Death Rider (The Rider Series Book 2)

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Death Rider (The Rider Series Book 2) Page 17

by Samantha Bassett


  “What?” Suddenly I was awake. I sat up in bed.

  “Get your laptop and find the video. Call me back when you have it on screen.”

  * * *

  I grabbed my phone as it rang, I was back in the farmhouse kitchen and had my laptop open. “Amanda. Right, have you got the CCTV there? Yes, great, set it to the time Adam was getting the pitchfork.” I waited for a moment as Amanda found the right timestamp and played the images back. “Do you notice anything?”

  24

  Innocent Until Proven Wrong

  I slept badly. The noise of the prison quietened at night but there was never silence. The snores of my cellmates, the shouting and yelling from another part of the building, footsteps on the catwalks outside the locked door.

  I lay in the dark staring at the upper bunk. This was my life. I’d been told I could do some courses, maybe even get a degree. But as I had said, what good would that be? Who the hell would want to employ a murderer, and that was presuming I could survive twenty years stuck in this hell. And could I survive without Kate? Her face as she left, the disappointment in her eyes.

  I’d had another visit from my barrister, he wanted to tell me what to expect when my day finally came to go to court. I’d stopped him, did he think I had any chance at all of freedom. There had been an uncomfortable moment with him looking at his papers as if he didn’t know the answer, then he sighed. ‘Not at all’.

  I suppose I appreciated his honesty, but I wanted at least some hope and it was rapidly ebbing away. An inmate somewhere distant started singing loudly, there was a chorus of swearing and yells for him to shut up. The prison never really slept.

  * * *

  “Amanda are you there?”

  “I’m running through the images now, all I see is what I saw each time I’ve watched this. Adam in his Glebe Farm hoodie. He steps out of the toolshed, closes the door and then walks down the yard holding a pitchfork. I can’t see anything different? What am I looking for?”

  “Watch him leave the tool shed again.”

  “Look, Kate, I’ve watched it at least ten times now.

  “Amanda, just do it. Please, humour me.”

  “Okay. I’ve rewound the images. He’s inside and now he’s leaving. He just steps out of the shed…”

  “But, did he duck his head down as he stepped through the door?”

  “No, he didn’t… But why does that matter?”

  “Do you remember what happened on his first day he was there? I told you about the accident he had, you know, ‘the stupid accident’? We both laughed about it…”

  “Oh, crap! You’re right, he hit his head. The doorway was too low. He wasn’t looking and forgot to duck for the low doorway. He knocked himself out.”

  “So, tell me. If that was Adam on the CCTV footage, how come, if he doesn’t duck as he steps through the door, he didn’t hit his head?”

  * * *

  “DCI Jarvis?” I looked up and the desk sergeant waved towards me. “Good morning Ma’am, we had a strange telephone call last night from a Mrs Kate Bishop.” My heart sunk.

  “Shit!” I hissed under my breath before stopping and facing the sergeant. “Yes? And what did Mrs Bishop want?”

  “She said something about the murder case and that she had found something on the CCTV footage. Nothing more than that, but she did leave a number for you to call her back.”

  “Right, and when did she call?”

  “Just after four-thirty this morning.”

  I swore under my breath before taking the slip of proffered paper and walking upstairs to my office. John was already there and was deep in conversation on his phone, he waved a greeting as I sat down. I pulled my mobile out and dialled the number for Mrs Bishop, she picked up almost on the first ring.

  “Mrs Bishop, I understand… Woah, slow down! What are you talking about? Right, so you looked at the CCTV images? May I ask how you got hold of those? No, it is important! Right, so you are telling me that you have illegally accessed CCTV from an ongoing murder investigation… No, you stop! I’ll say it again. Do you realise that you accessing CCTV images from an ongoing murder case is illegal?”

  * * *

  “Explain that again?” Dan was looking at me incredulously.

  “Kate called last night.”

  “Yeah, I get that bit. I was asleep next to you. What were you saying about the CCTV?”

  “Right. The first day Adam was on Hilary’s yard he had an accident. As he walked out of the old toolshed, he didn’t realise the doorframe was really low. Yes…”

  “Okay, I get that. And you say he hit his head?”

  “He knocked himself out.”

  “Right… And this is important because?”

  “Look!” I turned the laptop around and replayed the images. “The person dressed in Adam’s hoodie doesn’t duck down to go through the door. They don’t need to, they’re shorter than him!”

