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Authors: Elly Griffiths
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blank. ‘I hope you enjoy it,’ he said.
‘I’m not sure I can enjoy anything any more,’ said Edgar.
*
‘This is now a murder investigation,’ Edgar told the team. ‘We’ve got to put aside all feelings of sadness and regret and concentrate on finding the person who killed Annie and Mark. We owe it to their parents and we owe it to the community. Because, if I’m sure of one thing, it’s that this person will strike again. They’ll be feeling clever, they’ll be thinking that they’ve outwitted us, they’ll want to try again. Well, we’ve got to stop them.’
He looked at the faces in front of him. Emma had cried yesterday when she’d seen the photographs of the dead children but now she was utterly calm, notepad open on her lap. Bob, who had turned away and punched the wall, was now registering only professionalism and determination, his boyish face a picture of concentration. Edgar felt proud of them all.
‘The crime scene has been thoroughly searched,’ he said. ‘Carter thinks that the children were strangled and then laid in the ditch. It’s probable that they weren’t killed at the site so we’re looking for anyone seen with a car near Devil’s Dyke on Monday evening or Tuesday. The cold has made it difficult to ascertain time of death but we’re pretty sure that the bodies were put in the ditch before the snow started to fall on Tuesday night. The positioning of the bodies, almost in the open near the footpath, makes it seem as if the killer wanted them to be found quickly. It was the snow that scuppered that plan. And these were found at the scene.’ He upended a plastic bag onto the table. Chairs scraped back as people leant forward. Emma was scribbling furiously.
‘It’s a selection of sweets,’ said Edgar. ‘They were placed along the path as if they were leading to the children. Some sweets, like this stick of Brighton rock, were actually thrown into the grave with them.’
Bob was the first to say it. ‘Does this point to the sweetshop owner, Sam Gee?’
‘We’ll compare the sweets to the selection sold in Mr Gee’s shop,’ said Edgar, ‘but we have to be careful about concentrating on any one suspect at this early stage. We have to keep an open mind.’
‘If anyone bought that lot,’ said Bob, ‘it would be a year’s worth of rations.’ Bob had a sweet tooth – Edgar had noticed this before – and often talked about the halcyon day when sugar rationing would be over.
Emma pushed the hair back from her face. ‘It’s a bit like “Hansel and Gretel”, isn’t it? Didn’t they lay a trail through the forest? And they were imprisoned in a house made from sweets.’
There was a murmur in the room. Edgar said quickly, ‘Excellent observation, Sergeant Holmes, but let’s keep it to ourselves. The last thing we want is for the press to call this the “Hansel and Gretel murder”.’
‘I was just wondering about Annie’s play,’ said Emma. ‘
The Stolen Children
. There was something in it that reminded me of “Hansel and Gretel”.’
‘The bit about the Witch Man keeping them until they were fat enough to eat,’ said Bob. ‘I remember that too.’
‘It’s worth checking,’ said Edgar. ‘Let’s speak to her parents and her teachers. Emma, you go to Annie and Mark’s schools. Bob, you come with me to talk to Mr Gee.’
Frank Hodges had been standing in the background, watching Edgar critically. Now he came forward to examine the photographs. ‘Hansel and Gretel,’ he said. ‘More like Babes in the Wood. Poor little sods.’
*
Max was met at his dressing-room door by Roger Dunkley.
‘Bad news,’ said the director.
Max opened the door. ‘Surprise me.’
‘We’ve found Dick Felsing pissed out of his head on a park bench. He’s hit the bottle in a big way. There’s no way he can go on tomorrow.’
‘Has he got an understudy?’
‘For the Emperor of Peking? Do me a favour. The management doesn’t run to understudies. But I’ve
‘I’m not sure I can enjoy anything any more,’ said Edgar.
*
‘This is now a murder investigation,’ Edgar told the team. ‘We’ve got to put aside all feelings of sadness and regret and concentrate on finding the person who killed Annie and Mark. We owe it to their parents and we owe it to the community. Because, if I’m sure of one thing, it’s that this person will strike again. They’ll be feeling clever, they’ll be thinking that they’ve outwitted us, they’ll want to try again. Well, we’ve got to stop them.’
He looked at the faces in front of him. Emma had cried yesterday when she’d seen the photographs of the dead children but now she was utterly calm, notepad open on her lap. Bob, who had turned away and punched the wall, was now registering only professionalism and determination, his boyish face a picture of concentration. Edgar felt proud of them all.
‘The crime scene has been thoroughly searched,’ he said. ‘Carter thinks that the children were strangled and then laid in the ditch. It’s probable that they weren’t killed at the site so we’re looking for anyone seen with a car near Devil’s Dyke on Monday evening or Tuesday. The cold has made it difficult to ascertain time of death but we’re pretty sure that the bodies were put in the ditch before the snow started to fall on Tuesday night. The positioning of the bodies, almost in the open near the footpath, makes it seem as if the killer wanted them to be found quickly. It was the snow that scuppered that plan. And these were found at the scene.’ He upended a plastic bag onto the table. Chairs scraped back as people leant forward. Emma was scribbling furiously.
‘It’s a selection of sweets,’ said Edgar. ‘They were placed along the path as if they were leading to the children. Some sweets, like this stick of Brighton rock, were actually thrown into the grave with them.’
Bob was the first to say it. ‘Does this point to the sweetshop owner, Sam Gee?’
‘We’ll compare the sweets to the selection sold in Mr Gee’s shop,’ said Edgar, ‘but we have to be careful about concentrating on any one suspect at this early stage. We have to keep an open mind.’
‘If anyone bought that lot,’ said Bob, ‘it would be a year’s worth of rations.’ Bob had a sweet tooth – Edgar had noticed this before – and often talked about the halcyon day when sugar rationing would be over.
Emma pushed the hair back from her face. ‘It’s a bit like “Hansel and Gretel”, isn’t it? Didn’t they lay a trail through the forest? And they were imprisoned in a house made from sweets.’
There was a murmur in the room. Edgar said quickly, ‘Excellent observation, Sergeant Holmes, but let’s keep it to ourselves. The last thing we want is for the press to call this the “Hansel and Gretel murder”.’
‘I was just wondering about Annie’s play,’ said Emma. ‘
The Stolen Children
. There was something in it that reminded me of “Hansel and Gretel”.’
‘The bit about the Witch Man keeping them until they were fat enough to eat,’ said Bob. ‘I remember that too.’
‘It’s worth checking,’ said Edgar. ‘Let’s speak to her parents and her teachers. Emma, you go to Annie and Mark’s schools. Bob, you come with me to talk to Mr Gee.’
Frank Hodges had been standing in the background, watching Edgar critically. Now he came forward to examine the photographs. ‘Hansel and Gretel,’ he said. ‘More like Babes in the Wood. Poor little sods.’
*
Max was met at his dressing-room door by Roger Dunkley.
‘Bad news,’ said the director.
Max opened the door. ‘Surprise me.’
‘We’ve found Dick Felsing pissed out of his head on a park bench. He’s hit the bottle in a big way. There’s no way he can go on tomorrow.’
‘Has he got an understudy?’
‘For the Emperor of Peking? Do me a favour. The management doesn’t run to understudies. But I’ve
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