She had been out with us for the evening at a local theatre group's pantomime. Her husband Alan had cried off. He had a heavy cold, or influenza as he called it, and hadn't wanted to go. He said he would go to bed early and try to sleep it off.When we returned Helen invited us in for a coffee. She went to check on Alan and found him dead. The inquest had been a nine-day wonder in the town. Helen had found Alan with his head tightly wrapped inside her voluminous cotton nightdress. There had been some suggestion that he might have been experimenting with autoeroticism. A forensic scientist had disproved that. It was demonstrated that Alan could have breathed easily through the single layer that was covering his head. He could have breathed through two layers. He could not have breathed through four layers but, large though Helen's nightdress was, it could not have been wrapped tightly around Alan's head with four layers covering his face.The autopsy revealed that Alan had a weak heart.. . . he threatened me.’ Bobby quickly turned to his dad. ‘She’s lying!’ He hissed out under his breath. ‘Yeah, but why?’ Mike quickly shot back. Bobby just shook his head until he remembered the exchange he watched when she came in. ‘They must have something on her, blackmailing her!’ He whispered. ‘What?’ ‘I saw Winters talking to her when they came in, she didn’t look happy.’ Mike shook his head. ‘No, I don’t believe it, she would never protect herself over Don and . . . damn!’ What’s wrong?’ Bobby asked as he saw his dad’s head spin around. ‘Grace isn’t here!’ He whispered out at Bobby as they both looked around trying to find the little girl. Suddenly he grabbed his son and pulled him close to him. ‘She would die to protect Grace, I know it. They must have her, but she can’t be far . . . you have to find her now!’ Bobby nodded and sprung to his feet. Bryce noticed the movement and swung his head around. Bobby caught his eye and motioned for him to follow him out. After the doors.
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