much chance of you finding anything after the police have been over the whole area with a fine-tooth comb.”
“I wasn’t really expecting to find anything, just get a feeling of the place.”
This prompted a predictably old-fashioned look from Carole. She was more than sceptical of her neighbour’s New Age beliefs in auras and synchron-icity and healing and similar mumbo-jumbo.
Except for one detail, the scrubby little area behind the kitchen looked the same as it ever had. It probably had been swept and raked over by police detectives, but the loose sand and rough dune grass had soon blown over to cover any traces of their activity.
The one thing that was different had not been left by the police. It was a jam-jar of flowers. A white label had been stuck on it, with the single word ‘RAY’ scrawled in a childish hand. The July heat had evaporated much of the water, leaving a greenish scum round the interior of the glass. The flowers, drooped, colourless and limp as cooked spaghetti.
“Was that there when you arrived this morning?” asked Carole. When Ed nodded, she observed, “Looks as if it’s been there more than a day to get that dried up.”
“Somebody loved him,” said Jude softly.
“His mother did. We know that.”
“Yes, but these weren’t left by his mother, Carole. Having seen the state she’s in, I don’t think she could have made it this far from her flat.”
“She might have got a taxi.”
“Yes, maybe.”
Jude stood very still in front of the flowers, her eyes almost closed, breathing in deeply.
“Have you got enough of the
“Just give me a minute more.”
Carole snorted and hung about with bad grace until suddenly she snapped her fingers. “I’ve just remembered something.”
“What?”
“When we were here that evening, when we found Ray’s body, just before that, we heard footsteps of someone running away over the shingle.”
“That’s right,” said Jude. “I’d completely forgotten.”
Both women turned towards the chef. “You didn’t hear anything, did you? Or see anyone running away?”
He shook his head. “There was so much going on. I was still reeling from the blow I’d had in the face, and then seeing Ray’s body…No, I didn’t see anyone.”
“I wonder who it was.”
The two women went back into the kitchen. Ed followed them and looked around with slight unease. “I wonder if there’ll be any lunch orders today.”
“There’ll be at least two,” replied Carole. “From us.”
“Oh, good.” He seemed relieved to be moving the conversation on. “What would you like?”
But Carole was not to be deflected from her chosen course. “I’d like, if you don’t mind, for you to go through in detail what you actually saw on Sunday night.”
“All right.” He didn’t see the point of arguing. “But there’s not much to tell. I’ve just told you I didn’t see anyone running away.”
“Before that, though. Did you actually see Dan Poke’s act?” asked Jude.
“Most of it. We weren’t serving food that Sunday evening, but it had been busy at lunchtime and people were still eating till round six or so. Ted had got all the girls helping set up the bar for the show, so I was tidying up everything in the kitchen myself. Took me till after Dan Poke started. Then I managed to get to sit on the ledge of one of the front windows…I don’t know, round eight fifteen probably.”
“Did you like the act?”
He grinned, as though surprised that Jude had needed to ask. “Yes, of course. He’s very good. Very sharp.”
And very cruel, thought Carole. Still, Ed had probably missed most of the rubbishing of Ted Crisp, which had come at the beginning.
“And did you actually see what started the fight afterwards?”
“No. There was such a crush, it could have been anything. One of the bikers got jostled maybe, and then swung a fist at someone. That’s how fights usually start.”
“You didn’t get the feeling the fight was started deliberately?”
“Hard to tell. It was the sort of crowd that clearly liked a fight – well, the biker lot did, anyway. It’s amazing, there are some people who do actually enjoy fighting. You know, feel that an evening down the pub isn’t complete until you’ve drunk yourself paralytic and had a good punch-up.”
Carole shuddered. “But not at the Crown and Anchor in Fethering.”
“Maybe not.”
“Can you tell us,” asked Jude, “exactly what happened to you, you know, where you went, when the fight started?”
Ed Pollack smiled weakly. “Easy. I’ve had plenty of rehearsal for that answer. One of the things the police kept asking me.”
“Sorry. But if you don’t mind…”
“No, no, fine. OK, when the fight started, I should have backed off straight away, not got involved. But I saw Ted wading in, and I followed to try and stop him. Struck me he’d got already enough trouble without getting into a fight. But almost immediately I got this elbow or whatever it was in my face. Very hard, smashed my glasses, which fell off and got lost in the general chaos. And, you know, with pain like that you can hardly see for a few moments, and I sort of backed off, trying to keep out of the way of any more flying elbows or fists or beer bottles. So I retreated back to the kitchen to sort of lick my wounds…well, to try and wash some of the blood away in the sink.”
“Did you go back to the kitchen through the bar?”
The chef grinned sardonically. “You’re very good, Carole. Asking exactly the same questions as the police did. And I think I know what your next one will be too.”
“Oh?”
“Was the back door to the kitchen closed when I went in there?” he parroted.
Carole looked a little taken aback. “I was going to ask that, yes.”
“The answer is: it was. And no, I didn’t notice whether one of my kitchen knives was missing at that time, but I think it must have been. Certainly no one came into the kitchen while I was there, which means that whoever took the knife must have done so earlier.”
“So when did you open the back door?”
“When I heard the police siren. Self-protection dictated that I should get off the scene as quickly as possible.”
“Exactly what we thought,” said Jude. “That’s why we went round the back, thought it would be simpler to get home that way rather than being questioned by the police.”
Carole couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Not, of course, that we had anything to hide.”
Jude grinned. “No, of course not. So, Ed, when we saw you, it was just at the moment you’d opened the back door to make your getaway?”
“Yes. Except that I didn’t realize it was you two. I’m blind as a bat without my glasses, so I could just see the outline of two people.”
“But you did see what had happened to Ray?”
“Yes. I saw something lying there when I opened the door. I had a close look at him – my eyesight’s OK really close.” He swallowed nervously. “It was a bit of a shock.”
“I’m sure it was. So you could see the knife?”
“Oh yes. And I recognized it as one of mine, but I didn’t really have time to take in the full implications of that. I was so shocked I wasn’t really thinking straight.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Carole. “And…I think I probably know the answer to this question, but I’m going to
