Sugar & Spice (32 page)

151

Bamford returned to the interview room. The twins looked up as she entered. She
switched on the smile.
“I’m back, girls. Everything okay?”
“When will Mummy be here?”
The pink cardigan. Tamara.
“Soon, Tamara. First there’s another lady who will be coming to talk to you
both.”
“I don’t want to talk to her. I want Mummy.”
“Me too.”
“After.”
“Why can’t Mummy be here now?”
“Natalie, your Mummy is very busy.”
“Is she at work?”
“Yes.”
Tamara eyed her with suspicion. “It’s light outside. Mummy only works at
night, when it’s dark.”
“Don’t answer back, Tamara.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes you are. Now stop it.”
“What about Daddy?” Natalie demanded. “Is Daddy coming?”
Bamford seized the opportunity. She took Natalie’s hand, crouching down to the
child’s level. “Do you miss your daddy?”
Natalie nodded.
“How about you, Tamara. Do you miss your daddy?”
Tamara stared at her like it was a stupid question. “When will he be
coming?”
“Later. I’ll bet he’ll want to give you a big hug and a kiss when he gets
here. Does daddy like hugging and kissing his little girls?”
Tamara and Natalie nodded in unison. “Sometimes he picks us both up at once
and hugs us until we can hardly breathe.”
Bamford’s smile dropped. “Does he hurt you?”
Tamara laughed. “No, silly. He’s only playing.”
Bamford forced the smile back, but couldn’t hide the brief glimmer of disatment.
“I bet he gives you big kisses, too.”
“He used to, but he doesn’t much now.”
Bamford make a mental note. “What about when you’re really naughty? Does he
smack you?”
The twins shook their heads as one. “Never, never, never. Daddy says it’s
wrong for people to hit other people. Especially children. Granddad smacked us
once and Daddy shouted at him really loud. Granddad never smacked us again.”
“But what about when you’re really naughty, Tamara? I mean, you can’t be good
girls all the time, surely?”
The twins exchanged mischievous grins. “We have to go to our room if we’re
really naughty, and stay there for ages and ages and ages and we’re not allowed
to watch DVDs or nothing!”
“I’m sure that doesn’t happen very often. What about bath-times? Who puts you
in the bath? Mummy or daddy?”
Natalie giggled. “We put ourselves in. We’re not babies.”
“What, all on your own?”
“Well, Mummy and Daddy help.”
“What, together?”
Tamara giggled now. “No, silly. They take turns. When Mummy is at work Daddy
baths us, and when Mummy is at home Mummy baths us.”
“So your daddy baths you when your mummy is at work? On his own?”
“Of course.”
“Don’t you mind?”
“Mind what?”
“Your daddy bathing you.”
“Why?”
“Does he help wash you?”
“Of course. We’re only six. We can’t do our hair properly. Only grown-ups can
do hair properly.”
“What about…You know, down there? Does daddy wash you there?”
Both girls shook their heads. “We do that bit ourselves. Daddy says we should
never let anyone touch us there.”
“Not even daddies?” Bamford could not disguise her disappointment. “Daddy
doesn’t touch you there? Ever?”
The girls looked at her as if she was stupid. Hadn’t they just said so?
Tamara turned back to the doll’s house. “Daddy says Father Christmas might
bring us a doll’s house if we’re really, really, really good.”
“We want a computer too,” added Natalie, “but Daddy says it isn’t fair to
ask Father Christmas for really expensive things because he has to buy presents
for all the children in the whole world, even the Eskimos, so he might not have
enough money.”
Bamford had no interest in their Christmas prospects. Spoilt brats.
“Girls, I have to go now and do some work, otherwise I’ll be in trouble with
my boss. We wouldn’t want that to happen, would we?”
The twins were too polite to say they couldn’t care less.
“You two stay here and play. When I come back I’ll bring that lady I told you
about. And after that I expect Mummy will be here to collect you.”
“And Daddy too?”
“Of course. He telephoned me just now to say he was coming. He said to tell
you to be very, very good and to tell the lady about everything you and your
daddy do together when your mummy is at work, even if you usually keep it a
secret. He said if you tell her lots of things then he’ll have a word with
Father Christmas about that computer you wanted.”

