All at once she was blurting it out in one long flood of words, crying at the same time. They were gentle with her: Roper even took her hand and patted it, telling her that she was doing just fine, while the younger man made her tea.
After Fifi had drunk it, Roper went back over what she’d told them, getting her to explain how and why she went into the Muckles’ house in the first place. His voice was calm and soothing as he asked her questions, and Wallis took notes.
As Fifi told them about seeing the Muckles leaving at nine that morning, and what she’d overheard, the noise level from the street was growing. She could identify some of the voices, sharp and questioning, perhaps wanting to know why the police were in with Fifi.
‘I shouldn’t have gone in there. I should have called you,’ Fifi said, breaking down again. ‘I wish to God I’d never seen it.’
‘But we couldn’t have gone in there straight away without any evidence of a crime,’ Roper said evenly. ‘What you did was perhaps foolhardy, but none the less brave. You have at least prevented the little girl’s death being concealed.’
‘What would he have done with her body?’ Fifi asked, then shuddered at the possibilities that brought into her mind.
Fifi knew the moment Dan turned into the street as the voices outside grew louder still and she heard people running down the road.
‘Do they know what’s happened?’ Fifi asked fearfully. ‘If that’s my husband they are running to, what will they tell him?’
‘They know that Angela Muckle is dead and they’ve probably guessed that you found her,’ Roper said. He looked hot, running his finger around the collar of his shirt as if he longed to unbutton it. ‘We won’t be telling anyone anything else, and we have to ask that you don’t discuss anything that you saw with anyone, as it might prejudice our investigation.’
Even beneath the grime from the building site, Dan looked pale and apprehensive as he came up the stairs. Fifi ran into his arms crying and he held her tightly, looking at the two police officers for an explanation.
Roper told him the gist of it, then said they would have to leave now to continue with their investigation. ‘Obviously your wife will need to talk to you about it,’ he said, looking sternly at Dan. ‘But I have to ask that you keep it between yourselves. Until we have made an arrest, and all the evidence has been examined, it is imperative that no one else knows the details your wife has given us.’
‘How did Angela die?’ Dan asked, his voice rasping with emotion.
‘We can’t be absolutely certain until the pathologist has examined her. But it appears to be asphyxiation.’
‘The bastard,’ Dan spat out. ‘I should have ripped his throat out the last time he hurt her.’
‘Don’t, Dan,’ Fifi implored him, knowing he was now going to blame himself for not going to the police then. ‘We couldn’t have known it would come to this.’
‘He might have been doing a runner this morning!’ Dan said, his dark eyes wide with horror.
‘We don’t think so,’ Roper said firmly. ‘It’s like a tip over there, but it doesn’t appear to have been abandoned. Don’t you worry, we’ll get him. We’ll have officers everywhere around here waiting for him to come home. Now, Mrs Reynolds, we’ll need to take a formal statement from you soon,’ he went on to say. ‘Not tomorrow, you need to calm yourself first. Monday morning will do, if you wouldn’t mind coming down to the station at about ten.’ He looked at Dan then, who was still holding Fifi tightly. ‘I think you should call the doctor to your wife. She’s had a terrible shock.’
A terrible shock! That was how anyone would describe it, yet it didn’t come even close to describing what had happened to Fifi. Deep down inside her she had expected to find something nasty in number 11. But what she had found was way beyond any horror she was capable of imagining.
After the police had gone, she wanted to talk to Dan about what she’d seen, but she couldn’t. The bare bones of it she could manage, but she couldn’t convey the gut-wrenching disgust she’d felt, or even come close to describing the evil she’d seen, smelled and felt. The policemen understood, she’d seen it in their faces, but they’d been there, seen it, and Dan hadn’t.
He didn’t know what to say to her. He kept clutching her to him, rubbing her back as she cried, kissing her face, even apologizing for not knowing what to say.
‘I don’t know what to say either,’ she cried, clinging to him.
