51
‘Have you charged him officially, Jon?’
‘Not as yet. We’re still waiting for the result back from the boys in Forensics.’
‘What do they hope to find?’
‘Proof that he took all three girls in the van to those different places after he killed them. There’s bound to be his finger prints in the van. Some of Maureen’s too from previous trips. It’s something else to be able to prove Jodie’s presence in the van. Yvette-even more difficult.’
Viviane watched Jon as he drank the can of beer in the kitchen. He didn’t look happy. It had obviously been another tedious demanding day. Taking Raymond Perkins in hadn’t solved anything not as yet. What had they actually got against the boy? Mrs Flitch had given them some vital information about the stolen jewellery and panties. But it didn’t determine his guilt.
‘It’s all pretty circumstantial, Viviane.’ His cell phone rang noisily. He groaned. ‘Not bad news. God, I hope not. Yes, Turner?’
‘News from Forensics. The only evidence they can find are prints of two of the girls. The van was spotless. Been cleaned up by a vacuum. But we could still have him dead to rights. Sorry about that, guv.’ Turner chuckled. ‘The taxi driver took Yvette to the chapel. And she was dead afterwards. So there wouldn’t be any prints from her.’
‘Thanks. Give the boys, my thanks too. Early tomorrow, we’ll question Raymond Perkins faced with what we know already. Hope we can get a confession from him. He’s so afraid of upsetting his grandmother.’
‘Peebles says the boy’s not eating. Looks like he’s trying to go on a hunger strike.’
Perhaps they would get it wrapped up in a couple of days now. Maybe. Turner felt edgy. It was a gut feeling again that made the hairs prickle on the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to pass his feelings onto Kent. It was up to Kent to have the final say. But, for what it was worth, he couldn’t fit Perkins into the role of the killer.
This didn’t get past Kent. He waited for Turner to put in his two-penn’orth in the Incident Room. The rest of the team giving their thoughts on it agreed; Raymond Perkins would have to be questioned longer. But with no results they would have to let him go.
They were walking into the canteen. Turner hoping that a cup of tea would help to get rid of the bad taste in his mouth. And after his first mouthful he said, ‘Guv.’
Kent studied his Sergeant’s face carefully. It told him plenty. He groaned. ‘Come on now. Let’s be having it, man. That miserable expression on your face tells all. You’re in the same mind as myself. Not happy over everything pointing to Raymond Perkins’s guilt. How many bags of peppermint lumps have you got through in the last couple of days?’
Turner took out the half empty bag of sweets out of his pocket. ‘Plenty. Carole will give me hell if she finds out. But you’re right, guv. I’m not happy.’
Kent stirred his sugar into coffee. ‘It’s almost too pat. Obviously if he did it, Raymond must have thought out how he was going to get rid of Maureen. And if so he decided to bump off Yvette sooner than later. And Jodie, poor kid, followed as an afterthought. To make it look as if there was a psycho on the loose. But why use the panties? Unless he really is off his rocker?’
The Sergeant sighed. ‘So where do we go from here, guv? Do we keep him in for questioning?’
‘We’ve got no choice. He’s the only one of all the likely suspects without an alibi on those nights. We’ll have to keep him in for a while longer.’
52
‘Gran, I want to see my Mum.’
‘You can’t. She’s not here.’
‘You can find her. Get her to come please, Gran. Get them to ask for her on TV. Or on the radio. Tell her, it’s me, Raymond. Her son wants to see her. She’ll come. I know she will, Gran. I need her here.’
June Perkins felt in her roomy purse for her cologne scented handkerchief. She’d always dreaded this day. She thought that it might come sometime when he was old enough to express his feelings. And now it had. What could she say? He was waiting. She had to tell him the truth. She blinked and swallowed hard, her mouth was dry.
‘Gran, please. You’ve got to try for me. I need her here right now.’
‘You’ve got me. I’ve been like a mother to you, haven’t I?’
‘Yes- but it’s not the same. I want my Mum.’
‘She-she can’t come, dear,’ she blurted it out from where it had been hurting for so long inside. ‘She’s dead, dear. Your mother is dead.’ He was staring at her now, his eyes glistening with tears, and she felt her courage faltering but it had to be said, ‘She died when you were three years old. I couldn’t tell you not then. And afterwards, well- I thought that you might grow out of it. You’ve never asked for her before...’