Goodbye My Precious Child

by M A Comley

“You think?” He shrugged. “I suppose the parents might’ve seen the appeal go out recently from Anna Pickrel.”

  Sally tilted her head. “You could have something there, and they used the same excuse to kill their own child? I’ve got my team checking into the parents’ backgrounds now. We’ll see what surfaces there. Let’s crack on. Don’t hesitate to give me a shout if you need my advice on anything, not that I’m doubting your abilities.”

  “I’ll be fine now I’ve seen you in action.”

  Sally smiled. “Good luck. We’ll aim to get in and out quickly, but also be compassionate. Remember we’re dealing with the death of a child here.”

  “I hear you.” He set off to the right while Sally crossed the road and knocked on Bob’s front door. She withdrew her notebook and waited for the resident to open it.

  An elderly gentleman greeted her with a smile. “I saw you over at Donald’s. Knew he’d send you my way.”

  Sally smiled. “Bob, is it? I’m DI Sally Parker. Mind if I come in for a brief chat?”

  He stood behind the door and motioned for her to step into the hallway.

  “Thank you.”

  “Anything to help the police. Come through to the kitchen, and I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

  “That would be lovely, thank you, sir.” She didn’t have the heart to tell him she didn’t drink tea and assumed he’d have coffee in the house, which was considered an extravagance to some old folks, so she’d heard.

  “Terrible thing, what happened over the road. No doubt you’ll be wanting to know what I heard and saw.”

  Sally flipped open her notebook and poised her pen. “It would make my life a lot easier if you told me you saw something, sir. Did you?”

  He put a splash of milk into each cup along with a teabag. “Sugar?”

  “Two please,” she said, hoping the sugar would mask the taste of the tea.

  The kettle finished boiling. He poured the water into the mugs and placed a spoon in each then walked across the room to the small kitchen table. “Take the weight off your feet and drink that. There’s a saucer to put your teabag on when it’s brewed.”

  “You’re very kind. Did you see anything last night?”

  He nodded. “I saw a man standing by the hedge around one, give or take ten minutes.”

  Her interest immediately piqued. “You did? Could you make him out? His features, height, build et cetera?”

  He left the table and the room and returned carrying a slip of paper. “I took down all the details just in case he was up to no good. There was no point ringing your lot. I’ve done that before, and no one has bothered to come out.”

  “This is excellent,” she replied, reading through his spidery scrawl, stumbling across certain words but then managing to figure out what they were in the context of the sentence. “I’m sorry you’ve been let down by us in the past. I’ll look into that when I get back to the station.”

  “If you would. It’s peace of mind we need at our age. No good ringing the police and reporting a possible crime if we’re going to be ignored, is there?”

  “I understand that, Bob. It won’t happen again, I assure you. I take it you watched this man for a while?”

  “I did. He must have stayed there about twenty minutes. I had to nip to the loo then. When I came back, he’d gone. I foolishly believed he’d got bored and buggered off. It wasn’t until I saw all the commotion going on over at the Kilpatricks’ that I realised he’d carried out his intentions.”

  “That’s why you didn’t make the call, because you thought he’d gone?”

  “That and the fact I’ve been ignored before. No doubt my conscience would’ve driven me to ringing your lot eventually. I don’t know how I feel about things now I’ve heard what the bastard did. I’m determined not to feel guilty but I’ve got a niggle in my gut.” He placed his head in his hands.

  Sally rubbed his arm. “Please don’t punish yourself, none of this is your fault.”

  He dried his eyes on the sleeve of his woollen jumper. “But knowing I could have likely prevented it, well, that hurts more than any words can express.”

  “I understand, sir. I’d probably feel the same if I were in your shoes. You’ve given us a pretty good description of the man here. I have to ask, would you be willing to work with a police sketch artist to define his features?”

  “I would. I’d like to help the poor parents in any way I can. I can’t imagine the pain they’re going through right now. Horrendous, it must be.”

