Aftermath

small, isolated communities. The families lived next door to one another in two semis in Alderthorpe, just far enough away from the other houses in the village to be guaranteed their privacy. It’s a remote enough part of the world to begin with. Have you ever been there?”

“Not yet.”

“You should. Just to get the feel of the place. It’s creepy.”

“I intend to. Were they true, then? The allegations.”

“The police would be able to tell you more about that. I was mostly responsible for separating the children and making sure they were cared for, getting them examined, and for fostering them, too, of course.”

“All of them?”

“I didn’t do it all on my own, but I was in overall charge, yes.”

“Did any of them ever go back to their parents?”

“No. Oliver and Geraldine Murray were charged with Kathleen’s murder and are still in jail, as far as I know. Michael Godwin committed suicide two days before the trial and his wife was declared unfit to stand trial. I believe she’s still in care. A mental institution, I mean.”

“There’s no doubt about who did what, then?”

“As I said, the police would know more about that than me, but… If ever I’ve come face-to-face with evil in my life, it was there, that morning.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened, it was just… I don’t know… the aura around the place.”

“Did you go inside?”

“No. The police wouldn’t let us. They said we’d only contaminate the scene. We had a van, a heated van, and they brought the children out to us.”

“What about the satanic angle? I understand it didn’t come up in court.”

“Wasn’t necessary, the lawyers said. Would only confuse things.”

“Was there any evidence?”

“Oh, yes, but if you ask me, it was nothing but a load of mumbo jumbo to justify drinking, drug-taking and abusing the children. The police found cocaine and marijuana in both houses, you know, along with some LSD, ketamine and Ecstasy.”

“Is that case why you gave up social work?”

Elizabeth paused before answering. “Partly, yes. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back, if you like. But I was already close to burning out long before that. It takes it out of you, it does, dealing with ill-treated kids all the time. You lose sight of the humanity, the dignity of life. Do you know what I mean?”

“I think so,” said Jenny. “Spending too much time with criminals has a similar effect.”

“But these were children. They had no choice.”

“I see what you mean.”

“You meet some proper losers down at the benefits office, believe me, but it’s not like child care.”

“What state was Lucy in?”

“Same as the rest. Dirty, hungry, bruised.”

“Sexually abused?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“What was she like?”

“Linda? Or I suppose I’d better start calling her Lucy from now on, hadn’t I? She was a sweet little thing. Shy and scared. Standing there with a blanket around her and that look on her face like a grubby little angel. She hardly said a word.”

“Could she speak?”

“Oh, yes. One of the children, Susan, I think, lost the use of her voice, but not Lucy. She’d been abused in just about every way imaginable, yet she was surprisingly resilient. She’d speak if she wanted to, but I never once saw her cry. In fact, she seemed to have assumed the role of caregiver to the younger ones, though she wasn’t in a position to offer much in the way of care. She was the eldest, at least, so maybe she could offer them some comfort. You’d know more about this than I do, but I guessed she was repressing the full horror of what she’d been through, holding it back. I often wondered what would become of her. I never suspected anything like this.”

“The problem is, Elizabeth-”

“Call me Liz, please. Everyone does.”

“Okay. Liz. The problem is that we just don’t know what Lucy’s role in all this is. She claims amnesia, and she was certainly abused by her husband. We’re trying to find out whether she knew anything about his other activities, or to what degree she might have been involved.”

“You can’t be serious! Lucy involved in something like that? Surely her own experiences-”

“I know it sounds crazy, Liz, but the abused often become the abusers. It’s all they know. Power, pain, withholding, tormenting. It’s a familiar cycle. Studies have shown that abused children as young as eight or ten have gone on to abuse their younger siblings or neighbors.”

“But not Lucy, surely?”

“We don’t know. That’s why I’m asking questions, trying to fit the psychology together, build a profile of her. Is there anything more you can tell me?”

“Well, as I said, she was quiet, resilient, and the other children, the younger ones, seemed to defer to her.”

“Were they afraid of her?”

“I can’t say I got that impression.”

“But they took notice of her?”

“Yes. She was definitely the boss.”

“What else can you tell me about Lucy’s personality then?”

“Let me think… not much, really. She was a very private person. She’d only let you see what she wanted you to see. You have to realize that these children were probably as much, if not more, shaken up by the raid, by being taken from their parents so abruptly. That was all they knew, after all. It might have been hell, but it was a familiar hell. Lucy always seemed gentle, but like most children she could be cruel on occasion.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t mean torturing animals or that sort of thing,” said Elizabeth. “I assume that is the sort of thing you’re looking for, isn’t it?”

“Such early patterns of behavior can be a useful guide, but I’ve always thought they were overrated, myself. To be honest, I once pulled the wings off a fly myself. No, I just want to know about her. How could she be cruel, for example?”

“When we were arranging for foster parents, for example, you realize it was impossible to keep the siblings together, so they had to be split up. It was more important at the time that each child have a stable, possibly long- term caring environment. Anyway, I remember Laura, in particular – Lucy’s younger sister – was upset, but all Lucy said was she’d just have to get used to it. The poor girl just wouldn’t stop crying.”

“Where did she end up?”

“Laura? With a family in Hull, I believe. It’s a long time ago, so forgive me if I don’t remember all the details.”

“Of course. Can you tell me what happened to any of the other children at all?”

“I’m afraid I left there shortly after, so I never got to keep track of them. I often wish I had, but…”

“Is there anything more you can tell me?”

Elizabeth stood up and went back to her ironing. “Not that I can think of.”

Jenny stood up, took her card from her purse and handed it over. “If you think of anything at all…”

Elizabeth peered at the card and set it on the edge of the ironing board. “Yes, of course. I’m only too glad to have been of help.”

But she didn’t look it, Jenny thought as she maneuvered her car out of the tiny parking spot. Elizabeth Bell had looked like a woman forced to confront memories she would sooner forget. And Jenny didn’t blame her. She didn’t know if she’d learned anything much of value except confirmation that satanic paraphernalia had been found in the cellar. Banks would certainly be interested in that. Tomorrow, she would go all the way to Alderthorpe and see if