‘So perhaps we’d better have a chat with Roger Welbeck and your Mayor, Turner. And some more with Raymond Perkins.’
‘The parents of the girl are due to arrive shortly, guv. They lost no time once they were contacted.’
24
The Incident Room was filled with activity and noise, computers busy and phones and cells answered and ringing. There had been talk earlier in the year from the town hall of reducing some of the lower ranks. Shannon had fought hard against it. There were rising problems with recruitment. House prices and rentals were high in the town and there was always the ongoing fight against drugs.
Could be thought Turner, answering the phone that they were on the wrong track here entirely. It could be a stranger in the town picking on vulnerable young women. With so many holidaymakers on one of the busiest week of the season it was a tough task. They were interviewing and chasing up all known sexual offenders. Trying to trace any come in from out of town. Shannon had given a pep talk to everyone and they were working flat out.
Kent did some checking for himself on records. According to the Essex police, Terry Bolton had changed his name to Williams for his own protection after coming out of prison eight years ago but he was involved in a road accident shortly afterwards and was killed. Reading this served to quiet some of his fears but not those that told him that there could be worse to come if the killer struck again.
Viviane heard Kent come in about ten. She heard him sneezing on the stairs. He would be trying to wind down. Another day to face tomorrow and more people to see. She remembered Bill when he was on a heavy case. Jon wouldn’t need her to talk about it; he would want to forget his work if it was possible once he came in.
But she was mistaken. A knock at the door came shortly afterwards.
‘Yes? Jon?’
He put his head round her kitchen door where she was preparing Simon’s lunch for the next day. ‘Viviane, may I talk to you a minute or so? That is if you’re not too busy.’
‘Simon’s in his room. You can talk in here.’
‘I want you to give me some info on one or two local characters, if you can. Turner is a gem. A real goldmine of information but he has the eyes of a policeman. Tell me what you know about Aiden Ludlam for instance.’
‘What do I know about Aiden Ludlam! Oh boy! A real pillar of society and a bit of a killjoy if you enjoy a tipple he doesn’t drink much, only a couple of glasses of wine at the most. He was a junior teacher who married the headmaster’s daughter and took over the joint when his father-in-law retired.
‘He’s a bright light on the Police Committee and a good father and husband. He has a nice little wife in Gwynith and two small daughters. He also has a great love of music and helps to support a youth orchestra in the town and is appearing in the amateur operatic company. They put on the Pirates of Penzance last year and it’s the Mikado this year. He has a good tenor voice by the way. What would be his motive for killing Maureen, none I would say unless he’s a psychopath? I suppose Maureen might have formed a passion for him, as he is quite charismatic if you like his type,’ she said doubtfully. ‘But I can’t see him risking so much for a sleazy affair with an underage trollop like Maureen.’
‘Yes I get your point. So what else does this charmer do for the community? I wonder.’
‘Now you’re being sarky. I’m sure he is a freemason. Along with Tom Berkley. But he’s as different from Aiden as chalk and cheese and I think Berkley is under pressure at the moment with the wedding on the horizon and his wife and daughter calling all the shots.’
She chuckled. He was casting envious eyes over the food she was preparing. ‘Are you hungry? Help yourself to a sandwich. Simon will come down presently and have a midnight feast I expect.’
He grinned. ‘I’ve increased my appetite and my girth twice over since I’ve been down here. I had cod and chips earlier. It’s the sea air, I suppose.’
She chuckled. ‘It’s lucky you don’t put on weight. You eat at such odd times and so often. It comes with the job, I suppose. Stan Turner is always scoffing peppermint lumps in between meals which doesn’t help his intentions to diet and give up smoking.’
‘So I’ve noticed. He’s a happy enough bloke though. Obviously more able to handle it, not like Julie and myself,’ he said biting into a chicken sandwich from the plate appreciatively.
‘Julie your ex? Did you ever bump into her afterwards, Jon? Tell me if I’m being nosy.’
‘Yeah-once. She married her chap, sent me a Christmas card last year and let me know she was expecting a baby. I suppose I’ll get a card any day now telling me that she’s had it. With the sex, weight and name,’ he growled and helped himself to another sandwich.
