Gone Too Far : DCI Miller 4: Britain's Most Hated Celebrity Has Disappeared

by Steven Suttie

  “Sorry to bring you in this way, Kathy,” said Miller. “It’s to avoid the press.”

  “Its okay, its fine. Thanks.”

  “Alright, well, let’s get inside, fix you up with a cup of tea or summat. Do you want a butty?”

  “No, I’m not hungry. Cup of tea would be nice though, thank you very much.”

  “Right, the plan is to do an interview with you, just to find out what’s been going on. It shouldn’t take too long.” Miller was being really, really nice, and Rudovsky was making mental notes to take the piss out of him for it later on. She had no idea at this point that Miller was quietly waiting for an opportunity to take the piss out of her, and the pantomime face she’d pulled at Piers Marshall’s house.

  “Okay, let’s get in there then.”

  Chapter 51

  “We have two major stories running concurrently this morning, and we are just going to break from the very sad news about Bob Francis’ death, to focus on the latest news regarding Kathy Hopkins. The controversial celebrity, who had been missing since last Thursday, was found this morning, by police at the home of television executive Piers Marshall. Details are still very sketchy about the circumstances of this case, but we have some exclusive footage just reaching us. This video was sent in by one of our viewers. It shows Kathy leaving London’s Royal Free hospital in the past few minutes, and as you can see, this footage clearly shows that Kathy has some injuries to her face and neck, and she looks extremely confused, distressed and upset. Here, we can now see the detectives putting Kathy into their unmarked police car, taking her away, we assume to speak to her about what has happened to her over these past eight days, and how or why, she was at Piers Marshall’s house this morning. This is still a very confusing picture, but one thing which is starting to become clearer is that Kathy Hopkirk doesn’t look like the usually confident person that we are used to seeing on our television screens.”

  The news channel started showing the A&E footage again, from the start. It showed Kathy and the detectives jostling through the small crowd at the hospital’s entrance doors. After a few seconds, the blanket that was being used to conceal Kathy’s face was ripped from her head, and the person filming got a very clear shot of a very scared, startled looking woman with several facial injuries.

  “So, just to re-cap, Kathy Hopkirk has been released from hospital in the past few moments, following medical checks, and it is believed that she is now with police officers, who will no doubt be trying to build a picture of where Kathy has spent the past week or so, and under what circumstances. We’ll bring you more on this breaking news story as we get it, but now, let’s cross back to the BBC’s showbiz reporter, who is outside Bob Francis’ house, where a growing number of people are gathering to pay their final respects this morning.”

  * * *

  “Oh my God! Why the hell am I here? Get me out of this stinking cell RIGHT NOW!” Piers Marshall wasn’t happy. He was standing in a police cell, his finger was pushed firmly against the intercom button. He was making his feelings quite clear to the police officers on the other end-of-the-line.

  “Sir, as we have explained, somebody will be along to speak to you in due course.” The officer sounded as though he was a train station announcer, casually explaining that the next train is delayed, and that he really couldn’t give a toss to be perfectly honest.

  “I want my solicitor!”

  “Sir, I have already told you that there are procedures that we have to adhere to. Would you like a book to help you pass the time?”

  “No I would fucking not like a book! FUCK YOU! Let me out of here now, do you hear?”

  “Okay, please stop pressing the intercom Sir, as other guests may need to contact me.”

  “Guests? Are you… is this a… do you get some kind of enjoyment from this, you stupid little bastard.”

  “I know I am but what does that make you?”

  “What, are you taking the piss? You think it’s funny to take the piss. Do you know who I am? I am a very big deal! Do you hear that?”

  Miller was eaves-dropping on Piers Marshall’s increasingly erratic abuse on the custody desk intercom. He was happy to see that Piers was getting so wound up and stressed. He was going to be extremely easy to mess with in the interview while he was feeling so volatile.

  “Okay, listen, just keep doing his head in when he presses it. It would be ideal if he’s in this frame of mind in the interview.”

