“Tina, love, I don’t think you’re very well.”
“I think you’re right,” she agreed in a small voice, “but I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Well, I think I do. Will you let me help you?”
“Help me? I’m not sure anyone can. I just can’t seem to shake off this tiredness and guilt. And the more you help around the house and with Daniel, the worse I feel.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant, Tina,” he said and went on to relay his conversation with their doctor.
To start with Tina stiffened at the thought that she needed to go and see a doctor, especially when Crane uttered the words ‘post-natal depression’. But as he explained, she gradually relaxed against him. The first thing he stressed was that having this type of depression didn’t mean Tina was a bad mother, or that she was unable to cope.
He then said, “The GP said to ask you two questions. This is the first one: during the past month, have you often been bothered by feeling down, depressed or hopeless?”
Crane knew the answer to this question, but realised Tina had to acknowledge it herself. By acknowledging it, she would be more open to help.
As Tina nodded her head in reply, he asked his second question. “Okay love, how about; during the past month have you often been bothered by taking little or no pleasure in doing things that normally made you happy?”
Again the nod.
So it was a very relieved Crane who went to his briefcase in the hall and took out his timetable. He even got a smile from Tina, when he showed her the legion of people who had agreed to come and help on a rota basis.
29
Crane closed his eyes and then rubbed them, as though trying to rub away the words contained in Private Turner’s statement. What a way to start the day, he thought. He was sickened by both the young lad’s experience and the fact that a soldier could do such a thing to anyone. Never mind to a fellow soldier and to someone who Fitch was supposed to be responsible for.
Turning back to the statement in his hands, he read once again how Lance Corporal Fitch had burst into Private Turner’s bedroom in the single men’s accommodation. He whirled Turner around, pushed him face down on the bed and then forced himself on the hapless young soldier. In the middle of all this, luckily, (or unluckily whichever way you looked at it from Staff Sgt Jones’ point of view) Jones arrived at Turner’s room. Hearing a scuffle and muffled cries, Jones battered down the door, flew into the room and caught Fitch in flagrante. The statement then relayed the examination Turner was subjected to, when the doctor collected forensic evidence from his body. But more importantly Turner named Fitch, in writing, as the man who had been attacking him systematically over the past few months.
When Billy arrived to do a forensic examination of the room, Turner was discreetly moved into St Omer Village, where he would stay until Crane decided he didn’t need him around anymore. He would also be on compassionate leave until the court-martial of Fitch.
Crane knew he had to get used to calling St Omer Barracks, St Omer Village. The concrete tower block called St Omer Barracks was demolished some time ago and rebuilt with modular units used to house athletes during the London 2012 Olympic Games.
The old concrete structure used to house the Army Catering School, where a tribe of Sgt Majors from the Army Catering Corp whipped new chefs into shape. There the recruits undertook a rigorous training programme, ensuring that chefs attached to Regiments were able to cater for hundreds of soldiers, no matter what their location - in barracks, out in the field, or in times of war. Indeed, many chefs perished on the Sir Galahad during the Falkland’s War, where they were waiting to disembark to provide support for the front line troops.
The other thing St Omer Barracks was famous for was that the chefs there made the cake for Princess Diana’s wedding to Prince Charles, together with all the petit fours for the reception.
Turner should be quite comfortable in St Omer Village with all its new facilities. It now boasted The HUB, a dining centre for serving personnel. It also had a convenience store, a licensed bar, an internet café and TV screens showing popular sporting events. Other amenities included The Physical and Recreation Training Centre (P&RTC) and The Junior Ranks Pub.
Aware that he was procrastinating by thinking about how things used to be on Aldershot Garrison, Crane turned his attention back to the file. Turner’s statement was peppered with expletives. The picture emerging was one of a young man who was angry about the attacks. Crane imagined Turner would be relieved it was all over, as he realised Fitch couldn’t touch him anymore. Crane thought the anger a bit strange, but to be honest, knew he had no experience of these things and so had no idea how victims would normally react to being repeatedly raped.
