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into the ambulance which, after Kirby had climbed into the back, drove off. Hayes took off his cap and flopped into one of the arm chairs. Where was Ray Mackenzie? Could the husband be the killer?
        'Find anything?' he asked, wiping his forehead.
        P.C. Gary Briggs nodded and lifted a plastic bag from the coffee table. It contained the jewel box which had belonged to June Mackenzie. Hayes took the box out and opened it.
        'We found it upstairs,' Briggs told him, 'under a pillow on the bed.'
        Hayes looked into the box and saw the medallion. He studied it a moment then looked up at Briggs. The youngster shrugged. 'It's bloody old, whatever it is.'
        Hayes handed it back. 'Take it down to the station. Lock it in the safe.'
        Briggs nodded and dropped the medallion back into the jewel box.
        'Did anyone talk to the woman who reported this?' asked the sergeant.
        'Tony did,' answered Briggs, nodding out of the window, indicating P.C. Walford standing outside the front gate talking to a group of people who were trying to see into the Mackenzie house. 'Her husband found the bodies. She reported it straight away.'
        'Poor bastard,' said Hayes, quietly, 'it must have been quite a shock for him.'
        Hayes struggled to his feet, feeling more aware of his ample stomach than usual, and replaced his cap on his balding head.
        'What do you want us to do, Sarge?' asked Briggs.
        'Just keep this quiet. I don't want word getting about, understand? This is a nice town. The people aren't ready for this sort of thing. If any reporters turn up, tell them to fuck off.' He paused as he reached the door. 'I'm going back to the station, I'm going to get in touch with Inspector Lambert. I think we need him on this one.'
        He walked out into the fresh morning air and inhaled deeply, allowing the crisp wind to wash the stench of blood and death from his nostrils.
        He nodded to Walford as he passed, on his way to the Panda car parked across the street. Hayes slid behind the wheel and started the engine, picking up the car's two-way radio as he guided it out into the street. He flicked on the transmitter and spoke through the crackle of static, 'Puma One to base.'
        The static crackled more fiercely.
        'Puma One to base, move your self, Davies.' There was a buzz as he flicked to receive and a metallic voice came through, 'Sorry, Sarge, the kettle was boiling, I had to turn it off.'
        'Well, put mine out, I'll be back in two minutes and Davies, remember, one sugar, I'm trying to slim. Over.'
        'About time, Sarge.' A giggle. 'Over'.
        'Fuck off. Over and out.'
        
***
        
        Lambert heard the phone ringing as he stepped out of the Capri. He hurriedly locked the door and sped towards the house, wondering who was calling and hoping they wouldn't ring off before he got to the phone. He fumbled out his front door key and dashed in, snatching up the receiver in the nick of time.
        'Hello,' he said, breathlessly.
        'Hello, sir.'
        Lambert recognized the voice immediately as Hayes. 'Sergeant. What can I do for you?'
        'I've rung twice before, I didn't think you were there.'
        'I was at the…' Lambert's voice trailed off and Hayes realized that his superior had been to the cemetery. 'What's so important Sergeant?'
        'Well, sir, you asked me to tell you if anything happened.'
        'Yes.' Lambert suddenly felt excited.
        'I'm afraid we've had a double murder.'
        'Where, for Christ's sake?'
        'Elm Street. Number…' Lambert heard the rustling of papers at the other end of the line, then Hayes came back on, 'number twelve. The wife and daughter. The husband is missing. We're treating the husband as prime suspect.'
        'What do you make of it?' asked Lambert, scribbling something down on the pad beside his telephone.
        'Knifings sir, both of