Goodbye My Precious Child Read online

  Sally’s stomach clenched into a knot. “So I’ve heard. It’s all changed nowadays, thankfully.”

  “Let’s face it, dear. Something had to change before it declined into being farcical. I recall being none too impressed with this officer’s policing skills at the time. When he knocked on my door, it was for a brief chat. I expected him to come back; he never did. Maybe I should have put in a complaint about his work ethic at the time. Trouble with that is, retribution. The police were known for roughing up people who spoke out against them in those days.”

  “Really? Now that’s something I wasn’t aware of. I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t speak out; however, I totally understand why you didn’t. A different world back then, yes?”

  “And some. Anyway, I have to ask how the mother is doing.”

  “She’s well. Pleased we’ve reopened the case. She lives about half an hour away nowadays. She’s married with another child, a boy.”

  “How wonderful. I’m glad she was able to get on with her life after such a tragedy struck her family. And her son?”

  “Louie. We’ve yet to meet him. He’s away at present. We’re hoping to catch up with him soon.”

  “Nice boy, he was. Devoted to his little sister. The number of times I saw them walking hand in hand past my window on the way to the shops to pick up something for their mother. Sad day when that precious child left this earth, sad day indeed. Far too young to get the calling, even if she was murdered. I hate that word. It sounds sinister in itself, or is that just me thinking that?”

  Sally liked this old lady. She said what she meant and didn’t hold back, and it reminded her how her own grandmother used to be when she was alive. Sentimental tears momentarily clouded her vision. “You’re right, I’ve never thought about it that way, but yes, I definitely agree with you. I prefer the word killed, although it’s the same meaning at the end of the day.”

  “I suppose so. What is it you want to speak to me about? I’ll try and help if I can.”

  “Going over old ground, hoping to jog someone’s memory really. Do you remember much about the incident?”

  “Apart from being furious that I felt the investigating officer needed a good shake, you mean?”

  “Yes, apart from that. What I’m more interested in is if you can recall any strangers hanging around, perhaps a week or so before the family tragedy struck.”

  “I thought about it long and hard at the time, thinking that idiot inspector was bound to ask me—he didn’t by the way—and no, nothing out of the ordinary struck me as odd. Not that I was ever a sticky beak back then. I was working full time, but the crime took place after I got in from work. I would have noticed a stranger lingering, I assure you. Having a copper in the family makes you extra vigilant.”

  “I’m sure it does. Is your brother still a copper?”

  Her head dropped a little. “No, he died of lung cancer a few years ago. I suppose that’s what you get for smoking forty fags a day. He wouldn’t be able to afford them these days, what with them being around eight quid a packet or something ridiculous like that.”

  “Horrible habit. Never seen the fascination with it myself. I’m sorry to hear about your brother. Cancer sucks.”

  “It does. Our family has been riddled with it over the years. I’ve managed to dodge it so far. Worse things to deal with, what with this damn spine of mine.”

  “It looks a painful condition, you have my sympathies.”

  “Thank you. Nowt the doctors can do, so I sit here all day, waiting for the end to come.”

  “Oh gosh, don’t say that. Have you thought of going into a nursing home? At least you’d have company during the day.”

  She waved the suggestion away. “Phooey, I’d go downhill rapidly if I was forced to live in one of those damn places. I cope well enough. Can’t stand around cooking in the kitchen like I used to do; I tend to rely on a lot of ready meals that I can slam in the microwave and be done with it.”

  Sally’s heart sank for the poor woman. If she had more time on her hands, she would offer to stay with her for an hour and knock up a nutritional meal for her. Saying that, she doubted very much if the woman would have the ingredients lying around in her kitchen, like fresh veg et cetera, by what she’d already said. “They can be nice, so I’m told.”

  “Hit and miss. I find myself having the same meals every few days because I know they suit my taste. What I wouldn’t give for someone to drop by unannounced and whisk me off for a pub lunch. Make my day that would.”

  “Maybe if you drop a big enough hint to your family, they’ll surprise you one day.”

  “Nope, not going to happen. I’m the last one left. Just me, myself and I.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Perhaps there’s a local club you can go to during the week, something along those lines.”

  “Not that I’ve heard of. I’ll look into it. The trouble is, I enjoy my own company. Can’t stand being false with people. Most of them piss me off really.”

  Sally chuckled. “I know what you mean.”

  “Have you had much joy with your investigation?”

  “Our investigation is still in its infancy, and no, not so far. Opening up a cold case is so much harder than people realise. We’re lucky, insofar as there are five neighbours still living in the area who were around when the crime was committed. You’re the second person I’ve spoken to.”

  “Who’s the other one?”

  “Mr Stanton, a few doors down.”

  “Oh, him. Damn paedo. The likes of him shouldn’t be allowed out of prison.”

  “He’s told me it was a mistake. The flip side to that is he’s done his time for the crime he committed.”

  “That’s as may be, but…” Mrs Wootton shuddered. “He would be at the top of my list of suspects. Creepy little shit, he is. I refuse to speak to the cretin.”

  “Has he ever treated you badly?”