He washed and changed his clothes, then made them both a cup of tea and sat down with her on his lap, but his eyes constantly strayed to the window. There were five police cars in the road now and the area along the front of number 11 was cordoned off. As the police searched the house, more and more people were arriving in the street to look, and the noise they made wafted up to Dan and Fifi and engulfed them both.
They heard Frank arrive back, and voices shrill with an ugly kind of excitement telling him what had happened. Soon afterwards Miss Diamond came home too, and it was all repeated.
‘They are all feeding on it,’ Fifi whispered. ‘Like sharks coming in for the kill. A little girl is dead, and they can’t even be quiet and show a little respect.’
Both Frank and Miss Diamond at least came in quickly. Dan and Fifi could hear their muffled voices down in the hall.
‘I don’t want to see them,’ Fifi said in panic, knowing they were probably discussing whether they should come up to her or not.
‘I’ll go,’ Dan said, lifting her up in his arms. He put her back in the chair and ruffled her hair affectionately. ‘I’ll ring the doctor while I’m at it.’
‘I don’t need a doctor, only you,’ Fifi said, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. ‘What can he do but give me something to sleep?’
‘Maybe that’s what you need,’ Dan said, looking very anxious.
Fifi shook her head. ‘No, I want to be awake when they get back.’
Dan slipped down to Frank and Miss Diamond. He spoke in a low voice and although Fifi could not hear what anyone was saying, she sensed the tone of sympathy in both Frank and Miss Diamond’s replies.
Dan came back with a brandy bottle. ‘Frank said you’re to have some of this,’ he said. ‘Miss Diamond has gone in with him, they’re both shaky and stunned and neither of them wants to be alone.’
Fifi had never liked the taste of brandy, but she drank it anyway, grateful for the way it soothed the jitters inside her. Dan made himself a sandwich but found he couldn’t eat it. He stood at the window looking down at the people in the street and a tear rolled down his cheek.
‘I should never have brought you here,’ he said after a few moments of silence. ‘In fact I should have disappeared after that day I went to tea at your house. I’ve brought you nothing but misery.’
‘That’s not true,’ Fifi retorted. ‘I’ve had more happiness since I met you than I had in my whole life before. What happened over there is nothing to do with us, Dan. If I hadn’t been such a busybody someone else would’ve found her.’
‘I wish it hadn’t been you,’ he said, looking round at her. ‘I’m afraid of what it will do to you.’
They sat in silence by the window, watching as daylight gradually faded. It was a beautiful sunset, the sky turning red, with shades of purple through to mauve and pink.
They didn’t turn on any lights, just stayed rooted in their chairs holding hands. As it became dark they could see into the Muckles’ house, for all the lights were on there. Figures flitted from room to room, presumably conducting a thorough search. A little later they saw bright flashes in the top window, perhaps from a camera, and a man who could have been a police doctor, as he had a kind of medical bag, left and drove away. An ambulance arrived, two men went into the house and emerged only minutes later carrying a covered stretcher. Two policemen positioned outside the house spoke harshly to the onlookers who had come closer to look, and they melted back as if ashamed of themselves.
One by one the lights at number 11 were turned off. The two police a
t the door ordered people off the street, and they walked away too.
To all intents and purposes, it looked as if the house was now deserted. But there had been at least a dozen men inside it earlier, and less than half had left. Fifi felt for those left inside that stinking house of hell. Two of them slipped out and went down to the coal yard, presumably to lie in wait for Alfie in case he tried to escape that way. She had to assume there were more police positioned up by the shop and pub, and in the road behind Dale Street.
Every one of Fifi’s muscles grew tauter as if she were preparing to run a race as the clock slowly moved on past ten o’clock. Dan was the same, leaning forward in his chair, eyes fixed on the corner shop.
There was no one left out in the street now, but Fifi was very aware that almost everyone was watching and waiting as they were, for windows that were usually brightly lit were in darkness.
A tripping sound of footsteps made Fifi lean forward.
