Who killed baby Troy?
Danielle and Troy
Thursday 28th June 2007
It was a shame to disturb them when they looked so happy. But, desperate for a cuddle before my 6-month-old grandson, Troy, went to bed, I plucked him from my daughter Danielle's lap.
'Come to Grandma,' I cooed.
I blew a raspberry on his cheek and he giggled. Troy's smile could melt the hardest heart. He had us wrapped round his little finger.
As Danielle went upstairs, I could hear her singing to Troy, 'You're beautiful, it's true…' It was her favourite song by James Blunt. Danielle was such a good mum, I'd forget she was just a child herself.
At 16, she should have still been at school, not changing nappies. But she was a natural mother. I'd spotted her pregnancy back in June 2005. She'd been complaining about putting on weight. Then, one morning, I looked at her and noticed her swollen belly.
'Are you pregnant?' I gasped.
'No!' she protested.
But I marched her straight to the doctor's surgery, and a test confirmed she was six months' gone.
'But I've been having periods,' Danielle wailed.
'It can happen,' the GP shrugged.
I was furious. How could she have been so stupid?
At just 15, she was studying for her GCSEs.
But, sensing Danielle's panic, I gave her a big hug.
'We'll cope,' I assured her.
Apart from Danielle, I had four other kids, Heather, 30, Debbie, 29, Robert, 27, and Mark, 22. Only Danielle still lived at home, but I knew the others would help us. Then there was Danielle's boyfriend, Sherwain Smith, 19. The young pair had only been together for six months.
'You'd better tell him he's going to be a dad,' I told her.
'I know,' she wept.
I'd expected fireworks and tears, but Sherwain surprised me.
'That's great news,' he'd grinned.
When my beautiful 5lb 9oz grandson arrived, Sherwain was the proudest dad. He was out of work, so he never had much money. But he showed he cared by coming round every day and taking Troy for walks. The couple were young, but they were in love. Danielle was even planning to move into Sherwain's third-floor flat, just round the corner from us in Smethwick.
The following night, arriving home from my cleaning job, I hoped to grab another cuddle with Troy before Danielle put him to bed. But I was too late. Danielle and Sherwain crept down the stairs.
'Troy's asleep,' Sherwain said. 'He drifted off before we could change him.'
'Bless him,' I chuckled.
'Do you mind babysitting, so I can pop round to Sherwain's to watch a DVD?' Danielle asked.
'Well, OK,' I said.
Troy was such a good-natured baby, and he was never any bother.
'I'll leave the door unlocked,' I added. 'But make sure you're not too late back. I've got work in the morning.'
'OK,' Danielle smiled.
I watched telly for a while, but by 9.45pm, I was falling asleep, so I headed off to bed. Upstairs, I crept into Danielle and Troy's bedroom, and peered into his cot.
He was half-asleep, but waved a chubby little fist at me.
'It's not playtime,' I whispered, switching on his cot mobile.
I fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow. The next morning, my alarm clock woke me at 6am. Wearily dragging myself out of bed, I knocked lightly on Danielle's bedroom door.
'Cup of tea?' I asked.
She didn't answer, so I gently pushed open the door and stuck my head into the room.
My eyes flicked from Danielle's bed to Troy's cot. Empty.
Downstairs, I expected to find a note explaining where they'd gone, but there wasn't one.
Thanks a bunch, I thought. You'd have thought she'd have let me know that she'd taken Troy out so early in the morning. Fuming, I got ready for work, then left my own note on the kitchen table. Why didn't you wake me to say you were taking Troy? I wrote.
Danielle was a brilliant young mum, but it was at times like this I was reminded she could be an irresponsible teenager, too.
Danielle takes up the story:
It was the first time I'd been out for six months. I should have been making the most of my freedom, but all those night feeds had finally caught up with me. It was only 10pm, but
I was exhausted already.
'Aren't you enjoying the film?' Sherwain asked.
'I'm so tired,' I mumbled.
Even the gorgeous Keanu Reeves couldn't keep me awake.
Within 10 minutes, I was going, going, gone…
'W-what time is it?' I spluttered, suddenly jerking awake.
The telly was switched off and Sherwain was sprawled on the settee beside me, snoring. I squinted at the clock on the DVD player. It was 4am.
It was too late for me to walk home now. But I had to get back before Mum left for work. A couple of hours later, I opened my eyes to Sherwain's smiling face.
'Morning, sleepyhead,' he smiled down at me.
'I was supposed to go home last night,' I said, scrambling to my feet.
'It's all right,' he shrugged.
'No it's not!' I snapped.
I was a parent now, and I had to put Troy first.
Seeing Sherwain's sulky face, I couldn't help but think he resented that. It was obvious he doted on his son, but sometimes I felt he wanted me all to himself again. We raced round to Mum's house, but there was no one home. Mum had left a note asking why I hadn't told her I was taking Troy. What was she talking about?
'I didn't take Troy!' I shrieked.
