Golden Mile to Murder by Sally Spencer Read Free Book Online

found himself back in the mill, just as if the war had never happened.’
    â€˜It turned him bitter?’ Woodend suggested.
    â€˜It turned him to
pints
of bitter,’ Turner said. ‘Eight or nine a night – with whisky chasers to follow. Now there’s some men who can take their drink without getting nasty, but Arthur Jones wasn’t one of them. If he was in a bad mood, he took it out on his wife and stepdaughter.’
    â€˜Knocked them about, did he?’
    â€˜We could never prove it,’ Turner said. ‘The mother always came up with a reasonable explanation for the bruises, and however much pressure we put on her, she refused to press charges.’
    No wonder Monika had tensed up when they were discussing wife beating earlier, Woodend thought. It would have been odd if she hadn’t.
    â€˜I expect Blanca thought that however bad life was with Jones, she’d be even worse off without him,’ Turner continued. He clenched his fists into tight, angry balls. ‘Oh, I’d really have liked to nail the bastard.’
    â€˜There’s somethin’ else – beside the beatin’s – isn’t there?’ Woodend guessed.
    Turner nodded gravely. ‘I’m sure the mother never believed this, or she couldn’t have stayed with Jones however bad the alternative was –’ he lowered his voice even though there was no one close enough to hear – ‘but it’s my belief that her stepfather didn’t just hurt Monika – I think he interfered with her. You know . . . sexually.’
    Woodend found himself thinking of his own daughter, Annie, as he always did when he was working on cases which involved kids. If anyone ever dared so much as touch her . . .
    â€˜So you see the point about Monika?’ Turner asked. ‘She’s had a lot to put up with.’
    â€˜Aye, well, maybe I’ll have to give her even more rope than I have already,’ Woodend said. ‘But unless she learns to keep her anger under control – or at least channel it – she’s never goin’ to get anywhere in the force.’
    â€˜She’s made sergeant already,’ Turner pointed out.
    â€˜An’ how much of that did she owe to you – the bobby who felt sorry for her when she was a helpless kid?’ Woodend wondered.
    Turner almost blushed. ‘She’s a good officer,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t have helped her otherwise.’
    Paniatowski had returned from the seafood stall carrying a cardboard tray in her hand. ‘Here’s your prawns, sir,’ she said, her voice expressionless as she held them out to Woodend.
    â€˜They’re not for me,’ Woodend told her. ‘They’re for all of us. Take a couple, Sergeant.’
    â€˜No, thank you, sir.’
    â€˜Bring you out in a rash, do they?’
    â€˜No, but –’
    â€˜Then take a couple. You’ll soon learn that when you’re working with me, you grab a snack whenever you get the chance.’
    With another show of reluctance, the sergeant picked out a prawn and, conscious that Woodend’s eyes were still on her, popped it into her mouth.
    â€˜That’s the advantage of bein’ the underling,’ Woodend told her. ‘You might have to do the fetchin’ and carryin’, but if there’s a price to pay, it’s not usually you that pays it.’
    He wasn’t just talking about the prawns, Monika sensed – he was laying out what he saw as a working relationship.
    Woodend offered the prawns to Turner. The local man took a couple of them, then said, ‘Now that you’ve seen where the body was found, shall I take you to your digs?’
    â€˜Not too far from the scene of the crime, are they?’ Woodend asked.
    â€˜No, as a matter of fact, you can see them from here,’ Turner replied. He pointed across the sands, over the sea wall and along the promenade. ‘That’s it