Cruel Tide

by Ruth Sutton

  ‘Are they sure it’s a person down there?’ she asked.

  ‘More like a child actually. There was a hand sticking out. Very small fingers. That young detective asked me to have a look, even before they’d starting digging.’

  ’Do you know that bloke? Sergeant Clark at the cop shop told me he’s new and nobody likes him. Have you seen him before?

  ‘Don’t know him. He looks about twelve, or is that me getting old?’

  ‘I must be getting old too, then,’ said Judith. ‘Young and arrogant, that’s a great combination. He asked me why I wasn’t doing WI reports.’

  Dr Hayward winced. ‘Oh dear, not a great start for police-press relations.’

  ‘I get so tired of it,’ said Judith. ‘I’m twenty-eight years old, properly qualified and I’ve been in this business for nearly four years, but they still treat me like some kid straight from school. Is it because I’m female?’

  ‘Probably,’ he said. ‘No women in the police, at least not detectives, and the ones there are get all the menial things to do. My wife tells me things have to change, but I don’t see it, not here.’

  ‘Nor me, more’s the pity. Bet it’s different in London.’

  ‘That doesn’t help you much does it? We live here, in the outer darkness, and we just have to get on with it. At least we’re well away from rioting students and the Kray twins.’

  ‘True,’ said Judith. She got out her notebook. ‘OK, back to business. When will you do the post-mortem?’

  ‘Not today. Two on the slab already. Tell Bill Skelly the report’ll be available early next week. Not retired yet, has he?’

  ‘They’ll have to carry him out,’ said Judith, ‘especially now that George Falcon is off for a while.’

  ‘Oh yes, poor George. Well, if Bill stays a bit longer, that’ll improve your chances when he goes.’

  ‘Of taking over his job? Chief reporter Judith Pharaoh? That would make our young friend over there choke on his pencil.’

  They heard the sound of raised voices and peered round the side of the ambulance towards the shore. Two men were walking back across the boards, holding something between them.

  ‘Is that the body?’ said Judith. ‘It’s so small. Oh God, what a way to go. Poor little mite.’ She thought for a moment. ‘No report of a missing child locally, as far as I know. How could that happen?’

  ‘Some parents don’t seem to know or care,’ said Dr Hayward. ‘Things have gone to pot since the war: no discipline, no respect.’ He shook his head, watching the men carrying the stretcher between them.

  ‘He could be from Montgomery House,’ he said. ‘Do you know it? Used to be the sanatorium. Big house in its own grounds, a bit further down the coast road. It’s a children’s home now, has been since after the war. The boss, what’s his name now? I should know that, dammit. Simplest things to remember and they just disappear. Edwards, that’s it, Captain Edwards.’

  Judith looked down at the shore for a moment, watching the young detective.

  ‘I bet he doesn’t have a clue where to start,’ she said. ‘But I do. Thanks, doc. I could be identifying that body while he’s still writing in his little book.’

  He smiled at her, and she remembered why she’d always liked him. ‘Big day for me, doc,’ she said. ‘And it’s my birthday.’

  ‘Your birthday! Many happy returns. May I?’ He leaned across and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Pretty grim work for your birthday, but you’ll be celebrating later won’t you?’

  ‘I don’t make much of it,’ she said. ‘It’s not been a good day in the past. Put me off a bit.’

  ‘What happened?’

  Just for a moment, she thought about telling him, but the idea froze in her mind. She’d told no one, not even her parents, just announced that university was a mistake and she was leaving. Maggie assumed that this was Judith getting back at her, and John was sad. Not telling them was hard, but doing so would have been worse. The longer she left it, the more impossible it seemed. But Judith longed to tell someone, and Doc Hayward wouldn’t judge or blame, she was sure of that. She looked at his watery blue eyes, and began to form the words she needed, but then she noticed the young man striding up the hill. She locked the words away, turned and walked back up the hill, to start the fight for her job.

