‘Cause of death?’ said Thanet with a grin.
Mallard smote his forehead. ‘You’ll have to pension me off soon, I must be getting senile … As a matter of fact, it was rather interesting. Contre-coup.’
‘Really?’ Thanet had heard of this, of course, but had never actually come across it in one of his cases.
Lineham was looking puzzled. ‘It rings a bell, but …’
Mallard loved expounding. ‘Very interesting type of head injury.’ He picked up an ash tray. ‘Imagine this is your victim’s skull. Now in the classic blow to the stationary head with a blunt instrument,’ and he demonstrated by clenching his fist and hitting the side of the ashtray, ‘you have a rather nasty fracture, with bits of bone being driven into the soft brain tissue lying directly below the area of impact. This is the most common type of head injury, the “coup” injury—“coup” meaning “blow”, of course. But in contre-coup you have an injury to the opposite side from the point of impact, and this occurs when you have a moving head coming into contact with a stationary surface.’ He demonstrated by striking the ashtray on Thanet’s desk and putting his finger on the rim at a point directly opposite the site of impact.
Lineham was working it out. ‘So you’re saying that the damage to Charity’s brain was on the opposite side from the injury from the latch.’
‘That’s right. It is believed that what actually happens in this type of injury is that you have compression of brain tissue when it strikes the inside of the skull and also a kind of tearing effect on membrane and blood vessels due to rotational forces which cause the brain to go on moving inside the skull after the head has come to rest.’
‘So she must have been thrown against the latch with considerable force,’ said Thanet.
‘Not necessarily. If she’d been off balance, for example, with most of her weight resting on her right foot, the side of the injury …’
‘Was there any evidence of the blow, shove or whatever it was that threw her against the door?’
‘Only a slight bruising across the right side of her face and neck’
‘Caused by?’
‘Ah, now here we enter the realm of speculation,’ said Mallard, getting up. ‘And that’s your job, not mine. I must be off, I’m late already.’
‘Just one more point,’ said Thanet quickly as Mallard headed for the door.
Mallard stopped, turned to peer at Thanet over his spectacles. ‘What?’
‘Were there any traces of make-up on her face?’
‘As a matter of fact, there were. Very slight traces, mind. Eye make-up, chiefly. Mascara and so on. Why do you ask?’
‘Just wondered. Anyway, thanks for coming up, Doc.’
‘Er … Doc.’ Lineham was on his feet, looking sheepish. ‘Sorry I got so worked up just now.’
Mallard twinkled at him over his spectacles. ‘If I apologised for every time I’d lost my temper, I’d be a rich man. Forget it.’
Thanet was glad that Lineham had saved him the trouble of a reprimand in somewhat delicate circumstances He gave the sergeant an approving nod and said, ‘Now then, Mike …’
‘Just a minute, sir. Before we start talking about something else, why did you ask? About make-up.’
‘Think, Mike. Do you recall seeing make-up of any description in her belongings? In her bag? In her suitcase? In her room at home?’
‘No. So I still don’t get it. What did make you ask?’
Thanet stood up. ‘Come on, I’ll tell you on the way to Lantern Street. We’ve got an appointment to see Veronica again, remember.’
‘You see, Mike,’ he went on, when they were in the car, ‘last night on the way home, I was thinking …’
Lineham groaned.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It was a groan of despair. When you say you’ve been thinking, I know that I’m going to hear something I should have thought of, if I’d only had the wit to do it.’
‘You’d rather not hear?’
‘On the contrary. I can’t wait. I’m a masochist.’
‘Well you did ask …’
‘So?’
‘Well, as I said, on the way home last night, I was thinking. About Charity. Trying to assimilate all the stuff we learned yesterday.’
‘I did that, too,’ said Lineham resignedly. ‘But it didn’t lead me to questions about make-up.’
‘Are you going to listen, or aren’t you? If you want to go on beating your breast, then fine, go ahead and do it. If not, just listen and apply that brain you’re forever saying you haven’t got.’