  “No problem, Sir.”

  “It’s going to be a couple of hours away, at least, we’re still gathering evidence and interviewing other witnesses at this moment in time. But if he asks when he’ll be getting interviewed, just use vague words like soon, imminently and the best of all, my favourite one… presently.”

  “Understood Sir. And thanks for the opportunity. It would be great if we could interact with all of our guests like this!”

  “Good stuff, keep going.”

  * * *

  On the opposite side of the police station, Kathy Hopkirk was in the medical room, being examined by the duty doctor. Kathy looked a lot brighter than she had done first thing, but despite the improved mood, she still appeared quite embarrassed and humiliated. She was struggling to maintain eye contact with the doctor.

  “Yes, I think you’re all in one piece Kathy,” said the female GP, in a very gentle voice, once she had given the celebrity a thorough looking at. “She’s fine to speak to, just don’t keep her too long as she needs a good rest.”

  “Thanks Doctor,” said Rudovsky, glad to hear that Kathy wouldn’t need to go anywhere else. She’d had a dreaded feeling that the GP would request that Kathy be sent off for tests or x-rays or something. Something that would prolong the Manchester detectives stay in London.

  “I’d just advise you to keep a close eye on that swelling around your mouth Kathy. Other than that, I think you’ve been really lucky.”

  “Thank you.” Kathy was looking down at the floor.

  “That bruise above her eye looks nasty Doc. Sure she won’t need any further treatment for that?”

  Rudovsky’s question prompted the GP to reach out and feel the wound gently with her fingers.

  “Aah!” Said Kathy, through clenched teeth.

  “No, I think she’s fine. I just hope you catch the bastard that did this.” The doctor smiled warmly at Kathy, then turned to pack her items into her briefcase. “Okay, well, see you Kathy,” she said as she headed for the door. Rudovsky followed her.

  “Thanks, bye.” Said Kathy quietly. It was almost as if she’d become shy. Her demeanour in this medical examination room certainly wasn’t what the GP had been expecting once she’d learnt who she was here to see.

  As Rudovsky and the GP left the room, the door was closed firmly. “What did you mean by that, Doc? About catching the bastard?”

  “Well, her head has been kicked, punched and stamped-on, judging by those injuries. They are well on the way to healing now, they’re several days old, possibly a week. But whoever did that could very easily have killed her. She’s lucky to be alive detective.”

  “Are you absolutely sure?” Rudovsky was speaking just a tiny bit louder than a whisper. “We need to interview her. It would be nice to know what we are talking about.”

  “Well, I’ve seen these injuries many times, it looks to me like a typical battered wife scenario. She’s been kicked, punched, possibly stamped on. Her scalp is quite swollen as well, around the parietal ridges. I’d guess that her attacker pulled her hair, two fistfuls for a prolonged period. It’s quite possible that others were involved. In any case, the injuries that she has sustained came from a very vicious beating.”

  “Thanks, that’s really helpful.”

  “That’s okay, and it will all be logged on my report, along with my photos of the injuries.”

  “Brilliant. Nice one. Cheers.” Rudovsky opened the door and went back inside the medical room. “Alright?” she asked. Kathy just nodded
. She looked close to tears, and she was shaking quite noticeably too.

  “I’m fine. So what happens now?”

  “We need to talk to you, as soon as possible really, on tape.”

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t know Kathy.”

  “I just want to get out of here. I want to be alone.” “Shall we get started now, then?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  * * *

  “The time is eleven thirty-two. My name is Detective Constable Jo Rudovsky. I am joined by my colleague Detective Chief Inspector Andrew Miller, and we are Manchester City Police officers, conducting this witness statement at Shepherd’s Bush police station, in the city of London. We are conducting this witness statement in the form of an investigative interview with our witness Kathy Hopkirk. The purpose is to find out if any crimes have been committed against Kathy Hopkirk, and also to find out where Kathy has been over the past seven days, while our officers have been searching for her. Kathy, you are not under arrest, and you are free to leave at any time. Do you understand what I’ve just said?”

