Free Pretty Maids All In A Row by Anthea Fraser Page B

comes a chopper to chop—off —-your—head.'
    'Except,' said Fleming drily, 'that her head wasn't chopped off. She was suffocated, Stapleton tells me, probably with a pillow. And this was stuffed in the pocket of her dress.'
    'Where was the body found, sir?'
    'In a dried-up ditch off the Heatherton-Marlton road.' 'No ID on her, I suppose?'
    'Right. Woman in her late thirties, quite attractive—or she would have been. Height five foot six, weight nine stone, hair dyed blonde, eyes blue. No distinguishing marks.'
    'I'll check with Missing Persons. How long has she been dead?'
    Stapleton spoke for the first time. 'Tell me when she was last seen, and I'll hazard a guess!' 'Roughly, sir?'
    'Judging by the maggots, about ten days.'
    'From which you'll gather we can't issue a photograph. So have a quick look at her, Spider, and do one of your artist's impressions to pass to the press. At the very least, it'll give an idea of her hairstyle and the shape of her face. Someone might come forward.'
    Webb grimaced. 'Hope my Sunday lunch stays down.'
    'Sorry, but you're the best artist we have. Saw one of your cartoons in the Weekly News. Damn good.'
    'Thank you, sir. Mike Romilly twists my arm every now and then.'
    Half an hour later, his visit to the dead thankfully behind him, Webb sat at his desk drawing his impression of her. His forte lay in cartoons and landscapes; his portraiture was less certain, but he was doing his best, and under his pencil the dead face was coming alive. He could only hope the resemblance was sufficiently strong for someone to recognize her.
    And someone did. With the introduction of murder, the national press showed more interest, and when Kathy opened her paper at breakfast the next morning, Freda Cowley's face was staring up at her. Above it, heavy black newsprint demanded, 'Do you know this woman?'
    Kathy dropped the paper, her hands flying to her mouth. 'Guy! Guy! Come quickly!'
    He husband dashed downstairs, swung round the newelpost and hurried into the kitchen. 'What is it? What's happened? You sounded—' He broke off, staring down at the paper on the table. 'Dead? Oh my God!'
    Kathy said tremblingly, 'No wonder she disappeared without telling anyone. And when I think what I said about her!'
    Guy put an arm round her and bent to read the newsprint. 'Found in a ditch yesterday—dead about ten days. That's just when she disappeared, isn't it, ten days ago?' He could feel his wife shaking, and his arm tightened. 'Sit down, love, and have a drink of coffee. I'll pour it for you.'
    'They don't know who she is. We'll have to phone and tell them.'
    'Probably half Westridge has been on by now.' 'All the same, we'll have to.'
    Guy hesitated. ‘I suppose we are sure it's Freda? I mean—'
    'Of course we are. They describe her dress, too.' Kathy's eyes filled. 'Guy, I was with her when she bought it, at Faversham's.'
    'All right, all right. Who do I have to ring?'
    'It's a Shillingham number.'
    She held her coffee-cup with both hands, taking tiny sips of the scalding liquid and trying to stop herself from shaking. Out in the hall, she could hear her husband dialling, then his voice with a slight tremor in it.
    'I'm ringing about the sketch in this morning's paper. We think we know who the woman is. Her name is Mrs Freda Cowley, of Hinckley's Cottage, Westridge.'
    CHAPTER 6
    The man looked shaken, Webb reflected, but that was only natural. His wife, too. Striking-looking woman, with those unusual eyes.
    'So you'd no personal dealings with Mrs Cowley, sir?' 'None whatever. I dealt with the agents, Bayliss of Marlton.'
    'You say you were up the previous week. You didn't meet her then?'
    'No, the cottage wasn't available at the time. The agent phoned a couple of days later.'
    'And you took it sight unseen? That was quite a risk, wasn't it, when it's to be your home for a month? Even more so, since your wife has special requirements at the moment.'
    'I checked there was a downstairs lavatory. That was our only