by Neil White
They were heading along the landing when Gina appeared. Sam looked at Gina, and then back to Joe, his eyes wide with surprise.
‘Gina’s worked here for a year,’ Joe said.
‘Hello, Sam,’ she said.
‘You were there for us when Ellie was murdered,’ Sam said. ‘You inspired me to join the police, and now you do this?’
‘What is “this”?’
‘Helping crooks.’
‘Helping people.’
‘Did you think that way when you were on the job?’
‘No, not really.’
‘So were you right then, or right now?’
‘I see the other side now, that’s all. Things aren’t always clear-cut.’
Joe coughed to interrupt. ‘What do you want, Sam? To find out more about Ronnie Bagley?’
Sam’s jaw clenched.
‘I think we should speak privately,’ Sam said, glancing at Gina, as if to say that it was something best kept between them.
Gina put her hand on Sam’s arm. ‘It’s good to see you again, Sam. I’ll leave you two to it.’
Both men stayed silent until she was gone, and then they went into Joe’s office where he said, ‘You’re on police time now, so it must be something to do with the job. Are you here to milk me for information again?’
Sam pushed his glasses back up his nose. ‘I’m not here for an argument, Joe. If you’re still angry, fine, enjoy your bad mood. You play the game more than I do, because my job is to find things out, to get to the truth, whereas yours is just to try to weasel out of it. That’s what lawyers do, isn’t it, help people weasel out of things? So keep your moral high horse to yourself, Joe, because what I did was nothing compared to things your clients do. But you don’t judge, do you, unless it’s me?’
‘So you’ve come to justify yourself?’ Joe said, sitting down. ‘Well, you’ve done it. Goodbye.’
The brothers stared at each other. Sam still standing, Joe with his arms on his desk.
A few seconds passed before Sam said, ‘I’m here about Ronnie Bagley.’
‘Fuck off, Sam. I’m not going to tell you about my client.’
‘It’s not about the case,’ Sam said, his voice rising. ‘It’s about Ruby.’
Joe paused at that. ‘Ruby? What about her?’
‘Tell me about Ronnie Bagley first.’
‘Why is Ronnie more important?’
‘I’m worried he’s a threat to Ruby.’
‘Ronnie? What do you mean, a threat?’
‘Ruby was followed. Yesterday.’
Joe didn’t like the clench to Sam’s jaw. ‘Followed? Where?’
‘Down the path.’
Joe went to rub his brow, but then pulled his hand away, aware of his bruises. ‘What, where Ellie…?’
Sam nodded.
Joe looked down at the desk. It all came back to him in a rush of images: Ellie turning into the path, distracted by her headphones, the hooded man following.
When he looked up again, Joe said, ‘Did Ruby know who was following her?’
‘No. She didn’t get a good view, just saw some movement in the trees, but it was enough to frighten her. She said it was as if the person was trying to keep up with her. She didn’t say anything at first, because she knew what Mum would say, but she was being unusually quiet, so Mum got it out of her eventually.’
‘So what do we do?’
‘I’m going to have a look at some logs from the last few weeks, just to see if there are any reports in the area of a strange man hanging around. But I’m worried about Ronnie Bagley.’
‘But if Ruby didn’t get a good view, you won’t prove that he was the person in the trees.’
‘Think like a copper, not a lawyer,’ Sam said. ‘If we know who the person might be, I can make his life difficult. If it is Ronnie, we’ll try to get his bail revoked.’
‘Why do you think it’s Ronnie?’
Sam let out a long breath. ‘So I give up everything and you protect him?’
‘No, it’s not like that.’
‘If I tell you, if it comes to nothing, it doesn’t go beyond this room. If we lift Ronnie and you use this in the case somehow, we’re finished.’
‘We’re brothers,’ Joe said, ‘and if this is about Ruby, nothing else matters.’
Sam stayed silent for a few moments, and then said, ‘There is something you don’t know. It hasn’t been made public yet, but the press will latch on to it soon. There are enough of them hanging around the station.’
‘Go on.’
‘There are girls going missing. Five of them now. One went missing the other night. There is a link, and that is they all have parents connected to the Ben Grant case. A juror’s daughter. A barrister’s daughter. CSI. A detective. All these missing girls.’
