The Darkness Around Her

by The Darkness Around Her (retail) (epub)

  Dan stared down at his papers and swallowed. He’d almost been caught out there. He’d made some headway, but he had to be wary of asking one question too many.

  ‘This deserted spot. Where was it?’

  Murdoch’s eyes narrowed. ‘By the canal.’

  ‘The same canal that runs past where Annie Yates was last seen?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The same canal that runs past where Lizzie Barnsley was found?’

  A sigh. ‘Yes.’

  Dan became aware of the silence in the courtroom. Usually the public gallery was full of whispers and murmurs, too quiet to disturb but part of the background noise, like the crackle of a stylus on an old vinyl record. The court was transfixed.

  ‘Let’s jump forward eighteen months and a little closer to home. ‘Claire Watkins. Do you know about the case?’

  ‘I do. I was one of the investigating officers. I wasn’t the senior investigating officer, but I was involved in it.’

  That jolted Dan. Murdoch would know more about the case than what she could glean from a crime report. He ploughed on regardless.

  ‘Claire Watkins also went missing, from Highford this time, Lizzie Barnsley’s home town. Is that correct?’

  ‘It is. She went out to meet someone and she never came home.’

  ‘Who was she meeting?’

  ‘We never found out. She was making a lot of calls to an unregistered number. That phone was in Highford when she went missing, but the SIM card had been bought a long time before from a shop in Manchester. It wasn’t registered to anyone, and the CCTV at the shop had been scrubbed.’

  ‘What did you conclude in the end?’

  ‘We kept an open mind. There’s a strong possibility that she ran away with whoever she was meeting.’

  ‘And where had she arranged to meet this person?’

  ‘We don’t know.’

  ‘But she was never seen again.’

  Murdoch didn’t answer.

  ‘Inspector?’

  ‘Sorry, I thought it was a statement, not a question. Yes, no reported sightings of her.’

  ‘Look at the next case, a year later. Katie Boardman.’

  Dan stopped. There was a noise at the back of the courtroom. Peter was leaning forward, his hands on his head.

  The judge peered over his glasses. ‘Is your client feeling unwell, Mr Grant?’

  ‘If Your Lordship will give me a moment.’

  The judge waved his hand dismissively.

  Dan stepped out from behind his desk and went to the dock at the back of the courtroom. He leaned into a gap in the glass. ‘What’s going on, Peter?’

  He moved his hands from the top of his head. ‘How long will this go on for?’

  ‘Stick with it. Trust me.’ Dan was surprised to see tears in Peter’s eyes. ‘You okay? Do you need a break?’

  ‘No. Get on with it. I want it all over.’

  ‘Just keep it together.’ Dan went back to his place.

  ‘Are you ready to carry on, Mr Grant?’

  ‘I am. Thank you.’ He turned back to Murdoch. ‘Katie Boardman. What can you tell the court?’

  ‘Similar to Claire, except she was from Turners Fold. Went for a walk along the canal and didn’t come home. She was having a hard time: she was being investigated for stealing some money and there was some talk of her losing her job. There were no signs of foul play and we concluded in the end that she might have taken her own life or run away, that she went missing intentionally.’

  ‘Or she could have been murdered and her body never recovered?’

  ‘It’s a possibility.’

  ‘And she was from a town further along the same canal.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Dan leaned down to make a note, although it was really to let the last comment sink in and for his own nerves to settle. His mind flashed to Pat and the anguish in his eyes when he’d recounted what Sean Martin had told him.

  When he straightened, he said, ‘Most people will have heard of the next victim. Rosie Smith.’

  There were whispers from the public gallery.

  Murdoch frowned. ‘I wasn’t asked about Rosie this morning.’

  ‘I didn’t need to ask you about it, because I know about her murder, as do you. For the benefit of the jury, you’ll agree that Rosie Smith was a fourteen-year-old girl murdered on Highford’s canal towpath, and that her stepfather, Sean Martin, found her.’

  ‘Yes, that’s the one.’

