by G D Parker
The visitors’ centre was outside of the main walls. Valentina presented herself at the reception desk. There was a little to-ing and fro-ing with the front desk, as it was outside of visiting times, but with the dropping of a few names of those in high places, it didn’t take long for them to agree for Valentina to speak with Tommy McGregor.
Valentina was given an interview room, with the insistence of HMP services that there was to be a guard present, which firstly Valentina didn’t feel was necessary, and secondly, she wanted to have a private one-to-one conversation with Tommy. The room was cold, and the walls were bare, with a heavily stained carpet, but it would do.
After a forty-five-minute wait, Tommy was brought into the interview room. He was in a pair of jeans and a light grey hoodie, which looked like a prison-issue hoodie but was actually his own. She guessed it was his way of attempting to blend in.
‘Tommy, how are you?’ Valentina asked with a friendly tone.
‘So, so.’ It was clear his spirit had been sucked out of him. He had large dark circles under his eyes and a nasty cut above and around his right eye.
‘What happened there?’
‘Nuffin.’ Tommy’s head was hanging down, his hair was scruffy, and he was unshaven, his beard curling at the ends with a slight hint of ginger.
‘Tommy, I’ve come to see you today to go through your version of events from when you were arrested for indecent exposure. Can you do that for me?’
‘Why?’ Tommy asked, still looking down and not making any eye contact.
Valentina glanced over at the guard in the room and gave him a side nod to leave. The guard reluctantly left the room.
‘Look Tommy, between me and you, there has been new evidence that supports your case. I can’t go through it in detail, but I can tell you that it is looking promising for you.’
‘Please don’t do that!’ Tommy said, his voice wobbling and his blue eyes filling with water. He was on the verge of crying but trying to hold it back.
‘Do what Tommy?’
‘Give me any hope. I’m out of hope. I’ve given up on life and have accepted the inevitable.’ Tears rolled down his pale cheeks. ‘I wish I was dead.’
‘Look at me, Tommy,’ said Valentina firmly.
He shook his head.
‘Fucking look at me, now!’ Valentina’s voice was raised, and she glanced at the door to make sure no one had heard her elevated tone. Tommy then looked up at her with his bloodshot eyes.
‘I no longer think you did these awful crimes. If you think I would come all the way here to fuck with your head, then you’re very much mistaken. I was gunning for you at the beginning, and I was pleased to have caught you, but now things have changed, and I have a duty of care to ensure an innocent man doesn’t spend the rest of his life behind bars.’
Tommy shook his head and put his palms together. ‘I didn’t do any of it. I swear on my mother’s life!’
‘I know you didn’t, and now we need to prove it. Tell me what you can remember from when you were arrested for walking the streets naked,’ Valentina entreated.
‘I’ve been going through everything over and over in my head. That day, all I remember is laying on the sofa,’ Tommy paused and took a breath. ‘The next thing I recall, I was naked down Cardiff Bay, freezing cold with two policemen running towards me. I just ran back towards my flat as fast as I could. People were staring at me. I was so confused. Thought I had sleep walked.’ He then paused again.
‘What happened next, Tommy?’
‘I was thrown to the ground, handcuffed and put into the back of the van.’
‘Think, Tommy, do you remember anything else? It doesn’t matter how small the detail is?’
‘There was one thing.’ He folded his arms across his chest. ‘My neighbour, we called him the freak-’
‘We?’
‘Me and my girlfriend at the time, Taylor. Oh God, Taylor.’ Tommy burst into tears, the image of her face haunting him. The black mist started to shadow his mind.
‘It’s okay, Tommy. Talk to me.’
‘He was there in the crowed of people watching me. I felt humiliated, and he had this look on his face, like he was enjoying it, you know? Getting a fix out of it.’
‘What’s his name?’ asked Valentina.
‘I don’t know. He was always staring at us weirdly. He’d intercept my post at times, hand it to me and walk off without saying anything. Why?’ He looked up at Valentina. ‘Do you think he has something to do with it?’
