Three Little Maids

by Patricia Scott

  ‘Tried to kill himself.’ She stared back at him for a moment. Blinked and shook her head. ‘No. You aren’t kidding are you? Oh, God! How dreadful!’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How? Did he try to hang himself? I thought care was taken so prisoners can’t do that.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘So how then?’

  He picked up a piece of toast and munched it. ‘It ought not to have happened, Viviane. The young devil cut his wrists with a sharp piece of plastic cutlery. Perhaps he was only trying it out. He was determined to do some harm to himself somehow. Peebles had a shock when he went to see how he was after the evening meal. He was worried about him. He hadn’t been eating.’

  She shook her head. ‘I still can’t believe it. How did Turner feel about it? I think he has a soft spot for the boy.’

  ‘He has and he’s not happy. Far from it. I phoned him as soon as I heard. I hope he got to sleep. Though I doubt it. He’s probably down in his kitchen raiding the fridge right now and drinking gallons of strong tea.’

  She laughed. ‘That’s him. And I bet he’s got through some peppermint lumps too. When he stopped smoking, he got onto them instead. Carole said she can’t stop him eating them plus extra sustenance from the fridge. Hence his weight problem.’

  She doubted Kent was taking it in but she had to keep talking.

  ‘Turner will be over soon, I expect. You can imagine this has muddied the waters considerably if you like.’

  ‘It most certainly has,’ he agreed automatically.

  ‘Has Raymond done this because he’s guilty? Or for some other reason entirely?’

  ‘We shan’t know till he’s able to be questioned,’ he said taking a cup of tea from her. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You don’t usually try taking your life unless you think there is no other way out. Nowhere else to go. Or you’re trying it out to see if anyone cares about you. He’s lost Maureen remember. And his new friend, Jodie, was taken as well. So what about Raymond’s mother? Have you thought about her?’

  Kent frowned and thought for a moment. ‘You could be right. His mother! Could be, I suppose. I think his grandmother might shed some light on that.’

  ‘Yes. Speak to her, Jon. See what Raymond talked about when she saw him yesterday.’

  Kent studied her carefully for a moment or so. ‘Oh-ho! You’re not just a sweet attractive woman. You’ve got a brain there.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. Glad to be of help. Honestly. I really would like to see you tie up this case satisfactorily.’ She smiled. ‘Don’t look like that. You’ll do it. Sometime soon this killer will make a mistake. Bound to- he’ll get too clever.’

  ‘I hope you’re right. God! What’s that? It’s hardly the dawn chorus,’ he groaned as the wooden cuckoo in the clock across the room made its wobbly appearance and announced the time in six shrill calls minus the coos. ‘Can’t you get that poor bird fixed? He’s pathetic, Viviane.’

  She grinned. ‘No. He’s not. He cheers me up. Whenever I feel a bit down, I only have to see him trying to do his best. Beazy tried to chew him up that’s why he wobbles. And he makes me feel I can do something, if only I try harder.’

  ‘Well, I suppose there is that way of looking at it. You never cease to surprise me. I think you could do anything if you put your mind to it. Getting into one of those wasp waisted corsets for a start.’ He chuckled as she scowled back at him over her tea cup.

  ‘Don’t you dare think it. It’s a lost cause.’

  ‘Well, I think I’d better get dressed. This might not do your reputation any good if Turner sees me chatting you up in here.’

  54

  At the hospital Sherwood greeted them with a tired smile. It had obviously been a worrying night. She was about to come off duty and PC Harrison was taking over. They looked into the room where Raymond Perkins was lying pale and supine in bed with a formidable array of pipes and drips attached.

  ‘How’s he been?’

  ‘Once they sorted him out, topped up his blood and knocked him out with sleepers, he’s been fairly stable. He must have been pretty desperate, sir.’

  ‘Where’s his grandmother, Mrs Perkins? Is she still here?’

  Sherwood groaned. ‘I’ve had to bolster her up, sir. She’s been in a really bad way. Crying and sobbing. I think she blames herself. If anything happens to Raymond she might try it on, I think. I made her go to the hospital canteen to get something to eat. Here she comes now.’

