Joint Judgement (An Emma Harrison Mystery Book 3)

by Wendy Cartmell

  Taking a deep breath, he turned to Ethan. ‘See Mr Walker over there?’

  Ethan bobbed his head up and down so quickly it made Billy think of a bird pecking at the ground trying to find worms. Shaking away the image he said, ‘Any idea who wanted him dead?’

  This time Ethan shook his head from side to side, ‘No, no idea.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘What about me?’

  ‘Did you get on with Mr Walker?’

  ‘Nah, not my type.’

  ‘Pardon?’ asked Billy. ‘What you do mean?’

  ‘Well, he was as bent as a nine bob note, weren’t he?’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ In fact, Billy hadn’t seen that one coming. Recovering himself, he said, ‘You don’t go for older men then?’

  Again, the shaking of the head. ‘Anyway what’s it to you?’

  Ignoring the question Billy said, ‘What class were you in?’

  ‘Cookery, innit.’

  Ethan’s shakes were getting worse and he had begun swaying, looking for all the world as though he was about to faint. Grabbing a chair, Billy pushed Ethan into it and forced his head between his knees. ‘Deep breaths,’ he urged Ethan, who was breathing rapidly. As well as possibly fainting, Billy was now worried that Ethan was hyperventilating. ‘Come on, breathe with me,’ he urged. ‘In… count to four and out… for four. Come on, in… out… that’s it. Feeling better now?’

  Ethan nodded, but kept his head down.

  ‘Why did you leave your classroom, Ethan?’

  ‘I was going to be sick. Why?’

  ‘Did you go into the art room instead of the toilets?’

  ‘Nah, just threw up in the loo. Then washed my hands and face and went back.’

  ‘Did you see anything that was happening in the art room?’

  ‘Nah. Took all my wits just to get back to cookery, like.’

  ‘Okay, but I need to check your hands for blood, alright?’

  Ethan managed to lift his head and nod. ‘What do you do then?’

  ‘I just want to run a swab over your hands,’ he said. ‘Then I’m going to spray something onto the tip of the swab, which will show me if it tests positive for blood. Okay?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Ethan managed a smile. ‘Just like on the telly,’ he said and held out his shaking hands.

  Billy had never had such a willing suspect and had to suppress a smile as he turned to get the stuff out of his bag. Turning back, he saw Ethan was looking a little better. His face was still stark white against his black hair. There were dark smudges under his eyes and his thin lips kept pursing as waves of pain racked his body.

  Billy managed to hold Ethan’s hands to run the swab over the palms and backs of them. But there was nothing. Not a single speck of blood on them. There was no way Mr Walker could have been stabbed without the perpetrator getting blood on his hands, and it was doubtful Ethan would have managed to wash it all away, so it appeared Ethan was telling the truth. Billy looked at the boy still sitting on the chair and despite himself, felt some sympathy for the boy. He clearly needed medical attention.

  Walking over to the doorway, he spoke to Memphis Colby who had been overseeing the proceedings from his position just inside the classroom. ‘I don’t think he’s the killer,’ he said. ‘There’s no blood on his hands or his clothes from what I can see. But he’s in a bad way, coming down off some drug or other. He really needs to see Dr Fox, so I recommend that we send him out.’ As soon as the words were out of Billy’s mouth, he regretted them.

  ‘Oh you do, do you? You recommend eh?’ Colby laughed. ‘I couldn’t give a shit about what you recommend, Mr Forensic Science. No one leaves unless I recommend it. Not you. Me. Get it?’

  ‘Yes, Memphis, I get it.’

  ‘The boy stays.’

  Billy had never wanted to hit anyone as much as he did Memphis Colby at that moment. But that would start a riot, which was something that he couldn’t afford to happen. So for now he had to keep Memphis Colby happy, no matter how much he hated it.

  Chapter 27

  Billy had just sent Ethan off, telling him to find a quiet spot to lie down. He was still angry with Colby, but what could he do? It was then that Aiden ran into the room.

  ‘You need to come and see this,’ he pulled at Billy’s arm, ‘and bring your camera.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Found something. My mates are protecting it, we thought you would want to see it in-situ, like.’