Lineham’s self-deprecation always irritated Thanet. He knew it ought not to, because he had long ago realised that it was a kind of barometer of the sergeant’s state of mind. When Lineham was feeling good it was conspicuous by its absence. When things were going badly at home, or in his relationship with his difficult, demanding mother, the sergeant’s confidence seemed to crumble away. At the moment, of course, he must be frantic about Louise.
‘You see,’ said Thanet, ‘what puzzled me most was that if Charity had been going off the rails in the way Veronica described, why hadn’t it shown in her appearance? The answer was …’
‘She wouldn’t have dared let it show. Her father would have been down on her like a ton of bricks.’
‘Exactly. But all the same, I somehow just couldn’t picture her behaving as she was supposed to have behaved looking like a twelve-year-old schoolgirl.’
‘There are plenty of men who like little girls.’
‘Maybe. But the man Veronica described, the one Charity picked up on the train, just didn’t sound that type.’
‘That’s true. Too young, for one thing. And his clothes … Sounded the sort to fancy himself with the girls, didn’t he?’
‘Quite. So then I thought, but suppose she had looked different. Put her in jeans, let her hair down, put some make-up on her and she’d have been transformed.’
‘You’re suggesting she actually did have other gear, then?’
‘I am. And if she did, where would she have kept it?’
‘I see … Veronica’s, of course!’
‘Exactly.’
‘Which was why she went there first on Monday, instead of going straight home from the station. She had to change.’
‘Right. Of course, we didn’t think to ask Carson to check how she was dressed, when he was making enquiries at the station.’
‘Nor to ask Veronica, last night.’
‘It hadn’t occurred to me, at that point.’
‘She didn’t mention it herself, though—that Charity had left some stuff at her house.’
‘Scarcely surprising. She was in rather a state, with one thing and another.’
‘Let’s hope she’s calmed down a bit by now.’ Lineham parked neatly in front of the Hodges’ house and they both got out.
By day, Lantern Street was even more depressing than by night. It looked as though only four or five out of the forty or so houses were occupied. The minute front gardens, surrounded by crumbling brick walls, were gateless and rubbish-strewn. Broken gutters leaned crazily down over walls stained green with algae and the rows of boarded-up windows imparted a slightly sinister air to the place.
Lineham grimaced. ‘Pretty grim, isn’t it?’
‘Infested with vermin, too, I shouldn’t be surprised. I wonder why they stay here.’
‘Cheap? It’s not easy, being a widow, with a child to bring up.’
Lineham would know all about that particular struggle, Thanet thought. The sergeant had been only six when he had lost his father and Mrs Lineham had never remarried. ‘Perhaps. Possibly the council won’t re-house until the tenants are actually homeless.’
Mrs Hodges opened the door on the chain.
‘I thought it might be Mr Pritchard back again,’ she explained as she let them in. ‘And there was no way he was going to get over my doorstep again.’
‘Yes, we heard he’d been round to see you this morning.’<
br />
‘According to him I’m the one who’s to blame for Charity’s death, because I didn’t let him know Veronica was ill on Friday morning! As if it wasn’t just as much his fault, going off to Birmingham like that without a word to me. And you should have heard him, ranting and raving about Veronica corrupting his precious Charity, who of course was as pure as the driven snow. Well I soon put him straight on that one, I can tell you. I really let him have it, believe me!’
‘So we gathered.’
She pulled a face. ‘Oh dear. Did he go round and start on you? I am sorry. Please, sit down, both of you.’
She looked exhausted, Thanet thought. Her skin was the colour of a tallow candle and her eyes were red-veined with lack of sleep. And yet, there was a lightness about her which had not been there yesterday.
‘We’ve come to see Veronica, Mrs Hodges,’ he reminded her gently. ‘How is she, this morning?’
Her hands tightened in her lap. ‘She’s still in bed, I’m afraid.’
‘I’m sorry. It really is important that we see her.’