  June Perkins face was tearstained, her eyes red rimmed and swollen. ‘Mr. Turner. Inspector? I hope you’re satisfied. Look what Raymond’s gone and done to himself.’

  ‘Mrs Perkins. This has nothing to do with us. Raymond did this.’

  ‘Did you say anything to upset him yesterday, Mrs Perkins? Sergeant Peebles said he had quite a paddy on him while you were there. Got upset, didn’t he? And Peebles had to ask you to leave.’

  ‘You’re saying that I was responsible for this? Mr. Turner asked me to go and see him because Raymond wasn’t eating.’

  ‘What did you say to him? Did you by any chance mention his mother?’

  She gulped, sniffed and dabbed her red eyes. ‘Yes-yes I did.’

  ‘So what did you say?’

  ‘I told him his mother would want him to eat. I didn’t know how else to encourage him. Then he asked to see her. He was upset. He was talking a lot about Maureen and Jodie. He cried, Mr. Turner. He didn’t murder them girls like you lot are saying he did. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

  Kent sighed this was getting them nowhere. But she had talked about his mother. ‘What did he actually say when you mentioned his mother?’

  ‘He got excited. I don’t want to talk about it anymore,’ she said tearfully and sat down heavily on a chair. ‘You’ve got to go out and catch the wicked man who killed those girls. And let my Raymond come home.’

  ‘He could have done it to attract attention from his mother.’

  She burst into tears. They waited till she was able to speak. She lifted her agonized face ‘No, he didn’t. He kept asking for her, Mr. Turner. I had to tell him that his mother died. An’ he went crazy.’

  Turner looked at Kent. ‘My daughter, Pammie, died when he was small. She was pregnant again... I was angry. I didn’t know what to do about her. Didn’t know who the father was. She left home. Went to London. And I was told by the police later she’d died from a backstreet abortion. I couldn’t tell the boy that, could I?’ She wept into her cologne soaked handkerchief.

  ‘Pretty useless to ask her anything else, guv. She’s tired out. She’s said enough, I think.’

  ‘Sister?’ Kent approached the nurse coming out of the room. ‘How long will it be before the young man is able to speak to us?’

  ‘We want to keep him sedated and calm for the time being. To give him a chance to recover, Inspector.’

  Kent was uneasy. How were they going to sort all this out. They could only keep him for a while longer. They had no definite proof to hold him with. There were only the prints in the van to offer as evidence. But they might not stand up in court.

  55

  It was Viviane’s day on the library van. She was glad to do it. It took her out of town and the library. And away from the library where worries crowded in on her. Where she was sure to see someone who reminded her only too easily of the crimes that had taken place.

  And the day before, she’d recalled it was Jon’s birthday coming up on the weekend. Perhaps he didn’t like them to be numbered and remembered. But he needed something to cheer him up. That was for sure. The previous week she’d spotted a Toby Jug sitting on a top shelf in a small antique shop in Pealinghurst where she making a call that morning. It was just an idea. But anything that pleased him was worth a try.

  It was busy morning. The regulars were waiting for her when the mobile library pulled in on the village green. All those that she knew well since she had been doing it.

  The two middle-aged Chauncey brothers had varied views on reading ma
tter. Both were pig farmers. Cedric enjoyed books on sports of all kinds. Cricket and cricketers were his favourite brain fodder. And biographies of famous actors, film stars when he could find any he hadn’t already read. Silas, his twin, read anything to do with sea travel, underwater wrecks and true crime. The fact that their mother, Jessica, kept an matriarchal eye on her two boys and the running of the farm, might have something to with their unmarried state and their reading, Viviane thought, as they were the first up the steps and came to her counter together.

  Closely followed by Margaret Vincent, a sweet old lady with a basketful of crime novels. At eighty two, it was the mysteries that caught her interest most. Agatha Christie, Patricia Cornwall, Sue Grafton and Ruth Rendall were some of her favorites. But for her elderly son Barney, a widower and retired chemist, only the Medical Harlequin Mills and Boon romantic fiction would do.

  ‘I do hope you can find something new, amongst these, Mr. Vincent. You’ve read so many of the paperbacks we have on our shelves. I’ve tried to sort some out for you from the Central library and brought them with me. Can you remember what you’ve already read? I know that Barbara Neels is your favourite.’

