Delayed & Denied

by J. J. Salkeld

  ‘He did, but he didn’t know what we know now, did he? And he did mention that he’d be in conference for the rest of the day, and since the Chief actually did use to be a real cop then maybe I’d have more luck with him.’

  Mann shook his head. ‘It’s still high risk, love. Why not just get Lee in here and put it all to him. Tell him what we know, and that there’ll be a retrial in the Burke case, most likely, so why not cough to both killings? Get it all off his chest, like.’

  ‘But that’s exactly Andy’s point. If Lee had any conscience he wouldn’t have let Adam Burke spend all those years inside, would he? No, Andy’s right. There’s no way that Lee will own up to either murder. He’s learned that, if he plays it cool, he’ll just slide on the Smith killing, just like he has on Sharon Burke.’

  ‘But what about the hotel sighting?’

  ‘He’ll just bluff it out. He’s got the brains not to deny it, and he knows that he mustn’t admit to an affair with Sharon Burke, so all he’d say is that they met for a drink, or whatever. He could even say that he doesn’t remember it happening at all. No, we need the exhumation, I’m afraid.’

  ‘The last nail in the coffin, like.’

  Mann grinned, and Jane shook her head.

  ‘Please don’t, love. This’ll be grim enough, without your gallows humour.’

  Jane was right. The cemetery was windswept and bleak, the rain was heavy, and Sandy Smith was in ebullient mood.

  ‘I love these’, she said, ‘especially when they’re still fresh, like.’

  ‘Will you need to remove the body?’ asked Jane.

  ‘No. You’re all right. You won’t even have to look. It’s an exhumation lite, is this one. Open the box, get the fluids, and away.’

  ‘How long until we know?’

  ‘Could be days until we’re absolutely certain, but the compounds that I’m thinking of, and the couple of others that the Home Office advisor suggested, we’ll know within the hour. Two, absolute tops.’

  ‘OK, thanks.’

  ‘No bother. Get’s me out of the lab, does this, like. By the way, I had that twat on the phone earlier.’

  ‘Which twat?’

  Sandy laughed. ‘Aye, that doesn’t narrow the field much, does it? The new ACC, it was. All braid and bollocks, that bloke is. Anyway, he was wanting us to stand down. So I told him to stuff it, like.’

  ‘You said what?’

  ‘I told him that the Chief had given the green light, and that the shovels were already in the ground.’

  ‘And were they?’

  Sandy laughed again. ‘Bloody hell, Jane. You’re like the Spanish Inquisition, you cops. And I do enjoy a good exhumation, me.’

  Jane turned off her phone for the drive home. She didn’t want to speak to the ACC until she knew whether or not her decision had been justified, and she was too tired to both drive and field calls anyway. And Andy must have been watching from the kitchen window, because he was outside, alongside her car door, before she even had her seat belt off.

  ‘The CCRB says it’s interesting, love. I think we might get a retrial for Adam Burke.’

  ‘Great. Does he know?’

  ‘Sarah spoke to him earlier.’

  ‘How did he take it?’

  ‘She said he just nodded, like he was expecting it.’

  ‘It probably hasn’t sunk in yet. And it’s all down to you, love.’

  ‘Ray Dixon, you mean. If that bloke had worked half as hard when he was in the job we’d have been tapping up other divisions for some of their work. He’s gone at it like a demon, honestly. And with a bit of luck it’ll help you nick Jack Lee for the Smith murder too. How long until you get the lab results?’

  ‘Should be anytime.’

  But it was almost midnight before Jane’s personal phone rang. Andy wasn’t even pretending to be asleep, and he sat up in bed while Jane spoke to Sandy.

  ‘Bugger. So you’re sure? No trace of anything?’

  ‘Nothing that we were looking for, no. It doesn’t mean that he didn’t kill her, not for certain, but if he did he’s got away with it.’

  ‘And what are the chances of that?’

  ‘A thousand to one against, at least.’

  ‘So it was natural causes?’

  ‘Aye. I’m sorry, love, but no-one pushed Mrs. Lee. She just fell off her own perch, like.’

  Jane rang off as soon as she could, and tried not to feel angry with Andy.

