Make Believe (2 page)

‘
Sammy Wray?’ she said aloud. 

‘
Could well be.  The size of the body is right,’ Trenton said, ‘the T-shirt.’

She glanced at Richard, his face set for a moment, then his eyes met hers, a look of trepidation and resignation.  This will be a hard one.  Child murders always were, grim and  heartbreaking.

‘Looks like a blow to the head,’ Trenton said, ‘impact to the back of the skull.’ 

‘
We’ll get the parents to ID him?’ said Janine.

‘
Too distressing,’ Trenton replied.  ‘The effects of the water, and animals.’  He cleared his throat.  ‘An appalling scenario for all concerned.’ He held up a video camera,  ‘Would you..?’ he invited.

Janine nodded. 

She watched the shaky footage.  The scene in the drainage tunnel lit garishly.  The camera panned up the sewer a couple of feet to reveal the bundle, a white sheet torn and stained, the mess that had once been a little boy.  She swallowed. 

‘
Pathologist on their way,’ Trenton said.

‘
Good,’ though there was no doubt in anybody’s mind that this was a suspicious death. 

‘
Who alerted us?’ Janine said.

‘
Flood reported by the neighbours at the other side.’ He gestured towards the adjoining house.  ‘The Palfreys.  They called the builders, thinking it might have something to do with them, a blockage or whatever.  Builder came out and called the utility company.  When the water guy goes down he finds the body.’

‘
The water’s gone down now,’ Richard said.

‘
Yes, flash flood apparently, old drains, they’re too narrow to cope with the run off and we’d several inches of rainfall in the early hours.’

‘
We’ll speak to the parents.  Fast track the DNA,’ Janine said.  I don’t want them waiting a minute longer.’

They set off
immediately.  She was eager to reach the Wrays before they heard any whisper of the morning’s discovery.  On the way, she alerted Lisa, one of her detective constables, asked her to start setting up an incident room and to call in the rest of the team.  Then she spoke briefly to the officer who had been co-ordinating the missing child operation, informed him of the discovery and  got an overview of their investigation to date. 

The Wrays’ house, a well appointed Edwardian terrace, stood on Foley Road, a stone’s throw away from Withington Park where Sammy Wray had last been seen and about half a mile from the Kendal Avenue crime scene.

At
the front door Janine took a moment, bracing herself for what was to come.  Richard waited, then gave a rueful smile, cocked his head.  Ready?
 
Janine nodded and he knocked on the door, three loud raps.

Claire
Wray opened the door, her husband Clive close behind her and at his side a woman who was acting as their family liaison officer, Sue Quinn.

‘
Mr and Mrs Wray, I’m DCI Janine Lewis.’

Claire
’s eyes darted between Janine and Richard as if searching for something but Janine could tell Claire knew, even before she spoke, fear quaking in her voice.  ‘You’ve found him?’ She knew.  After all it had been nine days, nine days waiting for this knock at the door, expecting redemption at first, living on crazy hope and air, then nerves shattered and sleep deprived, craving any news, anything at all. 

Claire
sought the answer in Janine’s expression, in the silence, and understood.  Her face crumpled.

‘
Can we come inside?’ Janine said gently.

The house
was stylish, clean lines and natural materials, wood floors, a slate hearth.  Framed landscape photographs hung on the walls, some child’s drawings too.  Clive was a graphic designer, ran a small firm.  Claire did French translation for an import company. 

Janine watched
Claire clutch at a small navy blue fleece on the arm of the sofa and hug it to herself as she sat down.  Sammy’s, Janine assumed.  Totem.  Security blanket.

Clive hovered,
coiled, tense. 

Janine told
them what she had to.  ‘I am so sorry.  I’m here to tell you that we’ve recovered a boy’s body matching Sammy’s description.’

‘
Get out,’ Clive Wray yelled.  A normal reaction, Janine had come across it often before, shooting the messenger.

Claire
bent double, crying out, ‘God, no.  No.’

‘
Get out,’ Clive wheeled around.

Janine
continued calmly, ‘It’s terrible news, I know.’

Claire
was sobbing, howling really. 

Janine exchange
d glances with Richard, some mutual support in a harrowing situation.  After a few moments she indicated he should pick up the thread.

‘
Until we have the DNA result, to confirm identity,’ Richard said, ‘we will not be releasing Sammy’s name.’

‘
Why can’t we identify him?’ Clive said.

‘
I’m afraid there is extensive damage to the body,’ Richard said.

‘
Oh, God,’ Claire looked up, her face blotchy with tears.  ‘Where did you find him?  Where was he?’

It was important to be honest but sometimes it just felt like pouring salt into the wounds, thought Janine. 
‘The victim was found in a drainage tunnel, at a property in Withington.’

Claire
whimpered and Clive turned away from them.

Sue came in b
ringing a tray of tea.  She placed it on the coffee table and then stood at the back of the room, unobtrusively.

‘
Sue will carry on as your family liaison officer and she’ll remain with you,’ Janine said.  ‘I’m now going to be leading the investigation and DI Mayne will be working with me.’

Clive Wray passe
d Claire a drink but her hand was shaking too badly to take hold of it. 

‘
I know you’ve already made statements to the missing person’s inquiry but as circumstances have changed we need to look at everything again.  Can we do that now?  Or we can take a break and come back later,’ Janine said.

‘
Now,’ Claire Wray said.

‘
Claire?’  Clive looked at her, obviously concerned for her emotional state.

