Kennedy 04 - The Broken Circle by Shirley Wells Page B

no further forward. She knew that Claire had loved her daughter like she’d never loved anything in her sad life before. Jill assumed that, by killing Daisy, Claire thought she had saved her from the only life she was capable of giving her.
    Jill didn’t like assuming anything. She liked to approach every case with an open mind but, with Claire, all she was doing was relying on psychiatric reports. Worse still, she couldn’t even get close to understanding Claire. Try as she might, she couldn’t see Claire as a woman capable of killing her own daughter.
    ‘I thought about you and Daisy this morning,’ she said casually. ‘I walked into Bacup and up through Stubbylee Park. I even had a go on the swing.’ She smiled at the memory. ‘I bet Daisy loved it there, didn’t she? You know the paddling pool? They’ve filled that in. It’s a shame, isn’t it? Health and safety, I suppose. They must have worried that a child would drown. Sometimes I think this country is health and safety mad, don’t you?’
    ‘If you say so.’
    ‘It wasn’t used very often, though,’ she went on, ‘so I don’t suppose people will miss it. The dogs might. Whenever I’ve been there in the past, dogs have been splashing around in it or having a drink.’ She paused. ‘The council are doing a lot of work round there at the moment. They must have money to burn. If it stands still, dig it up, seems to be their motto.’
    Claire didn’t look unduly worried at the prospect of an unsuspecting council worker stumbling across a child’s body.
    ‘They’re digging up by Lee Quarry, too,’ Jill went on. ‘They’ve put mountain bike trails in. It’s proving very popular.’
    No reaction.
    ‘How did you get along with Peter’s parents, Claire?’
    These days, the couple couldn’t find a good word to say about Claire but that wasn’t surprising. ‘Hanging’s too bloody good for her!’ they’d chanted in unison.
    ‘I only saw them twice,’ Claire said. ‘They didn’t want much to do with Peter or me. They thought Peter had gone mad when he married me.’ The idea seemed to amuse her. ‘Perhaps he had.’
    ‘Didn’t they see much of Daisy?’
    ‘No.’
    Much more of this and Jill would admit defeat.
    Yet there was something here that intrigued her. Something wrong, something she couldn’t pinpoint.
    Claire had walked into the local police station very early one morning clutching a pillow and an empty bottle. She claimed she had given Daisy a few Diazepam tablets to swallow before suffocating her and disposing of her body. She had adamantly refused to say how or where.
    ‘You never learned to drive, did you, Claire?’
    ‘No. Why should I?’
    Because it would make it easier to move a body around. Without a car, just how did she move Daisy’s body? She must have moved it because a massive police search of the house and vicinity hadn’t revealed anything …
    ‘No reason. Given the traffic chaos I endured coming here today, I can’t say I blame you.’
    Claire smirked at her. ‘You’re not doing very well, are you?’
    ‘Sorry?’
    ‘You’re no closer to finding out where Daisy is.’
    Unless Jill was mistaken, that was the first time Claire had uttered her daughter’s name.
    She was right though; Jill wasn’t doing very well.
    ‘I can’t do it on my own,’ she pointed out. ‘I need your help, Claire. If you’re not prepared to help me, I’ll never do very well, will I?’
    ‘Perhaps next time,’ Claire murmured.
    And perhaps not.
    ‘OK.’ Jill looked at her watch. ‘I’ve got another half an hour,’ she said, ‘so we can talk about anything you like. Unless you’d rather be on your own,’ she added.
    Claire shrugged as if it didn’t matter one way or another, but Jill knew it did. These sessions were a lifeline to her, simply because they broke up her long, empty days.
    ‘Right,’ Jill said, taking that as agreement to talk about something. ‘Pick a subject.’
    Claire smiled.