Turner frowned. ‘I could be wrong, guv. But she looks familiar. I recognize that face from somewhere...’ He scratched the side of his stubby nose thoughtfully for a minute with a thick forefinger, a frown creasing his freckled forehead. ‘And - I saw her last night with Raymond Perkins,’ he announced this solemnly. ‘In the park. That’s it, I think.’
‘That’s interesting, Turner. That boy has got himself in the frame once again. An innocent bystander, or what?’ Kent leant over the face. ‘Look at this, Turner. Looks like she wore a nose ring of sorts. What do you think? The killer tore it out? There’s a trace of blood around that nostril?’
Turner snapped his fingers. ‘Bingo! I’ve got it! I’ve seen her face on a poster in the station and around town. For the last three months, I’ve been looking at her. She’s our missing girl, guv. I should have realised it. Her parents have been looking for her for the last six months. They obviously thought she might have come down here. But they didn’t worry enough to come down here to take a look, did they? Or if they did, they didn’t try hard enough.’
Kent sighed heavily. ‘Thanks Turner. That cuts down some of the paperwork. Christ! It’s not how I’d like the search for a missing child to end. Those poor parents. How the hell do you break it to them?’ he said.
‘It resolves it I suppose, guv. They might never have known what happened to her. Some parents never do trace them. What makes kids go off the rails? Leave home without a word. To live rough. Can it be so very bad at home?’
Kent wondered where exactly did this take them. Could they stop these killings now? He had visions of more than three dead girls. The media would make hay out of it. He could see his position here being reviewed by the police committee and soon. They might ask for help from outside from the Big Boys at the Met.’
38
In the Incident Room. The news came over the phone and was received with muted sighs of relief. ‘Her parents were contacted in London, guv. They’re both professional people. Lawyers. The stepfather is a barrister. There are three distressed parents to deal with. It couldn’t be worse for publicity,’ Carter said.
It was a difficult occasion. When they turned up at the station late in the afternoon, Kent felt out of his depth. Jodie’s mother wasn’t at all what he expected. She was Estelle Bellingham, a lawyer, a tall dark elegant woman, in a black costume, who gave away little away of her true feelings at first, but collapsed into raw heart breaking tears when she identified the girl as Jodie Charters, her daughter.
She came into the mortuary with the girl’s natural father, her ex-husband, Gerry Charters. There had been no argument over this arrangement. The step-father Larry Bellingham waited it out in the police station. They listened to the Inspector explaining the circumstances of their daughter’s death, and asked when the body would be released for burial. Her mother’s brown eyes burned with fury as she heard the frightening details of her child’s death.
‘So, Inspector, how soon do you think it will take you to catch this murderer of innocent children? How many more mothers will wait in vain for their daughters to come home from school? Before you do your job and bring him to justice?’
Turner listening in the background thought uneasily that he wouldn’t like her to be the prosecuting counsel in a case against him in court.
39
June Perkins heard the bad news on the small kitchen radio and sat down heavily in her kitchen chair with her cup of tea spilling over into the saucer on her lap. Not another girl. She wondered if Raymond would be questioned yet again. Sure to be. The police were persistent. He’d gone to the park with the girl Jodie. Came in late again last night. Slamming the doors behind him.
She guessed that something was wrong. He’d been stood up for some reason. He was sleeping in late now.
When the loud knock came at the front door she knew that it was the police. And her heart beat fast which added to her general panic. She felt sick. She’d meant to ask her doctor to give her something for these nervous attacks. Her heart must be dicky. None of this trouble was helping her health wise. She would definitely ask for a check-up.
‘Inspector, Mr. Turner. What brings you back here again so soon? Is it because there’s been another girl killed?’ she said letting them in. ‘Raymond is in his room listening to his CDs. It’s Sunday. Do you have to speak to him just now?’
‘Yes we do, Mrs Perkins.’
‘And why do you want to speak to him? He hasn’t met another girl that has been killed, has he?’ she said letting them in. ‘He’s done nothing wrong.’