  ‘You’ve bloody dropped me in it now. The ACC is going to go mental when he finds out. The bastard’s an early riser, so he’s probably already at his desk.’

  ‘You did the right thing, love. I always thought it was a bit of a long shot…’

  ‘Well, you could have bloody said that before.’

  ‘…but if it had come off it would have been case closed, wouldn’t it? And try not to worry. Follow the process, keep everyone working at it, and you’ll get there. Because you know who the killer is now, don’t you?’

  ‘Do I, Andy? Are you totally, utterly, completely sure? Because I’m bloody not.’

  They both lay there in silence for a while, although barely two minutes later Jane was listening to Hall’s snoring.

  ‘You utter bastard’ she said, hoping that it would wake him. It didn’t, and when Grace started crying she just didn’t have the heart to wake him.

  Saturday, 18th August

  Whitehaven Police station

  DI Francis finished the team meeting, and phoned the ACC from the local DI’s office. When she came out her face was red, and her eyes were angry.

  ‘Right, Ian,’ she said, ‘where is Jack Lee? I’m ready for that little bastard.’

  ‘In reception, with his brief. Come all the way from Carlisle, apparently. The locals seem dead impressed.’

  ‘Big city lawyer, eh? Well, bring it on. I’m going to lead this time, if it’s all right with you.’

  ‘Be my guest. I’ll just sit there and look friendly, shall I?’

  Jane laughed. ‘Friendly like a wolf, maybe. But he’ll be no push-over. Andy may have been wrong about the bloke’s wife, but I bet you that Lee’ll play it cool. You just watch.’

  Jane was right. Lee was cool. When she told him that they had new information, relating to the Burke case, he didn’t even flinch.

  ‘I thought you were investigating the death of Jenny Smith. Isn’t that why I’m here? You’ve already dug up my poor wife, and all for nothing, wasn’t it?’

  ‘It’s already been explained to you, Mr. Lee.’

  ‘Aye, a court order, I know. But it’s a bloody witch-hunt, is this. And you live with that mad Andy Hall, don’t you?’

  ‘I don’t see what that’s got to do…’

  ‘He’s obsessed, that bloke. You ask anyone. He’s convinced himself that Adam couldn’t have killed his wife, which means I had to have done it. And you’re just as bad. Well, I’ll be making a complaint, a formal complaint.’

  ‘That’s your right, of course. But I want to take you back to the months before Sharon Burke died. Did you ever spend time alone with her?’

  ‘Aye, of course I did. We were friends, neighbours nearly. We often had a coffee. Me, the wife, Sharon, Adam sometimes too, though he was always an anti-social bugger, really.’

  ‘No, I meant just you and Sharon. Alone.’

  Lee thought for a moment. Was it a real memory being located, or a careful calculation that was going on?

  ‘Probably, aye. The odd time, maybe. But that’s not a bloody crime, is it?’

  ‘And where did these meetings take place? At your house? At the Burke’s?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Which?’

  ‘Both, I expect.’

  ‘And how about anywhere else? Is there anywhere else that you two would have met, alone, in the weeks before her death?’

  Another pause. ‘Oh, I get it. When we met at the Old Manor that time, is it?’ Jane didn’t reply. ‘Oh, aye, we met there. Just once, like.’

 
; ‘Why?’

  ‘Not what you’re thinking, love. We were talking about my wife’s birthday. It was the day after they say Sharon was killed, did you know that?’

  Neither Jane nor Mann moved a muscle.

  ‘Anyway, we met to talk about that. We were planning a surprise party, like. Aye, that’s what it was. A surprise party.’

  Lee sat back and smiled. He’d lied again, Jane could see it, and he would win again.

  ‘Had you booked a venue for this party, anything like that?’

  ‘No, sorry, love. We were going to have it at home, like. We decided that day, actually. Low key, you know. But as it turned out, well, it never happened, did it?’

  Jane tried not to feel deflated, but it wasn’t easy. The chances of catching this bastard in anything resembling a lie were close to zero. All he needed to do was use his dead wife, or his first victim, as his alibi.

  ’How well do you deal with rejection, Mr. Lee?’

