There was a challenge in Brenda’s voice that made Lizzie warm to her.
‘Did anyone else arrive before Chloe?’ Khan said.
‘Well this is what I wanted to tell you about. At around nine, a car came in. Now normally I wouldn’t have had the barrier up, but Bill said should he do it on his way past to save me the bother later? I’ve had this problem with my shoulder, you see, so I said yes.’
She paused for breath and Khan waited. Lizzie hoped Brenda would get to the point before his patience ran out.
‘It was a little car, white or off-white, with a dark red roof.’
‘The make?’
‘I’m not very good at car names. But you see them around. They look sort of old-fashioned, but I bet they cost a bomb.’
‘Did you see who was in it?’
‘Just a driver. I didn’t get a good look but I think female and she had dark hair. I was going to go and tell her she was too early, but I figured she’d work it out. She didn’t come by on foot, so I thought she must be waiting in her car. Anyway, at about twenty-past nine, I went to put the sign out. You see where it is?’ she pointed to the corner beyond the picnic area, ‘another car came in then. Well, that’s not so unusual, to be ten minutes early, so I didn’t take much notice.’
‘Can you remember anything about it, Brenda?’
‘Dark, blue or black, quite a posh make. A feller driving and someone in the passenger seat.’
‘And did they come to buy a ticket?’
‘Well, it all got very busy after that. There were three minibuses full of cub scouts. So I was sorting out their group ticket, then it turned out there was a fourth minibus on its way, and they wanted to wait, because the scout leader was in the last bus and he had all the money. Anyway, you can imagine, they were all milling around and then the families started arriving and there was a disgruntled pensioner and his wife, who’d driven from Spalding and didn’t expect to have to wait around with nowhere to sit. They could have been the people from the dark coloured car, couldn’t they? I mean there are some very generous pensions nowadays. But no, they wouldn’t be, because they came in after the cub scouts arrived.’
Khan waited while she caught her breath again. Another wasp buzzed over the table and he ignored it.
‘Try to picture the driver of the first car, Mrs Coldacre. Was there anything about her, apart from the fact she was female?’
‘I didn’t take a proper look, I’m sorry.’
‘Did any woman come in on her own to buy a ticket? A young woman of Pakistani heritage, perhaps?’
Brenda shook her head. ‘I’m not saying we don’t get Asian visitors, because we do, Mr Khan, and we offer everyone here at Halsworth Grange the same welcome and the same treatment, but to be honest, I would have noticed, because at this time of year it’s usually families.’
‘And as far as you can tell, the driver of the little cream coloured car never appeared at the ticket office?’
‘I don’t believe she did. No.’
‘And Chloe Toms walked up the drive after both the cream car and the dark coloured car, but before the cub scouts?’
‘Definitely after the two cars, because I’d already put the sign out.’
He rubbed his beard in circles and smoothed it down again. Lizzie was distracted for a moment by trying to guess whether it would feel soft or bristly. She pulled her attention back to Brenda Coldacre.
‘Are the older couple or the cub scouts still here?’
The older woman shook her head. ‘The cubs were doing us in the morning and the farm park this afternoon, so they left at about noon, but I can give you a contact name and number, because someone lost their camera and I said I’d ring if we found it. I can’t help you with the miserable pensioners though. Oops, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t say that. I’ll be one myself before long. It’s just what we call them when no one’s listening.’
A half-smile twitched across Khan’s face for a moment. Lizzie had come across people like Brenda before. The shock of a horrific crime made them burble and make jokes they would later regret.
‘Thank you, Mrs Coldacre,’ he stood up and shook her hand solemnly. ‘You’ve been very helpful. I’ll walk down to the ticket office with you and get that phone number, if that’s all right. Then you should go and see to your husband.’
‘Mrs Coldacre, do you mind if I pop in and see Mr Coldacre in about half an hour? I need to get a DNA sample to rule him out,’ Lizzie caught Khan’s eye as she spoke and he nodded. She hoped he was right about Bill, almost as much as she hoped she was right about Chloe. Ruling people out was the only way to start ruling people in.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Doncaster
Under the harsh lights of the pathology unit, Lizzie watched Alf Huggins explore Taheera Ahmed’s body with the delicacy of a surgeon who still has a life to save.
‘Good skin, healthy nails and hair.’ He lifted the fleshy tissue of her upper lip and looked at her teeth. ‘Money’s been spent on some top quality orthodontic work.’
‘Was she sexually active?’
‘Hymen intact.’
‘Not bad for a twenty-three-year old.’
‘Now if I’d made that remark, you’d tell me off,’ Dr Huggins said. ‘It may seem old-fashioned to you, but a crime of passion doesn’t have to involve sexual intercourse.’
‘Could it involve, for the sake of argument, a staff member and a vulnerable client? Both young women?’
‘Not my department, I’m afraid.’ Alf Huggins stood back and looked at Lizzie. ‘Khan says the family wants the body to be released as soon as possible, on religious grounds. Any particular requests about what organs you’d like me to keep, as we’re pushed for time?’
‘The wound itself is our main clue. Without a murder weapon, that’s all we’ve got. One of the girls in the lab is getting something oil-based from the neck swabs,’ Lizzie said. ‘It would be good to know what we’re looking for. Running a test for every lipid could take weeks.’
‘I don’t think they’ll be very happy if I send her back without a neck. Hard to detach it from her head, you see.’
The slit in Taheera’s throat looked like a second mouth, flat lips of skin pushed opened in a grimace.
Dr Huggins leant in for a closer look. ‘It’s almost surgical, a very clean cut, but then the exit is so messy. Makes me think of a cheese knife, except they’re never sharp enough for a decent piece of cheddar.’
‘Are you into gardening, sir?’ Lizzie saw the surprise shoot across his bushy eyebrows.
‘More my wife’s department. She’s into the good life, grows all our veg, flowers for the table, that sort of thing.’
‘What sort of tools does she use? I mean, is there a particular brand of gardening knife she favours?’
He straightened up and shifted the weight off his hip. ‘Let me think, yes, there was something I got her for Christmas, professional sort of knife. Swedish name, I think. Bloody sharp.’
‘Like a pathologist’s scalpel?’
‘Almost. But a little thicker.’ He smiled and pinched the two sides of the wound together through his latex gloves. ‘Yes, yes. Sharp but wider than a scalpel, maybe one, one and a half millimetres at most. Crikey, don’t tell me you think my wife Anne’s responsible.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Lizzie smiled. ‘But thanks, that’s very useful. How long have I got before we have to hand her over?’
‘Well, it’s pretty clear what killed her; I just want to check for anything that tells us who. I won’t rush it. Three hours? Four at the most?’
‘Perfect. Let me see if I can find something to fit that wound.’
She turned to go and then remembered something else. ‘I’ll send the crime scene photographer across, if he won’t be in your way. I’d like a light source treatment on her arm and her face. Hopefully someone left some prints.’