A Velvet Scream by Priscilla Masters

Author:Priscilla Masters [Masters, Priscilla]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Severn House Publishers Ltd
Published: 2011-09-30T14:00:00+00:00

TWELVE

Sunday, 5 December. 2 p.m.

Clara was frightened. She was putting a brave face on it but it wasn’t hard to read the girl’s fear as she faced Joanna Piercy. To Joanna she simply looked young and vulnerable. And presumably her friend, Molly, stripped of her fashionable and seductive clothes and make-up would look very much the same. Joanna had tried to put Clara at ease but it was proving hard work. ‘Were there any other friends of yours at Patches on Friday night? Could Molly have gone home with another friend?’

Clara shook her head and explained. ‘Molly and I go to school in Newcastle-under-Lyme,’ she said. ‘There aren’t many girls our age and from Leek at Newcastle.’ She gave a hint of a smile. ‘That’s why Mol and I got so close.’

The girl was well spoken, articulate and, in the circumstances, quite self-possessed. Joanna tried the next question conversationally. ‘Did you know many people who went to Patches?’

It sparked something in Clara. She looked worried and guilty. And her parents noticed too. Rosa Williams stood up quickly. ‘Would you like a cup of tea, Inspector?’ She turned to Hesketh-Brown. ‘Constable?’

‘No, thank you.’ The distraction hadn’t worked. Joanna repeated the question. ‘So do you?’

Clara gave another swift glance at her parents. ‘A few,’ she said. ‘Not many.’

Joanna sensed something. ‘Clara; did you and Molly have a row on Friday night?’

Clara shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. ‘No,’ she said simply.

‘Were you there on Tuesday night, the first of December, the night that Kayleigh Harrison was assaulted?’

Again the girl looked worried; her parents enquiring, but saying nothing.

Clara dropped her head and nodded slowly, then looked at her parents, ‘Sorry, Mum; sorry, Dad.’

They merely nodded and gave her the look every teenager can translate into, We’ll talk about this later.

‘Did you know Kayleigh?’

Clara looked at them; frowned.

‘She was wearing a silver miniskirt that night,’ Hesketh-Brown put in helpfully. ‘You might have noticed that.’

Clara blinked and thought for a moment; her frown deepening and then she nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I do remember someone dressed like that but I don’t know her.’

Joanna leaned forward. ‘Think,’ she said. ‘Can you remember anything about her? Who she was dancing with; who she was talking to. Did you see the same person talking to Molly?’

‘She was assaulted and just left in the snow to freeze?’ Her tone was shocked; disbelieving that anyone could treat a young woman like that.

Joanna nodded.

‘When I saw her she was sitting at the bar, talking to a man,’ Clara said slowly.

Joanna waited.

Clara had guileless baby-blue eyes. It was difficult to imagine that she would ever tell anything but the truth. She fixed these truthful eyes on Hesketh-Brown. ‘He was tall and skinny,’ she said, ‘wearing a plain shirt, no tie. That’s all I remember. Oh, jeans, I think.’

‘What sort of age was he?’

She took in a deep breath. ‘Not young,’ she said, ‘that’s for sure. He was no eye-popper so I didn’t really take a lot of notice.’ Her confidence told Joanna that she was on safer ground here.

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