Murder Killing
8. Murder on BexhilL Beach
I remember when I woke up on the morning of July 25. It was about 07:30.
Poirot stood beside my bed, slowly shaking my shoulders. His gaze brought me from half-consciousness to the ability to think again well.
”What's up?” I hurried to sit down. The answer is very simple, but various kinds of emotions are behind the three words he said.
”It happened again.”
”What?” my yelling. ”You mean but today is the 25.”
”It happened last night or dawn this morning.” After I jumped out of bed and rushed to the bathroom, Poirot briefly repeated what he had just learned over the phone. ”The body of a young girl has been found at Bexhill Beach. Elizabeth Barnard, a waitress at one of the cafeterias, lives with her parents in a small, newly built bungalow. The medical examination estimated the occurrence of death between 23.30 and 01.00.”
”They are sure this is a crime we are worried about?” I asked, while quickly cleaning my face.
”A ABC that opens on the page pointing to Beihill found under the victim's body.”
I shudder.
”Truly terrible!”
”Faites attention, Hastings to attract attention. I don't want a second tragedy to happen in my room!”
I rubbed the blood on my chin violently. ”What are our next plans?” my many.
”The car will pick us up in a moment. I'll get you a cup of coffee here so we don't leave late.”
Twenty minutes later we were already in a police car that sped across the river hames, out of London.
With us is Inspector Crome, who was also present at the meeting two days ago, and was officially in charge of the case.
Crome is a very different officer to Japp. Besides being much younger, the person is quieter and more accomplished. He was highly educated and his knowledge was extensive, but, I think, a little too satisfied with himself. Lately he has received various awards for successfully dealing with a series of child murders, patiently searching for traces of the perpetrator who is now decamped at Broadmoor.
He is indeed a suitable person to handle the case, but I think he is a little too aware of his abilities. His attitude towards Poirot was like an understatement. Like the attitude of a pretentious young man, a smart-ass.
”I have spoken at length with Doctor hompson,”. ”She is very interested in the killing of ’beach’ or ’beri’ which is a product of the mentality of people who have mental disorders. As an expert, of course he can express things better from a medical point of view.” He's mendeham. ”Actually, in my last case I did not know you read it or not, in the case of Mabel Homer, the schoolboy Muswell Hill the Capper was amazing. It is very difficult to accuse him of being the third time! Looks sane like you and me. But there are some test pitfalls in the interview, so it is rather modern of course, which in your day does not yet exist. Once you can persuade people to unlock the secret, you will succeed in ensnaring it! He realizes that you know and immediately collapses his defenses. He then unlocks all his secrets, without exception.”
”Sometimes the same has been done in my day,” said Poirot.
Inspector Crome looked at him and muttered, ”Oh, yes?”
A moment of silence between us. At the
time passing New Cross Station, Crome said, ”If you want to ask about this Bexhill case, I welcome.”
”I don't think you have any idea about the girl who died?”
”She is 23 years old, working as a waitress in Cafeteria Ginger Cat”
”Pass. I wonder if she is beautiful?” ”If about it, I have not been informed,” said Inspector Crome with displeasure. His attitude seemed to say, ”Betul-right these strangers! Everything is the same!”
Poirot stared with a mischievous look.
”Their formula is not important to you? But pour une femme for a woman is actually the most important thing. Even often determines his fate.”
Inspector Crome was silent again. ”Oh yes?” ask him politely.
Back silence.
It was only after almost reaching Sevenoaks that Poirot opened the conversation again.
”Are you informed as to how and with what the girl was strangled?”
Inspector Crome replied briefly.
”Striggered with his own belt made of strong and thick knitted material.”
Poirot's eyes were wide open.
”Aha,” said. ”At last we got one definite information. It shows something, ma'am.
”I haven't seen it,” said Inspector Crome coldly.
I can't wait for the inspector's attitude and his inability to cultivate the imagination.
”It shows how the nature of the perpetrator,” I said. ”That girl's own waist. It shows the savagery of his mind.”
