The Reckoning

by Jane Casey

  Right at the front, Derwent was making a big deal out of shushing people as Godley and Pettifer took it in turns to ask a stony-faced Bancroft to explain what he’d done, and why, and how many times. ‘We want to be able to hear what he’s got to say, not what you got up to last night.’

  I found Maeve’s face in the crowd and raised my eyebrows, enjoying the fact that I could see the blood rise to her cheeks from the other side of the room.

  Up in the corner of the screen there was a box that showed the police side of the room, and although the image was small, I could read the interviewers’ faces quite clearly. They were far too professional to show their distaste in any obvious way, but knowing them as I did, I could see that they were increasingly fed up with the lack of cooperation they were getting from Lee, who was on his third ‘no comment’ since I’d walked into the room. His voice came all the way from his boots and he looked bigger, if anything, on-screen. His solicitor, whom I knew to be a man of average build, was about half his size.

  Lee’s clothes had been bloody after his run-in with Skinner’s thugs, but someone had got hold of a clean T-shirt and jeans for him. The T-shirt clung to his pectoral muscles and looked tight on his arms.

  ‘Look at the size of him,’ Ben Dornton marvelled.

  ‘He’s not that big. The camera adds ten pounds. Everyone knows that.’ Maitland was a hard man to impress, but in this case he was taking the piss for the sake of annoying Dornton, who fell for it from a height.

  ‘Ten pounds? You wouldn’t see ten pounds on that body. He’s a giant.’

  ‘That’s pure beef,’ someone else commented. ‘Not an ounce of fat.’

  ‘He didn’t do it all the hard way. He had a couple of different types of steroid on the go, from what I saw in his flat.’

  ‘You’re just jealous, Rob.’ Maitland lolled in his chair, his head tipped back so he could see my reaction upside-down.

  ‘Oh, definitely. I want to bulk up. I must ask him where he gets his T-shirts.’

  ‘Only if you want to look like a boy-band reject,’ Liv said tartly.

  ‘For the last time, shut up.’ Derwent glared around at us. ‘If you’re not interested, get out.’

  ‘You’re not missing much.’ Keith Bryce was standing beside me, his hands in his pockets. ‘He hasn’t said anything interesting yet, has he?’

  ‘Not specially. Unless you count “no comment”. But that doesn’t mean he won’t.’ Derwent turned back to the screen, watching it with the sort of intensity that had to be exhausting to maintain.

  On the monitor, Godley was becoming, for him, irate. ‘You told us Patricia Farinelli was dead. That was a lie. She was alive at the time, but she wouldn’t have been for long. Were you prepared to allow her to die? Was that what you wanted?’

  Lee looked through him, a half-smile on his face.

  ‘Tell us how you selected your victims.’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Was it you or your brother who came up with the idea?’

  Silence, but Lee’s gaze switched from the back wall of the room to Godley’s face.

  ‘He was the talkative one, wasn’t he? He was the charmer. You’re just the muscle. Without him, you don’t have anything to say for yourself, do you?’

  ‘Have you found out who killed him yet?’

  ‘He speaks,’ Bryce murmured, and when I looked around he was smiling.

  Pettifer leaned on the table. ‘We’re asking the questions, Lee. You’re under arrest on charges of kidnap, false imprisonment, attempted murder and multiple counts of rape. You might like to think about that rather than worrying about us doing our jobs.’

  ‘Which of them did it? Which of them shot him?’ Lee’s shoulders were bunched up around his ears with tension. ‘Have you even bothered to find out?’

  ‘It hasn’t been a priority for us,’ Godley said quietly. ‘We’ve been more concerned with your victims than your brother. If we could clear up a few things about them, then we can concentrate on Drew.’

  ‘Victims?’

  ‘Cheyenne Skinner.’

  He made a movement that was pure impatience. ‘We didn’t kill her. She died.’

  ‘You raped her.’

  A laugh. ‘She just tried to play hard to get. I wasn’t having that. She liked it.’

  ‘That’s not what we’ve heard. And not what the forensic evidence suggests.’

  ‘She didn’t like being kept.’

