Winter Frost (64 page)

   
"Why did you cover up for him?" asked Frost.

   
"I always covered up for him," she said. "It would have broken his mother's heart if she knew what he was really like. There were photographs . . . filthy photographs . . . Charlie and children . . ."

   
"Where are they?"

   
"I burnt them."

   
"And you sent the anonymous letter with the button?"

   
"Yes."

   
Now Frost was shivering as he looked round the room where Jenny and Vicky had spent the last few terrible moments of their short lives. "I want you to come back to the station with me and make a statement."

   
She shook her head firmly. "No. I told you for your own peace of mind, Inspector Frost, but I'm not making any statements. I shall deny everything I've told you."

   
"Why?" asked Frost. "Charlie's dead, his mother's dead."

   
"I'm not bringing shame on the family."

   
"Sod the family! In half an hour's time I'm going to be pilloried in the coroner's court for hounding an innocent man to death. I could be kicked out of the force."

   
She lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Inspector, but that is how it has got to be."

   
Frost stared at her. She raised her head and stared back, lips tight and determined. She wasn't going to change her mind. Without her statement and without a scrap of evidence in support, he had nothing.

   
"All right," he said bitterly. He was about to go when he saw it. On the window ledge, the window ledge of the room where she had found Jenny's body. A toilet roll. He walked across and picked it up. Nearly new, just a few sheets torn off. He smiled. "On the other hand," he said cheerfully.

   
Outside it was now blowing a blizzard. He was going to be very late for the inquest. But he didn't care.

THE END