Tuesday's Child (2 page)

Vianne nodded. “You did. I’m named after mummy. She was Ophelié.”

“Well, Vianne, the good news is I can make Amelia Jane better, but you’ll have to leave her here for a few days.” Adeline ran a finger down the form and did a double take. “Child abuse?”

“I told you. Uncle Nate broke her.”

“How did he break her? Did he drop her?”

“No. He said I was too big to play with dolls and put her on top of the wardrobe. I climbed on a chair to get her down, only it was a swivel chair and we fell. She broke, and I hurt my knee and my hand.” Tears filled Vianne’s eyes again. “It really hurts.”

“Let me check you over, as well. Sit up here with Amelia Jane for a moment.” Adeline lifted Vianne onto the couch next to the doll.

Now that Vianne knew the doll would be all right, the pain from her own injuries took over.

“Let’s have a look. I can be pretty good at fixing bumps and scrapes on people as well.”

Vianne pulled up her pant legs, and Adeline checked her over.

“It just needs a plaster and you’ll be fine. But a fall isn’t child abuse. That’s deliberately hurting a child. And neither he nor you did that. This was an accident. So how about we change the form to reflect that?”

A thoughtful expression crossed Vianne’s face and she nodded slowly. “All right. A big fall. Can you make Amelia Jane better with a plaster, too?”

Adeline reached for the first aid kit. “I wish I could, but Amelia Jane hurt herself badly when she fell. She’ll need surgery on her arm, head, and finger. So I reckon four days before you can take her home.”

“Will she have a bed?”

Adeline opened the box of plasters and offered them to Vianne to choose one. “Of course. And you can come and visit in the afternoons between two and four, except Sunday. We have a selection of books and comics you can read to her.”

“Cool. Can you look at her eyes, too? Her left one won’t open anymore. Uncle Nate says she’s blind ‘cause she’s so old. She used to be mummy’s once.”

“Sure I can have a look. It won’t take long.” Adeline changed the details and added eyes to the clipboard, impressed how Vianne always looked at her as she spoke. That was something most adults tended to forget mid-conversation.

Vianne handed her a bright pink dolphin plaster. “This one.”

“Great choice.” Adeline fixed it on her knee and jumped her down off the couch. “There you go, all done. Now, you can pick an empty bed for Amelia Jane and put her in it. This card goes in the slot at the end of the bed.”

Vianne took the doll and card, and headed across the room. She fussed over the doll as she settled her into the bed and tucked her in.

“Shall I give mummy or daddy a ring to come pick you up?”

“I live with Uncle Nate. He’s working until five. It’s an inset day—”

“An insect day?”

Vianne laughed, her whole face lighting up. “No, an inset day. It’s where the teachers have lessons, and we have a day off. I was supposed to go to Mrs. Sullivan. She lives next door, but Sophie has the measles, and I haven’t had them. So Mrs. Sullivan wouldn’t let me in. She said I needed to stay away so I didn’t get sick, too. I don’t like being sick cause it means I have to stay in bed for days and days and days.”

Adeline forced a smile as a shiver ran down her spine. That was exactly how she’d lost her hearing. Complications from a high fever she’d contracted with the measles. “I see. Does Uncle Nate know Sophie’s sick?”

Vianne shook her head and chewed on a nail. “Nope, he left for work as I knocked on the door. Mrs. Sullivan gave me the spare key so I could get back in the house. I was on my own all day. Even made my own lunch—a jam, marmite and cheese sandwich, crisps, and fizzy pop. I left the back door unlocked so I can get back in.”

“Jam, cheese and marmite? Not all together, surely?”

Vianne grinned and nodded. “It’s yummy. Not as nice as peanut butter, though.”

Adeline wrinkled her nose. “Peanut butter is disgusting. But you’re clever to make your own lunch. How old are you?”

“Ten and a half.”

She couldn’t let the child leave on her own. Who knew what would happen, especially with the serial killer at large? No one was safe. A small child alone would be easy prey.

“You’re not really old enough be on your own, and I can’t let you back out in this weather. Let me ring Uncle Nate and see what he wants to do.”

“I’ll be fine at home. He finishes soon, anyway.”

She tilted her head. “Actually Uncle Nate will be in big trouble if anyone finds out you were home on your own.”

Vianne’s face fell. “Oh. I don’t want to get him in trouble.”