‘It’s Yvette,’ Dan whispered. ‘I’d forgotten about her! Has she been out all day? If so, she won’t know what’s going on.’
Fifi had told the police Yvette had been out when she knocked earlier, but she hadn’t given her a thought since. She whispered this to Dan, and added that Mr and Mrs Balstrode, who lived above her, would soon fill her in with the news.
‘Poor woman, she looks so weary,’ Dan said.
He was right, Fifi thought. Yvette looked as if she was finding it hard to put one foot in front of the other. ‘She must have been finishing off the wedding outfit she was working on in her client’s home,’ Fifi said. ‘She never stays out after dark normally because she’s so nervous.’
‘Living next door to the Muckles must be more dangerous than being out in the dark,’ Dan said grimly. ‘I wonder if she heard anything this morning?’
They watched Yvette go in through the front door. She switched on her light and they saw her illuminated in the window for a couple of moments while she drew the curtains.
Ten minutes later, just as Fifi’s attention was beginning to waver because of the brandy she’d drunk, Dan gripped her knee.
‘They’re coming,’ he hissed.
Fifi was immediately tense again. She got up to see better, and sure enough there were the Muckles coming down the road, both Alfie and Molly wearing some kind of seaside hat. They were arm-in-arm, perhaps drunk, the three children trailing behind them and Dora and Mike, carrying the bags, bringing up the rear.
Seeing Alfie walking down the street apparently without a care in the world, when she knew he’d raped and killed his youngest daughter just that morning, was too much for Fifi. If Dan hadn’t suddenly grabbed her, perhaps realizing what she might do, she would have run down the stairs, out on to the street and attacked him.
‘No, sweetheart,’ he whispered, holding her tightly. ‘He’ll hang for what he’s done, and the police will give him the kicking of his life before that. Just watch him get captured, with me.’
‘Bloody quiet tonight,’ they heard Alfie say to Molly. ‘Reckon we ought to liven things up, girl.’
Molly cackled with laughter, and the sound was an even bigger affront to Fifi’s senses.
She held her breath as the Muckles approached their front door. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the officer down by the coal yard come out of the shadows, and at the same time a police car turned into the top of the road.
Alfie unlocked his door and went in. A light came on in the hall, and suddenly the silence of the street was broken by yelling, swearing and scuffling.
That noise was the signal for everyone to turn on their lights and spill out on to the street again, many of them shouting abuse and waving fists at number 11.
Alan Muckle had not yet got through the front door, and hearing the noise and commotion he tried to run for it. He was swiftly caught by the man at number 14 who twisted his arm up behind his back and brought him back to be handed to the police.
‘Child killers!’ someone shouted, and suddenly everyone was chanting it, over and over again.
‘If they knew what else they’d done they’d tear them apart with bare hands,’ Fifi exclaimed.
The three children were immediately put into the police car and driven off at speed. As the car turned the corner, someone hurled a brick through the windows of number 11, and the chanting grew louder and uglier.
A Black Maria came screaming down the street. Two policemen jumped out, pushing back the crowd and yelling that anyone stepping over the line would be arrested too.
After what seemed like hours, but was perhaps only ten or fifteen minutes, Molly and Dora were brought out handcuffed and shoved into the Black Maria, quickly followed by Alfie and Mike. The van drove off to screams of abuse, people running behind it, their faces ugly with hatred.
Fifi broke down and sobbed then. All the fears she’d had for Angela the time she intervened before had been justified. So why hadn’t she gone to the police then, or even the social services afterwards, and reported the Muckles? She’d hardly given the poor kid a thought once she knew she was pregnant, and today she’d been sunbathing when just across the road Angela was dying.
‘You are not in any way responsible,’ Dan said, as always quick to pick up on what she was thinking. ‘You couldn’t have done any more than you did.’
