direction, towards Brookham, and that doesn’t make sense, unless you take Wright’s view that he was confused, in a panic, and didn’t know which way he was heading.’
‘Could there be another explanation?’
‘Yes, it’s possible he heard someone moving towards him through the bushes. And from the same direction he’d come himself, from the fields. Since he was expecting Topper to arrive, that shouldn’t have alarmed him. So if he did run off then – and in the other direction – it could well have been because he saw something that frightened him.’
‘A man carrying a young girl in his arms? The killer?’
Madden nodded mutely.
Sinclair let out a sigh. The morning was growing warm. He took off his homburg and fanned his face. ‘What you say is interesting, John. But supposition, just the same.’
‘No more so than Wright’s version. All the evidence is circumstantial.’
‘Yes, but you can’t overlook the fact he’s disappeared. This Beezy. Gone into hiding. That’s not the behaviour of an innocent man.
‘It’s the behaviour of a tramp, Angus. An outcast. I know these men. They’ve no faith in the courts or our system of justice. It’s quite possible he’s afraid of going to the police in case he’s charged with the crime himself. And he wouldn’t be far wrong.’
Sinclair grunted as the shaft went home. ‘Very well. But I’m still at a loss. As I understand it, either way the Surrey police must find this man. That’s not a job for the Yard. Why did you suggest to Boyce that he get in touch with us?’
Madden was slow in responding. He stared at the ground before him. As the silence between them lengthened, Sinclair felt a premonition growing in him. He knew he hadn’t yet discovered the true reason behind the other man’s concern. But he thought the moment might be approaching.
‘You saw the photographs of the girl’s face?’ Madden looked up.
‘What remained of it. The degree of damage inflicted is unique in my experience. I can only imagine the killer was in a frenzy.’
‘Perhaps. But did you note what a thorough job he did?’
‘Thorough?’ Sinclair showed distaste at the word.
‘He set out to obliterate her features. That’s what it looked like. This wasn’t simple abuse of a victim’s body. It was something more. Has it been determined yet what was used in the way of a weapon? I spoke to the pathologist a few days ago and he seemed to think it might have been a hammer.’
‘That’s confirmed now.’ Sinclair nodded. ‘I read it in the file. He was able to take some measurements from holes made in the cranium. He believes a common workman’s tool was used.’ He shot a glance at Madden. ‘There’s no reason why the tramp shouldn’t have had one in his bundle.’
‘Agreed. Whereas, if the killer was someone else, someone who picked her up off the road in his car, then the implication becomes quite different.’
The chief inspector took some moments to assure himself he had understood his former partner correctly. He didn’t like the direction their conversation was taking. ‘You’re wondering – if it was someone else – why he should have had a hammer with him at all. Supposing that’s the case, what does it signify to you?’
‘That the assault on her face was planned.’ Madden spoke quietly, but his voice had grown tense, and the chief inspector, feeling a sudden chill, glanced at him sharply. ‘It was what he had in mind all along.’
Sinclair removed a handkerchief from his lapel pocket and dabbed at his perspiring brow. The crowd on the green was beginning to converge on the judges’ table, spreading in their direction, and instinctively he moved a little closer to Madden, lowering his voice.
‘I want to be clear about this. You’re suggesting he was following a pattern? That he’s done this sort of thing before?’
Madden nodded mutely.
‘But surely, if that’s the case, it would have come to our notice. A crime of that
Learning to Kill: Stories