Three Little Maids

by Patricia Scott

  ‘Yes, I know that boy Raymond Perkins. He lives just down the road from me. Of course that’s why you’re making enquiries. He works at Carey’s Funeral Parlour, doesn’t he? And he was one of the official mourners at my Aunt Amelia’s funeral the other week. He looks so sad and dramatic in his black mourning suit, and that lock of hair flopping over his forehead.’ A young woman enthused when she was questioned. ‘I think I’ve seen him around town with that last girl though. Yes - he was on the pier with her.’ She pointed out Maureen.

  ‘And with the other one I think too.’ She studied Jodie carefully. ‘Yes I remember seeing her now. I saw those posters. But you don’t connect with them in the flesh, do you? Not at first. She was walking with him on the pier. I work on the candy floss machine weekends. And I noticed him because he looks different in jeans and sweat shirt.

  ‘Now that girl, that’s the other one. She’s the French student right? Well - she went into Esmeralda’s Tarot booth and came out again in an uppity mood. Looked upset. Afterwards she had an almighty spat with her boyfriend on the sea front. He looked like he could belt her one. I hope I’ve been able to help some, officer.’

  ‘You have, thank you.’

  ‘So Yvette had stormy rows with her boyfriend, Cliff Jones. Interesting. He’s quite a barnstorming character. But I don’t think he’s the type to fit up the other two girls. He was set on making his fortune with fixing the black on Tom Berkley.’

  ‘So team, it looks like it settles down on Raymond Perkins. We’ve got to bring him in for questioning. And phone Forensics. Find out what’s happening about the van.’

  49

  ‘Raymond Perkins, we’re taking you down to the police station for questioning. You do not need to say anything in case it is used in evidence against you in court...’

  This statement produced a cry of alarm from his grandmother and bewilderment and anger from the young man in question.

  ‘I’ve not done anything. I didn’t kill those girls.’

  ‘Mr. Meadows to see Raymond Perkins.’

  Raymond looked up in surprise to see the young solicitor entering his cell. ‘Good afternoon, Mr. Perkins. I’m Martin Meadows, your solicitor. And I’ve been retained by your grandmother, Mrs Perkins to see that you get the best defence possible.’

  ‘I’m not guilty. I didn’t murder those girls.’

  ‘Then it’s up to you to help me prove it. They are charging you with the three deaths. You say you are innocent, Mr. Perkins.’

  ‘That’s right, I am. Look - I loved Maureen. I was crazy about her, Mr. Meadows. I don’t know who killed her or why. It wasn’t me,’ he declared hotly.

  ‘According to her friend Susan Flitch you quarrelled with Maureen. She told you she was meeting someone else that evening. And you were angry. Very angry. You threatened to kill her if she dated someone else.’

  ‘That’s not true. Susan doesn’t like me. She’s jealous. She’d say anything. She didn’t like Maureen going out with me. She would do anything to cause trouble between us. She made Maureen fall out with me.’

  ‘And you didn’t say at any time that you would kill her?’

  ‘No! Well I might have said something like that. I was angry. She liked hyping me up. Liked to see me get good and mad, Maureen did. I think I said I’d swing for her, yeah. But that doesn’t mean anything these days, does it?’

  The solicitor studied his young client and said; ‘You get life if you’re found guilty. It would be three life sentences for three killings. You’ve got a temper according to a neighbour of yours, Mrs Flitch. You used to give your grandmother a bad time when you were younger. You had an alternation with Yvette in the Nag’s Head on the night she died. You could have heard Yvette give the cab driver direction to take her to the chapel.’

  Raymond shifted on the cell bed. ‘So what! I can’t help that. I wasn’t to know that she going to be killed?’

  ‘No. But then there was Jodie. A homeless girl, you befriended for a couple of days. Did you think you were on to a good thing with her? But she didn’t want anything more than friendship. She was only fifteen. She got scared. And she ran out on you. Or tried to till you caught up with her again. You were good and mad. You weren’t about to be shit on again. So you followed Jodie in the van. Offered a lift to the hostel but instead you took her to the chapel where you took the other two girls.’

