Three Little Maids(2)

‘No, sir.’

Kent grimaced. ‘Turner.’

‘Guv?’

‘Take a woman constable with you to the Carey’s home. Someone needs to break it to the parents immediately. Police Constable Sherwood will do nicely. I can leave it with you?’

Stan Turner nodded. ‘Righto, guv.’

He groaned mentally, he wasn’t looking forward to it. His youngest daughter, Emma, went to the same school and was in the same class as the victim. He quelled the thought quickly that it could have been her but Emma knew better than to take nocturnal walks along the cliffs at night accompanied or otherwise.

He’d had occasion to use Carey’s funeral services when his father died two years ago. Sombre, dark-bearded Joseph Carey reminded Stan Turner of Abraham Lincoln. The Carey family belonged to a local Lutheran chapel and they took their religion very seriously. Carey was a strict parent apparently from what Emma had mentioned at home and Turner couldn’t imagine him allowing Angela to stay out late at night. Come to that, he couldn’t see Carey allowing her out at all in the evenings, at least not on her own.

As Police Constable Sherwood got out of the police car, the pretty brown-eyed policewoman looked up at the grey stone creeper clad four storey Victorian house and giggled. ‘I’m sorry, Sergeant Turner. It makes me think of the Adams family. Looks like he makes a good living though.’ She giggled again. ‘You said he’s an undertaker, didn’t you?’

‘He is. And he’s about to find out that his daughter is dead,’ Turner said, ringing the chiming doorbell on the imposing oak front door, ornamented by a stained glass window panel. ‘So watch it, Sherwood. I want you to help me put Mrs Carey in the picture as delicately as possible. Ah, here she comes now, I think.’

A tall shadow appeared behind the stained glass and the door was opened. The blonde woman in the sleeveless, sea blue linen dress looked at them uncertainly.

‘Good morning, Mrs Carey?’ He showed his identification. ‘Detective Sergeant Turner and Police Constable Sherwood. May we come in, please?’

‘Yes.’ Her face cleared suddenly and smiled pleasantly. ‘Oh, have you come to advise us on crime prevention? Mr. Carey mentioned that he’d asked for a crime officer to call. We have had some robberies in this road lately. Won’t you come in please?’

‘Thank you. I’m sorry, Mrs Carey, but we’re here on other business than security. You have a daughter Angela?’ Turner said following Constable Sherwood into the highly polished parquet laid front hall.

‘Angela? She’s not home.’

She took them into the large sunny, open plan living-room. It was tastefully and expensively furnished in pale green and blue, and many local views in water colours were on display around the walls.

‘Angela’s staying over at her friend Stacey’s house. She hasn’t done anything wrong, has she?’ Her hand fidgeted with a large pearl stud earring. ‘Her father won’t like it if she has. She has been a bit wilful lately but that’s teenagers for you.’ She smiled at the police officers. ‘Have you any children, Sergeant Turner?’

‘I have, ma’am. Two boys and a girl. Mr Carey is he at home? We would like to speak to both of you.’

‘He’s at his place of business. Attending a funeral today.’ Her hand flew to her bare throat and she gasped. ‘Oh - something has happened to Angela, hasn’t it, officer?’ Her full grey-blue eyes showed alarm now. ‘She’s had an accident! She’s in hospital...’

‘No, Mrs Carey. Would you like to sit down, please?’

The front door was opened suddenly with a key. Mr Carey joined them briskly. ‘Ah! Good morning, Sergeant Turner. Your Inspector Kent has just called and advised me to come home. What is this about? Are you all right, Paula?’

‘Something has happened to Angela. Sergeant Turner?’ Mrs Carey gripped her husband’s arm. The police officers had their full attention now.

He nodded. ‘Yes, ma’am, I’m afraid it has. When did you last see Angela, Mr Carey? Did you know where she was going last evening?’

‘We did. And we know where she is now. What is this leading to, officer? Is our daughter in trouble? Is she? Paula, you should never have allowed her to sleep over at that girl’s house.’

‘I’m very sorry, Mrs Carey, Mr Carey. We have good reason to believe that Angela is dead.’ A gasp came from Paula Carey and she clutched her husband’s arm. ‘A young girl’s body was found lying on the cliff top near Lovers Leap early this morning. And was recognised by a witness to be your daughter.’