by Mark Bailey
So she resolved to consider it further, to take stock, to do some research. She needed her job, but she wanted to sort Theo out too. She needed time — to slow down and not act impulsively — to change.
The weeks passed, and she was feeling more patient now, in herself and with others. She wasn’t in a hurry and even imagined she saw Theo smile at her one afternoon at work. No, she thought, Theo doesn’t smile; it must be the medication working, she decided. The following day, just before lunch, her phone rang.
‘Hi, Milly, it’s Rob Windsor. I’m heading through Watford with D.S. Stopford, and I was wondering if we could catch up for coffee? We’re only twenty minutes away. I’m sorry for the short notice but I’ve ended up with more time today and, besides, I’ve got some news for you.’
‘Sure, Rob,’ replied Milly, ‘I’ll meet you at McDonald’s on High and King Streets. I’ll be around thirty minutes if that suits?’
When they were seated, with their coffees, Windsor began.
‘Do you remember there were three suspects in the murder of your sister Sibby?’
‘Yes,’ Milly replied. ‘There was Cailin Stewart, Sim Charles, and the third suspect was unknown. His was the semen found on Sibby’s body, but he had nothing to do with her murder.’
‘Correct. Do you also recall P.C. Elizabeth Stone?’ asked Windsor.
‘Of course, I do,’ replied Milly. ‘We’ve met a few times. Beth’s quite lovely.’
‘She’s very intuitive too,’ added Windsor. ‘Around ten nights ago, she was helping out at a random drink and drugs checkpoint in Croydon when a particular driver came to her attention. After breath testing him, she swabbed him for a drug test. She tested that and, after making sure it was clear, she asked him for another swab because, she told him, the result of the first swab was unclear. Anyway, after checking his license and noting his details, including his address, she let him go because his first test came back negative.’
‘Right,’ answered Milly, wondering where this was going.
‘Then she took the second swab, bagged it up and, after presenting it to Greg, we had a D.N.A. test done. When the test came back, it confirmed P.C. Stone’s suspicions. The semen found on Sibby’s body belonged to him, a Mr. Donald Kerford, a happily married computer consultant, originally from Scotland and father of two young children.’
‘That’s unbelievable,’ replied Milly. ‘She’s obviously matched Donald Kerford at the driver checkpoint with the photo-fit from the D.N.A. phenotyping that came back from the States.’
‘Yes, that’s right. She remembered the photo-fit,’ answered Stopford as he reached into the document bag he was carrying and removed that same photo-fit and a photo of Kerford and copy of his D.N.A profile. He put the profile back.
Milly offered a quiet whistle as she compared the photo-fit with Kerford’s photograph. The likeness was uncanny, though not exact. The photo-fit depicted an unsmiling blond, fair-skinned Caucasian man, with blue eyes, around forty years of age. The subject photo, similar to a mugshot showed a smiling Kerford with blond hair and blue eyes, who was thirty-six years old. Then Stopford produced another photo-fit in which the unsmiling subject in the photo was depicted, mouth still closed, with a broad smile. The set of the eyes on the computer-enhanced subject now turned up at the bottom, pushed up by skin moving over high cheekbones.
‘Beth has been very astute in picking this up,’ commented Milly as she stared at the two photos, comparing them.
‘We’ve been lucky in this case,’ continued Windsor. ‘Often the profiling won’t give us a result like this. In other cases, there wouldn’t be a likeness, like this one, only similar physical features such as hair, eye, and skin color. If Mr. Kerford had long hair or a crew cut, for instance, Beth might never have picked the similarities, so even the hairstyle as depicted in the photo-fit has been helpful in gaining a match. Anyway, we contacted him, and he was happy to cooperate if we kept his details private, considering his marital and family status. He confirmed he visited the South Croydon Inn, and had used an escort service, and he was happy for us to take his photo.’