He knew that young soldiers, generally speaking, got very angry from time to time, mostly at those in authority. But eventually they learned to cope with constantly being shouted at, from shouted orders or from being given a dressing down. Still, Crane made a note of Turner’s anger on the file.
He was still thinking about Turner when he realised his phone was ringing. Thinking it may be Tina, he snatched it up.
“Sir, we’re waiting for you in the conference room for the briefing about Saturday night.”
“Oh, right, thanks, Billy, I’ll be there in a minute.”
Crane didn’t know if he was pleased the phone call wasn’t from Tina, or not. As it wasn’t, it meant she was doing alright. But on the other hand, he couldn’t wait to hear how she went on at the doctors. Either way, he had work to do, so collecting his files he pushed his domestic problems to the back of his mind and strode out of the door.
30
“I can’t believe we’re doing this, Crane.”
“Oh stop moaning, Derek,” Crane grinned, as he put his files in front of the seat next to the policeman. Glad the boot was on the other foot for once and it wasn’t Anderson telling him to stop moaning. After putting his suit jacket across the back of the chair, Crane moved to the whiteboard and began the briefing.
“First of all, thanks to everyone for coming along and particular thanks to Kim for agreeing to help try and trap her…attacker.”
Crane noticed Kim’s head was down and she was looking at her hands in her lap. Dressed in civvies, as she was still on compassionate leave, she was sitting next to Padre Symmonds. Crane watched as the Padre touched her arm and she lifted her head to look at him, managing a small smile.
“Staff Sgt Jones, you first please.”
Crane dragged his attention away from Kim, determined to get on with the job. He knew this was the best way he could help her, by finding and prosecuting the bastard responsible - even if he was a squaddie.
“Thank you, sir,” Jones began. He was dressed in fatigues, standing out in his army uniform, as everyone else at the meeting was dressed in civvies.
“As you know we normally have two jeeps patrolling Aldershot on a Saturday night. This is being increased to four, each with two RMPs in. I can put more on the streets, but I don’t want to make our presence too obvious and scare the bugger away, if that’s alright with you, sir?”
Crane nodded his agreement and Jones went on to outline the timings and routes the jeeps would take. This information was highlighted with a Power Point presentation, showing maps of Aldershot town centre and the routes the RMPs would take. He also confirmed a group of four RMPs would be dressed in ‘civvies’ in the pub.
When Jones finished, Crane asked Anderson to take over. He confirmed the presence of extra police on duty patrolling the streets. Also some off-duty policemen had agreed to have a couple of drinks in The Goose as a favour to him, popping in at various times during the evening.
“The main concern I have at this moment,” Anderson continued, “is that our, or rather Sgt Major Crane’s suspect, Yasin Whadi, may have become so frightened by the vigorous interviewing he’s been subjected to, that he deliberately won’t be on the prowl on Saturday night.”
“I have to di
sagree there, Derek,” Crane said. “I think he’s an arrogant little shit. The type who doesn’t thinks he can’t get caught. He probably thinks he can get one over on us. No, I reckon we’ve made sure he’ll be there. He’ll want to prove that he can do what he likes, right under our noses.”
“Fair enough,” Anderson conceded. “Only time will tell if you’re right, Crane.”
Anderson, having finished his briefing, returned to his seat around the table.
It was then Billy’s turn. He confirmed he had his ‘penguin suit’ at the ready and would be on the door with the regular bouncers from 19:00 hours. Should any one ask why there was an extra body helping out, the cover story would be that he was a trainee gaining valuable work experience. Crane knew Billy would take some stick for that from the rest of SIB and smiled at the prospect.
Kim and the Padre confirmed they would arrive around 21:00 hours. Kim explained that she couldn’t do this on her own, which was why she’d asked the Padre to be her ‘date’ for the night. Crane wondered out loud if this might make the man stalking Kim even angrier, but Anderson disagreed. His opinion was that this could be a good thing. If the suspect was angry he may make a mistake and therefore become more obvious and easier to identify and restrain.
