The coffee arrived and Doc poured himself a strong one. He waited for the others to return, reflecting on what he had heard. Leech had tagged Pugh, quoted her views to them all. How had he done that?
Pugh and Jeffries arrived. The three of them spread out around the table, laying papers before them. Jeffries kicked off.
‘This is an exceptional case, I think we can all agree. I’d like to hear from Doc first for his expert opinion. Then you, Sophie. I’ll then determine how we should agree to proceed.’
Doc needed no encouragement.
‘My view is that he is institutionalised. His rationale for returning to high security from open prison beggars belief. Indeed he contradicted himself. The interviewing officer gave a very different reason to the one we heard today.’
‘But he explained that. It was an oversight on Ms Finch’s part.’
‘Sophie.’ He faced her, his eyes intense, trying to drill his thoughts into her skull, trying to make her see reason. ‘My expert opinion is that Leech is an accomplished liar. I don’t doubt that if we were to ask Judy Finch she would confirm the reason given in the report.’ He rubbed his palm over his forehead, frustrated, impatient with Pugh’s bias. He made his next statement as forcefully as he could. ‘My view is that releasing this man represents a risk, at the very least to his brother.’ Doc could see Pugh winding up for a fight, but kept on. ‘We must assume he is guilty and that he killed his parents. If there is any residual animosity, and it certainly sounded like it to me, then Shaun Leech is in danger.’
Pugh could barely contain herself at that.
‘Doctor, please clarify for a layperson, his motivation in this respect as logic seems to indicate he has none.’ She was ironic as she explained her point for him, as if he were a child failing to grasp a simple problem. ‘His assertion of innocence, if true, would mean he has no history of killing. Ergo, he would be no threat to anyone, not even his brother.’ She paused, letting the words sink in, then went on. ‘And if he did kill his parents, as we are led to believe, in a fit of rage over money, then he has no reason to harm his brother – obviously he would know he wasn’t framed!’
‘She’s got a point Doc.’
Doc was exasperated. He could not get them to understand, nor were they giving his opinion the weight it deserved. He knew he wasn’t on top form, knew he would normally be able to convince Jeffries. He tried a different tack.
‘Leech is a psychopath. When he said my brother is dead, I took that as a threat.’
Pugh let out a loud, disbelieving snort, making Doc more determined to ram home the point. ‘We don’t know whether Leech had planned to kill his brother along with his parents. Nor do we have any real evidence that he’s forgiven him. He was ferocious in his condemnation of Shaun when I met him eighteen years ago.’
‘Isn’t that the problem? You can’t see how much he has changed? He’s a reformed character.’
‘Psychopaths don’t change, Sophie. They merely adapt.’
Jeffries dithered. ‘Mmm. What do you think Sophie?’
‘He is independently wealthy. He has his own home. He is therefore in a better position than any other inmate I’ve ever dealt with. Most of them leave prison with a few pounds in their pockets and head for a hostel. No prospects!’ She was getting worked up. Passionate in her mission in life. ‘He may have a strange view of the re-settlement process, but I agree that he doesn’t really need to go through it.’ She sipped her coffee, then added, ‘As for that dinosaur Diarmud, he quite obviously had it in for Leech. Talk about biased! Well, I’ve made my mind up. We should parole him.’
Jeffries asked Doc, ‘Can you say for sure that Shaun Leech would be in danger?’
‘Of course not.’ Doc wished he could. But one hundred percent certainty was impossible in his field. ‘But my experience, my gut feel, his blatantly manipulative behaviour today,’ his colleagues looked blank at that comment, ‘and my belief he has become institutionalised, all lead me to recommend he spends the next twelve months in an open facility as a minimum. Then he should be reviewed with the possibility of parole. Let’s take it slowly.’
Jeffries sat back, steepled his fingers, thumbs on his chin, his lips almost kissing his fingers.
‘I hear what you say.’ He glanced at the time. ‘We have two more to review today.’
Doc was mentally urging Jeffries to see his point, could sense prevarication. Then the bombshell.