  ‘You made a mistake with her, didn’t you? You thought she was older than she was. You thought she lived alone, so you could make her disappear like you made Patricia disappear. You must have been very annoyed when you found out the truth.’

  ‘It was unfortunate.’

  ‘Why didn’t you let her go?’

  ‘It was too late for that.’

  ‘You’d already raped her. You’d beaten her up. Withheld food from her.’

  ‘She tried to push the boundaries all the time. She needed to learn the house rules.’

  ‘I can’t believe Godley’s getting him to talk,’ Maitland said.

  ‘It’s the same thing he did with Skinner.’ Maeve was still looking at the screen. ‘He wanted us to find his daughter so he told us everything we asked. Just goes to show everyone has something they love, no matter how bad they are.’

  ‘The house rules. What were they?’ Godley asked.

  Lee shrugged. ‘Do what you’re told.’

  ‘Patricia did what she was told, didn’t she? It didn’t seem to do her much good.’

  Lee looked away again, his expression bored.

  ‘Why don’t you want to talk about Patricia?’

  ‘I don’t see the point.’

  ‘Her evidence is going to put you in prison for life,’ Pettifer said. ‘You should be telling us your version. Give yourself a chance in court.’

  ‘You’re not interested in helping me. You’re just nosy.’ He shifted in his chair. ‘I’m thirsty.’

  Pettifer poured him a glass of water from the jug behind him and pushed it across the table. ‘So what if I am nosy? Tell us about Patricia.’

  ‘I don’t know anyone of that name.’

  ‘Okay. Let’s call her the woman you kept hidden in your uncle’s house for eighteen months. Let’s call her the one you starved and terrorised to the brink of death. Does that help to jog your memory?’

  ‘It’s just not ringing any bells.’ The mocking smile was back on Lee’s face.

  ‘Are you saying that you don’t think of her as a person, Lee?’ Godley’s voice was quiet. ‘You didn’t treat her like one. You treated her like a slave. Would it help if we called her the slave?’

  His smile broadened. ‘Your word. Not mine.’

  ‘What would your word be?’

  ‘When I talked to it – which wasn’t often – I called it “cunt”.’

  He had said it for effect and he would have been delighted by the reaction it got from the team. I was not under the impression I was surrounded by choirboys, but there was a rumble of disapproval all the same. I glanced across at Maeve, whose lips were pressed together tightly. She had told me a little about finding Patricia, and about the story she had told Godley. I had gathered that Maeve was deeply bothered by what had happened to her and I knew that she was trying not to show how upset she was. It was chilling to hear a person dismissed in those terms, but it was hardly a surprise to find out Lee felt that way.

  Godley hadn’t so much as flickered. ‘Why do you feel that way about her?’

  ‘Don’t waste your time and mine.’

  ‘You used her. You treated her like she was worthless.’

  ‘It stopped being fun. So it got replaced.’ Lee turned to his solicitor. ‘Can we stop this now? I’ve got a headache.’

  The solicitor raised his eyebrows and Godley shook his head. ‘A few more questions. Then we’ll take a break.’

  Lee folded his arms with the air of one who had finished cooperating for the time being.

  I leaned to
wards Bryce. ‘Are you interested in this?’

  ‘Not specially,’ he murmured.

  ‘Can I have a word, then? Outside?’

  He was too experienced an officer to ask any more questions; he moved past me towards the door with neither haste nor fuss. I followed him a couple of seconds later, checking my watch as if I had somewhere else to be. It was a wholly unnecessary bit of pantomime – while Lee Bancroft was in interview I could have worn a gorilla mask and streaked the squad room without attracting any attention whatsoever.

  Bryce had gone into the small meeting room and I followed, shutting the door. There was absolutely no point in mincing my words.

  ‘The boss is pretty sure there’s a leak from this squad. Someone’s been keeping Skinner informed about what we’ve been doing.’

  Not a muscle moved in the long face. ‘That sounds likely. He has always been well connected.’

  ‘The obvious question is who.’

  ‘Yes, it is.’ The heavy-lidded eyes stared into mine. He was giving nothing away for free.

