‘Coming back to Raymond Perkins would then have had the necessary transport to move the bodies. Turner?’
‘Yes, guv. I noticed the old runabout in the undertaker’s yard in passing when we called in the other day. He would be able to drive it around during the day for Carey. He did errands for his boss in town. No one would notice if it had been moved at night. Susan Flitch said he took Maureen out in it. So he wouldn’t scare her if he picked her up in it. Maybe he offered Yvette a lift last thing from the pub that night. And Jodie, he could have caught up again with her on the way to the hostel.’
‘Could be he met up with Maureen down the end of Susan Flitch’s road. We shall never really know. She’d made him good and mad remember. He wasn’t going to let her treat him like that. And get away with it. And Yvette could have made him feel small.’
‘Okay, Carter. We’re bearing this all in mind.’
‘Jodie also made him feel stupid. And let him down after he’d treated her generously.’
‘Yes, Gearing. Just run over Raymond’s background once again if you will, for everyone here please, Turner.’
‘His mother left him at three years old, according to his Gran,’ Turner said. ‘That’s why he used to take off on buses to find her. Mrs P. had quite a task bringing him up. As a fifteen year old single mother, Pam was too tough for June Perkins to handle. June was left a single parent herself when she lost her husband Billy in the Falklands. He was a sailor. And the girl got out of control because June was in a bad way when Billy was gone. June Perkins lost her father at sea too. He was a lifeboat man. And was awarded a posthumous medal for bravery.’
‘You know quite a bit about the family, Turner. As the community policeman.’
‘That’s right. And my wife used to call on Mrs Perkins. As a small child Raymond had quite a paddy on him. His gran used to worry about it but she kept a tight rein on him. She was glad to see him settled in the job at Carey’s. He took to the job well.’
‘Could be why the bodies were tidied up so nicely, sir. So clean and neat afterwards.’
‘Could be.’
‘Let’s take a look at the van, Turner. Get Forensics on to it, straight away.’
45
‘Tell me what is the common denominator here in these three cases, Turner? Who seems to be connected with all three victims?’
Turner grimaced. ‘Raymond Perkins, guv.’
‘Exactly. And what’s our next move?’
‘We must get permission to search his room, guv.’
‘And Forensics going over the van. So let’s make it a united move on both fronts, shall we? We can’t ignore the possibility that Raymond is our Jack the Lad. With all the background gen we have on him already.’
‘Mrs P. is not going to like it. But she’ll co-operate with careful handling, guv.’
‘You can look in Raymond’s room. He has nothing to hide, Mr.Turner. He doesn’t like me going in to tidy much. And he keeps it neat and clean. He likes lots of pictures. You’ll see them when you go in. It’s the second door on the landing. It’s got his name on it. He likes to keep it private.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Perkins.’
Looking into the boy’s room was a complete eye opener for Kent and Turner. It was bizarre, Turner thought popping a peppermint chew into his mouth absently. It was something like a set out of a Hammer Horror film. It was decorated in a dramatic fashion that was both striking and brilliant. Certainly not what they’d expected to see when the two police officers stopped in the open doorway to stare back at the sight that met their eyes. It was all the more astonishing because they weren’t at all prepared for it.
There were life size drawings, startlingly recognizable, executed in bold black ink on the sheets of white paper pinned up on the walls. But it was the way they were done and the subject matter that made them so striking. The three girl victims were portrayed lying naked on grassy mounds with tomb stones prominent in the background.
‘My God, Turner,’ Kent gasped. ‘How on earth did he find the talent to do these? They’re amazing. This other life size one of Maureen draped beside a coffin puts Sara Welbeck’s work in the shade for creative originality. Looks like Maureen posed for him. These others he must have done from memory,’ he said rubbing his nose with forefinger and thumb as he looked them over. ‘I recall now an autistic boy who could sketch buildings like a trained architect. Does his grandmother come into this room often? It reminds me of Dracula’s lair. Is he really the artist?’
Turner was lost for words as his eyes travelled around the room swiftly. ‘He has to be, guv. They have his initials on all of them.’ He gulped on his pepper mint lump swallowed it too quickly and had a coughing fit trying to recover his breath.