Where's my Daddy?'
Little Mark McGrath, the only survivor from the Lammermuirs disaster, as it had been christened already by the electronic media, sat on the edge of a table in the mobile Police Headquarters. As Skinner, Legge and the Lieutenant had found and rescued the Scottish Office Minister's son, the articulated office on wheels had been established on a site around half a mile beyond the scene of the crash, where it could tap into telephone cables.
The child was wrapped in a blanket. Sarah Grace Skinner sat behind him on the table, squeezing his ribcage gently in search of any hidden fractures, as she completed her medical examination. If the boy had looked over his shoulder he would have seen that she was in tears.
`Doctors don't believe in miracles,' she said quietly to her husband, 'but this is one. There isn't a scratch on him. Down there, people are-' She shuddered, and stopped herself just in time.
`The water, the angle of descent, and the stewardess's cradling, must have cushioned him against the impact. From your description, I'd guess that the cabin crew all suffered fatal whiplash-type injuries. But Mark must have been curled up like a ball, and held safe. He's completely unscathed.'
`Let's hope he stays that way, mentally,' said Skinner fervently.
`Where's my Daddy?' asked the child again, more insistent this time, with more than an edge of fear in his voice. The last of his trembling had gone, but as the adults looked at him, each was torn by the haunted look in his eyes.
`Your Daddy's had to go away,' said Maggie Rose gently. 'You know that happens sometimes, don't you?'
The child nodded sagely. Even at his age he must have known the demands of a politician's life, for the answer seemed to satisfy him.
`Mark,' asked the red-haired Inspector, 'do you know where your Mummy is today?'
At the dentist in London.' The boy screwed up his face with distaste.
`Do you know if she was coming up to join you later on?' `Yes. We're on holiday. From school,' he added, with emphasis.
Is this your first year at school?'
‘Yess! Mummy teaches there. We're both on holiday. We have to go back on Monday morning, though. Daddy's going to take me to football tomorrow.'
`Which team do you support?'
`Celtic' The boy stuck out his chest, proudly. In spite of himself, and for the first time that morning, Skinner laughed. Suddenly he felt Sarah tug at his sleeve.
`Bob. I have to go back' He looked down at her. The tears had stopped, but her face was ghostly white and drawn. He guessed at the images which were before her eyes, and his heart went out to her.
`No love, you don't,' he said quietly. 'There are other doctors on the scene now.'
`But no one else to organise. There's no one else here who's been involved in the contingency planning for this sort of thing.'
Others have. I'll get one of them.'
She shook her head. 'No special treatment for the DCC's wife. I signed up for this sort of thing, and I'm here. I have to go back.' She pulled her hand away from his and left the office, almost at a run.
Through the window he watched her, as she climbed into her car. He had never seen this Sarah before, and he was frightened by her; even more frightened for her.
`Sir,' Maggie Rose broke into his thoughts. He turned round towards her, and the boy, who was concentrating on liberating a four-finger KitKat biscuit from its wrapper.
`We should ask him now — about what happened.'
He looked at his assistant. 'You're trained in interviewing kids, Mags. But are you sure it's safe? Couldn't we damage him?'
Obviously he doesn't understand what's happened. There's trauma, but he isn't able to comprehend the scale or the consequences. It's probably better that we help him to talk about it now, rather than later… if you know what I mean.' Skinner winced at the thought of the child's pain to come when he learned of his father's death. His mind went back almost twenty years, to a young Police Sergeant breaking the news to his daughter, even younger then than Mark, that her mother was gone for ever. He remembered her initial disbelief, then her refusal to understand him, and finally her confusion as she struggled to come to terms with a concept which was beyond her ability to comprehend. The picture was as clear in his mind as a video recording, and with it was his recollection of his struggle to keep the tears from his own eyes as he explained, as best he could, life, death and the cruelty of fate to four-year-old Alex.
All right. You can talk to him,' he said at last, in a voice not much above a whisper. 'But stop at the first sign of distress.'
Unnoticed by the child, he switched on a black tape recorder which lay upon the table.
`Mark,' said Maggie, 'why were you in the cockpit?'
He looked up at her. 'April took me in,' he said through a mouthful of KitKat. 'Mr Shipley wanted to show me how to fly the plane, she said.'
Was that good? Did you enjoy it?'
He nodded vigorously, chewing and swallowing.
`Do you want to be a pilot when you grow up?'
He shook his head. 'Can't.'
`Why not?' said Rose, intrigued by his earnest answer. "Cos I'm going to be Prime Minister. Daddy says.'
The Inspector suppressed a smile.
`When you were in the cockpit: do you remember what happened?'
The child screwed up his eyes, as if to emphasise that he was concentrating. 'There was a huge Bang!' He squealed the word, for extra effect, and the listeners started slightly. 'From behind the door.' Rose glanced at Skinner.
`Then what?' she went on quickly.
`Mr Shipley said to put our seat-belts on. I didn't have one, but April sat down and put hers on, then put an extension thing around. Then she cuddled me. It was nice. She gave me a sweet.'
`What else did Mr Shipley say?'
`He said "We're going to do an Emergency Routine now, Mark. You have to sit with April." Emergency Routine.' He stuck out his chest once more, as if pleased by his pronunciation of the phrase.
`Then Mr Shipley started saying "Madie!" into his microphone. He told me that you have to shout "Madie!" in an Emergency Routine.'
`Then what happened?'
He looked at her, puzzled.
`What did you see?'
`Nothing. Because April was cuddling me. She was holding my head. In there.' A small hand emerged from the folds of the blanket and pointed to Maggie's bosom. 'I could hardly breathe.'
`She was cuddling you tight, in there?'
`Mmm.' He spoke through another finger of KitKat. Did you hear anything, apart from Mr Shipley?'
The child munched and knitted his brows. 'Nothing.' He paused. 'No noise. No engines.'
`Then what happened?'
Listening and watching, Skinner realised suddenly that he was holding his breath. He filled his lungs.
`The plane went "Boinng!" and bounced. There was a huge big splash, and it went
"Boinng!". My tummy went all funny. Daddy and Mummy took me to Alton Towers, on the great big ride there. It was just like that, only my tummy went a lot more funny this time.' Mark's eyes were shining — with the memory of his terror, Skinner imagined.
`Then it went "Boinng!" again, and again.'
And all this time April was still cuddling you?'
Until she made a funny noise and let me go.'
`When was that?'
I think it was just before the plane stopped.'
After the water came in?'
Mark creased his brows again, his special concentration sign. `No. Before.'
Did the water come in all of a sudden?'
`No. Slowly.'
`Did Mr Shipley say anything else? Or April, or Mr Garrett?' `No. I asked Mr Shipley, "Is this still Emergency Routine?" but he didn't say anything.
`Were you frightened when the water came in?'
Not really,' said the boy slowly. He was an unconvincing liar. `What did you do?'
I undid my belt, and climbed up, till it stopped.'
`Were you frightened at all?'
Mark turned his head and looked up at Skinner, shyly embarrassed. 'Yes,' he said, reluctantly and quietly. 'Most of all when Mr Bob banged on the window and broke it.'
`Why were you especially frightened then?' asked Maggie. "Cos I thought he was a big thing come to eat me, like in Power Rangers.'
Again, Skinner laughed aloud. 'No chance of that, Mark. I don't eat wee boys. Just policemen!'