Three Little Maids (18 page)

‘Okay. I get the message.’

‘I’m glad you do. I thought for a moment I’d got a stuffed shirt on my hands for the rest of the evening.’

They strolled leisurely along the Lower Park road back to her house. There was still the acrid gunpowder smell of the fireworks mixed with the fried onions from the hot dog stall on the warm night air. Viviane sensed that he was winding down gradually now. The pavements were crowded still. By the laughter and loud conversation it sounded as if the evening entertainment had been a great success.

The drivers taking their cars out onto the road again were holding up traffic back into the town centre. Most of them would be parking on the seafront or in the underground car park for the night. She was glad that she wasn’t one of those having to face that.

He was yawning openly. He echoed her thoughts. ‘Thank God. I haven’t got to get on that road amongst that crush before hitting the sack.’

‘Are you going in again tomorrow? Stupid question. There won’t be much let up for you this weekend, I suppose.’

‘More than likely.’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve got little choice. If I want to get on top of it. Can’t afford to miss anything at this stage.’

‘Fancy a drink or anything stronger?’ she said as she unlocked the front door.

‘A cup of tea will do fine. I want a clear head in the morning. Don’t suppose I shall sleep much. Never can when I’m on a case. So if you hear me pacing the floor you know why.’

‘It used to get Bill like that.’

Beazy was waiting for them in the kitchen. Waiting impatiently by the back door. Tail and ears twitching. He didn’t use a cat flap. He was too big for one anyway. She let him out into the back yard. She hadn’t done so earlier. The fireworks would have frightened him. Guy Fawkes night was a `No Go` outing for him as well. He would soon be back in looking for food before bed.

‘That cat is a Goliath,’ Kent watched him stroll over the lawns in a leisurely fashion. His furry bulk just distinguishable in the dusk and then spotlighted for a moment or so by the security light on the patio. ‘He must frighten away all the other cats in your neighbourhood.’

‘Yep. He’s a good watch cat too. He sees off all strangers. You’re highly privileged. He wouldn’t let just anyone in that he doesn’t know. He’d fight them tooth and claw.’ She grinned. ‘He tried to claw the gasman who wanted to read the meter one day. I think he’d do it to the mailman too. Given half a chance,’ she said as she made the tea. ‘He chews up all the rubbish mail and the bills. I’ve got him well trained.’

‘Certainly sounds like it. Say are you still hungry. Viviane? Those hot dogs weren’t that filling for me. Fancy an omelette? That is you have any eggs going spare?’

‘Yes, please. I didn’t cook anything earlier as Simon wasn’t coming in. So if you want to cook it. You most certainly can. I thought you were feeling tired though.’

‘I am. But cooking is good stimulation for my little grey cells, as Hercule Poirot might say. And you can’t go to bed with an empty tummy.’ He grinned. ‘I haven’t eaten properly all day. I missed my fish and chips quota earlier.’

‘I envy you, Jon,’ she said as she ate the golden fluffy omelette filled with cheese and tomato. ‘This is heavenly. You’ve missed your vocation. You could have been a chef at the Ritz. Mrs Frost at the White Rock could do with someone like you. And to top it all you don’t seem to put on an atom of weight no matter what you eat. It’s not fair,’ she protested.

He laughed. ‘I must say I like cooking for someone who really appreciates a good meal. Julie was on her way to being a Vegan. Worried about her weight all the time. Thank God you’ve got more sense.’

‘So do I, worry about my weight.’ She patted her tummy. ‘So don’t tempt me too much. But just the same you can cook a meal like that for me anytime.’

Oh dear. What am I saying? I’m leaving myself wide open, aren’t I? I mustn’t sound like a woman who needs a man. This man in particular. She frowned and carried on eating. And he smiled back at her.

‘Oh, don’t worry, Viviane. I’m not going to make you forget your good resolutions. And if this should worry you I shan’t overstep our friendly relationship. I shan’t have time to do this often while on this case. But I’ve enjoyed this evening we’ve spent together. Although it was partly business. You helped to make it enjoyable for me as well.’

