The Slaughterhouse by G R Jordan

Author:G R Jordan [G R Jordan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: G R Jordan
Published: 2024-07-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

A little green sports car drove over the Severn Bridge, then raced along the south of Wales, heading for Tenby. Sophie Sallerson had been the star of the film. Only a teenager then, now, some sixty years on, she was just touching her eighties. Clarissa wondered what she would find.

All the reports she’d read recently around the actress said she was more of a recluse than a showbiz star. Indeed, it had been hard to find her address, because she’d been keeping it from the public. Clarissa had to use her rank, saying who she was, when she spoke to the woman’s agent to get an address just outside of Tenby.

The Welsh coast was today in glorious sunshine, as the wind blew through her hair crossing the Severn Bridge, the water vanishing quickly down below. Patterson seemed relaxed too, embracing the wind. She wondered if Pats was becoming far too used to it.

Previously, he’d sat almost in abject terror, hanging on for his life. Of course he said nothing. Pats didn’t. But now, still wearing the large cravat that covered the cut on his neck, he almost seemed at peace in the car. Clarissa was worried that her driving had slowed down. Nobody sat at peace in this car.

‘How much further?’ asked Patterson.

‘Something like thirty or fifty miles.’

Patterson sat back in the car. ‘And so, she’s going to be, what, in her seventies?’

‘Yes,’ said Clarissa. ‘She did little later on in life, but she was an active actress for a good while. The part got her notoriety, but, well, it was different. Not the best way to be known. Especially back then when things were more wholesome, at least on the surface.’

Eventually, they pulled up in front of a modest but quaint house on the cliffs near Tenby. The view was stunning out into the Bristol Channel, and the sun shone down reflecting on the sea. There was a light wind blowing, and Clarissa, although always desperate for the Highlands, could see why someone would retire here. It was remote enough. Tenby was nearby, but there was a seclusion with it.

She parked up the little sports car, climbed out, and was about to make her way to the door when it opened. A woman dressed in bright green trousers and an orange top almost skipped across, belying her age.

‘Now that’s delightful,’ said the woman. ‘Look at it. You must take me for a spin.’

‘Well, if I’ve time,’ said Clarissa. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Clarissa Urquhart. This is Detective Constable Patterson. We’re here to talk to you about the Slaughterhouse film,’

‘Of course, of course,’ said the woman, but she was over at the car looking inside of it. ‘Stunning, absolutely stunning.’ She turned to Patterson. ‘I bet you love coming out in this car.’

Patterson stood almost motionless. ‘It’s an experience,’ he said; ‘undeniably, an experience.’

Clarissa nearly collapsed with laughter. Patterson was really coming into his own, with a fantastically dry sense of humour.

‘Could we, Sophie, pop inside,’ said Clarissa. ‘I’d really like to talk to you about your time on the Slaughterhouse film.

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