Child's Play

by Alison Taylor

  Putting up her hands, Daisy flicked at the still-damp curls tumbling about her face. There was a fine sheen of perspiration on her brow.

  ‘Does Torrance bully you?’

  ‘Do you like her?’

  Suddenly reddening, Daisy squirmed. Realising she had probably lumbered on to the tender ground of adolescent love, Janet involuntarily reached across the gap between them to pat Daisy’s hand.

  She recoiled violently. ‘Don’t touch me!’ She sounded both horrified and terrified.

  ‘I’m sorry!’

  ‘That’s what Torrance did.’ Daisy’s eyes were no longer empty. Janet was appalled by the misery there. ‘She’d pat your hand, or stroke your hair. That’s how she started it.’

  ‘Started what?’

  ‘I saw her in the stables.’

  ‘Saw whom?’

  ‘Torrance.’ Her tension was almost palpable.

  Carefully, Janet said, ‘I’m a bit lost. What are you trying to tell me?’

  Some unfathomable expression crossed Daisy’s face. Letting each word hang ominously before she spoke the next, she said, ‘I was coming up from the pool. I heard someone crying in the stables. I went in.’ Once again, her voice droned. ‘She was there with Sukie. She was raping her.’

  ‘Are you sure that’s what you saw?’

  ‘Yes! Anyway, Sukie was so upset she came straight to tell me. She was going to report Torrance.’

  ‘She told you?’ Janet could not hide her astonishment.

  Daisy stamped her foot on the floor. ‘She told me! I was her friend; her secret friend. She called me “little sister”.’

  Janet frowned. ‘Isn’t it Torrance who calls the Tudor girls “little sister”?’

  ‘It was Sukie’s special name for me!’ The words emerged with a horrible sibilance.

  ‘No one’s said anything to us about you and her.’

  ‘I’ve told you!’ Daisy snarled. ‘It was a secret!’

  ‘Why? Why did it have to be that way?’

  The question threw Daisy into confusion. She gaped at Janet, face contorted.

  ‘Why did your friendship with Sukie have to be kept secret?’ persisted Janet.

  Then, as the answer presented itself, Daisy relaxed. ‘Because of Torrance, of course. She’d have gone absolutely mad with jealousy. She wanted Sukie all to herself.’

  ‘Sukie told you all this, did she?’

  ‘You don’t believe me, do you?’ Daisy demanded. ‘You think I’m making it up. Well, I’m not, so there! Sukie was going to tell on Torrance, so Torrance killed her to shut her up. And I’m not the only one who knows.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘Alice does, too.’ Again she licked her lips. ‘Just you ask her.’

  As Janet escorted Daisy across to the mobile incident room, the echo of her childish, lisping voice, luxuriating in the tale of sordid violence, whispered in her head. She pushed the girl into a chair, told Nona to make sure she stayed there and knocked on the door of the little office.

  McKenna looked up. ‘I was wondering where you’d got to,’ he said. ‘Dewi called. Torrance thinks she saw someone in the grounds on the night Sukie died. More pertinently, whoever it was must have seen her; hence the sabotaged saddle, no doubt. There’s no way of knowing if any of the sixth form were out, but did anyone report absentees from the dormitories?’

  ‘I’m not sure, sir,’ she replied a little impatiently. ‘And it might not matter, anyway. Daisy’s come up with what sounds like a cast-iron motive. You need to speak to her.’

  Reluctantly, clearly embarrassed by McKenna’s presence, Daisy repeated her story and, because it was without embellishment, Janet found the second telling more persuasive than the first.

  ‘You say Alice knows,’ McKenna commented. ‘But how?’

  ‘I told her,’ Daisy said.

  ‘When?’

  ‘Thursday night.’

  ‘Why then? Why not before?’

  ‘Because Torrance asked her to help with evening stables on Thursday. I wanted to warn Alice in case Torrance tried anything next time they were alone.’

  ‘How did Alice react?’

  ‘She went absolutely crazy.’ She looked at Janet.

  ‘That’s why we were fighting earlier.’

  ‘Did she go crazy because she didn’t believe you?’ McKenna asked.

  ‘No,’ Daisy replied witheringly. ‘Because she didn’t want to believe me!’

