Cuddles 31:59

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My dad works in B2B marketing. He came by my school for career day and said he was a big ROAS man. Then he told everyone how much he loved calculating his return on ad spend.

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Unseeing.

Welcome to Mayfair Watchers Society. For the recording, state your name. Bob Skinner. Uh, Robert. So I know you've gone through this with the officers at the scene, but so we have it all in one place, go through what happened tonight. Sure. Uh, I was driving past Mayfair, up towards the turnpike. I've been making deliveries since the morning, and it was...

Going on 11. I realized I was busting for a piss. Oh, can I say that? Should I say pee? It's fine. If you heard some of what's been said in this interview room, you'd need a shower. Okay. No, I needed a piss, so I found a place I could pull over and went to take a leak. It's all trees around there, so I just went out of sight of the road and, you know, did my business. Then I heard something. Something? Thought it was an animal. It wasn't real loud. Then I heard it again, and I thought...

Is that a kid crying? Then there's me still zipping up trying to decide if I should go find what it is or if I should just say hey, it ain't my problem and I want to get home and watch the game. Thank God I decided to be a good citizen for once. And you didn't hear anything else or see anyone in the area? No, nothing. It was dark though. Could have been someone further back in the trees. Definitely felt there was no one else there though. Any vehicles?

It's a road. Sure, there are vehicles. Nothing that stood out, though. Nothing else pulled over. I see. We have officers going over the area you described, so if there's anything unusual there, we'll find it. Go on. I followed the noise, and there was definitely a kid crying. I had a light on my phone, so I looked for whatever it was, and after a couple minutes, found it at the foot of the tree, just lying there.

I don't know from babies, but it looked real young. Newborn, maybe. Not crawling yet. It was in one of those stretchy onesies. I thought, well, crap, Bob. What are you going to do now? Am I supposed to walk it through my front door and say, hey, Angie, we got a baby now? But then I come to my senses, pick it up, and take it to the van so I can get it to the hospital. I could have stayed there and called an ambulance, I guess, but...

I couldn't leave it lying on the ground, so I had to pick it up anyway. And once I'd done that, I decided I might as well get it warm and safe myself. Did the baby look hurt or sick? Not to me, but like I said, what do I know about babies? It wasn't freezing cold or nothing, but lying out in the open like that for who knows how long, it couldn't be good for the kid. I called Angie and said I was going to be late.

I didn't say why, cause it would have sounded crazy to just spring it on her like that. She was freaked out enough when I told her from the hospital. Plus, I could hardly hear anything. The kid was screaming like a tornado siren from the passenger seat. Then I got there and carried it into the reception. I said, "You're not gonna believe it, but I found this baby on the side of the road." Then doctors and nurses and such come fussing around over it and tell me to stay until I can talk to you guys. Is it doing okay?

I didn't hear anything from the doctors. The baby is healthy. As far as they can tell, she isn't hurt. But they're keeping her in for observation before they can find a foster home until the parents can be identified. So it's a girl, huh? It's a girl. Why would someone abandon a kid like that? I get not being able to look after it. Sure, that happens. It shouldn't, but it does. But the mom or whoever didn't even try to make sure someone would find her.

What if I hadn't drank that coffee and didn't need to piss? She'd still be out there. If you ask me, even if you find the parents, I don't deserve her back. We're working on that. Now the child's safe, finding the family is our priority. Can you test for it? You can do DNA, right? I can, but without anyone to compare it to, it doesn't do us much good. Plus, this state still has a backlog. It can take a while. Huh. I thought it was, like, a couple of hours.

Might be on TV. The real world is a lot less efficient. So, uh, you still need me? You can go, Mr. Skinner. We have your contact details. We'll be in touch if we need anything more. Can you let me know how she does? Like, if you find her mom or whatever? You don't have to give me the details. I just want to know she's okay. I feel kind of responsible. I'll keep you in the loop if there are any developments. And don't let her go back to whoever dumped her there.

