by Rebecca Tope
‘Philip, tell me. What the hell is going on?’ She made as if to run to the single person she recognised, but her husband caught her arm.
‘We have to stay here. They’ll come and talk to us when they’re ready. They only say there have been developments, up to now.’
‘Developments? Why? What’s happened?’ She felt light-headed, inarticulate, the only important questions endlessly repeating themselves.
‘They told me to stay in the house. They wanted to keep me a prisoner in my own house. So I came outside.’ His voice was much too loud. Many nervous glances came his way from different corners of the yard.
‘For God’s sake, we should do as they say. They have our best interests at heart. And what happened to your face?’ She put up a hand to examine his injuries.
‘What?’ He brushed her hand away. ‘What makes you think that?’
‘It’s our daughter who’s lost,’ she whispered, tears filling her eyes. ‘Come on. We should go in.’
Philip sagged defeatedly and followed her back to the kitchen. They sat down at the table in silence. Sheena pushed the fingers of both hands through her hair and dropped her head, staring blankly at the scrubbed pine surface inches from her face. Her husband once again began to explore his own damaged face, slowly crisscrossing his cheeks, wincing as the bruises reacted, but making no effort to lighten the pressure of his fingers. Ten minutes passed, with occasional subdued sounds filtering through from the yard. Sheena resisted any temptation to look out of the window at what might be happening. Somehow over the past moments, she had understood, and no longer felt any impatience to know the unbearable truth.
But Philip was different. ‘I can’t stand this!’ he burst out, and got up from his chair. ‘I’m going to see what they’re doing.’ Sheena ignored him as he went out of the room.
He was back within seconds. ‘There’s another man here now. Looks like a doctor.’
‘Oh, God,’ she wept. ‘They must have found her, then.’ She stared blankly at him. ‘But how …?’
‘We’ll know soon enough,’ he grated. ‘All we have to do is sit here until they condescend to talk to us.’
Only then did Sheena grasp the reason for the surreal sense of déjà vu she had been experiencing since entering the yard. Men in uniform; silent stony faces; heart pounding; Philip almost crazy with the horror of it. ‘It’s like the foot and mouth all over again,’ she whispered.
Philip’s throat worked convulsively and she wondered for a moment if he was going to be sick. He said nothing.
Another twenty minutes passed, during which neither spoke a word. For Sheena time meant nothing. Her thoughts alighted on a string of unrelated topics, one after another. Images of Georgia meshed with memories from earlier times. She thought of Philip’s father, pulling on his boots and cursing the weather. She heard again the muted explosions of the stun guns, killing scores of healthy cows. She smelt again the rotting carcasses that were not removed for an unbearable ten days. She thought of her husband, doing his best to carry on, dealing in safe undemanding bales of hay and straw, investing no emotion in them, a hollow man.
At last the waiting came to an end. She lifted her head as she heard footsteps in the hallway outside. The tall detective ducked his way into the room with them, his face grim. There were grooves around his mouth and nose, as if he’d been trying to escape an awful smell.
‘I’m very sorry,’ the detective began. ‘But I have to tell you that we have found the remains of a child in a ditch a short distance from here.’
‘No!’ Sheena howled, wrapping her arms around her head as if to ward off a blow.
‘We’ll have someone here in a few minutes to sit with you,’ he went on. ‘She’s just outside …’
‘What does that matter?’ Renton ground out. ‘We don’t need anybody like that.’ He scowled at the floor near Den’s feet. ‘What happens now?’
Den cleared his throat. ‘There’ll have to be a positive identification and then a post-mortem. Until then, we can do very little.’
Renton dragged himself to his feet. ‘I’ll identify her,’ he said. ‘Let’s get on with it.’
‘Oh … no, not yet.’ Den showed some alarm. ‘She isn’t – I mean, it would be better at the mortuary. Better, actually, if there was somebody less closely related.’ He swallowed.
‘There isn’t anybody,’ the man insisted. ‘What’s the matter? Won’t it make your job easier this way?’
Den looked in vain for assistance. Nobody had followed him into the kitchen. There was no way he could permit the man to lay eyes on the horrible mess that had been his little girl. But he wasn’t sure how to prevent him.
‘I really don’t think—’ he tried again.
The sound of more people just outside the front door gave him hope of reprieve. ‘Just a moment,’ he muttered, and went to investigate.
Drew and Maggs were standing warily, looking around at the gathering in the yard. They smiled awkwardly at Den.
‘Am I glad to see you,’ he hissed at them, coming up close. ‘You can probably help me on this.’
‘All done then?’ Maggs asked, eyes glittering.
‘More or less. She’s been dead several days and not nice. The thing is …’ he spoke urgently, addressing himself to Drew, ‘… the father says he wants to identify her. Here. Now. I can’t really stop him if he insists, but he probably has no idea what it’ll be like. You must get this all the time. What do I do?’
‘Nasty,’ Drew agreed. ‘How bad is she? Smelly, I suppose.’
‘Very. We’ve got her into a bag, just down there. Her eyes are gone, for a start. Well, you know.’ Cooper put a hand to his mouth, wishing he could dispel the image from his mind.
‘Give us a couple of minutes with her,’ said Maggs. ‘We can probably get her a bit better. Has the photographer been?’
‘All that’s been done hours ago. That’s why we’ve made you wait for so long.’ Cooper nodded at the crowded yard. ‘It’s a murder enquiry now.’
‘Couldn’t she have just wandered off and got lost?’ Maggs asked.
‘It’s a tempting thought – but unlikely,’ Den grimaced. Their eyes met, with layers of meaning.
‘So we can remove the body, can we?’ Drew had become briskly professional. ‘I assume we’re to take her to the Royal Victoria?’
‘Once we’ve sorted the parents out,’ Cooper assented.
‘Go and see if you can talk him out of it. If he still insists, then give us the nod and we’ll do what we can.’
‘You know you can’t do anything that might interfere with evidence?’
‘Obviously. But we can wrap her up nicely and close her eyelids. Every little helps.’
Cooper went back into the kitchen, taking Bennie Timms with him. She’d been deep in conversation with Roma Millan, who had hovered for the entire afternoon, unable to tear herself away. The two women had formed a bond based on the tragic anguish of a dead child.
‘Mr Renton,’ Den began carefully. ‘The undertakers are ready to transfer the body to the mortuary. Can I just repeat that we think it would be very much better if someone else could be found to identify her, or if you really do want to take it on, then wait until tomorrow morning.’
‘No, I’ll do it now. Where is she?’
‘Philip?’ Sheena raised her head from its slumped position on the table. ‘Why?’
‘Because it has to be done and if I don’t do it now I may never find the strength again.’
‘No, I don’t mean that. Why did she kill her? Why in the world did Justine have to kill my baby?’
CHAPTER TWELVE
Maggs watched the slow dispersal of the various professionals, once the little body had been stowed in the back of the van, and Drew was having a final word with DS Cooper. One individual seemed to stand out, a solitary figure apparently lost in her own thoughts. Instinctively, Maggs went up to her.
‘You must be Roma Millan,’ she said quietly. ‘All this is so awful
, isn’t it.’
‘It doesn’t feel real,’ said the older woman. ‘When you see death at close quarters like that … it’s just a foul smell and extra work for everyone. That’s all I can see.’ She spoke dreamily, not looking at Maggs.
‘Oh, but it’s ever so much more than that,’ the girl assured her earnestly.
‘You think so?’
‘Yes. Absolutely. You should talk to Drew about it.’
‘I have, dear. More than once.’ Roma seemed to shake herself, focusing finally on the girl in front of her. ‘You’re Drew’s famous business partner, are you? He’s told me about you.’
‘And me about you. Pleased to meet you.’ Maggs smiled. ‘We don’t have to hang about here any longer, you know.’
‘You might not. I’ve got to wait for a lift home.’
Maggs didn’t pause to think. ‘Oh, we could take you. If you don’t mind the van. And I suppose it might whiff a bit, come to think of it.’
‘I could probably bear that.’
Maggs suddenly realised that the woman had been fighting back tears throughout their conversation. ‘Anything rather than stand here for another minute.’
‘That’s sorted, then.’ Maggs looked round for Drew. ‘Oh, there he is. Drew!’ she called. ‘Can we go?’
