Rope Enough (The Romney and Marsh Files Book 1) Read Free

the last thing I remember until I was brought round by someone with smelling salts. Honestly, that’s all I know.’
    A tear streaked down his pimply cheek and Romney felt great sorrow for the youngster. In a softer tone, he asked, ‘Would there have been much money in the till, or any lying around?’
    The youth wiped at his face with his sleeve. ‘Some. It wasn’t a busy shift. A couple of hundred at most, I suppose. I don’t really know. Claire took the money.’
    ‘The plastic ties that he made you secure her to the table with, where did they come from?’
    ‘His pocket.’
    ‘You’re sure? He brought them with him? He couldn’t have picked them up in the garage?’
    ‘No,’ said Park. ‘We don’t have anything like that.’
    With the top from a condom packet being recovered from the scene, Romney had intended to question Park, then physically unknown to him, with suggestions that perhaps he and the unfortunate Claire Stamp might have whiled away a boring evening or two gaining carnal knowledge of one another in the back room using condoms from the garage’s stock. Now, he saw this as a needless and unnecessary line of enquiry. He settled for asking, ‘How was your relationship with Miss Stamp?’
    The spotty youth seemed baffled by the question. ‘All right, I suppose.’
    ‘How long have you been working here?’
    ‘About six months.’
    ‘Is there anything else you can think of that might be important?’
    ‘He wasn’t English. He didn’t say much, but he had one of them eastern European accents.’
    ‘That’s interesting,’ said Romney. ‘How do you know it was eastern European?’
    The young man snorted. ‘You can’t live in Dover and not know what an eastern European accent sounds like. Bloody Kosovans are everywhere.’
    Romney exchanged a look with Marsh. ‘I hope your head’s all right, son. We’ll be in touch soon to get a formal witness statement from you.’
    Once more, Romney patted the lad on the knee and the police officers shuffled out. Romney waved at the ambulance men who had taken shelter in the garage shop.
    The police were half-way across the concrete forecourt when a voice called out behind them. They turned to see the rear door of the ambulance open and Park standing on the top step. ‘What did he do to her?’
    Romney just raised a hand in farewell, as though he hadn’t heard him properly, and strode off leaving Marsh standing awkwardly between them.
    She caught up with him inside the garage shop where he’d taken refuge in the warmth. She could see from his face that he was a lot less happy than he’d been before going into the back of the ambulance.
    ‘Guns, foreigners, what looks like pre-meditated rape and one of the nastiest bastards in town arrested. Christ. What a mess.’ He ran his fingers through his thick wavy hair.
    ‘It could have been a fake gun,’ said Marsh, ‘and accents can be faked. Park doesn’t strike me as the sharpest tool in the shed.’
    Marsh’s phone rang. As she answered it, Romney took a look around. He noticed the cigarette rack behind the counter was completely full apart from one section that was empty. He was staring at this when Marsh caught up with him.
    ‘That was the station. They’ve been through all the footage they have of cameras around this area. Nothing of a man fitting our description for the last couple of hours. Maybe he did have a car but parked it away from the garage.’
    ‘Maybe. Make a note to find out what brand of cigarette is missing from there.’ Romney indicated the rack with his chin. ‘And find out whether it was full before they were attacked.’ Marsh jotted in her notebook. ‘Who was first into the building?’
    ‘Two uniforms. One of them is by the door.’
    Romney looked up at him but couldn’t put a name to the face. He didn’t look much older than the youth he’d just spoken to in the ambulance and Romney reflected sadly that these young men shouldn’t be witnessing this kind of