The Silent Ones: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller(26)
‘Fine, but if Brianna gets upset, I want to be with her,’ Chloe says in a clipped voice.
‘Me too,’ I add.
‘Of course.’ Neary nods. ‘I appreciate you both agreeing to this.’
I text Tom to say what’s happening and to ask if Josh is OK. I also text Beth to tell her about Dana Sewell’s involvement in the case now I remember she’s the one who told me the gossip in the first place. Movement through the glass pulls my attention away from my phone. Carol walks into the room holding the girls’ hands, one each side of her.
She leads them to a low round table with several chairs set in the middle of the room.
I want to bang on the glass so that Maddy knows I’m here, but instead I close my eyes and offer up a silent prayer that Neary’s plan works and our girls finally tell us what happened in Bessie Wilford’s house.
Seventeen
The police station
Dana entered the comfortable family interview suite from the corridor, where the two girls were waiting in upholstered chairs. Carol sat slightly set back from the interview grouping.
The children were now dressed in their own clothes their grandparents had brought in from their house. The girl on the left, Maddy Fletcher, wore dark pink leggings and a long lemon and pink striped sweater. Her dark hair was gathered in a loose ponytail, framing a pale, slightly chubby face.
Brianna Voce was wearing a floral long-sleeved dress with ankle socks and trainers. Her slim legs were lightly tanned and she had a sportier look about her than her cousin, with her sun-kissed caramel-brown hair pulled back into a high ponytail.
Dana had been told there was just a couple of months between the cousins in age, but Brianna looked older, more poised somehow.
Before he’d taken her to meet Juliet and Chloe, Neary had furnished Dana with more information on the case, including some disturbing photographs of a badly injured Bessie Wilford taken as officers arrived at the crime scene.
The image of the old woman’s neat grey hair matted with clumps of blood and brain matter would stay with her a long time.
Looking at the girls now, she knew she must eradicate the gruesome images from her mind. The only way to reach the truth was to start with a clean slate, to form her own crucially untainted opinion.
She had seen some horrific things in the ten years she’d worked with troubled youngsters – violent deeds, family abuse and acts of delinquency at a relatively young age – but her mind struggled to pair these two innocent-looking children with the vicious attack on great-grandmother Bessie.
‘Hello, girls.’ She sat down in the empty chair she’d asked to be positioned facing Maddy and Brianna across the low round coffee table. It was vital she keep the interaction as low-key and friendly as possible, and to that end she didn’t offer a handshake, but smiled at both children instead.
The girls fidgeted in their seats and Maddy glanced briefly at Carol, but neither child returned Dana’s greeting.
Still, her entrance had already told her something.
When she’d stepped into the room, Brianna’s eyes had widened fractionally and fixed on her just a beat longer than was absolutely necessary. It suggested recognition, possibly from Dana’s visits to school, and as far as she was concerned, recognition was a very good start when it came to gaining trust.
‘First of all, I want to introduce myself. My name is Dana Sewell and I live in the same village you do. In fact, you may even recognise me, because I sometimes come to your school to talk to children there.’
Brianna’s expression remained stony, while Maddy’s heel began to bounce lightly on the floor.
These were the jewels that came from studying body language. In seconds, a single gesture or movement could tell a story of a thousand words. It was the reason Dana had asked to see the girls together without their parents present.
With no familiar adults in the room, she hoped to begin to garner an early impression of the relationship between the two young cousins. Irrespective of their backgrounds, when two juveniles carried out a deviant act together, it was highly likely that one of them was influential in the relationship.
She filled the silence with some additional information about herself.
‘I want you to know I’m not a police officer or a teacher. I’m not a social worker or a doctor, either. I’m a family therapist, which means I’m here to help you and your parents and grandparents in any way I can.’
She turned her palms upwards and rested her hands on her knees. She was ultra-aware of her own body placement, careful not to cross her arms or legs in a defensive or threatening manner. She had also ensured that the seating area was arranged informally.
It didn’t seem like much, but it was important to avoid subconscious barriers that might prevent the girls from opening up. The smallest details could stop them feeling they had the freedom to communicate in a way they had been unable to do so far with the other authority figures, including their own parents. Dana intended calling on every tiny trick in her considerable arsenal of experience to help her build rapport quickly.
‘I know you must be feeling scared and confused,’ she said gently. ‘That’s completely natural, but I’m here to help you help yourselves, if that makes sense. We can start to sort all this out, and we can do it together. The three of us. Does that sound OK?’