The Innocent Ones

by The Innocent Ones (retail) (epub)

  ‘You found out she’d killed again?’

  ‘Yes, I did, and I wish I hadn’t.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘I’m here to do the right thing. At last.’

  Chapter Seventy

  Jayne was at the rear of the courthouse in Langton.

  The day had started earlier than she’d hoped, after an evening of Dan being lost in his own thoughts, Jayne sprawled across his sofa, her head in his lap, channel-hopping until he decided he needed an early night.

  That was the other side to Dan Grant, the preoccupation with his cases. Her head was a little fogged from the night before, but that was the drawback of Dan avoiding the bottle, because she’d never been one for letting a bottle go unfinished.

  She’d got to Langton early, not wanting to risk missing the prison van arriving. Rodney had further to come, and there was always a worry that the governor would refuse the request, but Dan reckoned the police would see the risks in him not being produced.

  Dan would be able to check whether Rodney was expected, but the earliest sign would be whether he got off the prison van. Dan had a murder trial to run and didn’t want to trust everything on messages from the cells.

  A woman appeared further along and stopped nearby. Blonde hair, visible even in her hooded jacket, her hands thrust into the pockets. Jayne recognised her from the day before. Leoni.

  Jayne turned away, surprised. How did she know? She hadn’t been at court the day before, as far as she knew, and Dan had said that Leoni hadn’t been mentioned during the evidence. Why was she there?

  Before she could think anything more about it, the heavy diesel rumble of a vehicle echoed between the city-centre buildings. The prison van. Tall and white, with small darkened windows, just enough to allow the prisoners to see out. Was Rodney behind one of them, his first view of a changing world in more than twenty years? Would sight of the outside world give him second thoughts, wonder whether he could cope if released? It was one thing wanting to do the right thing, but would he sink back into preferring his regular routines?

  The van shot down a concrete ramp at the side of the courthouse, stopping by a side door. Jayne was able to move to a spot where she got a decent view. There was some shouting as a security guard in a white shirt went inside, before emerging shortly afterwards with his arm pulled back, a chain taut as someone else in the van delayed an exit.

  Rodney had his head bowed as he left the van, the security guard leading him, both of Rodney’s wrists shackled together.

  He looked different to how he’d seemed when she’d travelled to meet him. More ill at ease. He’d had a prison strut as he made his way across the room. His survival instinct would have taught him that, because weakness stands out in prison, makes him prey. Away from his prison wing, he seemed smaller, squinting upwards into the sunshine, and looked like he no longer belonged in this world.

  As he glanced upwards, Jayne raised her hand in acknowledgement, and he saw her and nodded, his expression serious.

  Then it changed.

  His eyes widened, his mouth dropped open, and for a moment it looked as if he might burst into tears. Instead, he turned away and was pulled into a side door, lost to the darkness of the cell complex in the depths of the courthouse.

  Jayne looked to her left and stepped back in surprise. Leoni was next to her, staring at her.

  Rodney must have seen her, and Leoni was making it clear that she knew who Jayne was.

  Jayne didn’t know what to do. Her instinct told her to run. Leoni was a murderer, but her glare was intense, accusing.

  Jayne swallowed her fear and said, ‘Game over.’

  Leoni didn’t answer. Instead, she kept her stare for a few seconds longer, before turning to walk away.

  Jayne let out a long breath and noticed that her hands were shaking. She knew what Leoni’s stare meant: that whatever happened in the courtroom, Nick’s case wasn’t the end of it.

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Dan was emerging from the robing room, running his finger round his collar, as Jayne came to meet him, rushing from the security barrier.

  ‘Rodney’s here,’ she said, breathless. ‘I saw him arrive, but not just Rodney though. Leoni too.’

  He craned his neck to look through the door and towards the street. ‘Why is she here?’

  ‘I don’t know, but she was waiting for Rodney. And she knows who I am, gave me real daggers before she walked off.’