‘Lucky you kept the D.N.A. profile then, even though he had nothing to do with the crime. Will you keep his details on the D.N.A. database?’ asked Milly.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ answered Windsor. ‘It is illegal under the Police and Criminal Evidence Act. They can keep evidence where crimes are unsolved, and they don’t know who the D.N.A. belongs to, but they will have to delete the evidence if someone is identified once this crime is finalized. His D.N.A will be deleted from the system when the case against Cailin Stewart and his sentencing and all legal procedure has finished. I think they would wait to make sure Stewart doesn’t appeal his sentence; I don’t know, though, I’m not a lawyer. Kerford hasn’t done anything wrong, not as far as the law is concerned, and he’s got no prior criminal convictions, so there’s no need to keep his profile in the database. It’s not up to us, though.’
‘What’s going on with you, regarding a promotion, then Greg?’ asked Milly changing the subject and switching her focus from Windsor to Stopford. ‘I noticed D.C.I. Windsor here got a pay rise,’ she commented, referring to his recent promotion as she stared at Stopford directly. Milly knew that Windsor had been commended highly and promoted for his work in solving Sibby’s murder and assumed, as a team, Stopford would have received a similar commendation — a promotion too, perhaps.
‘Nothing,’ snapped Stopford.
‘Don’t look at me,’ shot back Windsor suddenly, looking somewhat despondent. ’That’s not up to us either, Milly. Greg has been recommended for promotion, and there is a position that needs filling fast. There’s nothing more I can do!’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I can see it is a bit of a sore point.’
‘No, that’s alright. I didn’t mean to jump down your throat, Milly. I know Rob has done all he can, so it’s out of his hands now. I’ll probably move on to a private investigator’s role, working for someone for a while and then perhaps start my own business; I’ve been offered a position. I’ve been thinking about it for some time, and it’s nothing to do with the promotion, or not … well, not really. I’d just like to get involved in some cold cases. There are big rewards out there, you know, and I’m familiar with how police systems work and where to get information.’
‘You might also need a criminal psychologist on board to help too,’ added Milly, who liked what she was hearing.
‘And a partner if I go into business myself,’ added Stopford as he glanced over at Windsor.
‘So where did this come from all of a sudden?’ asked Windsor, glaring back at Stopford, obviously uncomfortable.
‘Just thinking out loud,’ he replied.
‘Mate, with all this D.N.A. profiling and now the D.N.A. phenotyping, some of these cold cases would be a cinch to solve,’ added Milly, throwing fuel on the fire as she stared back at Windsor.
‘We’ll see,’ said Windsor as he stood up, looking at his watch. ‘Greg and I need to get going, Milly. Thanks for taking the time to meet with us. We’ll be in touch and let you know if any more information becomes available.’ As Windsor turned to walk to the door, Milly glanced at Stopford and winked.
‘Yes, I’ll talk to you two shortly. Thanks for the update.’
She waited until they left, as she speculated on their conversation — probably a heated one, as Windsor and Stopford drove back to London. Windsor had no idea what was on Stopford’s mind. He’d made that obvious by the abrupt change in his manner and tone and sudden urgency to leave.
Milly’s mind raced as she walked to the car park. She wondered about cold cases and if she could make a living solving them. She wouldn’t have to put up with a miserable Theo Maddix anymore. She let her mind wander and dared think of a new career as she drove back to Watford Therapy. It was after all the D.N.A. phenotyping that had incited interest in a career change in the first place. She’d discussed it with Dr. Judas James, the forensic pathologist who had had b
een first on the murder scene, after Windsor and Stopford, at the Croydon Inn. He had directed the forensic team and conducted the autopsy on Sibby’s body. She believed she understood how the D.N.A. phenotyping worked. She was fascinated by it.
She considered calling Stopford and continuing the conversation that night. He had given Milly his business card at celebrations on the night Cailin Stewart was sentenced for Sibby’s murder. It was the same night he had tried to hit on her, when some of the constabulary attending the celebrations bundled him into a taxi, sending him home early; though not before Milly had reciprocated by giving Stopford one of her cards. She wondered if he had been too drunk to remember the exchange.
