Three Little Maids

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Three Little Maids Page 9

by Patricia Scott


  ‘Gwynith. Some refreshments, please?’

  Aiden Ludlam, with his leonine head of thick fair hair, and strong handsome features had a striking presence there was no doubt about that. Kent imagined that he must magnetise his captive audience in the chapel with the cadences of his rich voice. It was like looking at a negative film seeing the husband and wife together. You only saw Ludlam. Gwynith Ludlam faded into the background.

  ‘Tea, Inspector? With lemon or milk? Or coffee? Sergeant Turner?’

  ‘I would welcome a cup of tea, with milk and two sugars please. The same for you, Turner?’ Turner nodded. ‘Thank you, Mrs Ludlam. For the moment, sir, the deaths of the two girls are our priority.’

  Aiden nodded. ‘We are all in a state of shock over Maureen Carey’s death. And now there has been this other one. And we ask ourselves are our Police officers being used in full strength. Is it possible for them to find and interview anyone amongst the holidaymakers who might have met or seen either of the girls? It is a difficult task to cover such a wide field of suspects.’

  ‘We’re doing our best, sir. I understand that the French girl, Yvette worked behind the bar in the Nag’s Head public house and she would have been noticed by quite a few locals and holidaymakers.’

  The refreshment was brought in. ‘Thank you, Mrs Ludlam.’ Kent took his cup from the tray and stirred the sugar into his tea. ‘Some are only day trippers unfortunately.’

  ‘This bad publicity it gives the town will keep holiday makers away. Those with young families, teenagers especially, as if we hadn’t suffered enough from people booking up for holidays abroad.’ Aiden shook his head slowly.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Ludlam,’ Turner took his cup of tea from the tray.

  ‘You knew Maureen Carey, sir?’

  ‘Since she was a small child.’ He sighed, fixing Kent with a firm gaze. ‘I still find it hard to believe it’s happened. What was the motive? Sexual Assault, Inspector? Whatever possessed the girl to go out on her own so late? She deceived her parents most abominably. Carey, poor man, is devastated. His wife is still in bed suffering from shock and the members of his staff are in a wretched state also. His business will be bound to suffer for awhile after this tragedy.’

  ‘That brings me to enquire about Raymond Perkins, sir. He works for Carey. His grandmother, Mrs June Perkins, I gather attends chapel regularly would you say? What about the lad? How do you find him?’

  Aiden Ludlam frowned. ‘He attends only spasmodically and misses one Sunday or so out of a month.’

  ‘Really.’

  ‘It is only to be expected from a youth like him. Mrs Perkins makes an occasional excuse for him. I gather that he is a martyr to migraine but I rather suspect he prefers a lie in on a Sunday.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I think - he was rather keen on Maureen. Although her father would have been most annoyed if he’d known she’d kept company with his employee and a boy like Raymond. He wanted the girl to do better and to go on to university.’

  ‘That’s understandable. She was a bright girl then at school.’

  ‘According to her parents, she was.’ He frowned. ‘I wouldn’t know. I run a private school for boys, Inspector, so I never personally had any dealings with her academically. I think she probably could have gone far. Such a waste of a young life.’ He sighed and drank some tea from his cup.

  ‘May I ask if there was anyone else who attended the services who was attracted to Maureen? If you noticed Raymond, would you have noticed anyone else who had the same leanings towards her? She was a pretty girl. And I feel by the remarks made to me by her friend, Susan Flitch, that there could possibly have been other admirers.’

  Aiden Ludlam sat upright in his chair and his cup crashed in the saucer. ‘Inspector! She was a child of fifteen! And the majority of our chapel congregation are decent married men, and much older than myself or elderly. I cannot believe that you could suggest such a thing.’

  Kent drank up his tea, put his cup back in the saucer and smiled. ‘I wish to point out to you, Mr. Ludlam that Shakespeare’s Juliet was a minor. Fourteen years old, wasn’t she?’

  Aiden looked embarrassed. ‘Yes - but really, Kent. I must protest. That bears no comparison whatsoever with the morals and manners of the age we’re living in now. We have our laws that we have to live by if we don’t wish to be taken to court and charged.’

  ‘Young girls of today are not backward at coming forward, sir. And many are on the pill at fifteen. They are single parents at fourteen and younger.’

