Death's Privilege

by Darryl Donaghue

  ‘Yeah, have I? Good point, Mr Bell. I think she’s trying to be clever.’ From ignoring him to being side by side as soon as he became useful again. It seemed to be her way.

  DS Bosden answered before Sarah could. ‘No, she hasn’t.’ He gave Sarah a look and tapped the plan she was still holding on to, despite no longer following. If it’d been too much of a deviation, she was certain Bosden would have simply taken over. Leilani’s change of tone told her she was getting somewhere. She needed to dig a little deeper and, as long as Bosden wasn’t ripping the interview plan out of her hands and switching off the tape, she was going to do just that.

  ‘She hasn’t strictly been implicated in the murder of Sheila Hargreaves, no. Someone else, Sally-Anne Moretti...’ careful how you phrase this ‘...is facing charges in connection with that.’

  ‘What? Sally-Anne charged with murder?’ Leilani slammed her hands on the table. ‘You’ve stitched her up.’ Mr Bell repeated his request for her to remain silent, but she continued. ‘She’d never do that.’

  ‘You didn’t know? She’s your friend, right? Why didn’t she tell you?’

  ‘Officer, that is a leading question. At no point has my client—’

  ‘She’s nobody’s friend but her own. Not mine, that’s for sure. Either way, she’s no murderer.’

  ‘We’ll have to see about that.’

  Leilani opened her mouth to respond; Sarah cut her off. Letting the suspect talk was the entry-level tactic. They’d make a mistake. They’d provide the rope to hang themselves with. That wouldn’t work with Leilani Hayes. She’d played the victim, the down-and-out, the seducer, and the big-shot investor, and had strung everyone along the whole time. Sarah had no doubt she could spin a story so well Sergeant Smith would release her without charge, giving her a lollipop and a pat on the bum as she left. Sarah needed to unnerve her. She had to reach underneath the surface and find something to throttle. ‘On to Valerie Goddard, the owner of the Oxlaine.’

  ‘Well, let me tell you all about her. You think I’m crazy? Let's just say you’re lucky she’s dead.’ Leilani took a deep breath and settled down, as if she’d caught herself in a mirror and decided unrestrained rage wasn’t a good look.

  Twenty-Seven

  Dales brought Semples another cup of tea and pulled up a chair across the desk. Semples had calmed. He was still a long way from coming to terms with it, but Dales didn’t need him in the later stages of grieving, he just needed him to talk. He needed him to say enough for Dales to decide whether he was a witness or a co-suspect.

  ‘Mr Semples, what do you know about today’s events at the Oxlaine?’

  ‘Valerie was a troubled woman. Anyone meeting her would think she lived a life of privilege, which of course in many ways she did. Her coffers were full, but her heart empty. She had very little joy in her life. I like to think I contributed to some of it, but we never really know and by the time we think to ask, it’s too late.’

  ‘I’m sure she appreciated your friendship over the years.’

  ‘Thank you, Sergeant. Kind words, but this is the trouble, you see. It was impossible to know what she appreciated and what she didn’t. What she wanted and what she couldn’t stand. Who she loved and who was a persistent inconvenience. Before her divorce, she was an entirely different woman. When he left—and he was no prince, what she ever saw in him is a mystery to me—she broke down. Not all at once, but over time. She took me on to run the Oxlaine. We became close after the divorce.’

  ‘Close?’

  ‘Not like that.’ A smile spread across his face as if reminiscing about a time that never was. ‘No, none of that kind of carry on. We cared about each other, or so I’d like to think. But nothing more...more physical.’

  ‘Mr Semples, a few hours ago, your friend poisoned herself and four others. What do you know about that?’ The questions had to be asked. Keeping witnesses on topic was important, especially grieving ones that wanted to reminisce. Dales was capable of being patient when the task required it, but all-you-can-talk counselling wasn’t a service he offered regularly.

  ‘This is what I’m saying, she was a troubled woman. She wasn’t always aware of what she was doing and incredibly stubborn when given good advice. You’ve got to understand that. You do understand that, don’t you?’

  ‘I understand that you haven’t been entirely honest with us so far and that has to change. Sheila was Valerie’s niece, wasn’t she?’

  ‘Yes, Valerie wanted that kept quiet,' said Semples.

  ‘Why? Because of how the murder of the black sheep of the family under her nose looks? Sheila Hargreaves was poisoned, and Valerie was poisoned today. That’s not a coincidence, is it?’

  ‘If you think Valerie had anything to do with Sheila’s death you’re very much mistaken. Telling you they were related, would have led to more police snooping around, and, as I’m sure you’ve worked out, she doesn’t really like police.’

  ‘Maybe because we may stumble on her drugs stash?’ Dales wasn't about to let him off that easy—grieving or not grieving.

  Semples gritted his teeth. ‘Must you sully her memory like this? Make her out to be some street-corner drug pusher?’

  ‘We need to know the full facts of what happened this afternoon.’ Dales wanted him to admit his involvement. Semples may not have been in the room at the time, but he still had questions to answer. Dales wanted to know just what he was doing the night PCT snapped him leaving a dealer’s address. Ideally, he’d show him the photo, removing any wiggle room he might use to get out of it. Doing so would reveal the location of the observation point, and although Semples didn’t seem the sort to have a close enough connection with his drug dealer to feed it back, Dales didn’t want to take the risk. Members of the public were often asked to allow surveillance teams to use their addresses to keep an eye on other premises. Revealing those addresses had led to serious consequences for the occupiers in the past, and were treated as highly confidential.

  ‘Valerie was a very ill woman. She needed certain things to help her through the day. Her doctor prescribed medication, but it wasn’t effective. I had to seek out other ways of helping. I’m afraid to say, Sergeant, in this town, finding someone for a fix isn’t hard to do. I know it’s illegal. I imagine you’ll want to book me for it. Feel free, nothing much matters now.’

  ‘What did you buy?’

  ‘An army friend of mine suffered terribly with PTSD. He said coke helped and could help people with depression too. Referred me to studies and research, but I was sold the moment there was any chance of it helping. I bought it, she tried it and you know the rest. I don’t like it any more than you do. I was brought up with respect for the law, but when there’s a need, a need to comfort a loved one, people with the strength of character do it, and face the consequences of their actions.’

  ‘What mood was she in this morning? Anything to indicate what she was about to do in that conference room?’ Dales had no intention of booking him for drugs offences, but didn't want to tell him that until he had the information he needed.

  ‘There are always indicators when you care for someone for this long. It’s just a matter of whether we acknowledge them or not, and even then if we’re able do something about them. Sometimes things still go awry, despite all our best efforts to avoid the worst.’

  He was wandering off the subject a little. Semples’ philosophising may have helped him come to terms with his loss and the decisions he’d made for Valerie, but it wasn’t helping Dales get the straight answers he needed.

  ‘Mr Semples, what indicators are you talking about?’

  ‘When you’re wealthy, there’s an endless string of people just waiting to take it all from you. Favours for this, demands for that. We spoke about it when you and I first met, someone taking money from her.’

  ‘Mr Semples, we need to stay on topic. We can revisit the fraud at a later date if you’ve got new information for us, but for now, we need to talk about the poisoning.’


  ‘It’s not the poisoning of the body that’s important, Sergeant. It’s the poisoning of the mind. That little bitch, Naomi, poisoned Valerie’s mind. I wanted to tell you earlier I had my suspicions, but I didn’t want to upset Valerie, you understand.’ Semples looked enraged and began welling up again.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Naomi, you met her on reception back at the hotel. Before you left.’

  ‘Naomi? Leilani. Leilani Hayes. Brunette, pretty thing? Or maybe Taryn? Taryn White?’ Dales was thoroughly confused.

  ‘Who?’ Semples thought for a moment. ‘No, there’s no one on our books by either of those names.’

  ‘Valerie was drunk with power, money and a bitter, bitter, hatred for her father. He left at a young age. It left the poor woman very troubled.’ Leilani appeared more relaxed as she continued her story, the same Sarah had heard from Moretti.

  ‘How did you meet?’ She kept her questions short and direct, not giving Leilani anything to bite back with.

