Priscilla Masters - Frozen Charlotte

He needed some anchor.

‘Well perhaps a family friend or a solicitor?’

Alice was silent for a while, frowning, thinking. Then her face cleared. ‘Both,’ she said, with a bright, social smile. ‘Let’s kill two birds with one stone.’ Then, equally unpredictably, she burst into tears. Talith straightened up, shot Roberts a despairing look and waited for the sobs to subside.

‘Acantha,’ she finally supplied. Roberts and Talith exchanged looks. Was that a name?

Alice Sedgewick finishing her crying with one last, wracking heave of her shoulders and explained. ‘Mrs Palk. She’s both family friend and a solicitor too. You can ring her if you like.’

I do like, Talith thought. Hope she can make some sense out of this. Then: ‘Do you have her number?’

Alice nodded and gave it out.

Roberts dialled the Shrewsbury number right then, using his mobile and breaking hospital rules. It was now after one in the morning. He didn’t expect much of a welcome and was not disappointed. The phone rang for a while before a male voice, both sleepy and angry, barked, ‘Yes?’

PC Roberts explained who he was and why he had rung and without another word the phone went dead while he heard an urgent, whispered conversation. Then another voice came on the line.

‘Hello?’ A calm, intelligent, sane voice. One which would take control. Thank goodness for that.

‘I’m PC Roberts from the Shrewsbury police.’

‘Yes?’

‘I’m speaking from the Royal Shrewsbury Hospital. We have a friend of yours here, a Mrs Sedgewick, in some rather strange circumstances.’

‘Alice? Is she hurt? Has she had an accident?’

‘No. She isn’t hurt but she’s in a bit of difficulty and we’re going to need to interview her down at the station. She has requested that you be present both as a solicitor and a friend.’

There was a moment’s silence than Mrs Palk said slowly, ‘What sort of difficulty, Constable Roberts?’

She’d made a note of his rank and name. Gethin Roberts swallowed. ‘I’d rather not say,’ he said. ‘It’s better we speak face to face.’

There was another moment’s silence before Mrs Palk said, ‘OK. I’ll be down at the station in twenty minutes. Monkmoor?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ll see you there then.’

‘Thank you. I’m sure Mrs Sedgewick will appreciate it.’

Too late. The phone had been put down.

Roberts returned to the room with his news. ‘She’ll meet us at the station in twenty minutes,’ he said. Mrs Sedgewick looked up, grateful.

‘Shall we go then?’

They had also anticipated that Mrs Sedgewick might react to her removal from what Roberts had termed her ‘sanctuary’ but she seemed almost to have forgotten about it. She didn’t twitch or turn her head as they left the department but thanked the waiting doctor almost as if she was on some social visit to the place. It was as though she was on autopilot and her polite, well-mannered self had taken over. Talith and Roberts felt distinctly uncomfortable.

The journey took less than fifteen minutes at that time of night. There were a few stray roisterers about but the night was too cold to loiter so the town was largely quiet and deserted. The Welsh bridge had been closed since the explosion less than a week ago. They turned into the Harlescott Road then took a right, soon reaching Monkmoor Police Station.

They ushered Mrs Sedgewick into an interview room and asked her again, ‘Are you sure you don’t want us to contact your husband? He might be worried about you.’

It provoked the same violently negative response as before. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Please.’

Paul Talith felt even more concerned. This response was unbalanced. Too vehement. He glanced at his watch and wished the solicitor would hurry up and arrive.

A couple more minutes ticked away. Talith tried again. ‘Son? Daughter?’

This time even more violent shaking of the head. Talith gave up and waited in silence for the solicitor to arrive.

At twenty five to two a.m. Acantha Palk made an appearance. She was a big woman – impressive – almost six feet tall and of mixed parentage at a guess. She had black frizzy hair which she had attempted to control with a hair clip, skin an attractively dark shade of olive and expressive big black eyes and was wearing an orange kaftan underneath a long black woollen coat. Alice seemed to come to life as her friend entered the room. She stood up. ‘Thank you for coming,’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry to get you…’

The big woman enveloped her in a bear hug. ‘Alice,’ she scolded, ‘what have you been up to? Too many gins behind the wheel?’

Alice simply shook her head.

Roberts and Talith exchanged glances.

Acantha Palk immediately took command. ‘If you wouldn’t mind,’ she said in a deep, booming voice, ‘I’d like to speak to Mrs Sedgewick alone for a few minutes.’

They would have loved to be flies on the wall. What story was Mrs Sedgewick telling her friend?

After about fifteen minutes the door opened and Ms Palk met their eyes.

‘A strange business,’ she commented.

It was that.

‘Mrs Sedgewick is very tired and upset,’ she continued without waiting for a comment. ‘I’d appreciate it if you kept your questions to a minimum for now. She’s not going to walk out on you or disappear. I’ll vouch for her.’

Talith spoke up. ‘All we want to know,’ he said heavily, ‘is how come she walked into the Accident and Emergency department holding what looked like the body of an infant that had been dead for years. Where’s it come from? We don’t know yet how the infant died, whether of natural causes or…’ He left it to the woman to fill in the gaps. ‘We’ll have to wait for the post-mortem so we don’t know how serious an offence has been committed. All we want is a little bit of enlightenment.’

‘True. I understand.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m not sure…’

I’ll bet you’re not, both Talith and Roberts thought.

Alice seemed calmer as they re-entered the room, sat down and switched on the recorder. They checked her name and details.

‘At some time last night you entered the Accident and Emergency department of the Royal Shrewsbury Hospital carrying something. Can you tell us what you were carrying?’

Alice gave a strange smile. ‘It was Poppy,’ she said clearly.

Ms Palk looked both startled and confused.

‘Who is Poppy?’ Talith asked.

Alice Sedgewick’s eyes dropped to the floor. ‘I’d rather not say,’ she whispered, ‘at least, not at the moment.’

‘Why did you take her to the hospital?’

‘Because she was ill.’

The two policemen and solicitor exchanged surprised glances. If they hadn’t seen the body for themselves it would have been a sane and logical answer. But…

‘And you thought one of the doctors or nurses would see her?’

‘Yes.’

‘But the nurses tell me that you didn’t register your arrival.’

‘I don’t really know how the system works,’ she confessed. ‘I thought they seemed so busy that they’d get around to me eventually and they did.’ Again it was a credible response.

Acantha Palk lifted her shoulders in a gesture of confusion.

Alice spoke again. ‘I didn’t think there was any hurry. She was so quiet, you see.’

Indeed.

Mrs Palk spoke up. ‘Is there any point in continuing this interview? My client is obviously not well.’

Talith stood up. ‘Can I have a quick word – outside?’

She nodded.

They closed the door behind them.

‘Has Mrs Sedgewick any record of mental disturbance?’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘She’s never been depressed?’

‘Again – no. Not that I know of.’