by Jan Newton
Lizzie shook her head. ‘No. I don’t know Mrs Pritchard. I’ve never met her.’ She looked down and her hair drifted across her face.
Julie leaned forward across the table, so she could see Lizzie’s eyes as she asked the next question. ‘But you do know Mr Pritchard, don’t you, Lizzie?’
The effect was more than Julie could have hoped for. Lizzie burst into spectacular snot-laden sobs which streaked mascara down her cheeks and caused both Swift and Eurig to shift uncomfortably in their seats.
‘Do I take that as a positive, Lizzie?’ Julie’s voice was uncharacteristically soft and Swift raised an eyebrow.
Lizzie nodded. ‘I only found him last summer.’ She dabbed at her wrecked makeup and blew her nose, leaving a black smudge. ‘I never knew I had a dad until last year. Thirty-eight years old and suddenly I had a father.’
‘That must have been quite a shock. How did you find him?’ Julie was calm, as if nothing had just happened.
‘My mum died a year ago last Christmas. She never spoke of my father. It was always a taboo subject. All the years I was growing up, all through school when all the other kids used to talk about their dads, I was the one who’d never known her father. She told me he was dead. She actually said he died before I was born.’ She managed a small, private smile, and blew her nose. ‘She told me he died in a trawler accident off the coast of Fleetwood.’
‘So how did you find out about your father? Did he contact you?’
Another shake of the head. ‘He didn’t know I existed. When Mum went into a hospice I had to go through all her things. I didn’t have long to linger about it. The council wanted the house back within seven days. There were boxes and boxes of paperwork going back to when I was born.’ Lizzie frowned. ‘I hadn’t seen any of it before. There was a name and address scrawled on a piece of paper in the bottom of a shoebox. That’s all I had to go on.’
‘That must have given you a moment, finding out you did have a dad after all that time.’
‘I think it gave Dad more of a moment than me, Sergeant. He’s married with grown up kids.’
‘So you had a ready-made step-family too.’ Julie frowned. ‘Why was it that you could tell your father about running away with Sean, but you didn’t tell your husband?’
‘It’s not like it sounds.’
‘And how does it sound, Lizzie?’ Julie’s voice was sympathetic, and she was surprised to find that she actually meant it. That was a worry.
‘I didn’t want to get my husband involved in any way with Quigley.’
‘And that’s all it was?’
‘Honestly, Sergeant? I’m not sure any more. John is very concerned about the integrity of his position in the community. He couldn’t handle the fact that I succumbed to depression over the little matter of being unable to conceive a child.’
‘But your father was more understanding?’
‘He doesn’t know about that… side of things. I just didn’t know who else to turn to when Sean and I were in that car, heading out of Blackpool. Rosa didn’t plan any of it, she was absolutely desperate that day, and I didn’t have time to think too hard about it either. I just flung a few clothes in a suitcase and left. Sean and I spent the first few nights in a Travelodge in Chester, but he was so distraught he was making himself poorly and we were drawing attention to ourselves. I had to find somewhere else, somewhere Quigley would never find us.’
‘Did you take him to a doctor?’
‘He was fine. And I couldn’t risk anyone finding out where we were.’
‘Has he seen a doctor at all, since you left Blackpool?’
Lizzie shook her head. ‘It comes and goes, the tummy problem.’ She looked at Julie and then Swift. ‘It’s the anger I can’t cope with.’
‘Sean’s anger?’ Swift was suddenly interested. ‘How old is he?’
‘He’s four, nearly five. But he has these uncontrollable rages. He can be quite terrifying sometimes. Maybe there’s something of his father in him.’
‘And what about you, Lizzie? You must have been more than angry with Quigley. And you were terrified of what he would do to Sean.’ Julie’s voice was calm.
‘What are you saying?’ Lizzie’s eyes narrowed and Eurig raised an eyebrow.
‘Did Rosa bring Quigley to Pwll Bach? Did they come for Sean?’
‘Quigley at the cottage? Forgive me for pointing out the obvious, Sergeant, but the last I heard, Quigley was doing his nasty trade in Blackpool. It’s not far enough away, not by a long shot, but at least he doesn’t know where we are.’
‘Jason Quigley is in the mortuary at our local hospital,’ Swift said. ‘Didn’t you know?’
The look on Lizzie’s face told them everything. Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes as wide as Julie thought it was possible for eyes to go. But when she put both hands over her face and started to shake, Swift exchanged a glance with Eurig.
‘Are you all right, Lizzie? Do you want to stop?’ Swift asked. Lizzie could not reply and Eurig got to his feet. But when Lizzie removed her hands, she was laughing, her shoulders shaking with apparent mirth.
‘Quigley is dead? Are you really sure?’ She giggled. ‘I thought you were making it up.’
Swift nodded. Julie thought he was as perplexed by Lizzie’s response as she was.
‘Has anyone told Rosa?’ Suddenly Lizzie stopped laughing. ‘Rosa needs to know.’
Julie looked at Swift, who was betraying no emotion whatsoever. What the hell was this all about? Lizzie must have known Rosa was dead already. Surely the rumours about the identity of the body on the Monks’ Trod would have reached her by now. Was she in denial or was there something more sinister in the diversionary tactic?
It was Eurig who actually broke the news. From underneath the fringe, which flopped into his eyes, he told her.
‘Lizzie, Rosa is dead too. Her identity has been confirmed by her parents.’
‘No!’ It was a scream which was feral in its intensity. Within a few minutes, Lizzie had experienced the whole range of emotions, and now she sobbed once again.
‘Oh, come on, Lizzie, you must already know that it was Rosa’s body out there on the Monks’ Trod,’ Julie said. Lizzie blew her nose and shook her head. ‘Are you saying you didn’t see her at the cottage at any time and more specifically on the night of the fifth of July?’
Lizzie’s breath still caught in tiny sobs. ‘Rosa? At Pwll Bach? You must be mistaken.’
‘There’s no mistake, Lizzie. The pathologist found Rosa’s blood on the gatepost.’
‘I didn’t see her. I haven’t seen her since that afternoon in my kitchen at home.’ The tears started again. ‘I have this vision of her trying to carry Sean’s little case and shepherd him through the door. She was in so much pain with her poor arm.’
‘But what about Sean? Where is he?’ Swift asked.
‘He’s safe.’
‘We’ve got past that now, Lizzie, this is serious.’ Swift’s voice was a perfect mix of steel and sympathy.
‘And he’s at Bryn AwelB&B in Llandrindod with what Mrs Pritchard describes as his grandfather, isn’t he?’ Julie was already standing.
Lizzie closed her eyes and shrank into her chair. Then, slowly, she nodded. ‘I haven’t told John about my dad.’ She looked up at Julie. ‘Does he have to know?’
‘First things first, Lizzie,’ Swift said. ‘Interview suspended at 14.35.’ He switched off the tape and stood up. ‘We would like you to stay in town for the time being. We will want to speak to you again.’
Julie and Swift hurried from the interview room.
‘Why didn’t you arrest her, Sir? What if she does a runner? She’s obviously making it up as she goes along. What was all the performance about not knowing Rosa was dead?’
‘We still haven’t got any evidence that she was involved in anything other than taking Sean.’ Swift wheezed and slowed down. ‘You know we’ve not got nearly enough to make it stick and we’re nowhere near confident of wrapping this mess up i
mminently. We can get her back in once we’ve got James Pritchard in custody and we’re sure the boy’s safe.’
‘I do hope you’re right, Sir.’
*
Mrs Pritchard was still wary, although she did seem to be slightly mollified by Swift’s presence in place of Morgan’s.