Sherwain seemed to be as confused as I was.
'He's probably at your sister's,' Sherwain said.
Why would Heather take Troy without telling anyone? Still, it was worth a shot. I raced round to Heather's house.
'Of course he's not here,' she cried.
Panic exploded.
'Then somebody must have snatched him!' I screamed.
Heather phoned Mum, and we arranged to meet at Smethwick Police Station. Within 15 minutes, Heather, Mum and I were frantically talking over one another as two officers listened to us.
'Please find him,' I sobbed.
After that, we were taken to separate rooms for questioning. My interview started gently,
then suddenly, the tone changed.
'You took him, didn't you?' the detective barked.
'No!' I gasped.
'You've killed him, haven't you?' the officer persisted.
'Of course not,' I spluttered.
I wouldn't ever harm Troy.
But the officers' accusations kept coming, and suddenly, it hit home — they truly believed I'd murdered my little boy. I shook with horror.
'You're wasting time,' I wept. 'Please start looking for him.'
My pleas were ignored.
A few hours later, I was charged with my son's murder and perverting the course of justice.
'Where's my mum?' I asked.
'She's also been charged,' they said. 'And your boyfriend.'
That night, I had a fitful sleep. Who would have snatched Troy from his cot?
I dreaded to think.
The next day, on the way to court, the news was on the radio.
'The body of a baby has been found,' the newsreader announced.
An officer pulled me aside.
'Troy's body has been found in a brook near your house,' he told me.
Imagine being told your son is dead, then being bundled back into a court cell? If I hadn't gone into shock, I would have gone mad.
'Find the real killer!' I screamed, as they slammed the door on me.
I knew for certain Mum wouldn't have hurt her grandson.
And Sherwain had been with me that night. Anyway, why would he harm his son?
But that word, 'son', made me blush with a deep shame. The truth was, I'd been hiding
a guilty secret ever since I'd found out I was pregnant. Sherwain wasn't Troy's dad, and only I knew it. When I'd discovered I was expecting, I'd worked out the conception must have coincided with a brief fling I'd had.
Petrified I'd lose Sherwain, I'd kept it quiet.
'I'm a bad person,' I wept now.
Somewhere, Sherwain was in a cell, grieving for his 'son'. How was he going to feel when he found out he wasn't actually Troy's dad? I knew the police would find out, as they'd taken DNA samples, so I volunteered the information.
Five days later, when Mum and I were shoved into the same cell, I told her, too. But it was the least of her worries.
'I just can't believe Troy's gone,' she wept.
Together, we went over that fateful night. We didn't understand why Troy hadn't cried when his abductor had taken him out of his cot. Then it hit us — had he known his killer?
Two days later, we appeared at Birmingham Crown Court. The murder charges had been dropped, but we were now being charged with perverting the course of justice. Three weeks later, we were both allowed out on bail. I was sent to stay with my dad, Tony, 47, and Mum went to her sister's. Both lived in Birmingham.
Sherwain was still being held at Brinsford Prison, Wolverhampton. Had he been told he wasn't Troy's dad yet? I wondered.
I thought I couldn't deal with any more trauma but, that August, my solicitor had news.
'All charges against you and your Mum have been dropped,' he told me. 'But Sherwain's been charged with Troy's murder.'
'They've got the wrong man,' I gasped, shocked.
But only a jury would be able to make that decision now.
Whenever we left the house, people shot us accusing stares.
'Baby killers!' they'd hiss.
We'd been cleared, but people still thought we'd murdered Troy. In February 2007, Sherwain appeared at Birmingham Crown Court and pleaded not guilty to murdering Troy.
'I know you're innocent,' I mouthed across the court.
But then the evidence began to unfold…
Troy had been found in Thimblemill Brook, 400 yards from our house. He'd been wrapped
in a bin liner, then put inside a sports bag from JD Sports. Soil from the brook matched samples found on Sherwain's shoes. There was also a match between Sherwain's DNA and the bin liner Troy had been found in.
'No!' I gasped.
He'd been with me that night…
But, as the prosecution pointed out, I'd fallen asleep around 10pm and didn't wake until 4am, giving Sherwain six hours to kill Troy.
'Why?' I wept.
At the time, he'd have thought he was killing his own son. Sick!
The pathologist hadn't been able find the cause of Troy's death. But the jury found Sherwain
guilty of manslaughter. Jailing him indefinitely, the judge said: 'You set out in the early hours with the objective of doing something with or to Troy… your actual motive will never be known.'
I've racked my brain for what Sherwain's motive could have been. It came out in court that he'd had 'psychotic moments' in the past. It was news to me. He'd always been so gentle towards Troy and me. Maybe he'd wanted me to himself. But to kill a baby through jealousy?
Not a day goes by that I don't regret falling asleep at Sherwain's flat. But how was I to know I had a baby killer in my midst?
Sean's fatal toyboy fantasy
Forced to rob a bank