  Grabbing his case, Billy followed Aiden out of the room and into the communal toilets, which were situated conveniently next to the art room. As they entered, Billy wrinkled his nose against the smell. It was a mixture of sewage and bleach which reminded him of the showers and toilet blocks in the army. He looked at the floor, wondering if there was anything he should note there, but the mess of dirty footprints, pools of water and bunches of toilet paper made any forensic examination useless. Billy tried hard not to be despondent, but it was yet another pin in his balloon of optimism.

  Aiden led him to the final stall in a row of toilets, where one of his friends was standing guard, looking for all the world like one of Billy’s soldiers.

  ‘So, what have we got?’ he asked and the boy relaxed and moved out of the way, so Billy could enter the cubicle.

  ‘It’s stuffed behind the cistern,’ Aiden said. ‘Looks to me like a tee-shirt with blood on it.’

  Billy peered in the gloom of the stall, seeing a piece of white material poking up. Taking his torch out of his pocket he lit the area and had to agree with Aiden’s assessment. He took a few snaps of the toilet stall and cistern, then, evidence bag ready, pulled at the cotton material with a pair of forceps, which unravelled to reveal a once-white tee-shirt, now with bloody splotches all over the front of it. Dropping it into the clear plastic bag, he then backed out of the toilet, holding up the bag so Aiden could see the contents.

  ‘Well done, Aiden,’ Billy said.

  ‘Is that blood on it?’

  ‘I’m pretty certain it is, but I’ll check once we’re back in the art room.’

  Billy put the bag in his forensic case and closed it. Once again, there was no need to advertise the find to the rest of the lads. The three of them walked the few paces back into the art room and Billy tested the stains, satisfied that the tee-shirt was covered in blood, which was no doubt Jack Walker’s. But he needed that confirmed, so once more he made his way to the double doors which were the entrance to the education block.

  As he walked he asked Aiden if he could remember if anyone looked different to how they were when they first arrived for their class. ‘Do you think anyone has changed their clothes?’ he said.

  Aiden looked around as they walked. ‘Sorry, Billy, I’ve no idea. I don’t normally look too closely at people. That can get you hurt, if you know what I mean.’

  Billy nodded. ‘No worries, Aiden, I’ll see what they can find on CCTV.’

  Which is precisely what he asked Chief Robinson to do.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ was the astonished reply.

  ‘We need to find the lad who was wearing this tee-shirt and then changed later on. See what you can find on the CCTV.’

  ‘But they all wear more or less the same thing. Apart from those on remand who wear their own clothes.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And we’ll have to go through loads of CCTV film.’

  ‘So?’ said Billy. ‘Do it. Unless you have any other suggestions as to how we find the boy who has changed his tee-shirt, that is?’

  Billy took the chief’s silence as agreement and turned on his heel, pushing his way through throngs of curious boys on his way back to the art room.

  Chapter 28

  Reviewing the evidence in his head wasn’t cheering Billy up. He believed he had found one, possibly two, murder weapons – a clay sculpting knife and a small knife from the kitchen. The sculpting knife was wiped of prints but had blood on it and he’d lifted prints from the cabinet in the art room. The knife from
the cookery class had prints on it which had been sent through to Reading Police. They had a tee-shirt covered in blood, but as yet no idea who had been wearing it. Someone calling him broke through his reverie.

  ‘Oy, Forensic, over here.’

  Billy looked up to see Memphis Colby gesticulating to him. Billy sighed. What did the idiot want now? He noticed that Colby still wouldn’t come further into the room, staying close to the safety of the door.

  ‘Yes, Memphis?’ Billy asked as he walked to the door.

  ‘Just got a tip,’ the man smiled in satisfaction.

  ‘Yes? What is it?’

  ‘Oh, right, one of the lads had bad news yesterday. Lost his parole hearing, didn’t he? He has to stay inside.’

  ‘What was he in for?’

  ‘Attempted murder.’ Colby looked pleased with himself and folded his arms over his bulging chest once more.

  Billy waited, but as no more information was forthcoming he was forced to say, ‘And who is it?’

