Blunt Force

by La Plante, Lynda

  There was a moment of silence while McDermott considered how to respond, then Justine suddenly let out a guttural scream of rage as she hurled her body across the table and started clawing at DI Miller’s face. She managed to grab hold of his tie, dragging him towards her so he fell face-down onto the table. Still holding tightly to his tie with her left hand, she began to punch his head with her right hand, all the while screaming, ‘No! No! NO!’

  Completely unnerved, McDermott was slow to react. But Tyler managed to get hold of Justine’s arm and haul her away. She attempted to bite his hand, then fell to the floor, frothing at the mouth as her legs kicked out in some sort of fit.

  Tyler rushed to the door and called to the custody sergeant: ‘Get a doctor – quick!’

  *

  Jane was at her desk when Spencer hurried in to tell her that Justine Harris had attacked DI Miller. Miller appeared in the incident room with a bloodied handkerchief held to his face, his nose bleeding profusely. He went straight into Tyler’s office, instructing Jane to get him a cup of tea and some paracetamol.

  Justine Harris had been taken into the small medical room by the canteen, accompanied by McDermott and the station doctor.

  By the time DCI Tyler entered the incident room, calm had been restored. Jane asked him if he would like a cup of tea and told him that DI Miller was in his office.

  Tyler ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Christ almighty . . . is he all right? We’re going to need one of the girls from the canteen to clean up in interview room one. Yes, I could murder a cup of tea . . . although perhaps that’s not quite the word I should be using.’

  The canteen was busy as Jane, together with a young probationer, collected a bucket, mop and disinfectant to take to interview room one. There was a congealing pool of blood on the table and some spattering on the floor, which they dealt with quickly, returning the bucket and mop to the canteen.

  When she got back to her desk, Spencer was shaking his head in disbelief. ‘She only jumped across the table and punched Miller on the nose!’

  Jane couldn’t help but smile; she had felt like doing that to Miller many times herself.

  ‘It’s serious, Jane. She might have busted his nose. He’s gone to the hospital for a check-up, while that smarmy QC is sitting upstairs with Wonder Woman. Apparently she’s perfectly all right and wants to continue with the interview.’

  Jane shook her head in disbelief. ‘She’s not going to be charged? Are you serious?’

  ‘That’s what I’ve been told.’ Spencer turned as Tyler came out of his office wearing a clean shirt. He took Jane to one side.

  ‘I need you to accompany me, but if you’re concerned about it, I’ll get Spence. I just feel that having another woman in the room might keep her calm.’

  Jane was anxious not to show how eager she was, but immediately opened her desk drawer to take out her notebook. She couldn’t resist giving Spencer a raised eyebrow as she knew he would have loved to be in on the action.

  They went back into the disinfectant-doused interview room one. Tyler gave Jane a brief rundown of exactly what had occurred and where they had reached when Justine had lost control. He was clearly still quite shaken.

  ‘She was like an animal – and strong: she lifted DI Miller off his feet and right across the table.’ Tyler chewed at his bottom lip. ‘I don’t know whether it was the right thing to do not to prepare Mr Smooth Operator for the parking ticket, but Miller wanted an element of surprise . . . and we certainly got that! She was totally out of control.’

  ‘Well, she used to be a very successful actress; you don’t think she could have been acting, do you?’

  Tyler shrugged. ‘If she was, I don’t know what she thought she could accomplish by doing something that crazy.’ He folded his arms.

  ‘Well, it’s given her some time to think,’ Jane replied.

  There was a knock on the door and a uniformed officer appeared. ‘They’re on their way, sir.’

  Justine appeared to be a completely different character. She was composed and straight-backed, politely thanking McDermott when he pulled the chair back for her to sit down.

  ‘Thank you for agreeing to see me again,’ she said, turning to Tyler with a demure smile. Again, she ignored Jane, keeping her focus entirely on Tyler, who now read her her rights for the second time.