  ‘Twelve years ago now, and it was a few months before Sean Martin was charged with her murder.’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘And that Sean Martin was convicted of her murder, but a few years later was retried and acquitted.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘And that at this moment, we don’t know who murdered Rosie Smith.’

  Murdoch swallowed, and Dan could see that she wanted to say that Sean Martin killed Rosie, but Dan knew that she wouldn’t. It would rebound on her somehow.

  ‘No, we don’t.’

  The judge intervened. ‘How many more of these cases are there, Mr Grant?’

  ‘I’m going to raise a further four, My Lord.’

  The judge turned to Murdoch. ‘And you have been given details of these?’

  ‘This morning.’

  ‘I’m going to give the jury a short break. It will do them good.’

  Everyone stayed silent as the jurors filed out. Once they’d cleared the courtroom, the judge considered Dan for a moment before saying, ‘These other four. Are they all similar?’

  ‘More recent, and along the same canal.’

  ‘Is that right, Detective Inspector?’

  ‘Broadly, yes.’

  ‘How broad?’

  ‘I haven’t had the chance to go into any detail, and it’s a long canal with many towns along it. I was asked to see whether Peter Box appeared in the investigations. I’ve found out what I could in the time available.’

  Francesca stood up, causing Dan to give way to her. ‘My Lord, being aware of that, I do feel I should be allowed to ask the officer about those cases in re-examination. My friend has raised the prospect of a serial murderer, or kidnapper or whatever label he wants to apply to it, and has asked the officer to research various cases. I asked the officer to assist. What Your Lordship should not do is allow my friend to cherry-pick from them, because that is exactly what he has done.’

  ‘You make a fair point, Ms McIntyre, and it’s duly noted. Mr Grant, it is a matter for you as to whether or not you raise those in cross-examination, but I will allow the prosecution to examine in greater detail all of the cases you asked the officer to look into this morning.’

  Dan stood and nodded. ‘As you please, My Lord.’

  ‘And Mr Grant. I’ve allowed you some leeway this morning, and I understand the geographical proximity, as well as the fact that the cases are unexplained. We are left with vague answers, however, because of the lateness of these enquiries, so I will allow the prosecution to bring forth any statistics on missing persons to put those cases in a better context. You are taking a snapshot but there is a broader view.’

  Dan took a deep breath. The judge was right. At least he had more than what he’d started with the day before.

  ‘I’m grateful, My Lord.’

  ‘Can we resume?’

  ‘I’m ready.’

  ‘Ms McIntyre?’

  ‘As always.’

  The judge sat back. ‘Allow the jurors ten minutes for a comfort break and then bring them back.’

  Dan sat down to wait for the case to resume and let out a long breath of relief. The judge had rescued him, even though Dan suspected he hadn’t seen it that way. There were inconsistencies ahead that may make his questioning look desperate.

  He turned to look towards the dock. Peter had his hands on his head again, looking at the floor.

  The case would feel so much more rewarding if his client would just take an interest.

  Thirty-seven
>
  Jayne walked into the shop in Highford town centre, a small chain store on the precinct, the sort with racks of clothes churned out by some sweatshop factory and with cheap bangles by the till.

  It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust as she went in. There was a woman behind the counter. Her name badge declared her name was Ann.

  ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘I’m looking for Emily. I’ve been told she works here.’

  ‘And you are?’

  ‘A private investigator.’

  Ann raised her eyebrows, making Jayne laugh and say, ‘It’s not as exciting as it sounds.’

  ‘Must beat selling clothes,’ Ann said, before turning to shout through a door that led to a stairwell. ‘Emily?’

  Jayne tried to stay still, but she felt a small tingle of excitement as she heard Emily’s footsteps on the stairs. She was uncovering a link they hadn’t known was there.

  Emily was small and petite, her hair bleached straw-blonde and cut short, with bold make-up that made her cheekbones jut out. ‘What is it? I’m on my lunch.’

  ‘This woman here wants to talk to you. She’s a private investigator, so she says.’

  Emily looked confused.