  ‘Thank you so much, Mrs Sherlborne, for taking so much trouble. I often wish that I could enjoy what Mother reads. But crime’s not my cup of tea. Reading about murders and far worse.’ He shuddered for effect and smiled.

  ‘Yes,’ said Viviane watching Mrs Vincent making her way carefully over to the crime shelves. ‘I don’t think I could fancy them myself not at the moment.’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course those dreadful murders in Harcombe. I still can’t believe it’s happening. It doesn’t seem real to us living out here. I put on the local news and the TV and it’s there on the screen every day. Mother will listen to it. She laps it up. How can you possibly stand it? I’m glad I brought Mother to live here. Although we’re still thought of as newcomers even after twenty years at The Lilacs,’ he said with a chuckle.

  The Vicar’s wife, Cassandra Beavers deposited baby buggy and infant strategically outside and bounced up the van steps with her tote bag full of books. A lively all sorts mixture consisting of Healthy Meals for Infants, Vegetable and Organic Gardening. Craft Ideas for Busy Mums. Her own tastes varied from romance via Barbara Bradford Taylor, Danielle Steele, and crime from Minette Walters. While sea tales by Douglas Reeman and spy thrillers by Ted Allbury were her husband Tim’s favourite reading.

  ‘I’ve got the book you reserved, Cassandra. The latest Minette Walters. I thought it looked good myself. Just the kind to curl up with when you have the time to read. How on earth do you manage it with all the parish work you get through?’

  ‘It’s light relief and I squeeze it in somehow. We’ve got the wedding of the year in the church next month,’ Cassie Beaver said as she picked up her ticket. ‘It will be the big Manderville society wedding. Tim is getting nervous. So he wants some escapist fiction to get his teeth into.’

  ‘That’s Hugh Manderville marrying the Berkley girl, isn’t it? So the wedding is taking place here and not in Harcombe? How did they manage that?’

  ‘Well the small chapel used by the Berkley’s would hardly be able to cope with all the guests. So there was no argument over that. The Manderville heirs have always married in our church. Mr. Ludlam will take some part in the ceremony, I gather according to Bill. As I said it’ll be a society affair.’

  Viviane thought of the trouble that Tom Berkley had got himself into during the past week. How was he going to manage to get away with it without any mud sticking? Even if his wife, Brenda, never got to hear about Yvette. While the murder case was on going, it was possible that even a whisper coming from Cliff Jones could ruin everything for the happy couple if the media picked it up.

  She closed up the van for lunch with all the satisfied readers going off with their selection for a fortnight or so. And Ginger Bowles, her young driver, taking off to the Cock and Bull pub to have a Ploughman’s lunch and a non-alcoholic drink. She decided to try the Antique shop for the Toby Jug first of all. And discovered that after all she couldn’t get everything her own way as she quickly discovered that things she’d tried hard to avoid had a sneaky way of catching up with her.

  She was standing in the corner looking up at the jug, while waiting for assistance from the shop keeper, Mr. Willowby, when she discovered that she wasn’t entirely alone in the shop.

  Down the other end, Aiden Ludlam and Michael Berkley were discussing the purchase of some antique picture frames while looking over them carefully. Michael seemed anxious about something. He obviously wanted to make the right choice. Holding up first one and then the other for Aiden’s approval.

  Aiden his arm round the youth’s shoulder, was smiling into his face. Giving him a gentle shake. It looked as if he was also giving him some good advice. She guessed off hand that Michael was more than likely worrying about his father. It couldn’t have entirely escaped his son’s notice that he’d been in a fight of some sort. And what it was about would soon become public knowledge. Aiden looked sympathetic. A ready ear when it wasn’t possible to discuss it with anyone else.

  She wondered if Michael mentioned his family troubles to Simon. But he was naturally a shy boy. If he had, it wasn’t likely her son would tell her anyway. He was good at keeping secrets.

  Michael made a decision. And then looked at some of the picture frames on sale. He looked happier as Mr. Willowby took it from him to wrap it.

  She kept her back turned and heard the shopkeeper approaching her. ‘Can I help you, Mrs Sherlborne?’