Jeffries turned to Doc as he said, ‘A prisoner costs the taxpayer over a thousand pounds for each week of incarceration...’ Doc’s heart pounded his chest as he listened, incensed, not believing the cost argument could outweigh his professional assessment. ‘Since you can’t be more definite in terms of potential threat,’ he checked with Pugh who was openly delighted, already anticipating what was coming, ‘I find myself confirming Sophie’s view. We will recommend to the Home Secretary that Leech be released on his Parole Eligibility Date in three weeks. He will be restrained from contacting, or otherwise interfering with, his brother, Shaun Leech...’ He shuffled his papers and said, ‘So, who’s next?’
***
Later that day, as they were packing up, Jeffries asked Pugh, ‘As a matter of interest, how did you become aware of Officer Diarmud’s history with Leech?’
‘You mean the accusation of attempted murder?’
‘Indeed. An impressive piece of research.’
For the first time that day Doc heard a genuine gurgle of laughter from Pugh.
‘Oh, hardly. I received an anonymous note yesterday. It gave details of the stairway incident.’
‘And you verified it?’
‘Of course. I telephoned Mr Riggs, the victim. He confirmed it was an accident.’
‘I see.’
‘He was the one who suggested Diarmud may not be totally impartial with regard to Leech. Which was the case.’
As they filed out, Doc could not help but wonder, who had sent that note? Somehow it had to be from Leech himself, he decided. And had some of Leech’s excessive wealth found its way to Rigg’s bank account, thereby encouraging the man to support his parole application? Doc could think of no other reason.
Then Pugh spoke, contradicting his thoughts.
‘It seems that Mr Leech does have some friends after all!’
Doc was not so sure.
***
Doc was glad to finally get out of there. He waited for a cab, waving Pugh and Jeffries into the first ones to arrive, happy to relax alone and take the air. Not that it was particularly fresh, but it still smelt pure and clean after the musky tang of prison. He ignored a few taxis before finally hailing one.
He got in, gave the driver his address and flipped open his mobile. His motives for calling Judy were a tangled mess. He certainly found her attractive in so many ways. He could feel himself being drawn in deeper each time he saw her...
But today, he reasoned, his need to speak to her was purely professional. Not as his therapist or potential lover, although he did look forward to sharing his trauma, his burden, with her sympathetic ear.
Right now, he felt concerned for her, with fear sneaking into his heart and lodging there. It was the way Leech had spoken about her. As if they were close. As if they were friends, or maybe more. Doc did not like it at all.
Am I jealous?
The thought jumped into his head as he punched Judy’s number into the phone. He stopped, examining the idea, trying to detach himself for a moment.
No.
It was not an overreaction. He had seen it in Leech’s mannerisms, heard it in the prisoner’s speech patterns. His experience had sent him a warning and he knew not to ignore it. His professional judgement was that Leech genuinely felt some sort of bond, some connection with Judy.
And yes, she could be in danger.
But how to warn her without freaking her out? Her one encounter with Leech had disturbed her enough already. She had told Doc so, had even wanted to meet him to discuss it.
Or did she? M
aybe it was just a ploy... An excuse to see him again! He gave himself a goofy grin at that thought. She had made it quite clear she wanted a relationship with him. Could she have been manipulating him?
Then, his ego under control again, he thought it unlikely. She would not need an excuse. She would have just called him, invited him for a drink.
He re-dialled, a fuzzy glow spreading through him as he anticipated hearing her voice. The taxi arrived at his home as he heard Judy’s phone ringing. He gave the cabbie twenty pounds, not waiting for change. He heard a cheery, ‘Good on yer, mate,’ as he turned away.
‘Hi Colin. How was your day? And Leech?’
‘Oh, he performed like a pro. Fooled at least two of the three of us.’
‘But not the amazingly perceptive Doc Powers?’ She teased him. He liked it.
‘Well, maybe that’s a little strong. I merely recommended he serve a year in open prison, before parole is considered.’
‘And they ignored your advice? When is he out? Two or three weeks?’
‘Assuming the Home Sec rubber stamps things, then three... One thing – he said he told you the reason he requested a transfer back from open prison was so that he could continue his work as a Listener, helping inmates. He felt he was no use at Ford.’