‘May we come in, Mrs Pritchard?’ Swift beamed and managed to insinuate himself into the tiny gap between Mrs Pritchard and the door. She had no option but to take a step backwards and they followed her into the hall. Julie marvelled at how someone of Swift’s rotundity could do that so effortlessly.
‘Do you think we could have another look at the room Rosa was staying in?’ he asked.
‘Why?’
‘Oh it’s just routine.’
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Inspector. I have guests staying in that room.’
‘Could we have a look at your register, do you think?’ Julie asked, walking towards the dining room.
‘It’s not up to date, Sergeant. It was mislaid for a little while and I haven’t caught up with myself yet.’ Mrs Pritchard dithered between the stairs and the dining room door, attempting to prevent either of them from achieving their goal.
‘Have you heard any more from Mr Pritchard since we last spoke to you?’ Julie asked.
Mrs Pritchard was like a rabbit in headlights. It was several seconds before she replied and when she did, it was unconvincing.
‘No, nothing at all I’m afraid. Wherever he is, he’s not going to tell me now.’
‘Have you stopped looking for him then?’ Swift smiled. ‘It must be tempting to draw a line under it all and concentrate on your new life.’
‘It is.’ Mrs Pritchard nodded. ‘I’m getting used to my own company.’
‘I saw a small child when I was here this morning,’ Julie said. ‘Is he one of your guests?’
‘Yes, I er, he’s staying here with his grandfather.’
‘So he’s not staying here as a favour to anyone? Perhaps because of Rosa’s connection with this house?’ Julie said.
‘Certainly not.’ Mrs Pritchard’s reply was too rapid. At the sound of a wail from the next room, Swift pushed past Mrs Pritchard and into the kitchen. At the table sat a small, pale child and a well-dressed man of maybe fifty, fifty-five years old, who appeared to have lost the will to live. His face was almost as pale as the child’s, his hair was lank and uncombed and every shriek of the child’s made him flinch as though the noise caused him physical pain. He stood as Swift and Julie entered.
‘Mid Wales Police. Detective Inspector Swift.’ Swift showed his warrant card. ‘Are you Mr James Pritchard?’ The man nodded, his expression immediately a mixture of concern and relief.
‘And this must be Sean Quigley,’ Julie said, walking round the table to the boy.
‘So it’s over.’ James Pritchard put his head in his hands and rested his forehead on the table. Slowly he sat up, looked from Swift to Julie and finally at the child who was still scowling at him.
After a nod from Swift, Julie recited the caution.
‘James Pritchard, I am arresting you in connection with the murder of Jason Quigley. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?’
‘No.’
‘No, you don’t understand?’
Pritchard shook his head. ‘No. I can’t believe that creature is dead. How do I know you’re telling me the truth?’
‘Why would we lie about it?’ Swift asked. ‘What could we hope to gain?’
‘Inspector, I haven’t slept properly for months. I’ve deceived my wife and my children. I’ve caused people no end of worry and all because of that man. He has pursued us across the country. I have no doubt that he killed his poor wife, and I am convinced that he will not rest until he finds this child.’
‘Believe me, Mr Pritchard, he’s resting now.’ Julie said. ‘Mrs Pritchard, we will be taking your husband into custody and Sean will be examined by a doctor as soon as we can arrange it. You are welcome to come with us. There is a uniformed police officer outside. She will stay with Sean until we can contact social services who will make arrangements for his care.’
Mrs Pritchard fingered the pearls at her throat. ‘Thank you, Sergeant. I will stay here. I have guests arriving shortly. I would be obliged if you could keep me up to date with what is happening.’
Swift took Pritchard’s arm and guided him towards the door into the hall.
‘Just one more question, Mrs Pritchard, if you don’t mind,’ Julie said.
Mrs Pritchard gave a small nod of consent.
‘Did you change the locks when your husband left?’
‘No, Sergeant, I didn’t.’