  ‘Do you think Sukie had told anyone apart from you?’

  ‘No. There was no one for her to tell.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘She didn’t have any friends after she stopped talking to Imogen.’

  ‘She might not have had any close friends,’ Janet intervened, ‘but she was still popular with the sixth-form.’

  Daisy’s eyes snapped. ‘Who told you that garbage? They hated her. They treated her like shit!’

  ‘Did they?’

  ‘When she wasn’t being cut like she didn’t exist, she got thumped and spat on, her clothes got nicked and her room was messed up nearly every day.’ Daisy paused, her mouth working. ‘They even threatened to slash Purdey.’

  ‘Who did?’

  Daisy glanced at him, then her eyes slid away. ‘Nancy?’ he suggested. ‘Charlotte?’

  Stiffly, she nodded.

  ‘Anyone else?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  McKenna watched her, but she refused to meet his eyes. ‘I think you do know, Daisy, but we’ll leave it for the time being. Now, did you tell anyone, other than Alice, about what you say you saw in the stables?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Could anyone have overheard?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Where were you?’

  ‘In the bogs.’

  ‘What time was it?’

  ‘Nearly dawn.’

  ‘Is it likely that Alice has confided in anyone?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ Suddenly she gulped, put her hands over her face and began to sob noisily. Tears came trickling through her fingers and down the back of her hands.

  He waited, regarding her thoughtfully. When the weeping abated to snivelling, he said, ‘For the time being, we’ve got to keep you apart from the rest of the school. We’ll put you in one of the empty staff flats, but you won’t be alone,’ he added hurriedly, as she dropped her hands to expose a face blotched with terror. ‘There’ll be someone with you constantly.’

  Janet took Daisy to the dormitory to pack an overnight bag while McKenna went in search of the newly promoted deputy headmistress. He scoured the building from top to bottom, but found only a few junior teachers, randomly attached to various groups of girls. Miss Knight, he was told, had called the senior staff to a crisis meeting at her house. When he asked who held the keys to the vacant staff flats, no one appeared to know, so, using those Jack had taken from Nicholls, he breached Freya’s erstwhile redoubt.

  There was still a faint whiff of her perfume about the room. As he rifled the key safe screwed to the wall, he half expected to feel her hand on his shoulder and, when he looked at the empty chair behind the magnificent desk, he could have sworn he saw her shade. Removing a pair of keys labelled VACANT STAFF FLAT 1, he realised that he wished she were there in person, so that he could thrust in her face the terrible harm she had done.

  16

  Halfway up the path from the stables Martha said exasperatedly, ‘You still haven’t given me a decent explanation. What’s the matter? Has the cat got your tongue?’ She grabbed Alice’s shoulder. ‘For the last time, why were you and Daisy fighting?’

  Alice shrugged her off and, staring mutely and determinedly at the small patch of ground in front of her feet, plodded on towards the school.

  Martha walked behind her on to the forecourt, sorely tempted at every step to help Alice along with a few kicks. Then she saw Daisy and Janet Evans, going in the direction of the staff accommodation block. A bulging leather backpack hung from Daisy’s shoulder.


  Expecting comment on this, if on nothing else, Martha glanced at her daughter, but Alice seemed not to have noticed them. She walked straight in through the double doors and all but cannoned into McKenna, who was standing in the dim lobby. Nona was at his side.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ he said. ‘We need to talk.’ He led them into the visitors’ room and something about his manner alerted Martha long before they were seated. When Nona closed the door and leaned against it, barring escape, she began to worry. ‘What is it?’ she demanded. ‘What’s happened?’ When he remained silent, she asked, ‘And where’s Daisy gone? I saw Janet Evans taking her somewhere.’

  ‘Daisy’s been moved to one of the staff flats,’ he replied.

  ‘Please, don’t prolong the agony.’ Martha put her hand to her forehead. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘She’s told him about Torrance.’ Alice’s hands were clenched into tight, white-knuckled fists.

  Martha frowned at her. ‘Told him what?’

  ‘She said she saw Torrance raping Sukie.’

  Martha’s mouth fell open.

  ‘She’s lying,’ Alice added.

  ‘It’s a devastating allegation,’ McKenna said. ‘She also claims that Sukie intended to report the rape.’

