Free Bones Under The Beach Hut by Simon Brett Page A

a
uniformed WPC. The woman didn't say much, and Carole wondered whether she was
just there as some kind of regulation chaperone to her senior colleague. Or
maybe to provide a compassionate touch should their interviewee become
hysterical.
        Though
Carole was far from hysterical. She felt very controlled as she recounted what
she had found on the Tuesday when she opened up Quiet Harbour. She told
the Detective Sergeant about her conversation with Philly Rose in the Crown and
Anchor, and about her dealings with Kelvin Southwest. As she completed each section
of her narrative, she waited for the Detective Sergeant to volunteer some
comment or let slip some vital piece of information. But he was a pro. Each
time he just finished making a note of her last answer and moved on to his next
enquiry.
        Eventually,
as he seemed to be winding up the interview, Carole had to resort to direct
questioning.
        'So
do you know yet how long the human remains had been under the beach hut? And
indeed whether they are the remains of a man or a woman?'
        'I
can assure you, Mrs Seddon, that when it is appropriate for such information to
be released to the general public, you will hear about it in the news media.'
        'But
I just wondered whether—'
        'I am
sure a lot of people - particularly in the Smalting area - are wondering a
great deal about what's just happened. I am sure the coffee mornings of
Fethering are busy with gossip and speculation. But I would remind you, Mrs
Seddon, that when an official police investigation is under way, we are not in
the habit of reporting on its progress to anyone who happens to be interested.'
        Well,
that was a fairly unequivocal put-down. And Carole hadn't liked the reference
to 'coffee mornings', which seemed to consign her to the category of 'gossipy
old woman who has nothing better to do with her time'. What spoilsports the
police could be.
    ----
        

Chapter Eleven
        
        'Look,
this is very hush-hush,' said the voice at the other end of the phone. It took
Carole a moment to recognize that the speaker was Kelvin Southwest.
        'Oh,
really?' she responded without much intonation.
        'Yes.
The fact is, Carole, that. . . well, I'm sure you will be aware from the news
bulletins about the unfortunate discovery under Quiet Harbour.'
        'I
think I'd have had to be bricked into a cell like some unlucky medieval saint
not to have heard about it.'
        'True.'
His tone suggested he wasn't used to people using that kind of analogy. 'Well,
look, Carole, the fact is . . . the police are investigating the circumstances
which may have led to . . . the discovery.'
        'I
would be very surprised if they weren't. When human remains are found it is
quite common for the police to take an interest. They would be failing to do
their duties if they didn't.'
        'Yes.
Yes.' The little man at the other end of the phone sounded awkward and rather
wretched. 'Now, Carole, it's entirely possible that the police will want to
talk to you about the discovery, since you were the one who . . .'
        'I
would expect that, yes.' Some instinct stopped her from revealing to Kelvin
Southwest that she had already been questioned by the police. Wait and see what
he had to say first.
        'Well,
look, Carole, there are certain things that in certain circumstances appear in
one way, but in other circumstances appear in another light altogether, if you
know what I mean.'
        'What
on earth are you talking about?' Carole didn't feel inclined to make the
conversation any easier for him. She didn't mind hearing the little worm
squirming for a minute or two.
        'Well,
erm, the fact is that while doing people favours is an admirable expression of
all that's best in human nature, one doesn't necessarily want everyone to know
when such favours are done.'
        'Are
you saying that you don't want the police to know about you arranging for me