  CHAPTER 2

  It was only when she was standing on the doorstep of Montgomery House that Judith realised that she’d jumped the gun. There was no reason to think that this was the place to start trying to piece the story together. She’d seen that arrogant policeman coming towards them and been so keen to avoid him that she’d forgotten to ask about the witness who called the police. That would have made a good story in itself. Too late now. She’d have to go back and hope the policeman was still there.

  She was cursing herself for rushing at things yet again when the door opened. A large woman in a blue uniform with a white cap on her head looked down at her.

  ‘Yes?’ she said.

  Judith fumbled for her ID card. ‘Sorry to bother you,’ she said, holding out the card. ‘We have reason to believe that a child may have gone missing in the area and I wondered –‘

  ‘What makes you think a child could have gone missing from here? We take excellent care of our boys.’

  ‘Just boys, is it?’ Judith asked, grasping at straws.

  ‘I don’t think that’s any of your business, young lady,’ said the woman. ‘Now, I have work to do, and don’t have time to answer impertinent questions. Good day to you.’

  ‘And your name is?’ asked Judith, but the woman stepped back into the dark hallway and had half closed the heavy door when it swung open again. This time a tall man was standing there, looking down on Judith from an even greater height. A handsome man, with full grey hair, wearing a dark suit and a shirt so white that it glowed in the gloom.

  ‘I’m Captain Edwards, the director here. Did I hear something about a missing child?’

  Judith smiled her most placatory smile. ‘Judith Pharaoh, Furness News. I’m so sorry to disturb you, but we believe a local child has gone missing and I wondered…?’

  ‘Mrs Robinson is our matron here. I’m sure she would know if the child were one of ours, would she not?’ The man spoke with quiet authority and precision, making Judith feel even more gauche.

  ‘Well, yes, but…’

  ‘Thank you for your concern, Miss Pharaoh,’ he went on, inclining his head, ‘but I think your enquiries may be premature, don’t you? Good day.’

  The door closed with a determined click and Judith was left standing, staring at its polished surface. She turned away and down the steps, cursing herself yet again. ‘Idiot, idiot. Get your facts straight. One thing at a time, you know that.’

  The Vespa’s wheels crunched the gravel on the spacious driveway as she pushed the scooter away from the front door, not daring to start the engine until she was out of sight. At the end of the drive she stopped, uncertain where to go. There was no choice: she would have to go back and ask more questions, and he would think she was a complete fool.

  ❖ ❖ ❖

  Ten minutes after she had left the field where the vehicles were parked she was back, working out a story that would explain her early return without too much embarrassment. The ambulance was still there, and the men were down by the shore, looking for clues, she surmised. With any luck they wouldn’t see her yet and she could make a better excuse for her return. She didn’t have to worry about Doc Hayward, who had caught sight of her and stood, his head on one side, wondering.

  ‘Back so soon?’ he called.

  ‘That’s me all over, I’m afraid. I rushed off to avoid our tiresome friend before I’d asked him everything I needed to know. Names, dates and details, they drum it in to you at journalists’ college and then I get out here and forget the basics. I need to know who first saw the body and called it in. Do you know?’

  ‘I think they said it was a woman walking her dog, early on, but I don’t have a name.’


  ‘Damn,’ said Judith. ‘That means I’ll have to ask his lordship and give him a chance to sneer at me again. Is he still down there?’

  Dr Hayward squinted into the glare of light from the sands. ‘They’re all there. They brought the body up here, and went back down to look for anything else they could find before the tide comes back in.’

  ‘It’s in the ambulance?’ said Judith, peering into the gloom. A small bundle covered in sheets lay on a stretcher inside. ‘How old?’

  ‘A boy, about ten I would guess, but I haven’t had a proper look. I need to get him back to the mortuary and wash all the mud off before I can tell you much more than that.’

  ‘Ten. That’s dreadful,’ said Judith, remembering her brothers at that age, their innocence and naivety.

  ‘Did you go to Montgomery House? You came back pretty quickly.’

  ‘Wasted journey, I’m afraid. They weren’t about to tell me that one of theirs was missing. I met a woman who looked like the matron and the man in charge, the one you mentioned. She was pretty frosty but he was polite. Very well spoken, isn’t he? Not from round here.’

