‘I’d like to break his sodding little neck.’ He sighed.
‘Do you think there is a connection between him and Angela Thornton?’
‘I don’t honestly know. I was just trying it on because that’s another fucking scenario we need to explore.’
He wiped his fingers on a paper napkin, rolled it up into a tight ball and tossed it into the wastebasket.
‘We believe that Oates has some hold over Bradford, right? And it’s a big one, so is there any possibility that it was the two of them? That they’re both killers, and did all of the murders between them?’
Anna shook her head.
‘No, I don’t buy that; Oates has admitted to the murders. Why would he protect Timmy if he was an accomplice? It couldn’t have been the two of them with Mrs Douglas if she was already dead.’
‘Yes, yes, I know that,’ he snapped.
Anna found it difficult to know what to say to Langton as he was in such a foul mood.
‘Listen, let me dig around and see if I can find any connection between Bradford and Angela Thornton, because of the way he reacted the first time he broke down.’
‘The little fucker could get an Oscar nomination for his performances; it’s hard to get anything out of him.’
Anna suggested that in the next session they should pull back on the accusation about his mother. They now knew she had died of a heart attack, so maybe if they went softly and encouraged Bradford to talk about the possibility of it being an accident, that he had never intended to hurt her, he would divulge more about his relationship with Oates.
Langton checked his watch and agreed that he would give it a go.
Bradford appeared to be calmer. He’d washed his face and hands, and sat pressing back into his chair, his solicitor beside him. Mike reminded him that he was still under caution, and that anything he said might be used as evidence in court. Before Langton started the interview Bradford cleared his throat and said that he had been answering all their questions truthfully, and he was still very distressed about what had happened. He then gave a long rambling explanation of how he had been out shopping and when he returned Oates had already been let into the flat by his mother. He said that Oates had tied her up and she was lying on the sofa in her nightdress and had wet herself. He said she had sticky tape wrapped around her face and hands and her feet were tied with the cord from her dressing gown.
‘I’d fancied a beer so I just walked round to the off-licence, they’re open until late, and I made up that story about the dog track because I didn’t want to admit that Oates scared me.’
Anna licked her fingers as she sifted through her pages and pages of notes. In fact she had filled up one notebook and was on to her second. Eventually she found what she was looking for, her interview with Ira Zacks. She had made only sporadic notes, mostly about the last time he said he had seen Oates and his work in the clubs. She closed her eyes, willing herself to remember. She recalled he had said that Oates only worked for him briefly as he was not suitable, but no matter how many times she went backwards and forwards through her jottings she couldn’t find what she was looking for, so she snapped her book closed and crossed to stare once more at the incident board. She concentrated on Angela Thornton’s missing persons details and then it clicked.
She absolutely had to speak to Ira Zacks. She knew that he hadn’t been granted bail and was awaiting trial for drug dealing, so she called Brixton Prison, stressing it was of the utmost importance and involved a murder enquiry. There was a long delay as she hung on waiting before eventually being told that it would take at least half an hour for them to bring Ira Zacks to the governor’s office, always supposing he would agree to talk to her. Frustrated, she even suggested that she could make the journey to the prison in person. She insisted it had nothing to do with his drug charges but it was imperative she speak to him and for them to explain who she was and that they had met before.
Anna waited impatiently for nearly an hour, but eventually the call came.
‘He’s through, Detective Travis.’
‘Thank you. Mr Zacks, I don’t know if you remember me – I came to your flat to ask you some questions about Henry Oates.’
‘Yeah.’
‘I am really grateful that you have agreed to talk to me.’
‘Yeah.’
‘You mentioned to me that you ran a business supplying doormen to a number of clubs in London.’
‘Not any more.’
‘But you did, and you had a very successful business.’
‘Yeah.’
‘You started off in the East End, is that right?’
‘Yeah, Mile End Road, near the boxing club.’
‘Do you recall the names of any of the men you employed?’
‘It’s not exactly employed – I give ’em the job and they give me a cut; it wasn’t like I employed them back then, if you know what I mean, and I didn’t have no contracts, it was verbal with me.’
‘Yes, I understand, it’s just very important if you could remember any of the men that worked for you and I realize it is a long time ago, but perhaps they were ex-boxers . . .’
‘Yeah.’
‘I am talking nearly five years ago, so it might be a test of your memory.’
‘You don’t say. What’s in this for me anyway?’
Anna licked her lips and decided to test Zacks’ empathy.
‘You remember me showing you a picture of a little girl that was missing? Well, if you could remember – you have children of your own and . . .’
‘Yeah, yeah, it’s to do with Henry Oates, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well I only used him the once and he was no use, didn’t have a suit either, but it wasn’t in Mile End, that was over in Kilburn.’
‘So do you remember anyone working for you in Mile End?’
There was a pause and she could hear his heavy breathing.
‘Yeah, okay, Brian Heigh, middleweight, good bloke.’
She waited; he was clicking his tongue against his teeth.
‘Tony Jackson, he used to be there, but I don’t remember nobody else. Wait a minute, there was one of the guys I knew from York Hall, he worked there a few times, shit, can’t remember his name.’
