Trial by Execution

by T. M. E. Walsh

  *

  Outside the Clarkson house, Stefan hovered at Claire’s car, head lowered to peer inside the driver’s side window. ‘Well, the housekeeper was here but Laura confirms she was at a friend’s house when Knox was killed. We’ll check but I believe her.’

  Claire stared at the front of the house. ‘I’m trying to get a feel for what they’re going through. What Knox’s death means for them.’

  ‘A cause for celebration, I should imagine.’

  ‘I’m trying to see just how much he affected their life after the attack.’

  ‘She can’t have children, Claire; how’d you think it’s affecting them?’

  She cast him a sideways glance. ‘They’re broken. I can see that.’ She frowned. ‘I’m not so sure they are being completely honest about why they don’t have much contact with Ffion. The atmosphere turned icy when I mentioned the Headleys, did you notice?’

  Stefan nodded. ‘Let’s see if the feeling’s mutual.’

  CHAPTER 16

  Claire and Stefan pulled through the large gates leading to Raynes Park House, in Aston, bordering the outskirts of Stevenage.

  After they’d parked their cars, they took a few moments to survey the large, new-build house that was flanked either side by a separate annexe and a garage built for four cars. Further out, off to the right, was a stable block and fields stretching as far as the eye could see beyond the house. Stefan puffed out a loud sigh.

  ‘How the other half live.’

  Claire gave a wry smile. ‘It’s still a new-build, don’t get too excited.’

  The sound of a car coming along the country lane at speed startled them both. A brand new Porsche Macan pulled through the gates, coming to a halt just before it hit Claire’s car.

  Her stare was intense as she eyed the man and woman getting out of the vehicle. If it hadn’t been for the striking blue eyes, Claire wouldn’t have recognised Ffion Headley. Unlike Raja, Ffion had a face full of heavy, expertly applied make-up and her scars were barely noticeable. As she drew closer, Claire saw the soft outlines of two diagonal slash marks through Ffion’s face.

  Marking her as victim number two.

  ‘Sorry we weren’t here to greet you,’ Ffion said, extending her hand. ‘Had some business to sort at the school.’

  Claire accepted her hand. ‘Nothing wrong, I hope?’

  ‘Teachers needed to be kept up to date with what was happening,’ Stuart Headley said, coming up beside them. He pushed his rimless glasses further up his nose. ‘We’ve got to think of what impact this mess might have on the kids.’

  ‘It’s true, isn’t it? What the media’s saying?’ Ffion said, cutting in. ‘That his face was almost ripped in half?’

  Claire could hear the joviality in her voice.

  At this close angle, Claire could see the hint of freckles across her nose and cheeks, just visible under her foundation. Ffion cocked her head to one side, eyes on Claire. She hugged her thin cardigan tighter around her slender figure.

  Claire glanced at Stefan.

  ‘I think it’ll be best if we went inside,’ he said.

  ‘Shit,’ Ffion said, a smile pulling at her lips. ‘Hear that, Stu?’ She turned towards him, her strawberry-blonde hair falling messily about her shoulders. ‘It’s true.’ Her face turned back to look at the two detectives in front of her.

  Stuart slipped his arm around his wife’s shoulders and hugged her closer to his muscular frame.

  His brown hair ruffled in the gentle breeze, and Claire noticed his blue eyes perfectly complemented Ffion’s. He smiled at her and Claire could easily see what had first drawn Ffion to him.

  Stuart Headley was as handsome as he was successful.

  He rubbed his hand up and down Ffion’s arm and she cuddled in closer to him, unable to wipe the grin from her face.

  ‘Can we talk inside?’ Stefan said again, eager to get away from the couple’s uncomfortable closeness.

  Ffion’s smile faded just a fraction and her eyes now had a hard edge to them. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Follow me.’

  *

  A large Bullmastiff dog came bounding over to Ffion as she opened the front door. She fussed over him and he wagged his tail.

  Then he saw Claire and Stefan.

  He barked at them, teeth snapping.

  Ffion called him off and he disappeared into another part of the house.

  ‘Sorry,’ Ffion said. ‘He does that to people he doesn’t know.’

