by M J Lee
They decided this time Ridpath would ask the questions and Emily would take notes.
Daniel was brought into the room by Ruby Grimes at exactly seven thirty. ‘I’ve told him you want to ask a few more questions. If at any time he wants to leave and go back to watch television, all he has to do is tell me and I will immediately stop the interview.’
Daniel eyed them suspiciously before sitting in the same seat as before in front of the camera. ‘I’ve already answered your questions, why do I have to be here again?’
Ridpath smiled tentatively. ‘I’m sorry, Dan, we need to clarify a few matters and give you some news.’
‘What news? Is it about my dad? Can I go home?’
‘Let’s just ask a few questions and then I’ll let you know, OK?’
Daniel nodded once and looked away.
Ridpath indicated with a wave of his hand that Chrissy should begin recording. Again, the machine started with a loud click and a whirr. ‘Sorry, same old police, same old machines.’
‘It is exactly 7.30 p.m. on 9 August, and we are back in Ford Avenue children’s home to interview Daniel Carsley. This is the second recorded interview of this witness today. In the room are myself, Detective Inspector Thomas Ridpath, Detective Sergeant Emily Parkinson, the residential social worker, Ruby Grimes, and a police civilian support officer, Chrissy Wright, operating the recording equipment.’ A second’s pause as Ridpath caught his breath. ‘Now, Dan, I’m going to show you some footage and I would like you to tell me who is on the tape. Do you understand? For the record, I am now going to show Daniel Carsley a video on my laptop.’
On the way down to the children’s home, Chrissy had quickly edited the footage from the ATM just to show the time when David was in front of the ATM, cutting out the later footage of the white car.
Ridpath pressed play and Daniel leant forward to look closely. ‘That’s Dave. Where did you get this?’
‘Are you sure it’s David Carsley?’
‘I know my own brother. Where did you get it?’
Ridpath ignored the question. ‘Would you like to see it again to be sure?’
Daniel nodded.
‘I am now showing the witness the same footage again.’
Daniel leant even further forward. ‘That’s my brother. He’s wearing the same clothes as the day…’
His voice trailed off as he realised where the footage came from.
Ridpath pushed on, not wanting to lose momentum. ‘I’m now going to show a second piece of footage, marked as item 2. Dan, do you recognise the car in this tape?’
Ridpath pressed play, revealing the footage from the tram taken on the day David’s body was found.
Daniel shook his head. ‘We don’t have a car in Manchester. Dad doesn’t know how to drive. Mum drove all the time when we were in Scotland.’
‘You don’t recognise it?’
‘Nah, never seen it before. Why? What is it?’
Ridpath continued. ‘One last question and then we’ll be finished.’ He pressed a key on the laptop and a picture came up. ‘These are Dave’s briefs. You told the police earlier he was wearing them on the day he disappeared.’
‘Yeah, I remember seeing them.’
‘The police found them in your house, earlier today. How could they be in the house if he was wearing them?’
Daniel’s eyes moved left and right as he considered the question. ‘He must have taken them off.’
‘Why would he take them off?’
‘Dad.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Dad was always telling Dave off for not changing his underwear, but there was never any clean ones. We used to take them off and hide them to wash later ourselves. Same with our socks. Dad never had the time.’
‘Did you see him take them off?’
‘Why would I watch my brother get changed?’
‘I mean, did you know he had taken them off?’
‘No.’ He turned to Ruby Grimes. ‘Can I go now?’
The social worker looked at Ridpath who nodded his head, saying, ‘The interview ends at 7.40 p.m. on 9 August.’ He waved at Chrissy to stop the taping. ‘Just one more thing, Dan, before you go.’ Ridpath took a deep breath. ‘I have to tell you your dad, Michael Carsley, may be charged with murder this evening.’
‘Murder? Why? Who did he kill?’
Ridpath took another breath. ‘He may be charged with the murder of your brother, David Carsley.’
