Lucy smiled then, a broad, wonderful smile which made Talith warm to her even more. ‘Would you like another coffee,’ she offered.
‘Thanks.’
The walk was brisk which kept them warm. They parked at the bottom and threaded up the hill, passing Spring Cottage, which had been Mary Webb’s home, Bobby, their Welsh Border Collie, giving little yaps of delight and straining on his lead. They climbed until they could see the Stretton Hills, Stiperstones and the distinctive, conical shape of the Wrekin. As she had anticipated Lyth Hill was full of sledgers and she watched them whoop and scream with a tinge of envy. Oh, for just one trip down the hill. They walked for a couple of hours, Sam striding ahead, Agnetha and Sukey arm in arm, chatting so vivaciously they hardly noticed where they were going, even taking a wrong turn a couple of times until Martha and Sam shouted them back. Martha took a few photographs, both of the snow scenes and her family and then they all trooped home to a Sunday roast, Sam sitting at the table, extolling the virtues of football and bemoaning all the games cancelled because of the freezing weather, Sukey and Agnetha being more useful, helping to peel the potatoes, lay the table and open a bottle of wine. It was a warm family day, always with that one person missing, but Martha was finishing with regrets now. It had taken her a long time but she was very much back to her old self.
Talith detoured on the way back to the station to inspect the hospital car park. Alice was the owner of a Vauxhall Zafira. He’d checked the number plate on the PNC and drove towards the back of the hospital to the A &E entrance, easy to spot because of its red signs. Alice’s car was also easy to spot. Slewed across two parking spaces and with a ticket already on the screen, warning that the car must be removed – or else. Talith added one of his own: ‘Police Aware’. He’d get it taken in to forensics although he doubted they’d find much there. He tried the door. The car was unlocked, the keys still in the ignition. Lucky it was the Shrewsbury Hospital. Had it been Telford it would have been gone by now. He pocketed the keys and peered in. As he’d thought it was neat and tidy and there was nothing on the floor except…
He slipped a glove on and picked up a child’s plastic rattle. The colours were pale and slightly faded. It didn’t look new. He shook it and heard little bells jingle.
Jingle all the way, he thought, before replacing the rattle on the floor and locking the door. He had the feeling that no child had played with this for a while. It would have to be officially found – again – by the SOCOs but it posed another question. Had the rattle been found with the child? Or was it a contribution from Alice? Talith realized that in his mind he had all but solved the case. However long the child had been dead for, the estate agents could let them know who had lived there then and, ‘Bob’s your uncle, Talith,’ he muttered to himself.
He made a quick call to the station to organize removal of the car and climbed back into his own. Talith was not normally a reflective man but this case was a learning curve for him. As he leaned forward and started the engine he mused that most cases were reduced to a random collection of odd, unconnected objects.
Like the rattle.
He returned to the station in time to see the recovery lorry setting out and gave them the keys.
Wheels in motion, he thought with satisfaction.
Two hours later he had finished his reports and was ready to go home to his own Sunday meal and put his feet up in front of the television.
In the Palk household Justin and Acantha were finding it hard not to talk to their house guest about the subject which was occupying their minds.
The trouble was that Acantha couldn’t seem to find a neutral subject. All topics led straight back to the one the three of them were struggling to avoid. Even if she asked a polite, innocuous question, like what exactly her daughter was doing these days, it always seemed to lead back to ‘Don’t tell her, Acantha. Don’t tell her.’
In the end Acantha gave in. ‘Then tell
‘You already know what happened,’ Alice insisted plaintively. ‘I went up into the loft to see about the conversion that Aaron wants to do.’
‘Yes?’
‘I wondered about moving the hot water tank. Then I noticed…’
‘What?’
‘I saw what I thought was a bit of old blanket stuffing up a hole. I thought there might be mice – rats even – so I pulled it out and
‘That isn’t quite the story you gave the police,’ Acantha said.
Justin, very wisely, was saying nothing.
‘I’ve had time to think about it.’ Alice was more rational, defiant even. ‘Remember it properly.’ Acantha couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that her friend was defending something.
‘You must have realized there was no point in taking it to a hospital.’
‘I didn’t know where else to take her.’
‘How did you know she was called Poppy? Was her name stitched on the blanket?’
‘I don’t remember. There’s no point you pushing me. I don’t remember everything.’
‘OK,’ Acantha said resignedly. ‘But when you got to the hospital you simply sat there?’
‘I didn’t know the system.’ Alice was sounding aggressive now.
Her friend could have pointed out that she had had a broken night’s sleep as well as acting as both her lawyer and her guarantor so the least she owed her was a truthful explanation, but she had the feeling that if pressed Alice would hide behind the ‘I don’t remember’ explanation. It could be a very convenient way of avoiding the truth.
Acantha watched her drink her coffee, butter her toast, spread the marmalade. On the one hand she realized her friend was stressed and she must allow her some leeway. On the other hand she had been a solicitor long enough to know that when criminals couldn’t conjure up an explanation they frequently hid behind the excuse of a poor memory or amnesia.
Alice burst out suddenly, ‘Why do you keep asking? Why do you keep pressing me for answers, answers I don’t have. I don’t have the answers,’ she repeated. ‘You know that I was trying to work out the loft conversion and I came across…’
‘Yes, yes,’ Acantha prompted impatiently. ‘I know that but I don’t understand when you found the body why didn’t you just ring the police? And you -’ she looked directly at her friend – ‘haven’t even come near giving me a good reason.’
Alice looked confused and a little vulnerable. ‘There’s a lot I don’t remember and a lot I don’t know. I…’ It was as though the spark of an idea came to her. ‘I suppose,’ she said brightly, ‘I was temporarily insane.’
It all seemed a little too convenient. Acantha bit her lip, gave her husband a swift look across the table and knew his thoughts were very close to hers.
So she decided to press Alice. ‘Look, Alice,’ she said, ‘you may as well try and think up some answers other than that you don’t know, because at some point you’re going to have to answer all these questions to the police satisfactorily and if you can’t do that it may well be that they charge you.’
Alice looked alarmed. ‘What with? What on earth could they possibly charge me with? I haven’t
‘I don’t know but I do know what the police are like. I’ve worked with them for enough years,’ Acantha said dryly. ‘They like answers, Alice, to their questions. Answers that make sense. And if they don’t get the right answers they get suspicious. It’ll be the worse for you, I can promise you, so you’d better start thinking and remembering.’
Her friend looked at her with dismay. ‘But I can’t remember.’
‘Can’t you?’
‘No.’ The two friends looked at each other and Acantha suddenly thought that though she would have called Alice Sedgewick one of her best friends she was realizing now that she didn’t really know her at all. She looked at her friend through new eyes. Her lawyer’s instinct was whispering to her that there was much more to this episode than met the eye. To her the entire story was unconvincing. Alice Sedgewick was holding something back. She could read it in her eyes.