  Claire looked at Stefan. ‘Dogs don’t seem to like me today,’ she said.

  Ffion showed them through to the living room, which was modern and clinical. Crisp, clean lines and accents of white and cream ran through the room in the fixtures and fittings of the large, open-plan space. The living area led back to the kitchen with its bright, white countertops and a long breakfast bar with matching stools segregating the two areas.

  Every surface gleamed and didn’t look like it had ever been used.

  ‘Have a seat,’ Ffion said and pointed to the large, white, corner sofa with cream-coloured cushions scattered along it.

  Claire and Stefan took a seat and Claire gave the room the once over. She quickly noticed there were no toys, or anything for that matter, that suggested they had four-year-old twin boys, save for a large family portrait hanging above the fireplace mounted into the wall.

  Two angelic, almost identical, faces stared back at hers. The Headleys had two beautiful children. Bright-blue eyes and wavy, strawberry-blond hair like their mother.

  Ffion followed Claire’s gaze. ‘Do you have children, Chief Inspector?’ When Claire’s attention snapped towards her, frown on her face, Ffion nodded towards the picture. ‘My boys, my everything. Children can help you through so much, even at a young age.’ Her eyes darkened a little. ‘Wouldn’t you agree? They’re stronger than you think. Resilient.’

  Claire’s throat was dry. ‘I wouldn’t know,’ she said at length.

  ‘They don’t know what happened to you, I hope?’ Stefan said, a faint flicker of concern registering on his face.

  ‘Oh, God, no!’ Stuart said. ‘They do know something happened to Mummy’s face, though, something sad. They understand Fi needs love and support more than ever.’ He clasped his wife’s hand then and the two shared a smile between themselves as if they were the only people in the room.

  Claire sank a little inside. She’d shared moments like this with Simon, but this felt different. It felt contrived somehow.

  ‘Coffee?’

  Claire’s eyes flicked back to Stuart’s. He gestured towards the kitchen area. Claire shook her head.

  ‘Well, if you’re not going to go through the tedious motions of hospitality,’ Stuart said, his manner shifting, gaining Claire and Stefan’s full attention, ‘maybe you can tell us… did that bastard suffer?’

  ‘Stu…’ Ffion said, overenunciating her words. ‘You must forgive my husband,’ she said, now looking at Claire again. ‘The last few months have been tough for us. Knowing Knox was going to be released…’

  ‘I can only imagine,’ Claire said.

  ‘We saw the press conference, of course. No one would confirm or deny anything to us yesterday, which was frustrating. We had to find out the good news when the rest of the world did.’ She stepped closer to Claire. ‘Knox’s face was… worse than this?’ She gestured to her own face, miming slash marks up both cheeks.

  Claire gave a curt nod.

  A ghost of a smile flashed across Ffion’s face and she dropped down onto the sofa.

  Stuart came to her side, barely a pause in his step. He hugged her close to him and smiled at her. ‘It’s over, Fi.’

  ‘I’m afraid this is far from over,’ Claire said. Both sets of eyes were on her in an instant, a new seriousness etched on their faces.

  ‘He’s dead,’ Ffion said, a hard edge to her now.

  ‘Raymond Knox may be dead – murdered – but this is far from over.’
/>   ‘We do need to ask you some questions,’ Stefan said, cutting in. ‘You will have gone over this with officers yesterday, but we have to ask these questions again.’ He smiled, an attempt to soften the blow, when he caught the look on their faces.

  ‘I’m sorry to have to ask you this, but can you account for your whereabouts on 31st March, between the hours of five and seven that evening?’

  Stuart shifted in his seat. ‘You still think we had something to do with this?’

  Ffion smiled. ‘I’d say we’re as good as prime suspects, isn’t that right, Inspector?’ she said, cocking her head to one side.

  Claire remained silent, but held her gaze.

  ‘We were here, with the twins,’ Ffion said.

  ‘I trust our good word is adequate,’ Stuart said. ‘To think we could’ve had anything to do with this is absurd.’

  ‘Can anyone confirm this?’ Stefan said.

  Stuart stared at him. ‘As I said, it’s our word. We played with the twins, had dinner, did what normal families do.’

