stool so that there was more space between them. Neither said anything more and there was nothing to hear except after a while the clump of feet going upstairs and then moving from room to room. At intervals there was also the sound of voices, but it was hard to make out any of the words being used.
‘Tea sounds like a good idea,’ said Trish eventually. ‘Shall I make you some or would you rather have a drink?’
‘Shut up, will you? I want to hear what they’re saying.’
Trish felt her eyebrows rising, but she did not protest. The two detectives seemed to be going up to the second floor, still talking. A door opened. There was more talk, so muffled by distance that it was the merest buzz. Then it stopped. Then there was nothing, not even footsteps.
The silence stretched out for a long time. Trish did not make the same mistake again and simply waited until Antonia might ask her for something. A little later they both heard footsteps coming downstairs again.
By the time the police returned to the drawing room, Antonia was on her feet and already moving towards the door.
‘What is it?’ she asked sharply. ‘What have you found?’
‘What makes you think we’ve found anything?’ asked the inspector, holding out a hand as though to silence his colleague.
With an obvious effort, Antonia almost succeeded in controlling her wobbly voice. Her hands were twisting round and round each other. The diamonds crunched as they met when the rings slid round her fingers.
‘It was the silence. It’s like builders when they’ve broken something or drilled into a pipe. You always know that kind of silence matters. What have you seen? Is it something that makes you think Nicky might have hurt her? You must tell me.’
‘Please try not to worry too much. Can you give me some idea of what Nicky and Charlotte might have taken to the park?’
‘Why? Sorry. I mean, of course I can. Nicky always took the first-aid kit: it’s a kind of rucksack thing, made of red and yellow nylon with straps – black, I think – that go round the waist. I always made sure she had that in case Charlotte hurt herself while they were out. She probably put her keys and money in the bag with the first-aid stuff: I don’t think I’ve ever seen her with a handbag. Why?’
‘What about toys? Something to keep Charlotte amused on the way to the park, maybe?’ asked the constable, earning herself a cold look from her superior.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Antonia, looking puzzled. ‘They were going to the playground. She wouldn’t have needed any toys. But why? What is it you’ve found?’
‘There’s a little blood …’
‘Blood? What d’you mean? Where?’ gasped Antonia as Trish’s mind shrieked, No! No! No!
‘On some of the clothes in Nicky’s room. It probably comes from the boy she helped in the playground. In her statement yesterday she said that he was bleeding from the knees and she cleaned the grazes and put plaster over them. She must have got blood on her hands then and probably wiped them on her clothes. We’d like to take them with us so the lab. can test them.’
‘I see.’ Antonia’s eyes were blank, as though she had been suddenly blinded. Then they lit again and focused on DCI Blake. ‘Why did you ask about toys? Is there some blood on those as well?’
‘Just a little on the handle and under the hood of a doll’s pram, which we’d also like to take with us.’
‘But how could it have got there? I don’t understand.’
‘If they took the pram with them to the playground, then it’s almost certainly the boy’s blood there, too. If Nicky threw all her first-aid equipment into the pram when she realised Charlotte was missing, that would account for it.’
‘And if they didn’t take the pram to the park?’
Trish was impressed to see that Antonia was not letting terror overcome her ability to think logically, but she looked like death.
‘There’s probably a simple explanation either way,
Learning to Kill: Stories