Free Charisma by Jo Bannister Page B

side of eight; the boy, who was on a year’s youth-training course, followed them in ten minutes later; and the gaffer, exercising the privileges of rank and age, arrived after the police, at about eight twenty-five. The big man, Arnie Sedgewick, had seen the white pony, complete with rider, trotting along the bridleway as he drove his van into the council yard. He thought that might have been about five to eight.
    Liz nodded. That agreed with what Mrs Skinner said, that Alice rode out of the yard at about seven-forty and should have been back by eight-twenty in order to feed her pony, change and catch the bus down the hill at eight-forty. The council yard was half-way on her three-mile ride.
    â€˜You didn’t see anyone else?’
    â€œFraid not. Only the other lads, until the police arrived and told us to wait here.’
    â€˜What about you, Mr Carver?’

    The young man shook his head. ‘I never saw nobody.’
    â€˜Except the girl.’
    â€˜I never saw her neither.’
    Liz frowned. ‘The bicycle in the council yard, isn’t that yours?’ He nodded, warily. ‘Surely it takes you longer to cycle through the park than it takes Mr Sedgewick in his van? If you arrived four minutes behind him, he must have passed you on the bridleway. Didn’t he?’
    Ray Carver eyed her sullenly. ‘I don’t remember where he passed me. He passes me on the road just outside or just inside the park every day: I don’t remember where this morning.’
    Liz said reasonably, ‘It wasn’t much over an hour ago.’
    â€˜A lot’s happened in that hour, though, hasn’t it?’ he snapped back. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t remember where Arnie passed me. But I do know I didn’t see the kid on the pony.’
    â€˜All right,’ said Liz quietly. ‘So maybe they were off the lane and in the bushes when you passed. That would mean you passed the spot where Alice Elton was killed within moments of the attack on her, possibly while it was taking place – while the man was still there. The pony was loose, it was on the lane when I found it; if it was still in the bushes when you passed then the attack could only just have occurred. So anything you tell me, Mr Carver, is terribly important. Was there anyone else around?’
    â€˜I didn’t see anyone. No one.’
    â€˜All right. Did you hear anything – even something that seemed unremarkable at the time but which, looking back, could have been a man moving in the bushes or the child trying to scream? Anything?’
    â€˜Nothing. I’m sorry. I’d help you if I could but I can’t. I’d be lying if I said I’d noticed anything.’ Long dark hair tumbled over his forehead and he tossed it back out of his eyes. His gaze on her was intense. ‘I can’t help you catch this man by saying I saw something I didn’t.’
    â€˜No, of course not,’ she agreed automatically. But though there was nothing impossible about his account she was left feeling that Carver had told her less than the whole truth. She thought she’d talk to him again soon, at the police station next time.
    No one else had anything to add. All of them had seen Alice Elton riding in the park, sometimes alone, sometimes with friends, but only Sedgewick admitted seeing her take her last ride. It was enough: it made it possible to say that the attack took place in
the ten minutes between seven-fifty-five when Sedgewick saw her and five past eight when Liz found the pony. The best pathologist in the country couldn’t have been that precise.
    Â 
    Liz left Detective Constable Stewart taking statements and returned home. After the activity of the last hour the place seemed unnaturally quiet, abandoned almost.
    She found Brian in the living-room, drinking tea. He looked up and his face was still. ‘It’s just brewed. Sit down for five minutes.’ He padded into the