  ‘No!’ He shook his head, his hair flopping over his forehead into his eyes. He pushed it back and spoke out. ‘Look, Mr. Meadows, you’ve got it all wrong. It’s all lies. I really liked Jodie. She was all right she was. I guess she got scared after I left her. I don’t know who took her away.’

  Martin Meadows studied his young client’s disillusioned face. He looked desperately wretched and tired. He was not used to being confined in a cell. And it was going to be for some time longer. Kent would ask for extra time from the courts. They weren’t about to let him go. He was the only suspect that filled the bill as far as they were concerned. They hadn’t got that much solid evidence as yet. But they obviously hoped that Perkins might confess to the crimes given enough pressure. And he was there to see that it didn’t happen.

  ‘Tell them the truth, Mr. Perkins. Answer their questions to the best of your ability. And you’ll be fine. Don’t get flustered. Or lose that temper of yours. Or you’re lost.’

  50

  ‘Interviewing Raymond Perkins. Interviewing officer in charge, Inspector Kent. Those also present are Detective Sergeant Turner. And Mr. Meadows, Perkins solicitor. Time 2pm August the 8th. How old are you, Raymond Perkins?’

  ‘Nineteen on the fourteenth of February.’

  ‘Raymond Perkins you have been brought here to answer to the charge of murder on three counts.’

  ‘I haven’t done anything. I didn’t kill anyone.’ He slammed his clenched fist down on the table and viewed the interrogating officers with angry eyes. ‘I didn’t do it!’

  ‘Raymond Perkins you were seen speaking to all three girls on the days that they were killed.’

  He pushed back the hair from his forehead. ‘I didn’t hurt them.’

  ‘Your fingerprints were on the door handle in the meeting room at the chapel.’

  ‘So what! I had cups of tea in there with my gran. And I used the toilet.’

  ‘You took Maureen there before you killed her.’

  ‘No, I didn’t. But she made me take her there once before. Weeks before she died. She had a bet with me that I wouldn’t.’

  ‘You chatted up Yvette Marceau, the French girl. Tried to date her. And lost your temper because she told you where to go, didn’t she Raymond? Told you were just a silly kid.’

  ‘No-o!’ He buried his head in his arms on the table.

  ‘There were witnesses to this in the Nag’s Head.’

  ‘Perkins does not answer.’ Turner spoke into the tape machine.

  ‘And the third girl - Jodie Charters. You accompanied her on the seafront where you were seen together and later at the Firework Show. Is that correct? Please answer when questioned, Raymond.’

  He lifted his head to answer, ‘Yes.’

  ‘You borrowed the Carey’s van at odd times. You used it sometimes for a bit of hanky-panky with Maureen. The more dangerous it was the better for our young madam. You used it to take her body to the place on the cliffs.’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’ He shook his head. ‘I swear I didn’t harm her, Mr. Turner. I walked to the chapel to see if Maureen was meeting that other bloke there on the Saturday night. It was late. She’d been there all right-I smelt her perfume. She used some expensive stuff called Opium that Mrs Flitch had. I felt sick. I knew she’d been there with someone else.’

  ‘You’re lying. You lied when you said you went on the pier.’

  ‘I’m telling the truth now. It’s my gran. She doesn’t like me drinking.’

  ‘After you met up with Maureen, you persuaded her to get into the van, where you strangled her and used the girl’s panties to choke her.’
>
  ‘I know nothing about it.’

  ‘I think you do. It happened. Then you decided to make her look good. You thought she looked bad after what you did.’ Turner smothered a gasp as he tried not to remember Maureen’s terrible face. ‘It was your way of getting back at her, wasn’t it, lad? So you tidied her up, made her look clean and neat.

  ‘You work in the funeral parlour so you do that often for the clients. Afterwards, you drank in the pub so everyone could see you and later you dumped her body and clothes in a neat pile on the cliff top. And then took the van back to Carey’s and, from there, you walked back home.’

  ‘It’s not true any of it. And you can’t prove it.’ Raymond drummed his fists hard on the table and burst into angry tears.

  The solicitor intervened. ‘My client needs a break.’

  ‘Forensics will be able to tell us more when they have gone over the van. Interview terminated 3.00 pm.’