  ‘Someone has tipped her off.’

  ‘That’s what I thought. But who?’

  ‘I’ve one guess,’ Dan said, and turned towards the door that led to the cells.

  The clang of the door echoed as Dan went down the stairs. The press of a buzzer brought a security guard to the other side of a screen, and Dan asked for Rodney Walker before sitting down.

  His breath steamed up the glass screen as he waited. He didn’t have to wait for long. The lock rattled and Rodney was shown in.

  Rodney wasn’t as brash as he had been the last time Dan saw him. He slumped into the chair and cast his gaze to the floor. His shoulders heaved as he took a deep breath.

  ‘Are you ready, Rodney?’

  He looked up. ‘This is it then. Is Porter doing the same?’

  Dan reached into his pocket for his Dictaphone ‘He’s not going into court, he won’t, but I’ve got something better,’ and he waved the machine. ‘The whole story. I’m going to the media with his, so the world will hear the story Mark Roberts was going to write. It’ll be heard beyond this courtroom.’

  Rodney thought about that, before saying, ‘Good. That was the deal, that I don’t do this alone. Let’s go.’

  As Dan put the Dictaphone away, he said, ‘Leoni was here before.’

  ‘I know, I saw her. I guessed she would be.’

  ‘Did you tell her you’d be here?’

  ‘I called her last night.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘To tell her what I was going to do. It changes everything. For me. For her.’

  ‘But why tip her off?’

  ‘Because I had this one last hope that she might have gone into the police station herself. It was her chance for some redemption, to make it right.’

  ‘I don’t think she took it.’

  ‘I know. I could tell from her expression. She wasn’t there to see me. She was there to warn me off, to somehow tweak my emotions. Do you know what she mouthed when I looked up? I love you, Daddy. Can you believe that? She wanted me to break, to get back on the prison van and forget all about it.’

  ‘And why didn’t you?’

  ‘Because I’m trying to do the right thing, however much it hurts.’ He wiped his eyes and his voice broke. ‘I haven’t seen her in over twenty years but I knew it was her. She looked just like Sarah did at that age. And a father’s love never dies. She might be incapable of that emotion, but I can feel it, and seeing her in the flesh like that…’ He blew out. ‘It made me feel sick, because I wanted to reach out for her, have my little girl hold me like I’d always hoped she would.’ Tears ran down his cheeks. ‘Do you know she never asked for a hug? I thought little girls were supposed to love their daddy, be all over them, sit on their knees and play stupid games.’ He held up his hand. ‘I know, I’m making it all about me, but it’s only when I look back that I can see it. She’s dead in here,’ and he patted his chest. ‘Always has been, because I tried. I blamed Sarah for it, and me, but I never thought of blaming her.’

  ‘Are you going to go through with it, Rodney? I need to know, because I’ve got a client depending on you.’

  He wiped his eyes. ‘I’m ready.’

  Dan left him and went back to the court corridor, anxious for the case to start before Rodney had a change of heart. Porter was there, waiting further along.

  As Dan approached him, he stood and said, ‘This isn’t a good day for me, Mr Grant. Are you sure I need to do this?’

  ‘That was the deal I made with Rodney. He’ll do it if you will. I’ll speak
to the press, and you should too. If you talk to them, you can control the information.’ Dan stepped closer. ‘And you know, deep down, that it’s the right thing to do. I made a deal, a promise. Whatever you think of defence lawyers, you’re the one with the dirty secret.’

  With that, Dan went into the courtroom, wanting the cool hush to calm him. If he was going to get his own revenge for what happened to his office, and for the beating he took, it had to go right in court.

  He checked his watch. Almost time.

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  The public gallery was quiet as everyone waited for the trial to resume. This was the part people wanted to hear the most. The story from the accused. Would he change their minds? Would he wilt under the prosecution examination?

  Nick Connor was sitting back, his arms folded.

  Dan was in front of him, his mouth against one of the small gaps in the glass screen. ‘Remember all that we talked about, how you’re going to leave it to me?’

