CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
‘What will happen to Sean?’ Tears coursed down Lizzie Slaithwaite’s cheeks, gathering on her chin and plinking onto the table. Julie still couldn’t decide whether she was a very good actress or whether she really wasn’t totally sane.
‘We don’t know yet what will happen to Sean. He is being looked after by social
services. As you are neither parent nor guardian, I’m afraid we are unable to tell you any more about his care.’
‘You bitch. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? I’ve looked after that child almost all of his life. That no-good mother of his
was always off her head on smack, coke, legal highs, whatever she could get her
grubby little hands on. She was no bloody use at all. She shouldn’t have been allowed to have a child in the first place.’
‘Was that what this was all about, Lizzie? You saw the boy living in what you
considered to be an unsuitable home and decided you would take him for
yourself?’ Julie stared hard at Lizzie, who was easily a match for her.
‘Those two were scum. They gave up any rights to him the day I found them both
crashed out in the garden, off their heads. Sean was inches from a lit
barbecue. They’d left him strapped in a high chair next to an open fire and then shot up with
God knows what. It was criminal negligence.’
‘And you couldn’t have children of your own?’ Julie took no pleasure in this question, but Lizzie had made no allowances.
‘Have you got children, Sergeant? Do you know what it’s like to try for months, years to get pregnant? There was no justice in it.
They had a gorgeous baby boy and half the time they didn’t even know he was there. And then there was me, watching the sparkle go out of
his eyes with the treatment they doled out.’
‘We know you lured James Pritchard, blackmailed him to look after the two of you,
or you would have told his wife you were having an affair. Did you think he
really was your father?’
‘Of course I did. Why would my mother lie to me?’
‘We only have your word for that of course. Although you did lie about your age
to Mr Pritchard, didn’t you?’ Julie ignored Lizzie’s smirk. ‘And a colleague of mine has been very thorough in his searches,’ Julie said.
‘I’m so pleased for him.’
‘He tells me that the is a mine of useful information.’ Lizzie’s smug smile faded, but she said nothing. Julie unfolded a sheet of A3 paper. ‘He’s found an edition dated 1998. This is a photocopy. It concerns the tragic death
of the entire crew of a fishing trawler, off the coast of Fleetwood. Among the
crew was a man called Eifion Jenkins.’
‘What do you want me to say?’ Lizzie was petulant now, rocking her chair to and fro.
‘Eifion Jenkins was your father, Lizzie.’
Lizzie shrugged. ‘You must be mistaken, Sergeant.’
‘But you persuaded James Pritchard that was your father. You made him buy you a property to hide out in, made him give
up his job to keep guard for you, when all the time you were pulling everyone’s strings.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You intended to take Sean abroad, didn’t you?’
Lizzie shrugged. ‘Did I?’
‘Had you got this all mapped out before you even contacted James Pritchard?’
Lizzie shrugged again and a slow smile crossed her face. ‘You don’t know anything, do you?’
‘And the map of Blackpool, with Rosa’s house circled. You put that in her bag, didn’t you? It was important that we found out who she was, so that we would know
Sean’s parents were dead. If anyone ever traced you, that is. Was that it? Was it
just a game?’
Lizzie said nothing, just held the sarcastic smile.
‘What about your husband? You left him without telling him where you were and
just disappeared into the Welsh countryside with a kidnapped child and no
intention of ever contacting him again.’ Swift was as disapproving as Julie had ever seen him.
‘John’s a nice man. He loves his work and he’s very good at it. But he didn’t understand.’ The smile was gone.
‘What didn’t he understand, Lizzie?’ Swift asked.
‘He didn’t understand me, Inspector. He didn’t even try.’
‘So you planned the escape to God knows where, and Sean’s kidnapping, then you decided to hook James Pritchard and persuade him to buy
you the house in Wales. What made you change your plans?’ Swift asked. ‘Why didn’t you just start a new life? Why did you need James Pritchard to help you? Why
did you need to dispose of Sean’s parents?’
‘I don’t think I want to talk to you any more, Inspector.’
Julie frowned. ‘You wrote to Rosa, telling her where you were living. I don’t believe she had ever asked you to take Sean away. No doubt her life was even
more of a misery after that, with Quigley taking the boy’s disappearance out on her. Did you not care about Rosa at all?’
Lizzie shrugged again. ‘They deserved each other. They were scum, the pair of them. People like that don’t deserve to have children.’
‘So did she ask you to take Sean?’ Swift’s voice had a hard edge. Julie could see he was beginning to lose patience with
this self-obsessed woman.
‘Would I lie to you, Inspector?’
‘And you contacted both Rosa and Quigley, telling them where you were and where
they could find the boy, giving them a date and a time.’
‘You can’t prove that.’
‘We may well be able to prove that very soon. So what happened when they turned
up on Mal’s land? Did you guide them to the exact spot? Did you cause an argument between
Rosa and Quigley? Did you think he would do your job for you, and murder Rosa?’ Swift asked.
Lizzie shrugged. ‘I can’t remember.’
‘He didn’t though, did he, Lizzie? He hit her, but that didn’t kill her. She managed to get herself to your cottage and once you’d dispatched Quigley with your florists’ garrotte, you completed the set piece by smashing Rosa’s head against the gatepost.’
‘It’s your word against mine, though, isn’t it? I’ve told you, it’s nothing to do with me. It’s James Pritchard you need to be talking to.’
‘That’s what you think, is it?’ Swift tugged his ear. ‘Then I think you’re forgetting that we have a witness.’ Swift gave the smallest of smiles. It looked almost sympathetic, but Julie knew
better.
‘Your cartoonist? He could have made the whole thing up.’
‘The game’s up, Lizzie. All that planning and deception. All those lives ruined and for
what? You’ll never see Sean again.’ Julie leaned back in her chair. Suddenly she felt the need to put as much
distance as possible between Lizzie and herself.
‘You’ll never prove it, any of it. I’m the victim here. And once you’ve worked that out, then Sean and I can go abroad and start a new life.’
‘I hate to disillusion you, Lizzie, but the CPS are confident that you are
definitely not the victim,’ Swift said.
Lizzie’s solicitor looked at Swift and then at Julie. ‘I think I’d like a word with my client now, if that’s all right.’