She didn’t call him, not until a week before she flew back to Australia. She had wanted things to settle between him and Windsor. She called him on Friday morning, five days before she was due to leave.
‘Detective Inspector Greg Stopford,’ answered Stopford to Milly’s call. His tone was upbeat, and it oozed fervor and passion. She hit the red hang-up button on her phone, immediately deciding she didn’t wish to speak to the newly promoted D.I. Greg Stopford. The best-laid plans of mice and men — and women — oft go astray, thought Milly.
‘I wonder what Milly wanted?’ D.I. Stopford asked himself out loud. I’ll call her back later, he decided.
Chapter 3.
On Tuesday, the day before she was due to fly to Australia, Milly and Rosie had scheduled a meeting for 10:00 in the morning with Theo in Rosie’s office. Discussion of a meeting had begun the fortnight before, but Theo had procrastinated, only agreeing to meet at the last minute at Milly’s insistence. He arrived late at the meeting with a colleague, a small, demure Scottish woman with a mouse-like squeak for a voice and a totally disarming manner. Theo introduced her as Annis. I bet you had some fun with that name at school, thought Milly, smiling to herself, as she shook Annis’ small hand. Annis was privately employed in her own business and an expert in U.K. employment law. As it turned out, she was also a good negotiator.
Theo’s motive in employing Annis was totally transparent. If Milly was the bomb, then Annis was the bomb squad. Her mission was to diffuse Milly should the meeting become heated, before she exploded and blurted out something she couldn’t retract. Theo wanted Milly to continue working at Watford Therapy, but he wanted total control. Cunning bugger, thought Milly, as his motive became clear. At a meeting in that same office fifteen months before, he had complied totally with all Milly and Rosie’s demands. It wasn’t in his nature to comply with others — he was the leader, and others followed him. His recent treatment of Milly and changes in her role from seventy-five percent counseling to managing other counselors had broken that agreement and was in breach of her employment contract and job description.
In employing Annis, Theo considered he had moved straight onto the front foot. He was taking control and, with her help, would shoot Milly — and Rosie if need be — down in flames. He hadn’t spoken to Annis to explain his or Milly’s position. She had read the employment contract briefly but hadn’t had time to take it all in. She was working on one day’s notice of a meeting, with no information at all from Theo until that morning. She asked questions to fill in the gaps, to clarify areas of dispute — even to find out what the meeting was for. True to form, though, Theo avoided her questions; he was totally arrogant in his manner.
‘I need clarification on some issues concerning the employment contract between Dr. McTaggart and Watford Therapy, Theo.’
‘Not now, we haven’t got time,’ answered Theo, dismissing Annis with a wave of his hand.
He discounted, too, the lesson taken from Milly that day she had berated him in his car, dismissing her forthrightness, her stubbornness. Milly won’t put it over me this time, thought Theo. Annis had raised the prospect of postponing the meeting so she could do some research, to make Theo’s position clearer too — well, to Theo at least. She had an idea where this was headed, having dealt with the likes of Theo Maddix before. But Milly was leaving for Australia tomorrow, so Theo was further dismissive of Annis and her concerns; they simply didn’t have time. He knew best, and he was in control. He was also in for a rude shock.
The meeting began cordially enough. Annis was an unknown quantity, even to Theo, so initially, both parties trod their paths carefully.
The formalities out of the way, the meeting began.
‘I’ve called this meeting to discuss my role here, especially over the past few months, with particular reference to my job description. As you know, Theo, but for Annis’ benefit,’ said Milly turning her gaze to Annis, ‘the employment contract between Watford Therapy … well, between Theo and me, was ratified and signed as a legal document dated January 5, last year. In it, at my insistence, and with your agreement,’ continued Milly turning back to Theo, ‘there was an addendum added to your original document, stipulating that my job comprised eighty percent counseling. In negotiation, you adjusted it down to seventy percent, and I adjusted it back up to seventy-five percent, and we both agreed and signed it as a bona fide work contract between Dr. Milly McTaggart and Watford Therapy.’