  ‘He’s a gentleman, is Captain Edwards. A war hero. Did you notice the limp?’

  ‘No. What happened to him?

  ‘He was in Malaya, during the war there, in the fifties. Damaged his knee somehow. Invalided out and ended up running a kids’ home. People think he’s just the type they need.’

  Judith caught his tone. ‘Do you think that?’

  He shrugged. ‘Kids like that need to learn respect. What did Edwards say to you?’

  ‘Just that they didn’t know if a child was missing. Basically told me to push off, and I don’t blame him really. It was far too soon to start asking questions. I’m under the gun at work, did I tell you? The editor called me in and said unless I could prove myself I would be out of a job. They’re upset about George not being around, but I don’t see why that would involve sacking me.’

  ‘They think people work harder if they’re threatened. Rubbish of course. People under pressure make mistakes.’

  ‘Like me,’ she said. ‘And now I have to crawl back to young Sherlock and start again. Wish me luck.’

  ❖ ❖ ❖

  She was almost within touching distance of Tognarelli before he realised she was there. He blushed as he turned towards her.

  ‘Miss Pharaoh,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d taken your enquiries elsewhere.’

  ‘I did, but I have a few more questions.’

  ‘What now?’

  ‘It’s about the witness who alerted the police. And are there any reports of a missing child?’

  ‘No one has reported a missing child, as far as I’m aware,’ he said. ‘But you will need to check with the station in Barrow about that. Men can land on the moon but our radios don’t work out here, so I’ve no way of knowing. And the other matter…’

  He took off one of his muddy gloves and looked in an inside pocket for his notebook, turning the pages awkwardly with his fingers to find the right page.

  ‘Can I help?’ she asked.

  He ignored the offer. Eventually he found the page he wanted, and craned his head to see what was written there. ‘Mrs Bracegirdle, 8 Church Road, Barfield. She called 999 at 7.19 this morning. I’m not sure she’ll want to talk to you, but does that answer your question?‘

  ‘It does, thanks,’ said Judith, surprised at the cooperative response when she’d expected a lecture.

  ‘Always pleased to assist the press,’ he said, with the faintest smile, or was it that sneer again? No matter, she had what she wanted, and the morning was still young. She wanted to give Mr Editor Thornhill lots of factual stuff today, to show how capable she was. He wouldn’t know how careless she’d been along the way, and she certainly wouldn’t tell him.

  ❖ ❖ ❖

  Less than twenty minutes later Judith was knocking on a door again, a smaller one this time, at the end of a short, neatly paved path. The door remained closed but a voice came from within. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘It’s Judith Pharaoh, Mrs Bracegirdle,’ Judith replied, and the door was opened immediately. Mrs Bracegirdle smiled. ‘Thank goodness,’ she said. ‘I thought it might be some dreadful newspaperman. Are you from the Council? Come in, do. That’s pretty quick, I must say, I only wrote in last week about the bins and thought it would be weeks before anyone got back to me.’

  ‘The bins?’ said Judith.

  ‘The dustbins and the foxes, or seagulls or whatever it is making all the mess. Did you get my letter?’ She had led the way into the small front room and gestured for Judith to sit down.

  ‘No, but, I think you may have… I’m not from the Council.’

  ‘Well who are you then, dear?’ asked her hostess, still smiling. Judith fished in her bag for the ID card and proffered it.

  ‘I’m one of those dreadful newspaper people,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t say so earlier.’

  ‘You don’t look like one of them.’

  ‘No, well, that’s fortunate, isn’t it? The ones I know look pretty awful.’ Judith smiled hopefully, and to her surprise Mrs Bracegirdle smiled too.

  ‘Well, Miss Pharaoh,’ she said. ‘Now you’re here, I suppose it’s about what happened this morning.’

