Missing Pieces. K L Harrison

attention of the Swindon players. Joanne Grant was not quite so excited.

      Mario Corelli had been playing for Swindon for two years, having moved from the Serie B side Catania in Italy.

      “He was strange man, real strange. You know, after game, always went to his car, drove away. We made joke about him, he the man who never showers. But he was a good player, we could do with him now. I am very sad what happened to him.”

      Ray Francombe was the Swindon goalkeeper.

      “Yeah, I liked him. I’d met him before when I played for Millwall. We played Norwich at Carrow Road, lost three nil. Alan scored a beauty, gave me no chance. I was glad when he arrived but he never mixed much with the boys. Never came out with us, didn’t drink, nothing wrong with that, and I don’t think he had a girlfriend. Often used to drive up to London. Maybe he had a girl up there.

      Each of the players told a similar story. Alan Ramsay was a good player, likeable but a private person who seemed to spurn the camaraderie usually associated with football teams.

      When Ferguson went into the medical room, Angela Rodwell had just completed some physio on Manuel Silva’s right leg. Apparently he had received a bad knock in the previous game. They made their introductions.

      “Oh don’t look so surprised Sergeant. This is the 21stCentury. Women can do anything and work anywhere now you know.”

      Ferguson was taken aback; Angela Rodwell had read his mind.

      “I would like to ask you about Alan Ramsay if I might.”

      “Ah Alan, incredible. One of those things you just cannot comprehend. He was a nice guy, quiet, not rowdy like some of the boys, a good player too.”

      “Can you tell me anything about his fitness, injuries, any health issues?”

      “Sergeant, you’re not asking me to divulge confidential information are you?”

      Ferguson gave her a look that said, “Of course I am.”

      “No, not at all, just some general comments.”

      Angela Rodwell provided a general run-down of Alan Ramsay’s condition, even commenting on his pre-signing medical. Ferguson did not hear anything he did not expect to hear.

      “Miss Rodwell, the Oxford police told us that when they examined his body, they found welts across his backside, as if he had been caned. Had you ever noticed this sort of thing?”

      “I did ask him about it. He tried to laugh it off, and said it was just a bit fun with a lady he knew.”

      “But you weren’t convinced.”

      “I assume nothing we say here is going to end up in the Evening Advertiser Sergeant? Sorry, of course not. To me it seemed he was being, what can I say, beaten, on a regular basis. Look, I have no problem with people indulging in a bit of kink if that’s their thing, but some of the marks seemed quite heavy.”

      “Did you tell the manager?”

      “No, Alan begged me to keep it between us. Sergeant, he was otherwise in good condition, fit, and playing well. His private life was his own affair, and as long as it wasn’t affecting the club, I didn’t think I should get involved.”