A uniformed officer had been posted in the forecourt outside. At Madden's direction he made a list of everything taken from the nursery, which the inspector signed.
'I'm removing these articles from the house,' he told the constable. 'My compliments to Mr Boyce and see that he's informed.'
The avenue of limes led to a pleasant half-timbered house with a garage on one side where a red Wolseley two-seater was parked. The maid, whom Madden had seen upstairs on his previous visit, answered the doorbell.
She led him straight through the drawing-room out into the garden. Dr Blackwell was seated in an arbour at one end of the terrace with a little girl beside her. Sophy Fletcher had waist-length fair hair.
She was dressed in a blue muslin frock belted with a yellow sash.
At the sight of the inspector she sprang from her chair and threw herself on to the doctor's lap, burying her face in her shoulder.
Shocked, Madden halted. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to alarm her.'
He turned to go back inside the house, but Helen Blackwell called out to him, 'Don't go, please.'
To the child, she said, 'Sophy, this is Inspector Madden. He's a policeman.'
The little girl, her face still hidden, gave no response. Madden could see her body trembling.
'Come and sit down,' the doctor urged him. 'I want Sophy to get used to being with strangers again.'
Privately she wondered if it wasn't the inspector's grim aspect that had upset the child. She saw that Madden was carrying a bag in each hand.
'You'll have some lemonade with us, won't you?'
She sought to lighten the deep frown with a smile.
'Mary, pour the inspector a glass, would you?' A jug and glasses stood on the table in front of them.
Madden tugged open the laundry bag. 'I brought some of Sophy's clothes from the Lodge,' he explained.
'How very kind of you.' She was touched by his gesture. 'I was going to ask about that. This is something Mary ran up.' She patted the blue muslin back. 'Luckily Sophy left a pair of shoes here on her last visit.'
'You wanted to talk to me?'
'Yes, please. Later…?' She glanced down at the fair head. 'Could you stay a little while?' He nodded.
'I have a patient to see in the village, but I shan't be long.'
She watched as he sat down and began emptying the brown-paper packet he had brought. He took out several dolls and a teddy bear and began arranging them in a circle on the grassed flagstones in front of him. Mary hovered. The inspector looked up. 'Do you have any old tea-cups?' he asked. 'The more chipped the better. And perhaps a jug of water?'
Dr Blackwell nodded to the maid, who went into the house.
'Sophy…' She nudged the small figure on her lap.
'Look what the inspector's brought.'
The child didn't move. Her face stayed sealed to the doctor's shoulder.
The maid returned with a tray bearing an array of china. She put it on the ground beside Madden. He began to lay out the crockery, rattling the cups and saucers as he did so. Helen Blackwell felt a small movement. The child had turned her head. She was watching out of the corner of her eye.
Madden put a cup and saucer in front of each toy, then placed the jug of water in the centre of the circle.
'Someone will have to pour,' he announced.
Mary started forward, but Dr Blackwell checked her with a gesture. The little girl was stirring. She climbed slowly off the doctor's lap. Keeping a wary eye on Madden she approached the circle of figures and dropped to her knees in front of them. She studied the group for several seconds. Then she picked up the teddy bear and placed him at the head of the circle near Madden's feet. Her eyes met his. Whatever she saw in the inspector's sombre glance seemed to reassure her and she lifted the jug of water and began to pour.
Dr Blackwell rose. 'I must go and see my patient,' she said, without urgency. 'Can I leave you here for a little while, Inspector?'
He nodded in answer.
'Sophy, I'll be back soon.'
The child, absorbed in the business of filling the cups, made no reply.
When the doctor returned half an hour later she found the arbour deserted. Mary was standing at the edge of the terrace with folded arms looking out over the garden. Helen Blackwell joined her and saw Madden and Sophy, hand in hand, at the bottom of the lawn, near the orchard.
'Did he take her down there?' she asked the maid.
'No, she took him, ma'am.' Mary smiled. 'She's showing him the garden.'
'Is she talking to him?' Dr Blackwell hardly dared to hope.
'No, just pointing.'
As she spoke, the little girl lifted her hand and indicated the weeping beech at the edge of the lawn.
They went there together and vanished from sight beneath the drooping branches. After a minute they reappeared. The child stood close to Madden with her head bowed while the inspector bent over her and carefully picked the twigs from her hair.
'He's talking to her,' Mary observed.
Dr Blackwell said nothing. She found herself feeling breathless in the hot midday sun.
'Let's go inside.' She drew the maid away. 'I don't want her to see us watching.'
From the drawing-room window they observed the little girl lead Madden back to the terrace. At the bottom of the steps she halted and reached up her arms to him. He lifted her easily, and in a moment she had attached herself to him, winding her arms about his neck and pressing her cheek to his shoulder.
He stood still, as though stunned, then turned and slowly mounted the steps to the terrace. Helen Black well saw the tears on his cheeks.
'Oh, ma'am…' Mary said beside her.
The doctor moved away from the window.
'Mary, would you go and ask Cook to get Sophy's lunch ready?' she said. 'I'll bring her through in a moment.'
As soon as the maid had gone Helen Blackwell sat down in a chair and lit a cigarette. She felt drained of energy. She wanted to sit quietly and think.
But there was something she had to do at once, an urgent problem that needed solving, and after less than a minute she extinguished the cigarette, ran her fingers through her hair and went out on to the terrace to speak to Inspector Madden.
'She wants to send the child to Scotland? Och, John, I can't let her do that.'
'It might be the best thing, sir.'
They were sitting in what Mr Poole, the landlord of the Rose and Crown, called the snug bar, a panelled recess at the back of the taproom. He had set it aside for the use of the police. The main bar was shut — it was the middle of the afternoon — but they could hear the barmaid at work cleaning up. She was singing a song Madden remembered from the war.
K-K-K-Katy, my beautiful Katy,
You're the only g-g-g-girl that I adore…
'What will I tell the Yard?'
'What Dr Blackwell told me. It's her professional opinion. The child would be better off with her family — she still has a brother alive, remember — and also more likely to recover if she's away from here.'
Sinclair frowned discouragingly. 'You say her aunt and uncle are coming down from Scotland for the funerals?'
'Yes, on Friday. Dr Blackwell would like Sophy to go back with them.'
'The child hasn't said a word yet?'
'No, but Dr Blackwell thinks she will soon. Start speaking 'Well, then?' Sinclair raised his eyebrows.
'The doctor believes it's unlikely she'll talk about what happened that night. In fact, she may have blocked it out of her mind. Repressed memory, I believe it's called.' Madden paused. 'Dr Blackwell's already spoken to
