up there too.’ She looked at him carefully and pressed on with her story. Because Alex felt that it was that – a story. ‘Just for curtains and cushion covers and things. I also wondered exactly how the staircase would fit in so I thought I’d go up and measure etcetera.’ Again she smiled. ‘I hate going up that metallic extending ladder. I hate the noise, you know, and never quite feel safe on it.’
Particularly clutching a dead infant, Alex thought.
‘But I managed it with a tape measure and stuff and I started writing down the measurements but the wretched tank was always in the way and I couldn’t understand why it had been boarded in like that. I mean it wasn’t as though I could use it as an airing cupboard. Tanks these days are really well insulated. It seemed unnecessary, so I started pulling the planking off. Then I found what I thought was wadding and pulled at that too. It all seemed pretty old to me. Then I felt something hard, papery, dry and then I pulled it out.’ Her hands flew up to her face. ‘I didn’t know what it was, at first, inspector. I thought it might be a dead cat or something. Then I realized.’ She gave a convulsive shudder. ‘I felt little legs. A head. It was horrible, inspector, horrible. The blanket fell away. Then I could see it was a baby. I didn’t know what to do with it. So I brought it down the ladder.’
For the first time, Alex interrupted. ‘You switched the light off?’
She hadn’t expected this. ‘Sorry?’ she said politely.
‘Did you switch the light off or was there somebody else in the house that night or the following morning?’
She frowned. ‘I was on my own,’ she said.
‘So the light?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t a clue whether I switched the light off. I was just holding this…’ She gave another shudder. ‘Thing in my arms and…’
Alex waited.
‘I went into…’ She stopped herself. ‘I went into one of the bedrooms and found a little blanket to wrap the baby in. And then I drove.’ She closed her eyes. ‘I drove and drove and then I saw the sign to the hospital A &E in red. I just went in there. I thought they would know what to do.’
‘OK,’ Alex said, ‘but once there?’
‘I just sat.’
Alex thought quickly. ‘Where did you live before you moved to The Mount?’
‘Bayston Hill.’
It was a suburb off the A49 to the south of Shrewsbury, just outside the ring road. ‘The address, please?’
Acantha Palk looked as though she was about to raise another objection but she settled back in her seat without interrupting.
Alice gave the address and Alex thanked her.
‘You haven’t really explained,’ he said, scratching the top of his head, ‘why you named the child apparently after your grandmother.’
Alice Sedgewick shrugged and gave him an endearing smile, offering him no further explanation at all. She met his eyes with sharp intelligence and he knew that she was aware of this too.
‘Are there any more questions,’ Acantha Palk asked crisply.
‘Only one.’
Both women waited. ‘You don’t have any grandchildren, Mrs Sedgewick, do you?’
‘No. My daughter is a career woman and Gregory… Well – Gregory’s gay, so it’s pretty unlikely.’
‘Do any children come and stay with you? Nephews, nieces, children or friends’ children?’
She stared at him. She knew exactly what he was asking.
And she wasn’t going to answer. So Alex Randall smiled and stood up. ‘That’s all for now, thank you.’
Acantha Palk turned as she left the room after her client. ‘And how are your investigations going, inspector?’
He didn’t even attempt to answer the question. She would have seen right through him and know they were not really getting anywhere. He was on the point of dropping the enquiry. But…
When the two women had left Alex sat back and remembered talking to a junior officer about interrogating a suspect. He had analogized the answer to each question to waves moving on the shore, some crashing down with drama and noise, a huge visual experience, which seemed to flood the beach. Others simply slid over the sand, insignificant and quiet. But whatever the size or depth or volume of a wave the tide still came in relentlessly, crawling, creeping, moving up the beach. Investigations moved forward at varying rates and with varying drama, but move forward they did in
The talk had been a few years ago and the junior detective he had been teaching had been Sergeant Paul Talith.
So what had he learned by this interview?
Most importantly of all he had shared Alice’s state of mind when she had discovered the corpse. She had not, however, confided in him the secret of the child’s room. And there was a secret, Alex Randall was certain of it. She was hiding something and he wasn’t absolutely certain that even her friend and solicitor knew what it was. He had read the same doubts and confusion that he felt mirrored in Acantha’s face.
An hour later he had a further unpleasant experience. It began with a phone call from the desk sergeant who sounded grim and pessimistic. ‘Got someone here called Sedgewick,’ he said. ‘Rosie Sedgewick. Says she’s…’
‘I know who she is,’ Alex said wearily. He was heartily sick of the Sedgewick clan. ‘Send her in.’
Rosie Sedgewick was one of those very thin women who appear to have been born with angular features and a sharp, disapproving expression. She’d also been cursed with her father’s hooked nose. The effect was not beautiful.
In addition she had a harsh rasping voice that probably stood her in good stead in the courtroom but grated on the detective. ‘Are you Detective Inspector Randall?’
He winced.
‘I’m Rosie Sedgewick,’ she announced. ‘I’d better warn you that I am a barrister. Now this -’ she sat down – ‘is an informal talk. I want to know why you are continually hounding my mother over this affair.’
‘It’s obvious, isn’t it?’
‘I know the facts,’ Rosie said, ‘but my mother was simply the person who stumbled on the body. Why are you still questioning her?’
‘There were a few anomalies in her statement.’
Rosie drew in a deep, sighing breath. ‘Come on, inspector.’ It was a failed attempt at pallyness ‘I’m a lawyer, for goodness sake. Give me one statement that doesn’t have the odd anomaly in it. My mother was very shocked by the discovery and has been very upset at your continued intrusion. I understand you still have your team of bloodhounds at the house and questioned her
‘That’s correct,’ Alex said. ‘And she appeared well and in full control of herself. The interview did not distress her in any way.’
‘As I understand it,’ Rosie continued, ‘you’re going to be pursuing another line of investigation – the people who lived in number 41
‘Certainly – that’s correct,’ Alex said.
‘Well, please leave my mother out of this,’ Rosie said. ‘She can be quite vulnerable. It could have a very bad effect on her.’
Randall was surprised at Rosie Sedgewick. If she was a lawyer she couldn’t possibly think that this appeal would cut any ice. It was positively naive. ‘I’m afraid,’ he said carefully, ‘that I can’t promise that.’
‘She has been under a psychiatrist, you know, for depression.’
‘Oh?’ It was news to him and Acantha had not mentioned this.
‘Oh, well.’ Rosie Sedgewick shrugged. ‘Don’t say I haven’t warned you.’
‘Thank you for that.’
They stood up, shook hands and the woman left, leaving Randall staring at the closed door. After a minute he sat back down, calmer. The girl was only trying to protect her mother whom she saw as vulnerable. He must excuse
