Killing Time

by Mark Roberts

  Clay pressed play. ‘I’m armed with a Glock 17 pistol.’ Clay heard the iron in her own voice but, beneath this, the colossal tension she had sensed in those moments. ‘It is pointed directly at your head.’

  ‘So pull the goddamned trigger. Shoot me in the back of the head and live with the consequences. Go on, shoot me dead.’

  Lucy spat at Clay across the table and a ball of phlegm hit her on the cheekbone. Hendricks handed her a tissue from the box on the table and Clay wiped away Lucy Bell’s spit.

  ‘I’m not going to drop my gun. I don’t follow orders from the likes of you, Clay. I only follow orders from God.’

  ‘That’s right, Dad! That’s right... Go to hell, Clay,’ said Lucy.

  ‘That’s not going to help you any,’ said Father Aaron Bell.

  ‘What’s not going to help you any?’ asked Lucy.

  ‘The police helicopter was overhead at that time. Underneath the bravado, your father was really panicking at this point. That, Lucy, is the sound in the background of his victim begging to be finished off. Your father now...’

  ‘None of us are going to survive, none of us. I wish I could have visited her, I wish I could have called her, told her...’

  ‘Dad, you could have visited me...’

  ‘...how much I loved her...’

  ‘Even though you never said it, Dad, I knew you loved me all along...’

  ‘Kelly-Ann, how much I loved her with all my heart and soul.’

  As the sound of Father Aaron Bell’s final victim crawling and moaning on the ground drifted from Clay’s iPhone, she watched the blood drain from Lucy’s face and the horror registering in her eyes.

  ‘Turn! Turn it off!’

  ‘What about Lucy?’

  ‘What about her? She was a human albatross from the day she was born. I loathe and despise Lucy. Lucy? The fat, useless bitch. She was God’s punishment for what happened to Kelly-Ann.’

  Clay pressed pause.

  ‘His final thoughts on you and Kelly-Ann, Lucy. I’m going to give you half an hour to think about what you’ve heard, to talk to your solicitor, and then I’m going to bring you back for interview.’

  ‘We have so much evidence against you, evidence from your own writing, evidence from your phone, evidence about how you and Jack plotted to frame his brother for your joint racially motivated hate crimes,’ said Hendricks. ‘Cooperating with us is your only option.’ He turned to Lucy Bell’s solicitor. ‘Can you please advise your client accordingly.’

  ‘No, I’m afraid I’m walking on this one,’ said the solicitor.

  ‘I’ll need a new solicitor,’ said Lucy.

  ‘I suggest,’ said Clay, ‘that you behave yourself when your next solicitor shows. Otherwise they’ll walk. Stop acting like a petulant five year old, and get some grown-up manners.’

  116

  9.28 pm

  Clay looked at the blinking red 2 on her answer machine and, pressing play, looked out of the window of the incident room on the top floor of Trinity Road Police Station.

  The first message was silent; the receiver was quickly replaced by the caller.

  The second message began with a tentative, ‘Hello...’

  The voice was elderly and frail, and Clay wondered in the uncertain silence if it was going to be one of Father Aaron Bell’s congregation coming forward with information about the priest, or springing blindly to his defence.

  ‘Hello, Eve, Eve Clay. It’s Sister Ruth – remember me from St Claire’s? I was with you when you were a small girl, me and Sister Philomena. My number is 496 0688. I go to bed at seven in the evening but if you ask for the duty manager, Jane McGregor, you can arrange to come and see me. Any time is good for me except nine in the morning when I attend mass. It would be lovely to see you. Goodbye for now and God bless you, Eve.’

  She rang back immediately and within a few seconds the person at the other end connected.

  ‘Bethlehem House, Jane McGregor speaking.’

  ‘Hello, Jane, my name’s Eve Clay...’

  ‘I’ve heard so much about you, Eve. Is this concerning a visit to Sister Ruth?’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘She had another visitor recently. Father Aaron Bell. He said you wanted to see her and that he was acting as the go-between.’

  ‘Was he a friend of hers?’

  ‘No,’ replied Jane McGregor. Clay felt a modicum of relief. ‘Sister Ruth told him she’d contact you, but Father Aaron said you didn’t want her to get directly in touch with you.’