  She smiled. ‘Yes, Mr. Willowby. I think you can. That rascally looking pirate smiling down at me from that top shelf. He seems like a merry old soul. Have you put the jug up there perhaps because you don’t want to part with him? Is he your lucky charm?’

  Mr. Willowby chuckled. ‘Could be. So you’ve taken a fancy to him too?’

  ‘If it’s what I’m looking for then, it’s yes. But I shan’t know till I can look at him more closely. The jug hasn’t got any cracks in it, has it?’

  ‘No. I’ll get it down in two ticks.’

  ‘Mrs Sherlborne. I wasn’t aware that you collected Toby Jugs.’ Aiden Ludlam stopped to admire the jug as Mr. Willowby handed it over.

  ‘No. It’s a present for someone, Mr. Ludlam. Thank you, Mr. Willowby. I’ll take a look at it and make up my mind.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr. Willowby. We shall no doubt call in again.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr. Ludlam. Mr. Berkley.’

  Viviane took the Toby Jug over to the large front bay window and studied it carefully. It looked genuine. She hadn’t got a clue about Toby Jugs. He could possibly have a similar one. But it might please him. She swallowed hard at the price. But going by what he had paid for the other one at the Antique fair, it was reasonable enough. He’d soon put her straight about whether it was a bargain or not.

  It looked good. The colour glaze was fine and there were no perceptible cracks that she could see. There was a roguish look in the Pirate’s right eye. The other had a black patch on it. She liked it she hoped Jon would too.

  ‘I’ll take it, Mr. Willowby. Thank you.’ She noticed that Aiden Ludlam had stopped outside the shop. He was making a suggestion to Michael that she guessed had something to do with her. And she was soon proved right.

  ‘I gather that you are working here on the mobile van, Mrs Sherlborne?’

  ‘Yes, but I’ve knocked off for lunch now.’

  ‘Well, I wonder if you will give us the pleasure of inviting you to lunch with us. The Blue Parrot Pub restaurant has a really good cuisine. It’s a gourmet’s delight.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr. Ludlam. That will be- very nice.’

  She wasn’t sure whether she was doing the right thing. But she was interested enough to discover the reason for their visit to Pealinghurst. Unless it was to see the Vicar about the wedding. That could be it of course.

  She settled for an omelette and green side salad.

  ‘You
are easy to please. I daresay you were surprised to find us over here, Mrs Sherlborne. But I’d arranged to see the Vicar today. And Michael wanted some ideas for a wedding present for the happy couple. So we managed to combine the two things most admirably, didn’t we Michael? Show Mrs Sherlborne what you’ve purchased.’

  ‘You’ve bought something, Michael? I couldn’t help noticing the package you brought from the shop.’

  ‘Yes. I bought an antique picture frame.’ He smiled. ‘It cost me more than the actual present.’

  ‘Well it isn’t a secret, Michael. You can show Mrs Sherlborne what you’ve been doing this morning while I’ve been talking to the Vicar.’

  Michael smiled shyly. ‘You see I wanted to give my sister and Hugh something special. A kind of unusual wedding present. So as I like doing brass rubbings, Mr. Ludlam suggested that I did a brass rubbing of Hugh’s ancestors in the church. And frame it.’

  ‘How original. So what did you actually do?’

  ‘Well- I’ve got one each of their Norman ancestor Hugh de Manderville and his wife Lady Elaine to put in this gilded frame. I shall put it behind glass. It took me ages to do the rubbing.’ He glanced at Aiden Ludlam. ‘And I had to ask permission from the Vicar before I started. But I am very pleased with it. So I hope they will be too.’

  ‘What a lovely idea. It’s unusual and special, Michael. I’m sure they’re like it. I know I would.’

  ‘There you see, Michael. Your doubts should have all vanished by now. It will be a great success.’

  ‘So you brought Michael with you to do this, Mr. Ludlam. That was good of you.’

  ‘He can’t drive yet. His father wouldn’t have time to bring him. And he wanted to keep it a secret from the family.’

  ‘So it was a good solution for you to bring him over. Mr. Berkley will thank you for it when he sees what Michael has done.’

  She spotted the look of pain that was reflected instantly in the boy’s eyes. He seemed troubled by the mention of his father’s name. Had he heard about his father’s skirmish with Cliff Jones?