Hours of Harley’s sessions with William Downer had been divided into batches and each of the team had their own segment to listen to. By Monday the recordings had been sorted by their relevance to the case. The first two months of sessions contained little except Harley talking about minor incidents at school, all of which pointed to him being a lonely teen who interacted little with others in his classes and had almost zero friends.
After Easter, Downer convinced Harley to let himself be put under hypnosis and there were a series of sessions where he spoke about his relationship with his mother and father.
“It’s pretty disturbing stuff,” Idris told Bex. “It bolsters Isla’s theory about Harley Carroll being traumatized. These recordings are now on the list of materials prosecution haven’t disclosed as evidence. Isla really should hear them. Shall I call her to come into the office?”
A pen danced between his fingers and over the tops of his knuckles as he waited for her response. Bex gathered thoughts which were continually straying to Zane. Earlier that morning she’d been forced to leave the office abruptly to run to the bathroom to have a quiet cry. Today was a terrible day to listen to Harley’s disturbing admissions because emotionally she was a mess. She hated to present a less than professional presence to her team.
“Bex, shall I call Isla to listen to Downer’s sessions?”
Blinking her eyes several times to camouflage her welling tears, she battled through the sadness that dogged every action to focus on Idris’s question.
“Sorry, Idris, what did you want to do with the new evidence?”
“We need to make a disclosure to Harley’s lawyer. Shall I call Isla into the office?”
“I’ll handle it, Idris.”
“Right, then, I’ll leave you to it.” Idris’s tone was brusque, but she ignored his reaction.
She was still running interference between her sergeant and Quinn’s wife. Especially now that Quinn hadn’t requested a transfer. The atmosphere between team members after several rounds had been consumed at the Sail and Ale had mellowed sufficiently for Bex to feel comfortable about broaching her plan for a teen drop-in club. After disposing of Quinn’s jest of “Rubbish! All kids need is a bloody good kick up the arse when they stray!” she had persuaded everyone to contribute suggestions and coaxed offers of help. By the end of the night Quinn had grudgingly agreed to chat to his gym-owning mate, Tony, about any cast off equipment.
* * *
When Isla met Bex downstairs at the Bridesmead CID, she felt the other woman was hustling her out of the way when she led her into a closed meeting room barely larger than her office at Ironrod Lyons Freemont. Furnished with a round table and six chairs, it was intimate to say the least.
She settled her briefcase and purse on a spare chair and seated herself opposite Bex. Appraisingly, Isla watched the other woman set up her laptop, wondering why Bex didn’t do more to make the most of her looks. With her blonde hair, white as Alpine snow, glittering, metal gray eyes and defined cheekbones, Bex would have been a real beauty had her face not been so gaunt. Her eyes raked Bex’s lean, athletic form critically. The loose-cut, dark gray pantsuit she wore, while practical for her line of work, did nothing to enhance her femininity.
While Quinn never had anything good to say about Bex, he sometimes left Isla wondering if he wasn’t too vehement in his negativity, so she was pleased that Bex exuded so little sex-appeal. In that department Isla knew where she stood with her husband.
Reflexively, she ran a hand over her rose skirt with its discreet slit to smooth out the creases, aware that had she followed in her father’s footsteps she might have been relegated to the same fashion choices. In the end, law was a better match for her bold personality and allowed her to play the coquettish card when she judged it necessary. It certainly wasn’t necessary with Bex, she decided, giving her husband’s boss another once over. It wasn’t often she felt at a disadvantage with a woman, but Bex had witnessed Isla when she was at her most vulnerable and that left an uncomfortable residue between them.
“You and Idris looked good together that night at the charity gala. You’d make a great couple. You’re not seeing anyone are you?” Isla spoke with casual indifference, belied by her eagle eyed squint. She was interested to get the lay of the land on Bex’s relationship status.
Bex’s eyes flew open at the suggestion and her fair skin colored dramatically.
“Are you angling to get me sued for sexual harassment in the workplace?”
