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knowing looks were passed.
    Gordon felt annoyed but he knew that rumours had been spreading like wildfire in the village over the past couple of days. Julie had said that she’d heard people talking in the bank on Friday morning.
    ‘That baby was never kidnapped,’ said one of the women. ‘Mark my words.’
    ‘Perhaps you should share your knowledge with the police, Mrs Jones,’ snapped Gordon who’d recognised the voice as belonging to the wife of the local butcher.
    ‘Don’t think I need to, Doctor,’ came the reply. ‘They were up there this afternoon – in force, I hear.’
    ‘What does that mean?’
    ‘Let’s just wait and see shall we?’ said Freda Jones with a self-satisfied nod of the head as she did up the top button of her coat and sought the support of her companions with sideways glances in both directions.
    ‘Who’d want to kidnap a child … well, like that,’ said one of the others.
    ‘Doesn’t make any sense if you want my opinion.’
    ‘It’s just a matter of time before they find her body. You’ll see; there was never any kidnapping.’
    ‘Mind you, when you think about it, it must have been a terrible strain on the pair of them; I mean you’ve got to have some sympathy.’
    ‘Nonsense,’ insisted Freda Jones. ‘The good Lord put that little mite here for a purpose. It’s not up to anyone else to question what that purpose might be.’
    ‘I suppose.’
    ‘Maybe you should all just hold your malicious tongues!’ exploded Gordon who could remain quiet no longer.
    ‘Well, really,’ said Freda Jones angrily. ‘I don’t think there’s any call for that kind of talk. We’re just saying what is perfectly obvious to all of us with the apparent exception of yourself, Doctor.’
    Gordon bit his tongue this time and turned his attention back to Ida Marsh to finish his examination. He helped her to her feet. ‘No real harm done,’ he said. ‘I don’t think you’ll have any more trouble but if you do, give me a call at the surgery.’
    ‘Thank you Doctor, I’m very grateful to you but I’m sure it was just the fumes in that room,’ said Ida Marsh. She said it without any real feeling as if unwilling to alienate her friends by appearing too effusive in her thanks to Gordon.
    Gordon closed up his bag and nodded to the huddle as he left. ‘Good Afternoon Ladies.’
    As he walked back down the harbour steps, smarting with anger at the rumour- mongers, he worried in particular about what the woman Jones had said. She’d made the fact that the police were up at the Palmer house sound very sinister. The sight of Sergeant Walters standing outside his building when he turned the corner did nothing to help matters, the expression on his face was serious and he didn’t smile as Gordon approached him.
    ‘Have you found her? She’s not been harmed has she?’ asked Gordon, willing the answer to be positive.
    ‘I’m afraid she’s dead, sir. We found her this afternoon.’
    ‘Oh God, no,’ sighed Gordon. ‘Of all the lousy things to happen. Christ, there are some sick bastards out there. Do you know what happened? Where did you find her?’
    ‘She was found buried in the Palmers’ own garden sir. I’m afraid John Palmer has confessed to murdering his own daughter.’
    Gordon felt a great weight come down on his shoulders. He looked at Walters, as if there must be some mistake in what he was hearing. ‘John confessed to murdering Anne-Marie?’ he repeated. ‘That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I simply don’t believe it. He loved that child. They both did. I just can’t believe it. If ever the term, good Christian man, could be applied to anyone, it would be John Palmer.’
    Walters said flatly, ‘I’m afraid your good Christian man has admitted to murdering his own daughter and burying her body in the garden. That’s an end to it as far as we’re concerned.’
    ‘How did he do it?’ asked Gordon quietly.
    ‘We don’t know yet. The forensic