‘That’s rubbish! He said nothing of the sort.’
‘Are you sure?’ She certainly sounded it.
‘Positive.’ Not a smidgeon of doubt there. ‘You can listen to the recording if you want.’
‘No, no. That won’t be necessary. As long as you’re sure, that’s good enough for me. Just confirms what I suspected. He’s a compulsive liar.’ What other porkies did you tell us, Leech?
‘It’s here if you change your mind. I certainly won’t be needing it. I couldn’t even face listening to it after our interview. He really gave me the creeps...’
Acid squirted, burning his stomach. He rubbed his chest and belly, trying to ease the pain, and it occurred to him that he may have abused his body beyond repair. He ignored the discomfort, keeping his attention on Judy. Her words had not only confirmed his suspicions, but it was worse than he thought.
Christ, she couldn’t even listen to the interview again. Had been that disturbed by the man...
Doc tried to be gentle, to probe, not criticise. ‘Was it so bad? You had to do the report from your notes?’
‘I’m perfectly capable Colin! I’ve written more reports from memory than I’ve had hot dinners.’ She flared, about to bite his head off.
‘Judy, I am not criticising. Just concerned. He really did get to you, didn’t he?’
She sounded mollified. ‘Yes... I’ve interviewed all sorts. No one like him though. He was...’ she struggled for words to describe Leech.
‘A green-eyed monster?’ His own jealousy remembered as he joked about Leech, trying to lighten the mood.
She giggled. ‘Yeah. Anyway, I’m over it now, and I’ve had several oral hearings myself this week. I’m getting to like this job.’
‘Good. Now, how about tomorrow night. Can I cook again, or am I likely to offend Betty?’
‘I’d love that.’ She sounded like she meant it, her smile visible to Doc as he heard her utter the words. Her voice husky. So sexy.
They arranged things and Doc hit the ‘end’ button.
He had managed not to worry Judy about Leech’s release. But he would listen to that recording.
He hoped he was overreacting. Misreading Leech. But deep down, he knew he was right.
What do you want with her, Leech? What?
***
Judy replaced the receiver. She was in the kitchen and Gran had plopped a cup of tea down for her as she had been speaking, then busied herself washing the dishes. There was no question of the nosy old dear leaving her to it, to talk to her new man in private.
Her new man? Was he?
Not yet, but he will be. Of that, she was certain.
‘So how is Mr Wonderful?’ Gran was only mildly sarcastic. Judy knew she liked Colin.
‘Busy. Like me.’ She picked up a tea towel and started the drying up.
‘I take it my services as a Josh-sitter will be required for tomorrow night? Going somewhere nice?’
‘Please mum.’ She pecked the downy cheek. ‘You’re such a gem. He’s cooking again.’
‘Great!’ Gran was impressed by any man who could cook. ‘But you haven’t said much about him to me love.’ She sniffed.
Judy burst into laughter. ‘Mum! We’ve done nothing but talk about him...’
‘Yes. All work and how bright and supportive he is.’ She studied her daughter, the plate in her hand receiving extra attention as she spoke. ‘But do you really see him as the man for you love? Long term?’
‘Mum, please give it a rest. I know I’ve met some misfits and creeps... Colin’s just different.’
‘Don’t get me wrong dear.’ Gran waggled a soapy brush under Judy’s nose, finally relinquishing the pristine plate. ‘I just don’t want to see you hurt again. That’s all...’
‘I’m a big girl mum.’
‘You’re my daughter, and you know I think the world of you. Now, Colin, although I hardly know him, from what little you’ve told me, he seems a lovely man...’ She thrust the brush in the bowl and attacked another helpless plate.
‘Exactly. I don’t see him hurting me.’ Not like John. ‘If anything I think he’s more sensitive than me.’
‘Bambi!’ Gran passed Judy the plate and plucked out the last. Her frenzied motions trying to scrub away the frustration she felt with her daughter. ‘That’s what you called him. With his brown eyes and long lashes. I can see why.’ She stopped, brush poised. ‘But there’s a lot of sadness there sweetheart... His wife’s been dead how long?’