She gave him a long, considering look. ‘Perhaps you ought to know … We had a long talk after you went, last night, Veronica and me.’
Thanet said nothing, waited.
‘I couldn’t just let it go like that … She was so upset. When I went up, I could hear her crying … I knew I wouldn’t sleep. And I thought, well, she must think she’s done something terrible, to be so afraid of me finding out. But she is my daughter, after all, and she’s all I’ve got. We can’t go on like this, what have I got to lose? So I went in to her. At first she wouldn’t listen, put her hands over her ears, but in the end I managed to make her see that I didn’t care what she’d done, it wouldn’t make any difference to the way I felt about her … So then she came out with it.’
Mrs Hodges hesitated. ‘You may think it’s a silly thing to get so worked up about, but then, you didn’t know Veronica’s dad. Straight as a die, he was, and honest as the day is long. I think that’s why she felt so bad about it … She felt she’d let him down, as well as me …’ Mrs Hodges sat up a little straighter and looked defiantly at Thanet. ‘She’d been stealing, you see.’
Thanet nodded. ‘At school.’
She looked astounded. ‘You knew?’
‘I guessed. I went to see Miss Bench the other day and amongst other things she mentioned that there’d been an outbreak of stealing at the school, shortly after she went there as Headmistress. And as you’d already told me about Veronica’s distress and your inability to cope, at the time …’
‘Miss Bench doesn’t know, about Veronica?’ said Mrs Hodges in alarm.
‘Oh no. Certainly not. As I say, the matter was only mentioned in passing and not in connection with Veronica at all, I assure you.’
Mrs Hodges sagged a little, with relief. ‘Thank goodness for that. Veronica couldn’t have borne it coming out at school.’
‘Charity found out, I suppose, and blackmailed her into going along with her?’
‘Yes. She caught her at it one day. She didn’t say anything at first, but gradually she started tagging along with Veronica and Veronica didn’t dare say she didn’t want to be friends with her … Veronica was terrified, all the time, that Charity might give her away, and gradually it got so that Charity was expecting her to spend all her free time with her, go around with her at school … It was just as I thought, Veronica didn’t like her at all, she only went along with her because she was afraid of what would happen if she said she didn’t want to. And all this time, the matter was never mentioned between them, not openly … Veronica said it was just the way Charity would look at her … And then the crunch came, a month or two before Easter. Charity wanted her to go on holiday with her, to Dorset. Veronica didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay here with me, she knew I’d be all on my own, otherwise, right over the holiday … But Charity wouldn’t take no for an answer. And that was when she finally threatened her. Oh, not directly, openly, “I’ll tell,” that sort of thing. But slyly, nastily. “What a pity it would be if your mother found out …” Then, another time, “Wouldn’t it be awful if Miss Bench found out … if the girls found out …” So in the end Veronica gave in. She simply could not bear the thought of being branded as a thief.’ The muscles along Mrs Hodges’ jaw tightened as she clenched her teeth. ‘If I’d known what was going on …’ she said balefully.
Then what? Thanet wondered. Would Mrs Hodges have been so furious with Charity that it could have happened as Lineham had suggested? A quarrel, a blow struck in anger …
But if so, Mrs Hodges was putting on a superb performance. He wouldn’t have thought her capable of such dissimulation. Still, there was a lot at stake, for her. The most ordinary person is capable of extraordinary feats when the whole fabric of his life is threatened.
Mrs Hodges was shaking her head in bewilderment. ‘I don’t understand any of it. I still can’t believe that Veronica could have … But she told me herself, so I suppose I must believe it. I can’t imagine what got into her. Stealing … her dad would have turned in his grave.’
‘Mrs Hodges,’ said Thanet gently. ‘You remember when I came to see you, yesterday?’
She nodded.
‘You remember telling me how your husband’s death hit you so hard that later you blamed yourself for not understanding just how badly Veronica was taking it?’