“If it’s all right with him, perhaps you can stay here and help man the front desk.” She glanced up and saw Susie sitting in her chair now. “I’ve got a stack of coloring sheets if you’re interested.”

Vianne nodded. “If Uncle Nate says it’s OK. What’s your dog called?”

“His name is Benjamin, but I call him Ben.” She smiled as Ben’s ears pricked up at the mention of his name.

“Benjamin? That’s a funny name. But Ben suits him.”

“I think so, too. How do I get hold of Uncle Nate?”

“He’s a policeman.” Vianne shoved her hand into her pocket and pulled out a small card. “Here’s his number.”

Adeline smiled, picked up the phone and started to dial.

A small hand touched her arm. “You’re deaf. How do you use the phone?”

“It’s a special one. You just watch.”

****

Detective Sergeant Nate Holmes swung his chair back on two legs and glared at the file in his hand. He flicked it closed and then looked over at his partner, DS Dane Philips. “I hate paper trails. Especially this one.” He tossed the file onto his desk and picked up another one. “It doesn’t matter which way I look at it, or how long and hard I pray about it, it’s going nowhere fast. If we had time it wouldn’t matter, but we don’t. Every second he’s still out there, women are at risk.”

Dane peered at him over thick-rimmed reading glasses. “Tell me about it. The victims don’t even have the same eye or hair color. Nor are they in the same age bracket—this guy isn’t choosy. Once we find the link then maybe we’ll get a lead on him.”

“The press is calling him the Herbalist. As the name of every road he’s struck in is named after an herb. He may not be striking in alphabetical order, but so far we’ve had Parsley, Ragwort, and Onion.”

“Herbalist. I guess it’s as good a name as any. It also fits with the plants left on the bodies. It’s interesting he picks the same ones as the road names. He obviously has a strange sense of humor. Either that or he’s sending a weird message.”

Nate laughed as Dane scrawled
‘Herbalist’
over the front of the file. He snatched up the phone as it rang. “DS Holmes.”

“Sgt. Holmes, my name is Adeline Monroe. I run the doll hospital on the High Street.”

The voice was muffled, and Nate struggled to place the accent. He shook his head at the coffee mug Dane waved at him. He put a hand over the phone. “No, thanks, I drink anymore today and I’ll drown.” He lifted his hand again. “How can I help you, Miss Monroe?”

“I have Vianne here with me. She came in on her own about forty minutes ago.”

The chair slammed back onto all four legs, Nate’s attitude changing. His heart pounded. He’d left Vianne with Mrs. Sullivan. What was she doing out on her own? He glanced at the window at the storm raging outside. “Is she all right? She’s not hurt, is she?”

“She has a small scrape on her knee, which I patched up. Other than that she’s fine. Amelia Jane, on the other hand, needs a little more fixing up.”

A tight sigh escaped him as he pinched the bridge of his nose tightly.
That wretched doll. How’d she find it?
He didn’t need this today. “Have Mrs. Sullivan pick her up—I can give you her number…”

“Apparently Sophie has the measles. Vianne’s been home alone all day.”

How much worse could the day get? “Great. All right I’ll come get her as soon as I can arrange cover here.” Nate tossed the file to the desk.

“I’m more than happy for her to stay here until you finish work. She can sit in main reception and color.”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not.”

“All right, thank you. I’ll be there as soon after five as I can.” He flung the receiver down and pushed a hand through his hair. “That’s all I need.”

“What’s up?” Dane looked at him.

“Sophie’s sick, so Vianne has evidently been home alone all day. She somehow managed to get that wretched doll off the top of the wardrobe and broke it. She took it to the doll hospital on the High Street.”

“I know it well, mate. That’s where Jasmine works.”

“Then you’ll know the owner, Adeline Monroe?”

Dane nodded. “We’ve been friends with Adeline for years. She’s deaf, but never let it hold her back.”

Nate looked at the phone. “Deaf? I just spoke with her on the phone.”

Dane laughed. “She has a phone that goes through an operator. She talks, you reply, and she gets what you said as a text message. It’s a really clever system.”

“I’m sure.”

“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

“I just did, didn’t I?”

A cough from the door drew Nate’s attention towards it. His boss, Detective Inspector Vanessa Welsh, stood there, short dark hair framing her face and piercing blue eyes clouded with grief—something he’d seen all too often in recent days. A sharp stab hit him hard in the stomach.
Not again.

“Guv?”