His frown told her she ought not to be raising her voice. A hush had fallen over the yard from the moment Philip Renton had emerged from the house and been taken to identify the body of his child. The resulting howl had completely silenced everyone for some minutes.
Chastened, Maggs climbed into the van, inviting Roma to follow her. ‘The middle seat isn’t very comfortable,’ she explained. ‘You’re better off by the door.’ Drew came to the driver’s side with an enquiring expression. ‘I said we’d take Roma home,’ Maggs explained. ‘She doesn’t want to wait around for the police.’
‘Better tell them, then,’ Drew said tightly. He beckoned DS Cooper over. ‘Mrs Millan’s coming with us, if that’s all right,’ he said softly. ‘It looks as if you’re not quite finished here.’
‘Right. Thanks.’ The detective seemed absent. His eye caught Maggs’s and he stirred himself enough to give a friendly wink. It did little to ameliorate the distress etched on his features.
Roma became talkative in the van. ‘They’ll arrest Justine, of course. Everyone’s convinced she killed the little girl now. I did the right thing, didn’t I? I couldn’t just leave her there, once I’d found her. I should never have gone looking for her like that. It was stupid of me – interfering old bat that I am. She’ll never forgive me. Why should she? I betrayed her.’ Tears dropped sporadically from the outer corner of each eye, to be dashed impatiently away.
‘Everything’s collapsing around me. Laurie’s gone off, God knows where. That’s a dreadful smell, isn’t it. Do I have to come with you to the hospital? It’s an awfully long way in the wrong direction.’
Drew had the window open, hoping the air current would help dispel the noxious reek from the body in the back. ‘We can take you first,’ he offered. ‘The Coroner trusts us not to tamper with the body.’
Roma wiped her eyes with a crumpled tissue. ‘Just drop me in the village. Don’t go to the house.’ Drew knew better than to argue with her.
‘They’ll have to keep the mortuary open for us,’ Maggs reminded him, with a glance at her watch. ‘Sam isn’t going to be too pleased.’
‘There’s isn’t much of an alternative,’ Drew said tightly. ‘We can be there in under an hour, even via Pitcombe. If they’d called Plants, it wouldn’t have been any quicker. We were on the spot, after all.’
‘Poor little thing,’ Roma murmured. ‘I hope she didn’t suffer. It conjures up some horrible images, doesn’t it?’ Drew and Maggs both knew what she meant.
‘You don’t really think it was Justine, do you?’ Drew asked.
‘I can’t let myself think that, can I? I’m her mother. And you’ve seen her; she’s so small and fragile. How could she have done anything like that?’
Drew remembered that Justine was a potter; it must take some muscle to throw clay on a wheel. She had big sinewy hands. Justine might be small, but Georgia Renton was a lot smaller.
‘They’ll be able to tell us much more tomorrow,’ he said. ‘After the post-mortem.’
Maggs felt the pressure of the older woman’s arm and shoulder against her. It was shaking, although when Maggs glanced sideways at her there was no visible sign of the tremor. ‘What am I going to tell her?’ she burst out. ‘She’s there now, waiting for me. She doesn’t know what’s going on. I don’t think I can bear to say the words.’ She clutched her hands together. ‘Isn’t that stupid?’
Maggs turned to Drew. ‘I can stay with her, can’t I, and see if I can help. You don’t need me to come to the mortuary.’
‘Drew cleared his throat. ‘Well …’ he began.
‘Of course you don’t. It’s not as if she’s too heavy for you.’
‘True.’
‘But how will you get home?’ Roma asked.
Maggs shrugged. ‘I could stay the night, if that’s all right with you. Drew can come and fetch me in the morning.’
Drew understood that a bond had instantly developed between the girl and the woman, and marvelled at Maggs’s acuity. In anyone else it would have seemed like impertinence, an invasion of the family at a time of crisis, but Roma seemed to grasp at the offer with undisguised relief. He knew better than to interpose his own misgivings.
‘I suppose I could,’ he agreed.
Justine met them at the door as they walked the few hundred yards from where Drew had set them down. ‘Who’s this?’ she demanded, staring at Maggs.
