Murder Takes the Stage Read Online Free Page B

few. Sounds like the Battle of Britain, doesn’t it?’ Another laugh. ‘You wrote one on that too, didn’t you?’
    â€˜Something like that,’ Peter said politely. ‘We’d appreciate anything you could tell us about the case, even at this early stage.’
    Georgia was beginning to warm to Ken. He might appear to ramble on, heading nowhere in particular, but she thought there was more to him than that. He seemed a kindly man but not one to whom life would offer many unexpected boosts in his career, or one with the power to fight his way to success. As a result, however, he seemed far more contented than many journalists she had met.
    â€˜Local stories are my cup of tea.’ He chuckled. ‘I can reel them off till the cows come home. How about this for an idea? I’ll give you the background to Tom’s story, every blinking detail you want, but not my pet angle. Not till it’s published. If you do decide to take the story on after I’ve had my scoop, we can pool resources. It will be in the Broadstairs Chronicle very shortly.’
    â€˜That sounds good,’ Peter agreed. A white lie, if ever she had heard one, Georgia thought, even if in a good cause. Peter wouldn’t be against sharing information, but he would think long and hard before working with a third party on a book project. Such an arrangement was too open to conflict. A big thank you in the acknowledgements was more usual for Marsh & Daughter.
    â€˜I need to get my story out on the street quickly.’ Ken gave a nervous laugh.
    â€˜The enemy on your trail?’ Peter joked.
    It didn’t go down too well. ‘You never know,’ Ken muttered, and Georgia was afraid he would clam up just as she had hoped they were getting somewhere. Did he really fear retribution?
    She held her breath as Peter tried to rescue the situation. ‘You’re right. All we’d like from you today is the basic story.’
    â€˜Nineteen fifty-two then,’ Ken began, settling back in his garden chair like an ombudsman now that the situation was clarified to his satisfaction. ‘Night of Saturday the sixteenth of August, when Joan Watson was found murdered. Stabbed with a kitchen knife.’
    â€˜Did you know her?’ Georgia could have kicked herself for asking such a stupid question.
    Ken grinned. ‘Do you mind? I was two years old then, and didn’t have my future profession in mind; otherwise I’d have taken notes. Most of what I know about Joan, I’ve learnt from my dad Micky, or from the press – and of course there’s Sandy; he was the third Joey. And Cherry. Know about her, do you?’
    â€˜Yes. Christine mentioned her. It must have been very hard for her.’
    â€˜She was a nice kid, Dad said. Still is, though not a kid any more. She was over the shock by the time I got to know her, though she’s never got over Tom. She stayed on here for a year or two after Tom’s trial, so Dad said, then married Harold Staines, the producer of the show, went up to London with him and disappeared off the radar. Then the marriage vanished too, and back she came. No kids. Never had much luck, did Cherry. Got a job as a dancer at the Margate Lido for a year or two, then married again. Then he died. Anyway, best start at the beginning,’ he said guiltily. ‘I always put my big feet in before my head, so my dad always said.’
    â€˜First,’ Peter said quickly, ‘could you tell us whether there was any doubt over who murdered Joan? Any suspects other than Tom?’
    â€˜Plenty of them, but Tom never denied killing her.’
    â€˜Did he admit it though?’ Georgia asked. This did not add up with the fingerprints at the cafe being Tom’s; where was the unfinished business?
    â€˜Ah-ha,’ Ken said maddeningly. ‘Like I said, let’s start at the beginning. With the show itself. Waves Ahoy! it was called. It began in Ramsgate just