departure, that’s for sure.’
The sound of heavy feet tramping up the wooden stairs told them that the rest of the team had arrived. Kent opened up the door to them. He gave them a few seconds to take in the disaster scene then said; ‘Let’s go, Turner. We’ll leave you to it, lads. Someone gave it a good going over before we got here. Probably you’ll only get her dabs and Jones’s around the place. But you can never tell. Try the bathroom cabinet. You might find some stray ones on there. She was on the pill. Perhaps Jones was worried about that as far as her parents are concerned.’
Turner glanced surreptitiously at his watch. He was thinking of the chicken salad waiting for him back home and the apple crumble and cream. He was now feeling like a limp lettuce even in his short shirtsleeves and casual pants. Perhaps he ought to have a better try at losing weight. He’d planned to do the lawn for the second weekend running it had been left far too long already. He’d promised Carole he’d make it his priority.
And Carole had her own work cut out, her job as a district nurse, keeping her busy. He wished she hadn’t gone back to nursing now that the children were growing up. The warm weather was not giving up for the day at least, but probably planning to piss down with rain during the next few days to make the Carnival week, the wettest of the year. A gusty sigh escaped him as he tackled the stairs again.
‘Go home, Turner. You look famished. That bacon sandwich couldn’t hold you together for long. Come back after lunch; I would like to ask Mrs Flitch some more questions about Yvette. They worked together at the Nag’s Head. Perhaps Mrs Flitch could tell us a few things about our French Miss; some things that Cliff Jones neglected to tell us. Our fair Mam’selle must have come into contact with other men in the bar she worked in and perhaps unknown to her boyfriend. Who was she meeting at the chapel and who else had a key to the place?’
20
Kathie Flitch wasn’t pleased to see them, when they walked in to the Saloon bar and asked for her in the Nag’s Head. She flicked a cloth along the bar counter. ‘What do you want this time? I’ve told you all I know about Maureen Carey. You’ll give me a bad name asking so many questions.’ But she was smiling.
‘I would like to ask you how well you know Yvette Marceau, as she’s worked here with you at different times.’
‘She still does. She’s got time off today. Why are you asking?’ Kathie said gathering up some dirty glasses off the top of the bar. ‘What’s she been getting up to?’
She saw the grim expression on Kent’s face and stopped what she was doing. ‘Oh no! Has something happened to her? I told her to go straight home after she finished work but she wouldn’t listen. Said she was getting a cab. Her boyfriend was working late last night.’
‘Mrs Flitch, I’m sorry to have to break it to you like this. Yvette is dead.’
She cried out and dropped a glass she was rinsing onto the floor where it shattered into pieces at her feet. She stood looking down at it for a moment, or so, with a shocked expression on her pretty face.
‘Leave that for a moment please if you will. Can you come over here, Mrs Flitch, sit down for a moment and tell us what she said to you concerning meeting someone.’
She sat down at the table. ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’ Kent shook his head. ‘Thanks.’ She opened up her purse, fumbled with the pack and gas lighter.
‘So - what time was it when she left here and was she on her own?’
‘After we’d cleared up the glasses.’ She lit a cigarette and drew hard on it before answering. ‘It was a busy night. The place was full because we had the Karaoke Talent night. It always draws in the punters. So it was nearly midnight before we finished. John our landlord will tell you the same. Yvette told me she was meeting a bloke.’
‘And he was?’
‘She didn’t say who but it wasn’t
The sound of heavy feet tramping up the wooden stairs told them that the rest of the team had arrived. Kent opened up the door to them. He gave them a few seconds to take in the disaster scene then said; ‘Let’s go, Turner. We’ll leave you to it, lads. Someone gave it a good going over before we got here. Probably you’ll only get her dabs and Jones’s around the place. But you can never tell. Try the bathroom cabinet. You might find some stray ones on there. She was on the pill. Perhaps Jones was worried about that as far as her parents are concerned.’
Turner glanced surreptitiously at his watch. He was thinking of the chicken salad waiting for him back home and the apple crumble and cream. He was now feeling like a limp lettuce even in his short shirtsleeves and casual pants. Perhaps he ought to have a better try at losing weight. He’d planned to do the lawn for the second weekend running it had been left far too long already. He’d promised Carole he’d make it his priority.
And Carole had her own work cut out, her job as a district nurse, keeping her busy. He wished she hadn’t gone back to nursing now that the children were growing up. The warm weather was not giving up for the day at least, but probably planning to piss down with rain during the next few days to make the Carnival week, the wettest of the year. A gusty sigh escaped him as he tackled the stairs again.
‘Go home, Turner. You look famished. That bacon sandwich couldn’t hold you together for long. Come back after lunch; I would like to ask Mrs Flitch some more questions about Yvette. They worked together at the Nag’s Head. Perhaps Mrs Flitch could tell us a few things about our French Miss; some things that Cliff Jones neglected to tell us. Our fair Mam’selle must have come into contact with other men in the bar she worked in and perhaps unknown to her boyfriend. Who was she meeting at the chapel and who else had a key to the place?’
20
Kathie Flitch wasn’t pleased to see them, when they walked in to the Saloon bar and asked for her in the Nag’s Head. She flicked a cloth along the bar counter. ‘What do you want this time? I’ve told you all I know about Maureen Carey. You’ll give me a bad name asking so many questions.’ But she was smiling.
‘I would like to ask you how well you know Yvette Marceau, as she’s worked here with you at different times.’
‘She still does. She’s got time off today. Why are you asking?’ Kathie said gathering up some dirty glasses off the top of the bar. ‘What’s she been getting up to?’
She saw the grim expression on Kent’s face and stopped what she was doing. ‘Oh no! Has something happened to her? I told her to go straight home after she finished work but she wouldn’t listen. Said she was getting a cab. Her boyfriend was working late last night.’
‘Mrs Flitch, I’m sorry to have to break it to you like this. Yvette is dead.’
She cried out and dropped a glass she was rinsing onto the floor where it shattered into pieces at her feet. She stood looking down at it for a moment, or so, with a shocked expression on her pretty face.
‘Leave that for a moment please if you will. Can you come over here, Mrs Flitch, sit down for a moment and tell us what she said to you concerning meeting someone.’
She sat down at the table. ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’ Kent shook his head. ‘Thanks.’ She opened up her purse, fumbled with the pack and gas lighter.
‘So - what time was it when she left here and was she on her own?’
‘After we’d cleared up the glasses.’ She lit a cigarette and drew hard on it before answering. ‘It was a busy night. The place was full because we had the Karaoke Talent night. It always draws in the punters. So it was nearly midnight before we finished. John our landlord will tell you the same. Yvette told me she was meeting a bloke.’
‘And he was?’
‘She didn’t say who but it wasn’t
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