the last. ‘There was an investigation?’ He turned back again. ‘Why weren’t we told about this?’ He noticed the date and pinned it with his finger. ‘This was after. This was since Daniel’s arrest. Why weren’t we told about this?’
Karen raised a shoulder. ‘I’m guessing they don’t have to tell you.’
Leo read, gobbling the words too quickly for them to properly register. He looked at Karen. ‘How did you…’
‘I have a friend.’
Leo looked again at the report. ‘She took a risk, giving this to you.’
‘We’re close,’ said Karen, ‘he and I.’
Leo raised his head. Karen lowered hers.
‘And anyway,’ she said, ‘it doesn’t help particularly. Not in the way you might expect.’
Leo read aloud: ‘“No evidence of abuse is established.”’ He skimmed. ‘“Daniel’s name will not be entered on the Child Protection Register.”’
‘And here . Look.’
Leo tracked Karen’s fingertip. ‘“No connection has been established between any abuse and the alleged offence.”’ He looked up. ‘In other words…’
‘“It wasn’t our fault. There’s no way they can pin this on us.”’
Leo sniffed. ‘Well. That’s all right then. So long as social services have got their own arses covered, nobody has anything to worry about. Their jobs are safe.’
‘From what my friend told me, the investigation wasn’t exactly comprehensive. But that was the point,’ Karen said. ‘It was an exercise in self-exoneration.’
Leo tossed the report onto the table. ‘They still should have told us. Even if it doesn’t help Daniel’s defence, they are morally obligated to—’
‘Not so fast.’ Karen gathered together the sheets and started flicking. ‘It doesn’t help in the way you might expect. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t help at all. Read here.’
She thrust the pages towards him.
‘But we knew about this,’ said Leo after a moment. Daniel, as a toddler, had a history of visits to the emergency ward: twice following ‘falls’, once after swallowing household bleach, a fourth time after ingesting tricyclic antidepressants. He thought they were sweets, Daniel’s mother had explained at the time; he must have done. ‘They investigated,’ Leo said. ‘It says so right here. “Concerns were raised but were demonstrated to be unfounded.”’
‘Unfounded,’ Karen echoed. ‘Please. A baby has four near-fatal accidents in his first thirty-six months and social services see no cause for concern.’
‘They must have looked into it, though. They must have asked questions.’
‘It’s where they looked that’s important. It’s what kind of questions they asked, of whom.’ Karen shook her head. ‘I’m not blaming social services,’ she said, not entirely convincingly. ‘They’re underfunded, understaffed, underappreciated. The point is, something was clearly going on. Maybe we knew the facts before but we didn’t know the context. Daniel’s medical record, tied with his mother’s depression…’
‘Her depression? How do you know she was depressed?’
‘Not was. Is. You don’t need to be a doctor to diagnose that. I’m guessing about when it started but it certainly pre-dates the murder. My hunch would be post-natal. The pills Daniel swallowed could have been anybody’s but most likely they were Mummy’s or Daddy’s.’
‘You think Mummy’s.’
‘I do. Who gave Daniel the pills, though, is another question.’
‘Who
‘Gave them to him, left them out for him to find – it amounts to the same thing.’
‘But it could have been an accident. Couldn’t it? You don’t think you’re jumping to conclusions?’
‘It could. And yes, I am. But that’s what I’m here for. Isn’t it?’
Leo puffed his cheeks. He stared at the pages, not seeing the words.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Let’s say you’re right. So what? How does what happened to Daniel as a baby have any connection with the crime he’s accused of now?’
‘It doesn’t,’ Karen said. ‘Not if you’re looking for a direct link. Indirectly, though, it explains everything. It sets a pattern. It establishes the nature of Daniel’s relationship with those closest to him and by extension with everyone around him. Depending on who you believe, Leo, it’s what happens to us in our formative years that most influences our behaviour as adults.’
‘Show me the child and I’ll show you the man. Who said that? John Lennon?’
‘Stalin, actually. Also, the Jesuits. But yes, that kind of thing. And it’s doubly true in the case of sexual abuse.’
‘Sexual abuse? Jesus Christ, Karen.’
‘What? You’re surprised?’
‘No. I mean, I wouldn’t have been. But the pills: that’s one thing. You’re saying he was sexually abused too?’
‘I’m saying it’s likely. More than likely. For a start, eighty per cent of abusers have themselves suffered abuse. Daniel was moulded, Leo – he wasn’t manufactured.’
‘But the report.’ Leo lifted the pages, knocking his coffee cup. ‘What did it say. It said…’
‘It said they found no evidence. But it only dug as deep as it needed to, remember – mainly into the past few years. As far as I’m concerned, it skirted the most interesting period of Daniel’s life.’
Leo looked again at the pages, searching for what Karen meant.
‘There’s nothing to see,’ she told him. ‘And that’s why it’s interesting. Apart from when he was a toddler and the two years just passed, there isn’t any detail at all. Except here,’ she said, pointing to a paragraph barely three lines long. ‘There was a sustained phase of truancy, noted but never explained. It coincides with Daniel’s father leaving home, with his mother…’
‘“Coping”. Whatever that means.’
‘Exactly. So in the most traumatic period of his life – not counting the actual physical trauma he seems to have suffered – Daniel barely gets noticed. He was sexually abused, probably. His father hit him, then left him. His mother – his only carer – was clinically depressed. But through all of that Daniel was… well…’
‘He was alone.’
Karen nodded. ‘He was alone.’
The coffee in Leo’s cup had spilled onto the saucer. There were puddles, too, on the wooden tabletop and Leo dabbed at them distractedly with a napkin.
‘Can we use this, do you think?’ He was talking to himself as much as Karen but she answered anyway.
‘You’re the lawyer, Leo. It’s a narrative but there’s very little in the way of evidence.’
Leo frowned and raised his head. ‘Why now, though? Why, if Daniel was so damaged, did it take so long for the damage to show?’
‘A seed has to grow. Throw on enough manure, sprinkle a few hormones – sooner or later you reap what you sow. And probably the signs were there all along. Someone has to be watching for them, however.’
Leo pondered. ‘The abuse,’ he said, not wanting to consider it. ‘You don’t think… I mean, his stepfather. Vincent Blake. You don’t think…’
‘He seems the type, doesn’t he? But Daniel was, what? Ten when Blake came on the scene? I don’t know. There’s no love lost between them, clearly, but…’ Karen tugged her lips sideways. ‘There’s something interesting, though. Don’t you think? About Vincent’s relationship with Stephanie.’
‘Hm?’ Leo was thinking, churning.
‘Vincent and Stephanie. He bullies her and she lets him but… I don’t know. There’s something else at work there too. He’s insecure, clearly. Bitter, too, about something.’
‘I thought all bullies were insecure,’ said Leo idly. ‘I thought that’s why they ended up being bullies.’
‘I suppose.’ Karen looked at Leo and smiled. ‘You should be sitting where I am.’
Leo did not smile back. ‘I’d be glad to,’ he said. ‘ To be honest, I’d take any chair right now that wasn’t my own.’