Poirot made an unexpected look. In that gaze was an impatient impression that was expressed comically. I think maybe it's a warning to me, not to be too blatant to speak in front of that inspector.
I'm back in silence.
In Bexhill we were greeted by Inspector Carter. With him was a young inspector with a smart and playful face, named Kelsey. Kelsey was assigned to the case with Crome.
”You need to ask your own questions, Crome,” the police inspector said. ”So I will explain the outline and you can start working immediately.”
”Thank you, Sir,” Crome said.
”We have reported this incident to his father and mother,” the inspector said. ”They are completely in shock. I left them to calm down a bit, before questioning them. So you can start from there.”
”There are other family members, right?” ask Poirot. ”There is a sister of a draftsman
type in London. Already contacted. And there was one
young man I heard actually he had a date with the girl last night.”
”Are the instructions from the ABC guide?” ask Crome.
”There.” The inspector nodded to the table. ”No fingerprints. Open on the page pointing to Bexhill. New books seem to be opening frequently. Not available around here. I have tried in all the bookstores!”
”Who found his body, Sir?”
”A lover of waking up early and fresh air, that is Colonel Jerome. He came out with his dog at 06:00. Walk along the place towards Cooden, then continue to the beach. The dog ran away and sniffed something. Colonel called. The dog did not return. The colonel noticed the place and felt that something was strange. He approached and saw it. Do as you should. Didn't touch it at all and called us right then and there.”
”And at death around midnight, overnight?”
”Between midnight and 01:00 it's almost certain. This cold-blooded murderous clown was the one who kept the promise. If he says the 25th, it's really the 25th, although it might only be a matter of minutes.”
Crome nodded.
”Betul, that's his mentality. There's nothing else? No one saw a clue that could help?”
”As far as we know, no. But it's still morning. Everyone who sees a girl in a white dress, walking with a man last night will soon be asked for information, and I imagine there will be four or five hundred girls in a white dress, walking with a guy last night. It must be a fun job.”
”Alright, sir, I'd better handle it right away,” said Crome. ”There is the address of the cafeteria and the house of the girl. I'd better check both places. Kelsey can come with me.”
”I'll accompany you,” Poirot told Crome with a slight bow.
I think Crome's a little upset. Kelsey, who had seen Poirot before, grinned widely.
One unfortunate thing is that people who see my best friend for the first time tend to take it lightly.
”How about the belt that strangled him?” ask Crome. ”Mr. Poirot took it as a valuable clue. I think he wants to see it.”
”Du tout absolutely no,” quick Poirot review. ”You misunderstood me.”
”You won't benefit from that thing,” Carter said. ”Not a leather belt if the skin must have fingerprints. Only made of knitted silk thread that is rather thick is ideal for the purpose.”
I shudder.
”Mari,” said Crome, ”we should leave.” We leave immediately.
First we visited Ginger Cat. Located on the beach, the cafeteria was an ordinary petite drinking place. There are small tables with orange-box tablecloths and rattan chairs that are not too comfortable to sit on, complete with orange-colored pillows on top. A place to drink that primarily serves visitors for morning coffee, with five types of tea (type Devonshire, Farmhouse, Carlton, with cam-puran fruit, or without mix). There is also hi-dangan lunch for women, such as scrambled eggs, fried shrimp, and macaroni au gratin.
The morning drinking time will begin. The servants rushed us to a separate place that was a bit messy.
”Miss er Merrion?” ask Crome.
Miss Merrion replied in a high, sad, gentle, feminine tone of voice,
”That's my name. What a sad affair. How pathetic. I really can't think how it will affect our efforts!”
Miss Merrion is a thin forty-year-old woman with dry orange hair (it is surprising that like the name of her cafeteria, her personality also resembles a cat). Nervously the woman played the lace and tassels that adorned her work uniform.
”Visitors will definitely explode,” said Inspector
Kelsey is encouraging. ”You can prove my words! You will be overwhelmed serving tea!”
