He nodded. He snatched the child from her arms and thrust it behind him. He leaned, his face close to the
woman's. He said, brutally:
"Come clean, Mollie! Why did you kill John?"
For a moment the woman stood, uncomprehending. Then a tremor shook her. The fear vanished from
her eyes and fury took its place. She threw herself upon McCann, fists beating at his face. He caught her,
pinioned her arms. The child screamed.
The woman's body relaxed, her arms fell to her sides. She crumpled to the floor, her head bent over her
knees. And tears came. McCann would have lifted, comforted her. I stopped him.
"Let her cry. It's the best thing for her."
And after a little while she looked up at McCann and said, shakily: