by Lisa Cutts
Jenny held her head high and the only telltale signs, other than being flanked by a woman in uniform with keys on a long chain hanging on her belt, were the bags under Jenny’s eyes. She took the oath in a loud and clear voice, Bible held high in her hand, and, in the way that came naturally to her, she held the room’s attention.
‘Why did you go to Linda Bowman’s house in the early hours of Monday the 5th of June?’
‘I wanted to speak to her – that’s all,’ said Jenny audibly, but managing to keep her volume down. The chances were that she had been told not to come across as too confident as jurors wouldn’t like it. Confident women plotted to murder people. Women who kept themselves to themselves were more likely to be the poor unfortunate victims of circumstance. She wasn’t slow to learn and smiled shyly at the jury on the two rows of seats to the judge’s left-hand side, focusing mainly on the five women.
‘That was all I wanted to do. Talk to her. She had been leading my son on. What mother wouldn’t want to do the right thing for her son?’
She took a pause and looked humble, right on cue. Two of the women on the jury, both themselves no doubt mothers, leaned their heads to one side and their faces softened.
‘And when you got there, what did Linda Bowman say to you?’
‘She opened the front door and laughed. She said, “Oh it’s you. You’d better come in too.” I didn’t know what she meant at the time by “You’d better come in too”.’
‘And later what did you take that to mean?’
‘Well, it was obvious,’ said Jenny, a little annoyance coming through in her voice, before she checked herself and carried on with her act. ‘I realized before too long that she meant that my son, Aiden, was already there.’
‘When did you first see him?’
‘Not for some time – a couple of minutes, I suppose. Had I known that he was there, I wouldn’t have felt so frightened of her and done what I did.’
‘We’ll come on to that in a moment. How did the conversation go between you and Linda Bowman?’
‘I asked her to leave my son alone. To stop messing with him. I knew about it, you see, because I had overheard him on the phone talking to her when he didn’t know I was about. I was worried for him and saw a change in him, chasing after her. Having a girlfriend is one thing, but this was an older, much older woman and his best friend’s mother. It was wrong and disgusting.’
She bowed her head and added, ‘What kind of a mother would do that?’
‘What was Linda’s reaction to you asking her to leave your son alone?’
‘She got angry and she shouted at me. I’ve seen Linda lose her temper before and she has – had a tendency to fly off the handle to the point where I’ve thought she was going to hit someone. That day, she did slap me around the face.’
As she said these words to the jury, she tilted her head to look over her left shoulder in the direction of where Travis was seated. He in turn sat forward on his seat and opened his mouth as if to say something. Hazel whispered to him, ‘You’re doing OK, Travis.’
He sat back in his seat and used what was left of his thumbnail to pick at the cuticles of his bitten fingers.
He sat and listened, that morning’s warning from Hazel still fresh in his mind. He wasn’t to react, call out or give anyone any reason to think that he was attempting to win the jury over by his behaviour. Their job was to listen to the facts and be guided by the judge, but right now, he could see that Jenny was getting them on side and he couldn’t stand to think where that might be heading.
‘I was scared of her, to be honest,’ continued Jenny, tearing Travis’s world into smaller pieces than he thought possible. ‘I saw Milton from time to time with scratch marks on him and once he told me that Linda did it. She said to me that morning that they’d had a fight before he left and I thought, if she wasn’t afraid of a man, she certainly wouldn’t be afraid of me.
‘I’d gone there to reason with her, to ask her to leave Aiden alone, but she was threatening me and she had a hammer within her reach on the worktop. I could see it and she saw me looking at it. We both went for it at the same moment and I got there first. I hit her. I hit the back of her head to save myself. If I hadn’t done it, she would have attacked me, I know it. It was self-defence.’
There were tears now, not only from Jenny but from Travis. Hazel passed him a tissue, not for the first time that day, and as she did so, she caught Aiden’s eye, not fully able to work out his expression. It was fleeting but if she wasn’t very much mistaken, he looked relieved.
Chapter 87
When the court broke for lunch, Hazel left Travis with his aunt and uncle. They had tried to get to the court for as much of the trial as they could, making their own way there and back. She needed to speak to DCI Venice and DI Philbert, but equally, she needed to get away from Travis at least once a day. He was her responsibility, but even so each day was draining her a little more.
She had the weekend off and was looking forward to spending it with Harry, although she knew now that the likelihood would be that Jenny wouldn’t finish giving her evidence until Monday, leaving Travis very much in limbo for two days. There was nothing that anyone could do about that; the best she could hope for was that, when she texted the young man on each of her days off, he responded quickly and didn’t give her too much cause for concern.
Squeezing herself into the police room, two walls lined with bookcases bursting with statement files, documents and lists of exhibits, and stepping over brown heavy-duty cardboard boxes containing all manner of paperwork, Hazel saw that apart from Doug Philbert and Tom Delayhoyde, the room also contained the prosecution QC and Harry.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.
It seemed a little wrong to see him at work but out of the usual context of the police station. He looked slightly awkward too as though he wasn’t sure how to address her in front of another DI and a DC.