She picked up the empty plates. ‘Thank you, kind sir. I hope that perhaps the presence of the police amongst the crowds saved the evening. It must have stopped the parents of young girls there from being anxious. Seeing the boys in blue mixing in. It was a good move for your part to arrange that.’

He leant back in his chair. ‘Can I hear that cat of yours demanding to come in?’

‘Yes. He knows when it’s his bedtime. And mine.’ She carried plates over to the sink and opened the back door. ‘Come in.’ Beazy strolled in nonchalantly. And stopped in his tracks to glare at Jon. His eyes like burnished amber traffic lights.

‘Right.’ He got up. ‘I think that’s my cue to go.
Forthwith.’

‘Thanks for the supper. And for escorting me this evening. I really enjoyed myself.’

He leant over the stairs and wished her, ‘Goodnight.’

‘Night, Jon. Get some sleep. Forget the case.’

That was another stupid remark to make. Two in one evening. Damn! Damn! Viviane lay awake thinking it over. He must be worried about the case. Although he’d hidden it as well as he could. But she’d been a policeman’s wife. She knew the signs. What was behind the motives for the killings? None of it seemed to make much sense so far. She tried to assemble the clues in her mind. Two girls who had never met but were connected by death and the method of killing the same. It had to be a random choice by the killer. But was it? And would the killings stop now?

32

At two a.m. the police station received an irate phone call. ‘Major Colby here. We have a lunatic joy rider creating havoc in Foxglove Grove. Waking up the residents. It’s disgraceful. Something should be done about it! Straight away! I want him stopped and caught immediately before they kill someone or themselves.’

‘Yes, sir. Do you notice the make or number of the car, Major?’

‘Of course. I waited out in the street and the third time it spun round I took down the last three numbers. It was a black Mercedes by the way. It was one of these youngsters from the estate running wild. Must have picked it up from downtown. From the car park or the sea front. They know you have your hands full with the murders you’re dealing with. It’s about time these young idiots were taken in hand. Bring back the birch I say.’

The Major went on from several minutes in a similar vitriolic vein. This wasn’t the first time the old chap had phoned up about a similar disruption in his neighbourhood. But it seemed he had a genuine cause for anger here. The Police car was sent out but reported back that all signs of the joy riders had gone. Which was only to be expected. The police officers spoke to the Major and took down his report. And peace descended on Foxglove Grove once again.

33

It seemed almost inevitable to Kent and Turner that another body should be found early the following morning. A young girl killed and left in the same fashion as the previous two. Jon heard about it from Turner and was
fuelled with anger instantly. It served to justify his earlier bad feelings about the case.

The body was discovered by the Head Park keeper Ralph Toomey, while doing his early rounds on the Sunday morning in the Victoria Park.

He was on his way back to his early breakfast after checking up on the large aviary of lovebirds and budgerigars in the park. His early visit was mainly to see how they were. All the fuss with the noisy show, the crowds and the firework display could have frightened them silly. And they were nesting. He was worried about them. The peacocks, he’d put in the larger aviaries especially out of harm’s way. They seemed as lively as ever. And squawking at their enforced imprisonment for the night away from their usual tree perches.

From the distance he spotted a splash of bright colour between the green leaves of a large rhododendron bush. At first, he thought it was cluster of brilliant blooms he was looking at
but they were the wrong colour. Then pausing to investigate closer, he pulled the leafy branches apart saw a glimpse of dark hair and thought that someone had taken a under the sheltering bush. Or indulged too much and crashed out. Easy enough to get overlooked after the late night show finished. And the crowds dispersed.

Toomey lived in the Head Keepers cottage by the main gates. He didn’t like to think he’d missed anyone before closing up. Pushing back the leafy branches further in his haste, breaking off the flower petals which fell like wedding confetti onto the bare young limbs now exposed to the sunlight, he quickly rea
lised that these weren’t likely to be moved without an urgent call to the police. This was a murder victim. And she was in his park. He felt sick and panicky. And wanted to throw up.

