Three Little Maids(52)

Beazy flopped down in the shade of the bushes and the garden shed. Choosing to ignore a green frog hopping at great speed across the lawn to get to the pond with its inviting splashing fountain and lily leaf pads. Even Beazy hadn’t much energy to spare.





35




In the park, the police sealed off the spot with the official tapes, then stood by and waited while the police doctor carried out his examination.

‘Dead about nine to ten hours. Not killed on the spot. I would say she was brought here afterwards.’

‘That would be difficult, wouldn’t it, guv? If the park gates are closed at night.’

Kent looked at the Keeper. ‘There is a small gate in Lower Park road that is sometimes left open, isn’t it, Mr. Toomey? Or do you manage to go round closing every one last thing?’

‘I officially check on and close up all the main gates by ten or eleven on a special night like last night, sir. But you’re right. That small gate is sometimes left unlocked. Not many people would notice. Probably only the residents in Lower Park road would use it. Or someone local would know that it isn’t locked. Most people come and go by the main gates which are more convenient for public use. I shall make sure after this that I close every gate from now on if it takes me an extra hour closing them,’ he said miserably.

Kent studied the young man’s wretched face. ‘You aren’t responsible for her death, Mr. Toomey. She wasn’t killed in the park. This was just a convenient dumping place. You can go now. Try not to take it so much to heart.’

‘Thank you, Inspector,’ he said hurrying away.

‘Poor lad. He must have felt like bringing his boots up,’ Turner said.

‘Someone though must have had this place stacked out well beforehand.’

‘I should say so, guv.’ Turner agreed gloomily.





36




Viviane knew she was going to be on tenterhooks all day. She didn’t, as a rule, watch TV so early but midday she switched it on for the local news. Simon munching a ham sandwich watched alongside her as the News Reader announced solemnly.

‘Another girl’s body was found in the popular seaside resort of Harcombe on Sea. The victim’s waiting for identification. This makes the third in less than eight days. The police are still seeking the motive for the killings.’

She wondered how Jon Kent was feeling. Right now. Gutted more than likely. What a way to make an impression in a new position. Were there any fresh leads? Earlier, according to Jon, there had been door to door visits from the police checking up on known sexual offenders but all had been cleared.

She sighed and chewed her under lip fretfully. ‘Stop worrying about it, Mum,’ Simon said patting her gently on the shoulder. ‘You’re not going to be any help to Jon if you let it get to you like this. He doesn’t need to see you getting all het up.’

‘You’ll be with Michael for the rest of the day, won’t you? Give me a ring. Let me know when you’ll be home, won’t you?’

‘I could be having something at his place. At the Berkley’s. Just take it easy. Don’t try and solve the case single-handed.’

‘I just feel I have a head start. Jon’s not so familiar with the people here.’

‘It could be someone who doesn’t live in Harcombe anyway. He could be down here for a holiday. And Jon’s got Turner. He’s worth his weight in gold bricks and that’s something.’





37




The two men walked slowly into the mortuary. Neither of them looked forward to this visit. It was beginning to become a familiar chore. They had no doubt what they would see. Had to face once again. The girl had been removed from her leafy bed and brought here ready for identification on the cold slab. Where the previous two had lain. And now waited on the ice box shelves for burial. Turner ran his hand down the nape of his neck. It prickled. He was getting that feeling again.

Kent rubbed his chin distractedly. ‘What age would you say she was, Turner?’

‘Looks young like the others, guv. She’s as thin as an alley cat. Not more than sixteen at a guess. Could be fourteen, fifteen? That would be more like it. Was she a user? ‘

Kent lifted the sheet away gently from the thin arms and saw no marks.

‘No. Clean by the look of it.’

They studied the swollen, livid face of the girl lying on the slab carefully. Method of death the same. Was she a local or a townie? Had she come down from the smoke to join the rest of the social misfits on the beach while the sun shone? And her fate had been decided for her because she was so young. Was she known by the killer or picked out of the crowds in the park because she was alone and vulnerable at the time.