Callum Murphy was just as he had been described. He was small in stature with black hair and a mild Irish accent. Thin of face and body. He looked like a small rodent or weasel. He had refused to say anything when arrested and had been taken immediately to Leeds Central Police Station. He had sat in his cell for six hours before his solicitor arrived. In those six hours, his DNA had been matched to the BMW and a search had begun at his place of work and his flat. The search was being made thoroughly by a forensic team and police officers. A computer had been found in the filing cabinet together with business papers and files. The computer files were found to be encrypted. The computer was sent to a Leeds firm that could hack into it. They were still searching as Murphy was taken into the interview room. His solicitor was already there. Murphy and his solicitor were allowed to talk for fifteen minutes before Andy entered with DS Newton. They sat down and Newton pressed the record button on the tape machine. Andy began.
“For the purpose of the tape the officers present are DS Newton and DI Rawlings. Also present are Callum Murphy and his solicitor Mr Twigg. Callum, Patrick Murphy, you are charged with the murder of Thomas White, on or around the twelfth of March. Have you anything to say?”
“No comment.”
“We have applied for a further period of custody in order to investigate you and your property and before bringing further charges. You will now be returned to our cell.”
“Just wait a minute DI Rawlings. What evidence, have you, which allows you to detain my client?” said John Twigg.
“We have his DNA and the body of a murdered child.”
“That’s a lie! You have no DNA on the body,” exploded Murphy.
“Is it?” Andy smiled at Murphy. “We will let the court decide on that.”
John Twigg took hold of Murphy’s arm and said to Andy, “Is that all the evidence you have?”
“It is all the evidence I need, to hold your client for now. We are searching his premises at the moment. We will continue the interview when the search has been completed. Interview ended at six forty-five.”
He got up and went to the door and opened it.
“Officer, take him to his cell,” he said.
Murphy was led away.
“DI Rawlings, I will be applying to the court for bail and for the immediate release of my client. See you in court officer.” Twigg left.
“He certainly let the cat of the bag, sir,” said Newton.
“Yes. We said nothing about the DNA being on the body. Let him keep thinking that. We have our man. Now we need to squeeze everything he knows out of him. With no mistakes Newton, we can’t afford them.”
The courts allowed for another forty-eight -hour period of detention and refused bail. In that time, the police had unearthed further evidence at Murphy’s place of work. The most interesting discoveries were made in two large caustic soda tanks that were being used for stripping furniture. They contained bone fragments and they were human. One of the fragments had been traced through DNA to a missing person, one Mick Hodgson. A minor criminal in Manchester, who had been, according to Manchester Police, one of their top informants. He had disappeared without trace two years ago. The only thing that could be determined from the other bones was that they were of a child.
Andy wasted no time as soon as the information reached him from Manchester. He pulled Murphy’s lawyer in and began another interview. He started the interview with,
“I am not going to waste time because this is an important on-going murder inquiry. We have substantial and convincing evidence that your client is a multiple murderer.”
He paused to let the words sink in.
“I am going to ask him a number of questions. If he does not respond he will be transferred immediately to Full Sutton maximum security prison to await trial. My first question is...”
“Just a minute DI Rawlings,” interrupted Twigg. “I have not had time to consult with my client.”
“I’ll give you half an hour. After that you can consult your client all you like when he is inside Full Sutton. For the tape, interview terminated at eighteen hundred hours.” Andy and Newton left the room.
After exactly thirty minutes, Andy and Frank Newton entered the room. Andy switched on the tape.
“Interview with Callum Murphy and Mr Twigg recommenced at eighteen thirty hours.”
Andy looked straight Murphy and said, “Callum Murphy are you prepared to answer my questions?”
“I want a deal.”
“What sort of deal?” said Andy.
“Immunity from prosecution,” replied Callum.
Andy had anticipated that this would be asked for. He had Murphy cold and was about to play him like a fish on a line. He could hang him out to dry and Murphy knew it, but he didn’t know how much Andy wanted Lemmings. He mustn’t, under any circumstances, give the game away.
“Not a chance in hell. You’ve only one option and that to answer my questions. You’re looking at doing a full thirty-five years stretch. No deal.”
“DI Rawlings,” John Twigg began in a condescending voice, “I don’t think you realise what a valuable source of information my client is.”
“I will be the judge of that, when he has answered my questions and until then we have nothing more to talk about,” Andy replied harshly.
“My client will answer five questions then we will discuss a deal,” said Twigg. Andy ignored Twigg and continued.
“Who helped you with the abduction of Tommy White?” said Andy to Murphy.
“I had nothing to do with the boy’s abduction,” replied Murphy in a dead pan voice.
“Why did you murder him?” asked Andy.
“I didn’t.”
“His body was found in your car with your DNA,” said Andy calmly.
“I didn’t kill him.”
Andy noticed that he had not rejected the DNA claim that was false. He had him cold. He continued:
“Well, how are we supposed to believe that? Who did, if it wasn’t you?” The question was asked in a low voice by Andy, almost disinterestedly.