‘I thought I’d come and see how things were going,’ he said, coffee cup in hand. He waved it at her. ‘And scrounge a free drink whilst I’m here.’
‘If you’re offering,’ she said. ‘I’ve got time. Travis has gone to get something to eat with his family.’
‘Bloody hell,’ said Harry. ‘Pop in to see how you are and now I’m making a bloody brew.’
He got up to switch the kettle on and winked at her as Doug left the room to answer a call on his mobile. At such a stage in the trial, there was little more for any of the police officers at court to do, except watch the defendants give evidence, hear the prosecution and defence speeches, hear what the judge had to say in summary to the jury, and then wait for the jury to deliver its verdict. Tom was now the only other police officer in the room who wasn’t making eyes at someone.
He mumbled something about calling his wife who was only weeks away from giving birth, and left the room.
Oblivious to what was going on between the two officers, the QC removed his black gown and went in search of a sandwich, leaving the two of them alone.
‘This is romantic,’ said Hazel.
‘You’ll have to wait a moment,’ said Harry. ‘I can’t hear you over this fucking kettle. What a noisy bastard it is.’
It reached boiling and switched itself off.
‘What did you say?’ Harry asked over his shoulder as he poured water onto a tea bag for her.
‘It doesn’t matter. Do we have plans for tonight?’ she said.
‘I’ve been thinking about this.’ He concentrated on squeezing the life out of the tea bag and sought out the milk, sniffing the contents of the carton before pouring it into her cup.
Over the last few months, Hazel had got used to interpreting Harry’s ways and felt sure she had cracked his code. He was about to tell her something that she wasn’t going to think was a particularly good idea, and then he was going to use maximum effort to convince her otherwise. At least it heralded something he cared about, so she would listen and give it some thought before telling him wh
y it was a terrible idea. She had learned that immediate refusal of his suggestions would only mean that he would go away, arm himself with the facts, albeit that they only showed his side of the argument, and wear her down until she gave in. Hazel’s way meant that he thought she was giving it serious consideration, even though her mind had been made up before he’d finished his first sentence.
‘I had this idea,’ he said, handing her the tea. ‘Hear me out before you say a word. I was thinking that we could ask Travis for dinner tonight.’
A pain crept across her forehead.
She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose, wondering whether she could wash down headache tablets with scalding-hot tea.
This was the end of week five of the trial and Hazel was exhausted. She understood that whatever she was feeling Travis was suffering a lot more. Her stress would be over in a week or two, whereas his ordeal would follow him for the rest of his life. She fully understood that, to her, this was a murder that had destroyed lives, but at the end of it all, it would be another slice of human misery from the pie that would last her forty years of policing. Between now and the end of her service, hundreds more would be along. This one would stick in her mind, but it wasn’t the first and it wouldn’t be the last. She had survived for this long by distancing herself when off duty and limiting the time she thought about investigations. Harry didn’t seem to get that.
‘I feel it’s the least I can do for Linda,’ she heard him say. Only then did she realize that she still had her eyes shut.
Against her better judgement, she nodded and said, ‘Sure. Ask him to dinner, but you’re cooking.’
He stepped towards her and kissed the side of her face. ‘You’re a remarkably kind person, Hazel Hamilton,’ he said into her ear.
That was the last thing she felt like right then. All she wanted to do was go home and put the day’s emotion behind her. Inviting it to dinner wasn’t helping her sanity one little bit.
Chapter 88
Evening of Friday 24 November
‘Toad-in-the-hole,’ said Hazel, peeking through the glass oven door. ‘Good choice. Everyone likes toad-in-the-hole, Harry. Well, except for vegetarians.’
‘And toads,’ said Harry, opening himself a bottle of beer.
‘As long as you haven’t actually used real toads,’ said Hazel, getting knives and forks out of the drawer and turning to take them to the living room.
He stopped her with an outstretched arm, folding her into his chest. She breathed in his scent, cutlery getting between them as they held on to one another.
‘Thanks for doing this, Haze. I don’t mean digging me in the nipple with that dessert fork.’
She laughed into his cotton shirt, face against the buttons.
‘I know it’s been a long few weeks for you,’ he continued. ‘I appreciate it and I’m sure that Travis does, or will one day.’
She sighed and moved her head back to look up at him. ‘I’ll be the first to admit that I could have done without this tonight. I’ve been with him for weeks on end and it’s really wearing me down, but he doesn’t really have anyone now apart from his aunt and uncle, does he? Is he going to be all right?’
‘Yes, yes he is. We’ll make sure he is. Now let’s get on with this or he’ll be here before we know it.’
When the doorbell sounded twenty minutes later Harry threw open the door and almost lifted Travis off the step before he pulled him into the hallway.
‘So great to see you,’ he said, pumping his hand before abandoning one greeting for another and embracing Travis to him again.
From the kitchen, Hazel saw the expression on Travis’s face as he was bear-hugged by Harry. As she watched him digging his fingers into Harry’s arms and forcing himself not to cry, she had an image of the three of them spending the entire evening crying if she didn’t do her best to stop it right away.