‘But that’s impossible. Dad loved Dave.’ Pain was etched on his face. ‘You’ve got it wrong, Dad would never hurt Dave. Dad was at home all the time.’
‘I think we should go now, Dan.’ Ruby Grimes took his arm and gently stood the boy up.
‘You’re wrong, Dad would never hurt Dave.’
‘I think you’re right, Dan, that’s why we’re going to do our best to make sure your dad is not charged.’
‘I don’t believe you, I don’t believe you!’ He was struggling now as Ruby Grimes tried to take him out of the room. ‘You’re lying, you’re all lying. The police are liars.’
The door opened and another social worker rushed in to help Ruby. Together, they managed to usher Daniel out and up the stairs.
All the time he was shouting. ‘You’re lying, you’re all lying! My da wouldnae hurt Dave. You polis are lying, you’re all liars.’
Chapter 71
They could still hear the boy shouting and screaming as he was carried upstairs until the sound was gradually swallowed up by the thick walls.
Inside the room, nobody said anything.
Ridpath picked up his mobile phone and rang Claire Trent. ‘Daniel has confirmed the boy in the ATM footage is the murder victim, David Carsley.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘We have the confirmation on tape.’
‘Right.’ A pause followed by, ‘The underwear, did you confirm that David Carsley took them off himself?’
‘Daniel didn’t see him taking his underwear off, but he said they used to do it all the time. Their dad didn’t wash them often enough so they did it themselves.’
‘Right.’
‘We also showed Daniel footage of the white car. He didn’t recognise it, said he hadn’t seen it before.’
‘OK.’
‘What’s going to happen?’
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone, before Claire Trent spoke again. ‘I am going to order Paul Turnbull to release Michael Carsley pending further enquiries.’
‘Thank you, boss. Can I tell the social worker?’
‘Yes, he will be released this evening.’
Ridpath smiled, giving a thumbs-up to Chrissy and Emily Parkinson. ‘Great, I’ll let them know.’
‘I wouldn’t be too happy, Ridpath.’
‘Why, boss? It’s great news.’
‘It means we have a child-killer out there who, according to the criminal profiler, is going to strike again – and, after two weeks, we don’t have a clue who it is. We will have a team briefing tomorrow morning at eight a.m. Be there.’
The phone went dead in Ridpath’s hand.
Chapter 72
Molly Wright was typing furiously on her laptop. The police had given her a wonderful opportunity. Releasing Michael Carsley after interviewing him for over a day was a godsend.
The gloves were off now.
She could kick Trent and Turnbull and Ridpath and all the rest of them from here to Southern Cemetery.
Her source had told her they were scrambling. Desperately trying to find new angles to investigate. After more than two weeks they had nothing.
No suspects.
No leads.
No lines of enquiry.
All they had was a white car that may or may not have been involved in the abduction.
Pathetic.
She checked over what she had written. The tone was just right; a mixture of restrained fury and articulate sadness.
The editor would lap it up and come crawling on his be
lly for seconds. With a bit of luck, she could keep this going long enough to make enough money to tell them all to fuck off. The book about the murder would be the icing on the cake. Of course, she would make sure she was the star. After all, it was her story as much as anybody else’s.
Publishers would be queuing up for the inside story of the hunt for a child-killer. Now, if she could also meet him? A tingle went down her spine. You had to be talking about a bestseller; book tours, TV interviews, the Richard and Judy book club, even morning TV with Piers Morgan or Kay Burley. It was all there for the taking.
What this article needed was a good headline. She could wait for the subs to do it or she could help the process along and give them a narrative to work with.
She finished off the glass of Rioja and poured some more. Time to go easy on the sauce tonight. She needed to get this done and dusted. Her deadline was only an hour away.
She read through her last paragraph. She wrote angry extremely well. Perhaps because it was always bubbling up inside her, ready to explode. Now she had an excuse to let it roam free with all its savage verbosity.