Every kid deserves better than that. That's got it. You on? Testing, testing. Baby FM is on the air. Debs? Debs, did you hear that? Loud and clear. Then bring her up. This is the presidential suite, madame. Only the best for you. Just scream and room service will bring you a boob immediately. Or a bottle of breast milk if it's not the boob carrier's turn. Here we go.

Finally looks like a proper bedroom for a baby. Thanks for putting in the work Lance. No, I think you're the one who did the real work. No one did more than anyone else. We're a team, remember? Sure. Team Polly. Team Polly. And I think Team Polly has earned some time watching some bad TV and drinking wine. What do you think? As long as Her Highness doesn't have other ideas. Look, do us a favor and sleep for a while, okay kid?

Come on. Mommy needs to make best friends with the sofa. I appreciate giving us a while, but you couldn't wake up at a civilized hour? Fresh from the Casa del Refrigerator. One bottle of mommy juice, as ordered. Does madam approve? Well, looks like it. Look, do me a favor. Go easy on your mom. This is all new to both of us. She's worried there's a... She's worried she's not gonna do it.

Look, I know kids are made of rubber. I mean, they turn out okay, as long as you remember the basics. But she thinks there's some kind of recipe she has to follow that no one will teach her. So make her think she's got it right. Can you do that? For me? Team Polly would really appreciate it. I can hear you, Lance. Shit, I forgot this thing was on. Don't teach her bad language! Busted. I better head on back to the marital bed.

You good now? What, feeding not good enough? You don't need changing, what is it? Baby nightmares? Come here, shawmy. Cuddles beats milk, huh? That's worth remembering. You good now? Down you go. I gotta go. Daddy needs his beauty sleep. Goodnight, princess. Mommy's here. Dad's away working, just us girls here. I can only afford to take a couple of months off, and then we'll find a daycare for you.

I wish we could both be here for you 24/7, but the world doesn't work that way, I'm afraid. Polly? Polly, it's Mom. Do you recognize your mom? Over here, honey. See my hand? Can you touch my hand? Chill out, Polly. It's just Mom's friend. Deb! It's Carrie. Hey, Carrie. You caught me having some quality time with Polly. Aw, is she there? Hi, Polly! It's your Auntie Carrie.

Is she doing anything? Not really. Just kind of drooling. Just wait until I meet her in person. She will love me! She should recognize me and reach for things by now. Who says? I have a list of milestones. You know, when they crawl, when they talk. Oh, Dev, that stuff doesn't mean anything. For every baby that did all that stuff on time, there's another one who took a month or three months or six months longer and turned out just fine.

You have enough on your plate without letting some fake baby expert invent new things for you to worry about. I know. I just... I guess I just thought there would be some kind of rule book. You'd think with all the billions of babies who have been raised in history, there would be a pretty comprehensive list of what you're supposed to do, but there isn't.

because they're all different. And so are moms. Listen, my cousin had twins and she told me that every day you keep them alive is a win. It is the truest thing I know. You're spending time with her. You're doing all the right things.

I hope you're right. I just still can't believe I'm responsible for this whole person. I'm not solely responsible. How's Lance doing? Fine. He's back at work. I hope Polly doesn't miss him. He's better at calming her down than I am. Just picks her up and she chills out.

Don't you, honey? Yeah, you're a big fan of Dad's Cuts. Think she's gonna be a daddy's girl? Who knows? Everyone says she looks more like me. I don't see it. Unless I look like a tiny Winston Churchill. When can I meet her face to face? We'll sort something out. You and Peter can come around for coffee, and I'll come up with an excuse. Peter's not around anymore. Oh.

Sorry. No problem. You can't be blamed for not keeping up with the gossip, Deb. Why do you need an excuse? I don't know. It just feels more natural if there's some particular reason I can tell Lance other than just because. He doesn't like me. It's not that. I just, I don't want to rock the boat. He seems really tired. Looking after her and being back at work, it's really taking it out of him.

Do what you think's best. Ooh, honey, what now? You can't be hungry. You need changing? What better leave you to attend to her ladyship? Thanks. Sorry. I hate to be rude. Don't be a stranger, okay? Speak soon. Bye, Carrie. Sorry, Ollie girl. Daddy's not here right now. Hey, it's Trevor Henderson here with an ad break. If you'd like to get early and ad-free access to Mayfair Watchers Society, consider supporting us on the Apollo Podcast app.