She studied his rueful face. ‘You didn’t want children?’
He stared back at her. ‘Actually I did. But it didn’t happen for us. Luckily, I suppose, as our marriage didn’t work. So - tell me more about this business tycoon Berkley. He’s the local mayor and held in with high esteem in the town and like Ludlam he’s on the police committee too, I understand.’
‘Yes, he has a son, Michael, studying at Ludlam’s school. Only the best for Berkley’s son and heir. He’s more academic than his father though. I doubt if he’ll want to take on the family business. Simon knows him quite well. Plays rugby with the local schoolboy team occasionally. He’s a nice boy, came here several times. Good looking and rather shy. It’s a pity; he’s not interested because the business came down from Jack Berkley, Tom’s great-grandfather. And Tom is really serious about that.’
‘Then there’s Roger Welbeck. You probably know him? He’s a heating engineer.’
‘He fitted this place up with gas radiators when first I moved in. I didn’t fancy building up coal fires and he’s checked on the library heating. And, I think he’s been putting in the radiators for Esmeralda Corrie in her flat, while she’s staying at the hotel. He’s a local and well established. His grandfather was a fisherman and his father before him too but Roger became a landlubber. There’s not much room in fishing these days. His brother took on the boat. What else do you want to know? You’ve met his wife.’
‘But what about Roger himself? His wife told me that she was aware that Maureen Carey was not short about coming forward. And didn’t care if she knew it. There was a good motive for murder. If he didn’t want his wife to know, Maureen was gabby enough to invite Sara’s dislike while she was being painted. But Roger was perhaps not aware of this and was afraid about his wife’s reaction.’
She looked at the paper with the names written down on it. ‘You’ve got Raymond Perkins here. You can’t think, Jon, that this youngster killed Maureen, do you? ‘
‘Well - he’s not given us the correct information about his whereabouts on Thursday evening, Viviane. He’s keeping something back. Partly I think because he’s afraid of his gran. He’d been in the Nag’s Head and not where he said he was. And he does have a motive. Jealousy. Maureen provoked him deliberately by telling she had another admirer. He’d been getting his oats frequently and then she cuts him off. He’s bound to feel rejected and angry. He’s young, it’s all those hormones and he feels real bad.’
‘But you don’t know that it is anyone of these. It could be someone else entirely. Surely if the same person attacked both girls these motives wouldn’t come into play, Jon. Not unless you can find a connection between any of these men and both young girls.’
‘Hmn, I suppose we can strike out Aiden Ludlam. Dull as ditchwater, despite the outer charisma. But both Roger and Tom Berkley are still on the list as possibles, and, according to Mrs Flitch, Raymond Perkins got a twinkle in his eye whenever Yvette served him in the Nag’s Head but didn’t relish Yvette treating him like a silly kid. It could be he wanted to take out his anger on her after he’d killed Maureen. Killing becomes easier a second time.’
‘I don’t believe it.’ She picked up a sandwich and nibbled it thoughtfully.
‘Raymond could have more wits about him than we g
ive him credit for - and intended to make the deaths look like a psycho’s handiwork so that he wouldn’t be suspected. Meanwhile we’re still checking up on his movements that evening and Yvette’s after she left the Nag’s Head.’ He paused.
‘And that brings her boyfriend, Cliff Jones, into it. We know that Eric Turner, the taxi driver took her to the chapel. Yvette was also playing around and I’ve been warned that Jones was on a pretty short fuse. How would he react if he discovered she was cheating on him?’
‘Both girls then were murdered in the same fashion and this information has not been released to the general public. So - did Jones plan to pick out some another unsuspecting girl before killing Yvette and it was Maureen who was his first choice,’ Viviane said slowly. ‘I can’t see that happening, can you?’
‘No and I don’t like this line of thought one bit,’ he groaned. ‘It only serves to back up the first idea I had that we’ve got a serial killer here - a real crazy nut.’
‘Or a clever murderer.’
