In the Blood

by Ruth Mancini

  Ellie sighs, heavily. ‘It would be in the papers. Everyone would know.’

  ‘That’s probably true. But it’s not illegal, and it hasn’t necessarily harmed Finn. So long as you’ve been careful...’

  ‘I’m always careful.’

  ‘...and you haven’t got involved with drugs.’

  ‘I wouldn’t touch that muck.’

  ‘Then, you haven’t done anything wrong, not in the eyes of the law, anyway. Whereas if you’re locked up for... for this... well, it’s unlikely you’ll ever see Finn again.’

  Ellie squeezes her eyes shut. A teardrop escapes. She moves her head sharply down and her forehead furrows. After a moment she opens her eyes and looks up at me. ‘But I might not ever see him again,’ she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. ‘I don’t know if I’m ever going to see him again, do I?’

  I take a deep breath. I lean forward and touch her hand. ‘It’s been over two weeks and he’s still alive, Ellie. There’s still hope.’

  She shakes her head, her eyes brimming with tears again. ‘Have you any idea what this is like?’ she asks. ‘Waking up every day, without him. Every day, it’s like I’m there in the hospital again, seeing my baby’s blood all over the floor... seeing him lying there unconscious and watching the doctors trying to save his life. I didn’t even have a chance to kiss him goodbye. The cops dragged me away. That was the last time I saw him. I spend a week in prison, not knowing if he was going to live or die, and now this... It’s killing me,’ she sobs. ‘Not seeing him, not being able to hold him and be with him. It’s tearing me apart!’ She waves her hands at the photo exhibits. ‘Do you think I don’t want to know who did all this stuff, who pulled that fucking tube out? Do you think I don’t worry, every minute of every day, that it’s going to happen again?’

  I nod. I know the kind of fear that she’s describing – the icy kind of fear that clutches at your stomach, that lives with you, hour after hour, day after day.

  ‘We can’t stop time while we wait for Finn to get better,’ I tell her. ‘We have to prepare your case. What happened in the hospital... well, the evidence against you is largely circumstantial. We’ll explore that further once we get the CCTV. But who caused the injuries, how and what he swallowed on the day he was admitted to hospital... this is crucial to the case as a whole. Finn was in your care. At this moment in time, the finger is pointing at you, fairly and squarely. If you didn’t hurt Finn – and I believe you that you didn’t – you are going to need to tell the court who did. You need to tell the truth.’

  Ellie turns her tear-streaked face towards the window again for a minute, and then says, ‘I don’t want to get Marie into trouble.’

  ‘Ellie!’ I shake my head, my voice rising in disbelief. ‘Don’t you care that he’s been poisoned while she was looking after him? If it was me, I’d have been banging her front door down, demanding to know what she’s done to my child.’

  ‘But I don’t think she hurt Finn. She’d never hurt Finn.’

  ‘So you’ve never even confronted her about any of this?’

  ‘Of course I have. I asked her about it, all of it,’ Ellie protests. ‘She said she didn’t know.’

  ‘And that was good enough for you? You just accepted that and handed Finn back over to her?’

  ‘No! It wasn’t like that!’

  ‘Well, what was it like, then?’ I demand.

  She looks up, plaintively. ‘I thought the bruises were accidental. I really did. That’s what the expert said.’ She catches my eye and corrects herself. ‘That’s kind of what he said. But I didn’t know then what I know now...’ She tails off.

  I pull my computer keyboard towards me and open a new document. ‘Go on.’

  Ellie pulls her sleeves down over her hands again and wipes at her eyes. ‘I did notice some bruises a few times,’ she says. ‘But they were small, and there weren’t that many, nothing like that.’ She waves her hand at the exhibits, which are now stacked into a pile on the corner of my desk. ‘I bruise easily,’ she adds. ‘I just thought Finn did too. He learned to sit up and then he was crawling and then he was pulling himself up onto furniture and falling down again all the time, and... But those pictures... I honestly didn’t realise he had so many bruises. I’d been away.’

  ‘Away?’