  51

  ‘Have you charged him officially, Jon?’

  ‘Not as yet. We’re still waiting for the result back from the boys in Forensics.’

  ‘What do they hope to find?’

  ‘Proof that he took all three girls in the van to those different places after he killed them. There’s bound to be his finger prints in the van. Some of Maureen’s too from previous trips. It’s something else to be able to prove Jodie’s presence in the van. Yvette-even more difficult.’

  Viviane watched Jon as he drank the can of beer in the kitchen. He didn’t look happy. It had obviously been another tedious demanding day. Taking Raymond Perkins in hadn’t solved anything not as yet. What had they actually got against the boy? Mrs Flitch had given them some vital information about the stolen jewellery and panties. But it didn’t determine his guilt.

  ‘It’s all pretty circumstantial, Viviane.’ His cell phone rang noisily. He groaned. ‘Not bad news. God, I hope not. Yes, Turner?’

  ‘News from Forensics. The only evidence they can find are prints of two of the girls. The van was spotless. Been cleaned up by a vacuum. But we could still have him dead to rights. Sorry about that, guv.’ Turner chuckled. ‘The taxi driver took Yvette to the chapel. And she was dead afterwards. So there wouldn’t be any prints from her.’

  ‘Thanks. Give the boys, my thanks too. Early tomorrow, we’ll question Raymond Perkins faced with what we know already. Hope we can get a confession from him. He’s so afraid of upsetting his grandmother.’

  ‘Peebles says the boy’s not eating. Looks like he’s trying to go on a hunger strike.’

  Perhaps they would get it wrapped up in a couple of days now. Maybe. Turner felt edgy. It was a gut feeling again that made the hairs prickle on the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to pass his feelings onto Kent. It was up to Kent to have the final say. But, for what it was worth, he couldn’t fit Perkins into the role of the killer.

  This didn’t get past Kent. He waited for Turner to put in his two-penn’orth in the Incident Room. The rest of the team giving their thoughts on it agreed; Raymond Perkins would have to be questioned longer. But with no results they would have to let him go.

  They were walking into the canteen. Turner hoping that a cup of tea would help to get rid of the bad taste in his mouth. And after his first mouthful he said, ‘Guv.’

  Kent studied his Sergeant’s face carefully. It told him plenty. He groaned. ‘Come on now. Let’s be having it, man. That miserable expression on your face tells all. You’re in the same mind as myself. Not happy over everything pointing to Raymond Perkins’s guilt. How many bags of peppermint lumps have you got through in the last couple of days?’

  Turner took out the half empty bag of sweets out of his pocket. ‘Plenty. Carole will give me hell if she finds out. But you’re right, guv. I’m not happy.’

  Kent stirred his sugar into coffee. ‘It’s almost too pat. Obviously if he did it, Raymond must have thought out how he was going to get rid of Maureen. And if so he decided to bump off Yvette sooner than later. And Jodie, poor kid, followed as an afterthought. To make it look as if there was a psycho on the loose. But why use the panties? Unless he really is off his rocker?’

  The Sergeant sighed. ‘So where do we go from here, guv? Do we keep him in for questioning?’

  ‘We’ve got no choice. He’s the only one of all the likely suspects without an alibi on those nights. We’ll have to keep him in for a while longer.’

  52

  ‘Gran, I want to see my Mum.’

  ‘You can’t. She’s not here.’

  ‘You can find her. Get her to come please, Gran. Get them to ask for her on TV. Or on the radio. Tell her, it’s me, Raymond. Her son wants to see her. She’ll come. I know she will, Gran. I need her here.’

  June Perkins felt in her roomy purse for her cologne scented handkerchief. She’d always dreaded this day. She thought that it might come sometime when he was old enough to express his feelings. And now it had. What could she say? He was waiting. She had to tell him the truth. She blinked and swallowed hard, her mouth was dry.

  ‘Gran, please. You’ve got to try for me. I need her here right now.’

  ‘You’ve got me. I’ve been like a mother to you, haven’t I?’

  ‘Yes- but it’s not the same. I want my Mum.’