  “I agree. Okay, let me make a quick call, get that organised.” She picked up her mobile and rang the desk sergeant. “Pat, I’m out at the crime scene. I’ve got a possible witness who is willing to work with a sketch artist. Can you organise that for me?”

  “I’ll see if she’s available. What address, ma’am?”

  “Bob, what number are you?”

  “Thirty.”

  Sally nodded her thanks. “It’s number thirty, the bungalow opposite the Kilpatricks’ place.”

  “Leave it with me. Want me to confirm a rendezvous time with yourself, ma’am?”

  “If you would. Thanks, Pat.” She gave the sergeant a brief description of the offender so he could issue an alert to his team, then she hung up and took a sip of her drink. “He should get back to me pretty soon.”

  “Do you think this has anything to do with that other case that was highlighted on the TV last week? Seems odd that someone should target a child in the same way. Of course, that’s all presumption on my part as to what has gone on over there. I heard the mother’s screams during the night when everyone should be tucked up in bed.”

  “First things first, we can’t compare or connect the two crimes at present. It’ll be there at the back of my mind, but we’ll need to find some form of evidence before we can make that leap. And yes, the child was found in her bed, smothered with a pillow, so the similarities are there. Although we need to be cautious going forward. If we start off investigating the wrong line of enquiries, it could damage the current investigation.”

  “I get that. Once you’ve pieced it all together, what do you think the likelihood is?”

  “Nice try. Honestly, I tend to work with the facts and evidence to hand. I’m never one to make assumptions. That could derail the case and would be foolish.” Her phone rang. “Yes, Pat?”

  “She can come out this afternoon, ma’am, at two, if that’s acceptable?”

  “Let me check.” She covered the phone and asked, “Is two this afternoon okay for you, Bob?”

  “I don’t have any appointments this afternoon; yes, that’s fine.”

  “Hi, Pat. That’s an affirmative. Thanks for sorting that out for me. See you soon.”

  “You’re welcome, ma’am.”

  Sally drank half her tea and decided to leave the rest. “I’ll leave the sheet of paper here. You can refresh your memory before the sketch artist shows up.” She took a photo and placed her phone back in her pocket.

  He prodded his temple with his forefinger. “If you like, but it’s all up here, along with the guilt.”

  “Please, there’s no need for you to feel guilty. We have to think positive about this. If you hadn’t spotted the man then we’d be running around chasing our tails right now. With your help, we’ll be a lot further forward with the case and on the trail of a suspect soon enough.”

  “Unlike that other case, you mean?”

  “It’s a difficult one for sure. How the mother and son must feel after being in limbo for the past nineteen years, well, I can only imagine.”

  “Downright heartbreaking, it is. To think it happened nearly two decades ago, and there’s no sign of a suspect.”

  “We’re doing our best. Okay, I’m going to have to move on to the next neighbour now, Bob, unless there’s anything else you’d like to tell me?”

  “No, not really. I hope you manage to find this bastard, for the family’s sake. I know they’re close, they do the right thing by their children. Always
seem to be going off on some sort of adventure at the weekends. They care about their children, unlike some parents nowadays who seem to kick them out on the street to disrupt the traffic on their bikes most days.”

  “That’s good to hear. Donald was under the impression the family didn’t really get on that well together.”

  “He’s a grumpy old man at the best of times. Comes over here for a cuppa, and he’s non-stop, running the neighbours down left, right and bloody centre, that one. I’d take what he says with a pinch of salt.”

  Sally smiled. “He even led me to believe the mother shouted at the children, hinted that he wouldn’t put it past the parents killing the child.”

  Bob growled. “Seriously? He needs a kick up the arse, he does. Damn silly sod. His gaff should be known as Gossip Central. Always wittering on or slagging off someone if they’ve spoken out against him. You ask the others on the street, they’ll tell you the same thing, I can guarantee it.”

  “I’ll disregard what he said about the family then. Thanks for the drink, it was kind of you. Hope all goes well with the artist this afternoon. I wish there were more people like you around, it would make our job a whole lot easier.”

