last night: did you notice what time Mr Andrews left work?’
‘Just after six,’ she said promptly. ‘We were watching the six o’clock news when the lorry started up. The engine makes a dreadful noise – and the tyres crunching over that gravel. We could hardly hear what was being said.’
‘I suppose it went past your window?’
‘No, he went the other way.’
‘And did you hear him arrive this morning?’
‘We certainly did!’ Mrs Bright said, with tight annoyance.
‘Well, people have to work,’ Mr Bright said, making all possible allowances.
‘But not at that time of the morning. It’s inconsiderate to be making noise at half past six in the morning—’
‘It was a quarter to seven, dear,’ said Mr Bright. ‘I looked at the clock,’ he added to Swilley.
‘It’s still much too early,’ his wife said, annoyed at being corrected. ‘Half past eight is quite early enough; a quarter to seven is beyond reason. I said to Desmond, “I suppose we’ll have the cement mixer starting up next, and have to close the windows.” People shouldn’t have noisy jobs done in the summer when people have their windows open.’
‘So you heard the truck arrive and pull onto the gravel? What else?’
Mrs Bright considered. ‘Well, I thought I heard someone shout, and then some voices talking – I suppose that was Frances and Mr Andrews – and then nothing until the police arrived and all the fuss started.’
‘You didn’t look out of the window when you heard the shout?’
‘No. It wasn’t loud. More a sort of – exclamation.’
‘I didn’t hear it,’ Mr Bright said.
‘In any case, you can’t see the terrace from any of our windows because of the hedge.’
‘That’s why it’s there,’ he pointed out.
‘And what about during the night?’ Swilley asked. ‘Were you woken by any disturbance?’
‘No, not that I remember,’ Mrs Bright said. ‘Why? Did something happen?’
Mr Bright, surprisingly, proved more on the ball than his wife. ‘Well, dear, poor Mrs Andrews must have been put into the hole during the night, or someone would have seen.’
‘Oh,’ she said, evidently not following.
‘Under cover of darkness,’ he elaborated. ‘If Frances found her there before Mr Andrews arrived—’
‘Oh. I suppose so.’
‘But you didn’t hear anything during the night?’ Norma pressed.
‘No,’ she said, with a world of regret. ‘Did you, Desmond?’
‘Nothing,’ he said, shaking his head.
‘Do you sleep with the windows open?’
‘Always,’ he said.
‘That was why we heard the lorry arrive in the morning,’ she said. ‘I’m sure if he’d driven up in the night and stopped outside we’d have heard. It’s very quiet round here at night.’
Swilley extracted herself with difficulty, and went to try theneighbour on the other side of the Old Rectory, but knocking and ringing elicited no reply, and the place had a shut-up, empty look. Out at work or away? she wondered. They would have to try again later. She saw Mackay emerge from three doors down and called out to him. ‘Hoi, Andy!’ He turned. ‘Have you done this one?’
‘No-one in,’ he called back. ‘I’ve done the next two. I’ll do the rest of this row if you like.’
‘Okay, I’ll start at the corner, then,’ she said, and trudged off. Breakfast seemed a distant dream. If the next house was decent, she decided, she’d accept a cup of coffee. With a bit of luck they might break out the biccies, too.
Atherton came back with the keen-eyed look of a police dog entering a vagrants’ hostel. ‘Open and shut case,’ he said.
‘Oh, really?’ said Slider, leaning on the car roof and addressing him across it. It was going to be another hot day. The earth smelt warm and the sunshine on the pale stones of the churchyard wall made them hard to look at.
Atherton leaned too. ‘Andrews says he went home from work last night, watched telly and went to bed. His wife was out at work so he was all
‘Just after six,’ she said promptly. ‘We were watching the six o’clock news when the lorry started up. The engine makes a dreadful noise – and the tyres crunching over that gravel. We could hardly hear what was being said.’
‘I suppose it went past your window?’
‘No, he went the other way.’
‘And did you hear him arrive this morning?’
‘We certainly did!’ Mrs Bright said, with tight annoyance.
‘Well, people have to work,’ Mr Bright said, making all possible allowances.
‘But not at that time of the morning. It’s inconsiderate to be making noise at half past six in the morning—’
‘It was a quarter to seven, dear,’ said Mr Bright. ‘I looked at the clock,’ he added to Swilley.
‘It’s still much too early,’ his wife said, annoyed at being corrected. ‘Half past eight is quite early enough; a quarter to seven is beyond reason. I said to Desmond, “I suppose we’ll have the cement mixer starting up next, and have to close the windows.” People shouldn’t have noisy jobs done in the summer when people have their windows open.’
‘So you heard the truck arrive and pull onto the gravel? What else?’
Mrs Bright considered. ‘Well, I thought I heard someone shout, and then some voices talking – I suppose that was Frances and Mr Andrews – and then nothing until the police arrived and all the fuss started.’
‘You didn’t look out of the window when you heard the shout?’
‘No. It wasn’t loud. More a sort of – exclamation.’
‘I didn’t hear it,’ Mr Bright said.
‘In any case, you can’t see the terrace from any of our windows because of the hedge.’
‘That’s why it’s there,’ he pointed out.
‘And what about during the night?’ Swilley asked. ‘Were you woken by any disturbance?’
‘No, not that I remember,’ Mrs Bright said. ‘Why? Did something happen?’
Mr Bright, surprisingly, proved more on the ball than his wife. ‘Well, dear, poor Mrs Andrews must have been put into the hole during the night, or someone would have seen.’
‘Oh,’ she said, evidently not following.
‘Under cover of darkness,’ he elaborated. ‘If Frances found her there before Mr Andrews arrived—’
‘Oh. I suppose so.’
‘But you didn’t hear anything during the night?’ Norma pressed.
‘No,’ she said, with a world of regret. ‘Did you, Desmond?’
‘Nothing,’ he said, shaking his head.
‘Do you sleep with the windows open?’
‘Always,’ he said.
‘That was why we heard the lorry arrive in the morning,’ she said. ‘I’m sure if he’d driven up in the night and stopped outside we’d have heard. It’s very quiet round here at night.’
Swilley extracted herself with difficulty, and went to try theneighbour on the other side of the Old Rectory, but knocking and ringing elicited no reply, and the place had a shut-up, empty look. Out at work or away? she wondered. They would have to try again later. She saw Mackay emerge from three doors down and called out to him. ‘Hoi, Andy!’ He turned. ‘Have you done this one?’
‘No-one in,’ he called back. ‘I’ve done the next two. I’ll do the rest of this row if you like.’
‘Okay, I’ll start at the corner, then,’ she said, and trudged off. Breakfast seemed a distant dream. If the next house was decent, she decided, she’d accept a cup of coffee. With a bit of luck they might break out the biccies, too.
Atherton came back with the keen-eyed look of a police dog entering a vagrants’ hostel. ‘Open and shut case,’ he said.
‘Oh, really?’ said Slider, leaning on the car roof and addressing him across it. It was going to be another hot day. The earth smelt warm and the sunshine on the pale stones of the churchyard wall made them hard to look at.
Atherton leaned too. ‘Andrews says he went home from work last night, watched telly and went to bed. His wife was out at work so he was all
Similar Books
