by Rob Sinclair
The judge soon sent the two barristers back to their benches and announced the decision to the court.
‘We will hear the defence’s witness, who must be heard by video-link, for reasons that will soon become apparent. The court will recess for thirty minutes to prepare.’
* * *
Thirty and a half minutes later, Dani was back in the same seat in the public gallery and the court was soon full once more, albeit with one noticeable addition. A large TV screen on a stand right in front of the witness box.
Dani already had a sickly feeling as to where this could be going. The judge opened the session and handed over to O’Hare. A clerk headed over to the TV and seconds later the screen flickered to life and Dani was left staring at a live link of a painfully familiar-looking interview room.
Seated in the middle of the room was her brother.
Her brother, who seemed to be staring straight at her. Could he actually see her? She’d never live-linked in court herself, but she presumed the witness could see the court just as clearly as the court could see the witness. But could Ben make out Dani?
O’Hare completed the formalities, introducing Ben, his background, and some other crap Dani barely heard because she was too shocked and too angry to properly listen. All she could do was to stare at him. Despite being in a drab room and in his prison garb, he looked confident and in control and Dani was sure he even had a snide grin on his resting face.
‘Mr Stephens,’ O’Hare said, ‘we’re particularly interested in the time you spent sharing a cell with the defendant. Is it true that you, too, like the defendant, were a patient of Dr Helen Collins?’
‘Correct.’
Ben went on to explain his own relationship with Collins. How she’d been part of his defence team during his murder trial, attesting, as she had for Curtis, that Ben had acted with diminished responsibility when he’d killed. The jury hadn’t bought it in his case.
‘But you didn’t carry on seeing Collins, in a professional capacity, after your trial concluded?’ O’Hare asked.
‘No,’ Ben said.
‘But you were aware that the defendant did?’
‘Yes. Damian…’ Ben sighed. ‘He can be just as normal as anyone else. In fact, most of the time he was. We chatted together – just chatted like anyone else would – so yeah, we talked about Collins. It’s not like we get to do much in prison, is it? So him heading off to talk to his shrink was… a thing. Something.’
He looked a little embarrassed by his own lack of eloquence. He never used to speak like that. Had prison worn him down that much or was it all part of the Ben Stephens show?
‘And how would you describe the defendant following these sessions?’ O’Hare said. ‘By that I mean, did his character, his manner, usually change from when he left to see Dr Collins, to when he returned to his cell?’
Ben nodded. ‘Sometimes, yes.’ He sighed again. ‘You have to remember – and this is me talking from an uneducated standpoint – that Damian was pretty messed up. I mean, I said you could have a normal conversation with him, but it wasn’t always like that. There were times when he completely zoned out. Times when he mumbled away to himself. Argued to himself, and I know there were times when he was talking to other people in his head. Like, actually talking out loud, but to people who weren’t in the room.’
‘Real people? As in people he knew, like family members?’
‘I really don’t know. But coming back to your question, Damian definitely changed.’
‘Changed how?’
Ben regurgitated what Dani took to be a well-rehearsed spiel. He’d made similar comments to her before, when she was actively investigating Curtis and trying to track him down to prevent him from killing again. Ben had claimed that a new voice in Curtis’s head had taken hold. A female voice, who Curtis was battling with and trying his best to eliminate from his mind. Of course there were already statements in the police files related to all of this. So why was Ben here? Virtually, at least. O’Hare must have something new, a revelation that she intended to use as one last throw of the dice.
‘And this voice,’ O’Hare said, ‘did she have a name?’
Ben shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea. The conversations he had with whatever or whoever he heard weren’t like that, and it wasn’t as though I felt I could ask. Honestly? I was scared.’ Though he didn’t seem scared at all as he retold the story. ‘But I definitely noticed him becoming more and more agitated following his sessions with Dr Collins.’
Dani clenched her teeth and her fists as she waited for the revelation she was sure would come.
‘More agitated, how?’ O’Hare asked.
‘There was one time in particular, and I do have a record of the date, when he came back to the cell… to put it mildly, he was a gibbering mess. He was begging, begging me, to help him. He kept on saying things like, why is she doing this to me, and, I can’t do what she’s asking. Then he’d scream at the top of his voice, she’s put her inside me. Get her out!’
A strange silence fell over the courtroom, as if no one knew how to take Ben’s theatrical performance. Dani’s eyes flicked to Barker, who was slowly shaking his head – disgust? – but he hadn’t jumped up to protest at Ben’s accusatory, yet so far baseless, claims.
‘You said you remember the date of one particular episode?’ O’Hare asked.
‘Of course. Not one particular episode, but the episode. Eighth of April, last year.’
Barker was now deep in conversation with his assistant. What were they saying?
‘And why specifically do you recall this date?’
‘My understanding is that it was the anniversary of the car crash that saw Curtis put in prison in the first place. When he came back from his session with Collins that day he was ranting like a lunatic. She wants me to kill them, she wants me to kill them. Things like that, over and over. He got… not physical with me, but he was aggressive and out of control. It felt like it would only take a spark for him to snap completely and tear me to pieces.’
‘What happened to calm him? Did he indeed calm down?’