  If McDermott had been shocked by Justine’s previous behaviour, he didn’t show any sign of it now. Once again, he took immediate control of the interview.

  ‘My client now wishes to explain why she lied. I also hope you will accept her apology for wasting police time. You have to understand that she was simply trying to protect her daughter and had not realised the importance of the timeframe.’ He held his hands out, palms up. ‘She desperately wants to apologise for her earlier behaviour, but you must understand that she suffers from a number of challenging mental conditions that need to be controlled with medication.’

  Justine lowered her eyes and smiled sadly, and Jane wondered which of them, Justine or her QC, was the better actor.

  McDermott turned towards Justine. It should have been Tyler asking her to explain the parking ticket, but he seemed tongue-tied as McDermott resumed.

  ‘Justine, I want you to tell them why you were parked on a meter close to your ex-husband’s flat. But if you feel that at any time you are unable to continue, then I advise you to request the return of the doctor, as you are here on a possible serious charge and could be forced to remain in custody.’

  Tyler knew he was right. If Justine could not give an acceptable answer then she could be charged.

  She looked towards McDermott, as if for permission to speak, and he gave her an encouraging nod.

  Tyler leant forward slightly. ‘Did you, Ms Harris, go to your ex-husband’s flat in Onslow Square on that Monday afternoon?’

  Justine looked over to McDermott again.

  ‘Just explain exactly why you were there at that time,’ he encouraged her.

  She bowed her head again and began twisting her fingers. ‘After the divorce, Charles began to make things difficult because we had joint custody. I had fully agreed with him that he could, when Clara was home from school, stay at the house. In reality, some time before we even divorced, we were sleeping in separate bedrooms, but over the past year it had become unbearable. It wasn’t just when Clara was at home for the weekend; he was making it permanent and would simply turn up and often be abusive. These occasions began to form a pattern. He would be unpleasant towards me, although he was never physically abusive: he would scream and rant, then start sobbing like a child, begging me to forgive him.’

  ‘Were you aware of his sexual deviances?’ Jane asked.

  Justine took an intake of breath and looked up. ‘Yes, of course I was. How could I not be? It wasn’t something that just occurred overnight. It went on for years and years. Even in those instances when I was so naive and caught him out going to prostitutes, he would react by weeping and crying like a child. He blamed his mother and said that she had been cruel and had never loved him. In answer to your question, I did know about it but I didn’t know the lengths he was going to in the latter part of his life. I had even suggested to him that he should see a psychiatrist. But to someone like Charles, that was an insult to his intelligence. Our tempestuous relationship had been a rollercoaster for so many years and I found it excruciatingly difficult to deal with him. I gave up my career for him. I financed him when he first began as an agent. But the more successful he became, the more I felt he despised me.’

  Tyler coughed. ‘Could you please just answer the question about the parking ticket?’

  ‘I am getting to it,’ she replied, with a hint of annoyance, as if a member of the audience had interrupted one of her performances. Once again, Jane could see a different character appearing. She no longer held her hands demurely in her lap but was gesturing expressively.

  ‘Fine, if you don’t want all the details.’ She sighed dramatically. ‘
I had always refused to clean his bedroom in the house. I have a cleaner called Abby and she would occasionally wash his bed linen and do other bits of laundry, but in the last few weeks I wouldn’t allow her to do anything for him. I just wanted him to leave me alone.’ She put her hands down flat on the table. ‘He appeared not to accept the fact that he didn’t actually live there. If he had a premiere to go to, his clothes were left at the house. He blatantly ignored the fact that I didn’t want him using my home. On that Monday, I had had enough. Abby called me up to his bedroom. On his bedside table he had left small plastic bags of cocaine. There were more bags on the dressing table, just casually left there. The room smelt of body odour and Abby was quite distressed as she had also found pornographic magazines left lying around. I decided that I would go and tell him that if he didn’t leave me alone, I would sell the house and move away. There was no point in me changing the locks, he would just have broken a window. Charles was aggressive and obsessive, especially where I was concerned. I drove to Onslow Square and had to drive around three or four times before I found a parking meter. I was scared.’