152

Bamford could hear the crying from the corridor.
She desperately rattled the keys in the lock, pushing the door open to see
Tamara with her arms around her wailing sister.
The child looked up accusingly as she entered.
“What’s happened? Is she hurt?”
A hint of panic.
She shouldn’t have left them alone so long.
Supposing someone else had found them…
There could be repercussions.
“Natalie wet herself. She couldn’t help it. The door wouldn’t open.” Tamara
was almost in tears herself. To her young mind it was the twins who were at
fault.
Bamford heaved a sigh of relief. She turned on the child.
“You dirty, dirty, dirty little girl. Couldn’t you wait? That is gross! I was
only gone five minutes.” She knewore than an hour.
Natalie cried louder. Tamara’s voice started to break as she defended her
sister. “We called for you but nobody comed. And for Mummy and Daddy. But
nobody comed. Nobody. She couldn’t help it.”
“I want my Mummy!”
Bamford looked horrified. She glanced at the clock. Simmons would be along any
minute.
She grabbed Natalie by the arm, yanking her to her feet.
“You, stay here,” she told Tamara. “I’m taking your disgusting brat of a
sister to get changed, and I don’t want a word out of you while I’m gone.
Understand?”
Tamara nodded, too frightened to speak, tears welling in her brown eyes. She
prayed for Mummy and Daddy to come as she watched Bamford drag Natalie away. She
crouched down next to the doll’s house, crying.
Minutes later Simmons appeared in the doorway. Tamara eyed her warily.
“Hello. You must be one of the twins. Why are you crying. You can stop that
right now.” She looked around. “Is Miss Bamford not here? Where’s your
sister?”
Tamara stared back at her. She had a softer voice than the other lady, but the
same cold eyes. Tamara decided she didn’t like her. She began sucking her thumb,
curling up into foetal position.
“I asked you a question.”
No response.
“Are you dumb? Take that stupid thumb out of your mouth for goodness sake.
You’ll make your teeth crooked.”
Tamara stared at her.
Simmons put on a friendly smile and softened her tone. “Are you Tamara or
Natalie?”
The little girl hesitated. It wasn’t as easy to be defiant on your own. The
words were whispered around the thumb.
“Tamara.”
“Tamara. That’s a lovely name. So your sister must be Natalie.”
Tamara nodded.
“Where’s Natalie now? With Miss Bamford?”
“Toilet.”
Simmons forced a bigger smile. She leant down and picked up Tamara, seating the
child next to herself on the sofa. “Come on, don’t be frightened. You’re safe
now.”
Tamara held herself rigid.
“Come on, sit comfortably. Oh, I’m sorry. You can sit, can’t you? Are you
sore?”
“I want Mummy.”
“Of course you do. You’ll see her later on, don’t worry. Where does it
hurt?”
Tamara looked bewildered.
“When Miss Bamford comes back with Natalie I need to ask you both some
questions, okay? It’s a little game. If you get the answers right you win some
sweeties. How does that sound?”
“I want Daddy.”
“Daddy? Big girls like you don’t need their daddies, do they?”
“Yes.”
“He’ll be here later. Now, are we going to play this game or not?”
“When is Natalie coming back?”
“Any second now. Miss Bamford is with her. She’ll look after her.”
“I don’t like her.”
“But she’s your sister.”
“No, the lady. I don’t like the lady. She’s mean.”
“Tamara, that’s not very…” Simmons considered further. “Well, actually
Miss Bamford isn’t that nice, Tamara, you’re right.” She leant in and
whispered conspiratorially. “I’ll tell you what. When Natalie comes back I’ll
ask Miss Bamford to go away, so it will just be you and your sister and me here.
What do you think?”
Tamara nodded. A hint of a smile.
“That way we can play the game and share all the sweets and that mean and
horrid Miss Bamford can stand out in the corridor all on her own.”
Tamara couldn’t help but smile at the prospect.
Simmons clasped her tiny hand. “Listen, I can hear someone coming.”
Tamara perked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and ran to hug her
sister, the wet dress exchanged for a pair of baggy jeans. Simmons motioned for
Bamford to stay out in the corridor, joining her and pulling the door closed.
“What happened?”
“Little cow pissed herself. I was only gone a few minutes. There was a phone
call. I came back and she was standing there pissing all over the floor. No
warning, nothing. Needs a good slap,that one.”
“Maybe she has a weak bladder.”
“Full, that’s for sure. I had to change everything, even her socks.”
“Did you get anything out of them?”
“Loads. Get this: The father baths them regularly. On his own, while the
mother is at work. I ask you. What type of mother would let a man bath a
child?”
Simmons nodded her complete agreement. Some women weren’t fit to be mothers.
“I didn’t press them on it,” Bamford said. “Left that for you. But it’s
obvious what he’s been up to. Even so, they talk of him quite affectionately,
given what he does to them.”
“At that age they probably think it’s normal. You’ll be watching, of
course?”
“Of course. Want to make it more interesting?”
“Try me.”
“A tenner says you can’t get a straight admission. Not the way these two cling
together.”
Simmons pushed the door open and looked at the girls, beaming a smile. She
winked at Tamara.
Tamara smiled back.
The bond was forged.
“Make it twenty.”