”Excreate,” says Miss Merrion. ”Aglorious materials. Making people desperate.”
Nevertheless, his eyes were radiant.
”Can you tell us about the victim's girl, Miss Merrion.”
”No,” said Miss Merrion firmly. ”Nothing I can tell you!”
”How long has he worked here?”
”It's the second summer since he worked here.” ”Are you satisfied with his work?”
”He is a good server deft and obedient.”
”She's beautiful, isn't she?” ask Poirot.
Miss Merrion turned towards her with a look that seemed to say ”Oh, you stranger.”
”She's a nice girl and looks neat,” she said unfriendly.
”What time is he duty free last night?” ask Crome.
”Jam eight nights. We're closing at 20:00. We don't serve dinner. No requests from customers. For scrambled eggs and tea (Poirot shuddering) people come until seven o'clock, sometimes a bit more the night, but after half-time we are already not so busy anymore.”
”Did he tell you about his plans last night?”
”Of course not,” said Miss Merrion, unhappy with the question. ”I never interfere in people's affairs.”
”Nobody came and took him away? Or that kind of thing?”
”No.”
”Is his attitude mediocre? Not too excited or moody?”
”Truly I do not know,” said Miss Merrion coldly.
”How many servers do you employ?” ”Normally two, and there are two more additions after
20 July to the end of August.”
”But Elizabeth Barnard isn't including any extras?” ”Miss Barnard is a full-time waitress.” ”How about the other server?”
”Miss Higley? She's a fun young lady.”
”Has she and Miss Barnard been friends?” ”I don't know.”
”Maybe we better talk to him.” ”Now?”
”Can also, if you allow.”
”I will call her here,” Miss Merrion said as she rose. ”Please don't take too long. It's the busiest drinking time.”
Miss Merrion, who was soft but agile as a cat, left the room.
”Created,” Comment Inspector Kelsey. He imitated the woman's style. ”True I don't know.”
A fat girl came in with a bit of panting. His hair was dark, his cheeks were reddish, and his black eyes widened excitedly.
”Miss Merrion asked me here,” he said gasping.
”Miss Higley?” ”Ya, right.”
”You know Elizabeth Barnard?”
”Oh, yes, I know Betty. Horrible, right? So horrible! I can't believe it's really happening. I said it to my friends, I can't believe it! ’You know, Friend,’ my word. ’It's not a real thing.’ Betty's! I mean Betty Barnard, who worked here for a long time, was murdered! ’I can't trust him,’ I said. I pinched myself five or six times, maybe I was dreaming. Betty's killed... That's well, you know I mean nothing like a reality.”
”You know the victim well?” ask Crome.
”Well, it worked here longer than me. I just started working in March. He's been since last year. He's kind of quiet, when you know what I mean. He doesn't like to joke or laugh. I mean not really quiet he's also good at funny and very fun but he's not so quiet well but quiet too, if you understand my point.”
I see Inspector Crome is being too patient. As a witness, the fat Miss Higley was very excited. Every statement he repeated until
six times. As a result, the information we get is minimal.
He was not friends with the victim. As one might expect, Elizabeth Barnard considered herself superior to Miss Higley. She is friendly during her working hours, but she is not seen with other girls very often. Elizabeth Barnard has a ”friend” who works at a housing agency near the station. The Court and Brunskill. No, he's not Mr. Court or Mr. Brunskills. He was just a regular officer there. He doesn't know what his name is. But if he saw it he could recognize it. Handsome oh, very handsome, and always well-dressed. There was clearly an envious tone in Miss Higley's words.
So, in short this is how it is. Elizabeth Barnard did not tell her plans last night to anyone in the cafeteria, but according to Miss Higley, she went to see her ”friend”. She wears a white dress, ”amat sweet, with the latest model collar.”
We talked to the other two girls without success. Betty Barnard said nothing about her plans and no one saw her at Bexhill all night.
