Death's Door

Six

‘This is all right,’ said Detective Constable Tarvil Singh, as he looked around the room, ‘apart from the noise of the kids next door. What’s this place called?’

‘Gullane Village Hall,’ DS Ray Wilding replied, ‘simple as that. The playgroup doesn’t last all day, and it was a lot easier to borrow this office than to bring a mobile unit down. And, by the way, it’s a truly sad bastard who hardens his heart against the joyous sound of children at play.’

‘Spoken like a single man. I’m well familiar with that sound, believe me. I get plenty of it at home.’ A wooden seat gave an ominous creak as he settled his massive frame into it. ‘Where do we start?’ he asked.

‘We’ve started,’ said the sergeant. ‘We’ve got uniformed officers down on the beach and in the car park behind it, interviewing people, looking to find those that go there every day, showing them the photo and asking if they know who she is. You and I are going to do the rounds of the pubs in Gullane, Aberlady, Dirleton and North Berwick to see if she’s recognised in any of them.’

‘What about the DI? Where’s he?’

‘He’s down at the bents, briefing the uniforms and getting them under way.’

‘What about the golf club? He doesn’t really think there could be a link there, does he?’

‘Of course not,’ a voice from the doorway exclaimed. Stevie Steele stepped into the room. ‘We had to check out the possibility that the victim might have been brought to the scene using the road that runs across the course, but that’s been eliminated. I spoke to the secretary last night, and to the steward and the head greenkeeper. There’s a gate at the top of the road, beside the clubhouse, and it’s padlocked overnight. The greenkeeper’s an early bird: he was there at seven, and he didn’t unlock the gate till eight.’

‘Could somebody have opened it before seven?’ Wilding asked. ‘Picked the padlock?’

‘Then locked it again on his way out? Hardly, but if he’d tried, the steward would have seen or heard him: he was up early too. I showed all three of them the girl’s picture, but none of them recognised her.’ He looked at Singh. ‘Tarvil, if we don’t have her identified by this afternoon, I want you to have some posters done. We’ll put them up in shops, hotels, banks, pubs, clubs and post offices in all the coastal towns.’

‘Will do, boss. Pubs first, though, yes?’

‘Absolutely. I want an identification this morning, if possible. This girl didn’t parachute in here. Somebody saw her before she was killed.’ Steele headed for the door once again. ‘Come on, let’s get to work.’

‘Are you going to help us, sir?’

The DI grinned at Singh. ‘You think I don’t get my hands dirty any more? You two split up: there’s three hotels and one pub in Gullane, two coffee places, and other shops all along the main street, so do half each. I’ll talk to the post office and the bank staff, after I’ve made my priority call on the local VIP.’

‘Who’s that? The wee actor chap?’

‘No, Tarvil,’ Steele chuckled, ‘more important than him, as far as we’re concerned. I’m going to see the DCC, as per the head of CID’s order. He might not have asked to be kept informed, but we’re going to do him that courtesy anyway … and show him the picture while we’re at it.’