by A. J. Cross
‘She’s having enough trouble talking one-on-one with you about what happened. What makes you think a re-enactment would be any better?’
‘It requires an entirely different kind of engagement from her to what has been attempted, which so far has been Molly inside the house she shared with her husband, listening to her own voice recreate mayhem, knowing that her mother is just feet away and worried sick.’
‘And you think a re-enactment might be different?’
‘Yes. A change of surroundings, an opportunity for her to be in control of the situation. Plus, her focus would be on the factual aspects of what happened, which is likely to reduce her emotional engagement with the process.’ He paused. ‘We need to offer her a situation in which her practical brain function has free reign.’
Watts checked his watch, reached for the phone. ‘How many officers are in right now, Reynolds?’ He nodded. ‘Tell them to stay put. We’re on our way up.’ He replaced the phone. ‘Most of them are here. I take it you’re as confident about this re-enactment as you sound?’
‘Sufficient to outline it as the way ahead.’
‘In that case, they need to hear about it. I’ll give Brophy a quick heads-up. He needs to know about it as well.’
Investigative officers were waiting as they walked inside the incident room. Judd headed for Julian, took the chair next to him. The door opened and Brophy appeared.
Traynor faced them, looking pensive. He had to provide an explanation which was sufficient for what he considered the only way forward, but no more.
‘As a team we’re aware that Molly Lawrence has provided some useful information about the attack on her and her husband. However, the trauma of that experience is blocking her efforts to tell us more.’
‘Trauma, my—’
Seeing Brophy’s lips thin, Watts said, ‘Watch what you’re saying, Judd.’
‘Sarge, we’re here every day, working long hours, chasing all possible leads, avoiding the press. She has to get a grip and start working with us.’
Watts pointed at her, keeping his voice low. ‘You were full of sympathy for her a day or so ago. Keep your gripes to yourself so Will can tell us how his idea can move this investigation forward.’
She flushed, ran her fingers through her hair, leaving it spikier than before. ‘Sorry, Will, Sarge, but the hours we’re all working with nothing coming of it, it’s doing my head in.’ Her words got several nods of agreement, plus an awed look from Reynolds.
‘All yours, Will,’ said Watts. They waited, Traynor choosing his words.
‘Molly Lawrence continues to experience significant difficulty in providing details of the shootings. In her interests and those of this investigation, I’m considering a different approach which could help her verbalize the memories she does have. Re-enactment. It’s our best hope.’
He tracked the various officers’ responses, ranging from uncertainty to scepticism. ‘I want to encourage her engagement with events of that night while reducing her emotional responses to them. I believe that inviting her to show us what occurred could give her a sense of control so that she is able to release the detail she has. She has managed to provide some of that detail during my three visits to her but not at the pace or to the degree needed by this investigation. She is frustrated by her own difficulty in giving more. I believe this behavioural approach is in her and our best interests.’
He looked around the room, still seeing uncertainty on some faces. ‘When we put this into practice Molly needs to feel comfortable so I’m going to ask a small number of you to be directly involved. If what I’m suggesting sounds strange, once we start the planning process, I believe you’ll appreciate what I’ve suggested. I want the following officers directly involved in the re-enactment: Jones and Kumar, Chloe Judd, DI Watts as SIO, Adam as head of forensics, plus two of his officers, and Dr Chong. There will be a meeting at six forty-five this evening for those named.’
He glanced around the room. ‘I’m asking all of you to trust what I’m saying about this as the way forward.’
He stepped away. Watts stood. ‘That meeting will be in my office.’
He and Traynor followed Brophy’s stiff-backed figure from the incident room.
‘I’d say four out of ten for enthusiasm,’ observed Traynor quietly.
‘They need some thinking time to get their heads around it,’ said Watts. ‘What matters is that you’re fully committed to it as the only way Molly Lawrence is going to give us more information.’
‘That’s exactly what it is.’
They came into the office, Watts’ eyes fixed on him. ‘What would you say, Traynor, if I said that I’ve got a feeling that you’re on to something in this case?’
‘I’d say that all I have is a theory, and that theories have no value unless tested.’
‘Come on, Will.’ He watched Traynor shake his head and walk to the door.
‘It might give us nothing.’
As Traynor left, he reached for the phone. Barely a minute later, Reynolds appeared, looking apprehensive. ‘You want to see me, Sarge?’
‘Yes. I’ve got a job for you.’ He outlined what he wanted. ‘When you’ve done what I’ve asked, I want a detailed account which shows me that what I said to you the other day about authority struck home.’
‘Yes, sir!’
Scarcely a minute after Reynolds’ departure, the door flew open and hit the wall. Judd came inside, dropped onto her chair, jumped up again. ‘I’ve just been ranted at by Brophy, I’ve had enough. I’m going home!’
‘You’re still on duty and you will be for a while.’
‘The way he went on at me! You should have heard it. He said—’
‘That being bolshy wasn’t your best bet for progressing in the force and phrases like “my arse” are inappropriate from an officer, particularly one who’s female and young, such as yourself.’
She gave him a look. ‘Sexism and ageism, is what that is!’
He had to tell her. She had to know that, whatever she’d learned from life so far, it didn’t give her carte blanche to say what the hell she liked. Not in the force.
‘You want to get on here?’
‘You know I do. I will.’
He looked directly at her as the door opened and Chong came inside. ‘Advice time, Judd.’
She rolled her eyes.
‘Policing has moved on a lot in the last few years but you’re missing a key point. It’s got traditional values, conservativism with a small “c” running straight through the middle of it and it won’t change, so it’s you who has to.’ He watched her swing her bag onto her shoulder and head for the door.
‘Bloody old fashioned is what I think of it,’ she snapped, walking past Chong and out.
Chong looked in the direction she’d gone, then back to Watts, brows raised. ‘Anarchy in the ranks?’ She came to him and put her hand on his arm. ‘Hey.’
‘I learned something today. She’s just turned twenty-one.’
‘Which seems to be adding to your mood, because?’
‘I’ve seen too many cases involving kids growing up in situations which most people couldn’t imagine and wouldn’t believe. I doubt Judd ever had a birthday card or anything else to mark the day. I’ve checked. I suspect the date she uses for official forms is one her parents thought would do and stuck on her birth certificate when they could be bothered to get around to registering it. That’s what years in this job tell me happened.’
He got to his feet. ‘And now you’ve come to take me from this to something better?’
She put her arms around him, something she’d never done at work before. ‘That’s the general idea,’ she whispered. ‘Where do you fancy?’
‘Anywhere you are, and close enough for us to be back in about an hour.’
7.15 p.m.
They were seated around the table, Traynor outlining his plan.
‘The objective is to create a situation in which Molly Lawrence feels as relaxed as possib
le, able to tell us all she recalls of the attack on her husband and herself. As a victim-witness, she has information no one else can give us. Without that, we have nothing except the gun, a problematic fingerprint, the value of which is uncertain and circumstantial at best.’
He searched their faces. ‘Witnesses to extreme violence invariably experience anxiety as a consequence. They often need considerable therapy to assist them to move beyond the experience to a point where they can talk about it. Unfortunately, we don’t have that time. There’s a violent individual out there who needs identifying. The re-enactment is our only chance of doing that.’
‘You sound pretty sure, Will.’
‘As sure as I can be, Adam. I provided Molly Lawrence with the freedom to say whatever she wished. It failed. There’s too much we don’t know. We need her focused on the practical side of her thinking. She’s an accountant. That kind of thinking, that clarity is the norm for her.’ He glanced around the table.
‘I’ve agreed with Dr Chong and Adam that the Forensic Test Area is an ideal setting for a re-enactment. It’s large, featureless, a space Molly has never seen and which has zero emotional significance for her. It is an ideal situation in which she can move around and guide us through her recall. We can’t exclude emotional responses but the aim is to reduce them to a minimum as she physically guides us through the events of that night and shows us what happened, where it happened and how. I’ve used it on other cases in the past. It worked.’ He paused. ‘My next task is to present the plan to Molly. She may refuse. If she does, it looks increasingly likely that no one affected by those shootings will get justice. There’s nothing harder to bear than that.’
Judd broke the silence. ‘Forge Street, the actual scene, won’t be part of this at all?’
‘No. It’s too emotive.’ He turned to Adam. ‘Can your department produce a replica of the Lawrences’ Toyota?’
‘You’re talking life-size.’
‘Yes, but featureless. A stand-in for the actual car which needs to be moved somewhere out of sight. Can you do that?’
‘No problem.’
Traynor looked to Judd. ‘Molly remembers you very positively from your visit to the hospital. If she agrees to this plan, you’ll have a central role alongside her, prompting her with brief, non-emotive sentences such as “how did that happen?” and “what happened next?” It might sound simple but it takes a lot of concentration. I need you to tell me now if you’re not comfortable with it, Chloe.’
‘I’m in. I’ll do it.’
‘Thank you.’ He turned his attention to Jones and Kumar. ‘You were both at the scene as its aftermath was unfolding. I need your eyes and ears on every aspect of the re-enactment, checking and comparing all you see and hear with what you observed.’
Jones spoke for them both. ‘No problem. Before we do it, we’ll go through our own statements of that night.’
Traynor nodded, looked across to Watts. ‘You have to be there as SIO, Bernard. If we get information which identifies this gunman, you’ll have your day in court.’ He looked along the table. ‘Dr Chong has to be there to oversee Molly’s physical and emotional responses, be ready to assist her if necessary.’
Chong nodded.
‘And finally, we need two of your forensic team, Adam, each video-recording the whole process from two different vantage points. Go through your record of what you know happened that night. Molly might recall something small, incidental and easily-missed.’
‘Any ideas as to what her response to your proposal might be?’ Watts asked.
‘None.’
Watts took out his phone. ‘We need Brophy’s approval.’ Judd’s fingers drummed the table, Traynor paced the room. Watts ended the call. ‘He said yes.’ They all breathed out.
Traynor lifted his phone. ‘Now, I have a call to make.’
8.45 p.m.
‘Hello, Molly.’
‘Will?’
‘I hope this call isn’t too late for you?’
‘No. I avoid sleep. I wake with all kinds of madness inside my head. Accidents involving aircraft, boats, people being blown up … I’m afraid of everything, Will. Being alone. Being with people. Going out, staying in.’
‘They’re all normal responses, Molly.’
‘What about feeling guilty?’
‘That too.’
‘Why do I feel guilt, Will?’
‘Because you’re still here.’
‘A lot of the time I feel nothing. But when I try to leave the house … the fear starts up and I can’t do it.’
Traynor was now foreseeing a difficulty in what he was about to propose. He wanted her positive. ‘It’s possible to challenge those responses, Molly.’
‘Is that what you did?’ She waited. ‘I searched your name online. Saw what happened to your family. You really do understand, Will.’
‘Yes.’
‘I know what you, the police need from me, but it’s like there’s a video running in my head and it’s faulty. It keeps stopping. I don’t know how to get it going again.’
What he was hearing was how most people viewed memory processes. In reality, it wasn’t like that. ‘Molly, I’m going to suggest a way which might encourage your recall.’
‘How?’
‘By giving you the chance to re-enact what happened to you and Mike but with all of the control in your hands.’
‘I won’t be hypnotized.’
He heard spiralling panic.
‘I can’t feel more out of control than I am already, I just can’t.’
‘It doesn’t involve hypnosis. It’s a practical way for you to revisit what happened.’ He waited.
‘What do you mean, “practical”?’
He briefly explained the plan to her, and where it would take place. ‘Remember, you told me that you liked officer Chloe Judd? What she said about the big indoor space I’ve described when she first saw it was that it “looked like Lidl without any stuff”.’ He heard her quiet laugh and realized he had never heard it before.
‘I have to think about it, Will. Can I phone you back?’
‘Of course. You’re entitled to refuse.’ Traynor ended the call, looked at them.
‘Now, we wait.’
They sat or paced, each preoccupied with what they wanted and what Molly Lawrence’s response might be. Traynor’s phone rang.
He reached for it and listened. ‘Thank you, Molly,’ and ended the call.
‘She said yes.’
TWENTY-SIX
Friday 21 December. 8.30 a.m.
Constable Reynolds eyed himself in the headquarters’ washroom mirror, wishing he looked older. Wishing he had Chloe Judd’s confidence. DI Watts’ criticism of him for not using the authority of the job still rankled. He found Watts off-putting. Watching The Apprentice recently, he had realized why. It was the finger-jabbing. Plus, his height. And probably a bit more besides. And now Watts had given him an order. For the first time since joining the force via its degree apprenticeship scheme, he was wondering if he should have given his university philosophy-psychology degree course a bit longer than six months. When he told his father that he was applying to join, his mild response had been, ‘Are they very short of officers in Birmingham?’
Reynolds smoothed down a bit of wilful hair. He was pleased to be working in the incident room, rather than on some mundane task of the kind he’d anticipated, but, surrounded by confident officers like Jones, he felt wary, out of his depth. Judd was friendly, but she could be a bit challenging when it suited her. He got out his own version of Watts’ instruction and read it again: Go to Molly Lawrence’s office. Get information. Follow up other names suggested. He folded it, slid it back inside his pocket. He had to get this right. He daren’t mess up again. He thought of DI Watts’ words about the authority he carried with him as a member of the force, looked directly at himself in the mirror. Confidence sliding, he checked his pockets for his ID.
Forty minutes later he was heading across thick carpetin
g to a glossy reception counter, a woman sitting there, her head bowed to something he couldn’t see. He reached the desk. She didn’t look up. He waited.
‘Excuse me?’
Her head slowly rose. She made eye contact. ‘Yes?’
‘I’m here to see Stephen Wells.’
Her eyes drifted over him. ‘And you are?’
‘Reynolds.’
‘First name?’
‘Toby.’
‘The only Reynolds on my list for today is a police officer.’
‘That’s me.’
She eyed him, looking unconvinced, waited with studied patience as he searched for, located and produced, his ID. She pointed to a corridor. ‘Down there, second door on the right.’ Reynolds headed for it, feeling her eyes skewering his back.
Reaching the door, he squared his shoulders, took a breath and pounded on it. The sound ricocheted up and down the entire corridor. Hearing a voice from inside, he went in, closed the door, walked to the fifty-ish man sitting there and thrust his ID in his eyeline. ‘Police Constable Reynolds.’ His words hit every hard surface in the room. Wells smiled, waved him to a chair.
‘Non-uniform officer?’
‘Yes, sir. I’m here to ask about an employee of yours, Molly Lawrence.’
‘I assumed so. Would you like me to tell you about Molly or do you prefer to ask me questions?’
‘I’d appreciate your observations. Once I have them, I’ll ask any questions which I consider necessary.’ Reynolds took out his notebook and waited, impressed with his own gravitas.
Wells sat back, looking troubled. ‘Words are rather useless to describe how we’re feeling about what’s happened to Molly and her husband. A young couple with everything ahead of them.’ He looked across at Reynolds. ‘Molly has worked here for five years, possibly a little more. She’s our financial analyst.’
Reynolds frowned in his note-taking. ‘I understood she’s an accountant.’
‘Oh, Molly is much more than that. Insurance is a growth sector and this company is growing with it. If we become aware of a company which might fit our portfolio, Molly’s job is to evaluate it. Her analytical skills and commercial acumen are second to none.’