  Jayne reached for a business card. ‘It’s about Peter Box, and Sean Martin.’

  Emily’s eyes flickered wide before she took a deep breath. She looked at Ann. ‘Can I take her upstairs?’ When Ann nodded, Emily said, ‘Come up, if you don’t mind me eating.’

  She turned to go up the stairs. Jayne followed.

  A brightly lit stairwell led to a stockroom, shoeboxes and clothes in plastic bags crammed on metal shelves, and long coats on racks. Emily turned into a small staff room, with a round table in the middle and a shelf and sink further along, a microwave and kettle the only amenities. There was a half-eaten baked potato with butter and baked beans on the table. Emily picked it up and went to a bin in the corner.

  ‘Not hungry anymore?’ Jayne said.

  ‘No, not now.’ She sighed. ‘Is this about Peter’s trial?’

  ‘You know about it?’

  ‘He’s an ex-boyfriend. I’m bound to notice his name when I see it in the papers. It was a long time ago, yes, but it’s still a shock that he could do that. I’ve got a new life now. I’m married. Got a couple of children, a boy and a girl. If you want me to give him a character reference, forget it.’

  ‘No, it’s not that. I want to ask you how it was back then. We want to understand him, that’s all.’

  ‘This is all very late in the day.’

  ‘We didn’t know about you, or anyone else who knew him well.’

  She thought about that for a few seconds. ‘Peter could be a little quiet and hard to get to know, but he was, well, you know, a decent guy. The way he was supposed to be: attentive, loving.’

  ‘What changed?’

  ‘Sean, I think.’

  ‘Your brother-in-law.’

  ‘Yeah, just great, isn’t it? My sister married a killer. Well, a cleared killer.’

  ‘Do you think he did it?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She pulled a face. ‘No, of course not. Trudy wouldn’t have married him if he had, but, you know, there’s always that doubt.’

  ‘Are you close to Trudy?’

  ‘She’s my big sister.’

  ‘And Sean?’

  ‘It’s not my business who she marries.’

  ‘That doesn’t answer the question.’

  ‘And I’m not in a courtroom.’

  Jayne blushed. ‘Yes, I know, I’m sorry. I just need your help, that’s all.’

  ‘I get why you’re asking about Peter. But why do you want to talk about Sean?’

  ‘Because we think Sean might be connected to Peter’s case.’

  Emily drummed her fingernails on the table as she thought about that. Jayne stayed silent as she let Emily’s thoughts percolate.

  Eventually, Emily said, ‘Sean changed him.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Peter worshipped him. I was close to Trudy, so we’d go to her house nearly every weekend. Sean was living in a canal boat back then, but he’d spend most nights at Trudy’s. It was all right at first, but Sean drank too much and he was a bit mouthy. You know, sounding off all the time. Politics mainly. He had a view on everything and thought he was the authority on it all. I used to get bored and fall asleep, but Sean would ply Peter with vodka and go on and on all night. Sean likes an audience, but even Trudy would get bored. It was harmless at first, but then Peter started to think Sean was right about stuff, and a lot of it was horrible.’

  ‘What like?’

  ‘Sean was fixated with being in control, how life is about getting what you want, fulfilling your fantasies. That seemed to get into Peter’s head. He changed. He became arrogant and started to treat me badly.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘It’s embarrassing to talk about this. I don’t want to say it in court, in public.’

  ‘Think of it as girlie chat, just between me and you.’

  ‘Sean was a creep. When Trudy wasn’t there, he’d be all flirty, saying how awkward it is when you prefer the younger sister, stuff like that, and would drop hints that we should get it out of our system. But there was nothing to get out. It was just Sean being sleazy, and he’d grab at me, paw me. How could he? He was going out with my sister. It was wrong. But Peter? It excited him.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘If Trudy went to bed early, crashed out or whatever, Sean would suggest we had a bit of fun, and I knew what he meant.’ Emily blushed. ‘A threesome. He never said it when Trudy was around, and it was like he wanted to use Peter to have me. And then he started to behave like that even when Trudy was there: grabbing at me, molesting me in front of her, as if he had no respect for Trudy either. And then there was a night when it all got out of control.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘It was demeaning, and it’s when Peter and I really fell out, because I expected him to stand up for me or object, but it almost seemed like he wanted it. Can you believe it? Peter wanted to watch me have sex with Sean, just to please Sean. I went mad, shouting and throwing stuff, and Trudy joined in, except she made it sound like it was all my fault for encouraging Sean. She grabbed me by the hair and threw me out.’