  ‘That’s simply not true. I’m more than happy to speak to Sister Ruth. I don’t need anyone acting as my go-between.’

  ‘He told Sister Ruth you’d contact her when you had the time. In the end, Sister Ruth grew tired of waiting. She contacted you directly in spite of what Father Aaron had said.’

  ‘I’m so glad she did. He lied to Sister Ruth and he lied to me.’

  ‘To be honest with you, DCI Clay,’ Jane’s voice dropped a few notches. ‘No one here really likes him. He comes here to distribute the Holy Sacrament with his daughter. I don’t know what it is about them...’

  You’re about to find out, thought Clay. ‘I’d like to come and see Sister Ruth at some point tomorrow, if that’s possible.’

  ‘Ring before you’re leaving and I’ll make sure she’s available. She doesn’t receive many visitors so it will be a nice change for her to see a face from the old days.’

  Clay saw Riley approaching quickly, her face lined with worry, and made a gesture acknowledging that they would speak immediately.

  ‘I’ve got to go, Jane. I will call before I leave. Thank you for your help.’

  As Clay hung up, Riley said, ‘I’ve just had a call from Hendricks. Lucy Bell wants to talk with you. It seems she and Jack Dare have got some sort of pact going on. She’s going to do all the talking for both of them.’

  ‘I’ll be down there in five minutes.’ Clay picked up the receiver and called home.

  ‘Eve?’ Thomas sounded perplexed and stressed-out. ‘I’m seeing all kinds of reports of a fire in the cathedral. Social media’s buzzing. Were you involved?’

  ‘I’m fine, stop giving yourself an ulcer. Pour yourself a drink and relax, I’ll explain everything when I see you. How’s Philip?’

  ‘Loving his new pet, Dixie.’

  The weight on her heart grew heavier. ‘Do me a favour, handsome?’

  ‘No problem.’

  ‘Let the cricket go. Get rid of the box it came in, but get it out of the house asap.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s got a parasite living inside it. And I’ve just watched the priest who gave it to Philip shoot a man in cold blood and set himself alight.’

  ‘Another quiet day in the office. I’ll release it then. Any place in particular?’

  ‘Away from Philip. Away from our home.’

  ‘I’ll do that as soon as we hang up. What about the book he gave him?’

  ‘I’ve just had a thought about that. Will you check it and see if there’s a dedication?’

  ‘One second.’

  She listened to him leave and return, talking to himself, ‘Dedicated to? Dedicated to? Eve, I’ve got it right here. It’s dedicated to a Kelly-Ann Carter. Is that helpful to you?’

  ‘Very. I’ll send a constable around for it. I may well need it in the next few hours.’

  ‘Are you all right, Eve?’

  ‘Hopefully I’ll be home at some point in the next few hours.’

  ‘I’m off from the surgery tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll join you.’

  ‘Call me when you’re on your way home and I’ll run the bath for you. He’s going to be disappointed when his cricket’s gone.’

  ‘Tell him... tell him we’ll buy him a dog.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. We’ll figure things out as we go along.’

  ‘He won’t be that disappointed then,’ laughed Thomas.

  ‘The sooner I go, the sooner I’m ho
me.’

  ‘I love you.’

  ‘Ditto.’

  ‘People around?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. But that was a very big, loud ditto, Thomas.’ Her voice became little more than a whisper. ‘Loaded with a promise you’d be a fool to turn down.’

  She replaced the receiver, straightened up into professional mode and picked up the printout of Lucy Bell’s secret diary from her desk.

  117

  9.48 pm

  At the front desk of Trinity Road Police Station, Jack Dare stared into nothing and was as silent as he was vacant.

  ‘Jack,’ said Clay. ‘You’ve just been charged with murder.’

  The door leading into the station opened.

  ‘And I’ve just responded. I understand...’

  ‘But do you understand how serious this is for you?’

  His eyes turned in her direction but he looked right through her. Footsteps approached and Clay turned to see Carmel Dare walking towards them.

  ‘You’re a liar, Jack!’

  Jack faced his mother. ‘What are you doing here?’