  ‘Oh, him over there, the one with the ginger hair.’

  Billy followed Colby’s pointing finger and saw a young teenager talking to someone. But, actually, talking wasn’t the right word, thought Billy as he watched more closely.

  ‘His name’s Mark, but we call him…’

  ‘Ginger, yeah I get it.’

  Billy continued to watch as Mark became more agitated, shouting in the other boy’s face and then starting to push him in the chest, forcing the boy to stumble backwards.

  ‘What’s his story?’

  ‘Well, he was in cookery class this morning, but went to art in the afternoons. All I know is that the art teacher was always on his back. Said he didn’t do enough work, or tried hard enough in his class. So he was threatening to throw Mark off the course.’

  ‘Would that be enough reason to kill him?’ Billy turned to look at Colby.

  ‘Too bloody right, for some of them in here. Especially combined with his hearing going south yesterday.’

  ‘Let’s have a chat with him, then.’

  Billy watched as Colby nodded to someone in the crowd. Two boys walked up to Mark and, without saying a word, each grabbed an elbow and pulled the struggling boy into the art room.

  ‘What the fuck? Get off me you fuckers! You’ve no right!’

  At a nod from Colby they let the boy go. Standing in front of Billy, Mark was breathing heavily and glaring. Anger flowed from him like larva.

  ‘Who the hell are you?’ he spat at Billy.

  ‘Just someone who’s trying to find out who killed Jack Walker.’

  ‘That prick? Why bother? The man was a joke.’

  Billy thought that Mark was the one who was a joke, but kept that nugget of information to himself, saying instead, ‘Whatever he may or may not have been, the man is dead and I’m trying to find out who killed him.’

  ‘Oh, so Colby and his lot are trying to fit me up are they?’

  But Billy noticed the boy didn’t look at Colby as he said it, keeping his eyes firmly on Billy. Despite his bluster, Billy reckoned Mark was frightened of Colby.

  ‘No one is trying to fit anyone up,’ Billy used the boy’s vernacular. ‘I’m just trying to get to the truth.’

  ‘Well good luck with that one, there’s precious little truth around this place.’

  Having had enough of the vitriolic comments, Billy changed the subject and started questioning Mark about his movements that morning.

  ‘You’re not getting me like that,’ was the response to his questioning. ‘No comment.’

  ‘Really?’ Billy asked. ‘That’s your response?’

  ‘Let me at him,’ Colby growled. ‘I’ll get the truth out of him.’

  Mark’s eyes flicked from Billy to Colby and back, but he still kept his mouth shut.

  ‘No one’s touching anyone,’ said Billy. ‘Forensics will give me the answers.’

  That caused the boy’s eyes to widen with fear, just as Billy hoped. ‘Let him go, Memphis. We’ll get to the truth soon enough.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yes,’ Billy nodded. ‘After all he can’t go anywhere can he? We’ve got him locked up either way.’

  As Colby’s radio crackled and he turned his head to listen, Mark took the opportunity to run out of the art room.

  The Chief said, ‘Memphis, we need to speak to Sgt Williams, please.’

  When Memphis didn’t reply, the Chief said. ‘Now, Memphis.’

  ‘Alright, he’s on his way,’ Colby huffed as Billy followed Mark out of the door.

  Chapter 29

  ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Buggered if I know,’ Billy said with a grin in response to DI Briggs’ question. ‘Seriously though, I need more information. Please tell me you’ve got something for me.’

  ‘Yes. The fingerprint results.’

  ‘Thank God.’ Billy ran his hand through his hair. With the good news, some of the adrenaline he’d been running on left his system and he sagged a little with fatigue. Was the end in sight? He certainly hoped so. All he wanted was to get out of there and go home and fall back into bed, preferably with Emma. That thought made him grin.

  ‘Glad you’re keeping your spirits up,’ Briggs said.

  ‘Yeah, well…’

  ‘Let’s see,’ Briggs consulted some papers he was holding. ‘The prints on the knife from the cookery room belong to a lad called Mark Somersby.’

  ‘In for murder and just had his parole application rejected?’ interrupted Billy.

  ‘I see you’ve come across him already, then.’