“Mark Lemmings killed him,” replied Murphy.
Andy’s heart jumped, but he showed no emotion or interest in Murphy’s answer. He asked another question in a dead-pan voice.
“Why was the child’s body then in your car?” Andy knew the answer but he wanted Murphy on record. Murphy did not answer. Andy waited and waited. Then he said,
“How do you know Mark Lemmings? Where is he?” asked Andy.
“That’s six questions, officers,” said Twigg.
“And only three answers, as if it mattered,” retorted Andy. “You’re client has given us nothing but denials, and I’m not going to accept them as answers. So start counting again.”
“Come, come DI Rawlings. My client has cooperated fully with you and we had an agreement.” Twigg smiled.
“I gave your client the chance to answer my questions. He did not. We are charging your client with three counts of murder. He has one last chance to be completely honest and truthful with us before he is remanded to Full Sutton. You and your client have two minutes to reflect.”
Andy sat back in his chair.
“I would like to talk to my client in private,” said Twigg.
“No, the time for consultation is over, decide now,” Andy replied.
Twigg turned to Murphy. “Tell him what he wants to know Callum. It’s you’re only chance of a deal.”
Murphy bent his head and spoke to the floor.
“If I tell you about the organisation; its members and how it works. Will you give me a deal?”
“The organisation? What organisation are we talking about?” said DS Newton.
“The one that Lemming’s got.”
“I want to know about the killings, Callum. Where, when and who did them,” said Andy.
“I’m the cleaner. I just disposed of the bodies. I didn’t kill anyone. They were already dead. Please believe me. I couldn’t kill a kid. On my mother’s life!”
Murphy pleaded.
“Where can we find Lemmings now,” asked Newton.
“Don’t know. He just contacts me when he needs me,” replied Callum.
“How does he make contact,” asked Newton.
“Internet.”
“What he just sends you an email and you come running? Newton said.
“No,” said Murphy.
“Explain, Callum,” said Andy.
“There’s a website. You access it and punch in a code. It opens another window in which we leave messages,” replied Callum.
“We?” queried Newton.
“The group,” replied Callum.
“How many of you in the group?” asked Newton.
“There are lots of us. Make a deal and I’ll tell you,” Callum said, regaining some of his lost composure and with a nervous smile.
“That’s not enough. You’re looking at thirty-five years behind bars with no remission. You must tell us what we want to know and then I’ll go to the CPS and cut a deal if your information leads to significant arrests and only then.”
Callum remained looking at the floor for some time. He had a haunted look on his face. Then he said,
“If I talk and go to prison I’ll be dead within a week. I need protection. If you can’t give me that, then this conversation is over and that means somewhere outside the prison system. I know too much. They will kill me and that’s fact. I’m not just saying it.”
Andy thought for a moment.
“Would you agree to remain in voluntary police custody?”
Callum looked at Twigg.
“You will give your personal guarantee that my client will be in safe custody, DI Rawlings?” asked Twigg.
“Yes.”
“Then my advice would be to agree, Callum,” said Twigg.
“O.K. you have a deal,” said Callum in a tired voice.
“We will continue this tomorrow. Shall we say 9am Mr Twigg?” asked Andy.
“I’ll be here,” Twigg replied.
“Interview ended at twenty forty-five.” Newton and Andy stood up and left.
Over the next four days they kept moving Murphy around small West Yorkshire police stations, until they found one in which they thought he would be safe and secure. It was a small police station in Skipton. Only three members of the squad knew he was there; Newton, Singh and Andy. No one else knew of Murphy’s location. Not even the Chief Superintendent or his lawyer. All the interviews were conducted at Leeds Central Police Station. Murphy had waived all his rights and was singing like a canary. Andy knew that he had to move quickly. As soon as word got out that they had Murphy, the group would scatter and Lemmings would disappear.
Chapter 14
During the English Civil War of 1642, a young gentleman farmer from North Yorkshire distinguished himself by raising a regiment of farm workers and leading them with particular distinction at the Battle of Marsden Moor. Parliament rewarded him by giving him a small estate outside North East Leeds, on which he built his Manor House, Flaxton Hall. When the Reformation came, Stanford-Grey adroitly positioned himself on the side of King James and became an efficient prosecutor of the King’s enemies. Some of which had been his close friends in the parliamentary forces. He turned on these ‘friends’ ruthlessly and eliminated them. The King rewarded Stanford-Grey with a peerage. Lord Stanford-Grey then used marriage and a judicious business deal in the Americas to accumulate great wealth. Flaxton Hall and its ten thousand acre estate had remained in the Stanford-Grey family continuously ever since then.
The housekeeper, Mrs Higgins and her husband had been given a long weekend off. She was visiting her sister in Doncaster. The judge waited with growing excitement for the arrival of the twins. Joseph had been despatched to the Leeds car park where he was to meet the couple that had brought them from Albania. Bartholomew could do anything but wait with growing impatience. He had a whirlpool of feelings going through his head and body. Some were good and some not so good. Still there was no going back now. It had taken too long to plan and execute. The point of no return had been reached.