This episode is brought to you by Shopify. Whether you're selling a little or a lot, Shopify helps you do your thing however you cha-ching. From the launch your online shop stage all the way to the we just hit a million orders stage. No matter what stage you're in, Shopify's there to help you grow. Sign up for a $1 per month trial period at shopify.com slash special offer all lowercase. That's shopify.com slash special offer. And now back to our show.

Good evening, Princess. Time for a midnight snack? Or are you just after some quality daddy time? Rest your head on daddy's chest. That's what you needed, huh? Just some good old dad vibes. How is she? The last few days she's been so fussy. I was worried it was colic. She's fine, honey. I got this. You go to bed. I'll stay for a while. Dad can't monopolize all the love. I got this.

She's my daughter, Lance. She'll come round to you, just give her time. We said this would be equal. Look, I'm not going to apologize for soothing my princess. I-I know. I'm sorry. I-I'm just worried. That's all. Don't be. I got this. Polly? Honey? It's Mommy. Do you recognize Mommy? Lance? What's that? What? There. Just under your collarbone. Nothing.

Must be a shaving cut. You were shaving your collarbones? Picked it up at work, maybe? You're a software engineer. Then I don't know. Bleeding. Did you just do it? It's nothing. I'll get something to clean it up. It's right where you hold her. I don't want you bleeding on our baby. She sure does worry, huh? But we know there's nothing to worry about. You want some alone time? Just us? Me too. Ah!

There. Father and daughter against the world. Just us two. You want up on daddy's shoulders? Sure, here you go. Hey, you like that. Daddy's neck. You want daddy's neck? Sure. You're my princess. Go ahead. Just what a growing girl needs. I can't open the door. Is there something on the other side?

It's fine, honey. I got this. She was just hungry. Open the door, man. Lance? Lance! Lance! What happened? Lance! Lance, can you hear me? I'll get an ambulance. Hang in there. I'll get you hope. What happened to the window? Polly! Polly! Lance! Where's Polly? Polly!

There he is. Hey, officer! Officer! You're the cop working this case, right? May I ask who you are, ma'am? It's not me. This is her. This is the mother. I'm Deborah Colley. Is she here? Take a seat. I'll get someone to talk to you. Bullshit! You talk to her. It's her kid, for Christ's sake. Don't palm us off on some uniform. Deborah Colley. Your husband was Lance Colley. Is that correct? Was. Yes.

I'm sorry for your loss. We'll find out what happened. Where is my daughter? Your daughter is being looked after. She asked where. It's okay, Carrie. They think I had something to do with her going missing. They always assume it's the parents until they find out otherwise. It's not okay. Is she in the hospital? Is she here? The station? She's with a foster family. The state has a number of trusted foster carers who can take vulnerable children temporarily.

She couldn't be in better hands. I promise you that when we find out everything that happened, she'll be back with you. And if you don't find out? We will. Your husband's death is Mayfair PD's top priority alongside Polly's welfare. Has an officer taken a statement from you?

Sergeant. Sergeant Kelleher.

Sergeant, at least tell us how Polly is. Someone must have taken her. They said she wasn't hurt, but they always say that. Polly is unhurt and well. You have my word on that. I came here when she was first brought in. She was screaming as healthily as a baby can. I should be with her. Where was she? I looked in the yard and the street outside, but she couldn't find her. Was it the police who found her?

No, she was brought in by a driver who spotted her by the side of the road. Outside the house? Yeah, by the turnpike heading towards the city. But that's like five miles away! She was in the trees just off the road. Whoever put her there hadn't harmed her, but she was lucky to be found. Do you have any idea how she might have got there, Mrs. Colley? I hardly even know where you mean. I think I've driven through there a couple of times. Why would they leave her there?

When we look at your car, Mrs. Colley, are our officers going to find anything that will tell them that you were there? Oh my god, she didn't dump the kid in the woods. Someone broke into the house, killed Lance, and stole Polly. I'm sorry, but that's what we're saying happened, right? I guess so. It happened so fast. I didn't see anyone, but there could have been. I went downstairs to get something to clean up Lance's cut and then...