  ‘Same as the next bloke, I suppose.’

  ‘And how’s that?’

  ‘I don’t see how this…’ began the lawyer, but Lee held up his hand.

  ‘Don’t worry, mate. I’ve got this. It’s part of life, isn’t it? I expected you’ve been rejected, down the years, haven’t you, DI Francis?’

  ‘And when it comes to sexual play….’

  ‘Now this is getting interesting.’

  ‘Do you like to dominate your partner, physically?’

  Lee smiled, and glanced at Mann. He licked his lips, quickly, and Jane was repulsed. She’d been almost sure that he was their man for almost twenty four hours, but in that moment she knew it in her gut, in her heart.

  ‘Well…..’ But Lee didn’t continue, because the knocking at the door was loud and insistent. Mann jumped up, went outside and came back in thirty seconds later.

  ‘We need to take a short break’, he said, without even glancing at Jane. ‘There’s something that we have to attend to.’

  ‘This had better be good, Ian’, she hissed when they in the corridor. ‘I had that cocky bastard going there, didn’t I?’

  ‘Aye’, said Mann, using the word in one of it’s distinctly Cumbrian usages. The one that meant ‘no’, or at the very least, ‘you really think so?’ And Jane didn’t miss the intonation, but before she could reply Mann just said, ‘interview room one’, and led the way.

  A young DC called Trish Fell was in the interview room, with a middle aged woman sitting opposite her. DC Fell introduced her colleagues, and then smiled at the woman.

  ‘Now, Karen, you tell Jane here what you just told me. And don’t worry, you’re doing brilliantly.’

  ‘I came in because of that appeal you put out, you know the one about women who’d been attacked after, you know…’

  Jane smiled and waited.

  ‘…after they’d met up with blokes online. Well it happened to me, about a year ago. Last September, I think. I’ve been on this dating site, see? Well I was, anyway. Until it happened, like, and then I stopped. I met this bloke, here in Whitehaven it was, and he was very keen like. But I wasn’t, and I told him so. And that’s when he went for me. Pinned me to the wall outside one of the pubs in town. I thought I was going to die, honest to God I did.’

  ‘But he let you go?’

  ‘Some people came out, and someone shouted, so he ran off.’

  ‘And you reported this attack?’

  ‘No, no. I was embarrassed, like. My husband hadn’t actually moved out at the time and so….’

  ‘I see. And this man’s name?

  ‘Burke. Adam Burke. That’s what he was called, I’m certain.’

  Jane tried to stay calm.

  ‘All right, Karen, this is what’s going to happen now. Trish will stay here with you, and we’ll be back in a minute with a few photos for you to look at, OK?’

  Jane called her CPS case handler, checked on the protocol, and twenty five minutes later she walked back into the interview room with ten photos. Burke, Lee and Phil Smith’s pictures were in there, along with seven others that one of the DCs had found online, of men who had no connection with the area at all. They’d all been printed out on the same machine, and all had exhibit numbers.

  ‘Sorry for the delay, Karen. Now, is the man who attacked you one of these?’

  Jane made a point of watching the woman, and didn’t even look at the photos themselves. Karen said ‘no’ four times, and stopped at the fifth.

  ‘That’s him. This one, definitely.’

  Jane looked down at the photograph. It was Jack Lee. Now they had the bastard.

  When the Lee interview reconvened Jane explained how the identity parade would work, and that it would take place within the hour. For the first time Lee looked nervous, and Jane decided to have another go, before he regained his composure.

  ‘I’m sure you’d like to know the nature of the new offence that we’re interested in?’ A shrug. ‘An assault, an attempt to choke a woman, who the offender had met online, and who had refused to have sex with him.’

  ‘What’s that got to do with me?’

  ‘Perhaps nothing. That’s what the identity parade is about. And, even if you’re picked out by the victim, I have to say that you will only be arrested and bailed today, pending further enquiries. Your solicitor will also tell you that, even if you are convicted of this offence, that it certainly doesn’t mean that you’ll be charged with the killing of Jenny Smith. And he’d be right, you won’t. Now, I hope that puts your mind at rest?’ A nod. ‘Good. But you see that’s not the whole story, Mr Lee. Because if this woman does pick you out today we’ll all know that it was you who strangled both Jenny Smith and Sharon Burke, and that really does matter. Because it means that we’ll focus all our attention on you, until we’ve got enough evidence to charge you.’

