Three Little Maids(27)

Kent looked at the doe-like golden brown eyes in the laughing elfin face and passed it over without a word to Turner, who handled it reluctantly. He nodded and gave it back to the young man.

‘She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?’ Jones said smiling, his anxiety briefly forgotten.

‘Can you tell me, sir, if she wears jewellery of any kind? A ring perhaps or earrings? I notice that she is wearing an anklet on her right ankle in the photo.’

‘That was a gift from her father. And she wears a ring I gave her with her birthstone in it. An amethyst.’

‘I don’t know about the anklet. But would this be the ring, sir?’ Kent held up a small plastic envelope with a ring in it. ‘It has an amethyst and an inscription which reads, ‘With all my love, Cliff.’ Is that correct?’

‘That’s right. You have it! Where did you get it? Where is Yvette? Is she okay?’

‘Turner fetch a cup of tea for Mr. Jones, please. Or would you prefer coffee, sir?’

‘Tea will do. What is all this?’ Cliff Jones bounced out of his chair and leant over the desk. His deep set brown eyes burning feverishly bright in the strong square cut features. His clenched fist came down hard on the desk disturbing the folder on it. ‘Just cut out the crap, Inspector. Tell me where she is - Yvette’s dead, isn’t she?’

‘I’m afraid so, Mr. Jones.’

‘I want to see her. Now. Take me to her at once!’

‘I’m sorry, sir. I can’t. It has to be her parents who can identify her. After that you may, of course, be allowed to see her.’

Jones collapsed back into the chair and the colour under the tanned skin faded. ‘Christ! Where did you find her? You can tell me that much, can’t you, officer?’

‘Yvette was found early this morning in the woods bordering the park. The cause of death is not known yet.’

Jones slumped forward, his head buried in his hands, muffling his sobs as Turner came back in with a mug of tea, a spoon and a small packet of sugar on a tray. He put it down on the desk and waited.

‘You have a key to her place, Mr. Jones?’

He lifted his head. His eyes were dark holes in his tear stained face. ‘Sure. Didn’t - didn’t you find one in her purse?’

‘Her purse wasn’t with her when she was found and it would be easier for us if you can let us have your key, sir. So we can examine her room. We can find her home address there, I daresay. Would you like the tea now?’

‘Thanks.’ He searched in his jeans pocket, took two keys off his key ring and pushed them across the desktop. ‘Here’s both keys. To the front door and her place up on the top floor and I would like them back. I’ve kept some of my things there and I wouldn’t like her parents to find them, see?’

‘Your wishes will be respected, sir.’

‘Okay, thanks.’ He drank the tea down in long gulps, got up and left the room quietly with a dazed look still on his face.

‘What do you think of that young man, Turner? Do you think he was being straight with us? Or did they have a lovers quarrel?’

‘Could be. I think that there’s more to it than what he’s saying. The parents may not have known of their daughter’s relationship with our lad. She didn’t seem more than a kid to me.’

‘She was working in the pub so she would have to be eighteen anyway. He wasn’t that keen for us to see her place, Turner.’

‘Shall we deal with it right away, guv? There wasn’t a gold anklet on the body, was it taken?’

‘Possibly but I hardly think that robbery was the motive.’





19




Kent thought it must be a good thing to have a dog, a Labrador perhaps or a Wire Haired Terrier, for company if you lived right on the top of the West hill. A long walk over it would give both of them some healthy exercise after work and a good appetite.

Getting out of the car, he paused for a moment or so, gazed down at the old part of the town nestled comfortably in the valley below, licked his dry lips and fancied he could taste the salt on them as the East wind whipped up over the hill from the sea.

‘Right now, a kite would be the just the thing, Turner. Have you got one for your kids? I bet you’d have some great fun up here today. It gives a great view of the town. You live near here, don’t you?’

‘Yes, guv. You can see our house from up here. Down there, near the cricket ground.’

‘A nice spot to be, Turner. It would suit me to have a season ticket for the cricket. Although tennis’s more my game. Now where exactly is the street we’re looking for, Turner?’

Yvette’s small bed-sit was in the top half of a graceful, Edwardian house in a long street of similar old buildings. Set amongst variegated rows of individual red tiled late Victorian terraced houses built on the top of the hill. There were several students sharing the same house.