They went to bed then, but couldn’t sleep. Fifi wondered what asphyxiation actually meant. She’d heard the word often enough, but did it mean strangling or suffocation? She thought about the clean sheet over the child. Was that some kind of apology? Was Molly in on it all? She had to be; no man could go upstairs and do those hideous things to a seven-year-old without a mother sensing something.
But why kill her? Maybe in a way it was better that they had, for the poor little thing would surely never recover from the rape. Had Angela threatened to tell?
Fifi couldn’t imagine the child doing so. She was too fearful and cowed already. And why didn’t Alfie choose Mary or Joan, the older girls? Mary was already well developed for a thirteen-year-old. Or maybe he’d already done it to them too?
But over and above everything else, Fifi just couldn’t imagine how anyone could kill a child, then calmly take the rest of the family out for the day. What was Alfie intending to do with her when he got home? Bury her in the garden?
She knew Dan was awake too, even though he was pretending otherwise. The arm around her was tense, his whole body felt stiff. She sensed he was angry with himself for thinking that the warning of a good kicking would prevent Alfie from harming Angela again. He was probably dwelling too on what her parents would think about a man who exposed his wife to such dangerous characters.
But Fifi hadn’t got anything left inside her to comfort or reassure Dan. Her head was too full of the horror of what she’d seen that day to make room for anything else.
Chapter ten
‘Where are you going?’ Fifi asked as Dan got out of bed on Monday morning.
‘I’ve got to go to work,’ he said.
She sat up sharply. ‘You can’t,’ she said in disbelief. ‘Tell me you’re joking?’
They had spent Sunday in a kind of daze, hardly speaking because they didn’t know what to say to each other. They didn’t dare even go out for a walk because they didn’t want anyone questioning them. They silently prepared a roast dinner, but couldn’t eat it. Frank came up, and Miss Diamond later on, both asking if there was anything they could do, but it seemed as if they too had withdrawn into themselves, for they didn’t try to linger or talk.
It was the longest day Fifi had ever known. She felt unable to watch the television or read a book. She was just marking time until she could get back to bed, craving oblivion.
But they barely slept at all, tossing and turning, getting up for cups of tea twice, and it had never crossed Fifi’s mind that Dan would even consider going to work today. Surely he realized this was one time when she really needed him by her side?
Dan sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling on the pants he’d
left on the floor the night before, then turned to her.
‘I have to, Fifi,’ he said gently, reaching out to caress her cheek. ‘I’ve only just gone back after two weeks off, that held everyone up. I’ve got a wall to finish so they can start doing the roof. If I don’t go in, it will hold the whole job up again.’
‘I don’t believe what I’m hearing,’ she said coldly, pushing his hand away. ‘You’re not the only bricklayer they’ve got.’
Dan sighed and rubbed his eyes. He looked as if he hadn’t slept for days, not just two disturbed nights. ‘No, I’m not the only bricklayer, but I’m the only one who’s already been off for two weeks, and was lucky I wasn’t permanently replaced. If I go in now, with luck when I tell them what’s happened they might send me home. If I don’t show, the boss will be pissed off with me.’
‘It doesn’t matter that I’m pissed off then?’
‘I have to go, sweetheart,’ he said pleadingly, reaching for his shirt. ‘Please don’t make it harder for me.’
‘You just don’t care about me and my feelings,’ Fifi said indignantly, and lay back down with a thump.
‘You know perfectly well that isn’t true,’ he said wearily. ‘The building trade isn’t like the Civil Service, there’s no such thing as sick pay or compassionate leave cos your wife is upset about something. I can’t make anything better for you by just being here, all it means is there will be less money coming in, and I might get fired.’
‘But something might happen, and I’ve got to go and make a statement,’ she argued.
‘Yvette’s over the road, Frank’s downstairs if you need help. Even if I was to stay home and go with you to the police station, they wouldn’t let me sit in with you while you make the statement. You could be in there for hours. What sense is there in me sitting there twiddling my thumbs when I could just be finishing the job everyone’s expecting me to do today?’