Joe was confused. ‘What, the Ben Grant you arrested? Child killer?’
Sam nodded. ‘Your client’s dead girlfriend, Carrie, was Ben Grant’s most frequent visitor.’
‘The girlfriend Terry Day says is still alive.’
‘I’m not here for that argument.’
‘Okay, I understand, but why haven’t you gone public?’
‘Because we don’t want whoever is behind it to know we’ve spotted it. And Ronnie is involved.’
‘How?’
‘The only other link I’ve found between the missing girls is an internet profile that was used by Ronnie Bagley to groom them.’
‘Ronnie, a groomer?’ Joe was surprised. ‘Groomers go after kids. I didn’t think Ronnie was into that.’
‘Tastes change,’ Sam said, ‘because it’s all coming back to Ronnie. Ruby says that she was followed, and who has a bigger link to Ben Grant’s case than me? I was the one who arrested him.’
Joe felt that instant headiness of fear. The sudden rush of his heartbeat, the fast turn of his stomach. ‘Okay, if we’re sharing, I just found something out about him. At Mahones, we called him Haircut Ronnie.’
Sam paled. He sat down on a chair opposite. ‘Haircut? What do you mean?
‘Ronnie Bagley has got a hair thing. Used to snip hair from students and got caught. How don’t you know this?’
Sam turned away, his hand on his head.
‘Sam, what’s wrong?’
‘I went to see Ben Grant yesterday. He talked about how he killed his sister because of some hair fetish he had, but when we checked the records it turns out he had no sister.’ Sam pulled out his phone. He dialled Evans. When she answered, he said, ‘I need to go see Ben Grant again.’ When he explained what he knew, it took only seconds to get her approval.
‘I’ve got to go,’ Sam said. On his way out of the room, he said, ‘Mum’s worried. Think about going to see her.’ And then he was gone.
As his footsteps receded along the corridor, the silence around Joe seemed heavy. He thought again about the man who had followed Ellie all those years ago. And now Ruby.
The door opened slowly and Gina put her head into the room.
‘Everything all right?’ she said.
‘No,’ Joe said. ‘Not all right at all.’
Fifty-Four
As they were escorted along the prison corridor, Charlotte said, ‘So do you think Grant will have anything new to say to you today?’
‘He enjoyed yesterday,’ Sam said, cleaning his glasses with a tissue. ‘He’ll want to see the effect.’
‘Are you sure this is a good idea? You seem wound up. He might get to you.’
‘He lied to me yesterday. His story seemed to be nonsense, but now I’m wondering if there was more to it. Have you met Grant before?’
‘No, and I’m curious.’
‘He’ll enjoy that,’ Sam said. ‘He loves the attention. Yesterday was the first time I’d spoken to him since I arrested him, and he was just like I remember. He is like all of a man’s wicked side expanded to fill the whole. The thing is, he knows that, and I think it’s the part about himself that he likes the most.’
The door was unlock
ed in front of them and they were shown into the room. Ben Grant was already there, tapping the table with his fingernails, fast and impatient. When he looked up, his eyes focused on Charlotte straight away.
He sat back, his eyes looking her up and down, deliberate, to make sure she saw him. ‘I didn’t expect you to bring a friend.’
‘This is DC Glover,’ Sam said. ‘We’re working together today.’
‘You must have a first name though,’ Grant said, not looking away from Charlotte.
She shook her head. ‘Detective will do.’
Grant curled his lip. ‘I’ll find out,’ he said, and then, ‘Too old for me, anyway.’
‘And always out of reach,’ she said.
Charlotte was tough and confident, although Sam noticed that she pulled her jacket tighter as she sat down, so Grant couldn’t look at her chest. Grant must have spotted it, because he tilted his head and said, ‘Don’t be like that, Detective.’ He looked each way theatrically, as if he was checking that they couldn’t be heard, and whispered, ‘I’ll be using you tonight, if you know what I mean. I could have some fun with you, in here,’ and he tapped the side of his head with his finger.