  “Yes.” She was staring down at the floor.

  “Okay Kathy, we’ll start with the basics if that’s okay. Where have you been for the past week?”

  “I’ve been at Piers Marshall’s house, in Belsize Park.”

  “Was that for the whole time?”

  “Yes, since Thursday night.” Still no eye contact.

  “And can you tell us, Kathy, why you were at Piers Marshall’s house?”

  “I can. Piers and I are lovers. I was planning to move in with him, and we were going to start a new life together.”

  Rudovsky turned to face Miller who was sitting by her side. He read the look that she gave him perfectly well. It meant “oh-for-fuck’s-sake, we’re-not-getting-back-home-today, Sir. Bollocks.”

  Miller asked the next question. “Were you aware of the impact that your disappearance was having in the news?”

  “Yes, and I got very scared that I was going to be in trouble for wasting police time, so I panicked and just ignored the issue.”

  “Could Piers not have phoned us, and informed us of the circumstances? To let us know that you were okay?”

  “I wanted to phone my husband, Jack, and tell him first, but I was too scared.”

  “Kathy, could you tell us how you came by the injuries that you’ve sustained?”

  “I tripped up and fell down some stairs.”

  “Can you talk us through what happened?”

  “Well, I was coming down the stairs,”

  “Where was this?”

  “At Piers’ house. I tripped, and fell, and banged my head a few times. It looks worse than it was.”

  “Was it the staircase that we saw earlier, when we came to Piers’ house?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you explain how your hair has almost been ripped out of your scalp on both sides of your head, just above your ears?”

  “No. It must have happened when I fell down the stairs.”

  “Were you at Piers Marshall’s house for the entirety of the week?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how did you travel to Piers’ house?”

  “He picked me up in his car.”

  “From Manchester?”

  “Yes.”

  “Whereabouts?”

  “The Midland, where I was staying.”

  “And you went straight down to London, and stayed in his house for the week?”

  “That’s right. So, sorry about all the fuss, but can I go now, please?”

  “Where to?”

  “I just want to… I just want to go.”

  “Where to Kathy?”

  “Anywhere.”

  “What about Piers’ house?”

  “Yes, fine.”

  “Do you not want to go home and speak to Jack? He’s been very worried.”

  “No. It’s fine. Jack and I are finished.”

  “Kathy, we’re nearly done, thank you for your patience, we really do appreciate your co-operation.”

  “It’s fine.”

  Suddenly, Kathy seemed to have gained a bit of confidence. This was going well for her, and it seemed to the detectives that she felt that she had the upper-hand. Miller looked at Rudovsky, then at Kathy, and back at his DC, requesting permission to speak. He wanted to cause a bit of an earth-quake in here. Rudovsky nodded, offering him free reign.

  “Can you tell me what you know about Janet Croft?”

  “Who?” There was a slight jolt. Kathy’s new found confidence had stalled.

  “Janet Croft.” Miller was smiling, ever the charmer.

  “That name doesn’t ring any bells with me. Do I know her?” Kathy’s face seemed to be heating up a little now, her cheeks were reddening, quite quickly. Her ears looked as though they were heating up too.

  “Are you too hot?” asked Miller.

  “No, I’m fine…”

  “You’ve gone bright red. You look like a traffic light.” Rudovsky was grinning, trying to force a smile from Kathy.

  There was no smile. “I’m fine. Now, what were you asking me…”

  “We were asking you about Janet.” Miller was still smiling, this was all very light-hearted. At least that’s how Miller and Rudovsky had been trying to present it.

  “Janet? No, I don’t think…” Kathy was struggling to make this look convincing. The two detectives were used to seeing this kind of expression. The “act-surprised and-pretend-you-don’t-know” face. Every suspect did it, and they all did it in exactly the same way too. It was very easy to spot.

