Tanya decides it’s time she spoke. ‘The cleaner, Tina Prentice, said that the door was locked from the outside,’ she says, ‘though she did say that, afterwards, she wondered if she’d been mistaken. It was one of those old-fashioned keys. It’s possible Avril could have manipulated it from the inside.’
‘We’ll see what SOCO have to say,’ says Nelson. ‘At the least they’ll be able to tell us if anyone other than Avril and the cleaner touched the door. We should talk to the libraries and the churches. See if the women had any acquaintances in common. Judy, you’re in charge but keep it low key. The other cases might well be suicide, but Avril Flowers is different. If the room was locked from the outside that points to homicide.’
‘It’s a locked room mystery,’ says Tony. ‘Like in the books.’
‘Nothing,’ says Nelson, ‘is like it is in the books.’
Chapter 12
The post-mortem results show that that Avril Flowers, like Samantha Wilson, died from ‘respiratory failure due to chemical overdose’. The scene-of-crime report comes in the next day. The most interesting finding, as far as the team is concerned, is the presence of a third set of fingerprints– besides Avril’s and Tina’s– on the handle and key of Avril’s bedroom door.
‘So someone did lock her in,’ says Tony. He seems fascinated by the case. Judy is finding it rather trying although she tells herself that being keen is not a crime. She was the keen youngster herself once.
‘There was no sign of a struggle,’ says Judy, scrolling through the report on her laptop. ‘Avril was lying peacefully on her bed.’
‘It’s a bungalow,’ says Tanya. ‘Avril could have locked the door and climbed in through the window. It would have been easy with the veranda running all the way round the house.’
Tanya really is obsessed with that veranda, thinks Judy.
‘Why would she do that?’ she says. ‘If Avril was going to commit suicide, why bother to make it look suspicious? And who did the third set of prints belong to?’
‘They don’t belong to anyone on our database,’ says Nelson. ‘That’s all we know. We need to talk to more of Avril’s friends and acquaintances. Judy, did you say she worked part time in the local library?’
‘Yes,’ says Judy. ‘I’ve got an appointment to see the librarian this morning. Avril was a regular churchgoer too. I’m seeing the vicar this afternoon.’
‘Good work,’ says Nelson. ‘Take young Tony with you as he seems to like locked room mysteries so much. Tanya, can you organise some door-to-door? Someone might have seen a stranger hanging around. It’s a nice area. There might even be CCTV.’
‘The average house price is £275,000,’ says Tanya.
Hunstanton Library is a low, modern building in a residential area. It’s nothing like the solid Carnegie-built library in King’s Lynn that Judy remembers from her school days. It looks more like a doctor’s surgery or a primary school.
‘I used to love visiting the library when I was a kid,’ says Tony. ‘My mum took us after school on a Thursday. I remember, when you were ten, you got a green library card which meant you could get six books instead of just three. It seemed the most exciting thing ever.’
Tony always keeps up a steady flow of chat, unless specifically requested to shut up. It’s like wading in his stream of consciousness. Judy knows that Tony was brought up in London and came to Norfolk to attend university. His parents are first-generation Chinese immigrants and he has a brother, Mike, who’s a junior doctor. Tony once told her that he had a sister who died of meningitis as a child, but Lily rarely features in the reminiscences.
‘My parents weren’t big readers,’ says Judy. ‘I can’t remember them ever taking us to the library. I went with the school though.’
‘My parents read in Chinese,’ says Tony. ‘We used to go to Charing Cross Library on Saturday mornings because they had a big Chinese books collection. Sometimes we’d go to the cinema afterwards.’
‘Sounds great,’ says Judy as she parks in front of the library. ‘Remember to let the interviewee get a word in edgeways, won’t you.’
Tony lapses into silence but is soon chatting to the librarian, Emma, about green library cards and Charing Cross.
‘I worked for Westminster Libraries for while,’ says Emma. ‘A funny little place in Mayfair. Interesting readers though.’
Emma is originally from Scotland.
‘It was a bond I had with Avril,’ she says. ‘We were both from near Edinburgh. I just can’t believe she’s gone.’
‘Avril’s death must have been a shock to you,’ says Judy. They are in the children’s section because the library isn’t open yet. It feels odd, talking about death whilst sitting on squashy cubes surrounded by primary-coloured book covers:Elmer the Patchwork Elephant,Spot,Dear Zoo,Happy Birthday, Tiger Twins.
‘It was a terrible shock,’ says Emma, the words bringing out her Scots accent. ‘Avril always seemed so cheerful. I looked forward to her days.’
‘How many days did she work in the library?’ asks Judy.
‘Just two days a week. Usually Mondays and Thursdays. She was a volunteer. We’re relying on them more and more these days. There aren’t enough trained librarians to go round.’
‘What do the volunteers do?’ asks Judy.
