The Next Girl(Detective Gina Harte #1)(31)

‘It’s okay, Mrs McDonald. Just tell us everything in your own words as they come to you,’ Gina said with a smile.

‘I was so worried about Junior. The rain, it was pelting. He doesn’t like the rain. I also felt bad as he’d piddled on the floor earlier that day. I was angry and threw him out in the rain. You’re not going to report me to the animal welfare people, are you?’

‘Of course not, Mrs McDonald. We’re just here to establish what you saw on that evening. I can see that Junior is very well cared for,’ Gina replied.

The old lady began to pick at her crepe-like cuticles. ‘The lights were off in the house and I hadn’t got the television on. I’d been reading a book about local historical murders that my son got me last Christmas and I’d scared myself a bit. Anyway, I decided to go up to bed and watch telly but I needed to get the cat in first. I do that, go to bed early. It’s how I keep warm. I stared out the window, thinking, where is my Junior? Will he ever come back? That’s when I saw the man. He had the gait of a man anyway. A straight waist under a hooded dark jacket. The type the kids wear all the time. I tried to look at his face as he passed but I couldn’t see a thing. He had a scarf wrapped around his mouth and he was soaking wet. I remember thinking, why would anyone be out on a night like this without a raincoat or umbrella, or indeed, even wellingtons? He just seemed out of place. Does that make sense?’

Gina checked her watch again, and nodded. Jacob continued to scribble in his pad. The cat meowed and ran back into the room.

‘I think he’s hungry. Will this take long?’ she asked.

‘It shouldn’t take too much longer,’ said Gina. ‘If you’d like to continue. You were saying that this person passed by outside and was wearing a hooded jacket?’

The woman leaned down and grabbed the cat. It yelped and wriggled. She gripped him and placed him on her lap. He immediately jumped back down. ‘That was it really. He passed and turned into the cut-through, just down the path. The one that leads to the library.’

‘When you called, you mentioned that this person was carrying something,’ Jacob said.

‘Yes. He had some sort of sports bag. He wasn’t carrying it like a sports bag though, over the shoulder or with arms linked under the handles. He was cradling the bag and talking as he scurried past.’ The woman looked up at the ceiling and shook her head. ‘Was he the one who left that baby to die in the rain?’

The smattering of raindrops had now turned into hailstones that tapped on the windowpanes. ‘We don’t know that. We’re just collecting witness statements at the moment, so that we can try to establish the facts of what happened that night. He may well have been the person who left the baby, or he may well have been doing something else. We need to identify and find him, to eliminate him from our enquiries.’ Gina stepped back towards the window. ‘Was he walking on this side of the path, right outside your window, or was he on the other side of the road?’

‘The other side, until he reached the cut through, that is. He then crossed and disappeared down it. I gave up on looking for Junior and went to bed then. I did feel bad but what could I do? He was scratching at the back door the next morning though so all was fine. Would you like some more tea?’

Gina looked at her watch and shook her head. ‘It’s very kind of you to offer, Mrs McDonald, but we have to get back to the station.’ Jacob nodded in agreement.

‘It’s lovely that you could come. If you need to come back to talk about anything else, I’m always in except on Monday between nine and ten thirty. You’re always welcome.’ Mrs McDonald’s hands trembled as she stood and went to lift the tea tray.

‘Here, let me take this for you,’ Gina said, reaching for the tray.

‘Thank you, dear. I tell you what, getting old is the worst thing ever. Enjoy your youth.’

Gina walked through to the pale blue kitchen and set the tray down on the worktop. The tap dripped, the wallpaper above the sink was peeling and fungus was growing around the window frame. The cat ran through and coiled himself around her ankles. She looked at her watch. Hannah would arrive at her house in just under an hour. She had to get back to the station, get the report to Briggs and get home.

Jacob was being led towards the door by Mrs McDonald. ‘You’ve been very helpful. Thank you so much. Here’s my card if you remember anything else in the meantime. Just call that number and ask for me.’

Gina joined them at the door. ‘Thank you, Mrs McDonald. Don’t forget to put your chain back on when we’ve left.’

‘I won’t. You never know who’s knocking about.’

‘You certainly don’t,’ Gina replied as they stepped into the hailstones. The woman hunched over as she closed the door. They watched as she entered the living room and turned the lamp off.

‘I hope I’m never that alone,’ Gina said.

Jacob looked back at her as they raced from the porch to the car. ‘It’s sad, so sad. There are so many Mrs McDonalds though.’

Total darkness had descended upon the road. Only three lamps were working. She hoped that Mrs McDonald’s account was an accurate one, that she wasn’t just a lonely woman, making things up. If true, she’d given them a useful start, and the fact that the suspect had been cradling a bag suggested highly unusual behaviour – behaviour consistent with someone who was carrying a baby in a bag.