Ramsay 04 - Killjoy by Ann Cleeves

Author:Ann Cleeves
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery, Cozy, British Detectives, Thriller & Suspense, Teen & Young Adult, Crime Fiction, Police Procedurals, Literature & Fiction
Publisher: Bello
Published: 2013-08-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

At midday Ramsay left St Martin’s Close and drove back to Hallowgate to report to the chief superintendent. The Close was filled with police vehicles and he made a mental note that when the case was over he should write to all the residents to thank them for their forbearance.

In his office the superintendent listened carefully to what Ramsay had to tell him. On the wall above his head was a watercolour of St Mary’s Island which he had painted himself. From the window was a view of the mouth of the river.

‘Not a coincidence then,’ he said, ‘if the girl’s things were found in the Woods’ garden.’

‘Definitely not a coincidence,’ Ramsay said, ‘ but nothing to connect the women yet either, except the Grace Darling Centre.’

‘You think Gabriella Paston was murdered in Martin’s Dene too?’

‘That seems the most obvious explanation. She’d told her friends she was going there. Her bag was found at the end of the garden. It could have been thrown over the wall from the common.’ Ramsay paused. ‘I think the focus of the investigation will have to shift to Martin’s Dene,’ he said. ‘ We’ll need to make that point clearly at the press conference. Presumably Gabby Paston got there by public transport. Someone must have seen her. And she was quite a striking figure. We’ll need a house-to-house in the village. I’m having photos printed now. ‘ Then we’ll need everyone who was out on the hill yesterday evening to come forward.’

‘Any other lines of enquiry?’

‘Someone was paying regularly into the girl’s building society account. It could have been her family of course. I’ll check that. If not it would be interesting to know who was giving her the money.’

‘You think it could have been payment for services rendered?’

Ramsay shrugged. ‘It’s possible. She was an attractive girl. And she seems not to have sustained any lasting relationships with lads of her own age. She’d not be the first drama student to sleep her way through college.’

‘Where does Mrs Wood come into it?’

‘At this stage,’ Ramsay said, ‘I haven’t a clue.’

‘You don’t see Dennis Wood as Miss Paston’s mysterious benefactor?’

‘It’s a neat explanation,’ Ramsay said. ‘But no. I don’t think Dennis Wood’s a murderer.’

There was a moment’s silence while the superintendent leaned forward, his arms on his desk.

‘I’d be grateful to get this cleared up quickly,’ he said, awkwardly.

‘Of course.’ Ramsay was surprised. He had not expected to be put under pressure.

‘There should be no difference in our response to a teenage lad stabbed to death in a pub brawl on the Starling Farm estate as to a magistrate strangled in Martin’s Dene.’ The superintendent was speaking almost to himself but looked up to check that Ramsay understood what he was saying. ‘ Morally there’s no difference at all. But practically…’ He smiled wryly. ‘ Practically there’s all the difference in the world. The respectable citizens of Martin’s Dene will be affronted by an outrage on their doorstep. They’ll take it personally. When you spend that much on a house you expect to be insulated from the nasty realities of the outside world.

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