The Lochside Murder: A Dorset Crime Story by Rachel McLean

Author:Rachel McLean [McLean, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B0BYX98J4K
Goodreads: 123510470
Publisher: Ackroyd Publishing
Published: 2023-03-23T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Thanks, pal.” Petra climbed out of the squad car. The young constable who’d driven her up had certainly known how to drive fast. And Petra didn’t have so much as a hair out of place.

She paused outside the car, peering back into the passenger window to check her reflection. Her updo was intact, secured by half a can of hairspray as usual. She dabbed at her lipstick and rubbed her lips together.

You’ll do.

And besides, this family had just lost their daughter. They wouldn’t give two figs what she looked like.

She walked up the footpath, her heels catching in the gravel, and rang the doorbell. A uniformed sergeant answered the door.

“I’m Dr McBride,” she said. “DI Tanner asked me to—”

“It’s fine,” the woman replied “DS Uddin said to expect you. Come in.”

The sergeant led Petra though to a dining room at the back of the house. Mo sat at the table, a laptop open in front of him. So they’d set up shop here, in the victim’s home. The family wouldn’t have been happy about that.

Did it mean they suspected a family member, were expecting a quick arrest?

She wasn’t about to ask. Knowing what the police were thinking would jeopardise her impartiality.

She put a hand out as Mo stood up from his chair.

“DS Uddin,” she said. “Good to see you again.”

“If only it could be in more pleasant circumstances.”

“True. But it never will be, will it?” Petra took a chair opposite him and brought out a notepad. “I don’t want to trouble these people any longer than I have to. Tell me what you know about them. But don’t give me your theories. Not yet.”

Mo closed his mouth, glanced at the sergeant, then nodded. “OK,” he said, his voice low. “Our victim is Helen Williamson.” He pushed a photograph across the table. “Her body was found under a jetty on Loch Lomond early this morning, by a DCI from the Dorset force who’s here on holiday.”

“Lesley.” Petra raised an eyebrow. “Quite a coincidence.”

“Sorry, I forgot you two know each other.”

“I worked on a couple of her Dorset cases. Not just your Digbeth Ripper one.”

“It wasn’t the Dig—”

She waved a hand. “That doesn’t matter now. Keep going.”

“Helen’s face was cut up, so badly she’s unrecognisable. But we found a letter in her pocket, handwritten, from someone called Rob. The mother tells us that’s probably Rob Cowie, her boyfriend.”

“OK. He here?”

“No.”

“He around? Can I see the letter?”

“You can.” Mo passed another sheet of paper across the table, a copy of a handwritten note. Petra peered at it then back at him.

“Have the family seen this?”

“We didn’t think that would be a good idea until we’d spoken to the boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend. Judging by this letter.”

Mo tightened his lips. “Yes.”

“OK,” Petra said. “So he sent her a letter dumping her, which she had in her pocket. That either means it’s recent, or she wanted to keep the letter close for some reason. I don’t suppose you’ve…?”

“We were waiting for you to get here.”

“OK. Well I can’t ask questions, you know that.

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