The man is described as 6'1", medium build, aged between 30 and 40, with straight blond hair. He was wearing fawn cotton slacks, a checked shirt, and dark green ribbed sweater. The woman was 5'4", slim build, aged between 30 and 40, with short dark hair. She was wearing blue denim jeans and a navy blue T-shirt.
Police admit to being puzzled as to how the bodies came there. "There are no reports of a car being abandoned in the area," said the spokesman, "and the woods are not on a bus route, We believe someone must have driven them there, and we are asking anyone who gave a lift to a couple answering these descriptions to come forward, ft is possible that they hitched a ride from outside the county."
Police have not ruled out a suicide pact, although they are concerned that neither body carries any form of identification. "This is unusual,"' said the spokesman. "We would have expected to find a wallet or a handbag." The woods continue to be searched for fui-ther evidence.
Mrs. Mary Hughes, 73, who discovered the bodies with Pepita, her Jack Russell, is recovering at home following a slight heart attack. She ran over a mile to the nearest telephone to alert police, and blames the attack on shock and overexertion. "I should have walked," she said. "I'm an old woman now and those bodies weren't going anywhere. There's no fool like an old fool."
Wessex Post-24th June
*6*
FRIDAY, 24th JUNE, THE VICARAGE, LITTLETON MARY, WILTSHIRE-11:00 A.M.
The Reverend Charles Harris watched from his study window as the white Rolls Royce-registration number KIN6-pulled in through the vicarage gates and parked by the front door. The number plate said it all. By the strategic placing of a yellow-headed screw to break the six and turn it into a G, the word KING screamed out from both ends of the ostentatious vehicle. Not for the first time, he wondered how Jinx had remained so apparently unaffected by her vulgar family, and not for the first time either, he berated himself for being uncharitable.
His dismay grew when the chauffeur opened the back door and assisted Betty Kingsley out. Adam he might have coped with, but Betty was a different matter altogether, particularly when, as was clearly the case now, she had been hitting the bottle hard during the journey. With a sigh, he opened the door of his study and called to his wife. "Caroline, we have a visitor. Betty Kingsley has just driven in."
His wife appeared in the kitchen doorway, a look of apprehension on her thin face. "I don't want to see her," she said. "I can't stand it, Charles. It was bad enough talking to her on the phone. She'll just start screaming at me again."
"I don't think we have a choice."
"Of course we do," she snapped, frayed nerves getting the better of her, "There's no law that says we have to answer the door. We can hardly be blamed because Leo preferred our daughter." The doorbell rang. "Just ignore it," she hissed at him. "I won't be harangued by a common fishwife in my own home."
But he was an old-fashioned man with old-fashioned manners. He shook his head in gentle admonishment and crossed the hall to open the front door. "Hello, Betty," he said kindly. She stank of gin, and her lipstick was smeared at one corner. There was something infinitely sad, he thought, about the worn face covered in makeup and the plump body squeezed into a girlish dress. Growing old would always be something to fear because drink had addled whatever wisdom she had, and now there was nothing left to make her interesting.
She pushed past him belligerently to confront Caroline, bumping into a walnut card table as she did so and slopping water from the vase of flowers onto the polished surface. "It's your slut of a daughter drove Jinx to kill herself, not me or her daddy," she grunted, jabbing her finger at the other woman. "She'd never need to kill herself because of us. You've got me that riled, Mrs. High-and-bloody-Mighty. You think you can say what you like about me and mine, when the truth is it's your precious Meg deserves the blame."
Caroline Harris glanced helplessly towards her husband. This is your fault, said her expression, so do something about it, but he gave an unhappy shrug and left her to fight the battle alone. "I really can't see the point of discussing this," she said in a voice that was pitched too high. "Far too much dirt has been peddled already."
"Yes, well, Meg always said you were a tight-arsed bitch who'd rather see everything swept under the carpet than have it aired in public." Betty clutched at the table with a meaty fist and affected a classy accent. " 'Oh, I say, I can't see the point of discussing this.' " She took a deep breath. "But you fucking well discuss it when it suits you. 'Now, now, Betty, don't go blaming Meg for your own failings. Jinx needs a mother to talk to.' " She slammed the table and set the vase rocking alarmingly. "Well, she's got a bloody mother. Me."
"But probably not the one she wants," said Caroline icily. "You were very offensive over the telephone, Betty. You called us murderers before you even knew if Jinx was dead. What did you expect me to do? Agree with you? Charles and I barely had time to digest the news that Leo had left Jinx for Meg before you were on the phone screaming abuse. It's been a terrible shock for all of us."
"Where's the apology? The apology's what I'm after, Mrs., or perhaps you're too grand for that?" Tears welled in the heavily mascaraed eyes. "You know what's being said? The wedding's off because Sir Anthony Wallader wouldn't have his son marry a Kingsley. And why? Because we're too bloody common." She gulped her tears. "But there's only one rotten apple in the barrel and I've a mind to make that public. Your Meg, who couldn't keep her knickers on if she was paid."
Caroline Harris's lips thinned to an unattractive horseshoe, but before she could say anything, the vicar intervened. He placed a hand on Betty Kingsley's arm and drew her round to face him. "Is this true, Betty?" He smiled apologetically. "We know so little, you see. Only what Meg told us over the phone and, in all conscience, that wasn't very much. Just that Leo preferred her to Jinx and they were leaving for a holiday in France."
The woman's thick lips worked aggressively. "Why should me and the boys take the blame for your daughter's screwing?" she slurred drunkenly. "Adam says we've ruined Jinx's chances with our goings-on, but I can't see it myself. Leo's a right bastard- like his father-but we did nothing to upset the applecart." She took a deep breath. "Not our fault," she resumed after a moment. "Meg's jealous, always has been. Sets out to bed anyone Jinx likes. Common is as common does. Bedded Russell, in case you didn't know."
Charles turned a shocked face towards his wife but Caroline looked away and refused to meet his eyes. "I didn't know," he said. "I'm sorry."
HO FORENSIC LAB, HAMPSHIRE-11:30 A.M.
Dr. Robert Clarke, the Home Office pathologist, took pity on the three policemen and herded them out of the laboratory and into his office, peeling off his gloves and mask as he did so. "Not a pretty sight," he agreed, opening his window to allow in the sweeter-smelling air of the busy road outside, "but sealing both caboodles in body bags and spraying with Nuvanstykil is the only way to kill the maggots off and make what's left presentable enough to examine. Coffee?" he suggested.
The three men swallowed convulsively, and wondered how he could consider taking anything into his mouth after what they had glimpsed going on inside the bags. The stench of putrefaction still lined their throats, as it had done since yesterday when they had stood beside the ditch and stared in gagging repulsion at the pulsating white mass seething turbulently amongst the pieces of clothing and decomposing body parts that lay there. They shook their heads vigorously.