‘
Now,’ Claire said again, steel in her voice.  Was it just determination or was some of that metal directed at her husband?  The loss of a child often tore relationships apart.  Was that already happening for the Wrays?

Janine
nodded her agreement and opened her briefcase, got out her daybook to record notes.  Clive sat down beside his wife on the sofa.

‘
Can you describe for me what Sammy was wearing on the Saturday he went missing?’ Janine said.

‘
His navy trousers, a dinosaur T-shirt.  Red shoes.’  She looked at Janine, a flicker of hope, as if Janine would suddenly tell her those didn’t fit with what they had found.  Janine didn’t evade that look but she answered it with one of regret. 

‘
You went to the park,’ Richard prompted her.

‘
About quarter to one.  He loves the slide.  One minute he was—’ she faltered.  ‘I only turned round for a minute and he was gone.’

‘
Then you raised the alarm,’ Richard said.

Claire
said, ‘Yes.  I looked round the park, I ran back here.  There was no sign and I called the police.’

Richard
turned to Clive, ‘And you arrived home—?’

‘
At four.  The police were here, I couldn’t … you never imagine …’ he said as if re-living the shock of it.  Then the reality of the new nightmare hit him.  ‘Oh, God.’

‘
You’d been walking?’ said Janine.

‘
Up Kinder Scout, Hayfield,’ Clive said.

‘On your own?’

‘Yes.’

‘Can you think of anyone who could verify that?’
Janine said.

There was a horrible silence and Clive Wray stared at her as he recognised the implication behind the question.

‘It would help us eliminate you from the inquiry,’ she said, ‘ I realise that may seem insensitive but it is routine procedure.  If you can think of anybody—’

‘No,’ he said quickly
, ‘it was pretty quiet.  I passed a few other walkers but they were strangers.  I’ve no idea how you’d contact them.’

Claire
started crying again.  Clive Wray made a move to comfort her, his arm reaching out but she froze at his touch, shrank away and he let his arm fall. 

Leaving the Wrays, as Janine was putting her case in the back of the car she found one of Charlotte’s shoes there, and some crayons.  For a giddy moment Janine imagined Charlotte lost, missing, hurt. 
There but for the …
  No point in dwelling on it.  Janine’s job now was to use all her professional skill and that of her team to find out who killed Sammy Wray.  And her integrity, her dedication was all she could offer the Wrays.  Empathy yes but not sentimentality.

‘
Odd atmosphere, didn’t you think?  Lot of tension,’ said Janine.

‘
What d’you expect?’ Richard said.

‘
Not directed at us, though; with each other,’ she said. 

‘Could have been having problems before this,’ Richard said.  ‘Don’t they reckon
having a child stresses a relationship?’

Sure does.
  Janine knew how the business of sharing the care of children was fertile ground for spats and resentment between her and Pete both before and after the separation.  That old chestnut of both people working full-time but the woman also doing the bulk of the parenting and the housework.  Did Claire still work full-time now they had Sammy?  Maybe she was a stay-at-home mum.  All the family background would be in the files from the missing person case.  She’d have to get up to speed on it to brief her team.

‘Maybe she blames Clive for not being there,’ Richard said.

‘Or he blames Claire for losing Sammy,’ Richard said. 

‘
Yes,’ she said.  Janine’s stomach flipped over as she remembered one time when she had lost Tom.  She had taken the kids to the Trafford centre.  It was BT (before Tina as she thought of it) and BC (before Charlotte). Eleanor had helped herself to some sparkly crayons in the stationery shop, which Janine only realised once they had moved on to the gaming place.  Michael was absorbed in playing the games and Janine told Tom to stay with his big brother while she took Eleanor to give back the stolen goods.

On their return, with
Eleanor bawling, Janine found Michael, slack jawed and glazed eyes, trying a shoot-em-up game, and no sign of Tom.

Janine
’s blood had turned to ice.  Tom was found, none the worse for wear, after the security staff were alerted and announcements made.  He’d gone looking for candy floss.

Pete
never blamed her, not for that, but she blamed herself.  Pete’s blame centred on how much her job impacted on her time at home.  But Janine loved her job, just as she loved her kids, and refused to let Pete guilt trip her about it.  She could do that all by herself on a bad day, thank you very much.

While the incident room was being set up, Janine familiarised herself with the files on Sammy Wray.  She passed eyewitness statements from the park to her sergeants, Shap and Butchers, to read and asked Richard to liaise with the crime scene manager and the CSIs for any information emerging from the scene.  Then Janine attended the post mortem. 

There was an understandable path
os to the sight of such a small figure on the table.

‘
No trousers, no shoes,’ Janine observed as the pathologist’s assistant photographed the child first wrapped in the torn sheet, then with the sheet removed in a  T-shirt and underpants.

‘No, no socks either
,’ the pathologist said.

All sorts of debris had clung to the sheet and the exposed parts of the victim from the filthy sewer water. 

Janine waited patiently while more photographs were taken and notes made of the external appearance of the child.  X-rays were taken too before the internal examination began.  Janine was there for confirmation of the cause of death and she soon got her answer.  A substantial fracture to the back of the skull had killed the child. 

‘
It’s over a wide area, so we’re looking at impact with a large item,’ the pathologist said.

‘
A brick?’ Janine asked, thinking of where the body was found, the building materials to hand.

‘
Don’t think so, no linear edge and no brick dust in the scalp which I’d expect.  I’ve seen injuries like this before with falls or where a child’s been swung against the wall.’