The Babysitter(99)

‘It might have done, Cummings,’ DCI Edwards said calmly behind him. ‘If you hadn’t got quite so cocky with it.’

Paling, Cummings shot around to face him. ‘It was self-defence, sir,’ he said quickly. ‘I had to use force to restrain her. She—’

‘Out!’ Edwards ordered him.

Cummings hesitated for a second, then, noting the livid look in Edwards’ eye, stepped past him and walked apprehensively towards the door.

‘Mark.’ Edwards looked at him, his expression not quite so openly scathing as it had been. ‘The doctor’s arrived.’ He glanced awkwardly away again. ‘If you’re ready?’

‘Would it make any difference if I wasn’t?’ Mark asked him disappointedly.

There was definitely sympathy in the man’s eyes now, probably because he was about to undergo the humiliation of being swabbed, prodded and poked. But when Edwards turned to the door, it was to find a uniform barrelling into him from the other side.

‘Sorry, sir,’ the man said quickly. ‘Moyes called in. DS Moyes. The call was cut short, but she said something about a babysitter? There’s also been an emergency call. A little girl. We managed to keep her on the line for a while. Looks like she was calling from the same location.’

His house. Mark’s blood froze in his veins.





Seventy-Seven





JADE





‘There you are.’ Jade smiled down at Poppy, crouched behind the chair, her knees tucked up to her chin. ‘My, you were hard to find,’ Jade said kindly, moving to heave the armchair away from the corner and flush the little brat out.

Extending her hand, her smile frozen on her face, Jade waited.

Obviously realising there was no way to hide, Poppy reluctantly emerged, plugging her thumb into her mouth and nervously taking Jade’s hand. Was the poor little mite worried about her mum, Jade wondered, or her soon-to-be-boiled goldfish? Her goldfish, more than likely. The child was just like Melissa, self-centred, no thought for anyone but herself.

‘Good girl.’ Squeezing her hand, Jade led her across to the sofa, where she could keep an eye on her while she attended to the business of cleaning up. ‘Now, you stay there while I get a nice warm fire going, and then we can go for a little walk in the fresh air. How does that sound?’

Poppy didn’t answer. Jade let it pass. She was obviously tired. It was way past her bedtime.

‘She really is a careless cow, your mum, leaving all these hazardous materials lying around in her workshop.’ Jade chatted companionably to the girl, sprinkling liberally as she did. ‘Lord knows what she was thinking. I mean, white spirits, on a low shelf? Honestly, it’s a wonder social services didn’t cart you off years ago. Being a drink-addled druggy’s no excuse for child abuse, is it?’

The first armchair thoroughly doused, Jade walked across to the other, smiling reassuringly at Poppy as she went. ‘You’re better off without her, my love, and that deceitful father of yours. Trust me, having no parents is better than having abusive parents. They scar you for life.’

The second armchair wet enough for purpose, Jade ditched the bottle, picked up another containing heating oil, and headed for the sofa. ‘Almost done,’ she said cheerily, unscrewing the top, and then pausing. Cocking her head to one side, she looked the quaking girl over. No, she decided. It was tempting, but she needed the brat for insurance purposes, at least for now.

‘Come on, sweetheart,’ she said, offering Poppy her hand. ‘Let’s get you out in the fresh air. These fumes really aren’t any good for you.’ Tsk-ing at the irresponsibility of a mother who would expose a child to this, let alone the clay and glaze dusts, which must surely be highly toxic, Jade poured out the last of the oil and led the little girl to the safety of the hall.

‘Stay,’ she ordered. ‘If you move, I’ll saw your feet off.’

The girl let out a ragged sob. Jade sighed, pulled her matches from her jeans pocket, and held onto her patience. It wasn’t her fault she was the product of her dysfunctional parents, she supposed.

‘Here we go,’ she said, bending as she struck the match, watching the flame dancing in the little girl’s watery eyes.

Mesmerised for a second, Jade jumped to her feet before the match burned down, and then, tingling with anticipation, she tossed it into the lounge. ‘Whoosh,’ she whispered, closing her eyes, a thrill rushing through her as it caught.

Jade hesitated, making sure the flames leapt and furled before pulling the door to. ‘It’s going to be the most beautiful bonfire ever. Much bigger than the others I made. There’s lots of wood in your house, you see,’ she confided conspiratorially to Poppy, taking her hand firmly in her own. ‘I’ll let you get closer to the next one,’ she promised.

The girl was crying in earnest now, gulping back huge snotty sobs as Jade led her to the front door.

She’d feel better after a good cry. Not that Jade ever had. She’d stopped crying once she’d realised tears were pointless when there was no one who cared enough to hear them.

‘You really need to feel the heat of the fire on your face to realise the true cleansing beauty of it,’ she said, attempting to mollify the child as she pulled the front door open – and then stopped, fury uncoiling inside her as she saw several blue lights rotating outside. The interfering bitch upstairs had got her call through.