We’ll need a written statement from you, Mrs. Sanderson-Browne, covering everything you’ve told us. Someone will be in touch on Monday to arrange it. The only other thing I need now is the name and address of the customer who bought that white silk dress.”
“Oh dear! You don’t have to trouble her, do you? I mean, she buys a lot of things from me. I’d hate to see her in any way upset or embarrassed.”
“We’ll explain that it’s not your fault. But we must get hold of that dress as possible evidence.”
* * * *
The Thursday market in Marlingford was a much-cherished tradition owing its existence to a charter granted by some long-ago monarch. Nowadays, it was controlled by the local council, but Kate couldn’t hope that the official responsible would be found at his office at this hour on a Saturday.
“I want the name and address of this woman stallholder, Pippa, and I want it now. Someone at DHQ can dig it out for us. If the market manager can’t be contacted at home, then they’ll have to get hold of someone else who can open up the Town Hall and look through the records. While we’re waiting for the information, I think you and I have earned ourselves a cup of tea, don’t you?”
There were several officers sprinkled around the DHQ canteen who eyed them with interest as they sat down with their teas at a table near one of the windows. Kate could see that Pippa was both nervous and chuffed to be sitting there with a chief inspector. She’d be twenty-two or -three, a pleasant-looking girl with curly fair hair. Though not tall, she had well-coordinated movements that suggested she’d put up a good show in a dodgy situation.
“It was very sharp of you spotting that dress,” Kate commended her. “Small things like that can make all the difference in an investigation.”
A faint surge of colour came to her face. “I do hope it leads to something, ma’am. This is the first murder enquiry I’ve been on. It’s very exciting.”
“How long have you been in the force?”
“Three years now. Before that I worked in an insurance office, but it was deadly dull.”
“Are you ambitious, Pippa?”
“You mean ... about getting promotion?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to have a stab at the sergeants’ exam the minute I’m eligible. My boyfriend says I must be crazy. He reckons this is no career for a woman.” She looked confused. “Oh, I didn’t mean ...”
Kate smiled. “Your boyfriend isn’t the only man around who takes that view. Is he in the police, too?”
“No, he’s an electrical engineer.”
“Well, let me tell you something, Pippa. No career is right for a woman, not the police or anything else. It’s the woman who has to be right for the career. You do whatever you want to do. And aim high.”
“Thanks, ma’am. I know it’s good advice. I’ll tell Derek what you said.”
“He’ll probably say that I’m trying to interfere in your life.”
“Oh no, he won’t, he’ll damn well take notice. I’ll make him take notice.”
Kate spotted a PC enter the canteen and scan the room. He started over in her direction, a piece of paper in his hand.
“Good, here’s the information we’re waiting for. Drink up.” Draining her own teacup, she reached for her shoulderbag and stood up. “Stick at it, Pippa, and you’ll get there. You’ve got the makings.”
Chapter Seven
Mermaid Crescent was only one of several colourful street names that had been chosen by the local council for an estate of extremely colourless houses. To reach it, Kate turned the car by the water works into Hydrangea Grove, then drove along the length of Pearblossom Avenue. The house she sought was one of a terrace of four, all faced with a reconstituted imitation of Cotswold stone. The front garden of number sixteen was particularly unkempt, with seeding weeds everywhere.
Kate and WPC Hamilton got out of the car and approached the front door. The woman who answered the bell could perhaps be
“Oh dear! You don’t have to trouble her, do you? I mean, she buys a lot of things from me. I’d hate to see her in any way upset or embarrassed.”
“We’ll explain that it’s not your fault. But we must get hold of that dress as possible evidence.”
* * * *
The Thursday market in Marlingford was a much-cherished tradition owing its existence to a charter granted by some long-ago monarch. Nowadays, it was controlled by the local council, but Kate couldn’t hope that the official responsible would be found at his office at this hour on a Saturday.
“I want the name and address of this woman stallholder, Pippa, and I want it now. Someone at DHQ can dig it out for us. If the market manager can’t be contacted at home, then they’ll have to get hold of someone else who can open up the Town Hall and look through the records. While we’re waiting for the information, I think you and I have earned ourselves a cup of tea, don’t you?”
There were several officers sprinkled around the DHQ canteen who eyed them with interest as they sat down with their teas at a table near one of the windows. Kate could see that Pippa was both nervous and chuffed to be sitting there with a chief inspector. She’d be twenty-two or -three, a pleasant-looking girl with curly fair hair. Though not tall, she had well-coordinated movements that suggested she’d put up a good show in a dodgy situation.
“It was very sharp of you spotting that dress,” Kate commended her. “Small things like that can make all the difference in an investigation.”
A faint surge of colour came to her face. “I do hope it leads to something, ma’am. This is the first murder enquiry I’ve been on. It’s very exciting.”
“How long have you been in the force?”
“Three years now. Before that I worked in an insurance office, but it was deadly dull.”
“Are you ambitious, Pippa?”
“You mean ... about getting promotion?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to have a stab at the sergeants’ exam the minute I’m eligible. My boyfriend says I must be crazy. He reckons this is no career for a woman.” She looked confused. “Oh, I didn’t mean ...”
Kate smiled. “Your boyfriend isn’t the only man around who takes that view. Is he in the police, too?”
“No, he’s an electrical engineer.”
“Well, let me tell you something, Pippa. No career is right for a woman, not the police or anything else. It’s the woman who has to be right for the career. You do whatever you want to do. And aim high.”
“Thanks, ma’am. I know it’s good advice. I’ll tell Derek what you said.”
“He’ll probably say that I’m trying to interfere in your life.”
“Oh no, he won’t, he’ll damn well take notice. I’ll make him take notice.”
Kate spotted a PC enter the canteen and scan the room. He started over in her direction, a piece of paper in his hand.
“Good, here’s the information we’re waiting for. Drink up.” Draining her own teacup, she reached for her shoulderbag and stood up. “Stick at it, Pippa, and you’ll get there. You’ve got the makings.”
Chapter Seven
Mermaid Crescent was only one of several colourful street names that had been chosen by the local council for an estate of extremely colourless houses. To reach it, Kate turned the car by the water works into Hydrangea Grove, then drove along the length of Pearblossom Avenue. The house she sought was one of a terrace of four, all faced with a reconstituted imitation of Cotswold stone. The front garden of number sixteen was particularly unkempt, with seeding weeds everywhere.
Kate and WPC Hamilton got out of the car and approached the front door. The woman who answered the bell could perhaps be
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