‘Describe him to me.’
Ira exhaled and said she was asking a lot and then without hesitation he said, ‘Of course, it was Tim Bradford, there you go, shows my grey cells are still working, nice fighter, but bled like a stuck pig. I remember him now, lived up the road in Bromley-by-Bow, but he didn’t do more than a few months.’
Anna’s hand was shaking as she replaced the phone, and she had to take a few deep breaths before she could write down the information. Then she made her way to the interview room, tapped on the door and opened it. ‘DCI Travis with a message for DCS Langton,’ she said for the benefit of the tape. Langton came out, closing the door behind him.
‘I tried the softly-softly and he still won’t give it up.’
‘Try this.’
Anna explained to him about the Mile End connection, and her idea that the night Angela Thornton had disappeared, Bradford could have been working the doors on the club. He had lived just up the road from there and had never been questioned about her disappearance as they had CCTV footage of her leaving the club and heading for the Tube station. Anna had also checked with the DVLA to confirm that at that time Bradford owned a car. It was a red Ford Fiesta and a witness had claimed to have seen a red car parked close to the Tube station, although the car and driver had never been traced. Langton folded the notes and gave a brief nod of his head, but he took a few moments before he returned to the interview room.
Anna sat in the viewing room, watching as Langton took his seat, intrigued as to how he would handle the new information. First he set aside the files he had been using before the interruption. He then stacked them onto the trolley. He next removed the Angela Thornton file and the exhibit bag with her bracelet, setting them in front of him. He took
out his fountain pen, drew his notebook close, wrote something and then replaced the cap.
Bradford looked at his solicitor then back to Langton. Meanwhile, Mike had been given Anna’s latest findings, which he read before returning them to Langton.
‘My client has been in custody since midday and it is now 7.30 p.m.,’ the solicitor pointed out. ‘If you have no further questions to put to him and are not charging him with any offence then I suggest—’
Langton ignored her and cut in.
‘Tell me about the time you worked on the Mile End Road, Mr Bradford.’
Bradford’s mouth dropped open.
‘What is this in reference to?’ his solicitor asked.
Langton held up the photograph of Angela Thornton.
‘The murder of this girl, Miss Adams.’ He turned to Bradford. ‘What happened, Tim, you see her dancing around, having a night out with her friends, too good for the likes of you, you try and get a date, did you? She turn you down, did she? Look at her, LOOK AT HER!’ He slapped the photograph down on the table. ‘Just a washed-up amateur boxer, only jobs you could get were working the doors, and there was this lovely girl, shiny blonde hair, blue eyes, and this lovely bracelet – was it that you were after? Did you want to nick her gold bracelet? You’d never be able to afford anything as nice as this to give to a girl. You were still dependent on your mother and stepfather; he didn’t like you, did he? Reckoned you were a big freeloader . . .’
As Langton talked it was like watching a tight spring begin to uncoil. Bradford was squirming in his seat, his fists clenched one minute, the next pressing down on his thighs. His body twisted, and he kept moving his head from side to side as if his neck was stiffening up.
‘Can I give you a lift, love, can I give you a lift in my red Ford Fiesta?’ Langton adopted a singsong voice, smiling. ‘You can trust me, love, I work the doors, I protect people, I don’t let in the tough guys, I look out for the customers, you can trust me, get in the car, I can take you home . . .’
Langton stopped smiling as he leaned across the table and raised his voice.
‘But you didn’t take her home, did you? DID YOU? How did you break her little gold bracelet? Grab her by the wrists, did you? Smack her around, did you? Punch out this lovely little girl, look at her face, look at her face, Timmy.’
‘I want to speak with my solicitor,’ Bradford said softly.
‘You do that and I hope she advises you that it would be in your best interests to tell us the truth about everything!’ Langton shouted.
Anna thought that Langton was going to reach over and grab Bradford by the hair and shove his face down onto the table. But before he could launch into another likely scenario of what might have happened that fatal evening, Bradford began to punch his own chest. His fists smacked hard into his flesh, ape-like, but far from an animal show of superiority, it was a pitiful show, his last fight, before he broke down and the floodgates opened.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The following morning the team gathered in the incident room at 9 a.m. for an update briefing from Mike Lewis and Anna about the previous day’s interviews and interesting developments concerning Timmy Bradford working at the nightclub in the Mile End Road. The same club that Angela Thornton had been to the night she was believed to have been abducted and murdered. Langton stayed in Mike’s office, listening to the recorded interviews they had already had with Bradford and preparing for the further interview with him that was to take place after the briefing.
The interview of Timmy Bradford, again with his solicitor Mary Adams present, started at just after 10 a.m. Anna, Barbara and Joan were all in the viewing room, eager to see if Langton would finally get Timmy Bradford to tell the truth and confess to his involvement in Angela and his mother’s deaths, but more importantly if he would reveal Oates’s involvement in the crimes.
‘I tell you, I reckon there’ll be floods of tears again in that room,’ Barbara said with a serious look on her face.
‘Bradford looks pretty calm to me,’ Joan replied.
‘No, not him, bloody Langton if he doesn’t get Bradford to roll over this time!’ Barbara retorted amusingly, causing everyone to laugh loudly.