‘Her name’s Maggs and she’s staying the night,’ said Roma shortly.
‘Something’s happened, hasn’t it? Where have you been all afternoon? I’ve been phoning all over the place trying to find you.’
‘Oh?’ Roma showed a flash of curiosity. ‘Who in the world would you have phoned? You have no idea who my friends are or where I’d be likely to go.’
‘I tried Karen Slocombe and Aunt Helen and one or two people in your address book. None of them replied except Karen and she didn’t seem to know anything.’
‘I’m not surprised. It’s Thursday.’
‘So?’
‘Bridge night,’ Roma told her. ‘They’ll be wondering where I am. I never miss it.’ Justine hugged herself, waiflike in a baggy cotton jumper. ‘I thought you’d walked out and left me here, like Laurie.’
‘Justine, something really dreadful has happened and I’m going to have to try and tell you about it. There’s a good chance the police will be here in a little while, so we might not have much time. Maggs has very kindly offered to stay with us, because – well, because we might need her. We’d better go into the living room.’
‘We should have some tea or something first,’ Maggs suggested. ‘It’s ages since I had a drink, and I bet you’re the same.’ She thought back over the afternoon. Mr French’s funeral seemed days ago already. She and Drew had finally set out for Gladcombe shortly before three. Now she looked at her watch to find it was well past seven. ‘Gosh!’ she exclaimed. ‘No wonder I’m thirsty.’
‘I’ll make some tea then,’ said Justine faintly. ‘What about something to eat?’
Roma and Maggs shook their heads in unison. ‘Not hungry,’ they grimaced.
In the event, Roma’s ominous preliminaries made it easy for Justine to guess the news. She wept as her fears were confirmed, the tears shaking free from her pinched little face. ‘Oh, that poor baby,’ she moaned. ‘She was such a sweet little thing, so good and undemanding.’ She crossed her arms tightly across her stomach and rocked herself. ‘She must have been so scared, out in the fields by herself.’
Roma’s voice broke harshly through. ‘How do you know she was in the fields?’ she grated, her face suddenly grey.
Justine frowned at her. ‘She must have been, surely? They’d have found her if she was anyw
here else.’ Terror at her mother’s tone dried her tears. ‘My God! You think I killed her, don’t you? You still think all this was me, that I made up the story about Penn locking me up.’
‘Nobody said anybody killed her.’
‘You didn’t have to. I can see it in your face. You said the police would be coming. Coming for me, I suppose. Charged with murder, on the say-so of my own mother.’ She laughed wildly and looked at Maggs. ‘And you think so too. You’re here to protect her against me, in case I strike again. Justine the mad murderer, not safe to be with.’
‘Stop it,’ Roma ordered in a shaky voice. ‘You’re not helping yourself, behaving like this.’
‘Why should I help myself? Why should I care what happens to me? It was all falling apart anyway, only the pills keeping me going. And Georgia. She loves me far more than her mother, you know. That stupid cow barely even knows she’s got a kid at all. She doesn’t deserve such a little love as that.’ She collapsed into weeping again. ‘I knew something terrible must have happened to her. I just hoped that somehow Penn had taken her and kept her safe. She knows Penn, so that would be OK.’
‘But you knew she was out in the fields,’ Maggs reminded her in a low voice. ‘When you can’t really know for sure, unless …’
‘Unless I left here there, you mean. I was guessing, OK? Look, you’ve both got mud on your shoes and Ma’s got a leaf in her hair. I just picked up the clues with realising. You both smell, as well.’ She plunged her face into her hands, closing her fingers over her nose. ‘That’s her smell, isn’t it? Something that’s been dead for days. If that’d been in a house or barn, someone would have noticed. Of course she must have been outside somewhere.’
‘So you still say you were abducted by Penn. Your cousin, my sister’s daughter, did that to you?’ Roma’s face seemed to strain forward, hungry for the truth.
Justine nodded vigorously, her face still hidden. ‘She did,’ came her muffled voice. Then she raised her head. ‘But I’ve been thinking about it, over and over. I don’t believe she really meant to hurt me. It was almost as if she was saving me from something even worse.’
