'Why didn't
'Because I didn't find the letters until a year later and by then the case was effectively closed.' She plucked at her lower lip. 'I don't think you realize what it's like to be part of a murder inquiry. It's not a very comfortable experience. I'd have needed something much stronger than a couple of faded love letters to make us all go through that terrible mill again.'
He leaned forward. 'So for the next nine years, you pretended nothing had happened, and then you learned about her and Leo and you were afraid history was about to repeat itself.'
She didn't say anything. Perhaps she realized how thin it all sounded, and how odd her own behavior must seem in the circumstances.
'So what did you do, Jinx?'
'I thought it would be better if no one knew, so when we got back to London I told Leo to phone his parents and make sure they didn't say anything until he gave them the go-ahead. I said I needed to speak to my father first.' She propped her chin in her hands and stared wretchedly at the carpet. 'But I can't remember if I spoke to Adam or not, so I don't know whether- She broke off abruptly.
'You don't know whether you gave him a reason to have them murdered.'
53 LANSING ROAD, SALISBURY-1:15 P.M.
WPC Blake inserted her foot in Flossie Hale's door and refused to remove it. 'I'm not going away until you talk to me,' she said firmly, 'so you may as well let me in.'
After a second or two the pressure against her foot lessened and the door swung open. Flossie regarded her without enthusiasm from a face rainbow-hued with healing bruises. She clasped an old candlewick dressing gown across her broad chest with a plaster-encased forearm, looking twenty years older than her forty-six years. 'What do you want?'
'Just a chat. How are you feeling now?'
'So-so.' She gave a wheeze of bitter amusement. 'Still a bit tender when I sit down, but I'm surviving.' She led the way into a tiny sitting room, stuffed with overlarge furniture. 'You might as well take a seat,' she said ungraciously, propping her plump arms on a television set and leaning her weight on it. 'By rights I should be in my bed, but I can't say I fancy it much at the moment. I tried to persuade the hospital to keep me in a bit longer but they turfed me out for some old boy with piles.' She gazed disconsolately at the young policewoman. 'I suppose life's pretty grim for everyone these days.'
Blake nodded. 'It seems that way. I only ever hear hard-luck stories.'
'I wouldn't mind so much if I didn't pay my taxes. You're entitled to expect something for all the money you shell out.'
Privately, WPC Blake thought it highly unlikely that Flossie had ever declared an income in her life, but she nodded sympathetically. 'I agree with you, which is why I'm here. Part of what you should expect in a civilized society is peace of mind and safety, and until we find the man who assaulted you, I'm afraid you won't have either.' She ignored the expression of stubborn resistance that settled on Flossie's face, and took her notebook from her handbag. 'You're not the only prostitute he's beaten up. There was another one three months ago and he was just as vicious with her. She says he paid her forty pounds. Was that what he paid you?'
'It may have been,' she said grudgingly.
'She also said she thought he was expecting someone young and attractive and took against her when it turned out she was old enough to be his mother. Was that your experience?''
She shrugged. 'It may have been,' she said again.
'She advertises in telephone boxes and shop windows. I think that's how you get your customers too, isn't it?'
'Maybe.'
'Okay, well, I've done a bit of legwork in the last couple of days around the girls who advertise the same way, and while no one else seems to have suffered in quite the way you and the other woman did, three of them gave me a description of a well-spoken, handsome young man who became aggressive during his climax.' She consulted her notebook. 'One described him as twisting his hand in her hair and almost pulling it out by the roots. Another said he hit her about the face with her own hairbrush, and the third said he pulled her wig off, then got so angry with her he stuffed it into her mouth. She said he apologized afterwards and paid her an extra ten pounds for her trouble.' She looked up. 'All three girls are in their twenties, but they all agreed he had a thing about hair and hairbrushes. Does this sound familiar, Flossie?'
She sighed. 'Seems you've been working overtime, love. Go on then, what's the description?'
Blake read it out. 'Height, about five feet eleven. Slim, muscular build, with hairs down the center of his chest. Good-looking, boyish face with dark blond, slightly curly hair, possibly highlighted at the sides, and blue or gray eyes. No facial hair. One girl suggested he plucked his eyebrows, because they were very fine and nicely shaped. Clothing varied between a dark suit and white shirt to Levi's and white T-shirt. They all described him as clean, well-spoken, and probably the product of a public school. Is that about right, would you say?'
'He looked as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, but God, he was a vicious little brute.' She touched a hand to her bruises. 'I'll tell you something-he couldn't sustain himself for half a second. All the shouting and yelling and hitting he went in for was his way of pretending he could keep it up. It didn't occur to me the first time around-I mean, let's face it, you don't feel much when you've been on the game as long as I have-but the second time around he never even got it in he came so quick. And he didn't half punish me for that. It wasn't just that I was old enough to be his mother-though I guess that had something to do with it-mostly it was because he was inadequate.'
'Is there anything you can add to the description?'
She shook her head. 'Sorry. He was very good-looking, beautiful really, reminded me a bit of Paul Newman in
'Before what?'
Flossie regarded her morosely. 'I guess he meant he'd beaten up on lots of girls but that none of them had