  Nick leaned forward. ‘Because I’ll mess it up. That’s what you mean.’

  ‘I’m creating doubt. That’s your best option. If you go into the witness box, you’ll be ripped to shreds and all the doubt will disappear.’

  Everyone stood as the judge made her entrance. As she took her seat, once everyone had bowed, she said, ‘Do you need some time with your client, Mr Grant?’

  ‘I do apologise, My Lady. I’m just confirming my instructions,’ he said, and then back to Nick, ‘There have been some developments.’

  ‘Is it to do with the questions you were asking yesterday? About those seaside murders?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It was lost on me, man, but just do what you’ve got to do.’

  The judge’s impatience grew. ‘Mr Grant?’

  He stepped away from the dock and returned to his place. ‘I’m ready, My Lady.’

  The judge nodded to the court usher, who left to fetch the jurors. Once they were all seated, staring expectantly towards Nick Connor, she asked, ‘Mr Grant, do you intend to call any evidence?’

  Dan stood. He knew he was going to disappoint everyone, at least in the short term, as he announced, ‘My client does not wish to give evidence, but I call Rodney Walker.’

  The murmurs of surprise and the shuffles of people moving in their seats filled the courtroom.

  The news about Rodney Walker must have filtered out. From the prison, that was Dan’s guess, because a reviled prisoner attending court to talk about his crimes was big news. The number of reporters had certainly increased. At the start of the trial there had been two. One from the local paper, and another one who’d feed the story to the online outlets before the local reporter had the chance to get her copy approved. There were six now, with a journalist Dan recognised from the television, along with others he’d never seen before. Dan assumed they were from the nationals, because stories involving those who murder children sell well.

  Barbara was in her usual place, but there was someone new sitting next to her. A man, around thirty years old, well-built and good-looking. Although they weren’t talking to each other, they were in adjoining seats with other spaces free, which told Dan they were together.

  Jayne was sitting a few seats away, but her arms were folded, a scowl on her face.

  As he turned away, he caught a glimpse of someone entering the public gallery. Unassuming, her hands in the pocket of her hoodie, hood down, she sat at one end, with a direct view towards the witness box. Her blonde hair was tied into a knot on the top of her head, so that it swished and bounced around as she took her seat.

  He winced as a memory came back to him. Two figures raining blows, in silhouette, nothing said. But one had longer hair, so that it bounced in the glow of the distant street lights.

  She caught his glare and, as she narrowed her eyes, Dan detected the faintest cold smile.

  He turned to face the front. Leoni had been one of his attackers. Who else could it be?

  And another memory came back to him. A flash of blonde hair disappearing into Carl Ogden’s kitchen when he’d burst in, drunk. Leoni. That’s why Oggy had threatened him, because Leoni had told him to.

  But how had she known? Had she seen Barbara in Highford and worked out who she was?

  A jangle of keys diverted his attention. Dan had been told that Rodney Walker would be brought through a side door rather than through the dock, due to the proximity of Nick Connor. A door opened, and everyone in the courtroom turned to look.

  Rodney was in his prison gear of jeans and grey sweatshirt, chained to a security guard, his wrists cuffed together. They weaved their way to the witness box, every pair of eyes following them, until Rodney stood in the dock.

  The security guard unlocked one of the cuffs, but Rodney remained chained to him from the other cuff; the guard stood to one side.

  The judge must have caught Dan’s uncertainty, because she looked down and shook her head. ‘Serving prisoner, Mr Grant.’

  Dan understood. Rodney would remain locked to the guard until he was back in the secure van.

  Rodney’s voice trembled as he took the oath, before he straightened his back, a small nod to Dan indicating that he was ready.

  Then he saw her. Leoni.

  He looked down and took a few deep breaths. For a moment, Dan thought he was going to back out, say that he couldn’t do it, but when he looked up, he was filled with resolve. He angled his body towards the judge so that he couldn’t see Leoni.