‘Obviously when someone goes nuts like that, it doesn’t go unnoticed. People in the other cells must have thought he was murdering me, or murdering someone, at least. There was shouting, banging everywhere. Eventually two guards had to come in and restrain him, which wasn’t easy, to say the least. Eventually they dragged him out of the cell still kicking and screaming. I didn’t see him for two days after that. When he came back it was like nothing had happened.’
‘Did you ask him about that episode?’
Ben looked put out by the question. ‘Of course I didn’t. I couldn’t risk a repeat, could I? Calm Damian was always better, for me, than the alternative.’
‘Do you believe, based on these experiences, that the defendant, when he said, she wants me to kill them, was referring to Dr Collins?’
‘Yes, I b—’
‘Objection!’ Barker shouted, rising to his feet. ‘The question is intrusively leading.’
‘Sustained,’ the judge said.
‘Sorry, Your Honour,’ O’Hare said. Though she didn’t look sorry at all. The question didn’t stand, and nor did Ben’s interrupted answer, but the jury had still heard it. ‘I’ll rephrase the question. When the defendant uttered phrases such as she wants me to kill them, who did you believe he was referring to when he said she.’
‘Objection, the witness is not a medically trained professional able to give such an opinion.’
‘He’s more than entitled to give an opinion,’ O’Hare said, ‘and no reference was made to it being an expert opinion.’
‘The witness may answer,’ the judge said.
‘I thought he was referring to Dr Helen Collins,’ Ben said to murmurs around the courtroom.
‘No more questions,’ O’Hare said, ‘but before I pass over to my learned friend, I’d like to point out for the record, that we’ve looked specifically into the witness’s account of these events, which
took place on the eighth of April last year. It is correct that the defendant spent time with Dr Helen Collins that morning. From just after nine a.m. to almost twelve p.m., which I note, based on our review of data, was the third longest session she ever held with him at Long Lartin. Also, the two guards in question that day were Hamza Khan and Graham Molten. Unfortunately, Molten passed earlier this year from a heart attack, but we do have his written record of Damian Curtis’s outburst from that day. Guards are required to file such reports whenever there is a breach of the peace of this nature. We also have a sworn statement from Khan confirming his recollection of events from that day, together with his assertion that he too heard the defendant calling out, she wants me to kill them.’
O’Hare moved forwards and handed a piece of paper first to the judge, and then to Barker who took it and almost immediately handed it to his assistant.
‘Are you finished with the witness?’ the judge asked after taking a few seconds to read the paper in his hand.
‘Yes, Your Honour.’
‘Does the prosecution wish to ask any questions?’
Barker leaned in to his assistant who was rabbiting away in his ear, pointing to the statement in his hand and shrugging and other such like confused gestures.
‘Your Honour, we have no questions,’ Barker said. He sounded dejected.
‘Then the witness is excused,’ the judge said.
A clerk wandered over to the TV. A split second before the screen went blank, Dani was sure Ben caught her eye and smirked.
Chapter 27
Minutes later, the judge adjourned the session. Closing statements would be given when they reconvened. O’Hare had dropped her final and most explosive bombshell, and Dani was livid. New evidence that had come to light? No, O’Hare had played everyone with that. So why had Barker, yet again, pretty much let her get away with it?
Just as she had done numerous times before, Dani made a point of intercepting Barker outside the courtroom to try and figure out exactly that.
‘Why are you letting them do this?’ she asked, not holding back on her clear agitation.
Barker huffed and rolled his eyes like Dani was nothing but an unrepentant and troublesome teen.
‘I’m not letting anyone do anything,’ Barker said. ‘But even I have to be cognisant of the fact that sometimes the weight of evidence swings against us. I have to say, DI Stephens, I find it most worrying that the defence team have time and time again found a way to pour doubt on Collins’s role here. Her death noted, I’m beginning to wonder why the police haven’t more fully investigated her role, particularly as not having done so is harming this trial.’
‘Are you serious? Collins didn’t do it! Ben’s evidence was a complete fabrication.’
A raised eyebrow now, in Barker’s continued show of indignant nonchalance. ‘Fabrication? A fabrication that involved approved contemporaneous records of a now deceased prison guard? Plus a sworn statement from another. Are you saying they’re all involved in a conspiracy?’
Was she saying that?
‘I don’t know about them, but I do know Ben is lying. I know him. Even if Curtis did say… whatever it was. She wants me to kill them. So what? Ben could have made him say that. He wouldn’t exactly create a voice in Curtis’s head called Ben Stephens now, would he? It’s no more likely that it was Collins than Ben—’
‘I’m sorry, but I really don’t see your point of view. Taking your heart out of this situation – which I appreciate is really difficult for you to do, for reasons I sympathise with greatly – which scenario do you think is more believable?’
Dani was stumped by that.
Faced with the evidence, and the testimonies of the guards, why wasn’t she even willing to entertain the notion that maybe she had got it wrong? Was she so desperate for Ben to be punished that she’d let it cloud her judgement?
‘But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong,’ was all she could come back with.
‘No, perhaps not. But unfortunately in a trial I can only work with what I have. Please, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure I’m ready for this.’