“Nate, you and Dane need to get over to Tamarisk Crescent. Body of a young girl in her late teens has been found.”

“On our way.” Nate stood, sending his chair flying backwards. Reigning in his grief and anger, he sent up a prayer for the latest victim and her family. He grabbed his coat and shrugged into it. “We need to catch this creep, Dane.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. I was hoping that you being a church elder meant you had some pull with the Bloke upstairs. You know, maybe He’d give you some hints as to who this guy is.”

“I wish. I have prayed so hard about this. Even asked Pastor Jack to pray about it.” Their footsteps echoed on the stairs as they ran down. “Guess He is waiting for me to do some of the leg-work first.” Nate pulled his collar up against the rain. “So what’s she like?”

“What’s who like?”

“This deaf lady I’m trusting to look after my niece.”

“Adeline is blonde, blue eyes, lovely girl…not slim by any stretch of the imagination, but who wants a slim woman anyway? And best of all, she goes to Headley Baptist.”

“She does?”

Dane unlocked the car and slid into the driver’s seat of the pool car allocated to them. “She sits downstairs with her hearing dog, Ben. He’s a gorgeous black and white King Charles spaniel.”

Nate slammed the door and fastened his seat belt. “Hmmm. You’ll be telling me next she’s single.”

“She is, actually. Maybe we can get the two of you together—”

“Forget it. I’m not interested in a relationship. I keep telling you that. I just wanted to make sure she hasn’t got a record.”

Dane started the car, flipping on lights and wiper blades. “She doesn’t. And I’ll keep trying. Not all women are like your sister-in-law.”

“Pete died because of Ophelié. Because of me. If I hadn’t told him where she was, he’d never have gone to France. They wouldn’t have been on the plane when it crashed.”

“It was an accident.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree there. Are we going, or what?”

“We’re going.”

****

Just before five thirty, Ben tapped Adeline’s ankle with his paw.

“What’s up?” She watched him run to the office door, and got to her feet. That meant there was someone out there she needed to see. She followed him into main reception.

A tall man with light brown, spiky hair stood there, his arms wrapped around Vianne as he lifted her off the floor in a bear hug. His blue eyes filled with sorrow as he looked the child over, making sure she really was all right. One hand held her tightly, the other patted the hat she still wore.

Adeline angled herself so she could read both sets of lips.

“Hey, pumpkin.”

“Are you cross with me, Uncle Nate?”

“Well…”

“I’ve been really good. I couldn’t go to Sophie’s house because she’s sick. I made lunch and put the things in the washdisher afterwards. And I didn’t use the oven because you said not to if you weren’t there.”

“Dishwasher,” Nate corrected.

“Dishwasher,” Vianne repeated. “This is Dr. Adeline. She’s fixing Amelia Jane and this is Ben. He’s her special hearing dog.”

Nate put Vianne down and held out a hand to Adeline. “DS Holmes. Pleased to meet you, Miss Monroe. I’m sorry I’m later than I originally said. Something cropped up in the case I’m working.”

Adeline shook his hand. His cool grip was firm, and she watched his gaze size her up. He was gorgeous. His full lips moved almost in slow motion, and she wondered for a moment what it would be like to feel them on hers.

I’ve read way too many romance novels in which many of the heroines have a size eight figure with hardly a flaw in sight. In the old days, women over thirty were like me, spinsters, chunky and a size sixteen. Top heavy and pear shaped. How can I compete with that? Kind of hard to like the way I look with all the supermodels in the papers and magazines.

She dragged her thoughts back to the man in front of her and the reason he was here. Collecting his niece. “And you, Sergeant. And please don’t worry about the time. You have an important job.” Somehow she managed to get her voice to work.

“Thank you for looking after Vianne. I’m sorry if she was a bother.”

“She was as good as gold. Not a bother at all.”

Nate turned and looked at Vianne and spoke quickly, his face angled so Adeline couldn’t see what he said.

Vianne scowled at him and stomped over to a chair by the door.

Nate faced Adeline again. “How much do I owe you for the doll?”

“I’ll do you an invoice. We open the ward for the children to visit between two and four every afternoon bar Sunday.” She shuffled the papers on the reception desk. “I could have the invoice ready for you by tomorrow, once I’ve had a proper look at the doll. I’ll ring when she can go home. It should be around three to four days, to allow the glue time to set and for the paint to dry properly.”