The Dead Of Winter

by Billy McLaughlin

“That’s good, Greg,” said Irving softly. “We can talk about that soon. Right now, we need to talk about Archie. How did you get in to the Wilson’s house?”

  Greg started to fidget and rocked back in his chair. “I didn’t go into their house. The baby’s mother brought him to me. I got home and she had left him.” He didn’t understand too much about what was happening, but he knew when he was being asked the wrong question.

  “And you saw her do this?” It was Irving who spoke again. He saw Wallace turn and look at him with disdain. He knew that his superior would not want him to go down this road, but there was something so genuine about Greg’s protests that he felt he needed to hear them.

  “Yes. I said that.” Greg was becoming irritable. “I chased her away. I didn’t mean to. She looked frightened. I just wanted to tell her it was okay and that she didn’t have to run away. She fell into the river and drowned. When I got home, I found the baby.” He looked sad when he spoke about her drowning, almost as if he were reliving it in his mind’s eye.

  Wallace interjected. “This is all very sad, but there’s only one problem Greg. Joanne Wilson isn’t dead. She’s very much alive and is now waiting on news of her son at the hospital. So, your story doesn’t make any sense. I need you to start telling the truth.”

  Greg banged on the table. “I am telling the truth. I don’t know what Joanne has to do with it. She’s a horrible woman. I’m talking about the baby’s mother.” He slowed his speech down as if he were trying to tell somebody something complicated.

  “Archie is Joanne’s baby.” Wallace was becoming frustrated because he didn’t know if Greg even understood half of what he was saying. Hadn’t he twigged when they had asked him about entering the Wilson’s house?

  Irving placed his mobile phone on the table and searched through various apps. Then he typed in a name and waited for the profile to load. “This is Joanne Wilson. Do you recognise her?”

  Greg barely glanced at the photo. He knew who Joanne was. “She’s nasty. She made me sad when my mother died. She said horrible things and told me to stay out of her garden.”

  “Is that why you took Archie?” Wallace again, this time louder.

  The shudder from the table when Greg slammed his fists down again almost caused the room to shake. “I never took Archie,” he bellowed as his face contorted with rage.

  There it was, thought Wallace; the other side of Greg Burns. The side that Ida Webster and Irving had not wanted to acknowledge. He suspected that Greg was capable of terrible things. That’s why Joanne was so frightened of him. She hadn’t told him what he wanted to hear and he must have turned on her.

  Whilst his anger was unleashing, Wallace was so busy feigning shock that he never noticed Irving search for another photo.

  “Have you seen this girl before?”

  Greg was still panting from his outburst when he looked closer at the photograph. “Yes, that’s her. That’s Archie’s mother. She died.”

  Irving felt his heart sink. “Let the records show that I’m now showing Greg a photo of Samantha Bradley. Greg, did you know that she lives in your old house?”

  Greg hadn’t known that. He had been to the house and he’d seen a small girl at the window, but he hadn’t seen anybody else. “No. The first time I saw her was at my cottage. She came with the baby.”

  Wallace had been mystified by Greg’s story but he was beginning to understand what it was that Greg was trying to tell them. “So you want us to believe that you didn’t snatch Archie? That Samantha took him and by sheer coincidence, brought him to your cottage where she left him and ran away?” When he said it out loud, he realised how implausible it sounded. Some of the most ridiculous stories Wallace had heard transpired to be true. It was what made his job so interesting.

  “Yes. That’s what happened. Then when I got home, she must have got a fright. That’s when she fell into the river. You know my dad said nobody could survive that river. There’s rocks all the way along towards the Clyde so if she didn’t drown, her bones will be broken.” Greg recited his father’s wisdom verbatim and then looked impressed that he’d remembered what his old man had said.

  “So now you’re saying that Samantha Bradley is dead? Did you kill her Greg?” Wallace knew if he needled the man just enough, he might actually be able to coax a confession out of him.

