as it was graceful. ‘Yes, Inspector Kent. I am serving on the Police Committee. And our meeting is urgent, today. As you already know, we have our problems with drugs here like any seaside town these days. And these Carnival weeks bring in the drug dealers when they know that our police force are doubly stretched and especially now with these murders to contend with.’

‘I’m afraid that’s very true, sir.’

‘Gwynith. Some refreshments, please?’

Aiden Ludlam, with his leonine head of thick fair hair, and strong handsome features had a striking presence there was no doubt about that. Kent imagined that he must magnetise his captive audience in the chapel with the cadences of his rich voice. It was like looking at a negative film seeing the husband and wife together. You only saw Ludlam. Gwynith Ludlam faded into the background.

‘Tea, Inspector? With lemon or milk? Or coffee? Sergeant Turner?’

‘I would welcome a cup of tea, with milk and two sugars please. The same for you, Turner?’ Turner nodded. ‘Thank you, Mrs Ludlam. For the moment, sir, the deaths of the two girls are our priority.’

Aiden nodded. ‘We are all in a state of shock over Maureen Carey’s death. And now there has been this other one. And we ask ourselves are our Police officers being used in full strength. Is it possible for them to find and interview anyone amongst the holidaymakers who might have met or seen either of the girls? It is a difficult task to cover such a wide field of suspects.’

‘We’re doing our best, sir. I understand that the French girl, Yvette worked behind the bar in the Nag’s Head public house and she would have been noticed by quite a few locals and holidaymakers.’