‘Tommy, I have no idea who’s behind all this. All I know is that you, as Tommy McGregor, didn’t do it.’
The door to the room opened then.
‘Time’s up folks,’ said the guard, using a thumb to point at the door as a clear-off gesture.
‘One more minute, please?’ demanded Valentina.
‘Sorry, time’s up. Got to leave now. Come on.’
They both stood, and Valentina gave Tommy a gentle nod.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered, and Valentina returned a soft smile.
Roberts hadn’t worn his uniform in months and felt proud to wear it once again. Being CID, there weren’t many opportunities to wear it, and it felt good. He walked up the path to Emily’s house and knocked on the door, peering through the front window to see if there were any signs of life. He waited for a few more moments and knocked again, this time harder. Moments later the door opened.
‘Emily Wakefield?’
‘Yes, that’s me. What can I do for you?’ Emily asked, then put one foot out the door and looked up and down the street.
Roberts looked at her, appreciating her beauty, then quickly snapped back into police officer mode.
‘I’m Detective Constable Roberts. Do you have a moment for a chat? It’s about Tommy McGregor?’
‘Errm, yeah okay. Can we do this inside?’
‘Of course,’ he followed her into the lounge.
‘Please, take a seat. Can I get you a drink?’
‘No, I’m fine, thank you.’ Roberts removed his hat. ‘Can I ask, when was the last time you saw Tommy McGregor?’
‘The night he murdered my mother,’ Emily replied.
Shit, thought Roberts, that was an insensitive start.
‘Sorry, Miss Wakefield, what I meant was, before that night?’
‘I don’t remember. Why?’ Emily looked nervous and Roberts picked up on this straight away. She started to rub her hands on her legs.
‘We’re just going through some formalities. So, you don’t remember at all?’
‘No, nothing!’ Emily replied.
Roberts then skipped that question to catch her off guard. ‘You were an item, weren’t you?’
‘Not really an item. We had a little thing, but it was nothing really. I hardly know him to be honest.’
‘Didn’t you check into the Premier Inn on the seventeenth of January this year?’ Roberts asked.
Her pupils widened, and she had a look of fear in her eyes.
‘We did, yeah, I think.’ Emily’s tone was blunt.
‘Okay, so why did you check into a hotel ten minutes from Tommy’s apartment?’
‘We just did.’ Her nervousness was now even more obvious.
‘We just did, that’s not an answer. What made you both decide to check into that particular hotel?’
‘You know... for fun.’ Emily then gave Roberts an awkward smile.
‘When you could have just stayed at Tommy’s for fun? What time did you check in?’
‘Sorry, am I being questioned here for a particular reason? Have I done something?’ Emily asked.
Roberts decided it was now time to cut the discussion short. He’d now planted the necessary seeds in Emily’s head.
‘Not at all. I was just enquiring. I’ll leave you to it.’ Roberts then stood and simply let himself out without another word.
Emily stayed put. Shit, what was that all about? she thought to herself and started to pace the lounge in a mild panic, worried in case they
had sussed her already.
15
It was a pleasant day and the sun was gleefully shining with a beautiful clear blue sky. Down in Cardiff Bay, Asda was busy as usual. It was one of the large Wallmart Asdas that sold literally anything and everything. Emily walked aisle by aisle choosing bits and bobs for the week, carefully checking the nutrition information to ensure she was eating the right stuff. She enjoyed cooking and was going to rustle up some nice healthy meals to see her through the rest of the week. She felt ready to get back into the gym and start training again.
She reached the confectionary aisle and felt as though she wanted to satisfy her sweet tooth. Just a little treat, she thought to herself. It won’t hurt to have a little sugar? Yeah, it’ll be fine - I’ll just work harder in the gym, she convinced herself.
