Lisa Ballantyne - Guilty One

‘Quite significant force.’

‘Would you imagine that the necessary force could have been produced by an eleven-year-old boy – particularly one of the defendant’s small stature?’

Dr Gault shifted in her seat. She glanced in Sebastian’s direction and Daniel noticed that Sebastian met her gaze.

‘No, I would have imagined that the necessary force was more consistent with an adult assailant … but having said that … Someone of smaller stature, or indeed a child, might have been able to inflict these injuries if the victim was below the assailant, allowing the force of gravity to compensate for lack of physical force.’

‘I see.’ Judge Baron nodded. ‘I see. Do you have any further questions, Miss Clarke?’

‘It is your expert medical opinion, Dr Gault, that a child would have difficulty in inflicting these injuries because of the weight of the murder weapon?’

‘The witness has been asked and has answered, Miss Clarke,’ said Baron. Irene sat down, a brief flush on her cheeks. ‘Mr Jones?’

‘If I may, my lord, a point of clarification … ’

Judge Baron fluttered his fingers in agreement. Irene shot a glance at Daniel.

Gordon Jones once more assumed the lectern. ‘Dr Gault, very briefly, if the fatal blow was delivered with the aid of gravity, would this be consistent with the position of the body when it was found – face up, hands by the side?’

‘… yes,’ said Dr Gault, with some hesitation. ‘Several positions might have been possible, but certainly if the victim had been somewhat stunned or afraid, it might have been possible to deliver the blow while he was on the ground, either from a standing position or sitting … astride, as it were. This would have been easier for a … weaker assailant.’

‘Thank you, Dr Gault.’

Daniel brought home several newspapers and flicked through each until he found reports from the trial. Several of the stories focused on his and Sebastian’s relationship: the boy huddled close to his solicitor. One wrote of Dr Gault’s evidence: ‘The Crown pathologist, Dr Jillian Gault, speculated that the Angel Killer may have sat astride his victim in order to wield sufficient force to bludgeon him to death, face to face.’

Daniel washed a hand across his eyes. The flat was dark, but he could not bear to turn on the lights. The kitchen table was covered in his work files. He stood at the window and watched the park in the vacillating moonlight. The lake turned like a penny in the changing light. He felt tired but it was a restless weariness and he knew he would not be able to sleep.

He noticed the answerphone flashing. Cunningham had left a message. The line was bad and Daniel could not hear every word: ‘Danny, hi, I got your message … The house is cleared and I have a buyer lined up. Young couple from the city, who’ve been looking for a smallholding like this for a while. I sent you an email. It’s a good offer, so give me a call and let me know if we can proceed to sale.’

Daniel exhaled. Automatically, he deleted the message. He wasn’t ready for this now. He needed time to prepare. He lay down fully clothed on the bed and stared at the ceiling, unblinking. He remembered going to Minnie’s house for the first time as a child. He remembered his tantrums and his rage. But after all that had happened between them and all that she had done for him, what he remembered most clearly were the last words that he had said to her face: I wish you were dead.

Now that she was dead, he wanted to say he was sorry. The trial of the boy only forced him to think about her more. The trial made him realise how close he had come to being in Sebastian’s position. She had hurt him, but she had saved him too.

He ran the palm of his hand across his chest, feeling the bones of his ribcage. He remembered Charlotte’s inappropriate advances at the back door of the cells. He was uncertain why he so pitied her. Daniel felt cheated on Sebastian’s behalf by Charlotte’s weakness and desperation, although the child showed her nothing but love.

He put a hand underneath his head. He could understand Sebastian’s passion for his mother. As a child he had been willing to die to protect his own. He remembered standing barefoot, in his pyjamas, between her and the boyfriend. He remembered feeling the slow, hot vein of the urine down his leg, and yet still being prepared to take what was coming, if it would save her.

After that he had been taken into care.

He thought of his mother: the marks on her arms and her mood swings, the unclean smell of her breath. He pitied her now, as he pitied Charlotte. His desperate, childish love for her had been eclipsed long ago. He had been a grown man before he realised the harm that she had done him.

Daniel sat up and ran a hand across his jaw. He changed out of his work clothes and then picked up the phone in the hall. He stood with the receiver in his hand, undecided, before dialling the number. It was Harriet’s husband who answered this time. Daniel stammered slightly, explaining who he was.

‘Oh, yes, of course,’ said the man, ‘I’ll just get her.’

Daniel stood with a palm pressed against the wall as he waited. There was the sound of the television in the background, and the older man clearing his throat. Daniel bit his lip.

‘Hello again.’ Her voice was tired. ‘Lovely, but I’m surprised to hear from you again so soon.’

‘I know, it was just something that you said the other day. I’ve been thinking about it. Do you have time right now?’

‘Of course, love, what is it?’

The sound of her voice reminded him of Minnie. He closed his eyes.

‘I spoke to Norman’s sister. She told me more about the crash … ’

Harriet said nothing, but he could hear her breathing.

‘It’s just that I don’t think I ever fully understood what Minnie went through, and now I do and … I was thinking about something that you said … ’

He could feel his heart beating. He paused to allow her to speak but still she remained silent. He wondered if he had angered her again.

‘What, love?’ she said finally. ‘What did I say?’

He took a deep breath. ‘About her torturing herself by taking in all the foster kids.’

‘I know, God love her.’

Daniel made a fist with his hand and punched it lightly into the wall. ‘Why me, do you think? Why did she adopt me, and none of the others?’

Harriet sighed.

‘Was it because I asked her to? Or … because I was scared of being sent away? Had she considered adopting any of the others?’

He waited for Harriet to speak but she did not. The silence lingered gravely, like the low note of a piano with the pedal pressed.

‘Don’t you know, pet?’ she said, finally. ‘She loved you like her own. You were special to her, so you were. I remember the first year you went to stay with her. She had a lot of trouble with you at first, I remember. You were a wild one. But she saw something inyou …

‘I mean, she wanted the best for you, of course. She would have given you up for your own good, like she gave up the others. She was on her own and she kept telling me how children needed families – brothers and sisters … a man around. I remember her trying to find a proper home for you, all the while desperate to have you stay.’

‘She was family enough for anyone … for me anyway.’

‘That day she adopted you, she called me after you were asleep. I hadn’t heard her so happy since before Delia died.’

Daniel cleared his throat. Harriet began to cough: a rasping cough so severe that she had to put down the phone for a second. Daniel waited.

‘Are you all right?’

‘I can’t shift this cough. Mother of God … But you have to know, Danny … She wanted nothing more than for you to be her son. You were so important to her.’