  Dan smiled to put him at ease before asking, ‘Mr Walker, you are in prison for double murder. Is that correct?’

  ‘That’s right,’ he said, but it was barely audible, so he coughed and said louder, ‘Yes, I am.’

  The court was silent, and Dan could feel the tension, wondering what he could possibly say that could be relevant to Nick’s defence.

  ‘It might be that some members of the jury are familiar with your case, but who was murdered?’

  ‘Two small children, more than twenty years ago. William Clegg and Ruby Overfield.’

  ‘The press refer to them as The Brampton Murders, is that correct?’

  ‘It’s a snappy headline.’

  ‘Did you kill those children?’

  He looked back to the public gallery and stayed silent.

  This was the moment when Rodney needed to speak – Nick’s case was hanging on his next words – but he wasn’t talking. Instead, he was staring towards the public gallery, grinding his jaw, breathing hard.

  Dan didn’t push him, he didn’t want to force out an answer that wasn’t the truth, but the knot in his stomach grew as he waited, and it was almost as if everyone in the courtroom was leaning forward, straining for the answer.

  The judge was about to intervene when Rodney turned back to Dan and said, ‘No, I did not.’

  Dan tried to hide his relief, and he worried about the judge losing patience with him, the questions seemingly nothing to do with the current case apart from the mention of Brampton. He moved the questioning on. ‘The deceased in this case was Mark Roberts. Did you ever meet him?’

  ‘Yes, he came to my prison. He was writing a story about me. Or a book or something.’

  ‘When was this?’

  ‘Just after Christmas. He wanted my co-operation, but the first time it was all low-key. It sounded like one of those churned-out true crime things, where he wanted to talk about the crimes and get my side of it. I spoke to him just to break up the monotony, but I had nothing to tell him. But the second time, he was different. More excited.’

  ‘Did he say why?’

  ‘He told me he believed I was innocent and reckoned he could prove it. He wanted to lead a campaign. I told him no, and he became insistent, pleaded with me, saw it as a way of raising his profile. I refused, but he said he’d prove it anyway, as if he knew why I was saying no.’

  Dan faked a look of surprise, because he knew the story, but he had to play along with the reactions of everyone else in the courtroom. ‘Why did you say no?�
��

  ‘Because I didn’t want the truth to come out.’

  ‘Which is?’

  Rodney looked towards the back of the courtroom again, towards Leoni. ‘That I didn’t kill those children. And Mark Roberts had worked that out.’

  Dan paused to let those words sink in, and then asked, ‘If it wasn’t you, Mr Walker, who do you think killed them?’

  ‘I don’t think. I know. It was my daughter, Leoni. Sweet little ten-year-old Leoni.’

  There was an audible gasp from a few people, and then a bang as someone left the courtroom, like the hard smack of a hand on the wooden door.

  Dan looked round. Leoni had gone.

  * * *

  Jayne followed Leoni out of the courtroom, trying not to disturb the proceedings and keep her distance, but Leoni must have suspected something, because once she was out of the building she began to run.

  Jayne bolted for the exit, ignoring the shouts of the security staff, and banged hard on the glass door to get onto the street. She looked up and down, trying to see Leoni through the city centre crowd, but she wasn’t there. She’d got too much of a head start.

  ‘Shit!’ She stamped on the ground in frustration, her hands on her hips, turning, still a vague hope she would see her head bobbing as she ran. It was futile. Leoni was gone.

  She was about to turn back to the court entrance when she saw a man was leaving.

  It was Chris. She’d seen him in the gallery but had been too angry to speak to him.

  His smile was cautious as he approached. ‘Hi.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘My sister is one of her victims, remember.’

  ‘You don’t seem surprised by events this morning.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘I knew it wasn’t Rodney. It had to be someone else.’

  ‘But Leoni?’

  ‘It makes sense.’

  ‘Is that the only reason you’re here, for your sister?’