Under a Silent Moon Read Online Free Page A

was a poignant photograph because she looked so young, so alive, beautiful, in a fresh, carefree sort of way, with long white-blond hair and tanned skin from spending the summer outdoors.
    â€œThis morning at just after nine-forty, Polly Leuchars’s body was found by her employer at her home, Yonder Cottage, Cemetery Lane, Morden. Polly worked as a groom at Hermitage Farm and lived in the cottage because she was a family friend of the Maitlands, who, as we all know, own and run Hermitage Farm.”
    A few murmurs.
    â€œPolly was on the floor in the downstairs hallway and had been severely beaten. She was wearing pajamas and her bed had been slept in. Early estimates from the pathologist put the time of death as between midnight and four, although this needs to be confirmed.”
    Lou looked at the sea of faces. She still had their undivided attention and some of the late shift were busy making notes. “Right. Over to you, Barry. For those of you who don’t know, Barry Holloway is our reader-receiver.”
    â€œGuv.”
    Lou stepped to one side of the projection screen, watching the room.
    Barry fiddled with the laptop. “Anyone not happy with scene photos, look away now, folks. Otherwise I’ll warn you when we get to the really grim ones.”
    The first slide came up, a picture of the kitchen of Yonder Cottage. Blood on the floor, on the work surfaces.
    â€œGood news and bad news so far. The good news: we’ve probably got forensics all over the place. Nothing confirmed until we get the CSI report back, but for now spatter marks indicate the main attack took place downstairs in the hallway. No sign of forced entry but apparently the back door wasn’t routinely locked. No sign of the murder weapon, and we’re waiting for confirmation of what that could be. Something solid and heavy, in any case.”
    The slides clicked over to the stairs. “We’ve got some good shoe marks, and a smeared handprint. Likelihood of fingerprints is pretty good. Brace yourselves for the next few, if you’re squeamish.”
    Next slide, the hallway, stairway to the rear. Body in situ.
    Click. Close-up on what remained of Polly Leuchars. She was facedown, one arm up near her head, the other by her side, one knee brought up, wearing cotton pajamas, patches of pink still visible in all the dark brown and red; flashes of still-blond hair; white bone showing through.
    Click. The side of Polly’s face, swollen purple skin in the places where you could actually see the skin. What could have been bruising under a still perfect shell-like ear.
    Someone in the room let out a long breath; otherwise there was silence.
    â€œAs you can see, this is a nasty one. There’s not a lot of Polly’s head left. We had to get initial identification from the Maitlands via some jewelry, although Felicity Maitland assumed it was Polly from her size and her hair. Extensive blood loss here, here, and over here.”
    Lou looked across at the faces earnestly taking in the bloody scene on display and trying not to show emotion. They’d all seen stuff like this before, but it didn’t mean they were unaffected by it.
    â€œPostmortem hopefully tomorrow. We’ll have to wait until then for the first thoughts. Guv.”
    â€œThanks, Barry.” Lou resumed her place and flipped on to the next slide. “This is where we are now. We have an initial witness statement from Felicity Maitland. Sam’s been in touch with Miranda Gregson, who is our FLO. She’s been with the family all afternoon. How are they, Sam?”
    Sam Hollands, stockily built with a sweep of heavy blond hair, spoke up from the back. “Felicity Maitland is in a bad way and her husband keeps feeding her alcohol, which isn’t helping. Flora, their daughter, has been looking after everyone, not saying much. She’s got a flat in Briarstone.”
    â€œWhat about Polly’s parents?”
    â€œThe mother,