  Clay weighed Carmel up, and saw a woman on the verge of collapse, whose world had turned inside out in a matter of days.

  ‘I said, what are you doing here, mother?’

  ‘I’ve come to see you.’

  She folded her arms and glared at Jack. ‘I went to see Doctor Salah, to get some medication for my nerves. I thanked him for helping Raymond, for having him back, for issuing him with a new prescription, for putting him back on track with Broad Oak. I sat there and praised you to the sky, said what a wonderful son and brother you are. He looked at me as if I wasn’t right in the head. Why was that, Jack?’ Carmel Dare stepped forward and held her son’s gaze. The corners of his mouth cracked into the merest smile. ‘Doctor Salah looked on his laptop, checked the medical centre’s records. Jack didn’t make an appointment on his brother’s behalf. That’s what he said, Jack. And me like a prize idiot said, Are you sure, Doctor Salah? He told me straight. Jack didn’t bring his brother in to see me and I didn’t issue a prescription for Raymond’s drugs. I asked him to double-check with the reception desk. I could see in his eyes he was getting brassed off at this point, but I wanted so badly to believe that it was all a terrible mistake. Do you know what the receptionists had to say for themselves? Jack definitely didn’t make an appointment for Raymond. All three of them, Jack. What do you say to that? What are you smirking at?’

  ‘You.’

  ‘Cheeky bastard.’

  ‘Cheeky bitch. I’ve just been charged with murder, and you blow in here worrying about Raymond and what I have and haven’t done for him. I’m more important than Raymond, and that’s a fact you’ve never understood.’

  ‘He was weak but you were strong. I had to protect him.’

  ‘You’re like a stuck record and I’m sick of listening to the jarring noise of your voice.’

  Carmel hung onto the edges of the desk with both hands.

  ‘Why did you promise me you’d help him and why did you lie to me?’

  Jack looked away from his mother and at the clock on the wall.

  ‘Look at me, Jack. Why did you lie to me?’

  ‘Less than two minutes to go,’ he replied.

  ‘What does that mean?’ asked Carmel.

  ‘So I told a lie, Mum. What do you want me to say about Raymond? Why did you sleep with a man with nigger blood in him and bring his runt into this world?’

  The blood flew from her extremities and her face turned chalk-white. Fury left her speechless.

  ‘Do you want to know what else I lied about?’

  He looked back at the clock as the minute hand edged closer to ten to ten.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I wasn’t protecting him from the police when I burned his clothes. I made a pig’s ear of it, so the police’d think it was him covering his tracks and destroying the evidence. I was setting him up. I planted evidence in his bedroom. I planted a template of the Black Sun symbol and black paint, the things I used to leave graffiti at the Picton Road scene. I wrote most of his manifesto and planted the words Killing Time Is Here Embrace It inside it. I planted ideas in his head. I flushed his medication down the toilet and convinced him he’d done it. We even set him up with some foreign slag called Dominika.’

  ‘We?’ Carmel looked as if she was about to explode with anger.

  ‘Lucy and me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Lots of reasons. But me, personally? Because I hate him, I always have done and I always will.’ He looked at the clock, smiled broadly and said, ‘Nearly there. But I don’t hate him as much as I hate you.’ He sniffed loudly. ‘You stink. You stink of cooking oil and failure.’

  As Carmel lurched towards him, Clay grabbed her and held on.

  ‘Get him out of here!’ said Clay. ‘Carmel, please don’t make us restrain you.’

  Sergeant Harris took Jack by the arm and marched him in the direction of the cells. ‘Have you got anything else to say, Jack?’

  He looked back over his shoulder. ‘Yes. His non-existent friends, CJ and Buster. I put them inside his head. It’s ten to ten, so these are the very last words that will proceed from my mouth. Such is the will of the Lord. The end. The vow of silence. Everlasting silence. Amen.’

  As the door closed and Jack was gone, Clay felt the merest reduction of tension in Carmel’s body.

  ‘Let me go, DCI Clay.’

  Clay released her arms.

  Carmel looked at Clay, eyes brimming with tears. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I’m about to find out, Carmel.’

  ‘How can you find out if he won’t speak, for God’s sake?’