He turned and walked off.
* * *
‘Aren’t you going to tell me what happened?’ Easton asked.
The car in front swung into her lane without warning and Dani slammed on the brakes. The back tyres skidded on the slushy surface and Dani fought for control.
‘Fucking idiot!’ she screamed, thumping the horn.
‘You might want to calm it a bit,’ Easton said, not at all friendly.
Dani glanced to him and saw the unimpressed look on his face. She didn’t bother to respond.
‘I get the trial is hard for you,’ Easton said. ‘But you’re best just trying to forget about it. You can’t influence the outcome now. Let it run its course, and do what you need to do on your active cases.’
Let it run its course? Let Ben smear a dead woman who did nothing wrong, just so he can then play the whole situation to his own advantage? How could she possibly sit by and let that run its course?
Though she did get Easton’s point, to a degree. What she really needed to do was to push Ben out of her mind, concentrate on Clara Dunne and Jane Doe’s murders. She’d felt in the zone earlier during the team briefing, now she couldn’t have been further from the zone if she tried.
They travelled on in silence for a couple of minutes and Dani’s tension eased, if only a little.
‘I was doing some reading over the weekend,’ Easton said, his change of subject welcome and Dani really did try to push away any further thoughts of Ben.
‘Your talents never cease to amaze me,’ she said.
‘Ha bloody ha, very funny. It was nice to have some peace and quiet and a few moments to myself, to be honest. Anyway, I was reading up on vampires.’
‘Twilight? I bet you read them all, didn’t you?’
‘Wow, Dani, your inner comedy is something else today. No, not Twilight. Want to know what I found?’
‘Knock me out,’
‘So, what we think we know as vampires, or Strigoi in Romanian, weren’t these fanged things with blood dripping from their mouths, living in the dark, blah blah. They were basically undead corpses that come about when someone dies in sin – or for some other reason the soul doesn’t leave the body in death.’
‘OK?’
‘Did you know people used to black out mirrors in the homes of dead people, because they were scared that if the soul, when it left its body, saw its reflection, it would become trapped? They also smeared garlic on doors and windows to stop vampires entering. It’s amazing how many of the tropes we know are centuries old now, but things that people really did do to ward off these spirits.’
‘There’s truth in every legend, as they say.’
‘And babies were particularly vulnerable to being converted, at least until they were christened.’
‘Ah, it makes sense now. So this was just a way for the church to control its people? Scare stories to make sure everyone went to pray, everyone was christened, lived sin free, etc., etc. And made their donations every Sunday, of course.’
‘So cynical.’
Dani huffed.
‘But once you’re a Strigoi, you’re immortal,’ Easton said. ‘A walking corpse, roaming the earth, not just killing people but converting others too.’
‘So they’re more like zombies then,’ Dani said.
Easton seemed to ponder that one for a few moments, as though it was a really deep and meaningful point. ‘Maybe. Except they don’t even need to bite you. A simple touch or look is enough to turn you. And the whole stake-through-the-heart thing? That was real. I read up about this spate of child killings in one area of Romania a few hundred years ago, or maybe it was disappearances, but anyway, the locals naturally blamed vampires for it all…’
Dani could almost hear Brigitta telling the story now, and for the first time felt a wave of paranoia.
‘…they began to dig up graves. To make sure the
corpses were really dead, they drove stakes into the hearts. Fear spread and people all over started doing this. The problem got so big that the Pope had to declare it a crime to exhume bodies.’
Dani was silent now as her brain rumbled with strange thoughts.
‘But do you know the freakiest part?’ Easton asked.
‘I’m sure you’re going to tell me.’
‘I am. Modern-day historians are generally accepting that a lot of these things – stories of vampires, ghouls, zombies – all derived from the same issue. Know what?’
‘No idea.’
‘Premature burial.’ He let that one hang. ‘Think about it. Four hundred years ago it’s not as if everyone had a doctor on their doorstep to properly confirm death. Even today, as police officers we’re not technically allowed to do it, we have to have a doctor formally confirm death at every scene, even if it seems bloody obvious. Back in the olden days… well, they got it wrong. Surprisingly often. Just imagine, poor old Grandad is laid out in his coffin in his home, candles all around him, family dressed in black praying and in mourning, and suddenly he lurches up. Talk about being freaked out.’
Easton shivered theatrically.
‘One of my worst fears, being buried alive,’ he said.
‘One of?’
‘Don’t get me started.’
Dani laughed, and although the conversation trailed off from there, at least Easton’s light-hearted talk about Strigoi and vampires had left Dani feeling a little more focused again, even if she did remain on edge. Which wasn’t helped by the snow-covered and slushed-up roads that were jam-packed the whole of the journey to Walsall.
When they finally arrived at their destination, Dani found a parking spot on the road a few doors down from Liam Dunne’s home, which was on a tightly packed street with modest terraces either side and cars crammed bumper to bumper on both sides of the narrow road. The homes had small front yards, too small for cars to park on, which were generally paved or with tiny and plain-looking gardens. All in all a very similar set-up to the street, and the house, where Clara Dunne’s body had been found.