Justin
all that much; he couldn’t imagine how it must be to try and deal with the
death of a child, especially in such tragic circumstances. He had a job to do
however, and while he knew it wasn’t fair to disturb the man at such a time, he
also knew that if he didn’t get the story someone else would.
“I appreciate this is a difficult time for
you and your wife, but with the escape of Michael Davis, I think it important
that the public knows as much about what happened here in Greenville as possible.”
Justin wasn’t sure if Donald’s lack of
surprise at the news was because it had already reached him, or because he was
so emotionally numb that he couldn’t process it properly. It didn’t really
matter to him which was the case, only that the man didn’t demand an immediate
explanation.
“I’ve already spoken to Mrs Water about her
daughter, and I hope to speak to Mr Water later. Anything you can add to what
she told me may help to save more girls from suffering as your daughter did.”
Careful not to push things, as he feared he
had with Kelly Nelson, Justin silently gave Donald time to consider what he had
said.
After what seemed like an interminable wait,
Justin was relieved to see Donald step back and to one side. As he did so, the
grieving father opened the door wide, allowing Justin to enter.
“Thank you.” Justin stepped forward and into
the house. He stopped in the passage while the door was shut behind him and
then he followed Donald Pale into the living room.
He looked around as he was gestured to the
sofa; there was no sign of Karen Pale. “Is your wife at home?” he asked. The
look of the living room suggested that if she was, she hadn’t bothered with the
housework in the past week, if not longer.
A thin coating of dust was visible on top of
the television, the sideboard and everything else in the room. The carpet
looked un-vacuumed, and was stained, where someone had spilled a drink. Several
unwashed cups and plates sat on the coffee table in front of the sofa. In
addition to that, the curtains were half-pulled, giving the room a gloomy look.
It wasn’t the first time he had seen a room
looking as that one did. Having interviewed a number of people who had suffered
the agony of losing a family member under the most tragic of circumstances, he
knew it was a symptom of the depression that so often accompanied such a loss.
“My wife is ill,” Donald said, after
considering the best way to answer the question.
Justin nodded at that. “I’m sure what
happened to your daughter has been a tremendous shock to both of you, and an
enormous strain on your wife. I hope you’ll forgive me for this intrusion at
such a difficult time, but I’m sure you can appreciate that anything you’re
able to tell me may help prevent another parent suffering as you and your wife
are.”
“Sure,” Donald agreed with an unenthusiastic
nod of his head.
“I’ll try to get this over with as quickly as
possible, so you can get back to looking after your wife.” Justin turned on his
Dictaphone but left it in his pocket and took out his pad and pen and got ready
to get started. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get started with the night your
daughter disappeared. It was a fortnight ago on Friday, wasn’t it?” he said
after double-checking the notes he had scribbled on the pad.
“Yes,” Donald nodded.
“Would you mind telling me what happened?”
Justin asked, his pen poised.
Donald dropped heavily into the armchair near
the window. “It was just the same as any other Friday, at least we thought so.
Danielle did her chores and then left to go and see, to go and see Michael,” he
said haltingly.
Justin saw it in his face; it hadn’t really
struck him until then, his daughter had been dating the person who raped and
murdered her. What had been done to her was bad enough, but for it to have
happened at the hands of someone he, his wife and his daughter had known and
trusted made it all the
all that much; he couldn’t imagine how it must be to try and deal with the
death of a child, especially in such tragic circumstances. He had a job to do
however, and while he knew it wasn’t fair to disturb the man at such a time, he
also knew that if he didn’t get the story someone else would.
“I appreciate this is a difficult time for
you and your wife, but with the escape of Michael Davis, I think it important
that the public knows as much about what happened here in Greenville as possible.”
Justin wasn’t sure if Donald’s lack of
surprise at the news was because it had already reached him, or because he was
so emotionally numb that he couldn’t process it properly. It didn’t really
matter to him which was the case, only that the man didn’t demand an immediate
explanation.
“I’ve already spoken to Mrs Water about her
daughter, and I hope to speak to Mr Water later. Anything you can add to what
she told me may help to save more girls from suffering as your daughter did.”
Careful not to push things, as he feared he
had with Kelly Nelson, Justin silently gave Donald time to consider what he had
said.
After what seemed like an interminable wait,
Justin was relieved to see Donald step back and to one side. As he did so, the
grieving father opened the door wide, allowing Justin to enter.
“Thank you.” Justin stepped forward and into
the house. He stopped in the passage while the door was shut behind him and
then he followed Donald Pale into the living room.
He looked around as he was gestured to the
sofa; there was no sign of Karen Pale. “Is your wife at home?” he asked. The
look of the living room suggested that if she was, she hadn’t bothered with the
housework in the past week, if not longer.
A thin coating of dust was visible on top of
the television, the sideboard and everything else in the room. The carpet
looked un-vacuumed, and was stained, where someone had spilled a drink. Several
unwashed cups and plates sat on the coffee table in front of the sofa. In
addition to that, the curtains were half-pulled, giving the room a gloomy look.
It wasn’t the first time he had seen a room
looking as that one did. Having interviewed a number of people who had suffered
the agony of losing a family member under the most tragic of circumstances, he
knew it was a symptom of the depression that so often accompanied such a loss.
“My wife is ill,” Donald said, after
considering the best way to answer the question.
Justin nodded at that. “I’m sure what
happened to your daughter has been a tremendous shock to both of you, and an
enormous strain on your wife. I hope you’ll forgive me for this intrusion at
such a difficult time, but I’m sure you can appreciate that anything you’re
able to tell me may help prevent another parent suffering as you and your wife
are.”
“Sure,” Donald agreed with an unenthusiastic
nod of his head.
“I’ll try to get this over with as quickly as
possible, so you can get back to looking after your wife.” Justin turned on his
Dictaphone but left it in his pocket and took out his pad and pen and got ready
to get started. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get started with the night your
daughter disappeared. It was a fortnight ago on Friday, wasn’t it?” he said
after double-checking the notes he had scribbled on the pad.
“Yes,” Donald nodded.
“Would you mind telling me what happened?”
Justin asked, his pen poised.
Donald dropped heavily into the armchair near
the window. “It was just the same as any other Friday, at least we thought so.
Danielle did her chores and then left to go and see, to go and see Michael,” he
said haltingly.
Justin saw it in his face; it hadn’t really
struck him until then, his daughter had been dating the person who raped and
murdered her. What had been done to her was bad enough, but for it to have
happened at the hands of someone he, his wife and his daughter had known and
trusted made it all the
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