‘He was in here Thursday. So young Ray was telling porkers,’ Kent remarked. ‘Do you have a raffle in here at all, Mrs Flitch?’
‘Sometimes - yes. Actually we did last Thursday. It was to help the local hospital to furnish the new children’s ward.’
‘So would one of the prizes be a box of chocolates by any chance?’
‘Yes. That’s right. And now you’ve mentioned it, Raymond Perkins won the third prize. And that was it, a large box of chocolates. He left soon afterwards I think.’
‘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.’