Read Online Death's Dark Shadow--A novel of murder in 1970's Yorkshire by Sally Spencer - Free Book Online

in a foreign country.
    Paniatowski felt a wave of shame wash over her. She had always said that all she ever wanted was for Louisa to be happy – and if Louisa could be happier in Spain than she was in England, then that was just fine.
    Honestly it was.
    â€˜You’re off picking daisies again, Mum,’ Louisa said.
    â€˜You’re right, I was,’ Paniatowski agreed. ‘You’re determined to talk about the sketch whatever I say, aren’t you?’
    â€˜Well, I do think it’s quite important,’ Louisa said seriously.
    â€˜All right, let’s have it,’ Paniatowski said, lighting up a cigarette and giving in to the inevitable.
    â€˜I’m not absolutely sure about it, but I think that I may have met her,’ Louisa said.
    â€˜It is only a sketch, you know, Louisa,’ Paniatowski pointed out. ‘It’s meant to be a memory jogger, rather than an accurate portrait.’
    â€˜What do you mean?’
    â€˜What normally happens is that people look at the picture and say to themselves, “That’s a bit like Mrs Smith.” And then they think, “Where is Mrs Smith? I haven’t seen her around recently.” And that’s when they contact us. Sometimes it
is
Mrs Smith, and sometimes it turns out to be someone quite different. As I said, it’s only a sketch.’
    â€˜Could I see the photograph of her?’ Louisa asked.
    â€˜I don’t have a photograph of her,’ Paniatowski replied. ‘She didn’t have a handbag, and since we have no idea where she lives …’
    â€˜Ah!’ Louisa interrupted – and it was a very significant ‘ah’ – ‘you don’t know where she lives.’
    â€˜And what’s that supposed to mean?’ Paniatowski asked.
    â€˜I really would like to see the photograph, Mum,’ Louisa said insistently.
    â€˜I’ve told you, we haven’t got one.’
    â€˜Not one of her alive, no,’ Louisa agreed. ‘But you’ll have one – probably several – of her dead.’
    â€˜Yes, I do have photographs of the body – but I’ve no intention of showing it to you.’
    â€˜You let me see Grandad and Granny, when they died,’ Louisa pointed out. ‘You let me look right down into their coffins – and I was much younger then than I am now.’
    â€˜That was entirely different,’ Paniatowski countered. ‘They were your Spanish family, and it was the proper thing to do. You were paying them your respects. This woman, on the other hand, is a murder victim who was in the water for at least three days …’
    â€˜Don’t you harbour a secret ambition that I might eventually decide to become a doctor?’ Louisa asked cunningly.
    â€˜What makes you think that?’ asked Paniatowski, who thought she’d been very discreet about her flights of fancy.
    â€˜Don’t you?’ Louisa persisted.
    â€˜I’ve considered the possibility that your thoughts might turn in that direction eventually,’ Paniatowski said, suddenly on the defensive.
    â€˜So if I do decide to become a doctor, you’ll have no objection to me cutting up bodies in three years’ time – but you won’t even show me a picture of a dead woman now,’ Louisa said.
    Paniatowski sighed and opened her briefcase. ‘Here you are,’ she said, laying the photograph on the table. ‘And I hope that makes you happy!’
    Louisa examined the picture from one angle, and then from another.
    â€˜She’s rather puffed up,’ she said.
    â€˜I did warn you it wouldn’t be pleasant,’ Paniatowski said. ‘So if you’re upset now, you’ve only yourself to blame.’
    But Louisa didn’t actually seem as if she was upset – in fact, she seemed to be rather enjoying herself.
    â€˜Yes, she doesn’t look quite right, but I’m certain it’s Doña Elena,’ the