Friday 11:00 - Val

A subtle beep announced that the outer door of Marrenforth East police station had opened. Desk Sergeant Val Carter, sitting behind the desk, looked up from the newspaper she was reading to see the inner door open. Through it came an overweight woman with sandy hair, towing behind her a young boy of about five who was wearing a white T-shirt bearing the word 'Hugs'.

Val wondered what it would be this time. Had an older child taken the kid's yo-yo? Was it another missing cat? Marrenforth was hardly a crime hotspot. Val put down the newspaper, stood up and adopted her best 'helping the public' smile.

"Good morning, madam," she said, "What seems to be the problem?"

The woman ignored her and went straight to the row of chairs that lined one side of the room.

"There you go, Sammy," she said. "Sit here and wait. That's it, good boy. Now stay quiet while mummy talks to the nice police lady. You're safe here, the nasty man can't get you."

After making sure the boy was seated, she turned and walked up to the desk.

"My Sammy's just been attacked! You need to do something about it!"

Well, this was different. Marrenforth was normally mercifully free of kiddy-fiddlers. Val's professional smile was replaced by a genuine look of concern. Her eyes flicked to the boy, who had closed his eyes and seemed to be sleeping. Then she looked back at his mother.

"I'm sorry to hear that. What happened?" She picked up a pencil; she preferred to take notes on paper, then enter them into the computer system afterwards.

"Well, we'd been in the park. Sammy likes playing on the swings there. Sometimes I give him a push, but usually he prefers to just swing gently by himself. Or he chases the pigeons. Never catches them of course. So I sit on the bench and watch."

"And somebody attacked Sammy in the park?"

"No. But they might have done. There was some funny business going on in the trees. Doggies or whatever they call themselves. Well, I don't want Sammy exposed to that sort of thing, not at his age. Could scar him for life. So I took him out of the park."

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"So nothing happened in the park?"

"No, I just told you. We left the park. We went to the shop round the corner and I bought Sammy some chocolate. I try not to let him eat too much sugar, not good for his teeth, so I buy him chocolate instead of sweets."

She paused for breath. Val was about to ask if anything had happened in the shop, but thought better of it and just waited.

"Well," the woman continued, "After that I said we could go and look in the big toyshop. It's his birthday next month, so I thought we could talk about what he wanted. See if I could get him to make a decision rather than keep changing his mind. You know what they're like at that age, always after the latest fad."

"And at the toyshop?"

"We never got there! We were walking along the street. Well, I was walking, Sammy was running ahead. He always gets excited about the toyshop. He wasn't looking where he was going and bumped into a man's legs. Most people smile when they see a youngster, but I was ready to say 'sorry' just in case. I was brought up to be polite and I want Sammy to learn good manners as well. But when the man turned round, he didn't say anything. Just stared. His face looked all wrong, I think he might have been on drugs or something. So I ran up and grabbed Sammy. As I did so, that filthy junkie lowered his head and tried to bite him! Bite my poor Sammy! I only just pulled him out of the way in time. Who knows what might have happened if I hadn't been there. The junkie looked like he was going to have another go, so I took Sammy and ran away. Once we were safe, we came here as quickly as we could. I wanted to report it so you could send someone to arrest that man, get him off the streets before he hurts anyone."

"Very sensible, Ma'am," Val said, knowing that the chances of getting a good description of the assailant, let alone locating him, were slim. "But before we deal with that, how is your son? Was he hurt at all?"

"No, he's fine. He got a scratch on his arm from the horrible man's teeth, nothing serious. I mean, at his age they're always getting scratches and bruises, it's part of growing up. Makes you stronger, that's what my father always used to say. He's been rather quiet but I reckon that's shock. It was a really scary thing for a young boy like him to have to go through."

"Of course. I'm sure he's a very brave boy. I should take a look at him, even if it is only a scratch. I'll put some disinfectant on it just in case. And we should probably get the on-call doctor to check him out properly."

Val took the first aid box from the shelf behind her, opened the flap in the desk and walked over to the chair where Sammy was sitting.

The boy's eyes were still closed. She could see the scratch on his left arm, she could imagine him raising it to protect himself as his mother lifted him up and inadvertently moved him closer to the attacker's mouth. The scratch looked pretty deep but at least it wasn't bleeding. Once she'd cleaned it up, she'd try to persuade the mother to wait while she called in the doctor.

"How are you feeling, Sammy?" Val asked gently. There was no reply.

"Sammy. Sammy!" his mother called out. "The nice police lady is talking to you. Open your eyes and answer her."

The boy didn't respond. Val frowned. He really was very quiet. Very still. She reached out and touched his cheek.

Cold. She squatted down in front of the chair and leant her head down to listen to his chest.

As Val bent over, Sammy's eyelids snapped apart to reveal lifeless grey eyes. His mouth opened and he uttered a savage snarl. Before Val could react, Sammy lunged forwards and clamped his teeth around her throat, ripping and tearing her flesh.

Both women screamed.

Val's scream was cut short when Sammy's milk teeth severed her windpipe. Blood poured from the gaping wound as she collapsed to the ground.

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