door-to-door, it’s within a mile radius. The usual thing. Every male from fourteen to sixty-five will be interviewed - their make of car checked, where they work, where they were between six thirty p.m. and seven a.m. Oh, and before I forget, I’ve made DS Dawkins the office manager. She’s good.’
Superintendent Ratchette raised a bushy grey eyebrow. ‘I bet that went down well, didn’t it?’
‘Not really.’ Kate laughed ruefully. ‘Two women on a big case. Makes male CID eyes red just thinking about it!’
Ratchette laughed out loud. He liked Kate Burrows.
‘Well, whatever you think, Kate, it’s your case. If you could just keep me informed of any developments, as and when they occur?’
‘Of course, sir. But I don’t like the feel of this one. Geraldine O’Leary worked at Rudys wine bar, but from what I can gather she was not a woman who encouraged men, although she was good-looking and would obviously attract them. We’re checking out all the customers anyway. Most are local men. Her husband was babysitting last night and a woman called Conroy called around at seven-thirty to collect an Avon order and stayed chatting till gone eight when Geraldine O’Leary’s mother came round to drop off some Christmas presents. There’s no way it’s the husband. His alibi is watertight.’
Ratchette nodded at her.
‘Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you.’
Kate stifled a yawn. It had been a long day and it still wasn’t over.
‘I have a feeling this is going to be a tough one, sir, a very tough one.’
George walked into his house and was grateful for the warmth of the central heating. He was freezing. Under his arm he had the local paper. He could hear Elaine clattering around as she cooked. Taking off his overcoat, he hung it up in the hall cupboard and silently entered the kitchen.
Elaine turned from the sink and jumped.
‘Oh, George! You gave me a start. I didn’t hear you come in!’
She waved her hand in front of her face as if cooling herself down.
He smiled.
‘Sorry, dear.’ He sat at the table and looked at the paper. He smiled wider. Across the front page in large black letters was one word: MURDER.
Settling himself into his chair, George began to read. This morning the body of a woman had been found in Grantley Woods. She had been raped and murdered . . . He felt the familiar excitement flow through his veins. The victim was a Mrs Geraldine O’Leary, a thirty-two-year-old mother of three.
The poor children! The poor, poor children. Shaking his head, he began to read again.
Elaine placed a cup of tea by his hand and he looked up at her.
‘Isn’t it terrible, George? That poor woman. Those poor little children losing their mother like that, and just before Christmas as well.’ George was surprised at the emotion in Elaine’s voice.
‘It’s all we’ve talked about at work. I mean, no woman’s safe, is she?’
George tutted and shook his head. ‘You be careful, Elaine.’ He pointed a finger at her. ‘Promise me you’ll get a taxi home from work? I don’t want you standing at bus stops in the dark.’
She stared at her husband and then smiled.
‘Oh, George! You old silly.’
Despite herself Elaine felt an enormous surge of pleasure at his concern. Getting taxis home from work! Well, she would, because as George said it wasn’t safe for her to be standing at bus stops in the dark.
She started to dish up the dinner.
Later in the evening, the sex murder was reported on Thames News. Elaine shook her head sadly. But George smiled. His secret smile that just showed his teeth.
Kate finally arrived home at eleven fifteen. She pulled into her drive and decided that she just couldn’t be bothered to park the car in the garage. She was too tired. Getting out of the car she locked it, stifling a large yawn.
The front door was opened as she approached it and a woman of indeterminate age practically pulled her into the hallway.
‘Get yourself in now,
Superintendent Ratchette raised a bushy grey eyebrow. ‘I bet that went down well, didn’t it?’
‘Not really.’ Kate laughed ruefully. ‘Two women on a big case. Makes male CID eyes red just thinking about it!’
Ratchette laughed out loud. He liked Kate Burrows.
‘Well, whatever you think, Kate, it’s your case. If you could just keep me informed of any developments, as and when they occur?’
‘Of course, sir. But I don’t like the feel of this one. Geraldine O’Leary worked at Rudys wine bar, but from what I can gather she was not a woman who encouraged men, although she was good-looking and would obviously attract them. We’re checking out all the customers anyway. Most are local men. Her husband was babysitting last night and a woman called Conroy called around at seven-thirty to collect an Avon order and stayed chatting till gone eight when Geraldine O’Leary’s mother came round to drop off some Christmas presents. There’s no way it’s the husband. His alibi is watertight.’
Ratchette nodded at her.
‘Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you.’
Kate stifled a yawn. It had been a long day and it still wasn’t over.
‘I have a feeling this is going to be a tough one, sir, a very tough one.’
George walked into his house and was grateful for the warmth of the central heating. He was freezing. Under his arm he had the local paper. He could hear Elaine clattering around as she cooked. Taking off his overcoat, he hung it up in the hall cupboard and silently entered the kitchen.
Elaine turned from the sink and jumped.
‘Oh, George! You gave me a start. I didn’t hear you come in!’
She waved her hand in front of her face as if cooling herself down.
He smiled.
‘Sorry, dear.’ He sat at the table and looked at the paper. He smiled wider. Across the front page in large black letters was one word: MURDER.
Settling himself into his chair, George began to read. This morning the body of a woman had been found in Grantley Woods. She had been raped and murdered . . . He felt the familiar excitement flow through his veins. The victim was a Mrs Geraldine O’Leary, a thirty-two-year-old mother of three.
The poor children! The poor, poor children. Shaking his head, he began to read again.
Elaine placed a cup of tea by his hand and he looked up at her.
‘Isn’t it terrible, George? That poor woman. Those poor little children losing their mother like that, and just before Christmas as well.’ George was surprised at the emotion in Elaine’s voice.
‘It’s all we’ve talked about at work. I mean, no woman’s safe, is she?’
George tutted and shook his head. ‘You be careful, Elaine.’ He pointed a finger at her. ‘Promise me you’ll get a taxi home from work? I don’t want you standing at bus stops in the dark.’
She stared at her husband and then smiled.
‘Oh, George! You old silly.’
Despite herself Elaine felt an enormous surge of pleasure at his concern. Getting taxis home from work! Well, she would, because as George said it wasn’t safe for her to be standing at bus stops in the dark.
She started to dish up the dinner.
Later in the evening, the sex murder was reported on Thames News. Elaine shook her head sadly. But George smiled. His secret smile that just showed his teeth.
Kate finally arrived home at eleven fifteen. She pulled into her drive and decided that she just couldn’t be bothered to park the car in the garage. She was too tired. Getting out of the car she locked it, stifling a large yawn.
The front door was opened as she approached it and a woman of indeterminate age practically pulled her into the hallway.
‘Get yourself in now,
Similar Books