“Don’t sweat it, it was just a casual observation.” Isla pouted. “Quinn told me you want to set up a club for troubled kids. I’m not sure that’s a recipe for success but I encouraged Quinn to do his bit and ask Tony to sponsor the project by donating his worn out punching bags, if that helps.”
“You did?” Bex’s voice registered her surprise. “I guess I’ll owe you if Tony comes on board because it really will help.”
Awkwardness carved the silence between them. Isla hadn’t had a conversation with Bex since July when she had found herself involved in the sex-slave kidnapping of Morgan’s daughters. She dropped her eyes to her manicured nails as she cleared her throat.
“Actually, I guess I’m the one who owes you. I’m not particularly good at saying ‘thank you’, but, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you were on hand at that school. I really don’t know what would have happened to me otherwise. Let me know if you need any free legal advice in setting up that club. I’d be willing to help out.”
Silence fell heavy between them. Isla doubted for a moment that she had done the right thing. Perhaps it was a case of too little too late and she had offended the other woman?
“I didn’t expect any thanks. I was just doing my job, Isla,” Bex said eventually.
Her voice was loaded with tears and it caught Isla off guard. She hadn’t expected to have touched Bex so deeply.
Bex raked a hand through her thick hair and assumed a business-like manner.
“There are hours of recordings from Dr. Downer’s sessions with Harley, but there are some that are more pertinent to the case than others,” she said crisply. “If you’re ready, I’ll play them for you.”
“Ready when you are.”
The words escaped as more of a challenge than Isla intended. Luckily Bex seemed distracted and didn’t react.
Bex tapped her laptop and a sibilant hiss filled the air between them before William Downer’s voice issued from the speakers.
WILLIAM DOWNER: Sit down in a relaxed fashion, Harley. Place one hand on each of your knees, palm down. Look at one of your hands. I want you to watch that hand. Concentrate on that hand as you listen to the sound of my voice. Remember our trigger word, Harley? I want you to close your eyes, let your shoulders drop and keep focusing on my voice. When I touch you lightly on the hand and say the word ‘sleep’ you will slip into this relaxed state that you’ve been in before. You will feel comfortable and relaxed and drowsy. You will be happy to answer my questions. Go back in time, Harley. Go back five years, ten years. Go back to when you were six years old. Did you have a favorite toy, Harley? What was your favorite toy that you liked playing with the most?
HARLEY CARROLL: Monkey. Monkey is my best friend. He keeps the boogey man away.
WD: And do you play with Monkey when you come home from school?
HC: Yes. I want to take Monkey to school but mummy won’t let me. She says the other kids will tease me. Mummy says kids can be mean.
Isla bit her cheek at the sound of Harley’s voice trembling on the verge of tears. Downer’s words easing Harley into hypnosis had set up a trigger word that she had inadvertently used when she touched his hand at their first meeting. Now she understood how her actions had sent the suggestible Harley into a trance whereby he truthfully answered her questions under hypnosis and then denied his statements when he was no longer under hypnotic control.
She brought her attention back to the voices in the recording.
WD: What does your daddy say about Mo
nkey?
There was silence stretching over several seconds.
WD: Harley, does your daddy like Monkey?
HC: Daddy says I don’t need Monkey to sleep with at night. Daddy says he’ll sleep with me to keep the boogey man away. I don’t want you, Daddy. I want Monkey. Please get out of my bed, Daddy!
Isla found her pulse racing at the sound of Harley’s high-pitched, distressed voice.
WD: Why don’t you want Daddy to sleep in your bed with you, Harley?
HC: (Sobbing.) It hurts. It always hurts when Daddy comes to bed with me. I just want Monkey. Please, Daddy, can I just take Monkey to bed?
Harley’s low, keening sobs increased until they verged on hysteria while in the background were sounds of cushions being pummeled and furniture being moved. Downer ended the session at that point.
Isla found herself gripping her hands in white-knuckled anxiety and dropped them into her lap to hide them from Bex’s view.
