The Guilty Mother. Diane Jeffrey

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a long sigh. ‘No, I’m sorry. Melissa was vilified in the media when she was arrested. Everyone had made up their minds she was guilty long before she appeared in court. I’m hoping the media might be kinder to us this time round. I’ve read some of your articles about the case online, and, well, I know you try to report objectively.’

      I wince, as the headline of one of my articles springs to mind. SLADE: THE BABY SLAYER. And then another one: FROM COPPER TO KILLER. They hadn’t been my original headlines – I can’t remember them now. Claire’s predecessor had changed them as they weren’t sensational enough for his liking. He’d kept my impartial tone in the articles themselves, though.

      ‘I’ll do my best to stick to the facts,’ I say. ‘As I told you in my email, I’ve been asked to write about Melissa’s application for leave to appeal, but I’m not familiar with the ins and outs of it all.’ I need to brush up a bit more on the case itself, even though I covered it. I should have done that before meeting Goodman. I ought to get hold of the court transcripts, but I don’t really want to wade through them.

      ‘Well, as I’m sure you know, her conviction was upheld at the first appeal four years ago,’ he says, stroking his stubble. ‘But since then, we’ve uncovered fresh evidence and an application has been made to the Criminal Cases Review Commission. We have high hopes we’ll be granted another appeal.’

      Kelly comes back carrying a tray of mugs. I wait until she has sat down and we’re sipping our coffees. Then I ask, ‘May I ask what this new evidence is?’

      ‘The twins slept on mattresses that contained added fire retardant chemicals. Studies have shown that Sudden Infant Death Syndrome can be—’

      ‘Cot death?’ Kelly asks.

      ‘Yes. Cot death. Research shows it can be caused by toxic gases, which are the result of an interaction between these chemicals and common household fungi. A baby who sleeps on its tummy, like Amber did, would breathe in dense fumes. But even a baby who sleeps on its back would be repeatedly exposed to these potentially fatal gases.’

      ‘But this isn’t new,’ I say. I remember reading something about this before, back when Mel was expecting Noah. Mel was obsessed with doing everything right. We had read up about SIDS, so we bought a mattress along with a special cover for it. And Mel made me give up smoking. ‘Surely they banned mattresses containing those chemicals?’

      ‘No, it’s not new. And yes, the chemicals were banned. Eventually. But Melissa’s ex-husband—’

      ‘Ex-husband?’

      ‘Yes. Well, he wasn’t then. He is now. She divorced him.’

      ‘Of course.’ I nod knowingly, although this is news to me.

      ‘As I was saying, her second husband was a bit of a cheapskate by all accounts.’ Dislike flashes across his face, but he quickly hides it. ‘He decorated the babies’ bedroom to surprise Melissa. The mattresses he got were brand new, but they didn’t conform to British Safety Standards. Michael says he doesn’t remember where he bought them.’

      ‘So, are you saying that the mattresses weren’t tested at the time?’

      ‘No, they were analysed when Melissa was arrested. They found phosphine, arsine and stibine in the air immediately above the mattresses.’ I stop him for a moment and ask him to spell all three gases. When I’ve written them down, he adds, ‘It’s just that the evidence presented in court against Melissa was more compelling.’

      ‘Then I don’t get it,’ I say. ‘What are the grounds for Melissa’s appeal this time? What’s this new evidence?’

      He takes a deep breath. ‘In Ellie’s post-mortem, high levels of antimony were found in her liver and body tissue from the flame retardant in the mattress,’ he explains. ‘We’ve only recently managed to get hold of the toxicology report. This information wasn’t disclosed to Melissa’s defence team and, as you can imagine, it could be considered exculpatory evidence.’

      ‘Let me get this straight,’ I say. ‘New evidence has been uncovered that points towards cot death, and it is in fact old evidence that was somehow buried? Is that what you’re saying?’

      ‘That’s the gist of it, yes.’ Simon drains his coffee, glancing at his watch as he does so. ‘I have to go, I’m afraid.’ As he stands up, he adds, ‘You can always send me an email if there’s anything else you’d like to know.’

      When Simon Goodman has left, I huddle over my notebook, ostensibly to scribble down a few more notes, but really to collect my thoughts. Talking to Goodman has made me uncomfortable. The whole Melissa Slade case is bringing up memories that I want to leave alone. I don’t want to associate her past with mine. I wish I hadn’t allowed Claire to push me into covering this case.

      Putting down my pen a few seconds later and looking up, I notice Kelly furrowing her brows. I realise this is all rather technical. It’s hardly surprising she’s lost.

      ‘That was complicated, wasn’t it?’ It comes out sounding patronising and I instantly regret my question.

      ‘No, I followed everything he said about cot death and the poisonous gases and the new evidence that has come to light. It’s not that.’

      ‘Then what?’

      ‘What I don’t understand is that he said Amber slept on her stomach …’ She pauses mid-sentence, apparently thinking something through.

      ‘Yes, I don’t know why. You’re supposed to sleep babies on their backs.’

      Kelly shakes her head. ‘That’s not what I meant,’ she says. ‘Superintendent Goodman said Amber breathed in the fumes directly, but then he talked about the results of Ellie’s post-mortem. And he mentioned twins. Did he get them muddled up?’

      ‘No, he didn’t,’ I reply, realising it’s my fault that Kelly’s confused. I’ve given her a piecemeal account of the events.

      ‘Then, which one died?’

      ‘I’ll start again from the beginning,’ I say, ‘and this time I’ll tell you the whole story.’

       Chapter 6

       Scene Break

       Melissa

       April – July 2012

      When a baby dies unexpectedly, there’s always a thorough investigation. The police interviewed everyone who had been in the house when Amber died. I’d recognised the officer who asked me the questions, although I hadn’t known his name until he introduced himself. Constable Patrick Carter. Tall and skinny with short ginger hair, he was sympathetic and kind towards both Michael and me. A young female constable took notes during the interview.

      Even though the police came to our home and I was sitting on my own sofa, it was unsettling to be the one answering the questions instead of asking them. There were lots

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