As the meeting broke up, Crane wandered over to Kim.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“Holding up, sir, thank you.”
“This is a very brave thing you’re doing, you know, Kim.”
“Is it sir? It doesn’t feel it.”
“Well it is. It means you’re standing up to your attacker. Not letting him get away with it. So take a deep breath and hold your head up. Come on, you can do it.”
Crane was pleased to see Kim straighten her shoulders and make an attempt to stand tall. He realised she has a long way to go yet, but hoped his plan would give her some self-esteem and self-confidence back and give her a sense of taking back control of her life.
As Crane left the building, he paused for a cigarette in the car park and recognised the similarities in the two cases of rape he was investigating. Similarities for the victims, that was. Both had been subjected to a horrific attack. Both of them had to bear the ignominy of an intimate examination. They were both dealing with the prejudice that comes with being raped, other people taking the view that it was ‘the victim’s fault’ somehow. Kim’s fault for wearing provocative clothes, or Turner’s for displaying homosexual tendencies. Crane had to admit to himself that before these cases, that was his attitude. Very much a case of ‘well they asked for it’. But now he knew better, had learned that lesson, but -was ashamed at the thought of the trauma the victims had gone through in order for him to do so.
As he ground out his cigarette under foot, he once more pushed his worries that someone could get hurt on Saturday night to the back of his mind and walked into Provost Barracks to interview Fitch.
A Letter to Billy
Dear Billy
I constantly question myself. Is this all my fault? Do I have homosexual tendencies that I unconsciously use to attract other men? Will I ever be able to have a normal heterosexual relationship after this is over, or am I really a closet homosexual? I can’t get past the things he made me do, not only to him but to myself. He made me shave down there, because he preferred me that way. A small matter, you may say, but to me it was another form of control. Of making sure he was in my mind every time I went to the toilet, changed my clothes or took a shower.
I used to find it easy to get a girlfriend or just a one-night stand when I wanted sex. I used to enjoy female company, enjoyed the flirting, the banter and then the thrill of a new relationship. But now I fear that is all gone. I fear I’ll never be able to get past what this bastard has done to me. He’s not only ruined my army life, he’s ruined my sex life as well.
So make sure you lock him up and throw away the key, as they say. He needs to pay for the rest of his life for what he’s done to me. I know I will.
31
There were three of them in the interview room in Provost Barracks; Crane, Billy and Lance Corporal Fitch. A blank room, with nothing to catch the eye, nothing to detract from the interview about to take place. As he looked Fitch over, Crane was surprised by the Lance Corporal’s appearance, half expecting a bull of a man, someone big enough to physically overpower Seb Turner. Instead he saw a gangly youth leaning back in his chair, all arms and legs and sharp points.
“Have you forgotten something, Lance Corporal?” Crane barked.
Fitch took his time getting off the chair and standing to attention.
“I should bloody well think so.”
But instead of an apology, all Crane gets was a barely concealed sneer.
“Right, sit down.”
Crane indicated the chair Fitch had just vacated and then sat down himself. He didn’t take off his suit jacket and neither did Billy. Crane wanting this interview to be as formal as possible. He took his time opening his file, glancing at it, then silently studying Fitch. Billy, equally silent, moved to sit next to Crane. But Fitch seemed unmoved, and simply stared back.
“So, Lance Corporal, I understand you know Private Sebastian Turner?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How do you know him?
“He’s in my Unit, sir.”
“I know that, Lance Corporal. Would you say you have a more personal relationship with him?”
“No comment, sir.”
“No comment, Lance Corporal?”
Billy took a photograph out of the file in front of Crane.
“That’s an unusual answer, at least judging by this photograph.”
Billy turned one of the more graphic photographs of Fitch in Seb Turner’s room, to face him.
