Blood on the Cowley Road Read Online Free PDF

acting on those observation. When Miss Turner mentioned one Friday that her father wasn’t very well, he made a Get Well card and gave it to her the following Monday. When she lost a parrot earring, it was he who found it under her desk. And when he once arrived early in class and found her already there, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, he withdrew silently, shut the door firmly behind him, and stood on guard, refusing to let anyone else in until Miss Turner herself came and opened the door.
    So the greenhorn Detective Constable who sat in the Inspector’s office that morning was a man who had learnt to observe and notice both objects and people. He noticed that there was no picture on the rather bleak desk, and he wondered if that meant that DI Holden had no partner (or did she prefer not to advertise her private life). He took in the dark, discreetly striped trouser suit, the white blouse and the stud earrings, but drew no particular conclusions about her from them. He recognized the scent she was wearing, but couldn’t quite place it. And, looking around the room, he observed that she had made no attempt to stamp her personality, her ownership on it. Was it just a matter of not having had time over the last week, or was it significant of something in the way she viewed work and her work environment?
    â€˜So where are we with Sarah Johnson?’
    If Holden’s words had taken Wilson by surprise, the same could not be said of Fox. ‘We’ve interviewed the student Bicknell, and her sister, Anne Johnson. Bicknell claims not to have spoken to her, but he has given me copies of all the photos he took that morning, including three of her looking at his plaque.’
    â€˜And the sister?’ queried Holden, with a hint of impatience in her tone.
    â€˜She confirmed that Sarah was a manic depressive. She admitted that she hadn’t actually spoken to her for about three weeks, and hadn’t seen her for some time, but she did say that Sarah had been in reasonable spirits three weeks prior to her death.’
    â€˜Three weeks,’ Holden echoed. She pressed the first finger of her left hand on her forehead between her eyes, and shut her eyes briefly, trying to focus on this information. ‘What do you make of that,
Wilson?’ she said, again catching Wilson off guard.
    He blushed slightly. ‘Well,’ he said uncertainly, ‘I suppose, given the cyclical nature of manic depression, highs followed by lows’ – Wilson was feeling his way here – ‘and given that this was three weeks before her death, it isn’t at all inconsistent with her having jumped—’
    Wilson’s stumbling sentence was cut short by Holden. ‘As evidence goes, it proves nothing. Quite right.’ She turned now to Fox. ‘What next then Derek?’
    â€˜I want to interview Jake. He’s a worker at the day centre. She tried to ring him the morning of her death three times. He should be able to clarify her state of mind.’
    â€˜Good,’ Holden said, nodding her head. ‘Anything else?’
    â€˜Danny turned up at the flat when we were interviewing Anne.’
    Holden looked puzzled. ‘Danny?’ she queried.
    â€˜You know,’ Fox continued, ‘mad Danny Flynn, from the day centre.’
    â€˜Ah, yes. Of course. What did he want?’
    â€˜He said someone had been following Sarah.’
    The DI laughed, again catching Wilson off his balance. ‘Sounds about par for the course, for Danny.’
    â€˜Yes,’ admitted Fox.
    â€˜Nevertheless,’ she said firmly, ‘we do need to be sure that it was suicide.’
    Â 
    Anne Johnson’s first reaction on seeing the place where her sister had plummeted to her death was to turn on her heel and run. But that would have been difficult. She had dressed up for the occasion – a white blouse, a discreet dark-blue skirt, and moderately high heels – and given that