‘All right, Grant,’ Sam said, his voice showing his impatience. ‘Pack it in.’
‘Oh, but why?’ he said, his hand over his mouth, feigning shock. ‘Isn’t everything better in the mind, where you can live out your fantasies without having to put up with all that contact, that need for affection, wanting to be held like a panting puppy? Tell me, Mr Parker, did you mention me to your wife?’ When Sam didn’t respond, he winked. ‘I reckon not, because that would be like giving in to me, taking your work home. So you just let her sit there, staring at the television, and you didn’t want to go near her? You made a mistake.’
Sam opened his notebook as a way of distracting him, but then Grant said, ‘What about your sister? Little Ruby?’
Sam tensed but kept his focus on the page.
‘Is she still safe? I presume so, or else you wouldn’t be here. You’d be grieving again, except then you’d be all out of sisters, and your mother, well, she’s too old to try for another little sister for you.’ Grant tried to catch Sam’s eye, dipping his head right down. ‘Or would that be for me?’
Sam felt the blood rush to his cheeks, his fists clenched on the page. The room seemed to contract, only Grant in focus, Sam’s chest tightening. All he could think of then was Grant, of how he would feel as he went to the floor, Grant’s blood wet on his knuckles. The only thing stopping him from leaping over the desk was the knowledge, just nudging him, that it was exactly what Grant wanted.
A soft hand went around his forearm. Sam looked over. It was Charlotte. She gave a slight shake of the head. Don’t let him get to you.
Charlotte let go of Sam and said, ‘All right, you’ve got our attention. Now talk to us.’
Grant smirked and said, ‘So why do you want to speak to me again?’
‘I want to know why you lied to me yesterday,’ Sam said.
Grant’s eyes stayed on Charlotte. Sam didn’t know if he was doing it because she turned him on, or whether he was just trying to make her uncomfortable.
Sam banged on the table. ‘This way, Grant,’ and he pointed towards himself. ‘Talk to me.’
Grant sat back and folded his arms. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘You told me yesterday how you killed your sister,’ Sam said. ‘I hope you got off on it. Because I didn’t. My inspector didn’t either. You never had a sister. So forgive us if we don’t waste our time on that. We are a little bit busy right now. I’m sure you’ll understand. Like you said yesterday, you’ve got all the time in the world. Ours is a little more precious.’
Grant laughed. ‘I told you, all you needed to know was in what I said to you yesterday, but seeing as you’re too stupid to work it out, I feel like I wasted my time.’
Sam bowed his head to him. ‘You’ll have to forgive me, but I don’t have the intellect that you do.’
‘Don’t be sarcastic,’ Grant said.
‘Isn’t that why you want us here?’ Sam said. ‘To admire you? So go on, tell me what I’m missing.’
Grant stayed silent.
‘All this about my sister,’ Sam continued. ‘Not just my poor dead sister, but the sister I still have. That’s just you telling me that you know about me, which can’t be too hard, can it? It’s an open world now, information available at the click of a mouse. So you can use a computer.’ Sam started a slow handclap. ‘I’m impressed. But what else is there, Grant? What am I missing?’
Grant’s cheeks flushed but still he stayed silent.
Sam looked to Charlotte, who gave a small shrug. They both stood up. ‘See you around, Grant,’ Sam said, and then turned as if to go, before he stopped. ‘No, sorry, I won’t, will I, because you’re in here, and I’m not.’
‘I’m out there with you,’ Grant said, his voice low and cold. ‘Just you remember that.’
‘How are you with me?’ Sam said. ‘Because you try to get in my head?’ He scoffed. ‘Bullshit.’
‘Do you know what the ultimate power trip is?’ Grant said.
‘Go on, enlighten me.’
‘Sit down again and we’ll talk.’
Sam paused for a moment, and then sat down, Charlotte alongside him. ‘Our patience is wearing thin.’
They both considered Grant, who glared back at them. Sam had rattled him.
‘Have you ever been betrayed?’ Grant said. ‘Betrayal makes people lash out. Perhaps it affected how I spoke to you, what I said.’
‘Who’s betrayed you?’ Sam said.
‘Killing isn’t what you think, you know,’ Grant said.