  ‘She-she can’t come, dear,’ she blurted it out from where it had been hurting for so long inside. ‘She’s dead, dear. Your mother is dead.’ He was staring at her now, his eyes glistening with tears, and she felt her courage faltering but it had to be said, ‘She died when you were three years old. I couldn’t tell you not then. And afterwards, well- I thought that you might grow out of it. You’ve never asked for her before...’

  His loud agonizing scream was heard as far out as the front desk and sent the officers rushing into the room where June Perkins was trying to comfort him as he beat off the loving arms that she attempted to comfort him with.

  ‘Bugger off! You killed her! You sent her away, didn’t you? Told her to clear out. You told her she was a bad girl, didn’t you!’ he yelled back at her.

  ‘You’d better go, Mrs Perkins. He might hurt you.’

  Peebles said, ‘I never knew the kid had it in him. Shows he’s got a violent side, doesn’t it?’

  53

  Peebles opened up the cell with a strong sense of alarm. There was a pool of blood on the floor and Raymond Perkins was lying with an arm hanging limply over the side of the bed. The Sergeant saw the slow trickle of the red stuff running down his hand and the shirt sleeve on the arm that lay across his chest was drenched crimson. He raised the alarm immediately.

  Kent was given the disturbing news as he studied his notes at home with a glass of shandy for company. ‘The ambulance is on the way now, sir.’

  Kent exploded. ‘How the hell did he manage it?’

  ‘He threw his meal across the floor and he must have kept a piece of plastic cutlery, sharpened a broken bit and used it to jag a vein in his wrist with it. Made a pretty good job of it an’ all.’

  The prisoner had attempted suicide. It wouldn’t go down well in Head Office. How long he’d been losing blood wasn’t certain. They were keeping his arms above his head. The police doctor had been called and came quickly, sensing the urgency of the situation. The Para Medics followed up and Raymond was on his way to the hospital now.

  ‘Raymond Perkins! Suicide attempt! How is he, guv?’ Turner said sleepily. He hadn’t long got into bed. ‘How on earth did he manage it?’

  ‘His Gran visited him in the afternoon. Perhaps she said something to him that he didn’t like. They said he was upset and went bananas. She had to leave. He didn’t need much to tip him over the edge obviously. Something that upset him so desperately he wanted to take his life.’

  ‘So where does that leave us?’

  ‘Sherwood is in the hospital. More than likely helping his gran to mop up her tears.’

  The night’s rest was over as far as Kent was concerned. He tried not to make many sounds moving around th
e flat. The car would be coming early for him. And it was the Hospital first stop. He was becoming increasingly more distrustful of the evidence which seemed to point at Raymond’s guilt. He heard the back door open downstairs. Beazy was going out early it seemed.

  Viviane stayed in the kitchen when she heard him come down the stairs. She didn’t move from the table. She tried to imagine that she had concrete blocks for feet. She must not display too much interest lest it came out as nosiness for her part. It was so early he wouldn’t expect her to be up anyway.

  So when the knock came on the kitchen door she didn’t get up in a rush to open it. She called, ‘Come in.’

  He was in his blue towelling robe still. ‘Not interrupting anything, am I?’ Kent said looking at the plate of buttered toast set in front of her. ‘Are you so hungry? And so early. Since when have you got up at five?’

  ‘I couldn’t sleep. You want to talk?’

  ‘Yes-if you don’t mind?’

  ‘I got up; Beazy wanted to go out. And I can’t stop thinking about the case. And Raymond Perkins.’ She laughed. ‘I didn’t realise that I was making so much toast, not at first. I can’t eat it all. Even Simon’s appetite is not so good with this hot weather.’

  ‘May I,’ he said taking a chair. ‘I thought I’d better tell you now. Just in case you bump into Mrs Perkins later and you don’t know.’

  ‘Don’t know what?’

  ‘Raymond is in hospital.’

  ‘Why?’ Her cup clattered in the saucer. ‘What’s happened? You haven’t tried to beat it out of him, have you?’ He wasn’t smiling. ‘Sorry I take that back. I didn’t mean it. It wasn’t funny.’

  ‘It’s worse than that, Viviane. He’s in there because he tried to kill himself last night.’