At that moment he heard the car upon the gravel driveway and his head swam with excitement. He hurried out the front door. He opened the back door of the car and helped the boys out of the car. Joseph led the tired little twin boys into the house. Fed them in the spacious kitchen and after they had eaten, they took them upstairs to the bathroom with a tray of milk and chocolate biscuits. Joseph filled the king- size bath with steaming hot water and left, while Bartholomew carefully undressed the boys. They were everything he had hoped for. They had the soft, milky white skin and small tight little bottoms that he had dreamed of. He stroked them as he undressed each one. Then he put them in the bath with a few toys. Two small boats, a clockwork submarine and two plastic ducks with plenty of bubble bath. The boys played with glee as Bartholomew undressed and got in the bath with them. He then washed the boys. Soaping and touching every part of their bodies. Then he washed off the soap and wrapped them in soft white towels. He took the tray and the boys into the master bedroom. He gave them each a glass of milk and biscuits. They sat together on the deep pile carpet whilst they drank their milk. The drugged milk would not make them unconscious but they would not be able to resist what was coming next.
He left the boys in the double bed at five in the morning, having repeatedly buggered them both. One of the twins was whimpering a little and there where small spots of blood on the sheets. At six, Joseph entered the bedroom. He dressed them in cheap tracksuits. Still drugged, and stupefied, he took them one by one and put them into the Bentley. He drove down one of the many private roads that crossed the estate and stopped near to an entrance. He got out of the car. Lit a cigarette and leaned against the entrance gate. Within half an hour a white van appeared and stopped at the entrance. The boys were transferred into it. From that moment on, their lives would be condemned to a life of prostitution, drugs and disease.
At around 10 am that Sunday morning, Bartholomew rang for Joseph. Two minutes later he rang again. Finally he left his room and called up the stairs several times. He mounted the stairs and entered Joseph’s room. The bed had not been slept in but his clothes were still there. Could there have been a problem with the disposal of the boys? He had a feeling of unease, but put it aside. He must have gone out for something he thought and went downstairs to the kitchen. After a pot of Earl Grey tea, toast and marmalade, he became more agitated; where could Joseph be? It was now two hours since he had called him. Then he panicked. Had Joseph gone? He wouldn’t dare. No, he could not have gone. His legal mind clicked in. ‘Look at the worst case scenario,’ he said to himself. Could he have run into some sort of trouble? Perhaps he has been delayed. There could have been an accident. No he would have heard something by now. Was it possible that he could have left? If so where to? His mind was in a swirl. If he has gone what must be done? There was nothing to do for now he reasoned. He could not act before he knew what had happened and had the facts. He went upstairs to bathe and dress. Later that evening he began to make several phone calls. After each call he became more and more concerned, until he finally became convinced that Joseph had gone.
Chapter 15
Kevin Brooks was short sighted. His eyes were small and blue. He wore glasses from ‘Specsavers.’ They were ‘top of the range’ and very fashionable. His eyes were his only appealing feature. The rest of him was an odd assortment of misshaped parts. His body was bony and thin. He was lanky and his hands and head were too big. He stooped forward as he walked as if his spine had a slight curvature. His brown hair was long, thin and limp, like his body and face. He did not appeal to women. He had bad teeth, with some of the front teeth missing, which had been replaced by ill-fitting dentures. Nature had not been kind to him. However, what he lacked in physical attributes was more than compensated by his mental abilities. He had a photographic memory and a very high IQ. He had excelled at school and the comprehensive school boy from North London had gained a place at Oxford Univers
ity. He had studied Maths at Oxford and was about to leave university with a First Class Honours Degree. He was more than surprised when his professor asked him to join him for lunch.
“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he said as they sipped their coffee after an excellent lunch.
“It means going to London, but your train fare will be paid together with expenses and an overnight stay at a good hotel. Furthermore, you will enjoy a very good lunch at the Garrett Club if you agree,” his professor smile kindly at him and raised an eyebrow. Kevin was flattered and slightly apprehensive.
“What is the meeting about?” asked Kevin.
“It could possibly be a job. I can’t say more. Will you go?”
“Well I’ve nothing planned at the moment and as long as I don’t have to decide there and then, well yes,” said Kevin.
“I’ll let you know the details of where and when, as soon as possible and then it’s up to you,” said his Professor.
As he entered the Garrett with its imposing entrance and leather arm chairs he felt apprehensive. Who was this mysterious figure that he was meeting? What was the job? He knew that his professor would not lead him towards anything that would harm his future, but nevertheless this was very odd. It had to be a very important company and a big job. He knew that all the big firms recruited from the best that Oxford could produce and that there was a very strong ‘Old Boys Club.’ Anyway he would soon know.
The Child Predators Page 8