by M A Comley
“Wow, okay. Writing fiction or non-fiction?”
“Now you’re testing my memory. Let me do a quick Google search for you.” He tapped on his computer and supplied her with the answer within a few seconds. “Here you go. He writes under the name of T G Stockard and, well, bugger me, he writes non-fiction. Actually, you two would probably get on like a house on fire.”
Sally frowned. “Meaning?”
“Meaning that he delves into unsolved cases and highlights them in his books.”
“Interesting. I’ll see if my team can track him down. Thanks, Phil.”
“Whoa! You can’t leave me hanging like that. What’s he supposed to have done wrong?”
“Sorry. We’ve opened up a new case, a cold case going back nineteen years. I’ve heard from the mother that he caused a problem at the funeral, went against the family’s wishes and photographed the child’s coffin in the grave.”
“Jesus, what an absolute tosser.”
“Agreed. I just wanted to track him down to ask him a few questions, that’s all. We’re struggling with this case and we’ve only just begun. It would be good to get some kind of insight from him about it if he was around back then.”
“Good idea. Sorry you’ve been handed another tough case. Give me a shout if you need a hand with anything.”
“Actually, now you’ve mentioned it, I could do with an insider to tell me how this case went down via the media, if you’re up to digging into it for me?”
“For you, anything. Want to leave it with me for a day or two?”
“Don’t you want to know what case it is?”
“Oops…I forgot that part. My pen is at the ready.”
Sally tutted. “What are you like? It’s the Millie Pickrel case. She was six when she was murdered in her own home by an intruder.”
“Damn. That’s a tough one to swallow for the parents. Were they in the house?”
“Nope. The father was banged up in a prison cell. The brother, who was twelve at the time, was at home and disturbed the killer. He called nine-nine-nine and was trying his best to revive her when the paramedics got there.”
“Shit, the poor kid, or should I say kids? And the mother? Don’t tell me she was the irresponsible type who went out and left her kids to fend for themselves at night?”
“No. She was out on her first date in years, arranged for a babysitter to look after the kids, but the girl learned of an emergency and had to leave. The babysitter’s father died of a heart attack that night as well.”
“Holy crap, are you kidding me?”
“I wish I was. It’s all true.”
“Okay, I’ll see what I can find out and get back to you later on today. If I get snowed under, can I ring you when you’re off duty this evening?”
“Of course you can. You don’t usually ask my permission.”
“You weren’t married then. Congratulations, by the way.”
Her cheeks warmed up, and she smiled. “Idiot. Thanks. Simon is cool, unlike my previous husband.”
“Glad you’ve found a decent man at last, Sally, you deserve to be happy, love.”
“You’re too kind. I’ve gotta go. I have something in my eye that needs my attention.”
“You daft mare. Okay, be in touch soon.”
“Thanks, matey. Nice chatting to you.”
“Ditto,” Phil said then hung up.
Jack must have been standing on the other side of the door listening, because as soon as she placed the phone in its docking station, he entered the room. “How’s it going? Brushed up on the case yet?”
“Sort of. Just got off the phone to my journalist friend. He’s going to look back in the archives for me. You know that journalist who spoilt the funeral for the family? He’s now an author.”
“Really? I bet he’s raking it in.”
“Not necessarily. I’ve heard that some authors just write to free their minds of all the clutter jumbled up in their heads. Here’s a staggering statistic for you to devour: most UK authors barely manage to scrape together the minimum wage, can you believe that?”
“How do you know that?”
“I read an article about it the other day, somewhere. I also read that there’s a relatively new craze of people self-publishing rather than going through a traditional publisher.”
“Who’d have thunk it? I bet that ticks the publishers off.”
“Maybe. It’s their loss if these guys go on to be successful.”
“True. Right, what’s on the agenda?”
“Now I’ve had a good look at things, I think our next stop should be the babysitter. Have you got her address handy?”
He waved a sheet of paper in his right hand and offered her a smug grin. “Thought you might say that.”
“Let’s go then.”
4
Lisa Watson opened the door to her terraced home. She looked around thirty-five. Her hair had blonde highlights with purple streaks running through it. Lisa welcomed them and showed them into the lounge. “Take a seat.”
“Thanks, Lisa. I should formally introduce myself to you. I’m DI Sally Parker, and this big guy is my partner, DS Jack Blackman. Try not to be worried, you’re not in any trouble, we’re only here to ascertain all the facts.”
“Why now? Why have you reopened the case after all this time? It doesn’t make sense.” She was sitting on a beanbag she’d pulled from the corner of the room while Sally and Jack sat on the fabric-covered two-seater couch. The room wasn’t really big enough for any further furniture apart from a small cabinet which housed a thirty-inch TV along one of the walls. It was a cosy room, painted in a soft green hue.
“Two reasons. One is that as a cold case team we’ve been tasked to check a few cases yet unsolved in our area, and the second reason is because we’re approaching the twenty-year anniversary of this heinous crime. The family have been crying out for answers for years, and no one has listened to them. We’re here to make up for that and to try and bring the culprit to justice. Our ultimate aim is to give Anna the closure she needs to move on with her life.”
“Move on with her life? She’s remarried, hasn’t she? And had another child from what I’ve heard. I’d say she has moved on all right.” Her hands shook in her lap. She was clenching them together to prevent them from trembling out of control from what Sally could tell.
“Do I detect a note of bitterness in your tone, Lisa?” Sally asked, sitting on the edge of the uncomfortable couch.
“Yes and no. I’m happy she’s moved on. Some of us haven’t been as fortunate as her.”
“Meaning you?”
“Yes, me. Two people were lost that night, and I’ve never forgiven myself for the part I played in their deaths.”
“You blame yourself? Why? From what I recollect about the case, no blame was ever laid at your door.”
“It should have been. I should never have left the kids alone that night. I was in charge of them. If it hadn’t been for that call from my mum, well, I would have stayed at the house and I could have fought off the intruder.”
“And you might not be here today,” Sally replied, feeling sorry for the woman and the obvious torture she’d subjected herself to over the years.
“At least I would have gone down fighting. Millie didn’t stand a chance. She was an adorable child. Her laughter filled that house. Even if you weren’t in the same room as her you could hear her treasured laugh.” She ran a shaking hand over her face, and her eyes swelled with unshed tears.
“No one could have predicted how things would turn out.”
“I shouldn’t have left the children alone.”
Sally shook her head. “I think you’re wrong. Any other decent human being in your position would have done the same thing.”
“Would they? I doubt it. The least I could have done was ask a neighbour to sit with the children while Anna was on her way back. I didn’t. Knowing that has haunted me day and night ever since.”
“You’ve punished yourse
lf unnecessarily over the years then, Lisa. What were you at the time? Sixteen? I know where my head would have been at that age, with my own family. No one could’ve known what would happen in your absence. It was an unfortunate incident, made far worse by the fact that you lost your own father that night.”
The tears trickled down her cheeks, and Lisa swiped them away. “I’ll never rid myself of this feeling, ever.”
“Why? Why do you persist in punishing yourself like this?”
“I deserve to be punished for failing Anna. She put her trust in me to look after those children, and what did I do? I ran out on them, leaving them in a perilous position.”
Sally’s heart went out to the young woman who had been riddled with guilt for the past nineteen years. “You had other priorities, Lisa.”
“Dad was already dead by the time I got to the hospital…I was too late to say goodbye to him.”
The sobs came then and continued for the next five to ten minutes. In that time, Sally instructed Jack to make them a drink. She knelt on the floor beside Lisa and placed a soothing hand on the woman’s back, rubbing it gently up and down her spine.
“I’m so sorry, not only for your devastating loss but for the guilt you’ve unnecessarily carried on your shoulders all these years.”
Lisa wiped her nose on the sleeve of her cardigan. “There’s no need for you to feel sorry for me. It’s Millie you should feel sorry for, Millie and Anna, oh, and Louie, of course. What that child must have gone through that night is nobody’s business. I haven’t seen him since Millie’s funeral; he could barely look at me at the graveside. I know he blamed me for leaving them. I tried to speak to him that day, to apologise, but he hid behind his mother and refused to talk to me. My father’s funeral happened the same day, by the way. I made sure I attended both funerals because of the guilt factor.”
“That was kind of you. All I can say is that Louie’s own feelings must have been in turmoil at the time. I’m sure he didn’t mean to blank you. Twelve-year-olds must be a handful to deal with at the best of times.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think he was. He was a loving child who thought the world of his sister, and she was no longer around because of the mistake I made.”
Jack entered the room with a tray of mugs. He held out a black coffee to Lisa. She accepted it with a weak smile of appreciation.
“Thanks, Jack.” Sally took a second mug off the tray.
“Do you want me to leave the room?” he asked.
Sally smiled. “Would you mind?”
He nodded, took the tray with him and closed the door gently behind him.
Sally retook her seat on the couch and cradled her mug in both hands. “I know how difficult this must be for you, Lisa, and I’m sorry if my being here is stirring up old memories you’d rather forget, but I have to ask if you saw anything out of the ordinary that night.”
Lisa shook her head. “It’s not stirring up the memories because they’re constantly with me, twenty-four hours a day. I wish I could rid myself of them. It’s impossible.”
“Have you considered counselling?”
“I’ve seen several shrinks over the years. They’ve all assured me I wasn’t to blame for what happened, but deep down, I know that’s not true.”
“I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through. As an outsider, all I can do is point out that no one could have dreamt anything like this would have happened while you were watching the children. Do you really think Anna would have employed you if she’d sensed things were going to go wrong? No, she wouldn’t. Please, you must stop the guilt eating away at you. What job do you do, Lisa?”
“I don’t work. I’ve tried to hold down a number of jobs over the years but I’ve only lasted a few days.”
“You have some serious issues which need addressing before you search for another job. How long do you think you can go on like this?”
“As long as it takes. I know how foolish I’m being. What you don’t understand is that every time I close my eyes, I see Millie’s precious smiling face. How do you suggest I rid myself of that? It’s not even as if my father’s face appears; the guilt of not saying goodbye to him that evening pales into insignificance compared to the guilt I feel for leaving Millie. Surely you can understand how I must feel?”
