Kim could hear both fear and hope in her voice. Maybe it was the fear to hope. She nodded at Bryant for him to continue.
‘Mrs Peters, we’re—’
‘Maggie, please,’ she said, quietly.
Bryant nodded. ‘We’re here because of certain incidents at Heathcrest. The name of your daughter came up,’ he explained. ‘We understand she was on a full scholarship at Heathcrest,’ he said, guiding her gently back into the past.
Shelly sat on the arm of Maggie’s chair and took her hand.
‘Yes, she was approached at a regional championship gala. She was so excited and so was I. Her father, God rest his soul, was not as keen. And neither was Lorraine after we visited.
‘We were shown around Heathcrest, and the more excited I got the quieter she became. Visiting the place had highlighted the possibilities for me but had brought home the reality of leaving all her friends and everything that was familiar for Lorraine.
‘Her father told her to make the right choice for herself and that we would be fine with whatever she wanted to do.’
‘And you?’ Bryant probed for the words she wanted to say.
Maggie shook her head. ‘It’s what I wanted to say. It’s what I should have said but I honestly thought that Heathcrest would be a fantastic opportunity for her. She would have access to better facilities, one-on-one coaching, focused training and a top-notch education to boot. I knew that with her talent and their expertise my girl would be swimming in the Olympics. And she would have been…’
‘Was she happy there?’ Bryant asked.
Maggie smiled. ‘I tried to convince myself that she was. She’d lost some of her sparkle, but I told myself that she’d be fine once she made some new friends. Her training was going well. She’d shaved almost three seconds off her personal best. Her coach was entering her into higher pressure meets to acclimatise her to the world of competitive swimming.’
‘So, what happened?’ Bryant asked.
‘She met a boy,’ Maggie said, simply. ‘Her attention moved from her training and also from her studies. She started missing sessions and questioning her coach.
‘I got a call asking if I’d speak to her. Attempt to refocus her attention. And I did so, earlier that day.’
‘The day she died?’ Bryant asked.
Maggie nodded. ‘That’s when she told me she was pregnant.’
‘And did she tell you who the father was?’ Bryant asked.
Kim held her breath. One name. All they needed was one name.
Maggie shook her head.
‘She said it was a secret but that he was as happy about the baby as she was and that they were meeting later that night to discuss their future.’
‘So, you’re saying that the father of the child definitely knew about the pregnancy?’ Kim asked.
‘Oh yes, officer. He definitely knew.’
Eighty-Seven
‘You do know you’re wasting your time?’ Dawson said across the desk. ‘Those numbers aren’t going to tell you anything.’
‘Found your smoking gun in the witness statements yet?’ Stacey retorted.
He grumbled something incomprehensible as he reached for the next.
Stacey was working her way through the printout the old-fashioned way, how she’d been taught at school. She placed a ruler on the printout and travelled down the page one row at a time. Numbers were beginning to merge together and dance across the page.
She sat back and rubbed her eyes for a minute.
‘You know, Stace, sometimes you gotta listen to experience…’
‘Yeah, yeah, Kev,’ she said, glancing back at the ruler lying idle across the page.
‘It may surprise you but just now and again I know what I’m talking about.’
‘Hmm,’ she said, looking at the last two records she’d checked.
She frowned.
‘Your time would be better spent putting that down and helping me read through these…’
‘Shush, Kev,’ she said sitting forward.
‘I swear to God, Stace. You’re as stubborn as…’
She moved the ruler back to the previous record and checked each individual number.
‘Kev, write this down…’ she said, no longer trusting her own number-weary eyes.
He huffed but picked up a pen.
‘… seven, one, three, three, six, two, nine, two, six, nine, one.’
‘Yep,’ he said.
She lowered the ruler and did the same again.
‘Now, write this down underneath: seven, one, three, three, six, two, nine, two, six, nine, one.’
He frowned at her. ‘Why have you just given me the same number twice?’
‘Kev, stop what you’re doing and tap into the Heathcrest website. I think I’ve finally got something.’
Eighty-Eight
‘I’m just not sure that means as much as you’d like it to,’ Bryant said, once they were back in the car.
‘Bryant, if the father of the child knew about the baby and was happy about it, why the hell didn’t he come forward and say something when both his girlfriend and baby died?’
‘Frightened, I’d imagine,’ Bryant said. ‘We’re talking kids. Lorraine was barely fifteen…’
‘And the fact she was meeting him that night doesn’t make you think the father of the child could be involved in her untimely accident, and if you say “they’re just kids” once more, I’ll punch you where the bruises won’t show.’
He stared silently out of the window.
‘Look, Bryant, I’ve tried to protect you from this fact but kids do bad shit too. Not as much as adults, admittedly, but we do have to consider the possibility that—’
‘Just not feeling it, guv,’ he said, tightly.
‘Bryant, did you retire and not bother to let me know? Cos right now your gut instinct is out shopping with your missus.’
‘There is the possibility the father of the child wasn’t a kid. Strange how the funding for the DNA ran out before they got round to testing the adults. Lorraine spent a lot of time with her coach. There were other teachers who could have taken advantage of a young girl out of her depth who was just trying to fit in. Sickening, guv, but we know it happens.’
Kim opened her mouth to concede the point, but the ring of her phone made her close it again.
Bryant returned his gaze to the window as Kim put her phone on to speaker.
‘Go ahead, Stace,’ she said.
‘Boss, I think we’ve got something interesting in this DNA list. I mean, it may be nothing but…’
‘Go on, Stace,’ Kim said. She’d learned to listen carefully to the constable’s nothings.
‘I was going through the DNA profiles of all the boys tested against Lorraine’s unborn baby, and one of the records was duplicated. Now, if your chief inspector is to be believed about who they tested, there should be seventy-seven records.’
‘And how many are there?’ Kim asked, frowning.
‘There are seventy-seven, just like he said,’ Stacey answered. ‘So, with the duplicated test taken into account, it looks like one boy got tested twice.’
Kim got it.
‘Which means that one boy wasn’t tested at all.’
Eighty-Nine
Kim watched as another expensive car passed them and eased to the front of the building to deliver another well-dressed couple bedecked in evening gowns, tuxedos, fur and jewels.
She couldn’t help wondering if the alteration from concert to memorial service had changed the outfit of choice for any of them. Kim guessed that the press pack at the gates was having a field day taking photos of the local society elite. With the precision of a military operation each car crept towards the entrance, where a line of smart boys waited to step forward and open the car door. Another appeared at the driver’s window and offered parking directions. The guests then walked the red carpet between ornamental decorative lights illuminating the path into the school.
How much of tonight’s event would be given to the death of two young children and one adult? How much had events been adapted to accommodate the inconvenience? She couldn’t help but wonder.