‘Yes, but I don’t quite see …’
‘Mrs Hodges, did you know that if a previously honest child suddenly starts stealing, it is often regarded as a cry for help?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s a bid for attention. It often begins with stealing from the parent whose affection is desired. Did you notice whether you yourself lost any sums of money around that time?’
Mrs Hodges passed a hand over her face. ‘Now that you mention it … Yes, I do remember. I just put it down to me. I mean, I was in such a state I didn’t really know whether I was coming or going …’
‘Presumably, when Veronica found that that didn’t work, she started stealing at school.’
He watched as understanding afflicted her. ‘Are you saying … you’re saying it was my fault, then.’
Thanet shook his head with impatient compassion. ‘I think that at this stage it is irrelevant—it doesn’t matter—whose fault it is. The important thing is to understand what went wrong, and why. Then you can pick up the pieces and start again. I’m simply saying that I’m sure Veronica is not by nature a thief—the very fact that she has gone to such lengths to keep it from you shows how upset and ashamed she is of what she did—and that her behaviour at that time was the result of a particularly distressing set of circumstances. I honestly don’t think anything is to be gained by dwelling on whose fault it was. From what you say it sounds as though you and Veronica have got the chance of a fresh start, and who knows, the fact that you’ve been through difficult times together may bring you closer than you ever were before.’
Mrs Hodges was listening intently. Oh God, he thought, just listen to me preach. Thanet the social worker again. When I start off on that tack there’s no holding me. If Lineham starts grinning I swear I’ll … but a glance out of the corner of his eye told him that the sergeant was listening with apparent solemnity.
‘Yes …’ said Mrs Hodges. ‘Yes, I can see that …’ She was silent for a few moments and then said, ‘Well, you’ve certainly given me something to think about, Inspector. Thank you.’
All in the day’s work, said an ironic little voice in Thanet’s head. But he simply smiled, said, ‘Good.’
‘There’s just one thing, though,’ said Mrs Hodges anxiously.
‘What’s that?’
‘There won’t be any need for Miss Bench to know, will there?’
‘I should think it extremely unlikely. But I think I can promise you that if it did become necessary for her to know, Miss Bench wouldn’t even consider making the matter public. She’s a very understanding woman.’
&nb
sp; ‘You really think so?’
‘I do. And now, Mrs Hodges, if we could see Veronica …’
She jumped up, her movements suddenly buoyant. ‘I’ll go and see if she’s up. If she’s not, she may take a few minutes.’
Thanet smiled. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll wait.’
As soon as the door had closed behind her, Lineham said, ‘Bull’s-eye again!’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘The stealing. You were right, yet again. Sickening, that’s what it is, sickening. First you guess about the stealing, then about the make-up … It’s enough to give anyone an inferiority complex.’
‘Oh come on, Mike, aren’t you laying it on a bit thick? They’re both very minor matters, after all.’
‘Minor! Well, OK, they might be minor in themselves, but the one put you on to the fact that Charity might be a blackmailer, the other on to where she stashed her gear …’
‘We don’t know that yet, Mike, we’re only guessing.’
‘It’s your guessing I’m complaining about. Some guess! I bet you a fiver you’re right … No! I take that back. I can’t afford to throw fivers away like confetti, I’ll bet you a pint …’
Thanet laughed. ‘Done!’
‘What am I doing? I must be crazy. We both know you’re right.’
‘We’re about to find out.’
They grinned at each other as footsteps were heard on the stairs. Thanet felt his stomach clench in anticipation. He had to be right. He needed Charity to have left her belongings here. There was no telling what he might find …
A moment later Mrs Hodges entered the room, followed closely by Veronica. Like her mother the girl looked pale and very tired. Without the make-up she had been wearing last night she looked much younger.
‘Ah, Veronica,’ said Thanet with a reassuring smile. ‘I hope you’re feeling better, this morning?’ Then, without waiting for an answer, ‘We’ve just come to collect Charity’s things.’
‘Things?’ said Mrs Hodges. And then, with relief in her voice, ‘Oh, her jeans and so on … Run up and fetch them, will you, love?’
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