Read Online Fruitful Bodies by Morag Joss - Free Book Online
Authors: Morag Joss
Tags: Mystery
Ads: Link
speak to her,’ Sara blurted. ‘That’s all right, isn’t it?’ The WPO glanced back at DS Bridger. ‘Should be,’ she said. As an afterthought she added softly, ‘Just insist, if you have to.’
But she didn’t. Bridger gave Sara a cold but respectful smile which told her that while she was no more popular with him than she had ever been, he now knew her to be his boss’s—what? This little problem was one that she sometimes scratched at. Girlfriend? She was a woman of thirty-nine. Lover? Such a private thing should not be paraded by a public label. Partner? She wasn’t, not properly, nor did she like the business implication. Companion? The pensioners’ choice, suggesting days out to factory shops and evenings in.
‘Miss Selkirk is a close personal friend of DCI Poole,’ Bridger informed the WPO. Friend, pronounced ‘furrend’ to convey extra friendliness. As if it mattered now. Sara thought of Andrew and his desertion with a sudden wave of irritation.
‘Now, Miss Cruikshank, I understand that after ordering lunch’—Bridger was checking some notes, presumably information from Andrew—‘you left your seat outside at approximately a quarter past one in order to goto the toilet. Would you please tell me exactly what you did when you got there?’
Joyce blinked a few times and her lips wriggled like two worms trying to free themselves of each other. ‘I didn’t go to the toilet. I went to the lavatory. And it’s none of your business what a lady does in the lavatory,’ she said. Sara drew in her bottom lip and looked at her hands. She had better not laugh, but God bless Joyce and Kelvinside.
‘I mean, of course,’ Bridger said wearily, ‘after you’d used the toilet. Assuming you went straight to the ladies and er … used the facilities. What happened then?’
‘I washed my hands, of course,’ Joyce said primly. ‘And then I tidied my hair and left the
lavatory.’
She patted her head in emphasis and Sara looked at her, knowing this to be a lie. The hair had obviously not been touched that day and looked more as if it had been ploughed than tidied.
‘And then?’
‘Those doors—there were doors in the corridor, going down the wall. She fell straight out, she fell
right out on top of me.’
Joyce looked round the table with indignant eyes, trying to enlist sympathy. ‘The door must have been left open. Half open, anyway.’ She seemed on the brink of complaining to the management.
‘Did you see anyone else, either in the ladies’ toilet or in the corridor outside?’
‘No. Just me.’
‘Really? Nobody at all? It’s a busy day for the pub, after all. And there were a lot of people outside on the street who could have been using the toilets.’
‘There wasn’t anybody else. I was minding my own business. I don’t go round looking at people in the lavatory, I’d like you to know.’
‘And you say you think the cupboard door may have been open. What do you mean by that? Try to remember—when you came out and saw the doors, were they open or closed?’
‘Did you not hear me? She fell straight out on top of me. So they must have been open. Or maybe half open. I think they may have been open, I’m not sure.’
‘Were the doors open or closed when you went past them on the way in?’
‘They were closed.’
‘You’re sure of that? They were definitely closed?’
‘Yes, definitely,’ Joyce said. ‘They … well …’ She had sensed a trap, too late.
‘You see, if you’re quite sure they were closed on the way in—obviously you could see them clearly—how is it you’re not sure if they were closed on your way out?’
Joyce shrugged. ‘It’s no business of mine, what the doors were doing is nothing to me. I just …’
‘If the lady fell out on top of you, you’re saying, I think, that she must have been propped upright in the cupboard with her weight against the inside of the door? Which must have been closed, mustn’t it, otherwise our lady
But she didn’t. Bridger gave Sara a cold but respectful smile which told her that while she was no more popular with him than she had ever been, he now knew her to be his boss’s—what? This little problem was one that she sometimes scratched at. Girlfriend? She was a woman of thirty-nine. Lover? Such a private thing should not be paraded by a public label. Partner? She wasn’t, not properly, nor did she like the business implication. Companion? The pensioners’ choice, suggesting days out to factory shops and evenings in.
‘Miss Selkirk is a close personal friend of DCI Poole,’ Bridger informed the WPO. Friend, pronounced ‘furrend’ to convey extra friendliness. As if it mattered now. Sara thought of Andrew and his desertion with a sudden wave of irritation.
‘Now, Miss Cruikshank, I understand that after ordering lunch’—Bridger was checking some notes, presumably information from Andrew—‘you left your seat outside at approximately a quarter past one in order to goto the toilet. Would you please tell me exactly what you did when you got there?’
Joyce blinked a few times and her lips wriggled like two worms trying to free themselves of each other. ‘I didn’t go to the toilet. I went to the lavatory. And it’s none of your business what a lady does in the lavatory,’ she said. Sara drew in her bottom lip and looked at her hands. She had better not laugh, but God bless Joyce and Kelvinside.
‘I mean, of course,’ Bridger said wearily, ‘after you’d used the toilet. Assuming you went straight to the ladies and er … used the facilities. What happened then?’
‘I washed my hands, of course,’ Joyce said primly. ‘And then I tidied my hair and left the
lavatory.’
She patted her head in emphasis and Sara looked at her, knowing this to be a lie. The hair had obviously not been touched that day and looked more as if it had been ploughed than tidied.
‘And then?’
‘Those doors—there were doors in the corridor, going down the wall. She fell straight out, she fell
right out on top of me.’
Joyce looked round the table with indignant eyes, trying to enlist sympathy. ‘The door must have been left open. Half open, anyway.’ She seemed on the brink of complaining to the management.
‘Did you see anyone else, either in the ladies’ toilet or in the corridor outside?’
‘No. Just me.’
‘Really? Nobody at all? It’s a busy day for the pub, after all. And there were a lot of people outside on the street who could have been using the toilets.’
‘There wasn’t anybody else. I was minding my own business. I don’t go round looking at people in the lavatory, I’d like you to know.’
‘And you say you think the cupboard door may have been open. What do you mean by that? Try to remember—when you came out and saw the doors, were they open or closed?’
‘Did you not hear me? She fell straight out on top of me. So they must have been open. Or maybe half open. I think they may have been open, I’m not sure.’
‘Were the doors open or closed when you went past them on the way in?’
‘They were closed.’
‘You’re sure of that? They were definitely closed?’
‘Yes, definitely,’ Joyce said. ‘They … well …’ She had sensed a trap, too late.
‘You see, if you’re quite sure they were closed on the way in—obviously you could see them clearly—how is it you’re not sure if they were closed on your way out?’
Joyce shrugged. ‘It’s no business of mine, what the doors were doing is nothing to me. I just …’
‘If the lady fell out on top of you, you’re saying, I think, that she must have been propped upright in the cupboard with her weight against the inside of the door? Which must have been closed, mustn’t it, otherwise our lady
Similar Books