  “No, she fell into the river. I got there and she fell in. Her coat was bright. That’s how I saw her.” He was trying to remain calm but Detective Wallace was making it very difficult. He was speaking to him as if he didn’t have any understanding. What had really happened was starting to sink in.

  “I know what you think. That maybe I took the baby because she was horrible to me. I didn’t even know she had a baby. I didn’t know the girl that lives in my house either. They came to me. I didn’t go to them. I thought she must be in some trouble. When she drowned, I promised her I’d take care of her baby. My mother said I should never break my promises.”

  Irving stood to terminate the interview. “Okay, Greg. We’ll look into what you’ve told us. For now, you’ll need to stay here in the station. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Greg had been here before. He hadn’t minded the cells. They had been quiet which is what he preferred. “I had a banana shake the last time. Can I have it again?”

  Irving looked at Maggie who looked as concerned as he felt. He wondered if Greg had any real concept of the trouble he was in. Even if he believed what Greg had said, there would be no way to prove it. Greg had said that the one person who could corroborate his story was dead. “No problem. I’ll go and get you a banana shake.” He smiled at Greg and tried not to acknowledge the condescending smile on Wallace’s face. He was more interested in the fact that they would have to drag the Clyde in this ferocious cold winter and that he would most likely have to deliver the terrible news to Mary.

  THIRTY-ONE

  The social worker hadn’t been the hideous monster that Joanne had expected. In fact, she was quite lovely. She smiled at them both as they entered the room and sat down across from her. They were also joined by the nurse who had been caring for Archie.

  “My name’s Abigail. It’s nice to meet you, despite the circumstances. How’s Archie?” She seemed genuinely concerned about the baby and that softened Joanne right away. “You’ve really been through quite an ordeal. I’m sure you’re as keen as we are to resolve all of this.”

  “Okay,” said Joanne, momentarily bowled over so that she forgot the rant that she had prepared on her way down the corridor.

  “I need to start by asking if you know Greg Burns?” Abigail sat with a notepad on her crisp grey skirt and prepared to scribble anything the Wilson’s had to contribute.

  “Yes, I know him. I just want you to know he is not somebody who I would ever socialise with. He was not welcome in my house. He gave me the creeps when he lived next door.”

  Dan peered round his wife so that he could make eye contact with the social worker.

  “But you do know him?” Abigail shifted her knees round so that they were almost touching Joanne’s knees.

  “Yes.”

  “Can you think of any reason that he would have done this? Did you have some sort of run in with him?”

  “I have no idea. We barely even know him. We moved to the house shortly after his mother died. I asked him to stop staring in my window as his kitchen looked straight into ours. Surely you don’t go around stealing somebody’s baby because they asked you not to stare at them.” Joanne was overwhelmed and bewildered. It almost made sense when she thought Samantha might have done it. Girls thought babies were little dolls. Greg Burns? She repeated the name on loop until she found herself saying it out loud.

  Abigail put her notepad and her pen down on the table and braced herself. She had delivered life changing news to many families and it never got easier no matter how many times she did it or how delicately she delivered it. “So there was no relationship with him?”

  Joanne
looked at Dan and saw that he was as confused as she was.

  “We didn’t have a relationship with him. He was the strange kid next door. Besides, he’d moved away before we knew we were pregnant. How would he even know about our baby?” Dan felt as if he had been forced onto a rollercoaster that he couldn’t get off. He stared at Abigail and then at the nurse before looking back at his wife who was struggling to comprehend what was being said.

  “It’s what my husband said. We barely knew him. We knew there were lots of problems in the house. His step-father killed his mother and tried to put the blame on him. Then shortly after we had words with him, he moved away. The house lay empty for quite a while before Mary and the girls moved in.” The sudden realisation hit Joanne and she wondered if it were mere coincidence that he had lived in that house and now Samantha Bradley had also gone missing. The panic hit her like a freight train. “You need to ask him about Samantha.”

  Abigail reached for her pen. “You really don’t have to worry about that. If the police suspect there’s any connection with her disappearance and I’m sure they do, they will get to the bottom of it. Can I ask though, did you ever see him hanging around the neighbourhood after he’d left? Or see him at the Bradley house?”

  “No, I’ll be honest. I can’t even remember what he looks like. I didn’t give him a second thought after he left.” Joanne shivered at the mere thought of him watching her house and biding his time before he could walk in and take her child. It was the ‘why?’ that she didn’t get though. What possible reason or connection did he have? She recalled that some other neighbours would tell her about his learning disability and pour pity onto him. They had bent over backwards to help him because his mother was so negligent. Joanne had shown no interest in joining the foundation of Greg Burns. Was that possibly the reason? She hadn’t shown him enough interest? She was being punished for not being charitable enough? She felt sick to her gut.

  “Okay, Joanne. We need to sort out what happens with Archie next.”

  Joanne caught her breath in her throat and felt the veins in her neck tighten. “Happens with Archie? I don’t know what you mean.” She faced the nurse who sat at the end of the sofa. “You said he was coming on. That we could take him home soon.”

  “Mrs Wilson. I didn’t say you could take him home soon. He is doing fine. We are hoping to release him tomorrow.”

  Joanne smiled and it was only when she looked at Dan that she suspected that she was missing something. She turned back to Abigail. “What aren’t you saying?”

  “In cases like this we do need to do what’s right for the child. That is our primary concern.” Abigail was nodding her head as she spoke as if she were cajoling Joanne to her way of thinking. “We’ll need to carry out some assessments and submit a report once we’ve established that it’s in Archie’s interest to return home to you. In the meantime, we do have to place him in foster care.”

  Joanne heard the words and wanted to scream. “No, no, no. I’m a good mother. He’s my baby. You can’t give him to somebody else.” Tears fell until it looked as if a monsoon would drip from her face. “I’m a good mother.” Her voice quietened as she said it but her eyes pleaded in desperation.

  “Nobody’s saying you’re not. I can see you love him very much. That you’re both good parents is not up for debate.” Abigail spoke precisely, curling her tongue around the words. “But we have to follow procedure. Now, it might only take a day or two. I’m not making any promises, but we must establish that coming home is the right thing for your baby. An experience like this is often more traumatising for the family than it is for the baby. Archie won’t remember this. You will. So we want to make sure that you’re both okay. This is not a punishment, it’s a support system. Okay?”

  Dan put his arm around Joanne’s shoulder so he could calm her and comfort her all in the same breath. She didn’t pull away which meant she had listened to what Abigail had said.

  Joanne sniffed and wiped away the last of her tears. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do. Just bring my baby home to me.” Deep inside herself she had finally processed the information that Greg Burns had taken her baby. Why? She couldn’t possibly think of a motive. It didn’t make any sense. What did make sense to her though was that she would kill him with her bare hands if she were ever left in a room with him.

  Abigail stood and smiled reassuringly. “I’ll be in touch. Now why don’t you go and spend a few minutes with Archie before we arrange a home visit.” She grabbed her bag and left the room, leaving Dan and Joanne to return to Archie.

  The nurse led them back to the paediatric ward where they could be temporarily re-united with him.

  THIRTY-TWO

  Dan had left Joanne at the hospital because she had insisted that he go home and make the house spotless for the arrival of social services. She would stay with Archie. She had no intention of leaving her son for any more time than was necessary. Dan knew not to push her because she already appeared to be on the edge. He simply kissed her and raced home. Who knew when social services would arrive, but he wouldn’t take any chances.

  Darkness had begun to fall upon the residents of Golf Road. Snow had fallen for the best part of the afternoon but had finally let up to give them a little reprieve. Dan let out a sigh of relief when he pulled into the street and found that nobody else had parked at the front of his house. He locked his car and made his way up the path. There wasn’t a light nor another person present which meant that Dan could get on with the task at hand. What exactly would his wife expect of him, he wondered, as he dumped his car keys on the hall cabinet?