  ‘The week before he got that virus and went into hospital. I’d been away with a client. An overseas booking. He was a... a politician. Quite a well-known one.’ She glances up at me and I think for a moment that she’s going to tell me who it is. ‘When I got back and picked Finn up from Marie and got him changed for bed, I was really shocked, and worried, when I saw how many bruises he had, and that big one... the one on his tummy. I’d never seen that before, I swear. But I still thought they must have been an accident. Once he was on the move, there was no stopping him. He could climb onto anything, the sofa, the coffee table... he was always falling off.’

  ‘And the cigarette burns?’

  ‘I thought he had impetigo.’

  I look up from the computer screen. ‘Impetigo?’

  ‘I had it when I was a kid,’ she explains. ‘That’s kind of what it looks like. I never... I never thought for even a moment that someone had burned him.’

  ‘So, did you take him to the doctor?’

  ‘It wasn’t that bad.’ She looks up. ‘I mean, obviously it was if it was what they’re saying it was. But I thought it was just a few... scabs. I always used to have to just keep them clean. You’re not supposed to do anything about impetigo unless it gets infected.’

  I tap at my keyboard and she waits for me to catch up with what she’s said, before adding, ‘I can’t believe Marie would do that. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. Not on purpose.’

  ‘Maybe not on purpose. But she drinks and she smokes and she’s clumsy, Ellie. She nearly set fire to her carpet when I was there. And then there’s her boyfriend. Darren.’

  ‘You met Darren?’

  ‘Yes. Tell me about him.’

  Ellie pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, sighs and looks away at the window again. ‘His name’s Darren Webb. They’ve been together ages. I thought he was OK. I even kind of liked him. I mean, I knew he was a bit... I knew he liked a drink and that. I knew they argued, him and Marie. But it didn’t seem anything to worry about. But now I know other things about him. I’ve heard stuff. And when I got arrested the first time, he threatened me. He was waiting outside the police station when they released me on bail.’

  I look up. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He said that if I dragged him into any of this, he’d tell Social Services that I was a hooker and I’d never see Finn again.’

  I stop typing and look at her. ‘He threatened you?’

  ‘Yes. And I believed him. Especially later, when I found out...’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That he’s a drug dealer. I’ve seen people coming and going from Marie’s flat. I’ve seen people getting into his car on the back of the estate. And I’ve heard he carries a knife.’

  ‘So is it possible that he did these things to Finn?’

  ‘Well, yes. Of course it’s possible.’ She glances at me. ‘And I feel terrible. I would never have left Finn anywhere near him if I’d known.’

  I think about this for a moment. ‘Is it possible that Darren left drugs lying around? That Finn could have swallowed something, the day he fell ill?’

  She shrugs. ‘Well, yeah. Of course it is. Like I said, Finn was into everything... every cupboard, every drawer. But if you say anything... he’ll just deny it. How are you going to prove it was him?’

  ‘I don’t know yet. But in the meantime, you need to tell me the truth about their involvement with Finn, his and Marie’s.’

  ‘OK,’ she agrees.

  ‘So, when did Marie start looking after him?’

  ‘From day one,’ she says. ‘Pretty much. Well, not day one, obviously, but she had him a few times for me, here and there from when he was around thre
e months old. And then when he was a bit bigger, I just took on more and more work.’

  ‘So when did you first start to leave him for any length of time?’

  ‘I don’t know. When he was around five or six months old, I suppose. Marie started having him overnight.’

  I flick through my bundle of papers and pull out the statement of the A&E nurses. ‘So would that coincide with when the bruises first began to appear?’

  ‘Yes. Probably.’

  ‘Do you have any dates? Dates that you worked?’

  ‘I didn’t keep a diary. I would just get a call asking me to work, and I’d go. I kept it all in here.’ She taps her head.

  ‘Who was in charge of your bookings?’

  ‘The agency. It’s called Charms of Chelsea. It’s just off Sloane Square.’

  I tap Ellie’s words into the computer. ‘So, can you speak to them? They must have a record.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Get the dates, and then we’ll go through the statements in detail. So... if Darren knew what you were doing, presumably Marie knew too?’

