Killer Women by Wensley Clarkson Page B

They only thought about it later.
    Outside the gates of the local primary school at about this time, a little girl was looking distraught. All her friends had been collected but still there was no sign of her mummy.
    Veronica may have been just five years of age but she was the spitting image of her mother Vivienne Elliot. It was eerie really – they could have been twins if the 27-year gap had not existed. The little girl even had the same sort of specs as her mum.
    ‘Where do you think your mummy has got to?’
    The teacher was very concerned. Vivienne was always very good about being there to pick up her daughter. Some parents were downright uncaring, but not Vivienne. She may have had a racy reputation around town but her parenthood was never in question.
    They waited another fifteen minutes but still there was no sign of Vivienne. The teacher had no option but to ring Veronica’s granny. Something could have happened to her for all they knew.
    Iris Ives was puzzled. It just wasn’t like her daughter to be unreliable when it came to collecting Veronica. As she picked up the youngster, she felt an odd feeling of impending doom coming upon her. Something was wrong. Something was badly wrong.
    There was no answer at the door to Vivienne’s house. Iris was confused. She had to be home. Where else could she be? She had to be home.
    She tried again but still there was no reply.
    ‘I’ll go round the back, Granny.’
    Iris thought nothing of letting little Veronica dash around to the side gate to the semi-detached house.
    Her eyes followed her little granddaughter’s route and then stopped dead.
    There on the ground were a pair of legs sticking through the side gate.
    ‘Mummy. Mummy. Mummy.’
    Iris knew it was her the moment Veronica began screaming. She dragged her hysterical granddaughter away from the corpse. It was way too late to save her.
    Twenty minutes later, police acting on a tip-off from Vivienne’s relatives knocked on the door of the Miller house and arrested Barbara for murder. Her niece Karen was charged with being an accessory.
    Barbara told police, ‘She was stirring it between me and my boyfriend. She deserved to die.’
    The reality was a far more complex tragedy of life and death.
    In July 1988, at the Old Bailey, Barbara Miller, aged 30, was jailed for life after pleading guilty to manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility.
    Karen Miller, aged 19, admitted conspiracy to commit common assault and assisting to remove the body. She was given three years’ probation.
    After the case, Barbara’s father George said, ‘My heart bleeds for both of them. They have had such a raw deal in life. I just hope to goodness they can get the help they need in the future.’

The Seaside Killers
    Some people had all the luck.
    She was just 21-years of age. Thick, dark hair cascaded over slender shoulders. Pert breasts that were the envy of all her girlfriends. Shapely thighs with just the right degree of curve to attract any red-blooded male’s attention. Even her ankles were neat and nicely rounded, especially when she was wearing a pair of two-inch heels. Everyone agreed – Gail hadthe sort of good looks all girls long for.
    Even her upbringing in the respectable Buckinghamshire hamlet of Farnham Common gave her a definite edge on most girls of a similar age. It wasn’t that she came from such a wealthy background, but the civilised tone of life in such a peaceful place had definitely rubbed off on her.
    ‘She had a certain magnetism,’ was how her old school pals used to describe it. Lots of friends tried to persuade her to enter the local beauty pageant. But Gail said she was too shy and modest to exhibit her body like some piece of meat in a marketplace.
    Her friends also said that the beautiful brunette could be pretty cold and cunning when she wanted to get her own way. Gail was without doubt a very determined young woman – and she was on the lookout for the right man to fall in love