  “I like to do my best. I hope your case gets solved soon, both of them. You’re to be admired taking on a current case and a cold case, that’s for sure.”

  “Time will tell on that one.” Sally left the house and glanced across the street at Brian who was jotting something down in his notebook. He must have sensed her looking at him because he peered over his shoulder and raised a thumb in her direction.

  She paused a few moments as he appeared to be finishing up speaking with the direct neighbour on the other side of the Kilpatricks. He trotted across the road to her.

  “Any good?” she asked.

  “Not really. She’s one of those who are out for the count once their head hits the pillow. What about you?”

  “I think I hit the jackpot. Trying to rein in my excitement, though. Bob saw a man lingering last night for around twenty minutes. He nipped to the loo and when he came back the man had gone. He presumed he’d got bored and moved on. Kicking himself for not calling us out.”

  “Damn, why didn’t he?”

  “He’s called us before, and no one has bothered showing up, so he didn’t see the point.”

  “Bloody hell, that’s not the reputation we want, is it?”

  “No, it’s not. I’ll be having a word once we get back to the station. He was pretty good at writing down the man’s description. I’ve arranged for a sketch artist to drop by and see him this afternoon. Once we have that to hand, we can act on it. It’s going to be a tough ask to solve this one without it. Why don’t we rush through the other interviews and get back to base?”

  “Sounds good to me. I’m dying for a cuppa.”

  Sally’s guilt gene prodded her gut. “Another hour, okay?”

  “Agreed.”

  They went their separate ways again and continued their enquiries on either side of the street. An hour later, every house had been covered. The occupants of the bungalows at the end of the road proved to be less informative than those living closer to the Kilpatricks. Nevertheless, everyone appeared to be in shock that a major crime had been committed.

  Sally had done her best to calm their fears by telling them that she would be ensuring a patrol checked on the area regularly over the coming weeks. Sod the cuts, people’s lives were at risk.

  They travelled back to base. Upon their arrival, Sally had a brief chat with Pat, making him aware of the situation, about Bob’s calls to the station being ignored in the past.

  “Damn, not what we want to hear, ma’am. I’ll look into that for you and pull someone over the coals if necessary.”

  “Thanks, Pat. I knew I could rely on you.”

  Brian joined Sally as she ran through the details of the case with the rest of her team. They bounced ideas off each other for a productive hour or so.

  Joanna was the first to speak. “Why the nineteen-year gap? Could the perp have been released from prison?”

  “Possibly,” Sally replied. “Can you look into that for me?”

  Joanna made a note on her pad. “Of course.”

  “There’s another possibility we need to consider,” Jack said, somewhat reluctantly.

  Sally got the impression he was still in a mood with her. She smiled, attempting to make peace with him. “Go on, Jack?”

  “We’ve been poking around the past week…”

  She tilted her head. Tell me something I don’t know, partner. “And?” She perched on the desk next to his and folded her arms.

  “And, well, what if we’ve stirred a fire within someone.”

  “Someone we’ve questioned already, you mean?”

  “He’s right,” Brian piped up.

  “It’s not often I’m wrong, mate,” Jack responded sternly.

  Sally glanced at the ceiling at the testosterone on show, in Jack’s case anyway.

  “I agree. You could be onto something there, Jack. Our snooping around, or more to the point, asking questions, might have prompted the killer to have resurfaced again. Possibly brought back memories of what it felt like to kill Millie. Or, another scenario I’d like to put forward, what if the murderer was still in the area and he’s heard about the investigation being reopened and has come up with a cunning plan to point the finger?”

  “By killing another child?” Brian asked, seeming perplexed by the notion.

  Sally shrugged. “Why not? It’s not as if we’re dealing with a mentally stable person, not if they choose to kill an innocent child. Also, the Pickrel case has been featured on TV, don’t forget.” She crossed the room towards the whiteboard and circled the names of all the witnesses they’d spoken to in the past week, the Pickrels’ ex-neighbours et cetera.