  ‘It is indeed a shameful state of affairs, Inspector.’

  And where have you been living all this time, mate? Kent thought, studying the man in front of him. Ludlam was not happy with the way this conversation was going.

  ‘Are you trying to tell me something, Inspector? That Maureen was not a virgin?’

  Kent said nothing but his silence was all that was needed to substantiate everything to the other man.

  Aiden exploded, ‘This is a slur on an innocent young girl, Inspector! I hope you will not repeat any of this to her parents to add even more anguish to their suffering.’

  ‘It will go no further than this room, Mr. Ludlam. I have no wish to say anything of this nature to Mr. and Mrs. Carey that would spoil their own happy memories of their daughter.’

  ‘They will thank you for your tact, Inspector.’

  Turner put down his cup, picked up his notebook and slipped it into his pocket. ‘Thank you, sir.’ He walked over to the door, held it open for Kent.

  Kent stood up. ‘Thank you for your time, sir.’ He joined Turner. ‘There’s just one more thing. If I may I enquire for my records. Where you were on Thursday and Friday nights? At home or did you go out at all?’

  Aiden smiled. ‘I was at rehearsals, Inspector. Both evenings. I belong to the local Amateur Operatic Company. We perform all the Gilbert and Sullivan pieces and Roger Welbeck was there too. He is also one of our members currently rehearsing the Mikado.’

  ‘I see. Thank you, sir, for your co-operation.’

  ‘Not at all. If there’s anything I can do to help solve this case. Ask away. Or phone me.’

  Kent came away wondering about his next move. Who were they dealing with next? After reading her diary he was pretty sure that Maureen must have cast her allures far wider than Raymond.

  He decided to see Mrs Perkins again. ‘Do you reckon she’ll give us the gen on the men in the chapel congregation, Turner?’

  ‘If you ask her nicely, guv. As long as you’re not pressing her about Raymond’s doings with Maureen. She must have guessed that he was having a high old time with her.’

  ‘It seems like she would do anything for that grandson of hers. And that includes lying. So we’ll have to watch how we approach her, Turner.’

  Turner grinned. ‘You’re learning, guv. Let’s hope we find her in. She works her tail off cleaning most days. I think you’ll find her at the White Rock Hotel this morning, just finishing the upstairs bedrooms. Ask Mrs Frost if you can speak to her first. It’s a busy time all round for hoteliers.’

  *

  Mrs Perkins was on her last bedroom. She was coming out of Thora Wilberforce’s door with a duster in one hand and a vacuum cleaner. She stopped abruptly when she saw them, her face drained of colour. ‘Mr. Turner! Inspector! What do you want with me? You’ve come to tell me Raymond’s in trouble again.’

  ‘Hold on Mrs P. Raymond is at work. As far as we know. The Inspector just wants to ask you just a few questions.’

  ‘Questions,’ she echoed. ‘What about?’

  ‘You know more about the chapel goers than anyone else. And as Mrs Sherlborne told me how much you enjoy your romances,’ Kent said with a wide grin. ‘I thought you’d be the ideal person to sum up the romantic potential of the men amongst the chapel goers. This has to be strictly on the QT mind.’

  Her face brightened visibly. And she proceeded to enlighten him, very succinctly. Roger Welbeck was a pleasant young man. Hard working. Worried himse
lf sick over his wife. A bit of a lad with the girls, he used to be, but not now.

  ‘So what about young Maureen? How did he behave towards her, Mrs Perkins?’

  She thought carefully for a second or so. ‘O-oh - she was flirty with him when her father’s back was turned. Roger Welbeck seemed really worried for a time. I think she used to wait to corner him when he was around doing some work on the place. Pestered him she did.’ She nodded. ‘She didn’t like being ignored and she used to put Raymond through it too, I can tell you. Mr. Turner. I wasn’t any too happy about that.’

  ‘So what can you tell me about Mr. Berkley? How did Maureen behave around him?’

  ‘Oh, I think she flirted with him too, or tried to - ’ She nodded. ‘He used to treat her like his friend’s daughter which she was, of course. The Carey’s and Berkleys are good friends. But what happened in private. Well - who knows, Mr. Turner? Maureen was a sly one. She could be getting up to all kinds of tricks that girl. She had flirty, flirty eyes, He’s a bit frayed around the edges is Mr. Berkley. He’s in his late forties and he could have been tempted like any man. He was quite a good looker when he was young.’ She pursed up her lips and thought carefully for a moment.