  Dan looked at his mobile phone and saw he had ten missed calls. He scrolled through the list as he walked slowly into the lounge. Some of the numbers he didn’t even recognise but the one that appeared five times was Paul and Laura’s home number. Had anybody told them that Archie had been found, he wondered? He had spoken briefly to Bob Miller at the hospital. Bob had seemed keen to speak to him but he had explained that his boy had been found and he didn’t have time to speak to anybody.

  A draught spread through the house and Dan realised it was coming from the kitchen. Somebody hadn’t closed the window properly. He would have to do something about the security in the house. Somebody had managed to gain access to his house to take his son, he couldn’t risk that happening again. He walked into the kitchen and saw flickers of snow blow through the side door. It was slightly ajar and the cold wind blew straight into his face.

  Dan slammed the door and twisted the key. The turn of the lock sounded much louder without the sound of his baby crying or his wife shouting. The complete silence was unexpected and slightly eerie. He felt the hairs on his arm tingle. Then, the silence revealed something else. Somebody else was there. He heard the deep breaths of another person and they couldn’t have been more than ten inches from him. Dan saw a fist fly towards his face.

  “What the fuck?” He fell against the dining table and saw Paul Gilfeather step out of the shadows. In the light that pervaded the kitchen window he saw something shimmer in Paul’s hand.

  Paul raised his arm so that the object hovered over Dan’s head. He could now see that it was the claw end of a steel hammer.

  “See this Dan? This is what you’ll get between your fucking eyes if you ever touch my daughter again.” There was no mistaking the unbridled rage in Paul’s voice. He sounded almost psychopathic.

  “Touch?” Dan was stuttering just as he tasted the blood that fell from his lip into his mouth.

  “Yeah. Touch or talk or do anything that I don’t think is appropriate. You’ll not need to worry about the police. You’ll only have to worry that Joanne and that little boy of yours won’t ever see your ugly mug again.” Paul pulled Dan to his feet so that he wouldn’t mistake the message. The intent burned in his eyes.

  “Paul, I didn’t touch Shannon. You’ve got it wrong.”

  Paul spluttered at him in disgust before turning his back on him. He was already going through the lo
unge and into the hall when Dan shouted again.

  “Your daughter’s a liar. I didn’t lay a finger on her.” He heard the front door slam and suddenly began to panic. How could his day have gotten any worse? His son had been snatched from his cot. The police had looked at him as if he were top of their wanted list. His wife was barely speaking to him. To end the list of things that could only get worse, he had now inadvertently made an enemy of psycho-neighbour number one.

  Dan wiped the blood from his face and stared down at his fist. Then he slammed it straight into the nearest wall. He was still shaking the pain away from his hand when he heard his mobile phone ring. He wondered if today would ever end?

  “Are you alone?”

  Dan recognised the voice instantly. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. So, he lied and said he wasn’t alone. A few seconds earlier and it would have been true.

  “Well don’t say a word then. Just let me speak.”

  Dan stayed perfectly still as he listened to the words of the familiar voice. He couldn’t move even if he had wanted to because he was left reeling with what they had to say. His forehead began to sweat. He knew he should have asked questions. Instead he found himself agreeing to everything he was told. If he wanted to know the truth and he did, he would have to drive to the cemetery. Five minutes later Dan switched on his ignition and made the short drive to his destination.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Casey walked under the orange streetlights and wiped away the flakes from her nose. She gripped the phone in her hand as if it were her most ardent protector. Across the street, she could see Ida Webster wrestle her bin to the front of her driveway. They exchanged a gentle wave and then Casey continued to walk.

  It wasn’t far to the cemetery, but it wasn’t a walk that she cared to do when it was cold and dark. She had no other choice though. Casey hadn’t been brought up to shirk away from her responsibilities and this was no different. Rosie and Bob would want to protect her, as would Carla, but how could she ever shake off the shackles of Shannon if she didn’t take a stand and face her own demons.