  Claire’s eyebrows rose at his words. She doubted the Headleys were any kind of normal family.

  Eager to ease the tension in the air, Claire sat in a chair opposite the couple, and motioned to the photograph in a silver frame on the coffee table between them.

  ‘Your wedding day,’ she said, nodding to it. ‘How long have you been married?’

  One thing Claire had deduced in the short time she’d been in the presence of the Headleys was that they clearly loved to talk about one subject – themselves. They were most comfortable and open when discussing their seemingly perfect life with their perfect children in their perfect house.

  Ffion’s demeanour visibly changed then, and she leaned in towards her husband, looking at him lovingly.

  ‘Almost fifteen years. I was only nineteen when we met. Stu came to visit me in hospital, and despite how difficult everything was back then, I felt something for this brave man who saw past what had been done to me. Saw past all the media frenzy and everything just felt right.’

  She squeezed his hand.

  A whimsical look came over Stuart’s face then as he gazed at his wife.

  ‘I read about Ffion in the newspapers when it all happened,’ Stuart said. ‘I was captivated by her. We met – I was still training – but I told her I could help her with the physical scars, and maybe one day,’ he said, smiling at her, ‘I could help her with the emotional ones by making her my wife.’

  Ffion’s attention returned to Claire. ‘We were married within six months. It was a miracle that all that happiness was born out of such a horrific ordeal.’

  Claire felt bile rise in her throat.

  ‘What about Knox’s other victims? You didn’t feel you could help the other two with their faces?’

  Stuart remained silent, his face losing some of its initial charm, and Claire could see he was angered by her words. He was simmering underneath all the smarmy charm he was known for.

  Ffion shifted in her chair.

  ‘Why was Ffion different?’ Claire said.

  ‘It’s commendable, what you did,’ Stefan said, glancing at Claire. ‘I think what DCI Winters means to say is, did you have any contact with Raja or Sophie?’ He cleared his throat. ‘Sometimes, when there is more than one victim in a case like this, the victims can become close, share their fears and try to help each other move forward.’

  Claire watched as the couple looked from Stefan to her. She forced a smile and gave a sharp nod.

  Ffion sighed. ‘I tried. Really, I did, but Raja made it clear she didn’t need me in the end and Sophie… well, she just became unstable. She couldn’t even be around many people any more.’

  ‘What happened when you attended Knox’s parole hearing?’ Claire said. ‘I understand you were the only one who went.’

  Ffion bristled. ‘That really upset me.’ She looked Claire hard in the eyes. ‘I can’t understand how someone could be a survivor of something like that and not try to keep their attacker in prison.

  ‘Raja sent a statement to be read out, but it was brief, and Sophie didn’t even bother. It was I who stood up, made my voice heard. I got to look into Knox’s eyes when I spoke of what he did and how it has affected my life.’

  ‘That can’t have been easy,’ Stefan said.

  ‘I wasn’t scared of him. Fifteen years ago that man took so much from me. He left me a scared and broken girl but I made a promise to myself when I met Stuart that no one, not even Raymond Knox, would make me afraid to be me again.’

  She leaned forward and her voice rose a notch. ‘When I sat there, listening to all the reasons why they thought it was safe to release him, I wanted to scream out, ‘How can you believe what you’re saying? That man is dangerous.’ But then Knox stood and spoke without the need for any notes to prompt him. He seemed to speak from the heart.’

  She paused, reflecting. ‘There was even a point where I almost believed what I was hearing.’ Wet eyes then looked between Claire and Stefan. ‘He’d had fifteen years to master the art of deception, and now he was centre stage. Playing to his audience and they lapped it up… That’s how dangerous he was.’

  She began pointing with her finger, anger rising inside her. ‘I saw in his eyes, in the way he looked at me after he’d finished speaking. He was far from sorry. What he did to me, to all three of us, he’d do again.’

  Stuart sat forward, leaning in to gain Claire’s attention. His eyes met hers. ‘Evil like that should never be released.’

  In theory, Claire agreed with that, but reality was harsh and the system just didn’t work the way a lot of people thought it should.