Mike had turned on the recording equipment and Langton was about to start his questioning when Miss Adams interjected.
‘As you are aware, Detective Langton, I had a lengthy consultation with my client both last night and this morning. He has informed me that he had not told you the truth previously, as he was afraid of Henry Oates who is clearly a violent and dangerous man. Mr Bradford is now prepared to tell you about both his mother’s and Angela Thornton’s deaths. He is also willing to give evidence against Oates at trial.’
‘Thank you, Miss Adams, for advising your client to assist us,’ Langton said before again being interrupted by Miss Adams.
‘However, he maintains, and will explain why in detail, that the deaths of both women were not in any way premeditated.’
‘Let’s start with Angela then, Timmy. Tell me about how you met her and the night she died,’ Langton said, and then sat back in his chair, anticipating only partial truths from Bradford.
‘I was working at the nightclub in Mile End and I’d seen Angela there a few times and I asked her out once but she said she had a boyfriend. Henry knew who she was as well cos I pointed her out and told him I fancied her.’
‘Where was that?’ Mike asked.
‘The nightclub. I’d got Henry a temporary job there under a false name, cash in hand, while another bloke was off sick. It was to make up for him not getting work at the chalk quarry. I can’t remember the exact night, but Henry was with me and we’d finished work and were going back to my flat in Bow in my car.’
‘The red Fiesta?’ Mike asked.
‘Yes. I saw Angela by the Mile End Tube Station; she looked drunk and was staggering about, carrying a bottle of alcopop and her shoes. I stopped and asked her if she was okay. She said she had missed the last Tube home and didn’t have enough money for a cab,’ Bradford told them in a subdued voice.
‘Timmy. I need you to speak up so the recorder picks up everything you are saying,’ Mike told him.
‘Sorry. It’s just so hard because I lied to her. I said I didn’t have any insurance and had been drinking so I didn’t want to risk driving her all the way out to Epping.’
Langton sat up and leaned towards Bradford, expecting him to say that he and Oates then left Angela in the street and someone else must have picked her up and killed her. He was surprised when Bradford went on to say that he offered Angela a lift home, thinking at first that she lived locally, and she got in the car. Once in the car she said she lived in Epping so he lied about the insurance and drinking. He realized how drunk she was and, wanting to take advantage of this, he told her that he had a spare room at his flat and she could stay there for the night and get the Tube home in the morning.
‘So you coaxed her back to your flat with the intention of having sex with her and no doubt you then plied her with more drink,’ Langton stated and Bradford nodded.
‘She got so drunk she fell asleep on the settee and I carried her through to my bedroom and had sex with her. She didn’t resist though,’ Bradford said in a feeble attempt to excuse his actions.
‘Did Henry have sex with her as well?’ Mike asked, deliberately avoiding the fact that it was rape for fear of upsetting the flow of Bradford’s account of what happened to Angela.
‘No, he slept in the spare room and he was still there in the morning when I was panicking and asking him what to do cos I couldn’t wake her up.’
‘So how did you kill her?’ Langton asked, confused by what Bradford had just said.
‘That’s it – I didn’t. Henry came and looked at her and said she must have choked on her own vomit and died. Henry laughed, he thought it was funny, but I wanted to call an ambulance. He said no way because they would call the police then we’d be arrested for rape and murder.’
Anna and the ot
hers were still in the viewing room and it seemed to them that Bradford, although visibly distraught, was holding himself together and probably now telling the truth, and his further account of what happened explained why Oates had such a strong hold over him.
Bradford went on to say that he had found himself in an unreal place, terrified of being arrested and consumed by guilt about Angela’s death. Oates had told him that he shouldn’t worry as he would get rid of the body for him but he needed to use his car to do this. Oates had said that by disposing of the body it made them partners and Timmy owed him. Bradford never knew or asked where the body had been taken and he thought that Oates had since sold the car or burnt it.
Bradford went on to say that after Angela’s death Oates had contacted him five or six times demanding money. He gave him what he could but about two years ago he told Oates that he had had enough and if Henry didn’t leave him alone he would go and tell the police what had happened to Angela. After reading about Oates’s arrest in the paper, Bradford was sure it was all going to come out but he figured Oates hadn’t said anything about it as he was never arrested and was not asked about Angela when DCI Travis came to see him or when he was asked about the quarry incident at the police station.
Langton decided that it was time to move on to the death of Bradford’s mother, Mrs Douglas.
‘Thank you, Timmy, for telling us about what happened to Angela Thornton, but I now want to move on to the death of your mother. Do you want to continue or would you like a short break to compose yourself?’ Langton asked.
‘No, thanks. I had been running up gambling debts and I was two grand in debt to a loan shark so I asked my mum if I could borrow some money to pay him off but she refused to help me.’
‘When was this?’ Langton asked.
‘A day or so before Henry escaped and came to the flat. I was desperate, so while Mum was out I phoned the bank and said that she wanted me to make a withdrawal on her behalf and I asked what they needed for me to do this.’
‘The cashier said she spoke with your mum for her password and approval,’ Mike informed Bradford.
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