“Are you prepared to listen to more? They get more harrowing as Downer progresses with the sessions,” Bex told her.
“Do they detail Keith’s sexual abuse of Harley?”
At Bex’s nod, Isla steeled herself. “Yes, I need to know everything. This contributes towards his state of mind at the time of the murders.”
There were five more sessions, which became a litany of Harley’s abuse at the hands of his father. Isla chided herself for her squeamishness. If it was difficult for her to listen to, then how much worse had it been for Harley to live through? In the last session, Harley revealed more of Keith’s plans to use him in his position as a Kids Commando leader to keep grooming younger kids to serve his perversions.
WD: What is it that you dislike about Kids Commando?
HC: He’s made me become a leader so I can gain the little kids’ trust. I loathe myself. I take photos of the kids on my phone and he looks them over like he’s on a shopping spree. When he picks one out I’ve got to concentrate on that kid until they feel comfortable with me. Until they’re willing to come home with me and then he pounces. I thought it would be better when I got older. That he’d no longer be interested in me. Instead it feels worse. Now, I’m the monster too, helping him to ruin these kids’ lives. I’m the monster too.
The noise of Harley’s harsh sobs echoed around the small room until Bex snapped off the sound. Isla found she was shaking with fury.
“Downer’s as big a monster as Keith Carroll!” she seethed. “He’s totally compromised his professional standing by not reporting this situation to the authorities! Why did he sit on this information and not say anything? I hope you intend to arrest him and charge him for letting Harley continue to suffer!”
“We’ll certainly be talking with William Downer again, Isla. But that’s not the end of it. There are a few more sessions where Harley talks under hypnosis and I think it’s these sessions that Downer meant when he said the recordings won’t help Harley’s defense.”
Isla’s tawny eyes flashed. “It sounds to me like Downer treated Harley as some sort of hard luck case, like a guinea pig he could write up in his notes and get published one day in a prestigious journal!”
“Are you ready to listen to more, Isla?”
Isla set her jaw with determination and nodded at Bex to go ahead.
WD: Let’s go deeper, Harley. Go deeper into how you feel about your father. Do you want to stop him?
HC: Yes, yes, I want him to stop.
WD: But he’s not going to stop, is he, Harley?
HC: No.
WD: What do you think will stop him, Harley?
HC: Hurting him?
WD: Do you think hurting him will make him stop? How do you feel about that, Harley? How do you feel if hurting him will make him stop his activities with you and the other kids?
HC: (Panting): Good. Good, because I want him to stop. Even if that means hurting him.
WD: What do you mean by hurting him, Harley?
HC: (sobbing). I want to…I really (sobbing) I want to hurt him back for all the times he’s hurt me.
WD: In what way? In what way would you hurt your father? How far would you go, Harley?
HC: (Panting.) Maybe kill him? Yes, yes, kill him. Kill him so he’ll stop it. He wants me to ask Wolfbane to come home for extracurricular activities. (Laughter). I know what that means. He wants to get his hands on Wolfbane and abuse him. He’s a monster. He’s never going to stop. And he’s never going to let me escape!
WD: How do you feel about that Harley?
HC: Angry. I feel angry. And scared. I don’t want Wolfbane to be hurt. But if dad is hurting him, he’s not having his dirty perverted way with me.
WD: Describe to me how you want to punish your dad.
(Sounds of crashing, stifled sobbing).
WD: Settle down, Harley. Just describe to me how you’d punish your father. What would you do first?
HC: I want to cut off his sodding knob so he can never use it again!
WD: How would you do that, Harley? How would you go about making that happen?
The silence stretched so long, Isla wondered if the recording had ended. In the background she could hear footfalls outside the interview room, the low tones of people talking as they progressed along the corridor. Somewhere a phone rang. Then Harley’s voice spluttered into the room.
HC: I would use the sharp knife in the kitchen that mum uses to cut the meat. She says it’s a boning knife.
WD: And when would you do this?
