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ambulance, a paramedic attended, who asked for a doctor; he pronounced the child dead and passed the buck to us.
    â€˜The call came into the station just as the inspector was about to go out on another case, and he told me to take it. He thought it must be a hoax call because a clown was mentioned, and someone at the back of the room asked if the clown had big ears, which made him, er, rather cross. I wasn’t laughing, honest, but he caught my eye and said I’d be the best person to deal with it.’
    The DC’s tone was limpid, but Ellie understood the subtext. Ms Milburn’s boss bore the nickname of ‘Ears’ because his stuck out and turned red when he was upset about anything. Ellie had referred to him as the man with the red ears when she first met him and this unfortunate nickname had stuck – much to his fury and everyone else’s secret amusement.
    â€˜I never meant to cause him distress,’ said Ellie. ‘I ought to feel sorry for him, I suppose, and I do try to.’
    â€˜Of course,’ said Ms Milburn, smoothing away a smile. She knew, and Ellie knew, that Ears disliked Ellie. Of course, he didn’t seem to like anyone very much, and he certainly didn’t care for his DC, who was considerably brighter than him and a woman, as well. So yes; it would have amused him to send her out on a hoax call.
    Only, it had turned out to be far from a hoax.
    â€˜I got there within fifteen minutes. The doctor was just leaving, and the parents were in the process of taking the other children away. It was lunchtime, you see; the day was warm, the children tired and fractious. Everyone was in shock. It wasn’t surprising that they wanted to take their children away.
    â€˜The play centre people were excellent. They’d had the morning from hell, as a toddler had fallen off a swing and hurt himself earlier. It was entirely his own fault, nothing sinister, but everyone was concerned, naturally. You know how much noise a frightened child can make, especially when there’s a bump on the head or a cut finger? So all the helpers and some of the adults had been involved, looking after the toddler, arranging for the young mother to take him to hospital to be checked out.
    â€˜It was all written up in the Incident Book and everyone was relaxing when the clown arrived shouting, “Roll up, Roll up! Birthday treat!” and passing out biscuits and balloons to all and sundry. Before anyone could ask who’d sent him, all the children had clustered around to be given a biscuit or a balloon, or both. Abigail not only took one—’
    â€˜Didn’t the child know better than to eat anything offered her by a stranger?’
    â€˜She’d been warned, of course. The au pair – who was in floods of tears when I saw her – said so. The play centre people knew of her allergy as well. The Hoopers insisted that everyone knew. They referred to the child as their little angel, the light of their lives, etcetera.’
    â€˜The parents were at the play centre at the time?’
    â€˜No. I interviewed them later, back at their house. The au pair had taken the child to the park. According to the au pair, Abigail was a monster with a shocking temper who, when crossed, could throw a tantrum and make herself sick with crying. Earlier that day the au pair had refused to buy her a bag of crisps and the child had been furious. So angry, in fact, that she’d thrown one of her famous strops and the au pair had threatened to take her straight home without visiting the park. It was unfortunate that she didn’t.
    â€˜Abigail not only ate her own biscuit but snatched one from another child and ran off to eat it out of sight of the au pair. She died before anyone realized anything was wrong, by which time the clown had long since disappeared.
    â€˜I called to the station for backup, which was rather slow in coming. I mean, you can understand that they thought