  ‘That’ll never happen.’

  ‘Really? Well, I’m glad you’re confident. Because if I was in your position I’d be thinking back to every single sexual encounter I’d had in the last five, ten years. Are there any other women who could make similar accusations? Because one thing about all the high-profile cases involving sexual predators that there have been recently is that we now take the victims’ accounts very seriously, very seriously indeed.’ Lee sat silent, his eyes locked on Jane’s. ‘And please don’t underestimate us, Mr. Lee. No disrespect to the officers who participated in the Burke investigation all those years ago, but times really have changed.’

  ‘Oh, aye? But I thought you were laying people off, right, left and centre.’

  Jane smiled, and glanced across at Mann. ‘You are well-informed, Mr. Lee. And that’s right, we’re having to deal with some really savage cuts to the police service. And I won’t deny it, they’re already impacting on how well we can do our jobs. It’s inevitable, isn’t it? But that’s not the case when it comes to murder, Mr. Lee. Not when it comes to a woman being strangled to death. And of course the detecting job has got that bit easier recently, hasn’t it?’

  Lee hesitated, but he couldn’t resist. ‘How d’you work that out, then?’

  ‘Easy. Email trails, web history, mobile phone records, credit card usage, CCTV. It’s true what they say, sir, this really is a surveillance society. So if I were sitting in your chair I’d be wondering this. Is there anything, anything at all, that could tie me to any form of assault on women, going back years?’ Still no reaction, but Jane was close now, she could sense it. ‘No? But it’s compulsion, isn’t it? You’re probably what they call a sex addict though, aren’t you?’

  Then Jane smiled, as a thought occurred to her. ‘But then I bet that ‘sex addict’ is just a term that people who weren’t actually getting any came up with, isn’t it?’

  ‘Like you are, you nasty bitch.’

  ‘Pardon? Anyway, no matter. Let’s get on with this identity parade, and then we’ll crack on, whichever way it goes.’

  Jane paused, and waited for another moment. She knew exactly what was coming.

  �
�I want to talk to my lawyer. I want to talk to my lawyer alone. I need to talk to my lawyer right now.’

  Monday, 20th August

  Harbourside cafe, Whitehaven.

  ‘It really is all over’ said Andy Hall, smiling at Adam Burke, and regretted his choice of words immediately. ‘Look, Jack Lee has confessed to killing Jenny Smith, and although he won’t admit to killing your wife we’re sure that your conviction will be overturned. Your name will be cleared, completely, and soon too.’

  Hall glanced at Sarah Hardcastle, who leant forward and took Burke’s hands in hers.

  ‘Isn’t it fantastic? You’re innocent, Adam, and everyone round here will soon know that too.’

  Burke’s face was impassive.

  ‘You say I was drugged, Mr. Hall?’

  ‘That’s right. We can’t be certain exactly what you took. A mixture of tranquillisers and sleeping pills, probably.’

  ‘And my wife drugged me? On purpose, like?’

  Hall hesitated.

  ‘Well, Adam, we can’t know that for certain either. Maybe she was just trying to help you feel better, eh? She might have just got the dose a bit wrong, that’s all.’

  ‘But she gave people those drugs every day, didn’t she? At work, I mean.’

  ‘Well, yes, she did, but that doesn’t mean that there was anything deliberate about it, does there? Drugs have different effects, don’t they? Depending on body mass, and things like…’

  Hall was floundering, and it was obvious that Burke wasn’t really listening anyway. Grace was asleep in her pushchair next to Hall, and he looked down, as if reacting to a cry or a whimper that was, strangely, inaudible to anyone else.

  ‘It doesn’t matter’, said Burke, slowly. ‘What does any of it matter? You do your time, and then it’s over.’

  ‘You’ve done your time though, haven’t you, Adam?’ said Sarah brightly, before she realised that Burke wasn’t actually talking about prison at all.