thought? ‘They’ll go away as soon as they realize we’re not giving them anything. Or until they get cold or tired or hungry, or all three.’ She half drew the curtain.
‘How’s Aunty Sasha?’
It was her turn to shrug. ‘You know, coping.’
‘Badly?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. I’ve just got to support her through this.’
‘We will, Mum. We will.’
Alex looked at her little boy. Taller than her with wisps of facial hair and that deep voice. ‘Thank you, sweetheart.’ She resisted the urge to lean over and kiss his cheek.
‘So are you going to do anything about her?’
‘Her?’
‘Jackie Wood?’
‘I—’ No. She wasn’t going to tell him. ‘Look, there’s nothing we can do. She’ll be whisked to some safe house somewhere until the furore’s died down and then she might change her identity and find somewhere new to live. The best thing we can do is to help Sasha through this.’
‘Mum?’
‘Yes?’
‘What can you remember about that day?’
Alex drew him back into her arms and hugged him close to her, resting her chin on the top of his head. ‘Oh, love, it’s difficult to describe.’
‘Try. Please.’
She closed her eyes. ‘I remember the police coming round, making lots of notes. Everyone going to look for them. Not finding them.’
‘They were taken from our garden, weren’t they?’
A spear of pain lanced Alex and the guilt threatened to overwhelm her. ‘Yes. Yes they were.’
She was responsible.
6
Kate shoved the pills to the back of the bathroom cupboard and closed the door. Her head was pounding; the picture on the health centre’s telly of Jackie Wood on the steps of the High Court, smiling, going round and round in her head. The smug lawyer. The sentence quashed. A murderer’s accomplice set free.
She thought back to when the judge had sentenced Wood and Jessop to life imprisonment for the murders of Harry and Millie Clements, and how she’d felt as though she could breathe again. Although she’d been the one to find Harry’s little body all squashed up in the suitcase, abandoned behind a bin in a shitty lay-by as if he was just a piece of rubbish, she hadn’t had anything more to do with the investigation, apart from celebrating in the pub when they arrested Wood and Jessop.
She’d had her day in court, of course, when she stood in the witness box and told the judge exactly what had happened the morning she had found the little boy, reliving it in her head as she kept her voice even and unemotional. She’d glared across at the pair of them in the dock; wanted them to look her in the eye so she could stare them down. But they didn’t give her the satisfaction; just kept examining their hands, Wood occasionally dabbing at her eyes with a white handkerchief edged with blue. Funny how she could remember the little things. And then she’d been in the public gallery when the professor of dirt and stones or whatever he was delivered his damning evidence. The unusual type of soil and gravel found in the corridor of the flats in Sole Bay matched that found inside the suitcase that had contained the body – that was the gist of it, and the jury bought it, every single damning word. So did they all, to be fair.
And now, fifteen years on, the great professor had been discredited. The evidence he had given in another trial had been called into question five years previously. After that, the convictions tumbled, and it was only a matter of time before the Jessop–Wood trial was scrutinized. And yes, the evidence was called into question. Unsafe conviction. The gravel and soil could have come from several places in Sole Bay. So Wood was now out in the community.
Kate found herself obsessed with Wood. She didn’t believe for one moment that Jessop and Wood were not guilty, and she knew her colleagues would be of a like mind. There was no question of it being opened as a cold case, and it wouldn’t be too long before the force would trot out the line: