“Oh Jesus.” Maddie started to laugh, a hollow laugh that turned into a howl. “We’re losing our son, and you wanted to help a nurse. Which in turn has implicated you in a criminal offense. You are…You are such a cretin sometimes, Pete. Always trying to be the good guy. Always—” She stopped suddenly. “Is that all it was?”
“What do you mean?” I said, even though I knew exactly what she meant.
“Is there anything between you and Bronagh that I should know about?” she demanded.
I looked her in the eye. “No. No, absolutely not.”
And that was true, if you were thinking like a lawyer and taking her question at its face value. There was nothing she should know about. Very much the reverse, in fact.
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Case no. 12675/PU78B65, Exhibit 34: Facebook Messenger exchange between Bronagh Walsh and Peter Riley, deleted by Peter Riley the next day and by Bronagh Walsh two years later.
Hey Pete, how’s tricks? The bike ride looks amaaaaazing!!! Actually going to be in York next w/e with some friends on a hen so we might look you lot up! We’re all qualified nurses so can tend to any walking (cycling?) wounded!!
Thanks Bronagh. Plenty of sore calves, aching groins & pulled muscles over here but we’re plowing on. Determined to make the target for the NICU!
Put like that it’s almost our duty to come around and patch you up isn’t it!!! (Hmm probably can’t do much for the pulled muscles or sore calves…)
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MADDIE
THE DAILY MAIL ARTICLE appears on page eight, below a picture of a hunted-looking Pete. TIMES JOURNALIST “STOLE BABY”—BUT STILL WANTS OUR NHS TO PAY is the headline. It quotes the most damning bits of NHS Resolution’s report, as well as parts of the article Pete himself wrote, the one he’d told them couldn’t be printed yet, in which he’d described how traumatic it had been finding out about the mix-up. In this new context, it seems chillingly self-interested—a brazen attempt to paint himself as a victim, in order to prize more money out of the health service. Theo isn’t identified by name, “for legal reasons,” but instead is described as “Child X, an adorable toddler with a huge grin and an exuberant zest for life.”
As for why Pete stole him, the article makes it clear that Pete’s a cold-blooded, quick-thinking monster who saw an opportunity to foist his vulnerable, brain-damaged baby on someone else, then tried to profit from his own villainy to boot. Toward the end of the piece is a quote from an “expert,” some pop psychologist who’s appeared on various morning-TV programs. “I wouldn’t be surprised if this turns out to be an example of ‘hero syndrome,’ ” he says helpfully. “We see it sometimes with firefighters and policemen, creating crises and setting fires purely in order to be the one who averts disaster and is admired as a result. But increasingly, we’re also seeing it with those who want to be perfect parents or caregivers.” The apparent contradiction between Pete as a heartless monster and Pete as someone who wants to be admired for his parenting skills is completely ignored, of course.
Pete himself seems utterly shell-shocked. That it’s a newspaper, his old industry, doing this to him only adds insult to injury. He becomes very quiet, his eyes wide, poleaxed and bewildered.
Anita recommends a colleague specializing in criminal law, who arranges for Pete to attend a police interview voluntarily. We should get our initial response in quickly, the new solicitor says, even though his advice relating to the interview itself is identical to Justin Watts’s: Answer “no comment” to everything, in the hope the police will decide the allegation is unprovable either way. I can tell Pete hates that strategy, and at the slightest encouragement from me would abandon it. By nature he’s someone who likes to cooperate, to be well thought of by authority figures. And we’ve all seen video footage of child molesters and serial killers monotonously answering “no comment” to the police’s questions, the implication being that they’re too callous even to admit their own crimes. I make sure I back the lawyer’s strategy every inch of the way.
This new solicitor, Mark Cooper, charges £220 an hour plus VAT.
I’d expected the police investigation to be as slow and Byzantine as every other part of the legal processes we’re now embroiled in. But while Pete is attending the interview, the doorbell rings. On the doorstep are a uniformed police sergeant, a WPC, and a