He drew in a deep breath and broke out into a cold sweat. His mouth drying up on him suddenly. Swallowing hard, he forced some saliva back into his mouth. And
, removing his Keeper’s cap, pushed his shaking fingers through his damp hair, wondering how long the police would take to act. Finally, getting his panic attack under control, he used his cell and contacted the police station.

‘Toomey, Head Park Keeper speaking. You’ve got to come to Victoria Park straight away. I’ve found a girl’s body,’ he announced shakily. ‘Er
- near the bird aviary.’

‘Right, stay where you are. Scene of Crime officers will be with you shortly, sir.’

Staying on the spot, he cautiously took another look at the body. The girl was naked but for the brightly coloured silk scarf wrapped around her slender neck which had been bruised and crushed like a flower stem. Toomey hesitated, feeling sick. Her swollen face wasn’t a pretty sight. Her protruding tongue and glassy blood streaked eyes frightened him. The last person she’d seen with them was the killer.

And his first inclination was to throw his linen jacket over her. But knew he would be making a mistake by touching her. He could disturb the DNA or any important clues the police forensic team would be looking for. They would be narked if he disturbed anything. His cell rang shrilly in his jacket pocket making him jump. And the peacocks displaying to their hens screeched loudly beside him on the lawn.

‘Where are you Ralph? Worrying about those silly birds again, I suppose? I’ve cooked your breakfast. Mushrooms, pork sausages and bacon. Are you coming, love? It’ll spoil if it’s left any longer in the oven.’

‘I-I can’t come for a bit. I’ve had to call the police. They’ll be coming through the gates any minute. Any sign of ‘em yet?’

‘The Police! Yes. There’s a police car just drawn up in the road. And there’s some men coming through the gate. In white overalls and uniforms and detectives, I think. What’s wrong, Ralph? What’s happened? Are you all right?’

‘Now, don’t fret yourself, Sandra. Sit down. And listen carefully to me. We’ve got a body in here. A girl’s body. I-I’ve just found her.’ There was a cry of alarm at the other end of the line. ‘Don’t get yourself upset now. Or you’ll do yourself and the baby no good. I’ll be home soon. When they’ve finished with me here. First I’ll have to answer their questions. You can forget my breakfast though. I don’t fancy it now. Just a piece of toast will do.’

34

Turner snatched up a piece of buttered toast and ignored the tempting pieces of smoked bacon that his wife was cooking. She had just come in from seeing to one of her elderly patients, Mrs Barnes
, who’d had a bad turn at home that morning. He poured out another cup of strong saffron coloured tea and heaped in sugar by the spoonful. She looked over at him anxiously. ‘You sure you don’t want a bacon sandwich, love?

‘No, thanks.’

‘Is it another killing, Stan?’

He sighed heavily. Nodded. ‘Seems like it, love. The Scene of Crime officers are there. And it’ll be another lousy long day for the team traipsing around. Making house calls. Knocking on doors. And the Incident Room on full alert. Oh, go on then, love. I’d better have a rasher or two, I suppose. Make me a couple of sandwiches. Don’t know when I’ll be back in. It promises to be another scorcher too. So I’ll fancy nothing too heavy, tonight.’

‘A light salad then? I’ve got some ham in or there’s cold chicken.’

‘That’ll do nicely. Just our luck I’m on and you’re free this weekend. Still there’ll be no leave for anyone. Give your mother a call. If you’re worried about Mrs Barnes. Ask her to keep an eye on the kids this morning. She offered
, remember? Then give the kids the picnic in the garden, I should this afternoon. Fill up the paddling pool for them. Sorry it’s happened like this on our day out.’

Carole Turner sighed too. She had hoped they could do something special this weekend. Take a trip out into the country. Let the kids run loose a bit. Take a picnic basket. And get away from the crowded beaches and the holidaymakers. She was frightened by the way the case was building
up but she didn’t want to worry Stan. She stirred her cup of tea and with one eye on Emma feeding her rabbit in the garden said; ‘It is another young girl, isn’t it?’