  Dan leaned into the screen, replaying the images a couple of times before freezing it at the point when the person stepped out of the doorway.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Totally, he said they keep their mucking out tools in an old stone shed, the door is really low.”

  “Okay, so whoever is walking out of there is shorter than the doorway. Do you have any witnesses that saw him knock himself out on the door? I mean did he go to the hospital as that would be pretty conclusive?”

  “No, but if he’s taller, surely it won’t matter?

  “Look at the moment, it’s a long shot, the Yorkshire force might not even consider what you are saying. However, if you have a witness which can say he had an accident or someone who could corroborate Adam hit his head on the doorway because of its height… It just makes it a bit more compelling for them to look into it, to prove it is worth investigating. I guess there would have been CCTV footage of the original accident, but as it was more than a month ago it would have been automatically deleted from the server.”

  “Hilary’s groom was there, I suppose she could prove it happened, but she’s left now and I don’t know where. Please, in the meantime Dan, could you call the Yorkshire force, see if you could speak with the leading officer.”

  “Mandy, it’s really not my place to get involved…”

  “Please? For Kate, for me?”

  “Okay. I’ll do what I can. No promises.”

  * * *

  “DCI Jarvis?”

  “SP Anderson. How can I help you?”

  I picked up on the cold tone. There was no friendly greeting, I pretty much guessed why.

  “Tell me. Is this something to do with Bishop’s wife illegally accessing CCTV images? I’m sure you appreciate the position I’m in with this. It’s perverting the course of justice. I really hope you didn’t have a hand in her providing her with the password to the system?”

  “Kelly, I understand, but just for a moment, ignore how they got the footage. You’ve seen it, when Bishop steps out of the tool shed, he doesn’t duck down, but he’s too tall, the first day he was there he knocked himself out walking of there having hit his head. I presume you understand what it means.”

  “It means very little. You know we have compelling evidence against him, the fact-”

  “I understand… But!”

  “No, the fact that it looks as if the doorway is too low is neither here nor there. It’s a grainy picture, taken in the dark from a distance. Look, I understand you’re close to this. Maybe too close. I’m sorry, but the CPS is happy there is enough evidence for the case to stick. I know you’re trying to do your best for your fiancé, but you’re just giving them false hope. Now, unless you have something else, I’m very busy. You know I cannot accept the evidence his wife ‘found’. Fair warning Dan. I won’t press charges against the wife this once, but only because the password issue is common knowledge, but please tell them anymore interfering with this case and I will come down on them hard. And if I find you were involved in helping them, I’ll spare no time in repor
ting it to the anti-corruption team. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Crystal… Thank you, Kelly.”

  “I know you want to help, but as one copper to another, please let me do my job. Goodbye, Dan…”

  * * *

  “You have to understand why that policewoman was so angry. You illegally accessed CCTV footage which is a key piece of evidence in an ongoing murder trial. You have to understand why she reacted that way. Not least you are trying to tell them that they have made a really stupid mistake in their investigation.”

  “Amanda, they’ve made a mistake! It proves it wasn’t Adam that night!”

  “Look, Kate, maybe you should have gone to your barrister rather than directly to the police?”

  “I know that now… But I don’t want him to be in prison until his trial if it’s clear he didn’t do it. I’m going to try and find Sally.”

  “What her groom? How the hell are you going to do that? I thought you said you didn’t know where she had gone?”

  “Amanda, I’m clutching at straws! I don’t know where she is, but if I could find her. Look, just like Dan told you, if Sally can say he hit his head on the first day. It proves without a doubt that the person who we see on the CCTV walking out of the tool shed isn’t him, it might do something. Amanda, I can’t just sit here doing nothing…”

  “Okay, but how the hell are you going to find her?”

  How indeed? I had no idea where she had gone. I knew her name and who she had worked for, I could only hope that the equestrian world was small enough that someone might know her or where she may be.

  I had to start somewhere so I grabbed my laptop and opened Facebook.

  * * *

  “But what if she is right?”

  “John for fuck’s sake, don’t you start too! She called me up, out of the blue, telling me she has a copy of the CCTV footage from fuck knows where, and that her husband couldn’t be the killer as he is supposedly taller than the person on a grainy black and white image. It was only that I didn’t want to face a pile of paperwork that I didn’t have her arrested for perverting the course of justice.”

  “But the doorway thing, Kelly?”