And then it came to her. The one word headline she needed:
INCOMPETENCE
English was a beautiful language.
Chapter 73
‘You did well today, Ridpath.’
He was back at home, a cup of cold tea in his hand, sitting in the living room.
Polly was in front of him on the couch, her black hair dyed a deep green, exactly the same as the day they had met all those years ago. It was 17 March, St Patrick’s Day, and he and some friends had gone to a Chinese restaurant to line their stomachs with some stodge before a night out in town on the lash. Polly had been their waitress. On an impulse, Ridpath had asked her to meet them later at One Central Street followed by a trip to Nick the Greek’s. For some reason, she had turned up and the rest was history.
‘Did I? It doesn’t feel like it. I interviewed a young boy who didn’t know his answers could possibly send his father to jail for life.’
‘But the answers didn’t, they helped clear his father.’
‘And next time? Will the next boy I interview help convict his father?’
‘You always said it was part of the job, remember? “Find the truth”, you used to say to me.’
Ridpath grimaced. ‘“The truth is out there.” Wasn’t that the tagline of some awful TV series you used to watch.’
‘X-Files. And Mulder and Scully weren’t awful, they were simply confused.’
‘Like me, you mean?’
‘You’re not confused, just a little obsessive.’
‘My obsessions cost you your life.’
‘Don’t blame yourself. You didn’t pull the trigger. You didn’t shoot the gun. You did your job and stopped a man from killing seven people. A woman who couldn’t accept the fact her son was a killer pulled the trigger.’ She pulled aside her white shirt to reveal an unblemished chest. ‘See? The wounds have healed.’
‘Mine haven’t.’ A long pause. ‘I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Polly.’
‘What else would you do?’
The truth was he didn’t know. He had been a policeman working for GMP or working with the coroner for so long, he could think of nothing else. Finally, he said, ‘I could be a teacher like you.’
She laughed. ‘The first stroppy teenager who gives you some lip, you’d slap the cuffs on and charge them with insubordination.’
He smiled. ‘Teachers can do that, can’t they?’
‘Seriously, Ridpath, you know what you have to do now.’
He nodded. ‘Find the killer.’
‘Got it in one. But before you do that, you’d better ring Eve. Remember you’re supposed to lay flowers on my grave with her tomorrow.’
‘Shit, I’d forgotten.’
‘She hasn’t. She never forgets.’
Chapter 74
The FaceTime call was answered almost immediately. ‘Hi Eve.’
‘Hi Dad, I was waiting for you to call.’
‘I guessed. Sorry, it’s a bit late again.’
‘That’s OK. I checked on Ah Kung and Paw Paw and they are fast asleep. Ah Kung is snoring so loud he could wake King Arthur beneath Alderley Edge.’
‘How do you know that story?’
‘We learnt it years ago, Dad. There’s an army sleeping beneath Alderley Edge led by King Arthur. If England is ever in great trouble, Merlin will wake them and they will ride to our rescue.’
‘Do you believe it?’
She laughed. ‘Not really, but it’s a good story and we all have to have something to believe in, don’t we? White knights, castles, maidens in distress, all that stuff.’
‘You’re reading about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, aren’t you?’
She laughed again. A high, unrestrained laugh. ‘How did you guess? Ah Kung and Paw Paw leave me alone when they see me reading.’
There was a silence for a moment before Ridpath said, ‘I have something to tell you.’
‘You can’t make tomorrow, can you?’
‘How did you guess?’
‘I’m a detective’s daughter, remember?’
‘I have to work.’
‘Your case? Are you back on it?’
‘I think so. Can we go another time? I’d really like to go with you and see Mum.’
‘OK, we can go midweek when it’s quiet and there’s nobody there.’ Another pause. ‘Dad, do you often think of Mum?’
‘Every day, sweetie.’
‘Same here. I suppose we’ll never stop thinking about her.’