  Jane held her hand up. ‘Could I ask you, Ms Harris, as it was in the afternoon, how did you know Mr Foxley would be at home?’

  Justine hesitated. ‘I called him. First I rang the agency, and they told me he wasn’t there. Then I called his flat and spoke to him. He opened the door and he was holding Toots, the little dachshund. He was immediately wary, asking me why I was there. I tried to remain as calm as I could and we went into the kitchen. I told him that he had to stop coming to the house and that he had left drugs in his room, which at any time Clara could have taken. At first he did his usual denial, but then when I told him that I was serious, he became belligerent and accused me of being to blame for everything. I was quite used to his accusations as he had been jealous throughout our entire marriage. The reason I did not disclose that I had seen him was because when I saw what had happened to him, I did not want to be involved. That was the sole reason that I lied.’

  Tyler looked over to Jane. Justine sat back in her chair as though the interview was now finished.

  ‘So, you just left, after you say that he became belligerent and made accusations against you?’ Jane asked.

  Justine nodded. ‘Yes . . . when he was like that there was no point in trying to reason with him, so I left.’

  ‘You have said that your ex-husband was never physically abusive towards you. Were you scared of him? Particularly that afternoon, when you told him that he was no longer able to stay at your house?’

  Justine made an odd movement, twisting her body, as if she was trying to escape from something.

  ‘He had threatened me,’ she said finally.

  ‘Did he threaten you that afternoon?’ Tyler asked.

  ‘If you have been listening to what I’m saying, it must be obvious, isn’t it?’

  McDermott straightened up in his chair. Justine was flexing her hand and curling it into a tight fist. He leant towards her.

  ‘Now is the opportunity for you to tell them exactly what happened, Justine. There is no need for you to protect his reputation now.’

  She sighed and made a slight hissing sound, then bowed her head and spoke softly, so she was barely audible. ‘I hit him.’

  ‘Could you repeat that, please?’ Tyler asked.

  ‘I HIT HIM!’ she almost shouted. She took a deep breath before continuing. ‘He threatened me and said he would call someone to throw me out. I decided that it was pointless talking to him. He was becoming agitated, so I walked down the hallway to let myself out. I did not plan it, it just happened. There was a cricket bat, which he always kept by the front door. I knew he was going to try to stop me leaving. I picked it up and I swung it. I think it caught him on the side of the head and he lost his footing and hit the wall. He started crying and, as always, began begging me for forgiveness, but this time – and this was the first time – I did not feel an overriding sense of pity for him. Instead, I said something that I have never said to him before. Charles had a terrible guilt complex, which was the seed of his self-hatred. He believed that he had killed his brother, Tommy. I had always reassured him that it wasn’t his fault, but I told him that I knew he had hidden Tommy’s inhaler and deliberately provoked an asthma attack. I then repeated what his aunt Eunice had told me.’

  Jane looked up sharply, recalling Foxley’s aunt Eunice telling her that she had not seen Justine for many years.

  ‘It was at Clara’s christening. I think she felt ashamed because of her humble background, and it’s true that Charles had behaved appallingly towards her. Anyway, that was when she told me about what he had done to his brother. She also told me that his mother had blamed him and had eaten herself to death. She was grossly overweight when she died. I never told him that I knew. Whenever he became hysterical, it was almost as if he was reverting to being a child, slapping himself in the face, screaming, “It was not my fault, it was not my fault,” but I think his mother always blamed him and he had been consumed by that knowledge all his life.’ Tears streamed down her face. ‘I drove home and was terrified that he would come after me. When he didn’t turn up, I called him, but he didn’t answer.’