  “John, if they want to bring this up as part of their defence, fine. We have enough on him, we’ve got prints, we have his necklace and his wife admitted that the jumper he was wearing was a one-off. The fact that, on a dark, out of focus CCTV image it looks like he didn’t duck for a doorway. Honestly, I expected more of you. No, for Christ’s sake John, start acting like a proper copper! Stop pissing about in cases that are all sewn up.”

  * * *

  I’d been staring at the computer screen for hours. Still nothing. However, what had I expected? A sudden flurry of people messaging me telling me that they knew where Sally was? And even then, what was I going to do? I suppose I would cross that bridge when I got to it.

  I’d told the barrister about the CCTV. He had been pretty non-committal, saying that, as interesting as it was. The fact it looked, from the angle of the camera, in the dark, that someone had been shorter than the doorway, wasn’t much to go on.

  He had been more interested in where I had got the images from and the fact that they may not be admissible now as we hadn’t followed the correct procedure. I’d burst into tears, frustrated at the whole experience and he had rung off.

  I closed the laptop, it was late. I needed to at least try to sleep, even though I knew I would toss and turn in bed and would wake as tired as before. I was coaching pupils like a zombie, I knew people were tolerating me at the moment, they understood the pressure I was under, but they were paying customers. How long people would remain tolerant when they weren’t getting the lessons they were paying for. I spent most of my time staring into space. Thank goodness Caroline was qualified, she was taking most of my lessons now. It wasn’t fair on her, but there wasn’t another option at the moment.

  Had I been stupid, contacting the police before anyone else? They had to be on the side of justice, I wasn’t sure I hadn’t made things worse. I was just desperate; I couldn’t keep doing this alone and if I had to do it with a child as well.

  I sighed; it was time for bed.

  25

  The Hunt is on

  I woke exhausted, feeling as if I hadn’t slept at all, which was pretty much true. My night had been restless, worrying about Adam, not sure what I should do. I stumbled down to the kitchen and switched on the kettle. Opening the laptop was an automatic reaction, when it had booted up, I saw there was a message waiting for me on Facebook. I quickly clicked on the messenger icon.

  “Hi there, I saw you’d posted about Hilary’s groom. I used to work with Sally years ago and I was sure I saw her at the local hunt meeting. Someone said her name wasn’t Sally, but I was pretty sure it was her.”

  It was hardly the detailed information I wanted to receive. Someone thought they might have seen her. However, no matter how obscure this was, it was the only lead I had, so I quickly typed up a reply.

  I didn’t know what to expect so went back to making a strong coffee to try and get me through the morning. I was surprised when a minute later the laptop pinged and a new message was showing.

  “Hi there, just getting ready for work, I saw you’d replied. I am pretty sure it was her, even from a distance. As I said we worked together and I recognised her immediately. It threw me when someone said her name wasn’t Sally, but what with what happened at Hilary’s yard I thought she might have wanted a new start.”

  I typed up a response, was she really sure it was her?

  “Yeah, I’m sure it was her. We were good friends for a long time. Our friendship went a bit sour towards the end however, Sally and I didn’t see eye to eye in the last couple of weeks before I left the yard. She stole my boyfriend and we came to blows over it. I was a bit surprised to see her down here, I don’t think she saw me. At least I hope she didn’t…”

  I asked a few questions as to where she was and discovered it was at a local hunt in Devon, she told me the next time they would be meeting to hunt would be later in the week. Would she be there? What would I even say to her if I saw her? I was seriously clutching at straws, but it had to be worth it. I looked up the journey and started to plan a day trip to Dartmoor.

  * * *

  It was early, I hoped to get to Devon before the hunt started out so I needed to get on the road early. I had filled a flask with coffee and stepped out onto the dark and silent yard. I got in my car and started the long journey.

  The hours on the motorway dragged, after many hours I finally reached Devon and my sat nav directed me to where I had been told the hunt would be meeting. I was soon pulling up at a thatched country pub, I could see horses already milling about outside, there were lines of horseboxes and trailers in the car park. I pulled my car up and stepped out. There was a bustle of people in red hunt coats, horses and others wrapped up warm against the drizzle in wax jackets and green wellies.

  “Hello! I don’t recognise you. You’re not one of them, are you?” The woman was older with the ruddy face of someone who had spent their life outdoors.

  “One of them?”

  “A bloody sab… Look, if you are, we don’t hunt foxes anymore and to be honest we hardly ever caught any when we did. The last fox that was killed by this hunt was in 1974 and that was an old vixen that was accidentally stepped on by the Master’s horse. So, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

 

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