Free Perseverance Street by Ken McCoy Page A

stood back and allowed them through before following them and laying the hammer down on the table, to the WPC’s relief.
    ‘We’re here about the altercation between you and Mrs Hilda Muscroft?’
    ‘Did you ask her about my broken window?’
    ‘Are you saying she did this?’
    ‘I’m saying she was out in the street, laughing about it when I went to the door.’
    ‘Mrs Muscroft told us about that. Apparently it was a local boy who did it.’
    ‘I saw a boy running away – and I know who it was. Mrs Muscroft will have known. Did she tell you who it was?’
    ‘She said she didn’t know.’
    ‘Of course she knows. He only lives at number twenty-four. His name’s Harry Bridges. If that brick had been a few inches to one side you’d have been arresting him for murder. That’d have given Hilda Muscroft something to laugh at.’
    Tears were streaming down Lily’s face as she spoke. Upstairs Christopher began to cry. Without bothering to excuse herself Lily left the room and went upstairs to attend to him. Bannister and the WPC looked at one another.
    ‘Bit awkward, all this, Sarge.’
    ‘Hmm, Icould have done without this Mrs Muscroft complication. If she doesn’t withdraw I’ll have to think about charging Mrs Robinson with assault. I wonder if there was a witness?’
    Bannister looked at the door through which Lily had recently left them to attend to her baby. ‘I think you should go up. Check she’s OK.’
    ‘She’s probably feeding him.’
    ‘Probably – that’s one of the reasons I brought you along. Have a chat, woman to woman. See what you make of her. I’m blessed if I know.’
    As the WPC went upstairs Bannister took a close look at the wall clock. It was a highly decorative piece set in a walnut case, with a large brass pendulum. His wife wouldn’t object to having such a clock on their wall at home. It was completely out of place in this room but it wouldn’t have been out of place in the Lark House drawing room. Lily Robinson would need to tell him where it had come from. Her answer might even have a bearing on her future.
    It was ten minutes before the WPC came down, followed by a red-eyed Lily holding her baby. Bannister asked her to sit down, which she did. He sat down opposite, not wishing to appear overbearing.
    ‘Lily, the reason we’re here is because Mrs Muscroft has made a very serious allegation that you assaulted her, causing her to receive hospital treatment.’
    ‘So Eileen told me,’ said Lily, looking at the WPC. ‘It’s about par for the course for me. I get a broken window, my baby nearly gets a smashed skull and who gets the blame?’
    ‘We’renot blaming anyone,’ said Bannister. ‘Mrs Muscroft said you assaulted her, we’d like to hear your side of the story.’
    Lily took a while to gather herself together. ‘For some reason,’ she said eventually, ‘the people round here seem to think I killed my son Michael. I’ve got no idea why.’ She looked, accusingly at Bannister and added, ‘Except that I know you don’t believe my story of how he went missing. I also know someone’s been in this house while I’ve been away and I can only assume it was the police. Was it?’
    Bannister struggled not to look guilty. ‘It was a routine investigation,’ he said. ‘No reflection on you.’
    ‘Rubbish! Why didn’t you tell me about it, then? How did you get in?’
    ‘We used a locksmith. Your lock wasn’t damaged.’
    ‘Really? I had my keys with me in hospital. Why didn’t you ask to borrow them?’
    Bannister gave up his pretence. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Your story just doesn’t add up. We had to check you out. No one in Leeds or Grassington has ever seen or heard of this Mr Oldroyd.’
    ‘I described the interior of the house to you. Have you been to check?’
    ‘Yes, I have, and you described it accurately.’ He paused, then added, ‘But that doesn’t prove that you stayed there with your family. It simply proves that you’ve been in the house at