  ‘I worked there. On reception. You know, how we met?’ Leilani rolled her eyes. 'Why are you asking questions you already know the answer to?'

  ‘She poisoned herself earlier today.’

  ‘Mr Bell said there were five people in total. Just out of interest, Sarah, who were the others?’ Leilani leaned forward, poised for the answer she already knew.

  ‘Employees at a web design company, there for a meeting.’ Sarah kept her nerve, but she could feel it breaking.

  ‘Anyone you know?’

  ‘Were you at the Oxlaine today?’

  ‘Your husband was one of the four, right? How’s he doing?’

  ‘What happened in that room?’ I know you know.

  Mr Bell interjected. ‘Officer, your disclosure document states my client was arrested outside 12 Tower Road. Do you have anything putting her at the scene of the poisoning offence at the relevant time?’

  Leilani kept talking. ‘All I’ll say is, Valerie—as mad as a box of frogs.’ She twirled her fingers at the side of her head. ‘Capable of anything.’

  Bosden had been scribbling notes since the start of the interview. He pointed to the bottom of his page. Sarah read, ‘Stick to the plan. You’re risking the interview being deemed inadmissible.’

  Sarah shook her head, but knew the plan wasn’t going to get them anywhere. Leilani was shut off. She danced between personalities, each one peering over from behind walls created by some tragic event long since passed. Sarah had tried tripping her up, tried galvanising an emotional reaction using lists of questions cooked up in a police training room. The cheap shots Leilani fired from behind her fort caused Sarah to put up a front of her own. Limiting her emotional response prevented Leilani getting in, getting the hot-blooded reaction she craved. It’d also stopped Sarah truly engaging with her. Time to give you a little of what you want.

  ‘He’s alive. Came to at the hospital.’ Just answering her question makes me feel like I’m losing.

  ‘Good, I’m glad. The last thing I’d want is for you to find out what he was really like and then, you know, he goes and dies on you too.’ Leilani drew her thumb across her neck and tilted her head.

  ‘It’ll be tough to deal with the betrayal. The realisation someone wasn’t who you thought they were. That kind of thing can drive you mad,’ said Sarah.

  ‘I wouldn’t know.’

  ‘Then you’re one of the lucky ones.’ Sarah smiled, as graciously as she could bring herself to.

  ‘Hardly. You don’t know me.’

  ‘Does anyone?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Does anyone know you? Not you the receptionist. Not you the strip club server, the down-and-out drug pusher or the seducer of other women’s husbands. Just you.’

  ‘Your husband didn’t take much seducing.’

  One more time and I’ll...Stop it. Hold to the plan. Your plan.

  ‘Officers, is this an interview or a chat show? I must be firm and final when I say keep the questions relevant to the offences my client is being interviewed for. Continue in this manner and I will stop the interview and make representations to the—’

  ‘You’re dismissed.’ Leilani’s statement left no room for discussion.

  Sarah expected Mr Bell to be more surprised than his calm reaction suggested. It was as if he’d given up on her anyway. ‘Miss Hayes, I strongly suggest you reconsider. You’ve been arrested on serious charges and—’

  ‘Out.’

  Mr Bell had no recourse. Leilani had the free choice of whether to employ a legal advisor or not. He suggested they take a break and talk about it, but she refused.

  ‘Well, for the benefit of the tape, I am leaving the interview room as my client has dismissed me from duties as her legal brief.’ Mr Bell left and an awkward tension filled the room.

  Bosden was next to be addressed. Leilani pointed at him. ‘You. You can stay. You’ve been a good little boy and stayed quiet.’

  ‘I can stay because it’s my interview room and I’ll ask you whatever I want.’ Bosden looked taken aback. He was an experienced sergeant and wasn’t used to being spoken to in such a way.

  ‘It’s her interview room, actually.’ Leilani looked back at Sarah.

  Sarah continued before Bosden let his ego get the better of him, and the entire interview. ‘Did you ever take any money from Valerie Goddard?’

  ‘She gave me money. I’d had a terrible childhood too. We bonded. She gave me gifts, there’s no crime in that, is there?’

  ‘Tell me about that childhood.’

