Trial by Execution

by T. M. E. Walsh

  ‘Maybe one punch was enough,’ Claire said.

  ‘DCs reported seeing no one at the hostel with any bruising, and I doubt something like that would’ve gone unnoticed.’

  Claire turned to him. ‘Who said he had to have damaged his hand in the hostel? Who knows why he went into those woods.’

  Stefan thought for a moment. ‘Could be to do with the attack on Knox’s father? Maybe whoever attacked Rupert tried their luck on the man himself, it went wrong and Raymond Knox was harder and faster than he looked?’

  Stefan looked back at Danika then. ‘Could Knox have been incapacitated? Drugged?’

  ‘I couldn’t find any needle marks on the body.’ She paused. ‘I’ll know more from the tox report but it’s not likely.’

  Claire looked at Knox’s face. ‘There are no lacerations to his hands. Not even on his arms. He never shielded himself from the blows rained down on him. Something stopped him fighting back,’ she said, leaning in closer to his pale lips. ‘We’re looking at someone who can exert that kind of fear. They had the ability to stop Knox from going with his natural instincts to fight or flee.’

  Stefan nodded, eyeing Knox’s body. ‘The way he was found would indicate he did neither.’

  ‘And that’s what frightens me most. What kind of fear could someone induce, enough to make a person ignore that natural instinct in us all, the will to fight back?’

  Stefan sighed heavily, folding his arms across his chest. ‘Someone with a whole lot invested in the life and death of Raymond Knox.’

  Danika shrugged. ‘If we’re done here, I need to get him prepped. Rupert Knox is due to formally ID him very early tomorrow morning and I have a load of paperwork to work through.’

  ‘Yes,’ Claire said. ‘Thank you for rearranging this for us, I know how busy you are.’

  Danika shook her head. ‘Don’t worry. I know how important this is, given who he is… was.’

  Stefan gave her a nod and went to leave, pausing in the doorway when Claire didn’t follow.

  She remained with the body, leaning in close.

  Then she straightened, her eyes never leaving Knox’s glassy stare. ‘I hope whoever is responsible has found some kind of peace in themselves.’

  ‘A one-off, you mean?’ Stefan said, the doubt evident in his voice.

  ‘Can anyone live with such rage inside them?’ Danika cut in then.

  Claire’s brow furrowed, an ill feeling creeping inside her, working its way around her gut.

  ‘All I know is this,’ she said at length. ‘Whoever landed those blows with the knife made sure he felt every cut. Same with the face.’ She pointed to the lacerations cut through his cheeks. ‘He knew every ounce of pain imaginable, right until the end, and what that says about who and what we’re dealing with, this particular killer… I don’t mind admitting that it scares me.’

  CHAPTER 12

  The incident room was busy when Claire and Stefan returned. No progress was being made with the CCTV from outside the hostel and Claire called a team meeting before the night team were due to take over. After she’d briefed them about Knox’s PM, she threw the floor open for questions and discussion.

  ‘What’s the other side of the wood?’ Elias said.

  ‘Fields and wasteland to the right of a dense thicket of trees, and surrounding streets to the left. Straight ahead leads to a narrow footpath beside the railway line, about half a mile’s walk,’ Claire said. ‘Matthews, I want you to see what CCTV footage you can find in the surrounding areas. Check with Town Centre Management and Haverbridge City railway station; see if we can’t find any potential witness going in and out of the wood around the time Knox was killed.’

  ‘What if someone went through the wasteland?’ Stefan said. ‘It leads out to the old industrial area.’

  Claire nodded. ‘I’m drafting in officers to conduct a search around there but we already know there are no cameras any more, not since the site was closed and all operations moved to the new industrial site in 2011.’

  ‘What about the shoe prints?’ Elias said.

  ‘Image Enhancement are looking at it as we speak, but I’m not holding much hope for a cleaner image,’ Matthews said. All eyes fell on the photographs of the walking shoes on the board.

  ‘We need to find who owns those,’ Claire said.

  ‘What about the hostel residents?’ Harper said. ‘Bet some of them had a grudge against Knox.’

  ‘We’re still going through all the footage,’ Matthews said. ‘So far none of them has been seen going into the woods since Knox moved in. All of them have been accounted for at the times in question, as per their signing in and out times.’

  ‘Keep checking,’ Claire said. ‘FLOs have been in touch with Knox’s victims but I will be seeing them tomorrow with Fletch after the press conference.’ She paused. ‘Rupert Knox will be going to formally ID his son early tomorrow morning.’ Her eyes crossed the room to meet Harper’s. ‘Where are we with his assault?’

  He shook his head. ‘Nothing further, Guv.’

  ‘Are we thinking it’s connected then?’ Elias cut in.

  ‘I’m not ruling it out but the MO is different. Rupert was badly beaten. Whoever attacked him had the chance to finish him off. They left him alive. That’s significant.’

  ‘Maybe it was a warning?’

  ‘The investigation will run parallel to the murder investigation, but treat them both as separate incidents at the moment.’

  She allocated more tasks to the team, then wrapped up the briefing.

  ‘I know how you all must be feeling, but this matters. Finding Knox’s killer matters. I need everyone on the same page with this. With all the eyes of the media on us, we can’t afford any mistakes. I suggest we all go home and get some rest… we’re going to need it.’

  CHAPTER 13

  2nd April

  It was close to eight-thirty in the morning when, from her office window, Claire saw a people-carrier pull into the station car park. She stood up for a better look and saw a few people get out of the van, go to the boot and start to pull out camera equipment.

  Claire looked at her watch just as DSI Donahue knocked on her office door.

  ‘Press here already?’ she said.

  He nodded.

  ‘So early? They weren’t supposed to be here until midday.’

  Donahue shrugged. ‘Rupert Knox has formally ID’d his son’s body and the press conference is going ahead now,’ he said. He checked his watch. ‘Or within the next thirty minutes, anyway.’

  ‘We haven’t prepped anything yet,’ she said, irritated.

  Claire needed time. She knew deep down that she had to pull off a performance of a lifetime in front of the cameras. A part of her didn’t want this killer caught and she felt ashamed to admit this even to herself.

  ‘I know but-’

  ‘I need to brief the team,’ she cut in.

  ‘Yes, but,’ he said, ‘Coleman’s pushed it forward. He says we’ve had enough time to prepare for it.’

  Claire cast him a look. Donahue felt the same about Grant Coleman, the Chief Constable, as Claire did, but offered little in the way of support.

  ‘Jesus…’ Claire sat at her desk again and Donahue closed her office door behind him. He stared down at her.

  ‘Coleman’s briefed me on this. We need to keep the information precise and to the point in there.’

  Claire looked at him but remained silent.

  ‘We can’t afford any screw-ups, especially not with this investigation. We can do without the IPCC getting involved, too. Rupert Knox might make good his threats to make an official complaint.’

  ‘You have so little faith in me sometimes, Cliff,’ she said. ‘We’re doing our best here, especially considering who our victim is.’

  Donahue nodded. ‘I know. Any more on who might have attacked Rupert Knox?’

  Claire shook her head. ‘No one’s talking. Rupert Knox may as well
be in the same position as his son. No one cares. The feeling I’m getting from Knox’s three victims and their families is to be expected, I guess. Not that it helps us.’

  A sharp knock at Claire’s door startled them both. After a pause, Elias came into the room.

  ‘Sorry, Guv, but Coleman’s ready for you both now.’

  *

  DSI Donahue headed towards the back of the station where they held press conferences. Claire followed close behind him. She stopped and stared at the man waiting for them just outside the door.

  On closer inspection she realised it was Grant Coleman, the chief constable. Tall and broad-shouldered, Coleman carried himself with an air of importance. As he turned to face them, Claire saw his grey eyes take in every detail. He offered them a ghost of a smile.

  ‘Cliff… Claire,’ he said as they approached, tipping his head in acknowledgement. ‘I trust you’ve had the time to read over the statement we’ve prepared?’

  Claire knew that, when she had the statement in front of her in a few minutes’ time, it would be the first time she’d even seen it; not that she was about to admit that.

  Donahue nodded. ‘It seems in order,’ he said. He gestured to Claire. ‘You’ll hand over to DCI Winters rather than myself halfway through, though.’ He paused, gauging Coleman’s body language.

  Coleman’s eyes flicked to Claire’s. He gave her half a smile. ‘Of course.’ He pushed his rimless glasses up higher on his nose.

  ‘We aim to keep any personal feelings out of this,’ he said at length.

  Claire bristled. ‘You directing that at me?’

  Donahue rolled his eyes.

  Coleman’s face turned serious. ‘Raymond Knox was no ordinary murder victim. It would be easy to express the general shared feelings with the wider public...’ He let the sentence hang.

  Claire’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘DCI Winters knows what she’s doing,’ Donahue said, stepping in, drawing Coleman’s attention from Claire. ‘There won’t be any deviation from the script, will there?’

  Claire felt the weight of their eyes on her.

  She could hear the hum of voices from journalists and cameramen coming from inside the room. ‘Stick to the script,’ she said, voice deadpan. ‘Got it.’

  *

  When they entered the room they were met with a series of flashing bulbs and the sound of recorders being switched on and paperwork being ruffled in anticipation. The room was filled with about thirty people – representatives of both local and national media outlets.

  A few members of Claire’s team were sitting on the sidelines, watching with anticipation. Stefan sat beside Elias, nerves kicking in. Everyone was on edge.

  Claire followed Donahue and Coleman towards the long table that was situated at the front of the room, a line of microphones anchored to it, with the Hertfordshire Police crest hung as a backdrop.

  Claire’s eyes found Stefan’s and he gave her a sympathetic look. So far, the gathered journalists were behaving themselves. Everyone was respecting the boundaries put in place. Stefan only hoped the questions that would inevitably come wouldn’t be too hard to deflect.

  There were only ever going to be a limited number of facts the police would give on a case like this.

  The bare essentials.

  Claire walked past her team, even had a look of encouragement from Elias, which surprised her but also meant she knew he was silently thanking the powers that be that he wasn’t in her shoes right now.

  After taking a seat behind the table next to Coleman, an expectant silence settled in the room. Coleman cleared his throat and Claire could have sworn she saw his hands shake a little as he spread out the typed statement on the tabletop in front of him.

  After he made his introductions, he paused as a series of cameras went off almost in perfect unison, then continued.

  ‘I would like to read a statement to you first and then you’ll have the opportunity to ask some questions.’ He stopped to sip at the water in the glass beside him. Claire wished he’d stop drawing the whole thing out.

  ‘We have now formally identified the murder victim in Haverbridge wood on the evening of 31st March as Raymond Paul Knox, age thirty-seven, who was residing at Haverbridge hostel, an approved premises in James Castle Road.’

  This caused a murmur of voices, and an exchange of looks among the gathered, that everyone could relate to at least on some level.

  Coleman waited until the room settled again.

  ‘Raymond had been newly released on licence after serving a fifteen-year prison sentence at HMP Belmarsh for the brutal rape and assault of three teenagers in 2000. He had been settled into an approved premises with a view of integrating him back into society.

  ‘We are currently speaking to the other residents at the hostel, and the team in charge of monitoring Raymond, to give us a detailed picture of how he had been settling into life on the outside and to assist us in our investigation.’

  Coleman looked up and around the room as he read the statement. He was well rehearsed and kept his voice even, displaying no emotion to convey his feelings either way as he gave the details. Claire clocked a few people shaking their heads as they noted points down in their notepads, exchanging glances with each other, eyebrows raised.

  ‘The picture we currently have,’ Coleman continued, ‘is that Raymond Knox was eager to put his past life behind him and move on, further paying his debt to society.’

  This drew a few raised whispers, echoing disgust among the majority of the gathered throng, but Claire had expected this.

  Hell, it was passing through her mind as well.

  Coleman lowered his eyes to the statement, and paused a beat before continuing.

  ‘His mother is terminally ill and has a very short life expectancy. It was this news that helped Raymond to make the commitment to changing his life. He wanted to convey his deep remorse for the hurt and damage he had done both physically and mentally to the victims and their families.

  ‘He has been murdered in what we can only describe as a brutal and savage attack as he walked in Haverbridge wood.’

  Voices were raised once again and Claire couldn’t make out what anyone was saying, but judging by the looks on their faces, she could guess.

  Coleman sat up straight in his seat, his voice raised a little when he spoke, as he tried to assert his authority over the gathered.

  ‘The investigation into this crime is a top priority for Hertfordshire Constabulary,’ he said, his eyes sweeping the room, taking in every face before him.

  ‘Detectives, dog handlers, uniformed officers, search teams and other resources have been dedicated to the investigation. I firmly believe that the answer will come from the people of Haverbridge and from within the wider Hertfordshire community.

  ‘We are working hard to gather all forensic evidence from the scene that will likely open up further lines of enquiry. At this point, what we really need is to hear from anyone in the community who has any suspicions as to who is behind this… this crime.’

  Claire cast a sideways glance at Coleman.

  He had stumbled momentarily as he spoke that line. She glanced at the statement he was reading from. She saw that the word terrible next to crime had a line drawn through it in biro. Clearly they didn’t want to appear too much at odds with the public and their feelings about what had been dished out to Knox.

  Some small do-gooder minority might say terrible crime, but the rest? Not as clear-cut.

  Coleman felt Claire’s gaze and made a show of shuffling the papers in front of him. ‘I will now hand over to DCI Winters, after which we will be open to any questions.’

  Claire felt all attention in the room shift towards her, felt the glare of the cameras on her like the lenses were burning into her skin.

  She raised her head, felt the tension between her and Coleman, and practically tasted the anxiety radiating from Donahue.

  Claire knew the s
core. This time she would be sure to toe the line.

  ‘I’m DCI Claire Winters, the SIO on this investigation.’ She glanced down at her own set of notes. Stick to the script…

  ‘Help from the community is integral to us finding whoever committed this crime…’

  Claire felt the words stick in her throat.

  She pushed the pre-prepared notes aside.

  Fuck the script.

  ‘I know how many of you might be feeling right now,’ she said, feeling the air shift between herself and Coleman in that instant.

  He gave her a sideways look, bit his lip and made a fist with his hands.

  ‘I know many of you will be sitting at home watching this on the news, or reading about this in the newspapers, thinking Raymond Knox got what he deserved.’ Claire saw a few heads nod in agreement.

  She made eye contact with each one of them.

  ‘I could quite easily be sitting on the same side of the fence as you, but I didn’t become a police officer to pick and choose who I helped and decide who deserved what and why.’ She leaned over the table. ‘The crimes Raymond Knox committed were some of the worst we have seen in recent history, and something I hope never to see again. Equally, if I were a family member or friend of the women he harmed, I wouldn’t be shedding too many tears for Raymond Knox right now.

  ‘But here are the facts we sometimes freely forget. Raymond Knox has a family. A mother, a father, wider family members, who knew Knox before his crimes. Don’t they deserve some kind of closure, some kind of peace?

  ‘Someone out there knows what happened to Raymond Knox. They have a family, friends. Maybe the person you’re watching this with on the television right now knows something.’

  Claire scanned the room, then glanced back at the notes she had abandoned.

  ‘I need everyone in Haverbridge and the wider community to think very hard… Did anyone come home in a distressed state, any blood on them or their clothes? It could be anyone, even a loved one. Do you know anyone who has shown sudden behavioural changes? Maybe they’ve disposed of clothing suddenly, something they wouldn’t normally throw out? Can you think of anything that just doesn’t feel right, out of character, within the last day or so?’