‘I hope we never do, Eve. We’ll keep her alive in our hearts and our memories for ever.’
‘I like that idea.’
‘And remember she’s always part of you.’
‘At least half of me.’
‘So she lives on. You just have to make her proud. We both have to make her proud.’
‘We will, Dad.’
‘I’ll call you tomorrow.’
‘OK, and Dad…’
‘Yes…’
‘Be careful, won’t you. I don’t think I can handle losing both of you.’
‘Don’t worry, I will.’
The screen faded to black.
‘How did I do?’
‘Not bad,’ answered Polly from the couch. ‘I don’t think you need me any more, do you?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Bye, Ridpath.’
‘Poll, don’t go…’
But she had already vanished.
On the Sixth Day
Sunday, August 10
Chapter 75
The following morning Ridpath drove to Police HQ. He’d spent a night tossing and turning, his mind in turmoil, searching for possible angles he had missed.
Even though it was Sunday, the Situation Room on the MIT floor was packed when he walked in. For today, the regulations concerning social distancing seemed to be forgotten. He looked for a place to sit but they were all occupied, so he walked to the back and leant against the wall, pulling out his notebook.
A sharp clap and Claire Trent was standing at the front. Next to her, a subdued Paul Turnbull was sitting upright. Even from where he was standing, Ridpath could see the blue vein on the man’s bald head throbbing.
‘Listen up, everyone,’ she began, ‘we’re going back to basics on this investigation. To bring everyone up to speed, last night we released our one and only suspect, Michael Carsley, after we were made aware of new evidence.’
Ridpath heard the passive voice in her statement and wondered what it meant.
A hand went up from the middle of the detectives. ‘What new evidence, boss?’
‘We’ll get to that in a minute. For the moment, let us just say that the evidence made it pretty clear that Michael Carsley was not responsible for the abduction and murder of his son.’
‘Have you seen the papers this morning?’ It was the PR person assigned to the case, Sarah Hampson. She
held up a raft of local and national newspapers, each of which had the case on their front pages.
POLICE INTERVIEW AND RELEASE MICHAEL CARSLEY from the Guardian.
FATHER OF DEAD BOY RELEASED by the Manchester Evening News.
GREATER MANCHESTER POLTROONS in the Express.
COCK-UP OVER CARSLEY from the Sun.
The worst was from the Mail:
INCOMPETENCE by Molly Wright.
‘Sorry, I tried to stop these headlines but once a story goes viral and a narrative sets in, it’s hard to stop.’
‘Change the bloody narrative, then,’ snarled Turnbull.
The PR person went bright red. ‘These attacks in the press won’t stop until you make an arrest. It’s even knocked Covid off the front pages.’
‘Thank God for that, if I have to read another article about wearing face masks and washing my hands, I’ll throw a wobbly,’ said Harry Makepeace.
‘Don’t bother, mate,’ said a voice from the back. ‘Just drive to Barnard Castle to check your eyes.’
Claire Trent held her hands up to stop them talking. ‘Sarah is right. These attacks won’t stop until we find the man responsible for this murder… until you find the man responsible.’ She pointed at the assembled detectives and paused to let her message sink in.
Ridpath noticed Emily Parkinson sitting down at the front, taking notes. She hadn’t looked in his direction once. Chrissy was leaning on the wall opposite; she saw him watching her and waved.
Claire Trent continued. ‘As I said at the beginning, we’re going back to basics. I want every assumption questioned, every witness statement examined, every piece of evidence we have tested under a microscope. By this evening, I want to meet again with a full list of facts on this case plus a series of steps we need to follow moving forward.’ She turned to face Turnbull. ‘Paul, you will be in charge of the re-evaluation.’
He nodded once, the vein in his head still bright blue.
‘Once we have questioned everything, I believe it will open up new lines of enquiry which we can pursue.’
A hand went up. ‘You said there was new evidence, boss?’