‘Hi there,’ she said, walking towards Travis. ‘Thank you for coming over.’
‘Thanks for the invite,’ he said as Hazel leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.
‘Come on through,’ said Harry. ‘I’m sorting dinner so Hazel can get you a drink.’
‘Oh, I bought a bottle of wine,’ said Travis, holding up a hand up to his forehead. ‘I must have left it behind.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Harry, calling back to their guest as he walked towards the kitchen. ‘Make yourself at home. Want a beer?’
‘Yes please,’ he said, following Hazel into the living room.
She held the door open for him and as he stepped past her he stopped and said, ‘Ages ago, just after my mum was killed, we spoke about Harry. I’m not sure if you remember our conversation.’
She had no doubt where he was going with this, but chose to make out that she had no idea what he meant.
‘Conversation?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know if you were seeing Harry at the time but I told you that he liked my mum. I’m embarrassed now and realize that was out of order. I wouldn’t have said it. I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just that he’s a good bloke – one of the best. He always does the right thing, whatever the consequences.’
She listened, aware of how much the last six months had aged him, but not in a maturing and growing way. Rather in a manner that spoke of being exposed to too much far too soon.
‘It’s fine,’ she said quietly. ‘Beer, was it?’
At the second nod of his head, she went to get three bottles of beer from the fridge and to watch her boyfriend as he sang the Pink Panther theme tune and added carrots to a pan of boiling water.
There was no mistaking Harry’s decency but one day it would get the better of him.
Chapter 89
Monday 27 November
The rest of the weekend rushed by and before Hazel knew it, it was time to go back to work. She made the journey to pick up Travis from his home and take him to court once more.
The drive was probably the most relaxed they had shared since the trial began, either because a couple of days before they had got to know each other a little more over sausages in batter mix, or because Harry had worked his magic and put Travis’s mind at ease over a lot of the court procedures and likely outcomes. Hazel had explained everything to him but when Harry went over the exact same thing, Travis hung on every word with a look of reverence. It was to be expected, she supposed: they had known each other for a very long time and she knew from what he’d told her that Travis had loved being with Harry and his sons when they were all much younger.
Whatever the outcome of today, Jenny would finish giving her evidence and they would all find out very soon whether she was about to be followed into the witness box by her son.
Hazel parked and they made their way towards the front of the building, up the steps to security. As she had done a couple of times before, she pulled Travis out of the queue when two members of the jury stood in line behind them. He had got used to the drill now and knew that under no circumstances should he speak to any of them, even if he found himself in the gents’ standing at a urinal next to one of them. Although he had tried to point out to Hazel that in the toilets men didn’t tend to strike up conversations with other men, especially if they were mid-flow.
As they stood waiting for a chance to join the snake of people waiting to be searched, Hazel said, ‘Thanks for what you said on Friday about Harry liking your mum. I know it can’t have been easy for you to talk about her that way.’
He shrugged and cast an eye over the diminishing line of people. ‘It’s OK. He is a good bloke. That’s more than I can say for my dad. I’m gutted that he’s not here, but there’s no denying, he could be a bit of a dick. I’d even seen him trying to flirt around Jenny on occasion. Pretty ironic as it seems that she killed my mum and my dad was all but dead at the time.’
Hazel stood for a moment, envying smokers for having something to do with their hands in such a situation.
‘My mum had been on at him for ages to fix something
in the loft,’ said Travis, kicking a stone along with the toe of his shoe. ‘He never had time to do that sort of thing but he went to Jenny’s a couple of times to do stuff around the house and he went to help some woman across the street when she had a leak coming through her roof. No time for my mum though.’
Hazel looked down at him as he scratched the paving slab with the jagged edge of the stone.
‘Shall we go inside now?’ was all she said.
As Travis and Hazel sat in their usual seats the defendant on trial for murder sashayed her way to the witness stand and began to entrance the jury. The question and answer session was to grip everyone in the court as it had the previous Friday.
‘How was your relationship with Milton Bowman?’
‘Good, very good, I’d say. We’d known each other for some time, about the same time I’d known his wife Linda. My son and their son, Travis, were best friends from school so we all met up every so often. I saw more of Linda when the children were much younger, of course. Over the last four or five years, we hadn’t seen each other as much.’
‘The court is already aware of Mr Bowman’s sad and tragic death as a result of a traffic accident, but prior to his death, when did you last see him?’
For the first time while under oath Jenny paused to give an answer.
‘I think . . . I think it was about a week before his horrible accident. I’d bumped into him one day in East Rise town centre. I was in a bit of a state because I’d bought a new dishwasher and they were supposed to deliver it and install it. Because it had a hose extension or something, they wouldn’t do it. The men who delivered it said that they couldn’t do it in case it leaked. I had people coming over for dinner so I needed to find a hardware shop. I was hoping someone there might come out and fix it.’
‘And what happened when you saw Milton Bowman?’
‘He asked how I was. I told him and I was very flustered. He had always been kind to me and said that he would fix it. Then he asked me what tools I had at home.’