  Leilani took a deep breath in, leant back and started her story. ‘I was abandoned. Folks just upped and left one day, I lived on the streets, in dosshouses. Nothing you’d know anything about. I got caught up in the wrong crowd, nasty people that made me do nasty things. You want to know more? You enjoying this?’

  ‘It wasn’t just you, was it? You were looking after someone.’ Sarah couldn't tell if she was finally getting somewhere with her, or whether this was all another facade. One thing she did know, was that after everything that hadn't worked, she still had one hand to play.

  ‘I don’t know who you’re talking about.’

  ‘You know exactly who I’m talking about. You knew she was there at 12 Tower Road. You accused Sally-Anne of kidnapping her, but she wasn’t doing anything of the sort, was she? She was saving her from you.’

  ‘Saving her from me? I know what I’ve been accused of, but I’m hardly going to harm my own sister. You’re as insane as the rest of them.’ Leilani flung her hands in the air, and rolled up the sleeves on her oversized paper suit.

  ‘She’s upstairs, speaking to Child Protection right now. I think she’s telling them a very different story, don’t you?’

  Leilani slammed her hands on the table. ‘Fuck you and fuck all of this. We’re done. I’m not saying another word.’

  ‘When your greed got too much, you used her to blackmail people, didn’t you? You made the little sister you’re responsible for commit sexual acts so you could blackmail the men you targeted? You know we have evidence to say you made her massage a man in the back of your club. You filmed it and used it to blackmail Joel Johnson.’

  Leilani welled up and reached for the tape machine. Sarah grabbed her hands, stopping her from taking the tape out. ‘Get the fuck off me. You leave her alone. You try and stick anything on her and I’ll...’ She stood up.

  ‘Sit down now and answer my questions. She’s upstairs being braver than you’ll ever give her credit for. And you can hate me all you want, you can want to wreck my life for whatever twisted reason you want to tell yourself, but you owe that little girl an answer, so you sit back down and you give it.’

  Leilani did as she was told.

  ‘You decided to blackmail Joel Johnson in the full knowledge he was a police officer. Getting what you wanted was so important, you put your little sister in a horrific position in order to get it and in your arrogance, you expected Joel to just roll over. When he didn’t,
that angered you. He refused to play, just like Scott Enderson did before you murdered him.’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Who helped you do it? It’s clear you’ve got the venom to strangle him, but you couldn’t hang him alone. Who else was in Amblin Park that night?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Who’s Jaina Wilde? A video games addict? Naomi? An investor looking for a new project? You tailored yourself to be whatever they wanted, just to lure them in. When they didn’t play into your little world, you tried to kill them. With Scott Enderson you were successful, and you’d have killed Moretti this afternoon if you’d had the chance.’

  ‘She was kidnapping my sister, as you well know. Who knows where she was planning on taking her.’ Leilani slammed the table again. 'Why don't you believe me?'

  ‘Wherever Moretti was taking her, it was better than letting her stay with you. You’d already punished Moretti once this week, hadn’t you?’

  Leilani scoffed.

  ‘You knew Moretti was in a new relationship with Sheila and didn’t want her meeting her son too soon. She told me in interview she booked a room at the Oxlaine through a friend. That friend was you, wasn’t it? I’m going to go one further—you suggested she stay there and used your influence with Valerie to get them a free room, an offer you knew they wouldn’t refuse. Moretti didn’t want her new girlfriend to meet her kid yet, and you knew Sheila’s parents didn’t approve. And Moretti’s money began to run out the moment she tried to stop you killing Enderson, coincidentally?

  ‘When you suggested to Valerie that a friend of yours stay for free, you switched the bottle of wine that was waiting for her in room 334. That friend was Sheila Hargreaves, but she wasn’t your friend, was she? She was Sally-Anne’s girlfriend and you wanted to teach her a lesson for trying to save Enderson’s life. You knew she used cocaine and you could convince Moretti it was the drugs, rather than you, that ended her life.’

  ‘No comment.’

  Sarah was expecting Bosden to jump in any second, but he stayed quiet throughout. The interview was being watched upstairs and no one had come rushing down to stop it. She’d long ago ditched Bosden’s plan and was having a far greater impact on Leilani for doing so.