Read Online Strictly Murder by Lynda Wilcox - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lynda Wilcox
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thought back. "We had no evidence that the girl had been harmed. She could have gone off for any number of reasons. She might have had a boyfriend, been unhappy at home or bullied at school. Not that we found evidence for any of that, either. She might have had an accident. We checked with all the hospitals, it's the first thing we do, but we found no trace.”
“ So what did the friend,” I checked my notebook, “Kimberley, have to say?”
“ Nothing much. Nothing that helped us anyway. Charlotte had turned up at the house in the late afternoon and stayed for tea. Then the two of them had gone upstairs and listened to music. All very innocent, the sort of thing girls of that age do, at least if they are as well brought up as those two were. And yet …”
He paused, a crease appearing between his brows as he sifted through the memories of twenty years ago.
“ And yet …” I prompted.
“ Well, Kimberley was first interviewed by my sergeant, Delia Rees, and Delia was convinced she was holding something back.”
She was probably right, I thought. Most middle-aged men could have the wool pulled over their eyes by a sweet little girl. Trust another woman not to be so easily fooled. I wasn't about to say that, though. Instead I asked, “Such as?”
“ Oh, nothing important, I'm sure of that and I interviewed her enough times myself trying to discover what it was she wasn't saying. Girls of that age have their little secrets.” He laughed, ruefully. “And what they think is of consequence is often of little or no concern to their elders. But you'll know that.”
I nodded as if I were an authority on young teenage girls. On reflection maybe I was, after all I'd been there. Once. A long time ago. Twenty years ago I would have been almost a contemporary of Charlotte and Kimberley.
“ It could simply have been that they didn't do the homework they were supposed to do,” Plover went on, “or they'd leant out of the window for an illicit cigarette, something of that nature. Anyway, Delia was an experienced officer and she was sure there was something Kimberley wasn't telling us. Whatever it might have been, we never did get to the bottom of it.”
I changed tack.
“ And Roger Hughes? Why wasn't he watching the football?”
“ Oh, he's your candidate for villain of the piece is he?”
Plover smiled as he reached for the coffee pot and re-filled both our cups. I returned the smile but said nothing, merely taking the milk jug from his proffered hand.
“ Well, Hughes had an alibi, of sorts. He had spent the earlier part of the evening at a meeting of the local business club in the centre of Crofterton. According to him, and his wife confirmed it, he didn't arrive home until nearly nine, by which time Charlotte was long gone.”
“ His wife confirmed it?” I tried to keep the incredulity out of my voice. Of course his wife would have confirmed it, she would have backed him to the hilt even if she'd known he was lying through his teeth. Still, Plover and his team weren't fools. They'd have double-checked this.
“ Oh, I know what you're thinking, but we did have corroboration. A neighbour putting milk bottles out during a break in the football saw him drive up.”
“ What time would that be?”
“ Nearly nine o'clock as Hughes said.”
I hastily scribbled a note. I was still suspicious of Hughes and he would certainly serve KD's needs when she came to write the story. It would depend on how much would change; how much of the truth, if any, would be retained in the final telling of the tale. KD wrote fiction, after all, and my job was simply to gather the facts that made that fiction possible.
“ What about DNA testing?” I looked up from my writing.
“ What about it? It was in its infancy then and we didn't, thankfully, have a body against which to test it.”
I gave a defeated sigh.
"Oh, well. KD will just have to magic this one out of thin air."
"I'm sorry. I don't seem to have been much help
“ So what did the friend,” I checked my notebook, “Kimberley, have to say?”
“ Nothing much. Nothing that helped us anyway. Charlotte had turned up at the house in the late afternoon and stayed for tea. Then the two of them had gone upstairs and listened to music. All very innocent, the sort of thing girls of that age do, at least if they are as well brought up as those two were. And yet …”
He paused, a crease appearing between his brows as he sifted through the memories of twenty years ago.
“ And yet …” I prompted.
“ Well, Kimberley was first interviewed by my sergeant, Delia Rees, and Delia was convinced she was holding something back.”
She was probably right, I thought. Most middle-aged men could have the wool pulled over their eyes by a sweet little girl. Trust another woman not to be so easily fooled. I wasn't about to say that, though. Instead I asked, “Such as?”
“ Oh, nothing important, I'm sure of that and I interviewed her enough times myself trying to discover what it was she wasn't saying. Girls of that age have their little secrets.” He laughed, ruefully. “And what they think is of consequence is often of little or no concern to their elders. But you'll know that.”
I nodded as if I were an authority on young teenage girls. On reflection maybe I was, after all I'd been there. Once. A long time ago. Twenty years ago I would have been almost a contemporary of Charlotte and Kimberley.
“ It could simply have been that they didn't do the homework they were supposed to do,” Plover went on, “or they'd leant out of the window for an illicit cigarette, something of that nature. Anyway, Delia was an experienced officer and she was sure there was something Kimberley wasn't telling us. Whatever it might have been, we never did get to the bottom of it.”
I changed tack.
“ And Roger Hughes? Why wasn't he watching the football?”
“ Oh, he's your candidate for villain of the piece is he?”
Plover smiled as he reached for the coffee pot and re-filled both our cups. I returned the smile but said nothing, merely taking the milk jug from his proffered hand.
“ Well, Hughes had an alibi, of sorts. He had spent the earlier part of the evening at a meeting of the local business club in the centre of Crofterton. According to him, and his wife confirmed it, he didn't arrive home until nearly nine, by which time Charlotte was long gone.”
“ His wife confirmed it?” I tried to keep the incredulity out of my voice. Of course his wife would have confirmed it, she would have backed him to the hilt even if she'd known he was lying through his teeth. Still, Plover and his team weren't fools. They'd have double-checked this.
“ Oh, I know what you're thinking, but we did have corroboration. A neighbour putting milk bottles out during a break in the football saw him drive up.”
“ What time would that be?”
“ Nearly nine o'clock as Hughes said.”
I hastily scribbled a note. I was still suspicious of Hughes and he would certainly serve KD's needs when she came to write the story. It would depend on how much would change; how much of the truth, if any, would be retained in the final telling of the tale. KD wrote fiction, after all, and my job was simply to gather the facts that made that fiction possible.
“ What about DNA testing?” I looked up from my writing.
“ What about it? It was in its infancy then and we didn't, thankfully, have a body against which to test it.”
I gave a defeated sigh.
"Oh, well. KD will just have to magic this one out of thin air."
"I'm sorry. I don't seem to have been much help
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