and emphasised her point. ‘Just the
once inspector,’ pausing before continuing. ‘Actually I was supposed to be in
the painting class but the model didn’t turn up. I wouldn’t have done it
normally but because it was only for the painting class they said that nobody
else would see me. I couldn’t just strip off anywhere for anybody inspector.’
What a cheek! Fancy making such a suggestion. He didn’t have the tact or the
charm of his sergeant that was for sure.
‘Well the sergeant recognised you from the
picture, so no doubt others have as well.’
‘Yes, that sketch has been a problem.’
‘Doesn’t look like a problem to me miss, in
fact, it’s a lovely picture. I would go in and buy it myself but I don’t think
that my wife would approve when I got it home,’ he said with a grin.
‘No inspector, I don’t suppose she would. I
asked Mike to take it out of the window because we had blokes peering into the
tea shop and making rude gestures at me. That wasn’t the worst though. My
boyfriend went wild when he saw it.’
‘I would have thought that he would have been
pleased that others approved of his choice sufficiently to draw and paint her.’
‘No sergeant, he wasn’t. He saw the sketch when
he came to meet me after work and when he realised that it was me he almost
dragged me out of the shop.’
‘So what happened then? Did he shout at you?
Did he go and remonstrate in the art shop? Did he hurt you?’
The blush returned. Did that indicate something
or just more embarrassment?
‘Well, actually inspector, he did.’
‘Did what?’
‘What you said. I was serving a customer
outside and he shouted at me out there in the road. Showed me up something
shocking he did. Called me a little slut and said that he had heard all about
Mike Johnson’s after work exploits and that he would make him regret
propositioning his girlfriend.’ But I wasn’t propositioned and nothing went on
– well, not that sort of thing anyway. It was awful. Everyone was looking
at us and he dragged me up the street. He said I was not to come back and that
he would make sure that I didn’t strip off for Mike again. He called him a
bloody pervert. But he isn’t. He isn’t inspector – it’s just art.’
‘I suppose that he was surprised and his anger
got the better of him love. Has he got over it now?’
‘My name is Helen inspector, not Love. And I
don’t know whether Jack has got over it. I don’t care either.’
‘Meaning, Helen?’
……….
‘This isn’t up to the tea they serve at the
Windsor, Kyle,’ said the inspector, ‘this tastes like you got the tea bags from
the pound shop.’
‘I did actually. You complained so often about
being asked for your contribution that we looked for a cheaper brand.’
‘And the WPC isn’t up to the standards of Helen
Weston either, although since we’ve not seen her without her clothes on,
perhaps I am making an unfair comparison,’ adding with a wink, ‘or do you know
something that I don’t Kyle?’
Joking apart, the session in the tea shop had
thrown up more than Radcliffe had expected. Hoping to find out just a little
about the evening art classes at The Palette, they had in actual fact come away
with a possible suspect for Johnson’s attack who had both motive and
opportunity. The boyfriend lived near Johnson, knew him by sight and bore a
grudge. When they had tracked him down he had reacted instantly to the name of
Mike Johnson, calling him a pervert and claiming that he had drawn vulnerable
women into his web, luring them with art classes then leading them through
modelling for the classes to modelling just for him – and then on to
sexual exploits. Wasn’t that what the artist had tried with Helen until he had
been stopped in his tracks?
Challenged as to whether he had spoken to
Johnson or argued with him, the lad had become tongue-tied. He had said that he
had dragged Helen away and told her not to go to any more art
once inspector,’ pausing before continuing. ‘Actually I was supposed to be in
the painting class but the model didn’t turn up. I wouldn’t have done it
normally but because it was only for the painting class they said that nobody
else would see me. I couldn’t just strip off anywhere for anybody inspector.’
What a cheek! Fancy making such a suggestion. He didn’t have the tact or the
charm of his sergeant that was for sure.
‘Well the sergeant recognised you from the
picture, so no doubt others have as well.’
‘Yes, that sketch has been a problem.’
‘Doesn’t look like a problem to me miss, in
fact, it’s a lovely picture. I would go in and buy it myself but I don’t think
that my wife would approve when I got it home,’ he said with a grin.
‘No inspector, I don’t suppose she would. I
asked Mike to take it out of the window because we had blokes peering into the
tea shop and making rude gestures at me. That wasn’t the worst though. My
boyfriend went wild when he saw it.’
‘I would have thought that he would have been
pleased that others approved of his choice sufficiently to draw and paint her.’
‘No sergeant, he wasn’t. He saw the sketch when
he came to meet me after work and when he realised that it was me he almost
dragged me out of the shop.’
‘So what happened then? Did he shout at you?
Did he go and remonstrate in the art shop? Did he hurt you?’
The blush returned. Did that indicate something
or just more embarrassment?
‘Well, actually inspector, he did.’
‘Did what?’
‘What you said. I was serving a customer
outside and he shouted at me out there in the road. Showed me up something
shocking he did. Called me a little slut and said that he had heard all about
Mike Johnson’s after work exploits and that he would make him regret
propositioning his girlfriend.’ But I wasn’t propositioned and nothing went on
– well, not that sort of thing anyway. It was awful. Everyone was looking
at us and he dragged me up the street. He said I was not to come back and that
he would make sure that I didn’t strip off for Mike again. He called him a
bloody pervert. But he isn’t. He isn’t inspector – it’s just art.’
‘I suppose that he was surprised and his anger
got the better of him love. Has he got over it now?’
‘My name is Helen inspector, not Love. And I
don’t know whether Jack has got over it. I don’t care either.’
‘Meaning, Helen?’
……….
‘This isn’t up to the tea they serve at the
Windsor, Kyle,’ said the inspector, ‘this tastes like you got the tea bags from
the pound shop.’
‘I did actually. You complained so often about
being asked for your contribution that we looked for a cheaper brand.’
‘And the WPC isn’t up to the standards of Helen
Weston either, although since we’ve not seen her without her clothes on,
perhaps I am making an unfair comparison,’ adding with a wink, ‘or do you know
something that I don’t Kyle?’
Joking apart, the session in the tea shop had
thrown up more than Radcliffe had expected. Hoping to find out just a little
about the evening art classes at The Palette, they had in actual fact come away
with a possible suspect for Johnson’s attack who had both motive and
opportunity. The boyfriend lived near Johnson, knew him by sight and bore a
grudge. When they had tracked him down he had reacted instantly to the name of
Mike Johnson, calling him a pervert and claiming that he had drawn vulnerable
women into his web, luring them with art classes then leading them through
modelling for the classes to modelling just for him – and then on to
sexual exploits. Wasn’t that what the artist had tried with Helen until he had
been stopped in his tracks?
Challenged as to whether he had spoken to
Johnson or argued with him, the lad had become tongue-tied. He had said that he
had dragged Helen away and told her not to go to any more art
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