  ‘I’m going to speak to Lucy Bell.’

  ‘Her and her father. They’ve messed with his head. This isn’t Jack. It just isn’t him at all.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Carmel. I really am sorry.’ But I believe it is.

  118

  10.03 pm

  Clay sat down next to Hendricks, across from Lucy Bell and her new solicitor Mr Jones. Looking at the young woman, Clay could see a pronounced improvement in her demeanour. She glanced at Hendricks and saw the glimmer of a smile in his eyes.

  ‘You know what, Lucy,’ said Hendricks. ‘You look like you did when I watched you give your lecture on Joseph Stalin.’

  Lucy said nothing as Hendricks went on to formally open the interview.

  Clay pushed the printout of the diary across the table. ‘Would you like to say anything to Detective Sergeant Hendricks’s observation about you?’

  ‘Yes. Things that have happened in the past are classed as history. I’m going to talk history to both of you. In this I have every confidence. I am not a useless bitch. I am not God’s punishment for anything that happened or is going to happen to Kelly-Ann Carter, whoever she is. That is nothing to do with me. Aaron Bell has incensed me greatly.’

  Lucy turned over a few pages of her diary.

  ‘We’ve got everything in writing, Lucy, but we want to hear it from your mouth. We want to hear you tell your side of things for the benefit of the audio tape on the table beside you and the camera up in the corner pointing at you. The printed page is one thing. Hearing it directly from the central player is altogether different, and much more positive from my point of view. There might be things you have omitted from your written account that come to mind as you speak.’ She turned to Mr Jones. ‘Do you have anything to say on behalf of your client, Mr Jones?’

  ‘She would like to apologise for her behaviour earlier.’

  ‘I’m sorry for spitting at you, DCI Clay.’

  ‘Miss Bell and I have had a long and serious discussion, and she now accepts that the voice on your iPhone was her father, and that you didn’t manufacture it to undermine her. She is naturally upset at his death but she has been even more upset by the things he said about her. She became quite angry with him at one point and would be grateful if you could refer to him as Aaron or Aaron Bell as you ques
tion her.’

  ‘Not a problem,’ said Clay. ‘Let’s start with something I know nothing about, Lucy. You have a pact with Jack Dare.’

  ‘We made a pact. In the event that we got caught, he would take a vow of silence. He would honour the Lord by speaking only to God, in prayerfulness in his heart, in his soul, in his head. I will do the talking and when I have finished I will join him in that silent act of lifelong worship.’

  Clay put herself in Carmel Dare’s position, imagined Philip squandering his future and taking a ridiculous vow to gag himself indefinitely. ‘You do realise that this pact may be unworkable when you go to court?’

  ‘We will seek guidance from the Holy Spirit when the time comes.’

  ‘Tell me what you know about the abduction of Marta Ondřej,’ said Clay.

  ‘This was nothing to do with me. I advised against it. I told them crimes against children have terrible consequences. They did not listen to my advice.’

  ‘They?’

  ‘Aaron Bell and Jack Dare.’

  ‘Did they target Marta?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Karl Adamczak told my father about the girl. He was sorry that England had allowed Czech Roma into the country.’

  ‘Who picked her up?’

  ‘Jack, in Aaron Bell’s car. I was with my academic tutor at the time. Aaron Bell was in his house or church. As I stressed in my diary, I was not there, so I cannot be sure of the details.’

  ‘Jack could tell us?’

  ‘Jack could but he won’t.’

  ‘What did he tell you?’

  ‘The Adamczak brothers told Aaron Bell about the multiple tenancy that Marta lived in with her mother and other people. They told him that the people in the house were giving other migrants a bad name. Jack, who was obedient at all times to Aaron. Jack, who knew everything about Aaron’s crimes in America. Jack, who knew everything about the crimes in England, and joined in willingly.’

  ‘Stop!’ said Clay. ‘Your diary stretches back over years, detailing your visits to Jack when he was in prison. You brainwashed him when he was inside, and when he came out Aaron Bell finished the process off. Between you, you reset his moral compass and made him believe that evil was good and good was evil, and that everything you did was God’s will. And when you’re caught, how convenient for you – Jack closes down.’