‘Yes, Milly, I agree,’ replied Theo.
‘Well then, by my calculation I have been engaged in counseling clients for just thirty-three percent of my work time here in direct breach of my employment contract and job description.’
‘You have documented proof?’ asked Theo, sounding confident in his tone and manner.
‘Of course I do,’ replied Milly. She reached in under Rosie’s desk and pulled out a briefcase, opening it to reveal myriad time sheets that documented counseling sessions with their dates and times. ‘Now these documents probably don’t mean a lot presented as a lump of paperwork, so for the sake of this meeting I’ve collated all the information and applied it to a spreadsheet. Your copy,’ she said as she handed one of three copies to Theo. The other two were for herself and Rosie. ‘You’ll have to work from Theo’s copy,’ explained Milly. ‘I’m sorry, but he didn’t tell me you would be attending the meeting Annis.’
‘That’s fine,’ replied Annis, looking quickly at the documentation in Milly’s briefcase, before turning her attention to the spreadsheet in Theo’s hand.
‘If you look at the spreadsheet, I’ve added the time taken counseling and applied it to the sum of eight-hour days … in hours. Then I have worked the calculation back in days, 2.64 hours per session to arrive at the figure of thirty-three percent counseling over my period of employment or eight-hour day. The calculations cover the entire period of my employment here, from December 2015.’
‘But you usually work longer than eight-hour days,’ interrupted Theo, trying to confuse the issue, to muddy the waters.
‘Well, that’s a stupid comment to make,’ answered Milly, smiling as she looked at Theo. ‘You know we don’t counsel clients out of hours, so that would make the percentage of time I counsel as a percentage of hours worked even less. I spend most of my time, when I’m not counseling, doing invoices and directing other counselors.’
‘What about all the time you had off for your sister’s court case and funeral? What about the time you are taking off to travel to Australia tomorrow for a court hearing?’ asked Theo, realizing he was losing momentum and being pushed onto the back foot.
‘I’m very sorry, Theo,’ replied Milly. ‘If I were clairvoyant and I’d had Cailin Stewart’s phone number, I would have called him and asked if he wouldn’t mind putting Siobhan’s murder off for a bit. You know, ring, ring, Hi, Cailin, it’s Milly McTaggart calling, I’m Sibby Russell’s twin sister. The reason for my call is to ask if you wouldn’t mind giving me another twelve months before stabbing my twin sister in the heart three times, driving a knife up through her throat into her brain and dropping some other man’s semen all over her dead body. You wouldn’t believe it, but currently, I haven’t got enough holidays owing to take time off for her funeral … just another twelve months, please mate; that would be good. Thanks for your cooperation in this
matter. Cheers Cailin, you’re a fucking great bloke; we must catch up for a coffee some time.’
Rosie was about to burst out laughing as she watched Theo squirm. She suppressed the urge with a concerned smile.
Annis looked shocked and put her hand out steadying herself as she stood and began her role as mediator. ‘Alright, Milly, I have come rather unprepared for this meeting, at Dr. Maddix’s insistence. I believe he wishes to sort this out in good faith and, in his words, it has been boiling away for the past two months at least, and you are flying back to Australia tomorrow.’
‘Longer!’ bit back Milly, looking at the copy of the spreadsheet Annis now held in her hand. ‘You can see looking at the counseling schedules and dates that it has been going on since before we both signed the employment contract. In the initial job advert for the position, Watford Therapy sought a full-time counselor, and that is what I’m paid for. In relation to the conditions ratified in my job description, my position in the past three months has deteriorated markedly.’
‘As for time off,’ butted in Rosie, ‘Milly has been employed at Watford Therapy for approximately fifteen months. You can see in her contract she is entitled to five weeks each year in holiday leave as well as ten days’ bereavement leave, so considering a situation where she had taken no time off until today, she would be entitled to over six weeks’ holiday leave, plus two weeks’ bereavement leave.’
‘I haven’t claimed any bereavement leave. I was happy to take time off for my sister’s funeral as holidays,’ said Milly.