than even chance he was one of the bad hats, and there was nothing more attractive at this stage of an investigation than a bad hat. It gave you something to follow up, a mote in the otherwise clear eye of all the unknowns.
‘Reading’s a long way,’ Connolly said. ‘What was Mike Carmichael doing over this way?’
‘Well, he had this motorbike,’ Mrs Wilding said, drying her eyes again. ‘He could get about on that all right.’
‘What I meant was, how did Zellah come to meet him?’
‘Oh, I see. Well, he had some friends who shared a house in Notting Hill, and one of them was Chloë Paulson’s brother. That time he brought Zellah home, they’d all been out together, a whole crowd of boys and girls. You know how they do. It wasn’t that way when I was young,’ she added in a complaining voice. ‘You went out in couples, or maybe a foursome, none of this all hanging around together in a gang. It just makes it harder to know what’s going on, to my mind. I mean, it isn’t natural for boys and girls to be friends like that, is it? They’re supposed to date and fall in love. You don’t marry someone you’re friendly with. But I suppose it was better for Zellah, in a way, because her father would only let her go out in a crowd, so she wouldn’t have met any boys at all otherwise.’
‘Did she see this boy more than once?’
‘No, Daddy forbade it. But she seemed to go off him anyway. She didn’t mention him ever again.’
If it was me , Connolly thought, I wouldn’t have mentioned him, even if I was seeing him . A girl had to learn to manipulate in order to get her way. Anyway, from what the doc said it was obvious that Miss Zellah had been getting the ride off some fella or other, whatever her parents thought. ‘Do you think you could find me that photograph now?’ she said. She would have a quick look round the bedroom while the oul’ one was getting it; see if there was a diary or any letters.
‘What a life,’ Atherton said, when they had given Slider their various accounts. ‘I wouldn’t blame her for cutting a rip with biker boy.’
‘It’s the devil when parents try to relive their lives through their children,’ Slider mused. ‘There’s father wanting her to be an academic success and probably end up with her own business, while mother just wants to relive her youth and beauty vicariously, and probably hopes her daughter will be a model and marry a film star. Impossible expectations.’
‘And what about being forbidden to go out with boys?’ Connolly said indignantly. ‘Janey Mac, she was seventeen .’
‘Right,’ Atherton said. ‘You can’t keep ’em down on the farm after they’ve seen Paree. What would you have done?’ he asked Connolly.
‘Pretend to go along with it and run mad behind their backs,’ Connolly answered. ‘If they want to carry on like Ignatius Loyola, what can they expect?’
‘Tyrants make liars,’ Atherton said.
‘Well, that’s one way to look at it,’ Slider said, from the point of view of a father. ‘But was that what Zellah was doing?’
‘She was out on the Scrubs late at night when she should have been somewhere else,’ Connolly pointed out.
‘We know she was rebelling,’ Atherton said, ‘because of what Freddie Cameron said about her having had a lot of sex. And I must say she must have had considerable moxie to defy her dad like that. I wouldn’t like to try it.’
‘Moxie?’ Slider queried vaguely, out of a train of thought.
‘Balls. Spunk. Chutzpah.’
‘I know what it means . I just don’t know why you’re using it.’
‘I’m a Red Sox fan.’
‘You are not.’ Slider shook his head. ‘Try to be duller,’ he advised.
‘I can’t help it. I spent my formative years at the pictures.’
Connolly suppressed a grin. This was why she wanted to get into the CID. They were all pure mad in the Department. ‘Sir,’ she said to Slider, ‘I’ve been thinking about the clothes she was wearing.’
‘Yes,
‘Reading’s a long way,’ Connolly said. ‘What was Mike Carmichael doing over this way?’
‘Well, he had this motorbike,’ Mrs Wilding said, drying her eyes again. ‘He could get about on that all right.’
‘What I meant was, how did Zellah come to meet him?’
‘Oh, I see. Well, he had some friends who shared a house in Notting Hill, and one of them was Chloë Paulson’s brother. That time he brought Zellah home, they’d all been out together, a whole crowd of boys and girls. You know how they do. It wasn’t that way when I was young,’ she added in a complaining voice. ‘You went out in couples, or maybe a foursome, none of this all hanging around together in a gang. It just makes it harder to know what’s going on, to my mind. I mean, it isn’t natural for boys and girls to be friends like that, is it? They’re supposed to date and fall in love. You don’t marry someone you’re friendly with. But I suppose it was better for Zellah, in a way, because her father would only let her go out in a crowd, so she wouldn’t have met any boys at all otherwise.’
‘Did she see this boy more than once?’
‘No, Daddy forbade it. But she seemed to go off him anyway. She didn’t mention him ever again.’
If it was me , Connolly thought, I wouldn’t have mentioned him, even if I was seeing him . A girl had to learn to manipulate in order to get her way. Anyway, from what the doc said it was obvious that Miss Zellah had been getting the ride off some fella or other, whatever her parents thought. ‘Do you think you could find me that photograph now?’ she said. She would have a quick look round the bedroom while the oul’ one was getting it; see if there was a diary or any letters.
‘What a life,’ Atherton said, when they had given Slider their various accounts. ‘I wouldn’t blame her for cutting a rip with biker boy.’
‘It’s the devil when parents try to relive their lives through their children,’ Slider mused. ‘There’s father wanting her to be an academic success and probably end up with her own business, while mother just wants to relive her youth and beauty vicariously, and probably hopes her daughter will be a model and marry a film star. Impossible expectations.’
‘And what about being forbidden to go out with boys?’ Connolly said indignantly. ‘Janey Mac, she was seventeen .’
‘Right,’ Atherton said. ‘You can’t keep ’em down on the farm after they’ve seen Paree. What would you have done?’ he asked Connolly.
‘Pretend to go along with it and run mad behind their backs,’ Connolly answered. ‘If they want to carry on like Ignatius Loyola, what can they expect?’
‘Tyrants make liars,’ Atherton said.
‘Well, that’s one way to look at it,’ Slider said, from the point of view of a father. ‘But was that what Zellah was doing?’
‘She was out on the Scrubs late at night when she should have been somewhere else,’ Connolly pointed out.
‘We know she was rebelling,’ Atherton said, ‘because of what Freddie Cameron said about her having had a lot of sex. And I must say she must have had considerable moxie to defy her dad like that. I wouldn’t like to try it.’
‘Moxie?’ Slider queried vaguely, out of a train of thought.
‘Balls. Spunk. Chutzpah.’
‘I know what it means . I just don’t know why you’re using it.’
‘I’m a Red Sox fan.’
‘You are not.’ Slider shook his head. ‘Try to be duller,’ he advised.
‘I can’t help it. I spent my formative years at the pictures.’
Connolly suppressed a grin. This was why she wanted to get into the CID. They were all pure mad in the Department. ‘Sir,’ she said to Slider, ‘I’ve been thinking about the clothes she was wearing.’
‘Yes,
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