25
She heard Kent leave the house before she’d made her early morning coffee. They had talked on well into the night. About old times, laughed a lot and discussed those things that were harder to discuss and divulge in the light of day. ‘I lost my mother when I was ten,’ she said. ‘My Dad’s remarried. Are your parents still living?’
‘I was adopted, Viviane,’ he announced it quite casually.
‘Really, Jon?’
‘Yep… I was only a few hours old when I was left in a phone box in the grounds of a London hospital and adopted by Jim Kent and his wife Margaret. My Mum and Dad. And two brothers and a sister Briony as well. I had a great home life.
‘So you never knew your real mother?’
‘No. And I could have been just like Raymond, if I’d had a single parent mum. I didn’t have the problems and trauma that the lad has obviously gone through. I consider myself a damn sight luckier than he was.’ He said getting up from the chair. ‘Better call it a day I think.’
‘Yes, I think so too.’
‘The old boy’s raring to go this morning, isn’t he?’ Simon remarked cheerfully as he came down for breakfast. ‘It must be the sea air here agreeing with him.’
She frowned. ‘I expect he’s got to keep well on top of things.’
He laughed. ‘I know, Mum. I can still remember how fraught and edgy Dad used to get when he was on a case.’
‘Well, I’m glad you do then. So don’t hassle Jon when you see him. And not so much of the old boy. You’ll wish you were in such good nick when you’re his age. ‘
‘Jon is it now?’ He grinned. But shut up when he saw her frown.
*
Viviane groaned when she saw Esmeralda’s tall, imposing figure advancing towards her. She was working on the book reservations at her desk. She put down her pen and waited with a wary smile for her old friend.
‘Good morning, Viviane. How are you? You usually take off round the countryside today. But I felt sure that you were working here at base. And here you are,’ she declared triumphantly. ‘So I haven’t wasted my time in coming in.’
‘No. Joan is having a turn this week instead. It does us all good to have a change of routine.’
What was it Esmeralda wanted to say? Viviane wondered. She felt sure that it was to do with the death of the French girl. And she was right.
‘You know that what I said last Friday came true,’ Esmeralda said. ‘The Tarot cards cannot lie.’
Viviane heard and made no comment. It would be a waste of time anyway. Esmeralda was prepared to enlarge on it readily. ‘That young French girl came to consult me in my booth on Friday. She wanted advice from the Tarot. And I told her she was treading on dangerous ground with the two men she was involved with - ’
‘Two men?’
‘Yes. One of them was the chef at my hotel. Cliff Jones. A volatile, angry young man. I saw them together afterwards on the sea front. They were arguing in a public place. Such a pretty young girl she was. She wouldn’t listen to my advice.’ She shook her head and the amber beads clinked around her thin neck like temple bells.
‘Do the young ever listen? You warned her obviously.’
‘Of course.’ Esmeralda drew herself up imperiously. ‘I have to say what I see. But I never mention death even if I see it in the cards. Just a warning of the danger surrounding her. She wouldn’t listen. Instead I got some choice French words from her that I wouldn’t choose to interpret,’ she said with a look of disdain on her strong features.
‘It is possible, then, she was playing a difficult game if Cliff Jones is so jealous natured.’
‘Yes. Oh, yes. She most definitely was. And she could have paid for it with her life.’ Esmeralda tossed her turbaned head again. ‘Your Police Inspector should speak to him. He could be the killer. They should investigate his movements that night. And find out too who else she was meeting. She didn’t deny that there was someone else.’
Viviane grimaced. ‘My Police Inspector! Steady on. He’s my tenant, Esmeralda. That is all. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. Please be careful what you’re saying. Gossip spreads quickly here. And you of all people should know that.’
Esmeralda grinned. ‘Just as you say, Viviane. I’m sure you are a model landlady and very circumspect.’
Viviane sighed heavily, and drummed the desk top lightly with her fingers. She doubted she could control Esmeralda’s mischievous tongue. ‘Have you got a book you want renewed, Esmeralda? You’ll have to go to the counter for that. Or have you just come in for a chat?’