  Alice met his eyes defiantly. ‘And she also said Torrance killed Sukie to keep her quiet. She’s lying about that as well.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I just do!’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us about Daisy’s allegations?’ he asked. ‘You’ve had plenty of opportunites.’

  ‘Because I don’t believe her.’

  ‘What you believe is immaterial. You deliberately suppressed absolutely crucial information.’

  ‘Only if it was true,’ Alice retorted. ‘And it isn’t!’

  Finding her voice, Martha said, ‘You can’t possibly know whether it is or not. You had no right to keep it to yourself.’ She looked searchingly at her daughter and saw yet another stranger. ‘Were you trying to protect Torrance?’ she asked. When Alice nodded warily, Martha responded savagely, ‘Well, you went a funny way about it! If you’d reported what Daisy told you, Torrance probably wouldn’t have had an accident. Don’t you realise that? Suppose she’d been killed? It’s pure luck she wasn’t.’

  McKenna intervened. ‘We can’t be certain of a connection,’ he said. He turned his attention to Alice. ‘You like Torrance, don’t you?’ he asked softly.

  ‘So?’

  ‘Is that because she lets you help with the horses, or is there another reason?’

  ‘Like what?’

  Almost imperceptibly he shrugged. ‘Perhaps she’s made inappropriate overtures to you as well.’

  Alice clamped her lips together, breathing noisily through her nose, her chest rising and falling sharply. Her skin was grey, and here and there dark bruises were beginning to show themselves.

  ‘She’s going to have an attack.’ Martha struggled to her feet. ‘Where’s that blasted inhaler?’

  Gazing fixedly at McKenna, Alice shook off her mother’s ministrations. ‘I don’t need it,’ she said, a gasp between each word.

  ‘Then when you feel ready,’ McKenna told her, ‘perhaps you’ll answer my question.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Martha snapped, standing protectively behind Alice’s chair. ‘Can’t you see she’s almost beside herself?’

  ‘All the more reason to get to the truth,’ he said shortly. ‘If only for Alice’s sake.’

  ‘All Torrance has ever done,’ Alice began, ‘is be nice to me.’ The breath whistled in her chest. ‘Oh, and she occasionally ruffles my hair.’ She challenged McKenna once more. ‘I’ll bet Daisy never told you what she did to Sukie, did she?’

  ‘No. What was it?’

  ‘She stuffed some broken twigs under the saddle.’ With another pause for breath, she added, ‘Sukie was thrown as soon as she put her weight on Purdey’s back. Daisy laughed herself sick.’

  ‘Why did she do it?’

  ‘It was her idea of a joke.’

  It was attempted murder, and only a psychopath would find amusement in that, Martha thought despairingly. ‘She must have tampered with the girth,’ she told McKenna. ‘She must have done.’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ he replied.

  Voicing the thoughts now besieging her own mind, she went on as if he had not spoken, ‘And God knows why, but she probably killed Sukie.’

  ‘Don’t overreact,’ he chided. ‘I’m not defending Daisy’s actions, but pranks like that aren’t uncommon. A warped sense of humour doesn’t make someone a killer.’

  Alice groped in her jeans pocket for the inhaler. She snapped off the cap, rammed the end into her mouth, drew in a draught of medication, then glanced up at Martha. ‘I wish you’d sit down,’ she said curtly, before turning away. ‘You’re crowding me.’

  Looking down on her daughter’s small, dark head, Martha was tempted to slap her, while at the same time wanting to weep. Her child was all but lost to her, befouled in the murk of Freya Scott’s netherworld. She leaned over to pick up her bag, a sob welling in her throat. Barely able to trust her voice, she said to McKenna, ‘Let me know when you’ve finished.’ Then, pushing blindly past Nona, she made her escape.

  Once outside the visitors’ room, Martha sank into the nearest chair. Her whole body ached cruelly, especially her legs, confined as they were in trousers that were still wet from when she had crawled through the grass after Daisy.

  McKenna followed within moments. Standing over her, his mood indecipherable, he said, ‘I can’t continue to question Alice if you’re not there.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Are you coming back in?’