  ‘Can you tell me anything about it? It was very clever of you to realise that something wasn’t right.’ The flattery was blatant, but Mrs Bracegirdle seemed to appreciate it and settled back in her chair. ‘Well, it was Meg who spotted it actually. My dog. I had her on a long lead, she’s only a puppy and I worry about her running into one of those quicksands. She bolted right to the end of the lead and started barking and carrying on. It was all I could do to pull her back. I looked to see what she was barking at and then I saw what looked like twigs sticking out of the mud. Oh dear…’ She took a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her eyes. ‘When I think now, it’s very upsetting.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ said Judith.

  ‘I tied Meg to a tree to stop her pulling and then I walked a bit further out, on the bank where the samphire grows. The sun was in my eyes but I looked as hard as I could and I realised they were fingers. Little fingers. Oh dear.’ She wiped her eyes again. ‘I couldn’t believe it. So close to the shore. It must be deep enough to swallow a child, and leave just the hand sticking up.’ She blew her nose. Her eyes were full of tears.

  Judith felt her own eyes pricking as her mind worked on what could have happened. ‘What could a child have been doing out there?’ she wondered aloud. ‘All on his own.’

  Mrs Bracegirdle looked up. ‘A boy?’

  Judith nodded. ‘They dug him out. Very young. The doctor isn’t sure how old.’

  ‘The poor mite. I have a grandson, he’s just eight, such a bright little thing.’

  ‘I have two brothers,’ said Judith. ‘I remember them at that age.’

  ‘That plain-clothes policeman was a real gent,’ said Mrs Bracegirdle. ‘He had a funny name, Italian.’

  ‘Tognarelli,’ said Judith.

  ‘That’s it. I was very upset, and he was patient, you know, very polite. Not from round here.’

  ‘Further south?’ said Judith.

  ‘Aye, that it was. You know him, do you?’

  ‘I met him,’ said Judith.

  Mrs Bracegirdle was quiet for a moment before she asked, ‘Has anyone reported a missing boy?’

  ‘I asked the policeman but he didn’t know.’

  ‘Maybe the tide caught him. It sweeps in so fast here. You could be out on the sands and get cut off, and if there’s a quicksand…’

  ‘My friend lost his dog in a quicksand,’ said Judith. ‘He’s still upset about it.’ She looked at the woman, weeping for a nameless child. ‘Can I get you anything? A cup of tea?’

  ‘You stay there, love,’ said Mrs Bracegirdle, rising from her chair. ‘I’ll do it.’

  ❖ ❖ ❖

  ‘You look a bit better, lass’ said Sergeant Clark, when Judith got back to the police stati
on to check about a missing child. ‘Just had Montgomery House on the phone, the kids’ place near where that body was found. Looks like it’s one of theirs.’

  Judith was indignant. ‘But I went there myself and they knew nothing about it.’

  ‘Well, they do now. Apparently they did their own search before they called it in. It’s a big place, and all the grounds, too. Anyway, that were about twenty minutes ago.’

  ‘Has DC Tognarelli been told?’

  ‘Not called in yet, so probably not. Sergeant Morrison’s gone down there and Doc Hayward’s taking the body to the mortuary.’

  Judith didn’t mention to Sergeant Clark that she was going to head straight back to Montgomery House. She’d already decided that ‘ask questions first, apologise later’, was the best motto for the time being if she wanted to get her story without one of the other papers getting there first.

  This time she had the words prepared for her conversation with Captain Edwards, who answered the door himself.

  ‘Miss Pharaoh?’

  Behind him in the hall Judith could see a man standing, tall and heavy, like a rugby player gone to seed. She couldn’t see his face clearly but the shape looked familiar. One button of his coat was fastened, pulling across his stomach. He didn’t speak to Judith, and pushed the door to obscure her view. She heard the two men talking in whispers before the door opened again. Captain Edwards cleared his throat. ‘You can come in, but whatever it is will have to be quick,’ he said. He was still outwardly calm but his eyes were nervous, and his fingers fidgeting.

  ‘Of course,’ said Judith. ‘I understand how distressing this must be for you all, and I’d like to help by getting something into the news tonight. No names, you understand, just appealing for information. I’ve talked to the lady who called the police first thing this morning and there could have been other people out there around the same time who might have information.’