The door was blocked and I heard him fall and then the window and Polly was gone. I'll have the staff find you an empty room where you can have some privacy, Mrs. Colley. No, no. I want to see my daughter. You will. Only if you decide I didn't murder my husband and try to, I don't know, throw my baby girl away. That's what you think happened, isn't it? We're not assuming anything. We're keeping all the possibilities open until we have the evidence to be sure.

It had to be someone else. Debs has never been out of sight. She was with the ambulance, and then she was here. There is no way she could have driven five miles and abandoned Pauly and got back here without anyone noticing. Tonight? Yes, tonight. When else? You're Cassandra Lotz, am I correct? Yeah, I gave my name to the doctor and the cops. Miss Lotz, Mrs. Colley, there's something that has concerned me about the information you have given me so far.

I think there must have been a misunderstanding somewhere. What misunderstanding? Polly was found nine days ago. She spent the last seven with a foster carer. She was there tonight. We checked with them the moment your incident was called in. Nine days? Then who has been in our crib? The subject is a 27-year-old man, Lance Cawley, brought in about 14 hours ago in a suspected homicide.

First impressions: he's in reasonable shape, no evidence of chronic illness or injury, lividity is minimal, and rigor is gone. A single wound on the left side of the upper chest, two centimeters below the collarbone. It has a round entry with a ragged edges, significant redness around the wound, no scar tissue or coagulation. It's still fully open. It goes 40 to 50 millimeters deep.

Either it was perimortem or it was prevented from healing. Opened up deliberately, maybe? Unlike the opening, the inner sides of the incision are tough and granulated, like a passage deliberately kept open to provide access to the chest cavity. I'll have to be careful opening the chest to get a look at which structures were compromised by the wound.

I'd say it was inflicted by a long, thin implement, like a stiletto blade or even a barbecue skewer. Some grazing on the elbows and back of the head. The deceased wife said she found him collapsed, so it's probably from where he fell. A significant wound to the back of the neck between the C4 and C5 vertebrae. Similar to the one on the chest, the entrance is round and ragged and the wound deeply penetrative. The wound entered the spinal column at an angle, downwards, into the central canal. As a result...

It's difficult to tell the depth of the wound as the implement could have gone far into the canal. No healing at all. It was inflicted at the time of death and is a likely fatal wound. Multiple tiny superficial wounds around the entrance, like marks from little hooks. An initial look at the spinal column makes it likely the spinal cord was severed. I'll have to perform a full dissection to confirm. That would be a possible cause of death if it caused respiratory arrest. Something strange...

I tried to draw off some spinal fluid to look for blood. There wasn't any. I tried drawing it from a couple of different places, but there was none. I can't say for sure that the body has been drained of cerebrospinal fluid because it's not something we ever come across, hence something we're not trained to identify. Again, a full dissection will confirm this. I might ask one of our spinal surgeons to sit in and give their opinion. A severe enough CSF leak can be fatal.

That's another possible cause of death. The deceased was either the victim of the world's worst lumbar puncture procedure, or something happened to him that I can't name. I'm almost afraid to look inside the spine or the cranium. It's not often I've felt that way. Usually I'm eager to get it all ticked off and fill in the blanks. But this time, this time it feels like opening the basement door in a haunted house. I didn't have to check the paperwork to know where Lance Colley came from.

There it was, at the top of the form. Mayfair PD. Of course he died in Mayfair. You get an instinct for these things. One in a hundred cases is something you can't explain. From Mayfair, it's one in ten. Add Lance Cauley to the list. Another of Mayfair's ten percent. Thank you for listening, neighbor. Mayfair Watchers Society is based on the works of Trevor Henderson. Cuddles was written by Ben Counter.

The dialogue editor was Daisy McNamara. The sound designer was Brad Colbrook. Music was by Matt Royberger.

The showrunner is Pacific S. Obadiah, and the creative director is me, Trevor Henderson. Produced by Tom Owen and Brad Miska, A Bloody FM Show.