  “I haven’t given him the bloody chance. I keep out of his damn way, always have done.”

  “Do you get on with the other neighbours?”

  “I used to. It was different when we were all working. A cheery hello now and again when we spotted each other either going to or coming home from work. These days, well, frankly, no one seems to give a toss. They much prefer being tucked up in their own safe world behind closed doors.”

  Sally frowned. “Are you saying that’s because of the murder?”

  Her head tilted from side to side, and her mouth turned down. “Possibly. Never thought about it until now. Mind, if they felt that way, why on earth wouldn’t they move away from the area? Why stick around, reliving what went on back then?”

  “No idea, it was just a thought. People get stuck in their ways, resistant to change, I suppose. Anyway, is there anything else you wanted to say to the senior officer in charge back then that you want to say to me?”

  “Open to a bit of criticism, are you?”

  “I can take it on the chin, I have broad shoulders. Hit me with it,” Sally said, smiling.

  “You’re too nice. I couldn’t possibly gun you down. Actually, you’ve done more today than that waste of space of an inspector did at the time. Prat with a capital P comes to mind. You’re thorough, you’re asking all the right questions, let’s say that.”

  “I try to. I have a tendency to put myself in other people’s shoes and ask the most obvious questions. Not every copper does the same, I’m afraid. I treat people courteously and with respect—again, not every serving police officer can say that.”

  “You do. My brother was the same. It’s a shame he had people standing in his way. He deserved to rise up the ranks, bless him. I miss him, he was a daft bugger, caring sort. We got on well together, a bit like the Pickrel children,” she stated, bringing the conversation back to the investigation.

  Sally nodded. “I’m sorry he was let down by the force. I wish I could make amends for that. The truth is, I can’t.”

  She waved her hand again. “Not your problem, you ha
ve enough on your plate. I fear for you if you’re expecting to find some new evidence after all these years. Maybe it would be better to leave well alone, although saying that, I saw the interview on TV with Anna Pickrel. It brought everything flooding back. Her screams that night will live with me until my dying day. I’m surprised she’s been able to get on with her life; not sure I could have done the same. We’re all different, though, aren’t we?”

  “We are. I think it took her a few years. Not something she jumped into, getting married and having another child. Her son is seven, I believe.” Sally realised she was telling the woman too much information, but there was something about her that was making Sally trust her.

  “Each to their own. Wallowing in self-pity never got anyone anywhere, did it?”

  “There is that. Okay, it’s been lovely chatting with you. I’ll leave you a card in case you think of anything when I’ve gone.”

  Mrs Wootton took the card, placed it on the coffee table beside her and started to get to her feet.

  Sally put a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back down. “No, I insist, you sit there. I’ll show myself out and make sure the front door is closed behind me.”

  “If you’re sure. I hope you discover something new for the mother’s sake. And her son’s, of course.”

  “So do I. Take care of yourself. Think about what I said about finding a local club to attend. It’ll do you good to get out of here now and again.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Sally left the house and looked across the road to find Jack standing on the doorstep of one of the houses opposite, talking to an elderly gentleman with a bright-red face who appeared to be blocking the way with his determined stance.

  Oops! Poor Jack! She moved on to the next witness and spoke briefly to the man at the house, Mr Goran. He remembered the incident but nothing much else around that time. Said he was going through a divorce back then and ended up drunk most nights. He slept through all the flashing lights and was shocked when he was filled in by the other neighbours the following day. Sally had asked the same question she’d asked Mrs Wootton, if he’d possibly seen anyone hanging around who looked suspicious. Mr Goran shrugged and told her he hadn’t. Then he wished her luck with the investigation and closed his front door. She crossed the road to join Jack.

  She waited at the gate, tapping her foot, until he’d finished speaking with the man. Jack said his farewells and joined her, rolling his eyes as he left the man’s garden. They strolled back to the car.

  “Waste of bloody time that was,” Jack grumbled, reaching for the door handle on his car.

  “I know, it was a necessity, though.”

  “If you say so. Did you get anything out of the resident living in the house you were in for ages?”

  “Not really. She was a nice lady. Told me everyone was devastated by the incident, shaken up by it all.”

  “Yeah, the two I spoke to said pretty much the same thing to me. Not very helpful. They’d hardly be dancing in the streets if news came out a child had been murdered, would they? Like I said before, it’s been another waste of time.”

  “All right, Jack, I can hear how unhappy you are. Let’s get back to the station, wind things down for the day, see what tomorrow brings, eh?”

  “Let’s face it, can’t be any worse, or as boring, as it’s been today. Ever regret your decision to take on these cold cases?”

  Sally knew he’d mention that at some point during the day, he always did. “You’re beginning to sound like a broken record, matey. We all knew how tough this was going to be—well, some of us more than others.”

  “Maybe I need something more challenging to deal with every day. Just saying…”

  Sally glanced out of the side window to watch the open countryside pass by, choosing to ignore his final comment. Once Jack was pissed off, there was no talking to him, that much she’d gathered over the years.

  They pulled into the station car park around twenty minutes later and trudged up the stairs on weary legs. She walked into the room to find the rest of the team beavering away but wearing the same fed-up expression Jack had plastered on his face.