  ‘Yes. It was a friend of hers who introduced me to the agency. She got me into it in the first place.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Her friend, not Marie. Marie isn’t really cut out for the escort business.’

  ‘No. I can... I can see that wouldn’t be an obvious choice for her.’

  Ellie says, ‘She hasn’t always looked how she does now. She used to be quite slim. But it wasn’t for her anyway. She said she’d rather have a pint than a shag.’

  ‘She likes a drink, does she?’

  Ellie frowns. ‘She’s not an alcoholic, if that’s what you’re saying.’

  ‘She was drunk when I was there.’

  ‘Maybe, but she’s not like that all the time.’ She looks up. ‘Marie’s a good friend,’ she insists. ‘And she was willing to have Finn whenever I wanted, and keep him overnight. She’s just next door. It was easy. I thought I was doing the right thing, for me and for Finn; I was just trying to earn enough money to get a better life for us both, to get us off the estate.’

  ‘So, how much did you earn?’

  ‘Anything between a hundred and fifteen hundred pounds per client. It would depend.’

  I nod, quickly. I know what it depends on; I don’t need the detail.

  ‘And how much did you pay Marie?’

  ‘I paid her well. It depends on what I earned but if I was out all night she’d get a hundred plus.’

  ‘OK. So how often would she have Finn?’

  ‘Whenever I got work. It could be one night per week or three or four clients in one day.’

  I try my hardest not to picture this. ‘So, is it fair to say that there were weeks when you weren’t at home very much?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And Marie would have Finn every time?’

  ‘Yes. She was really good. I could just get a call, pick Finn up with his things and take him next door five minutes later. She’d have him overnight for as long as I needed her to.’

  ‘Well, I’m not surprised. I expect she was more than happy to have him; she must have been making pretty good money herself. But what about Jay? Why didn’t you ask him? Or his parents?’

  Ellie shakes her head. ‘Jay’s mum offered to babysit, but I just told her I was breastfeeding Finn and couldn’t express much milk. I think Jay knew that that wasn’t true, but he didn’t want her to get wind of what I did for a living any more than I did.’

  ‘So was there ever a genuine relationship between the two of you?’

  Ellie hesitates for a moment. ‘No. Although... he was a regular client. I saw him for at least six months before I fell pregnant.’

  ‘So, how did that happen? If you’re always careful?’

  Ellie shrugs. ‘I was sick, messed up with my pills that month. I always make them use a rubber anyway. But he liked to do it without. He was always asking and just the one time I let him. I never did that for anyone else.’

  I look at her. ‘Do you think you were falling for him?’

  Ellie doesn’t answer.

  ‘Did he have feelings for you?’

  Ellie shakes her head. ‘I don’t think so. I don’t know. But I’m not stupid. He was never going to marry me, a hooker from a housing estate. He would never have done anything about it if he had.’

  *

  By the time we’ve been through the toxicology report and I’ve taken details of what Ellie’s given Finn to eat, I can see that she’s had enough. We still don’t know if the evidence from the agency nurse will be admissible and there’s nothing yet from the doctors, so I tell her that we will call it a day.

  I follow her down the stairs into the reception area. ‘Ellie, tell me something,’ I ask. ‘About the escorting.’

  ‘I’ve stopped,’ she says, quickly. ‘I’m not doing it any more, I promise. That last one... the one last week. That was a one-off. I owed him. He’d bought me a lot of nice clothes and stuff. But I can’t risk it any more. They’ll hold it against me. I can’t risk losing Finn.’

  ‘That wasn’t what I was going to ask, actually.’

  She turns to face me. ‘Oh. So, what? You want an introduction?’ she asks.

  I laugh and glance over at Lucy who, fortunately, has her headphones on and is busy typing.

  ‘You’ve got a good figure. You’re pretty,’ Ellie adds. ‘You could make some good money.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I smile. ‘I’ll bear that in mind when the next round of legal aid cuts comes in. But what I want to know is, what do you talk about? I mean, isn’t the idea behind escorting that you provide great company and witty, sparkling conversation and generally make the man feel as though he’s on a first date, albeit one that comes with a guarantee of sex at the end?’

