[Wexford 01] From Doon & Death Read Online Free PDF Page A

Inspector, as your own garage drive, but nobody respects privacy these days. I don't think any of the local lads and lasses come up here on foot The fields are much more - well, salubrious, shall we say? We do get cars up here. You could stick a car under those overhanging branches and anyone could pass quite close to it at night without even seeing it was there ’
    ‘I was wondering if you'd noticed any unfamiliar tyre marks between now and Tuesday, sir?'
    'Oh, come!' Prewett waved a not very horny hand up towards the entrance to the lane and Burden saw what he meant The lane was all tyre marks; in fact it was the tyre marks that made it into a road. The tractors go in and out, the cattle trample it .. ‘
    'But you have a car, sir. Wi th all this coming and going it’ s odd nobody saw anything unusual.'
    'You must remember if s simply used for coming and going. No one hangs about here. My people have all got a job of work to do. They're good lads and they get on with it. In any case you'll have to discount my wife and myself. We've been in London from Monday until this morning and we mostly use the front entrance anyway. The lane's a short cut. Chief Inspector. Ifs fine for tractors but my own vehicle gets bogged down.' He stopped, then added sharply, 'When I'm in town I don't care to be taken for a horny-handed son of toil.'
    Wexford examined the lane for himself and found only a morass of deeply rutted trenches zig-zagged with the tread marks of tractor tyres and deep round holes made by hoofs. He decided to postpone talking to Prewett’ s four men and the girl agricultural student until the time of Mrs Parsons' death had been fixed.
    Burden went back to Kingsmarkham to break the news to Parsons because he knew him. Parsons opened the door numbly, moving like a sleepwalker. When Burden told him, standing stiffly in the dining-room with the dreadful books, he said nothing, but closed his eyes and swayed.
    ' ‘I’ll fetch Mrs Johnson,' Burden said. ‘I’ll get her to make you some tea.'
    Parsons just nodded. He turned his back and stared out of the window. With something like horror Burden saw that the two pairs of socks were still pegged to the line.
    I'd l ike to be alone for a bit ’
    'Just the same, I'll tell her. She can come in later.'
    The widower shuffled his feet in khaki-coloured slippers.
    'All right,' he said. 'And thanks. You're very good.'
    Back at the station Wexford was sitting at his desk looking at the burnt matchstick. He said musingly:
    'You know, Mike, it looks as if someone struck this to get a good look at her. That means after dark. Someone held it until it almost burnt his fingers.'
    'Bysouth?'
    Wexford shook his head.
    'It was light, light enough to see - everything. No, whoever struck that match wanted to make sure he hadn't left anything mcriminating behind him' He slipped the piece of charred wood into an envelope. 'How did Parsons take it?' he asked.
    'Difficult to say. Ifs always a shock, even if you're expecting it He's so doped up on what the doctor's giving him he didn't seem to take it in ’
    'Crocker's doing the post-mortem now. Inquest at ten on Saturday ’
    'Can Crocker fix the time of death, sir?'
    'Some time on Tuesday. I could have told him that . She must have been killed between half twelve and -what time did you say Parsons rang you on Tuesday night?'
    'Exactly half past seven. We were going to the pictures and I was keeping an eye on the time.' 'Between half twelve and seven-thirty, then ’ That brings me to my theory, sir ’ 'Let's have it I haven't got one ’
    'Well, Parsons said he got home at six but no one saw him. The first anyone knew he was in the house was when he phoned me at half past seven ...'
    'Okay, I'm listening. Just stick your head out of the door and get Martin to fetch us some tea.'
    Burden shouted for tea and went on:
    'Well, suppose Parsons killed her. As far as we know she doesn't know anyone else around here and, as you always say, the husband