‘What’s this got to do with betrayal?’
‘Everything to do with it. So tell me, how do you think killing feels?’
‘How do you know I think about it at all?’
‘Because you do. Everyone does. You’d like to kill me right now, I can tell. It’s only what you would call human decency that stops you. But you wouldn’t enjoy it.’
‘Why not?’ Sam said. ‘I can’t help but think that I’d enjoy your suffering.’
‘No, you wouldn’t, because it’s all in the planning and the memory. It’s the anticipation that gives you the tingle, the excitement of what’s going to happen, but when it actually happens, you would be too much in the moment. You can’t relish it, because the adrenalin floods in, and so it’s like streams of images rushing at you, almost as if it’s happening to someone else. No, it’s the anticipation, and then the reliving. The actual killing is just a means to an end, a realisation.’
‘So what’s the ultimate power trip?’
‘Letting someone enjoy it with you.’
Sam flinched. The night of Grant’s arrest flooded back again. Grant much younger, Sam more raw.
Grant smiled. ‘You always knew that,’ he said to Sam. ‘Right from when you found me, leaving my last little parcel. You’ve always known that there was someone else there, hiding in the bushes.’
‘No, that isn’t right,’ Sam said.
‘Isn’t it? I remember how you looked at me. You were scared, your little torch trembling in your hand, but still you looked when you heard something. Your torch twitched that way, but then you remembered me and shone it back. What had you heard? The bushes rustling? Footsteps? Did you put it down to a bird flying off, or was it just the wind, your mind working too quickly, making moving shapes out of night shadows?’ Grant started to cackle. ‘You never mentioned it, did you? Like a scared little boy. I remember the trial. Do you remember when you were asked whether I was alone? Do you remember your answer?’
Sam swallowed. ‘Of course I remember my answer, because it was the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. There was no one else there. I didn’t see anyone. There was no proof of anyone.’
‘Proof? Demanding proof is what the guilty say, you know that, because the innocent protest it. So you only go on proof, police
man? You don’t rely on hunches or gut instincts, or whatever else you say makes you so fucking special?’ Grant tapped his head again. ‘But in here, it’s not about proof, because you go through it every time you hear my name.’ Grant’s eyes narrowed. ‘I remember your twitch as I came towards you, as I knelt before you. Your eyes flashed to the bushes, because you heard the same thing that I did. Movement. Except that I knew what it was.’
‘There was no one there.’
Grant waved his hand dismissively. ‘You were never going to admit it. You’d caught the beast, the monster. Why would you spoil it by admitting that someone else had got away?’
‘So this is the new tactic, is it, Grant? Deflection? You’re trying to lessen your guilt. What for? Some parole bid? Try to convince everyone that you’re not the bad guy everyone thinks you are, that you were led astray?’
‘Oh, I’m a bad guy, all right. Baddest of them all. It’s what I can do to others that gives me the hard on.’ He grinned. ‘To see someone else act out your own fantasies, some regular person, drawn in and converted, that’s the real thrill. I get everything then. The anticipation, the build up, and then the act itself, because I’m not the one in the moment, so I can enjoy it. And afterwards, I get the memories too. But more than that, I get to see the person grow, to change. It’s exhilarating. Now that, Mr Parker, is power.’
‘You’re sick.’
‘Yep, a real beast, but there’s something you don’t know, and that is there is no greater enthusiast than the recently converted, because for all the thrill I get, they get the pleasure of pleasing me too.’
‘So you had an accomplice all along?’ Charlotte asked.
‘Everyone has an accomplice, my dear, that little thing that makes you behave like you do. Sometimes it’s your background, or the life you lead, or maybe even those little voices that scratch you in the back of the head, like a symphony to your fantasies, but they’re all still accomplices.’
‘Okay, was it someone physical?’ she said. ‘A real person? Is that who betrayed you?’
Grant wagged his finger at her. ‘I like you. You’re clever. I’m going to have some fun with you later. Tell me, how are you, just so I can imagine you properly? Do you like it rough, someone dominant, holding you down, or are you one of those needy types? Needs a kiss and a cuddle, slow and loving?’