he'd turned out
like that.'
Upset her or her daughter? Heffernan
wondered.
'Did your nephew and his friends
have any contact with your American guests?'
'They begged from them outside in
the carpark and on the beach,' she said crossly. 'But mostly they got short
shrift. Veterans who've been through a world war and survived aren't the best
people to scrounge from. They've seen too much to believe a hard-luck story.'
Wesley nodded. Mrs Slater's last
observation was probably right. 'Did they have any arguments with the
Americans?'
'There were a few angry words, but
no actual arguments.'
'The sergeant, Mr Boratski, says
Norman Openheim was threatened by them. Did you hear anything about that?'
Mrs Slater shook her head.
The inspector stood up. 'Thank you
for your time, Mrs Slater. Just one more thing. The knife your nephew has ...
what sort is it?'
'One of those flick-knives... nasty,
vicious-looking thing.'
'Long, thin blade?'
She nodded.
'What's your nephew's full name?'
'Nigel William Glanville ... but his
friends seem to call him Rat,'
Chapter Four
When the residents of this beautiful
part of South Devon returned from their enforced evacuation in 1944, the first
priority was to get the farmland ready for the autumn sowing. The land was
swept with mine detectors; hordes of rats who had feasted in the
neglected barns had to be exterminated. Our allies had left devastation behind
them.
The Spanish who had come up our
beach three hundred and fifty-six years before to invade those fertile fields
were, fortunately, never given the opportunity to reap such destruction.
From A History of Bereton and Its People by June Mallindale
Rachel was glad when the inspector
suggested that Wesley should go with her to see the mysterious Marion. Wesley
was a contentedly married man awaiting
the birth of his first child ... and always behaved like a gentleman; not like
Steve Carstairs. who lost no opportunity to practise the old hand-on-knee trick
and let no double entendre go unexploited. Besides. Wesley was interesting to talk to, unlike Steve, a local boy whose
horizons did not extend beyond the tawdry nightlife of Morbay. That's what she liked
about her boyfriend Dave (an Australian who'd backpacked around a fair chunk of
the world)... he was interesting.
'Anything new to report?" she
asked as Wesley got into the car.
'Three beggars hanging about: one of
them's the nephew of the hotel owner and a vicious little bastard. He's got a
flick-knife and he threatened his aunty with it.'
'Charming. What does the boss say?
Is he our man?'
'He doesn't seem to be in much of a
hurry to find him. We've pulled his two friends in but the nephew got away. And
do you know what his nickname is? Rat.'
'Hence the rat at the murder scene?'
'Could be. We've alerted all patrols
to apprehend him and we've checked him out on the PNC. He's got a record for
theft and possession of drugs and he's done six months for actual bodily harm.'
'Charming.'
'Who's this Marion, then? Wartime
sweetheart?'
'Sounds that way from the letter. Want to see it?' She passed the letter in its
plastic bag to Wesley.
'The chapel again. Seems our Norman
was a bit of a lad in his day.'
'Him and Mrs O. made a good pair,
then. She's hardly prostrate with grief.'
'Maybe they didn't get on. His old
sergeant reckoned she was having it off with Todd Weringer.'
'I remember him ... quite attractive
for his age.'
'I didn't know you went in for older
men. How's Dave, by the way?" Wesley had met Rachel's Australian six
months before when he had arrested him. Dave's innocence established and his then
girlfriend departed for fresh pastures. Rachel had taken
advantage of the situation and offered him accommodation in a holiday flat on
her family's farm.
She suddenly became serious,
annoyed. 'My dad says he needs the flat for holiday lets ... it's been
like that.'
Upset her or her daughter? Heffernan
wondered.
'Did your nephew and his friends
have any contact with your American guests?'
'They begged from them outside in
the carpark and on the beach,' she said crossly. 'But mostly they got short
shrift. Veterans who've been through a world war and survived aren't the best
people to scrounge from. They've seen too much to believe a hard-luck story.'
Wesley nodded. Mrs Slater's last
observation was probably right. 'Did they have any arguments with the
Americans?'
'There were a few angry words, but
no actual arguments.'
'The sergeant, Mr Boratski, says
Norman Openheim was threatened by them. Did you hear anything about that?'
Mrs Slater shook her head.
The inspector stood up. 'Thank you
for your time, Mrs Slater. Just one more thing. The knife your nephew has ...
what sort is it?'
'One of those flick-knives... nasty,
vicious-looking thing.'
'Long, thin blade?'
She nodded.
'What's your nephew's full name?'
'Nigel William Glanville ... but his
friends seem to call him Rat,'
Chapter Four
When the residents of this beautiful
part of South Devon returned from their enforced evacuation in 1944, the first
priority was to get the farmland ready for the autumn sowing. The land was
swept with mine detectors; hordes of rats who had feasted in the
neglected barns had to be exterminated. Our allies had left devastation behind
them.
The Spanish who had come up our
beach three hundred and fifty-six years before to invade those fertile fields
were, fortunately, never given the opportunity to reap such destruction.
From A History of Bereton and Its People by June Mallindale
Rachel was glad when the inspector
suggested that Wesley should go with her to see the mysterious Marion. Wesley
was a contentedly married man awaiting
the birth of his first child ... and always behaved like a gentleman; not like
Steve Carstairs. who lost no opportunity to practise the old hand-on-knee trick
and let no double entendre go unexploited. Besides. Wesley was interesting to talk to, unlike Steve, a local boy whose
horizons did not extend beyond the tawdry nightlife of Morbay. That's what she liked
about her boyfriend Dave (an Australian who'd backpacked around a fair chunk of
the world)... he was interesting.
'Anything new to report?" she
asked as Wesley got into the car.
'Three beggars hanging about: one of
them's the nephew of the hotel owner and a vicious little bastard. He's got a
flick-knife and he threatened his aunty with it.'
'Charming. What does the boss say?
Is he our man?'
'He doesn't seem to be in much of a
hurry to find him. We've pulled his two friends in but the nephew got away. And
do you know what his nickname is? Rat.'
'Hence the rat at the murder scene?'
'Could be. We've alerted all patrols
to apprehend him and we've checked him out on the PNC. He's got a record for
theft and possession of drugs and he's done six months for actual bodily harm.'
'Charming.'
'Who's this Marion, then? Wartime
sweetheart?'
'Sounds that way from the letter. Want to see it?' She passed the letter in its
plastic bag to Wesley.
'The chapel again. Seems our Norman
was a bit of a lad in his day.'
'Him and Mrs O. made a good pair,
then. She's hardly prostrate with grief.'
'Maybe they didn't get on. His old
sergeant reckoned she was having it off with Todd Weringer.'
'I remember him ... quite attractive
for his age.'
'I didn't know you went in for older
men. How's Dave, by the way?" Wesley had met Rachel's Australian six
months before when he had arrested him. Dave's innocence established and his then
girlfriend departed for fresh pastures. Rachel had taken
advantage of the situation and offered him accommodation in a holiday flat on
her family's farm.
She suddenly became serious,
annoyed. 'My dad says he needs the flat for holiday lets ... it's been
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