He paused, looking as if he might say more, then shoved the pipe back between his teeth and stomped off towards the Penny Parade. The faithful Jip, dozing in the shade of the deckchair pile, climbed creakily to her feet and followed.
Mark shouted after him. Bill glanced over his shoulder, still walking forwards. ‘Do they know who the dead girl is yet?’ called Mark.
Bill Turpin stopped walking. Mark was by his side again now. Bill blew a cloud of foul smoke into his face. Mark recoiled, coughing, and was sure he spotted a look of some satisfaction on Bill’s face.
The old man turned on his heel and strode off without replying, upsetting the plans of his dog, already looking for another place to settle for a sleep.
‘Thank you so much,’ Mark muttered to himself.
He set off along the seafront towards the lido. Police were mingling with the crowds asking questions, but Mark did not see any people that he knew. He paused by the lavatory roof, raised a couple of feet above the upper path. The lavatory itself was entered from the lower path, almost at sea level. A girl and a boy were still there, squatting close together, talking intently.
‘Hi. Mark Piddle. Durraton Gazette.’
The girl, shapely and sure of herself, stood up. She was wearing the briefest of bikinis. Mark found his eyes almost directly in line with her crotch and tried not to stare.
‘If it’s Jenny you want, she’s in hospital,’ said the girl.
‘So I heard. Did you see anything?’
‘We heard Jenny screaming and went to help her out of the water. A couple of policemen clambered out across the rocks to try to bring the body in. But we never saw it...’
The girl sniffed and the corners of her lips curled downwards. Mark thought how unpleasant her facial expression was. He preferred to look at her ripe young body.
‘You don’t know who the dead girl was, then?’
‘No,’ the girl caught hold of the boy’s hand.
‘What’s your name?’ asked Mark.
‘Pussy Galore,’ said the girl, simpering.
Mark was suddenly irritated.
‘You wouldn’t know what to do with it, darling, and nor would your boyfriend, I reckon,’ he snapped at her, glaring at the boy and daring him to retaliate. The boy flushed and fumbled for words. It was to be a long time before Todd Mallett would grow into the kind of man who was not easily intimidated by anyone.
‘Clear off,’ he said lamely.
‘Yeah, clear off,’ echoed the girl, no longer quite so sure of herself.
Mark gazed steadily at the pair of them. They were embarrassed now. He was suddenly sure they were both virgins.
‘If you want any more lessons you know where to find me,’ he said.
The girl looked pleadingly at the boy. He tugged at her arm. ‘Come on, let’s go. Ignore him.’
Mark felt better now. He turned and jogged back along the seafront to his car. There was nothing left to see. The body was long gone. The only police in sight were junior officers asking routine questions. Mark supposed the County CID had been called in, but he would probably do best on the phone to the cops that evening.
Jenny Stone. The girl who had bumped into a body while out swimming. That was the obvious story. He climbed into the driver’s seat of the battered Cooper.
‘A nice new open sports job, that’s what you should be driving, Mark boy.’
The mini started at the third attempt.
‘Come on, heap,’ Mark coaxed.
He grated the little car into reverse gear, kicking up a cloud of dust as he turned sharply and roared out of the car park. He passed a couple of the boys from the nationals just arriving, and started to make his plans. He would stop off at home, make his police calls, see if anyone could name the body and quickly file a few parts of early lineage. If he could get some sort of story together before the staff men, it could be worth a few bob. Then he would drive to Reg Stone’s house and wait for Jenny to be brought home. With a bit of luck, everybody else would go to the hospital. The national pack, area men up from Plymouth and down from Bristol, wouldn’t know where Reg Stone lived, just back from the burrows in Pelham Bay — but Mark did, because Reg Stone was a councillor. The others would find out fast enough, but Mark would have the edge. If Jenny came out of hospital tonight, he might just be alone on the doorstep. He smelt an exclusive. He glanced at his watch. Jenny Stone would not be released from hospital for a bit, he was sure. If he got home quickly now there would be time for more than just filing some lineage. That sexual banter with those two good-looking kids really had made him randy. The girl was sixteen or seventeen, Mark supposed. Irene was twenty-one, but she still had almost the body of a child.
By now he was driving so fast he almost lost the Cooper on the hairpin bend at the bottom of the hill leading to his flat. He regained control by the skin of his teeth, screeched to a halt and ran up the stairs three at a time. The front door was open, and he quickly bolted it behind him. Irene came into the living room from the kitchen to greet him. She was wearing a tight cotton dress. He could see her nipples through the material. She started to speak to him. He unzipped his flies and his cock virtually jumped out through the gap. Even he sometimes wished it wouldn’t do that.
Irene wasn’t sure she could take any more that day. She took a step backwards. He didn’t even notice. His arms were around her. He picked her up and bent her face downwards over the back of the sofa, pushing her dress up around her waist as he did so.
‘Not there, Mark, please, I’m so sore,’ she said.
‘Open your legs wider then,’ he hissed. She did so. He thrust into her and started to come almost at once. It was like that for him sometimes. Particularly after he had been working.
An hour later he was sitting in the Cooper outside the Stones’ terraced house. Waiting in the dark. He had been joined by the Durraton Gazette’s only photographer. At eleven o’clock, just as he had given up hope, Mr and Mrs Stone arrived home with their only daughter.
The snapper had his instructions. Don’t snatch.
Naturally he disobeyed and immediately shoved camera and flash into Jenny Stone’s face. Her father was not pleased.
‘She’s upset,’ he said. ‘Leave her alone, you buggers.’
In the mere split second of flashlight, Mark had been instantly sure he knew Jenny from somewhere. He cursed his snapper, but resolutely continued with his persuasive routine of logic and sweet-talk. One quick chat with him now and it would keep all the other reporters at bay, he would tell the story sensitively, etc. etc. Jenny stared at the young man. She was coming around from shock. Gradually she began to realise who he was.
‘It’s all right, Dad, I may as well get it over with. They said at the hospital half the world’s press wanted to talk to me.’
Reg Stone gave in reluctantly. ‘Ten minutes,’ he said to Mark. ‘She needs sleep.’
Mark followed parents and daughter into the house and shook hands with all three of them. As he did so Jenny smiled a small half smile. They were in the brightly lit hallway by now, and Mark could see her clearly. In spite of herself and all that was happening, there was a direct challenging look in her eye.
Jesus. It was that kid he’d nearly had at the school dance. Jenny. Of course. He hadn’t bothered to ask her name that night, he’d been so horny, but when she had phoned his office she told them to tell him Jenny had called, Jenny from the dance. She must be seventeen now. God, she’d been ripe then. He remembered the feel of her. She hadn’t just complied. She had gone for it. Extraordinary. He had wanted to go back for her the next day. How he had wanted to, he just hadn’t dared after what had happened. Strange how well he could remember the sensations of that night. Two years on and he could still smell and taste her.