Crane noticed Fitch briefly close his eyes before he said, “No comment, sir.”
“According to Staff Sgt Jones of the Royal Military Police, it seems you have a rather intimate relationship with Turner. At least from what he saw with his own eyes and from what you said to him. What did Fitch here say, Billy?” asked Crane.
Billy picked up Staff Sgt Jones’ statement and read: “I’ve done nothing wrong. It was consensual. We’ve been having a relationship for some time now.”
“Is that correct, Fitch? Did you say that to Staff Sgt Jones?” asked Crane.
This time Fitch didn’t even manage a, ‘no comment’.
“Are you calling my Staff Sgt a liar, Lance Corporal? I certainly hope not because if you are that’ll be another charge to add to the list.”
“The list, sir, what list?”
“Let me see.”
Crane made a play of looking in the file for the right piece of paper. He held it up and said, “The rape of Private Turner, assault upon the person of the said Private, breaking and entering Private Turner’s room with intent to assault…need I go on?”
“No, sir.”
“Excellent, Fitch,” Crane said, putting down the blank piece of paper he was reading from. “Let’s start again. Were you having an intimate relationship with Private Turner?”
“Yes, sir, but it was consensual,” the sneer briefly returned.
But it disappeared again when Crane said, “So, do you deny raping Private Turner?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you deny assaulting Private Turner?” Billy asked.
“Yes, sir,” Fitch turned his head to address Billy.
“What about breaking and entering Turner’s room. Do you deny that as well?”
“Sir.” Fitch was looking down at the table and managed a nod.
“Oh dear,” Crane said. “In that case you’ve got a bit of a problem, Fitch. Because we’ve got the evidence to prove you did all those things and you haven’t got any to prove you didn’t.”
“It was consensual, sir,” Fitch repeated his mantra.
“Well, lad, you might say that, but God knows how your brief’s going to persuade a court-martial to believe you. Charge him, Billy,” Crane said and left the room.
/>
***
“What do you think, Jones?”
Crane and Jones were standing in the cold outside the barracks, having a quick cigarette. Whilst Crane realised he should give up smoking, he welcomed the time he spent in contemplation in the car park, even though he sometimes stood in a biting wind, as he was now.
“Little shit,” said Jones, as he exhaled his cigarette smoke.
“Actually, rather a tall little shit, wouldn’t you say? Not exactly the physique I was expecting. He towered over me.”
“No, he’s not what I expected either,” agreed Jones. “I reckon he’s done a lot of his bullying by pulling rank. Frightening the poor sod Turner into going along with it. Making sure he didn’t say anything by threatening him. Maybe he was picking on him in front of the other lads. That would’ve helped to isolate Turner and made him more reliant on Fitch. Perhaps Turner was hoping that if he didn’t report the bullying, Fitch would stop undermining and humiliating him.”
“That’s a good point, Staff. I’ll get Billy to get another statement from Turner about that. We’ll also interview the other soldiers in the Unit. See if they witnessed Fitch bullying Turner. I think the lawyers will want that sort of stuff. They’ll want to show bullying and assault over a period of time if they can.”
32
The thumping beat of the music emanating from three different pubs within a few yards of each other was giving Crane a headache. He was lurking in the entrance to the shopping centre along Victoria Road. Opposite them was The Queens Head (or the Hogs Head as people called it) and a few yards down the road past The Goose was Yates. The Goose was located on the corner of Victoria Road and Wellington Street. Crane wished he could get closer to the pub. The corner opposite The Goose would have been good, but there was more of a chance of a suspect seeing them there. Crane was dressed casually in cargo pants and polo shirt, with a large jacket on, in an attempt to cut out the cold. As he saw young girls passing him, barely dressed, he wondered how they coped with the low temperature. Or was his age showing? No one else seemed to have coats on apart from him and Anderson.
A Soldier's Honour Box Set 1 (Sgt Major Crane Crime Thrillers Box Set) Page 53