Free River of Darkness by Rennie Airth Page B

arms about his neck and pressing her cheek to his shoulder. He stood still, as though stunned, then turned and slowly mounted the steps to the terrace. Helen Black well saw the tears on his cheeks. 'Oh, ma'am . . .' Mary said beside her. The doctor moved away from the window. 'Mary, would you go and ask Cook to get Sophy's lunch ready?' she said. 'I'll bring her through in a moment.' As soon as the maid had gone Helen Blackwell sat down in a chair and lit a cigarette. She felt drained of energy. She wanted to sit quietly and think. But there was something she had to do at once, an urgent problem that needed solving, and after less than a minute she extinguished the cigarette, ran her fingers through her hair and went out on to the terrace to speak to Inspector Madden.
    'She wants to send the child to Scotland? Och, John, I can't let her do that.' 'It might be the best thing, sir.' They were sitting in what Mr Poole, the landlord of the Rose and Crown, called the snug bar, a panelled recess at the back of the taproom. He had set it aside for the use of the police. The main bar was shut - it was the middle of the afternoon - but they could hear the barmaid at work cleaning up. She was singing a song Madden remembered from the war.
    K-K-K-Katy, my beautiful Katy, You're the only g-g-g-girl that I adore . . .
    'What will I tell the Yard?' 'What Dr Blackwell told me. It's her professional opinion. The child would be better off with her family - she still has a brother alive, remember - and also more likely to recover if she's away from here.' Sinclair frowned discouragingly. 'You say her aunt and uncle are coming down from Scotland for the funerals?' 'Yes, on Friday. Dr Blackwell would like Sophy to go back with them.' 'The child hasn't said a word yet?' 'No, but Dr Blackwell thinks she will soon. Start speaking 'Well, then?' Sinclair raised his eyebrows. 'The doctor believes it's unlikely she'll talk about what happened that night. In fact, she may have blocked it out of her mind. Repressed memory, I believe it's called.' Madden paused. 'Dr Blackwell's already spoken to someone in Edinburgh - a psychologist -- who could start treating the child right away.' 'Takes a lot on herself, your Dr Blackwell does.' 'Not mine, sir. Very much her own woman, I'd say.' 'Would you, now!' Sinclair snorted. 'Damn it, everything she says makes sense.' He took out his pipe and began to fill it. 'This doctor in Edinburgh . . .?' 'Another woman, sir.' Madden smiled. 'A Dr Edith Mackay. She had a full medical training and then studied to become a psychologist. Apparently she specializes in children. Sophy's aunt and uncle are only half an hour out of Edinburgh. She could see the child regularly.' 'Very well.' The chief inspector held up his hands in surrender. 'But if the girl says one word about what happened that night 'Her uncle will get in touch with the Edinburgh police immediately. Dr Blackwell promised that.'Sinclair lit his pipe. 'Anything else?' 'Only this.' Madden took two folded pieces of paper from his jacket pocket. 'Dr Blackwell gave Sophy a pad and some crayons and she started drawing straight away. Always the same thing, the doctor said.' He handed the papers to Sinclair who examined the childish scribbles. The same balloon and string design covered both sheets of paper with little variation.
    'What does it mean?' 'Dr Blackwell has no idea. But she thought we ought to see it.' The chief inspector handed the papers back. He said, 'I'm about to break the law. I'm going to ask Mr Poole to serve us a drink. Then I'll tell you what happened at the Yard this morning.'

'Like the curate's egg, it could have been better and it could have been worse.' Sinclair set two glasses of whisky on the table in front of Madden. He shut the hatchway to the taproom, picked up his pipe from the ashtray and sat down. 'Parkhurst started off chairing the meeting' - Sir George Parkhurst was the Assistant Commissioner, Crime; effectively head of the CID - 'but