‘But then later she backtracked . . . told Shirley it was all a misunderstanding and they couldn’t be the killer anyway . . .’ Burton continued thoughtfully. ‘Maybe when she had time to think things over, it didn’t seem that serious . . . more a case of lying by omission . . .’
‘She was the kind of lady who’d think it was a big deal to keep anything back from the police,’ Doyle put in.
Once again, Markham remembered the detective saying Loraine Thornley was like his nan. He smiled encouragingly at the younger man. ‘Go on, Doyle.’
‘Well, it might just be she realized someone was off on a skive when they should’ve been working. Not the end of the world . . . but it didn’t sit right with her that they didn’t come clean about it, what with this being a murder enquiry . . . That’s what she must have meant about “having a difficult conversation” . . .’
‘Thou shalt not lie. It’s the commandments, innit?’
‘Indeed, Sergeant.’
‘Actually,’ Burton cleared her throat, ‘it’s Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour.’
Her male colleagues exchanged looks. Here she goes again . . .
‘Any road, she was the church-going type like Doyle said.’ The DC blinked, having in fact said nothing to that effect. He forbore from correcting Noakes, however, not wishing to interrupt his colleague’s flow. ‘Salt of the earth . . . honest as the day is long . . . They must all have talked about what they told the police. So, stands to reason she got a bee in her bonnet.’
‘But our killer wasn’t prepared to take the risk of her blurting it out . . . little did they know she’d already confided in Shirley Bolton.’ To Markham, it seemed as though the small room had suddenly darkened. ‘Switch the lights on please, Doyle.’ The DC duly complied.
Burton frowned. ‘Shirley couldn’t be positive who was around when Loraine spoke about having this “difficult conversation”.’
‘Yeah, sounded like the world an’ his wife was in the staffroom. Mind you, it was time for elevenses.’ Ample justification in Noakes’s opinion for a general downing of tools.
‘Run us through the alibis for both murders, Kate — Ms Shawcross and Peter Elford.’
Burton snapped to attention, taking some papers out of a manila folder in front of her. Noakes and Doyle exchanged eye-rolls, but her summary was crisp and concise.
‘Taking Rebecca first . . . The two therapists, Jenni Harte and Tariq Azhar, were together in Azhar’s office. The ANP Maureen Stanley was giving Jayne Pickering — Loraine’s niece, the phlebotomist — a training session. Doctor Troughton was doing paperwork in his office . . . Thelma Macdonald was back and forth from reception . . . at some point she visited the library. Shirley was at her post in the sixth-form study annexe apart from a loo break and a quick coffee in the downstairs staffroom where she says she didn’t see anyone.’
‘What about Mister Loopy?’
‘Chris Burt,’ Burton was po-faced. ‘He was doing various jobs around the building. There was some sort of overflow or blockage in the ladies . . . he appears to have been sorting that out round about the time Rebecca was killed.’
‘Poor ole Dyno-Rod.’
Burton ignored the interruption.
‘It’s possible someone may have tampered with the toilets deliberately,’ she said, ‘to keep him out of the way.’
‘We still don’t know for sure where Rebecca Shawcross encountered her murderer.’ Markham’s face was taut with concentration.
‘That’s right, sir, though Dimples thinks she was killed in the minor ops treatment room where the body was stashed . . . Too risky to trundle it round the ground floor, and minor ops was a safe bet . . . nobody was booked to use it and, provided the killer moved fast, they had a clear run.’
‘What about alibis for Mr Elford’s murder, Kate?’
‘Loraine and Jayne Pickering were out doing home visits in Medway.’ Burton didn’t even have to look at her notes. ‘Shirley and Thelma were manning the library and reception. Doctor Troughton and Nurse Stanley had patients . . . though not continuously, so they took the chance for a couple of catch-ups. Jenni and Tariq were working on their research paper . . . Shelly was in late to work after discovering Rebecca’s body . . . Chris Burt was on the premises, though no one had eyes on him all the time.’
Markham’s face was a study in frustration. ‘It just doesn’t add up,’ he exclaimed. ‘For Elford, everyone was where they should have been.’ He sighed deeply. ‘Right, let’s go back to Rebecca . . .’
‘Loraine must’ve meant the alibis for Shawcross, guv,’ Noakes said. ‘An’ then she figured it wasn’t such a big deal in the end cos whoever fibbed couldn’t possibly have done Elford.’
‘D’you have a theory, Sergeant?’
‘I reckon it was that Stanley one told a whopper, boss.’
‘Go on.’
‘Well, she was meant to be teaching Loraine’s niece, wasn’t she? Doing a training session or whatever it was.’
‘That’s right, sarge.’ Doyle was enthused. ‘I mean, she was the only one who was actually supposed to be doing something specific. And Loraine was old-school . . . she’d most likely take a dim view of a trainer sloping off, especially with the trainee being her niece . . . Jayne likely didn’t want to make trouble and kept shtum, but Loraine knew Stanley’d been skiving because she saw her . . .’
‘An’ don’ forget, Stanley’d be doing Loraine’s blood pressure an’ whatnot . . . mebbe that’s when they were gonna have the “difficult conversation”.’
The DI was reflective. He