HC: On Monday night. Monday nights mum goes to the local pub for her trivia quiz. She never misses. Not even when my nana died. The night of the funeral she went out. So that’s safe. She won’t be in the house. Dad likes to play games with me then. He’s got the house to himself. He expects me to come to him in his office.
WD: What would you say to him when you attack him, Harley?
HC: I would tell him that he was a monster and how much I hated him. Then I would cut off his knob and stuff it in his mouth. See how he likes the taste of it!
WD: Don’t you think your father would fight you, Harley?
HC: Maybe. Maybe I’ll sneak up on him instead. I’ll get the knife from the kitchen when he calls my name, expecting me to come to him. I’ll hide the knife behind my back when I approach him. He’ll let me get close and then, before he expects it I’ll stick the knife in his guts! Yes, that’s what I’ll do.
WD: How does that feel, Harley? How does it feel not to live in the shadow of your father any longer?
HC: It feels good. I feel relieved. I feel…peaceful. (Sobbing).
Isla blew out a deep breath as Bex clicked off the recording. She hadn’t even realized she had been holding it in.
“Harley has described, almost word for word, what he did at the murder scene. This constitutes pre-meditation. The murder wasn’t spur of the moment, it was planned. There are several more sessions in which he covers the same ground with Harley, with Harley repeating what he’ll do to his father over and over again. The one variable that isn’t covered is what he’d do if his mother comes home unexpectedly. He seems to have buried the memory of her murder, perhaps because it didn’t fit in with his plans. Presenting these taped sessions in court is only going to strengthen the evidence against him, just as Dr. Downer warned,” Bex said.
“But the murders could have been prevented if Downer had spoken to the police!” Isla snapped.
“Damn straight he should’ve called the police!” Bex responded. “Confidentiality be damned! If Downer had spoken out he may have prevented a double homicide. He had an obligation to public welfare which he ignored. We’ll be calling Dr. Downer in for questioning as to why he didn’t contact any government authorities about the abuse Harley revealed or his intentions towards his father.”
Isla paced up and down the short length of the room. Harley Carroll may have wielded the knife, but William Downer had stood on the sidelines and perpetuated the crime. If she hadn’t pushed to reopen the investigation, Downer’s role would have
stayed undetected. Now her mission was to do everything she could to make sure he paid his fair share of the price, along with Harley.
Chapter 24
Monday 18 December
Idris and Reuben went to bring in William Downer for questioning. Bex played the last few sessions for Eli and Quinn, who hadn’t heard them before.
“You’re thinking this stacks up as evidence for pre-meditation?” Eli cradled a mug in his hands. “Keep calm and call a policeman” was lettered on one side. He sipped noisily.
Quinn sat back in his chair, frowning.
“There’s something off about these sessions. Listen to the beginning where Downer sounds like he’s baiting Harley. Downer says ‘Do you want him to stop? But he’s not going to stop, is he?’ He asks the question, but puts the answer in Harley’s mind. It’s designed to agitate Harley. Then he asks that leading question, ‘What do you think will stop him?’ Doesn’t really leave Harley any options, does he?”
Bex replayed the session. Quinn stopped it at one point.
WD: What do you think will stop him, Harley?
HC: Hurting him?
WD: Do you think hurting him will make him stop? How do you feel about that, Harley? How do you feel if hurting him will make him stop his activities with you and the other kids?
HC: (Panting): Good. Good, because I want him to stop. Even if that means hurting him.
WD: What do you mean by hurting him, Harley?
HC: (sobbing). I want to…I really (sobbing) I want to hurt him back for all the times he’s hurt me.
WD: In what way? In what way would you hurt your father? How far would you go, Harley?
“Downer’s egging Harley on, encouraging him to think about how he’d attack his father. He’s virtually forcing Harley to think about this as a real, viable alternative to his pain. He asks ‘how and when would you hurt your father?’ And then he gives him the reward: reminds him how good he’ll feel afterwards not to have his father abusing him any more.”
Bex Wynter Box Set Page 44