  “So you don’t know anybody by the name of Janet Croft.” Miller’s voice suddenly sounded a little bit colder.

  “No, I don’t have any idea who that is.”

  Miller turned to his DC and started talking quietly. He knew that Kathy could hear him, but he tried to make out as if she couldn’t.

  “Jo, can I take five please? I’m really tired, and I need some rest. I’m just going to get a can of pop from the machine. While I’m gone, can you please tell Kathy everything we know about Piers, about Janet, about Bob Francis, and mention that her husband Jack and manager Sally have both voluntarily enrolled themselves on the Witness Protection programme. Don’t forget to mention that Janet has been murdered, and that if Kathy doesn’t start remembering things by the time I get back, we’ll have to assume that she was the one who helped Piers Marshall kill Janet Croft, and we’ll start building our case to that effect, we’ve already got enough to charge her anyway.”

  “Is that everything?” said Rudovsky quietly, whilst making notes.

  “No. Inform her that Bob Francis has died this morning, around about the time you knocked her and her lover Piers out of bed.” With that, Miller stood to leave. Kathy slumped in the chair. Her plan A was snookered and everybody in the room knew it. “Back in a bit,” said Miller as he closed the interview room door behind him, winking at Rudovsky.

  “Well,” said Rudovsky, blowing out a huge gust of air. “I’d advise you to ditch this stupid story, and start telling us the truth Kathy, or he’ll have you banged up on remand in Wormwood Scrubs by tea-time chucky-egg.”

  Chapter 52

  Saunders was sat on the balcony of the Travelodge, he was talking on his phone, attempting to be as quiet as possible. He had the double-glazed door firmly closed, but the rumbling of his voice still managed to wake Grant up.

  “Hi,” she said, as she slid the door open and looked out at the view, which wasn’t very much, just the back of another concrete and glass hotel.

  “Oh, alright?” said Saunders, with the phone still at his ear. He looked surprised to see Grant awake. She yawned and did a big massive stretch, and as she did so, her t-shirt lifted up and she revealed a bit of her tummy. It made Saunders’ heart skip a beat. He began to blush.

  “Time is it?” asked Grant, but Saunders started talking on the phone again.


  “Yeah, I’m still here Bill, right, nice one. Are you sure? Aw mate, that is absolutely top banana. I owe you a pint, and I‘ll even kiss your fod when I give it to you. No, no, steady on now Bill.”

  Grant started grinning and turned, heading back into the hotel room. Saunders couldn’t take his eyes off her pyjama bottoms as she casually strutted away. She caught him looking at her bum as she turned around to offer him a brew, using the shaky hand gesture. He blushed again and replied using the thumb.

  “No, seriously Bill, that’s all we need. If you can e-mail all that across to me in the next five minutes, that will be the icing on the cake. Cheers mate, I really appreciate it.”

  Saunders did an air-grab as he stood up from the chair. He wandered into the hotel room, where Grant was checking her phone. “No way is it one’ o’clock? I feel like I’ve slept longer than that, what… four hours?”

  “Three.”

  “How long have you had?” asked Grant as she

  waited by the kettle. “Why are they always dead slow, these hotel kettles?”

  “I don’t know. Google it.”

  “I might actually. Go on then, tell me, how long did you sleep for?”

  “Oh, I had about an hour. I don’t sleep much when I’m in the middle of a big case like this. I’ve got this weird thing where I can get by on hardly any sleep for ages, and then bang, I just snore my head off for about eighteen hours solid once the case is closed!”

  “I wish I could do that. I get really emotional when I’m over-tired. So if I ask for a hug later, you know why…”

  Saunders blushed again. “Hey, listen, I hope we can…”

  “What?” Grant turned away and started putting the tea bags in the cups.

  “Last night, the ‘date-night’ that was so rudely interrupted. I hope we can try again?”

  “Why what was wrong with the one we had?”

  “Well, nowt, but it was cut a bit short, having to race to HQ and jump on the helicopter.”