  “I take it your day has been as uneventful as ours then?” Sally asked no one in particular.

  Joanna nodded. “We appear to be coming up blank on this one, boss. Every angle we try seems to be a dead end. I’ve looked through the records around that time, and there were no other intruder/murder cases going on and nothing within a twenty-mile radius since then either. I’m at a loss what to do next.”

  “Okay, I don’t want us getting down about this case. I realise how damn frustrating these investigations can be, this one in particular; however, I think we should persevere with it for at least a week longer. We still have to interview the main witness—Jack and I will be doing that tomorrow. Let’s call it a day for now. I’ll think things over this evening and come up with a plan in the morning, how’s that?”

  The team all agreed and shut down their computers for the night. Sally stayed behind after they’d all gone, to tidy her desk. On her way out, she jotted a few things down on the whiteboard. The names of the neighbours and briefly what they’d said, which didn’t amount to much. One name on the board drew her eye, that of Louie Pickrel. She closed her eyes and offered up a silent prayer that what he had to tell them would help to open this case up. She left the station not long after.

  She rang Simon. “Hi. I’m on my way home. Do you need me to call in to the supermarket for anything?”

  “Nope, dinner is all in hand. Hurry home, I miss you.”

  A smile pushed aside the scowl she’d been wearing for the past few hours. “I’ve missed you today, too. I’ll be fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll have a glass of wine waiting for you.”

  “You’re a saint.”

  She ended the call and relaxed into autopilot mode, Simon’s smiling face uppermost in her mind. He was standing on the front step waiting for her when she pulled into the large gravelled drive. This place still managed to take her breath away. His manor house, yes, she still thought of it as his home, even after living here for the past year or so.

  They shared a kiss, and he hooked an arm around her shoulder as they entered the house side by side through the huge front door.

  “It’s good to be home. How did the auction go today?”

  “Dinner won’t be long; your wine is waiting for you in the kitchen.”

  She shrugged off his arm and eyed him warily. “What’s going on? I know you well enough by now to know when something is afoot, Simon Bracknall.”

  “You’ll see for yourself in a moment. I need to check on the dinner.”

  She followed him into the vast kitchen and sat at the large oak table. They had their own regular spots, and sitting next to her glass of wine was a sheet of paper. “What’s this? Wow, don’t tell me you and Dad have bought this today?” She held the paper in her hand and stared at the stunning Georgian mansion. Flipping over the page, she saw that it had ten acres of land and a long, tree-lined drive leading up to the house. The place was simply stunning.

  “Nope, nothing to do with the business. You like?”

  She stared at him, her mouth gaping open for a second. “I’d have to be nuts to say no.”

  “Good. It’s our new home.”

  Her mouth dropped open again. She blinked half a dozen times as tears filled her eyes. He came towards her, his glass of wine in his hand, and gestured for her to raise her own glass.

  He clinked hers and repeated, “You like?”

  Sally gulped down half of her wine. “Are you kidding me? It’s absolutely beautiful. What’s not to like?”

  He sank into the chair next to her and exhaled a large breath. “Bloody hell, that’s a relief. I thought you’d be livid with me for choosing our new home without you.”

  “No way, buster. You have far more knowledge about these things, and better taste, I hasten to add. Why on earth would I be upset with you? You’re
such a numpty at times.”

  “Sorry, all this is new, you know, the relationship side of things. I’ve been pacing the kitchen for the past few hours, wondering if I’d done the right thing or not. The opportunity presented itself, and it was just too good to turn down.”

  “Does Dad know? He was there with you, yes?”

  “No, he doesn’t know. We bought a large house that we’re going to renovate into four flats. He was dealing with the paperwork on that one when this baby came up. I took a punt that you’d like it and, well, once I’d noted my interest in the property, I got carried away. Before I knew what had happened, the auctioneer was banging his gavel.”

  “Oh shit, that sounds ominous. Dare I ask how much you paid for it?”

  “It was a snip at nine hundred and fifty grand. Six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and an indoor swimming pool and gym. No excuse for either of us to put on weight with those as a constant reminder, eh?”

  “Oh my, seriously? You spent just shy of a million on a new home for us?”

  “We can afford it, don’t start panicking.”

  “I’m not. Crap, what about this place? You love this house, Simon.”

  “I know. But it’s time to move on. Have I done the wrong thing?”

  She reached for his hand. “No, you haven’t done the wrong thing, it’s just your generosity has floored me. As long as I spend the rest of my life with you, I’d happily live in a two-up, two-down.”

  He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. “Who are you trying to kid, Sally Bracknall?”

  Her new name still sounded funny even to her own ears. “All right, maybe I slightly misquoted myself there. You didn’t have to do this, though, Simon. We both love this place, we’d have been just as happy living here.”

  He shook his head and laughed.

  “Hey, what’s so funny?” she asked, frowning.

  He tapped the house details with his forefinger. “You haven’t even looked at the address, have you?”

  She picked up the sheet of paper, looked at it, and then stared at him, dumbstruck.

  He nodded. “It’s right next door to Lorne and Tony’s new place.”