Free From the Cradle by Mark Edwards, Louise Voss

dinosaurs so pretty much all her books are about T-Rexes and velociraptors and stuff – either that or fairies – and then put her to bed. She’s a good girl for me – she went down without making any fuss.’
    ‘Was her bedroom window shut?’
    ‘Yeah. Well, to be honest I didn’t really look. I closed the curtains and I don’t remember it being open. Oh my days, was it open . . . after?’
    Patrick shook his head. ‘No, I was just checking.’
    ‘What, you think someone might have got in earlier and been, like, hiding in there? Someone could have been in her wardrobe or something while we were reading?’
    ‘Alice, don’t panic. We have no reason to think that.’
    Sally reached over and tried to squeeze Alice’s hand but she snatched it away.
    ‘It’s not my fault,’ she said. ‘She’s my little sister. I love her to bits. Do you think I would do anything to put her in danger?’
    Patrick could feel this interview wriggling fish-like from his grasp. But maybe it was good to give this girl space – because if she did know something, at this point it seemed pretty likely that she was going to blurt it out. He didn’t reply, confident that Alice would feel the need to fill the silence.
    She sat and twirled the silver skull ring on her finger.
    ‘OK,’ Patrick said at last. ‘What happened after you put her t o bed?’
    ‘Nothing. I had dinner, watched telly.’
    ‘No revision?’ asked Carmella.
    ‘I’ve finished all my exams, except one.’ A hint of a smile. ‘I’m almost free.’
    Patrick checked his notes. Alice was an August baby, meaning she would have just taken her exams at the age of fifteen, one of the youngest in her year.
    ‘Did you watch TV in your room or the living room?’
    ‘Why?’
    Patrick couldn’t help but smile to himself. One day Bonnie would be like this.
    Carmella replied. ‘Alice, we need to know your movements within the house so we can work out what time the intruder might have got in, and their entry point.’
    ‘Alright. Well, I had dinner straight after Frankie went to bed. So that was around eight. I ate it in the living room in front of the TV. Then I went up to my room for a bit to, like, listen to music and stuff. Then there was a film on that I wanted to watch so I went back downstairs. It started at ten.’ She swallowed. ‘But I fell asleep while it was on and the next thing I knew Helen was chucking water in my face.’
    Patrick asked, ‘Did you have the music on loud?’
    ‘Eh? Oh, in my room. Not really.’
    ‘Was it too loud for you to be able to hear if someone came in and went up the stairs?’
    ‘Hmm. Yeah, I guess so.’
    ‘What about if Frankie had made a noise – started crying or called out?’
    ‘I would have heard that. I always hear her, even if I have my headphones on.’
    Patrick understood that. There was something about the human brain that was designed to pick up children’s cries, although he had always thought it was only one’s own children you could hear.
    ‘Did you leave your room at all between eight and ten?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Not even to use the toilet?’
    She looked at him as if the idea of this middle-aged man asking her about her visits to the loo was the most gross thing she’d ever heard. ‘I’ve got my own bathroom.’
    En-suite. Very nice. Patrick scribbled another note. ‘When you left your room at ten and went downstairs to watch TV, did you check in on Frankie?’
    She stared at the table. Next to her, Sally scrutinized her carefully. Alice’s tone, when she replied, was defensive. ‘No. I was sure she was asleep. I didn’t fucking expect some fucker to waltz into our house and snatch her, did I? Otherwise I would have camped outside her room with a knife.’
    ‘Alice, calm down,’ said Sally, who had flinched at Alice’s f-word double whammy.
    Patrick adopted his most soothing voice again. ‘We’re not judging you. Alright?’ Although he couldn’t help thinking that this sort of bad language