  ‘Mr. Turner could tell you that he was sniffing around my Pammie before she left home. So if Maureen was offering sex on a plate; he’s your boy.’ She chuckled richly. ‘And it’s very difficult to be rude to a pal’s daughter in their company. I think she was a bit sweet on his son Michael too.’

  ‘So what about Aiden Ludlam, Mrs Perkins?’

  Here Kent was about to experience a hiccup, his first difficulty in persuading her to speak out. She looked shocked for the first time at the suggestion of any illicit affair going on there. ‘What about him, Mr. Turner? Mr. Ludlam is a man of the cloth!’

  ‘Well he’s a man for all that, Mrs Perkins. He’s not immune to the temptations of a young highly sexed girl, is he?’ Turner said chewing on his sweet.

  ‘Whatever you may think. I’m not suggesting anything occurred between them. But we have to go through all possibilities before we dismiss anyone from the suspect list.’

  ‘Well - he is a handsome man, Inspector. I’ll give you that. And he has become quite a favourite with most of the woman chapel goers,’ she said reluctantly.

  ‘Tell me more about Mrs Ludlam? She is not quite the match you would have thought he’d pick for a wife, is he?’

  June Perkins thought this over for a moment or so and sighed. ‘Well it seemed only natural that he would marry her. When he first came to teach at her father’s school she fell for him in a big way. You can’t blame her.’ She sighed again. ‘And she was a nice little thing. Mr. Ludlam is quite shy with women. He treats her like Dresden china and is so kind. She lights up when he speaks to her.’

  ‘Mr. Ludlam is he local?’

  She shrugged. ‘No. I think he comes from somewhere near Cambridge, and Raymond asked him once if he’d met Pammie, his mother. I had to explain to Mr. Ludlam his reasons for asking. Raymond was only eight at the time. He didn’t mean to be rude. It was just his way.’

  She went on to do a run down on some of the other men chapel goers. Mostly were sixty or going on seventy and some elderly widowers had women friends that June Perkins knew all about. Kent had a sudden attack of sneezing into his handkerchief, his eyes streaming, and stopped her natural flow with a raised hand.

  ‘Is that all you want to know, Inspector? You should get some medicine for that cold.’

  ‘Yes - I know. Thank you very much. You’ve been a great help.’

  ‘Oh, I almost forgot, Inspector. There is Jonathan Parker and his mother Nora who attend regularly. He is young, about thirty four I think, but you can forget him as far as Maureen goes,’ she said with a wicked twinkle in her eye. ‘Jonathan Parker runs the Dolphin Art gallery with his partner Gregory Randall.’

  23

  Police Superintendent Dick Shannon asked, ‘So you spoke to Ludlam. Have you got any joy for me from it?’

  ‘I think I’ve got the low down on most of those men amongst the chapel goers. But not from Ludlam; he is rather cagey and won’t budge an inch. He’s a sanctimonious prick.’ Shannon coughed. ‘And I don’t excuse my language, sir. I could think of something much worse if I had the time.’

  He added with a wide grin. ‘I went to see Mrs Perkins afterwards, sir. And tapped her for information. She’s a chattering magpie and a fairly good judge of men. She told me about most of them. She has quite a thing going for Aiden Ludlam. Most of the women in the chapel congregation do. Apparently.’

  ‘So - fill me in then. Are you doing something about that cold of yours by the way? You look full of it.’

  ‘It’s hay fever, sir. It’s bad today. Roger Welbeck is one of the youngest men and I’ve already spoken to him. A very keen chapelgoer, he never misses according to Mrs Perkins. He attends regularly with his wife Sara, she’s a cripple in a wheelchair. A lovely young woman and a talented artist, she has her work put on show in the local Art gallery and it sells.’

  Shannon nodded. ‘Yes I know Sara personally. Her work is exceptionally good. I bought one of her paintings last time they were on show.’

  ‘You must know then that Roger keeps the chapel pipes and boiler in good nick, He’s in his mid-thirties.’

  ‘Uh-huh. Next then.’