‘Four months.’ Judy spoke quietly. Her mother unerringly homing in on her own concern regarding her new relationship.
‘Your dad died seven years ago. I still miss him love.’ She popped the last of the dishes in the rack, held Judy’s hands, soap suds dripping to the floor as she searched her daughter’s face. ‘I hope it works out for you this time. God knows you deserve it. But...’
Judy was not sure she wanted to hear. Waited. Then asked, ‘But what mum?’ She thought she knew what was coming, her heart chilling as she wondered – was Colin really ready? But her mother came up with something much worse.
‘Men sometimes use us my love. He’s a lovely man, and he may not even know he’s doing it. Just take it slowly. Be careful. Don’t push him.’ She gave Judy one of her I know you looks. ‘Just be prepared for him to move on... when he’s feeling better about himself.’
‘What?’ She squeezed her mother’s slippery hands, not liking what she was hearing, seeing the worry lining the old lady’s face. ‘Don’t you think I’m good enough for him?’
‘Of course I don’t think that! There’s never a man been born who’s too good for my Judy... But,’ she shook her head, firm in her view, ‘right now? There’s no woman that can replace the wife he still loves. Just like me with your dad. Take my advice.’ She patted Judy’s hands, reassuring. ‘Take it slowly. Let him fall in love again in his own time. And let’s both pray he doesn’t hurt you.’ She hugged Judy, snatched the tea towel from her and ushered her out the kitchen. ‘Go and have a shower. And cheer up! You know I’m just an overprotective old biddy!’
Judy kissed her mum’s forehead and headed for the shower. The phone chirped.
‘I’ll get it... You shower. Then we eat.’
Judy did as she was told. For once.
***
‘Oh, it’s you.’
John was surprised at the cold voice. He thought Judy would be home by now – it was two o’clock in the afternoon in New York, seven o’clock in London. Damn! The dragon was awkward at the best of times, and this certainly was not one of them.
‘I would like to speak to Judy.’
‘Well, I’m afraid she doesn’t want to speak to you – ’
‘Just put her
on Betty.’ He was in no mood for this. The cantankerous old bag.
‘You really don’t get it, do you John? You no longer call the tune in this household, thank goodness.’ She was gloating!
He hardened his tone. ‘I really don’t want to argue with you. I’m very busy, I haven’t got time for this. Here I am, working flat out, and I get this ridiculous letter faxed by my solicitor. I need to speak to my ex-wife. Now.’ These days John was used to getting his way. People jumped when he spoke.
But not Gran.
‘You pompous little prig – ’ It sounded like prick to him over the satellite connection, and he was astounded that she had sworn at him. ‘Judy has an injunction preventing you contacting her or Josh. Can’t you read? This telephone call is an infringement of that order and will only cause you more trouble, I’m hanging up.’
‘Please don’t Betty!’
More trouble, she’d said. As if!
He took a deep breath, the line was still open, though she was not speaking. ‘I’m sorry if I was short-tempered. Believe me, I’m exceptionally tired and will be working solidly over this weekend. In fact I’ll be slogging away for sixteen hours every day for the next four weeks. I really do need to sort this out...’ He tried the one thing he knew she would respond to. ‘Please Betty. For Josh’s sake.’
It did not wash with Gran.
‘Hah! You are a very selfish man, John. There is only one person you’ve ever cared about and that’s you.’
‘That’s not true. I care about my son.’
‘Oh really? So much so that you almost killed him?’ Her sarcasm cut him like a blade. ‘You’re irresponsible. Not fit to tie his shoes.’
‘It was an accident!’ He heard himself bleating and hated himself for it. ‘I didn’t – ’
‘You didn’t take care of him. You forgot his inhaler. You thoughtless, arrogant... bastard!’
He heard her phone clatter and the connection died. And there was no doubting what she had just called him either.
Jesus Christ! They’ve both gone mad!
John cradled the phone and stood at the desk by the window of his hotel suite, forty floors up, the Big Apple spread before him. The excitement he felt at being here was physical.
Remorseless: A British Crime Thriller (Doc Powers & D.I. Carver Investigate #1) Page 16