Priscilla Masters - Frozen Charlotte

Talith thought for a moment then said, ‘I just don’t see how they can possibly fit in,’ he said. ‘They don’t fit the profile at all.’

‘And what is the profile?’

‘I don’t know.’ Talith frowned. ‘Some ignorant young girl, I suppose. I mean from what you said Petula Godfrey’s streetwise. She’s the sort who’d have an abortion in her lunch break and get back to work in the afternoon without giving a backward glance. That’s the sort of woman she is, sir.’

Alex said nothing but remained silent and thoughtful.

The phone call couldn’t have been better timed. Delia Shaw rang just as Alex switched his phone on at the luggage carousel at Malaga airport. Randall listened then gave out some more instructions.

Chez Godfrey looked just as opulent this time around as it had a fortnight ago but this time Alex Randall thought it looked a bit tacky. Talith was well impressed though. He whistled through his teeth as they approached the tall gates. ‘Must be worth a packet,’ he observed, ‘especially over here.’

Petula was distinctly on edge to see them for the second time. Wearing skintight jeans, spiky heels and a pink sweater she met them at the foot of the stairs and gave Alex a hard, hostile stare. ‘I don’t know why you’ve come back,’ she said. ‘You’re wastin’ your bloody time. I would have thought you would have realized you’ll get no help from us. We don’t know nothin’ about no dead baby.’

‘I think you do,’ Alex said steadily, ‘and that’s why we’ve come back.’

Petula Godfrey wobbled on the steps and clutched at the handrail but she had lost none of her fighting spirit. ‘You better watch what you’re sayin’,’ she said. ‘My husband has an evil ’abit of takin’ people to court if he thinks they’re spreadin’ rumours.’

‘It’s only rumours if it isn’t the truth,’ Alex said mildly. ‘You may not like it, but the truth is the truth, isn’t it?’

Vince Godfrey was standing in the doorway, his face thunderous. He must have been a very scary guy in the school playground, Talith thought, as they reached him.

‘What’s goin’ on here,’ Godfrey said, bunching up his fists, ready for a sparring match. ‘Why have you come troublin’ us innocent people?’

‘I simply want some answers,’ Alex said, deliberately low key.

‘What kind of answers? How can we answer stuff we don’t know nothin’ about? It’s so obvious, plod,’

Godfrey continued. ‘This ain’t somethin’ we know anythin’ about.’ He gave a heavy, theatrical sigh.

‘Just answer my questions.’

‘Well keep it clean then. Don’t go makin’ wild accusations unless you can prove them.’ Vince couldn’t resist tacking on a threat: ‘Or you’ll regret it.’

This time Randall and Talith were shown into a more formal sitting room, carpeted and plush with two large red sofas facing each other.

The Godfreys sat very close together on one, the two police officers a little less close on the other.

‘Graciela,’ Petula screamed. The maid scuttled in.

Randall took a good look. It was more obvious on this visit.

Petula rapped out some orders to the maid who scuttled back across the passageway. ‘Right, fire away,’ Vince Godfrey said, ‘and as I said, watch what you’re sayin’.’

Alex reflected that litigation had made policing twenty times more difficult.

‘Now what’s all this about?’ Godfrey was suddenly urbane.

‘Children,’ Alex said without preamble or explanation. ‘It’s about children.’

‘We haven’t got any,’ Vince replied truculently.

‘Why not?’ Alex asked mildly.

‘’Cos we don’t bloody well want ’em.’ It was Petula who had supplied the answer. She leaned forward, lit a cigarette and blinked.

‘You don’t want them or you don’t have them?’

‘We don’t want them.’

The maid came in, carrying a tray of cups and saucers, a big round teapot.

‘And yet,’ Alex said heavily, ‘you went to great trouble and expense in a clinic to have multiple courses of IVF which failed and also other procedures, I believe.’ He did not look at either of the Godfreys.

Vince Godfrey was quick off the mark. ‘Where do you get your information from?’

Alex didn’t answer.

Petula pinned him with a stare.

Graciela poured out the tea, her face wooden and impassive.

Alex drew in a deep sigh. ‘From 1994 to 2001 you underwent extensive investigations and procedures because you badly wanted a family,’ he said. ‘But the treatments were unsuccessful and in the end the doctors advised you to consider adoption which can take a long time.’

Vince Godfrey cleared his throat noisily.

‘Shall I continue?’

Petula Godfrey was watching his face, mesmerized, as she lifted the teacup to her lips.

‘How am I doing?’

The question remained unanswered so Alex continued, ‘In 2002 in response to an advertisement you placed on the Internet a young lady from Poland came to live with you. Her name is Celestyna Zawadzki. She was seventeen years old.’ Alex kept his eyes on Petula Godfrey. She had gone chalk-white. In contrast her husband, he noticed with interest, had gone a deep, dusky red.

‘The reason that you couldn’t have children was to do with your wife, wasn’t it? You were OK. You’d been told that.’ Randall made an inspired guess. ‘You have a child from another relationship, don’t you?’

Without looking at his wife Vince gave a heavy nod.

Randall continued. ‘So you impregnated Celestyna Zawadzki; she bore your child. You were to pay her money.’

Vince had almost shrunk into his chair.

‘The trouble was that you were worried the authorities would home in on you, accuse you of coercion and so you neglected to take Celestyna to antenatal clinics or for any medical check-ups at all. But even there you struck lucky, didn’t you? You’d kept on Maisie Stokes who had nursed the old Mrs Isaac and Maisie Stokes had worked for a few years as a midwife. For a small consideration she was perfectly happy to supervise Celestyna’s antenatal care and perform the delivery. Celestyna was an ignorant girl. As far as she was concerned she was getting Rolls Royce treatment.’ He looked at Petula. ‘One of my WPCs has taken a statement from Maisie Stokes this very day, Mrs Godfrey. There isn’t any point you denying it. We knew someone like that had to be the mother of that little boy. What we didn’t understand was that there was also exploitation of the most wicked and callous kind.’

‘I don’t…’ Vince started and stopped abruptly, seeing the disgust on the detective’s face.

‘You kept Celestyna a virtual prisoner at your house and when she went into labour you gave her no medical attention. Unfortunately for you – and for her finances – the baby was not perfect.’ He gave Petula a quick glance. ‘I can’t see you pushing a Silver Cross pram around with the baby inside who had a harelip.’ He gave her a straight stare. ‘And so the baby died, didn’t it?’

‘I’m sayin’ nothin’,’ Vince said.

Graciela scuttled in with a second pot of tea. Alex gave her a sharp scrutiny.

‘Now you were left in a dilemma, weren’t you? You had a dead baby, a boy whom you just wanted to get rid of and still no child of your own. And of course Petula likes to get her own way. She still wanted a baby. So you sent Celestyna Zawadzki back to Poland, telling her she hadn’t fulfilled her end of the bargain. You paid her fare and you hid the body of the baby upstairs, in the loft.’

Vince and Petula watched, frozen.

‘And then,’ Alex said, ‘you came to Spain.’

He rang Martha from the airport. ‘We got the name of the girl from Maisie Stokes,’ he said. ‘Celestyna Zawadzki. But all she could tell us was that she was from Poland. Tracking Celestyna down might be a little more difficult.’ He chuckled. ‘This is turning into an international affair,’ he said. ‘I just might get a trip to Poland out of it too.’