  Tyler had been taking notes, and now held up his pencil. ‘Ms Harris, could you just describe to me again how you struck Mr Foxley with the cricket bat?’

  She closed her eyes and sighed. ‘Well, I just told you that I thought he was coming after me. I just picked it up and I swung it.’

  ‘Where exactly did you strike him with the cricket bat?’

  She touched the right side of her head. ‘I almost missed . . . It was just a sort of glancing blow.’

  ‘Did it draw blood?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. As I said, I almost missed him.’

  Jane made a note and passed it to Tyler. Bat had handle rope: no prints. Blunt force was to the back of the skull.

  Tyler glanced at Jane’s note. ‘So, Ms Harris, after you had struck Mr Foxley with the cricket bat, what did you do with it?’

  Again, she shrugged her shoulders. ‘Well, I just threw it aside because he was still standing. I thought he was going to try and stop me, and that is when I ran out. The following day, when I still hadn’t heard from him, I was worried that I might have really hurt him and that was why I went back to his flat. Then . . . I saw his body.’

  Tyler nodded. ‘So you went home. What time did you call Mr Foxley?’

  ‘It must have been about nine p.m.’

  Tyler made a note. If Justine was telling the truth, they now had a solid timeframe for the murder. Foxley was alive at 5.30 p.m. but did not pick up the phone at 9 p.m., presumably because he was already dead.

  After a few more formalities, Justine was released from custody and McDermott offered to drive her home. He also agreed that her passport would be retained; she would not be allowed to leave the country with the possibility of an assault charge against her.

  It had been a long day. Jane watched from a window in the ladies, which overlooked the car park, and saw McDermott guiding Justine into the passenger side of his Bentley. He tucked a blanket around her before closing the door. Tyler was standing to one side and she watched as the two men shook hands before McDermott got into the driver’s side and drove out of the police yard.

  *

  Tyler came back into the incident room and stood by the board, writing up the time and date that Justine had been released from custody, while Jane sat at her desk typing up her report of the interview. Part of her did not want to believe Justine’s story because she always seemed to be acting. But she couldn’t help feeling that she was also a genuinely tortured woman.

  Tyler looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders as he slowly moved along the incident board, which was now taking up almost the entire length of the room. He looked back to the expectant faces of the gathered officers.

  ‘We’re back to square one,’ he said.

  CHAPTER EIGH
TEEN

  The next morning Jane had showered and blow-dried her hair in plenty of time so she could have breakfast at the station. Before getting in the shower she had put in a call to Elliott, but there had been no reply. She decided to try again before leaving, with the same result. However, when she got down to the front door, her mail had been delivered and there was the acceptance of her membership for the rifle club. There was a note welcoming her and suggesting she keep the enclosed card in a safe place. The card gave the code for the garage doors. She would be given the club door’s entry code from the secretary because security was, at all times, uppermost in their minds.

  Jane placed the card in her wallet and was now even more eager to have another session, preferably with Elliott; she realised, with a touch of surprise, that after their last meeting at Gravesend that she was beginning to rather like him.

  *

  Jane was at her desk when Miller walked in with two pads of cotton wool in his nostrils. There was also a red-purple bruise around his right eye. The young detectives quickly smothered their sniggers as Miller approached Jane.

  She looked up.

  ‘We didn’t find any drugs at Foxley’s flat, but we know from the post-mortem that he had a high quantity of cocaine and amphetamines in his system. I believe Justine Harris lied because we know from the search at her house that there was cocaine and amphetamines in his bedroom. I have every intention of arranging a further interview with Ms Harris.’

  ‘We know she knew her ex-husband was at home on the afternoon of his murder. Do you think Justine took him the drugs?’

  Miller’s mouth tightened. ‘I would have thought, Tennison, that was obvious.’ He crooked a finger for her to join him at the incident board. Miller pointed to the first day of the investigation.

  ‘Sergeant Tennison, I want every date matched and every alibi reconfirmed.’