Emily left the trolley and focused on the display of colours and sweet smells, which made her crave the sugar even more. It was a complete sweet tease. She picked up a bag of Cadbury’s buttons, that she would nibble on throughout the week, working out how many per day she would allow herself. When she returned to her trolley, there was a large bunch of flowers resting on the top of her already chosen goods.
‘Eh?’ she said, looking around. No one else was down the aisle, and she certainly hadn’t put them there herself. She peered around the corner into the main long aisle, but there was no one that she knew nor anyone acting suspiciously that stood out. She removed the bunch of flowers and shoved them between some shelves, damaging the flowers with petals falling to the floor, then she walked off, creeped out by the gesture.
The tills were busy, and conversation was loud, with music playing in the background, but a little too quietly. Emily couldn’t work out what song was playing. Looking for the shortest queue, as we all do, her eyes clocked each item in her trolley calculating each item’s price, so she knew how much it would all cost before the amount was revealed at the till.
She waited. There was an old lady in the queue in front with her trolley full to the brim. Emily huffed, bet this is gonna take ages. I always manage to pick the slowest queue, she thought to herself. Whilst waiting, she cast her eyes across the supermarket, scanning to see if there was anyone she knew. The flowers had been creepy, and she was hoping it was just some kids or perhaps someone she knew pulling a silly prank. However, she couldn’t see anyone she knew.
Finally, after a gruelling twenty minutes at the till, Emily approached her car. There was something on it. The closer she got, the clearer she could see – it was the flowers. She upped her pace with her heart beating in her chest. Horror incensed her when she saw that it was the same bunch of flowers from in her trolley. She looked around the carpark. Again, there was no one that stood out.
‘Who’s doing this?’ she shouted, causing people to look at her.
Emily grabbed the flowers and threw them to the ground in a temper, frustrated that someone was purposely trying to creep her out. She hurriedly loaded all the shopping into her boot and drove off in a panic, leaving the trolley still with the pound coin in it.
When she arrived home, there was someone at her front door dressed in a smart suit. At first, she thought it was CID wanting to chat with her again, but when the person turned around holding a bunch of flowers, she freaked out.
‘You!’ she pointed. It was the same man that had stalked her at Tommy’s flat. ‘What do you want?’ Emily didn’t know whether to run or to confront this man before it all got out of hand.
‘I’m just a friend. I only want to talk,’ he said.
The flowers he was holding were the same ones again, this time even more battered than before.
‘I don’t want to talk! Please, leave me alone!’
The man didn’t move, but just stood in the doorway.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ Emily began to tremble as the fear increased, filling her veins with adrenaline.
‘Nothing’s wrong with me. I just like you.’ He smiled at her, creeping her out even more. Then he shifted forwards, causing Emily to drop the bags she was holding.
‘I’m calling the police!’ She fiddled with her phone in a panic, but was shaking so profusely, she couldn’t unlock it. The man then stepped a little closer and pulled a small bottle from his pocket. ‘What’s that? What are you doing? Get away from me, you fucking freak!’ Emily froze on the spot in fear and her eyes widened as everything moved in slow motion.
‘Just a little lesson for you!’ The man undid the lid to the bottle and sprayed the contents into her face.
Emily screamed to high heaven. It burned like boiling water. The pain was long but slow and never ending. She screamed more and more, holding her face. The substance continued to burn through her skin. She fell to her knees and vomited. Her skin was melting into her hands, and the pain was so severe, she lost her balance and face planted the concrete floor. She laid there defeated.
Her neighbour ran out to help her. He could see what had happened and ran back into his house, coming back moments later with a washing up bowl full of cold water. Placing the bowl on the ground close to her, he helped to gently splash water on her face, as the substance boiled and ate her skin like a starving stray dog. The neighbour pulled out his phone and dialled 999.
‘Which emergency service, please?’ the operator asked calmly.
‘Ambulance,’ the neighbour responded urgently.
‘One moment,’ said the operator, who then put him through to the ambulance service.