  ‘Pretty much,’ she agrees.

  ‘So, don’t take this the wrong way, but conversation doesn’t exactly seem to be your thing. What do you talk about?’

  Ellie looks at me for a moment. ‘Cars,’ she says.

  ‘Cars?’

  ‘I watch Top Gear and I read the Telegraph. That pretty much covers it. After that you just have to listen.’

  I smile. ‘I’d bet you could teach us women a thing or two about men.’

  Ellie shrugs. ‘There’s only one thing you need to know about men.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘They’re not women,’ she says, before pushing the door open and walking out into the street.

  8

  The public entrance to the Old Bailey is tailed back with visitors, all queuing for a seat at the high-profile murder trial that is going on in Court Two. I walk round the corner past the swarms of journalists and video crews to the lawyers’ entrance, where I show my ID and am directed through the glass doors inside. My bag is checked and I am patted down by security before I’m allowed to walk through the entrance and up the staircase into the imposing stone hallway of the Central Criminal Court. Above the marbled grey walls and lemon vaulted ceiling, sunlight is spilling through the glass of three magnificent muralled domes onto the polished mosaic floor below. As always, I am awed by the intricate collision of arches and slopes, by the sombre stillness that surrounds me.

  Will is outside Court One in his wig and gown. He glances up from his brief when he sees me. ‘Good morning, Ms Kellerman. Is your client here?’

  I shake my head. ‘Not yet. But we need to talk. I got you a coffee.’ I hand him a paper cup, take his arm, and steer him into one of the nearby alcoves. I pull a handful of sugar sachets and a wooden stirrer out of the zip-up pocket of my handbag and slide them across the table towards him. ‘So.’ I lower my voice. ‘Do you want the good news or the bad news?’

  Will screws up his face and picks up his coffee cup. ‘Don’t tell me – she’s not coming?’

  ‘No, no – it’s not that. She’s on her way.’ I hold up my phone to show him the text I’ve just received from Ellie. ‘And not only that, but she has a defence. A credible one
.’

  ‘Really? What is it?’

  ‘She’s a hooker, not a hairdresser.’ I smile.

  Will splutters a little and puts down his cup. ‘That’s her defence?’

  ‘Yes. And so... she was at work when Finn was injured, and again when he was poisoned. Her neighbour was babysitting.’

  Will cocks his head to one side. ‘So is that the good news or the bad news?’

  ‘It’s both. I know. It’s a tricky one.’

  Will scratches his head. ‘It won’t sit well with a jury, that’s for sure. But I suppose it explains why she didn’t mention anything to the police.’

  I nod. ‘She knew how it would look. She didn’t want anyone to know.’

  ‘But we’re going to tell them, is that right?’

  I put down my coffee and look him in the eye. ‘The thing is, Will, I think we have to. It’s the only angle we’ve got: Ellie didn’t do it because she wasn’t there. She’s going to get me a list of her bookings from the agency that she worked for, which will prove that she was out with clients on numerous occasions between the dates that the injuries first started to appear and Finn’s first hospitalisation in April. Most notably, she was away on an overseas trip with a client – a well-known politician, apparently – the week before Finn went into hospital and the medical exhibits were taken. She says she had no idea the injuries were that bad until she got home. And then she was arrested and Finn was taken away from her.’

  Will nods, slowly, as he takes this in. ‘So who’s the babysitter?’

  ‘Her next-door neighbour, Marie.’

  ‘So Marie caused the injuries, is that what we’re saying?’

  ‘Her... or her boyfriend, Darren Webb. They both drink. He knocks her about. He threatened Ellie. He might have caused the injuries to Finn.’

  ‘Can we prove it?’

  ‘Not exactly. Marie won’t talk to us; Ellie’s tried. But we can prove that Ellie was at work, that someone else was looking after Finn. Enough to raise sufficient doubt, surely, especially if Ellie was abroad when the most serious injuries occurred?’

  Will narrows his eyes playfully. ‘So, come on. Who’s the politician?’

  ‘I don’t know. To her credit, she didn’t tell me.’