  ‘No, I’m not.’ Painfully, she straightened her back and meeting his gaze, added, ‘I’m banking on your compassion, Mr McKenna. You know as well as I do that she’s not up to it.’ Then she offered him a bleak, lopsided smile. ‘You don’t look too good yourself,’ she remarked. ‘About ready for the knacker’s yard, I’d say.’

  He perched on the edge of the chair next to hers, staring at his clasped hands. ‘Not only am I beginning to feel as if we’ve been here for ever, but we seem to be going backwards rather than forwards.’

  ‘But that’s not as bad as feeling you’ve been dragged down to Freya Scott’s destructive level, is it? Because you have been and the more you pursue Daisy’s story the deeper you’ll sink.’

  ‘Come on, Mrs Rathbone,’ he chided. ‘You know I’ve got no choice.’

  ‘But you’ve got a choice about the way you do it. And when.’ Massaging her thighs, rocking gently in her seat, she went on, ‘God forbid you might think I’m trying to tell you how to do your job, but I know these girls much better than you. Granted, I’m prejudiced, by being Alice’s mother and by disliking Daisy so intensely, and I’m well aware that prejudice will always find ways of disguising and exploiting itself; nonetheless, I just don’t believe Daisy’s telling the truth.’ Frowning, now rubbing her shins, she said, ‘And that’s not because I don’t want to believe it, or because I’m trying to prevent Torrance from being destroyed.’ She looked across at him. ‘She will be, whatever happens. Not to put too fine a point on it, innocent or guilty, she’s damned either way. You can’t save her, but you could perhaps save someone else in the future.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  That lopsided smile made another brief appearance. ‘I’m not sure I do, either. My brain’s getting somewhat ahead of itself.’ She paused, marshalling her thoughts. ‘If you take Daisy’s story to its logical conclusion, Torrance could end up on trial for killing Sukie and with denial as her only defence she wouldn’t fare too well. Now, if Daisy is lying, imagine how crazed with power she’d become if that happened.’

  ‘And because feelings like that need constant stimulus to keep them alive,’ McKenna added, ‘she’d try it on again.’

  ‘Yes.’ Martha nodded. ‘I’m sure she would. Not perhaps so much for the malicious satisfaction, bu
t because she loves drama and the buzz it gives her. She seems to need it, to make her feel she matters and that’s probably why she tells lies.’ She turned in her seat to face him. ‘She and Alice were knocking ten bells out of each other earlier, but Grace Blackwell actually provoked the fight by saying even Daisy herself doesn’t know when she’s telling the truth. Daisy swore at her, then I heard what sounded like a slap.’

  ‘So why was Daisy fighting with Alice and not Grace?’

  ‘Perhaps Alice was stopping her from battering Grace — I don’t know, but I’d like time to find out. That’s what I meant when I said you had a choice about how and when you deal with things.’ Her next smile held a little optimism. ‘And don’t think Alice won’t come clean. Once she really understands the implications of all this, not only for Torrance, but for Daisy and herself, she’ll tell me the truth, at least about the brawl. People’s behaviour, you see, is a circle of consistency. Alice only digs in her heels so far — in the end her intelligence gets the better of her mulishness.’

  ‘Are you clutching at straws?’ he asked gently. ‘Barely ten minutes ago you were convinced Daisy killed Sukie and tried to kill Torrance.’

  ‘Heat of the moment,’ she replied wryly. ‘And as I said, prejudice will out.’ Her face fell then. ‘You warned me yesterday about usually finding the killer close to home, didn’t you? Please give me time to talk to Alice,’ she entreated, touching his arm with her gnarled, trembling fingers. ‘I can’t bear the thought that Torrance might have done something to her. I must find out!’

  17

  With Nona beside him, McKenna stayed on the forecourt until Martha’s car vanished around the first bend in the drive. A moment before then Alice, in the passenger seat, turned to look, not at them, but at the school.

  ‘Aren’t you taking a bit of a risk, sir?’ Nona asked doubtfully. ‘Suppose they don’t come back?’

  ‘They will,’ he told her, setting off for the mobile incident room. ‘Stupid is one thing Martha Rathbone definitely is not.’

  ‘Where’s she staying?’

  ‘Down the road, at the pub. She says the food’s good and it’s very homely.’