  Sighing heavily, she turned back to face the team. “So many bloody unanswered questions. It’s so annoying.”

  “Are we definitely linking the crimes?” Brian asked, taking in what was written on the board.

  “I think we have to go down that route. Remember we’re looking at the same MO here.”

  Jack grunted. “That could be down to a copycat killer. I’m going to say something now, and hear me out before you leap down my throat.” His comment was aimed at Sally. She nodded for him to continue. “It’s bugging me why you’ve circled everyone’s name on that board bar one.”

  Sally studied the board and shook her head. “Nope, not with you, Jack.”

  “I think I know where he’s going. Louie Pickrel,” Brian offered.

  Jack’s nod was slow and deliberate when it came.

  Sally was floored by the suggestion but finally relented and circled Louie’s name along with the others. “So what now? We haven’t got the manpower to put surveillance on all these people. Do we interview them all again? Ask for alibis as to where they were last night?” She shrugged. “I’m at a loss how to approach this one. Brian?”

  “Why don’t we think about it overnight? Time’s getting on, and I need to bring my boss up to date on things.”

  Sally nodded and then clicked her fingers. “Actually, that might not be a bad idea. We should have the sketch from the artist by the morning. Why don’t you drop by about ten, Brian? Things should be a little clearer by then.”

  “Yep, I’ll do that. Thanks for today, Inspector. It was nice meeting you all.” He waved and left the room after the team had responded.

  “Well, that’s our case put to bed for the night. Want to share with us how you guys got on today, Stuart?”

  He picked up his notebook and ran through how their day had panned out. “We decided to go to the sausage factory where Lucinda used to work, to have a word with her colleagues. God, have you ever even contemplated how mundane factory work is? I couldn’t stand there on a production line for eight hours a day, I’d go loopy.”

  Sally smiled and motioned for him to get on with things.

  “Anyway, we spoke
to three ladies. Two were forthcoming with information, and the third was very reluctant at first.”

  “Any idea why the third lady was reluctant to speak with you?”

  “Not really. Although she did tell us that the other two ladies knew Lucinda better than she had.”

  “Fair enough. And what did you glean from your conversation with these women, Stuart?”

  “The first two, Cora and Liz, still seemed really upset by the loss of their friend. Couldn’t understand what had gone wrong in her marriage, told us that Lucinda and Roger were a solid partnership.”

  “Interesting. Is that the impression you got after speaking with the husband when you visited him in prison the other day?” Sally asked.

  Stuart glanced at Jordan. “Have to say yes on that one, boss. He didn’t come across as a killer to us. I know we have to be wary of being taken in by these prisoners, but even so. I’d put my house on him being innocent.”

  Sally rested her chin on her half-clenched hand. “So, if he didn’t do it, then who did? She was poisoned, do we know with what? Let me see the PM report on this one, Stuart?”

  He passed her the file. She flipped it open and flicked through the loose sheets of paper to find the post-mortem report. She scan read it and paused at the ‘cause of death’ section. The toxicology tests carried out found large traces of wolfsbane and deadly nightshade in the deceased’s blood. “Not heard of wolfsbane before. Anyone else?”

  “I hadn’t,” Jordan replied, “So I Googled it. Wolfsbane is more commonly known as aconitum. While I’m not a gardener, I asked my dad, and he said he’d heard about the flower, said it was quite popular at one time.”

  “Interesting, okay. We’ve all heard of deadly nightshade, right?”

  “Yes, I had, but I Googled it all the same. Here’s the thing… I discovered that atropine, a drug extracted from the plant, is used in eye examinations.”

  Sally raised a finger. “I see where this is leading. It’s possible that someone was being treated for an eye problem and they used the medication to poison the poor woman.”

  “You want me to delve into people’s medical records?” Stuart asked, wide-eyed.

  “I think that’s going to be the only way we find out what truly happened to this woman. How many people worked at the factory?”