‘Viviane! I’m merely passing on what I know about the girl because I’m sure you must have the Inspector’s ear. And he’d take it much better from you instead of from a nosy gossipy old woman.’ She grinned wickedly. ‘That foolish girl had two men strung out on a barbed wire line. If I was her father, I’d have her paddled her bottom when she was small. You could say she got her just deserts. But I wouldn’t be so unkind. Tell that Police Inspector that he has to find the evil man who killed her. Or I’ll make it my business to seek him out myself. If I have to call on the spirit world to help me.’
And with a wide sweep of her long purple skirt she swept out of the library glass door majestically.
Oh dear! Perhaps she should have been more grateful for the information, Viviane thought afterwards. If Esmeralda was so certain that there were two men involved with Yvette than there was. But who was the other man?
She had more time to think of this when she took her lunch out onto the sea front. It must be a local man to have had the time to impress himself on the girl. He’d have to be plausible to persuade her to have a date with him.
She eased herself back into the warm shelter seat which she now shared with a couple of pensioners enjoying the sunshine. She took a bite out of her tuna sandwich, chewed it, and wondered how Yvette’s parents were feeling right now. They’d sent her over with their blessing. And she would be sent back to them in a coffin. How could she have borne it if Jill had been the victim? She was glad for the moment that she was studying in London. And hoped she wasn’t tempted to make a trip down to see her. Not yet. Not while the killer stalked the streets.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the girl she’d met up with on the Friday lunch time. She was walking along the seafront swinging her canvas tote bag off her shoulder as she talked animatedly to Raymond Perkins. He was listening intently and laughing. Viviane sat back in her seat to observe the young couple as they passed the shelter.
The girl’s thin face was pink and glowing. She looked as if she’d had a shower recently. Her dark hair was shining. Where had she met Raymond? He looked as if he’d found a gold coin with a metal detector on the beach. Viviane hoped he wasn’t about to be let down again. She had her own doubts about the girl, remembering the stolen purse.
But she was young, only a child still. What was she doing here, living rough and so hard up that she was reduced to stealing? What was she running away from? W
ho was she running away from? Perhaps she deserved to have a good turn done for her. And it seemed as if Raymond was doing his best to make it come true.
They strolled leisurely along the front to the pier. He must have taken the day off. Or maybe he didn’t work on Mondays? Did his grandmother approve of this new girlfriend? It was funny, but she looked quite a bit like Pam. June Perkins had shown her a picture of her daughter once.
*
Yvette had been identified by her distraught parents. And all the formalities gone through. Stolid, thin moustached M’sieur Marceau was distressed, angry and bewildered. His smartly dressed, wife Jeanne, wept, her tears making mascara rivers down her thin rouged cheeks. It was obvious to Kent that their student daughter had kept a great deal from her parents. Yes, they knew that she had been working part-time behind the bar in the Nag’s Head. But had no idea that she was dating Cliff Jones when his name was mentioned to them by Kent.
Madame Marceau asked, ‘Where is the gold anklet? Her Papa gave it to Yvette for her birthday? This Cliff, does he know about it?’ she said vehemently when Yvette’s personal things were shown to her. It was obvious it had gone missing as it had not been found in her room amongst her other trinkets. Some of them, when examined, were valuable. Presents from her doting parents or from someone else? Kent wondered.
Kent promised that they would be on the lookout for it. He didn’t add that the killer was a trophy taker and more than likely had taken it. Her mother already obviously thought that the motive for her daughter’s killing was robbery. Possibly, but unlikely Kent thought. Better she thought that for the moment than to know the truth that Yvette was killed by a psycho. They arranged to stay on for a few days longer till the inquest was held and made arrangements for their daughter’s body to be sent home.
The Medical Examiner gave his verdict shortly afterwards. He scowled as he announced it to the waiting detectives.
‘She hadn’t eaten for some hours. She’s well nourished. Would have been a pretty girl. Older than the other one by a couple of years, I would say.’ He sighed. ‘Not a virgin. But no sign of sexual activity or penetration before death, which would have taken place about one o`clock. Or shortly before. And was moved I would say an hour or so later.’ Kent nodded in agreement.
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