  ‘The law says we can’t keep these people locked up for ever,’ Claire said, but even as the words left her mouth, she felt sick. She was on Ffion’s side in that respect. Many were released when, in all honesty, they should have remained under lock and key.

  Ffion sneered as she sat back in her chair. ‘You don’t really believe that, do you, Chief Inspector?’

  Claire remained silent.

  A long silence passed between them before Stuart got up from the sofa. ‘Are you sure I can’t get us all a drink?’

  ‘I think that’s best, darling,’ Ffion said. Stefan nodded when Stuart looked at him and then disappeared into the kitchen.

  Claire watched Ffion pick at her finely manicured nails.

  ‘How have you coped since Knox?’

  Ffion glanced at her and then smiled. ‘I’ve had Stu, of course, but I very quickly decided that I would try and stop this from happening again. We have a website dedicated to giving advice to women.’

  Her eyes lowered then. ‘Do you know how many victims of rape don’t report it to the police?’ When she was met with silence, she looked to Claire. ‘So many women and young girls are frightened the police won’t be much help. That’s why I set up the website.’

  ‘That’s very commendable, but things are changing with regards to the way police handle allegations of rape, domestic or otherwise.’

  Ffion smiled. ‘With all due respect, Chief Inspector, unless it’s something you’ve been unlucky enough to experience, there’s no one better to understand the victim than a survivor of an attack.’

  Stuart brought in a tray of coffees and biscuits. Stefan shovelled a biscuit into his mouth and shrugged at Claire when she gave him a disapproving look.

  ‘I didn’t know you were qualified,’ Claire said, catching Ffion off guard.

  ‘Qualified?’

  ‘To give therapy through the site.’

  ‘I’m not,’ Ffion said. ‘We have dedicated volunteers and guest speakers who come in and give talks via Skype. We’ve also hosted a get-together.’ She smiled. ‘It was a bit like the WI but fewer cakes and knitting.’ She shared a look with Stuart and he smiled at what was obviously some kind of in-joke.

  ‘It’s about carrying on as normal in some ways,’ she continued, ‘but we still acknowledge
a shared bond between the visitors to the site, even if the bond that joined us is something unthinkable.’

  Ffion sipped her coffee. She eyed Claire over the rim of the cup. ‘I don’t profit from any of it, unless you count the feeling of good and well-being it brings me.’

  ‘I wonder if Raja and Sophie share your sentiments,’ Claire said.

  Ffion paused and took her time returning her coffee cup to the table. ‘Raja stopped speaking to me for a while and I rarely see her nowadays.’ Her face turned serious then. ‘I think her husband stopped her.’

  ‘Why would he do that if being in contact with you was helping her?’

  ‘He always said she didn’t need anything from me. He thought he was all she needed, like he wanted her to be dependent on him and him alone. I guess in the end Raja started to believe that.’

  Claire exchanged a look with Stefan.

  ‘And Sophie?’ he said.

  Ffion looked frustrated by the question. ‘Sophie never stayed in touch. She gave up before she’d even tried to pull herself out of the hell we were all living in.’

  ‘You sound bitter,’ Claire cut in.

  ‘I offered that girl help,’ Ffion said. ‘She threw it back in my face, as did her parents. They said they were all she needed, and look where that’s got her.’ She paused. ‘Still, she’s finally agreed to do a press interview – we all have,’ she said, face beaming. ‘The world will soon know the truth of it all.’

  *

  ‘She’s a pious one,’ Claire said when they were outside by their cars. Stefan shrugged as he turned to face her.

  ‘I don’t know if I’d say pious, but there is a sense of entitlement about her, isn’t there?’

  Claire nodded as her eyes scanned their surroundings again. ‘I know she been through hell but you’re right.’ She paused. ‘I’m not swallowing that lovey-dovey bullshit either. It feels forced to me.’

  Stefan softened then. ‘Maybe that’s what a strong marriage feels and looks like,’ he said, casting his eye on her.

  ‘I’ve been married, Fletch. Trust me on this.’

  ‘Not everyone is like you, though. You’re hardly the expert on a successful marriage.’ He grinned when she aimed a sharp jab at his ribs with her elbow. He deflected it well.