  ‘The boss asked me to do some sniffing around.’

  ‘He must think very highly of you.’

  I smiled a little. ‘I don’t think that’s why. I haven’t been directly involved with this case, or with Skinner. He can be pretty sure it wasn’t me.’

  ‘If you say so. There’s a lot of other people it could be, though.’

  ‘Anyone in particular?’

  ‘You first.’

  He was going to make me say it. I braced myself. ‘Have you ever wondered about Josh Derwent? You’ve worked with him for a long time.’

  Bryce’s shoulders sagged an inch. ‘Ah. I hoped you wouldn’t have thought of that.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘I never wanted to think he might be on the take. He’s a good lad. He works hard, in his own way.’

  ‘He’s been up to his neck in the case. There aren’t many people who would be better placed to pass on information to John Skinner. And Godley trusts him. They have a friendship outside work. He would have been one of the few to have known his address.’

  ‘He would. Have you talked to him?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘What about the boss?’

  ‘I need evidence.’

  ‘Yes, you do. What are you thinking?’

  ‘When Crowther was shot at Lee Bancroft’s flat, he was carrying two phones. One was his own iPhone, for personal use. The other was a cheapie job that he was obviously using for work. I got the telephone intelligence unit to download the messages off it and bingo, that’s how they were communicating with the person in this squad. So if you don’t mind helping me have a look through Derwent’s things, we might be able to find the phone he’s been using to communicate with Crowther.’

  ‘Won’t he have dumped it by now? Given that it all went tits-up yesterday?’

  ‘Possibly. But it’s his means of communication with the Skinner gang. He’s not going to want to abandon it without having an alternative lined up, and I doubt he’s had time. They’d have to give him the new number to use and Skinner has been running out of staff. My betting is that Felix Crowther was in charge of the intel – that was his reputation, wasn’t it?’

  ‘He was probably the brightest of them,’ Bryce allowed. ‘That’s not saying much.’

  ‘All things considered, it’s worth having a scout around. But I need to be quick, and I don’t know him well enough to be able to explain it if he found me looking in his desk or his car.’

  ‘I get the picture. You want me to do that.’

  ‘I’ll check his locker.’

  ‘What if he has it on him?’

  ‘Would you take that risk?’ I half-smiled. ‘Anyway, he’s in his shirtsleeves and his trousers are on the snug side. I can see how many coins he’s got in his pockets. If he’s got a phone in there, it’s too small to be visible with the naked eye.’

  ‘Fair point.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t like it.’

  ‘If I’m wrong, he’ll be none the wiser.’

  ‘If you’re right, he’s in a lot of trouble.’

  ‘Not of my making.’

  ‘Maybe not.’ A deep sigh. ‘I’ll help. But I hope you’re wrong.’

  ‘Honestly? So do I.’ And I meant it.

  ‘Josh? Can you come in here for a moment?’

  ‘What’s up?’ Derwent breezed in, kicking the door shut with a back-heel. He looked around the room, at Bryce in one chair, at me leaning against a filing cabinet, at Godley who was sitting behind his desk, his fingers laced. ‘Who died?’

  ‘Sit down.’ Godley waited until Derwent had flung himself into the vacant chair, his fingers tapping on his knees. I had never seen anyone so wired who wasn’t on drugs and I found myself wondering about that for an instant, then put it out of my mind. Concentrate on the things you can prove …

  ‘Josh, you know as well as I do that John Skinner seems to have had access to the information we possessed all through this case. Rob has been looking into the likelihood that someone has been leaking that information deliberately.’

  ‘Makes sense.’ Derwent looked at me expectantly. ‘Found anything?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Godley’s head snapped up at that; I hadn’t told him. I was watching Derwent. The fidgeting hadn’t stopped, even for a second. It was a good cover for giveaway twitches he wouldn’t have been able to hide otherwise, and I couldn’t pinpoint anything that made me sure he was guilty.

  Derwent raised his eyebrows. ‘Don’t keep us in suspense. Who was it?’

  ‘You.’

