Fell Purpose by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles Page A

I’ve been wondering about that too,’ Slider said. ‘I wouldn’t have thought her parents – her father, anyway – would have let her go out showing that much flesh.’
    ‘No, sir. That’s what I thought. And I had a good oul’ look in her wardrobe while I was in her bedroom, and there’s nothing else like that in there. It’s all Sunday School stuff, skirts and ganzies your mammy would buy you. I’m wondering if she borrowed those clothes from her friend.’
    ‘Sophy Whatsit? It’s a thought. And if she did, then Sophy must have been in on the whole thing,’ Slider said. ‘Which would mean she’d know who it was Zellah was seeing that night.’
    ‘It’s obvious the Sophy thing was a front,’ Atherton said. ‘Either for some kind of group outing to a place the Wildings wouldn’t approve of, or for Zellah to go out with a person ditto ditto.’
    ‘That Mike Carmichael sounds the lad,’ Connolly said. ‘The Woodley South’s a total kip. Drugs, stolen cars, smuggled fags and booze. Unemployment about ninety-eight per cent. What’s a skanger from a place like that doing, hanging around the likes of Zellah Wilding?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Slider. ‘I do wonder what the connection with the smart girls is. How did he know Sophy Whatsit’s brother and his friends?’
    ‘Oh, I think we can all guess that,’ Atherton said wryly. ‘What do larging-it youngsters do with their money these days?’
    ‘We can all guess,’ Slider said, ‘but I’d prefer to know.’
    ‘I take it an early interview with biker boy is a priority,’ Atherton said. ‘The hood from the ’hood.’
    ‘First of all,’ Slider went on, ‘we need to speak to this Sophy girl. She may be the one person who knows where Zellah was going and with whom.’
    ‘Do you want me to do it?’ Atherton said.
    ‘No, I’ll go myself,’ Slider said, stretching his shoulders. ‘I need to move. I’ll take Hart with me. They’ll think she’s cool.’
    ‘ I’m cool,’ Atherton protested. Connolly made a snorting noise, and he turned on her sharply to find her face rigidly controlled. ‘What?’
    ‘Nothing, sir,’ she said.
    ‘I think PC Connolly thinks you’re more hip than cool,’ Slider explained kindly. ‘Anyway, you two have got your notes to write up. Get the photograph copied and circulated. Oh, and you’d better arrange for the Wildings to identify the body. Get them to come in, and take their statements down, such as they are.’
    ‘We can send someone there for that,’ Atherton said.
    ‘It’ll do them good to get out of the house,’ Slider said, and Connolly gave him a pleased look for having thought of it. ‘What did you think of the father?’
    ‘Obsessive,’ Atherton said. ‘Transferred all his love to his little princess when he realized he’d married a pudding.’
    ‘Right,’ said Slider. ‘On the principle that it’s always the person nearest what dunnit, get him to write down where he was and what he was doing.’
    ‘That poor man?’ Connolly protested. ‘He was heartbroken!’
    ‘For elimination purposes,’ Slider said. ‘Always bread and butter first, before you can have any cake.’
    Mad as bicycles , Connolly thought admiringly.

FOUR
    Bedlam Sans Mercy
    ‘ S o, what’s the griff with this one, guv?’ Hart asked, deeply gratified to have been chosen to accompany the boss. She glanced sideways at his profile as he drove. He still gave her a flutter, though she accepted he was off limits now. She liked older men, and there was just something about him . . . Sexy, she thought with an inward, wistful sigh. Definitely a hottie.
    ‘That’s what we’re going to find out,’ he said.
    ‘No, but I mean did she go putting herself about to get one over her dad, and get picked up by a low-life, raped and murdered?’
    ‘She wasn’t raped.’
    ‘Oh, yeah, I was forgetting.’ She frowned. ‘Well, how does that work, then?’
    ‘It complicates things,’ Slider admitted.
    ‘Why strangle the