153

Isaac let out a low whistle. “And he asked for me personally?”
“By name.”
“I’m flattered. So what’s the score?”
“Initially, Social Services received intelligence that Randall was abusing his
two daughters.”
“Sexually?”
“What else?”
“It transpires Randall was undergoing some sort of treatment at a sex clinic.
For a paedophile interest in little girls.”
Isaac took the statement in his stride. “So no crime committed so far.”
“On the same day the Gilham child was murdered, Randall was in Woolwich.”
“That’s a pretty tenuous link, Sergeant. You can’t charge someone with murder
just for being in the same town, even if he is Uncle Tom. And so far you’ve said
nothing to suggest why he might be.”
Lovett grinned. He liked Isaac’s style. “Social Services have a temporary care
order on the two daughters. They’ll be examined later today and we’ll know
where we stand.”
“And that’s it?”
“Not quite. We recovered a hoard of little girls’ knickers at Randall’s
home.”
“Not his daughters’, I’m guessing.”
“Young girls’ undies, varying age groups, all under twelve. They may match
with Uncle Tom’s victims.”
“May?” Isaac seized on the point. “So they haven’t been identified yet? He
could just be a clothes-line thief.”
“Soiled underwear?”
Isaac caught his breath. He could feel the adrenaline rush. Had he bagged the
elephant? Was he about to represent Britain’s most wanted man?
“Still, there could be an innocent explanation.”
“He was unable, or unwilling, to provide one.”
“You’ve interviewed him already? Without a solicitor?”
“He was offered legal advice and declined. Only when we re-arrested him on
behalf of the Met, on suspicion of the murder of the Woolwich child, did he ask
for a solicitor.”
“This is on video?”
“Of course.”
“I’d like to review the recording before I speak to him. Did he say how he
knew of me?”
“He seemed to know all about you and Bristow. He demonstrates a familiarity
with the murders that goes way beyond what I’d regard as casual interest.”
“It’s had a lot of publicity. Everyone’s an armchair expert.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“How long since the latter arrest?”
“Less than an hour. We telephoned you immediately.”
“Unusual haste?”
“Mr Isaac, the Gilham child is a Met affair. We’ve nothing as yet to link
him to the Meadows child. Randall is unlikely to be with us long. We can only
keep him here for anything Social Services turn up. Then it’s out of our hands.
You understand what I’m saying?”
Isaac understood only too well. “I want a full medical before he’s moved. With
photos.”
“Already in hand. We don’t ant a repeat of Bristow any more than you do.”

154

Simmons sat on the sofa with a drawing pad and felt-tip crayons, sketching. She
rustled the paper a few time to attract their attention. Sure enough the twins
left their toys and came over to see what she was doing.
Natalie’s face lit up. “Mickey Mouse!”
Simmons glanced at the girl. Wearing jeans. The pisser. It must be Natalie.
“That’s right, Tamara. Well done.”
“Natalie giggled. “I’m not Tamara. I’m Natalie.”
“I’m Tamara,” said Tamara, joining her sister.
“Goodness, I’ll never remember which is which. I’ll tell you what. You stand
here, Natalie, on this side. Tamara, you stay where you are. Then I can write
your names here on the paper and I won’t mix you up.” She jotted down the
girls’ names.
The twins seemed delighted with the arrangement. Tamara edged onto the seat.
Natalie followed suit. Simmons knew she could rely on them to copy each other
here after. She cast a quick glance at the mirror and mentally began spending
the twenty pounds.
“Do you both like Mickey Mouse?”
“I do.”
“Me too.”
“How about Minnie Mouse?” She drew another mouse, identical to the first.
“There you are. Mickey and Minnie. What do you think?”
Natalie stared at the figures. “They both look the same.”
“They are the same,” said Tamara.
“Perhaps they’re twins, like you two.”
The girls laughed at the idea. “Mickey and Minnie aren’t twins. One’s a boy
and one’s a girl.”
Simmons let the technicality pass. “What’s the difference between a boy and a
girl?”
The twins exchanged superior glances and giggled. Didn’t she know?
Simmons adopted a confused expression. “What’s so funny about that? What’s the
difference between boys and girls? Tamara, you tell me.”
Tamara considered her answer carefully. “Boys are stronger?”
“Sometimes. Not always. Anything else?”
“Boys bully you at school.”
“Do they? Have you told your teacher?”
“Uh-uh.”
“You should always tell a teacher. Anything else? Any other differences?”
“Boys wear trousers.”
“Natalie’s wearing trousers. That must mean she’s a boy.”
“I’m not a boy!”
“How do you know? How can you tell?”
The girls giggled at one another.
“What’s so funny?”
“Natalie isn’t a boy. She hasn’t got a…” Tamara’s voice trailed.
“A what?”
“You know…” Tamara giggled. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “A
willy.”
“A willy? How on Earth do you girls know about things like that?”
More giggling. “Everyone knows.”
“All boys have willies,” Tamara declared.
“And grown-ups,” added Natalie. “Man grown-ups I mean.”
“What, even your daddy?”
The twins were giggling hysterically. “Of course he has.”
“Really?” Simmons let the drawing pad slip to the floor and leaned back,
putting an arm round each girl, securing the bond of conspiracy. She leant
forward to whisper the question.
“Have you seen it?”
The girls nodded.
Simmons cast a smug glance at the mirror.