She didn’t look at her husband or the child who stood half-hidden behind Swift. Sean’s little face looked even paler now, with his huge dark eyes and pale purple semicircles beneath them. He watched her as she walked out of the kitchen. They could hear the stair treads creaking as she climbed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Day Seven
John Slaithwaite was pacing the reception area when they arrived back at the station.
‘I need to take my wife home, Inspector. She’s beside herself, she needs to see her own doctor.’
‘I’m sorry you’re having to wait so long, Mr Slaithwaite, but things aren’t straightforward. Our doctor says she had a panic attack, but that she’ll be fine. It might be better if you were to take her back to the hotel and try to keep her calm. I’ll come and fetch you both if there are any developments.’
Slaithwaite sighed. ‘Thank you, Inspector. I’m sorry, it’s just all been such a shock and we need to get back to Blackpool as soon as we can and attempt to sort a few things out.’
‘I understand, Mr Slaithwaite. Try not to worry.’ Julie knew as soon as the words had left her lips how ridiculous they sounded. She offered him a small grimace, which he accepted.
While Swift waited for Pritchard to be processed, Julie made her way to the office. Rhys and Goronwy were on the phone, and Morgan Evans was standing by the board with its maps, photos and carefully scribed capital letters and arrows.
‘What’s new?’ he asked her.
Julie stood beside him. ‘I’ve only got a few minutes, but I’ll fill you in once we’ve interviewed James Pritchard. The boss has got him downstairs.’ She gazed at the board. Rhys had added a photograph of Lizzie. All that red hair she had, with the perfect pale skin and green eyes. She tapped Morgan on the arm. ‘Could you see if you can trace Lizzie Slaithwaite’s date and place of birth, mother’s name, whether the father’s named – all the usual.’
‘But why, Sarge, we know who she is.’
‘I’m not sure we do, Morgan. Julie smiled. ‘OK, it might be bonkers, but humour me. I think she’s lying about her age.
‘Whatever you say, oh weird one.’ Morgan smiled at her. That was a rare state of affairs. ‘And what’s Pritchard supposed to have done?’
‘We’re still flying on instruments, but I have a feeling things are about to become slightly clearer.’ Julie rummaged in her desk drawer and emerged triumphant, bearing a Twix. ‘Sustenance,’ she said, unwrapping it as she ran back out of the office.
James Pritchard wouldn’t look at them. When Swift asked him to identify himself for the tape, he spoke quietly, his gaze fixed firmly on the table.
‘You have been cautioned, so you know why you’re here, Mr Pritchard?’ Swift asked. Pritchard nodded. ‘For the tape, Mr Pritchard.’
‘Yes. I know why I’m here.’
‘We are investigating the death of Rosa Quigley, on or about the fifth of July in an area between the cottage, Pwll Bach,and the farm, Sŵn y Coed. What can you tell us about that?’
Pritchard shrugged. ‘I can’t help you.’
‘Are you saying you weren’t involved in that death?’ Julie asked.
‘The
death was nothing to do with me.’
Julie frowned. ‘Do you also deny that you were staying at Pwll Bach with your daughter, Lizzie Slaithwaite, and Sean Quigley, Rosa Quigley’s child?’
‘That’s not a crime, not as far as I know.’
‘And while you were staying there, did anyone come looking for you?’
‘For me? Who would come looking for me?’
‘Your wife perhaps? You left her not knowing where you were for months. She says you just disappeared, last December, without a word,’ Swift said.
Pritchard looked up. ‘I couldn’t tell anyone what I was doing. It would have been far too dangerous for the boy if anyone knew where we were.’
‘Did Lizzie tell you that?’ Julie asked.
Pritchard nodded and Julie pointed at the tape deck. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘Lizzie told me about the things that despicable excuse for a human being did to Rosa. I was terrified he would do the same to Lizzie.’
‘And why would he do that, Mr Pritchard?’ Swift asked.
Pritchard looked at Swift in disbelief. ‘Because she had taken his son away from him.’