  ‘Tom Berkley, the Mayor and councillor. A man you should know quite well, boss. He runs and owns the departmental store. Like little Jack Horner, he’s got his fingers in a lot of business pies. I would say financially he’s loaded and a very influential and resourceful man. Age about forty-nine, Mrs Perkins thinks. She reckons he’s a bit of a lady’s man but Brenda, his wife, according to Turner, is the real power behind the throne.

  ‘Mrs Perkins hinted that her daughter Pammie could have had a fling with him before she went off. His daughter Debbie is about to be married into an influential family, the Mandervilles. They’re supposed to have come over with William the Conqueror. They live in an ancient manor house outside of town, the fiancée; Hugh Manderville is a stock broker.’

  ‘But none of this points out to Berkley being a leading suspect.’

  ‘Then there are some ancient mariners of sixty plus with their wives to fill the seats. And, oh yes, there is Jonathan Parker and his old Mum, Nora Parker. Don’t think we need to worry about him. Mrs Perkins said, on the quiet, that Jonathan has a boyfriend, Gerald Randall.

  ‘And the women, most are single like the Wilberforce sisters or widows and such like, who put their mites into the collection plate. On the whole, there’s a reasonably good attendance every week but not many young folk unless with their parents.’

  ‘You’ve done your homework there. Has it got you anywhere though?’

  ‘Not so far. I wouldn’t think there was any chance of a connection there with the other girl and perhaps there isn’t any at all. Both girls could have been picked out willy-nilly. On pure chance, simply because they were out on their own late at night. But nevertheless we will check up on those men that Yvette has met during her work time and see if they match up. So I think we’ll talk some more to Mrs Flitch.’

  ‘The Nag’s Head is very busy but we do have our regulars that come in. And Yvette was an added bonus. She sparkled like a diamond behind the bar but she had to watch it because of that boyfriend of hers,’ Kathie Flitch said as Kent handed over the list of chapel attendants.

  ‘So did any of these men on this list frequent the pub?’

  ‘Let me see. Roger Welbeck is one definitely and Tom Berkley another. Roger’s a nice bloke. Tom Berkely now…’ She wrinkled her small nose. ‘Throws his weight about a bit. And never brings in his wife Brenda.’ She made a face. ‘She wouldn’t choose to come in here. She’s more the Coffee mornings, Bridge evenings type but Berkeley’s spent a good bit of time in here since Yvette came. While Brenda’s been rehearsing her part in the Mikado.

  ‘And Raymond Perkins whenever that Maureen had a row with him came in here.
Yvette flirted with him but she did with anything in pants. Old Billy Mooney now, he’s a nice old chap comes in for half a pint of home brew with Joe Corbet his pal. They used to man the lifeboat when a ship’s in trouble in the Channel but they might have retired by now.’

  ‘So did Yvette seem more than friendly with either of the younger men?’

  She shrugged her shoulders and her dress slipped tauntingly low. She hitched it back up with silver painted fingertips. ‘Berkley possibly. He has the money. Roger because he’s a pleasant chap anyway. She made all the men feel special. It was just her way. She was a natural flirt.’

  And you’re not above turning the charm on yourself, Turner thought as he noticed with a wry grin, how she was chatting up the Inspector. He was in on a chance there if he wanted but he was keeping strictly to business. She was wasting her time on Jon Kent.

  ‘You mentioned Raymond Perkins. Was he in here Thursday night?’

  She thought for a minute or so as she gave back the list. ‘Yes - I think he was. He downed a couple of pints in ten minutes or so. But he can’t take much and sat in the corner looking like a lost dog in the pound. About nine, I think it was. Can’t say exactly when he left though.’

  ‘And what about Saturday night, was he in here then?’

  She shrugged. ‘He might well have been. We were very busy and it was a good night. The place was filled with holidaymakers with a terrific thirst. This hot weather brings them in here in droves. So I couldn’t take notice of all the regulars and Raymond Perkins is not that special.’

  ‘He was in here Thursday. So young Ray was telling porkers,’ Kent remarked. ‘Do you have a raffle in here at all, Mrs Flitch?’

  ‘Sometimes - yes. Actually we did last Thursday. It was to help the local hospital to furnish the new children’s ward.’

  ‘So would one of the prizes be a box of chocolates by any chance?’

  ‘Yes. That’s right. And now you’ve mentioned it, Raymond Perkins won the third prize. And that was it, a large box of chocolates. He left soon afterwards I think.’

 

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