  ‘Yeah, I was just talking to him when you called me over.’

  ‘Any luck with that?’

  ‘No, he’s not saying anything.’

  ‘Well, the prints are saying it all. At some point the lad had his mitts all over the knife.’

  ‘Do you think he was the last one to hold it?’

  ‘Almost definitely. His prints were on top of any others.’

  ‘That’s great news, thanks,’ said Billy. ‘What about the prints from the art room?’

  ‘Mostly Mr Walker’s. The others weren’t defined enough for a match.’

  ‘Figures. That’s what I thought too.’ Not the best news Billy had ever had.

  ‘The blood is more interesting though,’ Briggs said, consulting another sheet. ‘There was Mr Walker’s on it, obviously, even though it had been wiped clean. No one ever gets all the blood off, even though they think they have.’

  ‘Isn’t that the truth,’ agreed Billy.

  ‘The other blood sample based on initial findings of blood type is that it’s O negative.’

  ‘Really?’ that was good news as far as Billy was concerned. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Well, the lab are.’

  ‘That’s a rare type.’

  Briggs nodded his agreement. ‘Less than 5% of the world’s population have it.’

  ‘So who has it in here?’

  ‘That’s what we’re now trying to find out. Emma has gone over to admin to have a look.’

  ‘That information is on file?’

  ‘Yes. Sometimes it’s on their records when they arrive, blood having been taken or analysed as part of an investigation. Also, if any blood is taken whilst an in-mate is in here, their blood type is also noted.’

  ‘Bloody hell. For once all that admin stuff could really help us out.’

  ‘Looks like it. I’ll let you know once she’s back. She’s hoping it won’t take too long, it should be as simple as doing a search on the database.’

  ‘Brilliant. Any news on the CCTV?’

  Briggs grinned. ‘The Chief wasn’t happy about that. But he’s gone over to the control room to get someone to look through the recordings.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Billy said.

  ‘We’re the ones who should be thanking you. How are you holding up?’

  ‘Let’s just say I’m alright for the moment. Although this place has a way of shredding your nerves, if you know what I mean.’<
br />
  ‘Doesn’t it just. It always reminds me of a pressure cooker. It works most of the time, but take your eye off it at the wrong time, forget to take the weight off and instead of a slow release of pressure - it goes boom!’

  ‘Good analogy,’ agreed Billy and he turned away from the door. ‘Give me a shout when you’ve got something else.’

  As Billy walked back through the boys still hanging around waiting for something to happen, he caught snippets of their conversations.

  ‘I reckon it’s that new bloke!’ ‘What new bloke?’ ‘That Titas.’ ‘Idiot, he’s not here in education is he, he only arrived at the nick this morning!’

  ‘That Ethan bloke looks dodgy to me, see he’s cowering in the corner over there, bet he’s frightened he’s going to be found out.’ ‘Nah, he’s just coming off drugs. I heard he’s a heroin user.’

  ‘Must be Colby, or one of his lot.’ ‘Well I’m not spreading that rumour.’ ‘Frightened of him are you?’ ‘Fucking right I am, and so should you be.’

  ‘I just want out of here.’ ‘Yeah, but you don’t want to be accused of a murder you didn’t commit. I definitely don’t.’

  ‘I wish I knew who done it. I’d tell.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Really. I don’t want to be fitted up for a crime I didn’t commit.’

  The news from Briggs had buoyed Billy somewhat. He now had a good potential suspect in Mark Somersby and hopefully another one from the rare blood type, if he could be identified. But on the other hand, that blood could have been on there for some time. It didn’t necessarily mean the boy with the rare blood type was the killer. He’d have to come up with some other way of identifying the killer, as well as with the forensic evidence.

  He continued to listen to the boys as he walked back to the art room, hearing them jumping to conclusions, saying a certain inmate called Aiden was guilty when Billy knew the person they were talking about was innocent. He realised that even the inmates had the same attitude as some of the prison officers and others in charge. They were all guilty of branding someone as guilty, just because they were in prison. The attitude was that if someone was guilty of one crime, it wasn’t such a leap to imagine they were guilty of today’s murder.