“You didn’t have a camera. Besides, reporters wouldn’t get in a car with a police officer. They might not get let out again.”
“Is there a Mr Mitchell?” Hazel said.
“Yes, but he didn’t see anything so there’s not much point talking to him. He’s at work anyway.”
The house, inside was clean and tidy. Hazel assumed no one here had any children. “What does your husband do?” She was led through to the lounge. The Trent’s were well equipped with modern electronic gadgets. Desk computer, laptop, a tablet on a coffee table. 3D smart TV with several boxes plugged in.
“He’s involved in banking the same as I am.” Helen said, “Have a seat…what was your name again?”
“Sergeant Vernon.” Hazel said, sitting down, “Crime Squad.”
“Does that mean the police are finally taking Gloria’s death seriously? Now that little bitch got away with murder.”
Hazel sat. Helen sat opposite.
“Do you believe the police didn’t take it seriously?” Hazel wasn’t sure of that accusation. Though unprofessional and incompetent were words that sprang readily to mind.
“The idiot detective they sent last time wasn’t much use.” Helen said, “Detective Sergeant something or other.”
“White?”
“Might have been. Sounds about right.” Helen dismissed Sergeant White’s memory casually. “He had his own ideas. I don’t think he cared what I told him.”
Hazel was now not at all surprised Hannah McShane had been acquitted. Hazel was starting to think she could have got the girl off given the mess the local CID had made of it all.
If Hannah was here at all, said a cautious voice at the back of her head. Remember the last witness and how reliable he turned out to be.
“What can you tell me, Ms Trent?” Hazel said.
“I can tell you I saw that little tralk running away being chased by the security guard. I saw her from my bedroom window.”
“About what time?”
“Quarter to three, more or less. I noticed the clock alarm.”
“You were awake at that time in the morning?”
“Of course I wasn’t awake. The shouting woke me up. Outside in the street. I was asleep and I was woken up by a lot of voices shouting in the street outside. So I went to see what all the fuss was. I looked out of the window and in the street I saw that girl running away. The security guard was chasing her. She had a head start on him though so she got away.”
“Round the corner?”
“I expect so, you can’t see too clearly from the angle I was at.” Helen said.
“But you recognised Hannah McShane?” Hazel said. “Have you ever seen her before?”
“Why would I have seen her before?”
“Has she ever been here before?”
Helen Trent looked offended, “Does this look like the sort of place that would have someone like that around? Of course she wasn’t here before. That’s what I told the other detective. Not that he took any notice.”
So far Hazel had unreliable witnesses giving contradictory evidence. Helen Trent was far more believable than Thomas Mitchell but not by a lot.
“You’ve never seen Hannah McShane here?”
“Never. I hope never to see her anywhere else ever again.”
“What was Gloria Kelsey like?” Hazel said.
“Very nice, a lovely woman. She was a photographer. She had a studio in town. On Lewton Street. I saw a bit of her now and then. She’d come to the residents association meetings every month.”
“Have you ever been to her house?”
“Frequently.” Helen said. “She was a very sociable woman.”
“Have you ever met any of her friends?”
“One or two. I dropped in one evening and had a word with her and a lovely woman vicar. Scottish church, you know.”
Hazel didn’t know and wasn’t really a believer. “Anyone else?”
“Apart from the neighbours, oh there were a few people. I think she had friends over on a regular basis. At the end of the month. There were always a few cars here. Nothing big or rowdy, you know. But that was Gloria. Very sociable. She’d have the neighbours round every now and then.”
“Did you know any of her friends? The ones that would come round to see her?”
“Well there was her daughter, of course. Karen. She’s a student. Studying… I forget what. She came round quite a lot. Lovely girl. I don’t know why she doesn’t live here. She has a caravan up at the caravan park. Young people will have their independence won’t they?”
Hazel nodded. At thirty four she hardly considered herself old.
“Alan Fairburn came every month. With his wife.”
“The politician?” Hazel said. Fairburn was the Federal Party member of parliament for the area. “You sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. You do know Gloria did all the advertising material for his campaign, don’t you?”
Hazel didn’t know and said so.
“Yes, she’s been a member of the Federal Party for…well…I don’t know how long but it’s been years.”
“I didn’t know she was politically active.”
“You make it sound dangerous.”
Hazel considered the low opinion she, and many others, held of politicians. “Did you ever meet him? Or his wife?”
“No, well, not at Gloria’s of course. I wouldn’t impose like that. I’ve met Mr Fairburn in his surgery a few times and his wife, of course, is involved with a lot of charities. She’s the daughter of Lord Brougham you know.” Helen correctly pronounced the name as “Broom”
“I did know that.”
“Yes, she’s involved in a lot of good works. The women’s refuge place across the railway. I think that vicar Gloria knew runs it. She said something or other about it anyway. It’s not just women. Some of them are homeless girls or girls that have found themselves in some kind of trouble. Wouldn’t surprise me if the bitch that killed her was one of them. I bet they’re all on drugs. That’s what happens when you help these people. They bite the hand that feeds them People like that don’t know any better you see.”
“I’ll remember that.” Hazel said. But it was an interesting idea all the same. If any girl qualified as disturbed it would be Hannah McShane. “Do you know any of the other people?”
“No, they seemed very nice. They had expensive cars. But who they are and where they come from I don’t know.”
“Did Ms Kelsey have any other regular visitors?”
“She often had people over, but I wouldn’t say regular visitors.”
“There wasn’t a Mr Kelsey then?”
“Her husband. No. He went off with his secretary or someone ages ago. She was probably better off without him.”
“Did she have a regular boyfriend?”
“You know, I don’t know.” For once Helen’s certainly faltered. “She never said anything about anyone in particular. I never saw her go out with anyone in particular.”
“Would