Sally shook her head. “Not really. There’s the old adage that time is a great healer. Let it heal you, love. If you don’t do it soon, then I fear you’re going to end up in an early grave.”
Lisa raised her head to look at Sally. “I know. I hope it happens soon.”
Sally gasped. “You don’t mean that?”
“I do. Over the years, when things have got on top of me, I’ve attempted to end my life.”
Tears pricked Sally’s eyes. “That’s tough, I’m sorry you feel that way. You’ve wasted your whole adult life with the guilt you carry with you. You have to move on, Lisa. Don’t be a prisoner to your emotions.”
“I wish that intruder had killed me instead of that beautiful, innocent child. I can’t emphasise that enough. She was a cherished little girl, cherished by her mother and brother and me, a complete stranger…I let them down.”
Sally sensed no matter what she said to the woman, Lisa wasn’t about to listen to her. She sipped her drink instead as the room fell silent. After a while, she asked, “When you left the property that night, did you see anyone on the street?”
“No, not that I can remember. He must have been there, loitering in the shadows, waiting for me to leave the house. If I’d seen anyone, I would’ve reconsidered my position and gone back inside the house and locked the door. There was no one around.”
“Okay, well, if there’s nothing else you can help me with, then I’m going to leave. However, I’m concerned about your well-being. I don’t feel inclined to leave you when your heart is breaking like this. Is there anyone I can call, your mother perhaps?”
“No. Mum and I lost contact with each other a few years ago. She can’t understand me punishing myself over a mere child—her words not mine.”
“Oh dear, that’s a shame. Do you have any siblings?”
“No, I’m an only child. I’ll be fine, Inspector. Please don’t worry about me. What happens now, with regard to the investigation?”
“We’ve had to start from scratch, which is tough almost twenty years later. Over the coming weeks we’ll be interviewing everyone who made a statement at the time, searching for clues that were possibly missed during the initial investigation. If I leave you a card, will you promise to ring me if you think of anything I should know about? My visit might jolt a memory once I’ve gone.”
“I doubt it. I’ll get in touch if anything comes to mind. Do you think it’s possible that the intruder did this to other families? Robbed them of their children?”
“That’s another angle we’re pursuing at present. Most burglaries are just that. These people tend to go after valuable possessions. It’s extremely rare that an intruder breaks into a house with the intention of killing someone, let alone a small child.”
“I read that at the time. Do you think that’s why the investigation didn’t really get off the ground?”
Sally hitched up her right shoulder. “Who knows?”
Lisa gasped. “What if this person is dead? What happens then?”
“Then there’s very little we can do about it. All that will do is give the family the peace of mind that the person concerned can no longer hurt anyone.”
“I hope he isn’t. He deserves to be put away for the rest of his life. And when you find the culprit, please make sure the other prisoners know what he is guilty of. Maybe the prisoners will mete out their own punishment.”
“Prisoners have a tendency to be aware of what goes on in the outside world, so I doubt the news of any likely arrest will remain a secret for long. God help him if that happens. I know I’m going over old ground here, but please, Lisa, promise me you’ll seek help when I go?”
“I can’t p
romise that, Inspector. I wish you luck with the investigation.”
They both stood.
Sally hugged Lisa. “Ditto, Lisa. You’re a special lady who doesn’t deserve to punish herself like this.”
“Thank you, but in all honesty, you don’t know me.”
Sally winked. “I’m a good judge of character…most of the time,” she added after a slight pause as Darryl’s face entered her mind. She quickly pushed the abhorrent image aside and returned to the front door with Lisa. Jack was waiting just outside the front door. “Here’s my card. Ring me if you remember anything you want to add or if you need my help with anything.”
“Thank you, I will.”
“I mean it. If ever you feel the need to reach out to someone, I can help, okay?”
Lisa placed a hand halfway up the door and leaned her head against it. “I appreciate it, Inspector. Good luck.”
Sally smiled and walked back to Jack’s car. They both got inside.
Sally heaved out a large sigh and stared back to see Lisa closing the door. “Can you imagine the heartache that young woman has been through over the years?”
“Self-inflicted by the sounds of it. The mother didn’t blame her, did she?”
“No, that’s true. What a shame. All those years wasted. Who’s to say what amount of torment still lies ahead of her in the future?” Sally reflected, saddened for the young woman.
“Back to base?”
“Yep, I think so.”
Upon their return, they discovered the rest of the team had gone above and beyond to locate nearly all of the Pickrels’ immediate neighbours. Joanna eagerly passed over a sheet of paper for Sally to peruse during her cup of coffee at her desk. Jack joined her in the office.
“Are we going to interview these people or pass it over to the team?”
“Is that what you think we should do?”
He shrugged. “I don’t care.”
“Wait a minute,” Sally said, glancing down at the sheet.
“Go on, don’t keep me waiting. What’s up?”
“One of the neighbours has got a rap sheet for indecent assault on a child.”