‘Please help, I need an ambulance as soon as possible. I’m with my neighbour, Emily Wakefield, and it looks as though she’s been attacked.’
‘What’s the address please?’ asked the ambulance service operator.
‘49 Cosmeston Street in Cathays, Cardiff, CF24.’
‘Is the victim still conscious?’
‘Yes,’ the neighbour answered impatiently, glancing nervously at Emily.
‘What is the extent of her injuries?’
‘It looks as though she’s had acid thrown in her face. Quick, hurry.’
‘Do you know what type of acid?’
‘No idea, but it’s bad. I’ve given her cold water, but it’s not helping,’ replied the neighbour.
‘Keep applying the cold water. Get others to help you. Don’t stop until the ambulance arrives. Can I take your name please, sir?’
‘Jon Harrington. Hurry!’
‘Please try and stay calm. Keep talking to the casualty. The ambulance is on its way,’ said the operator reassuringly.
Within minutes, Jon could hear the sirens in the distance. By this time, more neighbours were helping with the water and trying to comfort Emily. He stayed on the phone to the operator and was given further instructions on how to assist, communicating this to the other helpers. Emily laid on the ground, kicking her legs in pain as the acid continued to eat away at the flesh on her face.
The ambulance turned into Cosmeston Street. Jon stood and flagged it towards them. He asked everyone to step away to allow the paramedics to treat Emily. By this point, Emily’s breathing had noticeably increased. The onlookers were in shock at the sight; some were crying, and others were just looking away, feeling helpless and upset by the whole incident. Soon after the ambulance had arrived, two marked police cars also arrived.
In Cardiff Central Police station word spread quickly about the acid attack, and Valentina received a call to let her know that Emily Wakefield was the victim, with the investigation falling into her lap. She called Roberts almost immediately after.
‘I’ve heard, boss. I’m on my way to Heath Hospital as we speak. I need to find out if this is connected to the McGregor case,’ said Roberts, not giving Valentina a chance to say a word.
‘Slow down! They’re not going to let you see her,’ said Valentina.
‘I know, but the officers at the scene can give me all the info they have as a starting point.’
‘Good thinking,’ replied Valentina. ‘I’ve got Martinson looking at the CCTV within a two-mile perimeter of Emily
’s home address. Keep me in the loop with your findings.’
‘Will do, boss.’ Roberts hung up and continued towards the hospital.
BBC Wales Today - Saturday 24th February 2018
Latest Headline at 12:32:
Horrific Acid Attack: Took place in Cathays, Cardiff this morning. Emily Wakefield, 18, gym enthusiast, was targeted outside her home. South Wales Police are appealing for witnesses and anyone who might know anything about the attack to come forward. The BBC has learned from a South Wales Police spokesperson that they are investigating this incident in great detail and will be taking this attack extremely seriously. Anyone who has any information should contact South Wales Police incident room at once on 02920 101101.
The blackness took over Emily’s mind. Her hearing was a little fuzzy and her body felt cold. The burning sensation in her face had reduced, but it was still at a nine out of ten on the pain scale compared to the original one hundred out of ten. Her legs still felt jumpy. She was restless but tired, with no way she could get comfortable.
‘Is there anyone there? I can’t see,’ said Emily, her voice soft but broken.
She felt someone touch her arm, and she turned her head, but her vision was still black. The pain throbbed, taunting her and reminding her of what had happened.
‘Just rest, sweetheart. My name is Jenny. I’m your duty nurse. You’re in Heath Hospital, the place you need to be right now, but you’ll need to be transferred to the Welsh Centre for Burns at Morriston Hospital, Swansea.’
‘But, why can’t I see? I want to see!’
‘You have a facial dressing applied sweetheart,’ Jenny replied. ‘Try to rest. You’ve been given some morphine for the pain. A consultant will be with you shortly to go through things in more detail. Can I get you anything?’