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‘Oh, I think we can stop pretending these children fell,’ said Rushton.

53

‘IT CAN’T BE HAYLEY,’ SAID EVI, SPEAKING IN A LOW VOICE, even though the two of them were alone in a corner of the hospital’s main reception. ‘Her remains were found.’

‘No,’ said Harry, still uncomfortably hot in his black shirt and jacket and tight clerical collar. ‘According to Gillian, there was no trace…’

‘Yes, I know what she’s told you. She said the same to me. But she was lying. Oh shit, this is so inappropriate.’ Evi sat back in her chair and ran a hand over her face. ‘I really shouldn’t be talking about this,’ she said.

Harry sighed. ‘Isn’t there some exception to the rule, whereby if you believe someone’s life is at risk, you can break confidentiality?’ he asked.

‘Well, yes, but even so…’

Harry put a hand on the arm of Evi’s wheelchair. ‘Evi, I’ve just seen three dead infants, all of whom died in a very similar manner, two of whom should never have been in the grave in the first place. I really don’t think normal rules apply any more.’

Evi looked down at the floor for a second, then seemed to make up her mind.

‘I went to see the firemen who were on duty when Gillian’s house caught fire,’ she replied, without looking up. ‘They found Hayley’s remains the next day. Just ashes and bone fragments, very similar to what you’d have left after a cremation, but definitely human remains. The bones were examined.’

Harry felt as if she’d just hit him in the stomach. ‘Well, if that’s the case, I was wrong,’ he said. ‘The good Dr Clarke’s going to love me.’ They would all love him. ‘I was sure I’d heard Gillian talk about what Hayley was wearing that last night,’ he went on. ‘And after Jenny told me it was handmade by her sister, well, there didn’t seem any doubt.’

Evi looked as worried as he felt. ‘Gillian must have been mistaken,’ she said. ‘Severe trauma can play tricks with people’s memories. Maybe she gave the pyjamas to someone else and forgot. If they’re unique, they’ll still help identify the body.’

‘Maybe,’ agreed Harry. ‘The trouble is, the cat’s out of the bag now. The police will have to talk to her. I’m not sure how she’ll cope with it.’

‘I can go up now,’ said Evi. ‘I’ve cleared all my appointments for today.’

Harry heard footsteps approaching. When he looked up, Rushton was standing in the doorway. ‘We’re ready to go and see Mrs Royle now, Reverend,’ he said. ‘Are you fit?’

‘Of course,’ said Harry. He stood and turned to Evi. The back of her chair had two handles, one on either side of her shoulders. ‘May I?’ he offered.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ she snapped. ‘Let’s go.’

54

GILLIAN SEEMED TO SWAY IN THE DOORFRAME AS HER EYES fixed on Harry’s. ‘You didn’t tell me you were coming this morning,’ she said, before shooting a sly glance at Evi.

‘Gillian, this is Detective Chief Superintendent Rushton,’ Harry said. ‘I’m afraid we need to talk to you. Is it OK if we come in?’

Gillian’s eyes opened a little wider, then she turned and walked back up the stairs towards her flat. Harry allowed Evi to go up next and then followed. Rushton brought up the rear.

The flat seemed to have been tidied since the previous day. Harry hoped it hadn’t been for his benefit.

‘What’s going on at the church?’ Gillian asked, as they all entered the small living room. ‘There’ve been police cars there all morning.’

Through the window behind Gillian, Harry could see the main road winding its way up the hill towards the church. The rain of the previous night had left a thin mist behind. The edges of the buildings that lined the road seemed to be fading, as though rubbed out by an eraser.

‘That’s partly why we’re here,’ said Harry. ‘Something happened at the church last night.’ He turned to Rushton. ‘Detective Chief Superintendent, do you mind if I…?’

‘No, please go ahead,’ replied Rushton, sinking into an armchair.

Harry waited for both Gillian and Evi to sit. Evi took the other armchair, Gillian sat in the middle of the sofa. Harry dropped down until he was half sitting, half leaning beside her. ‘Gillian, something’s happened which might cause you some distress,’ he began. ‘That’s why I asked Dr Oliver to come.’ Gillian’s eyes drifted to Evi, as if only just noticing that she’d followed them up, then moved back to Harry.

‘Do you remember telling me about the night your old house caught fire?’ asked Harry. ‘About the night Hayley was killed?’

Gillian said nothing, just nodded once, her eyes not leaving Harry’s face. He began to wonder if she’d started drinking again. There was something not quite… ‘Do you remember the pyjamas she was wearing?’ he continued.

At that Gillian drew herself up. Her eyes flickered into focus and she glanced from Harry to Rushton. ‘What’s happened?’ she asked. She was starting to look frightened.

‘Mrs Royle,’ said Rushton, leaning forward. In the small room, they all seemed uncomfortably close to each other. ‘Early this morning we found the remains of a small child wearing pyjamas very similar to the pair you described to Reverend Laycock. Is there any possibility you were mistaken about what your daughter was wearing?’

‘You found her?’ Gillian had pushed herself forward on the sofa, was on the verge of leaping up.

‘A child was found,’ said Harry, putting his hand gently on Gillian’s arm. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see both Evi and Rushton getting ready to stand up. ‘But we don’t see how it could possibly be Hayley.’

‘I knew it.’ Her fingers were clutching his hand. ‘I knew she hadn’t burned. Where was she? What happened to her?’

‘Mrs Royle.’ Rushton’s voice was loud enough to silence Gillian for a second. ‘I’ve seen the report of the chief fire officer who attended the blaze at your house. According to that, your daughter’s remains were found. They were released into your possession shortly after the fire.’

‘No,’ snapped Gillian, glaring at Rushton.

‘No?’ repeated Harry.

Gillian’s head spun back to face him. ‘What they gave me wasn’t Hayley. I know it wasn’t.’ She turned to glare at Rushton again. ‘They were trying to palm me off with a handful of ashes. I know she got out of the house. Stop looking at each other like I’m mad, I know what I’m talking about.’

‘Gillian, what happened to the ashes that the firemen gave you?’ asked Evi. ‘What did you do with them?’

Gillian stood up so quickly Harry almost overbalanced. He watched her cross the room and disappear into the kitchen. A cupboard door was opened and objects moved around. He turned to Evi, who gave a little half-shrug. Then Gillian was back, carrying a metal jar in both hands. It looked like – it looked like what it was – an urn. Harry got to his feet.

Gillian crossed the room and stopped at the small coffee table that sat in the middle of the carpet. She dropped to her knees and swept one hand across the top. A magazine and her purse fell to the floor.

‘Gillian, no!’ called Evi, a fraction of a second before Harry realized what the girl was about to do.

‘Oh, dear me,’ muttered Rushton, pushing himself to his feet.

Gillian had removed the lid of the urn and upended it. The ashes were pouring out, creating a small cloud above the table. Harry could hear hard objects falling on to the wood. Something grey, about two inches long, fell on to the carpet near his feet.

‘This is not Hayley!’ yelled Gillian. ‘I would know.’

Evi was next to Gillian on the carpet. One arm was around the younger woman’s shoulders, the other had taken hold of Gillian’s hand, was trying to hold it back, stop her from hurling the ashes around the room.