Deep Hurt - Eva Hudson Page 0,76

subject only a couple of years ago—but I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that, chief inspector.”

Ingrid looked expectantly at Radcliffe for an explanation. The DCI shifted uncomfortably on his stool. “The CPS guidance says a charge of homicide or attempted murder can’t be justified by the presence of head injuries alone. Other evidence needs to be present,” Radcliffe told her.

“Such as?”

“Such as an eye witness account of what happened. In this case, Carrie Foster’s.” The DCI sounded irritated.

Ingrid turned away from him. “How strong would someone need to be to do this kind of damage?” Ingrid was frustrated not to have Molly’s file in front of her. “You are familiar with the details of the case?”

“I am—Roger brought me up to speed.” He suddenly seemed distracted by something.

Ingrid followed his gaze and saw a waitress approaching with a large oval plate piled high with chunky fries and an enormous hunk of fish covered in dark orange batter. Ryland’s eyes widened as he shoved his pint glass out of the way to make room for his lunch.

“Another pint of bitter would go down a treat too.” He winked at the waitress then turned to Ingrid and Radcliffe. “Would you like another drink?” He eyed their untouched glasses sitting on the table. “Something stronger than orange juice perhaps?”

“We’re both fine.” Radcliffe dismissed the waitress with a wave of his hand.

The interview wasn’t going the way Ingrid had envisaged. She’d have to keep Ryland on track. But now he had beer battered Moby Dick and two pounds of deep fried potatoes to distract his attention, she wasn’t hopeful she’d manage it.

“The person responsible for the attack wouldn’t need to be that physically strong at all,” Ryland said after he’d thoughtfully chewed and swallowed a large mouthful of greasy fish. Ingrid was surprised he’d even remembered the original question. “Although the infant brain is pretty well protected by the skull at fourteen months, there’s still space inside the cranium to allow significant movement of the fragile organ with only the gentlest of shaking. It would need to be prolonged, however.” He speared three fat fries onto his fork, dipped them in tomato ketchup and shoved them into his mouth.

“And would prolonged shaking indicate more… premeditation… more intent?” Ingrid waited for him to repeat the chewing and swallowing procedure.

“Impossible to say.”

“Really?”

“I would have suggested that in the past, but I’ve had my fingers burnt making those kind of assumptions.”

“So it’s possible in a moment of weakness, a fit of rage… in a desperate attempt to stop a baby crying, for example, someone could inflict those injuries accidentally?”

“It has been known.”

Ingrid stared pointedly at Radcliffe, who took a moment to look up at her. He’d previously been mesmerized by Dr Ryland’s eating habits, an expression of mild disgust on his face. He gave her a shrug, his eyebrows raised as if to suggest what Ryland was telling them was of little consequence.

“Though in those cases, in my experience, additional head trauma has been present,” Ryland said.

“Meaning?”

“The head has made contact with a hard surface.”

“Is there evidence of that in this case?”

“There is some external bruising at the back of the skull. So it’s certainly possible.”

“Could that kind of injury be the result of an accidental knock to the head?” Ingrid asked.

Ryland nodded thoughtfully. “Though I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”

“If you wouldn’t mind bearing with me just a little longer.”

“Not at all.” He shoveled more fries into his mouth.

“What if someone were suffering from post natal depression? Would that make the possibility that the injuries were inflicted without premeditation more likely?”

“Most definitely. In the majority of the cases I’ve studied, post natal depression has been present. And proven to be a contributory factor.”

“Equally, some other type of mental health condition could also trigger this kind of attack, isn’t that true?” Radcliffe said, obviously keen to derail Ingrid’s theory that Carrie Foster might have been responsible.

“What sort of condition are you talking about?”

“A bout of rage caused by post traumatic stress disorder?”

“Not something I’ve come across personally. Not really my area. But yes, of course, there have been cases. I’ve read about them in the papers, just like everyone else.”

“But again, that wouldn’t point to premeditation,” Ingrid suggested.

Ryland put down his cutlery for the first time, picked up his glass and drank the last inch of beer just as the waitress arrived with a fresh pint. He looked from Ingrid to Radcliffe. “Are you two hoping to prove opposing theories?”

Neither of them