A Cornish Killing by David W Robinson

Author:David W Robinson [Robinson, David W]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: darkstroke books
Published: 2019-09-02T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

When Stewart Dalmer stepped out of the bedroom and into the kitchen at nine o’clock the following morning, Joe was chewing his way through a bowl of cereal.

Dalmer appeared embarrassed. “Oh. Good, er, good morning, Joe.”

Joe made an effort to be friendly. “Morning, Stewart. I saw your jacket hanging on the door, and tried to keep the noise down when I came in last night.”

It was an edited version of the truth.

At her insistence, he left Eleanor just before one in the morning.

“Discretion, Joe. It would be brilliant to have you spend the night here, but I can’t afford for anyone to see a guest leaving my van in the morning.” She had smiled coyly at him. “But if you want to knock on the door after lights out tomorrow…”

She had left the suggestion in the air, and Joe came away a happy, satisfied man, moreover, one who had satisfied a demanding woman, with the promise of more to come in twenty-four hours.

When he got back at his own caravan, he picked up the sound of bedroom activity as he opened the door, and it was noticeable that the van was rocking slightly on its rear suspension. After his own lascivious exertions, he could hardly frown upon Brenda’s activities, so he pottered quietly around the sink, making a cup of tea, and crept into his bedroom, waiting for the bumps, moans and groans coming from the next bedroom, to subside.

The caravan was designed so that Brenda had a toilet in her room, so he was not disturbed by either her or Dalmer attending to their post-coital ablutions. And he knew it was Dalmer. He really had spotted the brown leather windjammer hanging behind the door when he first came in.

Notwithstanding the time he went to bed, Joe’s inbuilt alarm clock woke him at half past six. He nodded off again, but finally rose at half past seven, washed and shaved, dressed, and stepped outside for the first cigarette of the day while watching the growing daylight.

There was no sign of cloud in the sky, and it did not take long for the chill to nip at his arms. The lights were on in the Staineses van next door, but there was no sign of Alec, so without any further distraction, after smoking a cigarette, he went back into the van, and switched on the gas heater.

He passed an hour updating his journal with the events of the previous day, including non-salacious references to the evening and later hours spent with Eleanor. His primary concern now was the murder of Wynette Kalinowski, and he made a mental note to chase up Sergeant O’Neill before the day was out. Beyond that, the 3rd Age Club had no plans (although they were scheduled to visit Penzance on the Wednesday) and as far as Joe was concerned, there was nothing on the horizon other than pottering about on the park, or maybe going down into Hayle for the day.

Dalmer switched on the kettle and reached up into an overhead cupboard for a cup.

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