  ‘What?’ He stopped dead for a second, his mouth open. ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’

  Bryce was looking down at his feet. Godley’s face had gone white. I was not the sort of person to enjoy the theatre of unmasking a villain; quickly and quietly I explained what I had learnt.

  ‘This case was obviously of particular interest to John Skinner, but it’s not the only one that’s been compromised by leaking information, from what I’ve heard. You and DI Bryce worked for Superintendent Godley on the task force that targeted Skinner some years ago. He was always ahead of the game. You never managed to catch him in the act, no matter what you tried. No one is that good. He was acting on inside information then, just the same way he was on this occasion.’

  Derwent had folded his arms. He was smiling, incredibly. He seemed to have decided not to take it seriously. ‘Skinner has a habit of corrupting people. You can’t be sure there wasn’t someone crooked on that task force and someone else on this team. Why does it have to be the same person?’

  ‘It doesn’t. But it has to be someone who Superintendent Godley trusts.’ I risked a look at the boss. ‘You invited DI Derwent to your home on numerous occasions, boss. That’s true, isn’t it? He knew your wife and your daughter’s names. He knew a lot about your family.’

  ‘I was close to my team in the old days. I’ve got into better habits now.’

  ‘Keith fits both of those criteria too,’ Derwent pointed out. Bryce’s eyebrows twitched in surprise.

  ‘DI Bryce didn’t react strongly at the sight of Cheyenne Skinner’s body. I was there when you ran out of the room. You had a visceral reaction to it, and it surprised me at the time. It’s what I would have expected from someone who knew the victim.’

  ‘Are you telling me I shouldn’t be upset about the death of a fourteen-year-old girl?’ His voice was harsher – he was getting angry with me. I preferred it to the mocking levity, on the whole.

  ‘I am saying that it was an unexpected reaction from someone who presents himself as being an old-school copper. The boss has a fourteen-year-old daughter. I’m sure it was hard for him to see Cheyenne’s body. But he stayed in the room.’

  ‘You’re a dickhead. You think you’re being clever, but you don’t know jackshit about me.’

  ‘What is there to know?’

  ‘I have personal reasons for being upset at what I saw in the warehouse. Those
reasons are not relevant to this discussion.’

  ‘With respect, they are if they go some way to explaining how you behaved.’

  ‘With respect, fuck yourself sideways.’

  ‘What about the shooting yesterday? When we got there, the action was all over. Three in custody, one down. None of our lads shot. You weren’t responsible. You had been well away from the action. But you were sweating like a horse when we were talking to you.’

  ‘I don’t like shooting,’ Derwent muttered. He looked ashamed of himself, but defiant. ‘I was in the army before this. I was in Northern Ireland in the nineties, right at the end of the fighting, and it fucked me up, the things I saw. I left after that – couldn’t deal with the stress. I don’t like being around CO19 at the best of times and I can’t deal with gunfire.’

  Bryce raised his head. ‘It’s true. He’s always been gun-shy.’

  ‘Then you went to the trouble of telling the three thugs to keep their mouths shut in interview. I bet you felt a lot better after that.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Derwent’s forehead crinkled as he tried to remember. ‘I was just putting them under pressure. Softening them up.’

  ‘Why bother? They weren’t going to break down because you told them they were screwed.’

  ‘It’s what I do,’ Derwent said simply. ‘That’s how I get results. I’m not the quickest at outthinking people in an interview room but I’m good at pushing them around.’

  ‘Literally.’ I tried to keep any hint of my personal feelings out of my voice for the next bit. ‘What happened when John Skinner was arrested? How did Maeve Kerrigan get injured?’

  ‘She fell.’

  ‘She had help.’

  ‘I did push her. But I was terrified she’d get shot. I don’t like women being in harm’s way. I’m old-fashioned like that.’

  ‘She said you went to restrain Superintendent Godley even though there were two men fighting your fellow officers. You went to help Skinner. Were you trying to get him out?’

  ‘Through a million and one CO19 boys? I’d have to be suicidal.’ He looked at Godley. ‘Boss, I could see you’d lost it. If you’d done serious damage to him, that would be it. End of career. No question about it. I had to stop you, but for your own good.’