  ‘And Peter?’

  ‘He stayed behind. That hurt most of all, that I mattered so little to any of them, Peter included. That’s when I finished with him. I’d had enough. I mean, how can you stay with someone like that? He kept in touch with Sean but that was it for me. I didn’t want to have anything to do with any of them.’

  ‘Did Sean and Peter stay close?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Sean’s a user, you see. He didn’t like Peter. He just liked the fact that Peter idolised him. Peter was young and stupid, that’s all. He came round one night, drunk and crying, really desperate to talk to me, but I closed the door on him. That was the last time I saw him, except when I bumped into him in the street, but he was a different person by then. More nervy, almost a little strange.’

  ‘And you and Trudy?’

  ‘We didn’t speak again until she split up with Sean. One night she called to say she was sorry, that it was all Sean and that sisters should get on.’

  ‘Did she say why they split up?’

  Emily shrugged. ‘They were too combustible. Too much fire for each other.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘We’re close again, and prison changed Sean. He wasn’t quite so clever when he came out, as if he knew people thought differently of him. Prison must do that to you, knock off your edges.’

  ‘Thank you. You’ve been a big help.’

  ‘Have I? How?’

  Jayne exhaled. ‘Honestly? I don’t know, but I feel like I understand it all a little more.’

  ‘What happens next?’

  ‘I report back to Peter’s lawyer and he decides what to do.’

  Emily smiled. ‘How is Peter?’

  ‘I haven�
�t had much to do with him. He’s got a good lawyer, though.’

  ‘Did he do it? Did he kill her?’

  ‘The police say he did.’

  ‘What does he say though?’

  Jayne couldn’t give the truthful answer, that he hadn’t said a word about the murder, so she fell back onto the two words he had said. ‘He pleaded not guilty. That’s good enough for us.’

  * * *

  Dan’s pulse was quick as he left the courtroom, racing from the adrenaline rush of a crucial passage in the case. He didn’t want to spend any time making small talk with Francesca, but instead get outside for some fresh air, so he could refocus for the afternoon ahead. It had been a draining morning. He’d been tense all night, his sleep restless, with his morning starting too early and his mind jumbled by lists of cases and facts. The rush would pass and all he’d be left with would be fatigue. He needed to stay active and he thought walking the streets might keep his focus more than sitting around in the robing room.

  Then thoughts of Pat flooded him.

  He checked his phone, hoping for a message about Pat. There was one from Jayne. Need to speak. Now!

  He was about to call when he saw Bill in the court corridor, sitting on one of the seats and wringing his hands. He looked up at Dan and seemed as if he didn’t know what to say, whether he was grateful to Dan for raising some of the cases he’d researched, or if he was still angry he’d ignored his son’s murder.

  Before Bill had a chance to say anything, Dan was distracted by the approach of a reporter, who rushed over and handed him a business card. She was young and eager. ‘I heard what you said in there. Do you really believe there is a serial killer stalking the canals?’ She held out a voice recorder, her eyes sharp.

  ‘I can’t discuss an ongoing case without my client’s instructions.’

  ‘But you raised it in court, in evidence.’

  ‘Report that then, if you like, but this conversation isn’t happening.’

  The reporter sighed and clicked off the machine. Her eyes softened, and some of that professional ruthlessness was replaced by curiosity. ‘What about off the record? It sounds like a great piece.’

  ‘Off the record, I’d love to help, but I need to see how the case goes first.’ He pointed towards Bill. ‘He fed much of the information to me. And there are more cases than the ones I mentioned in court.’