‘She tried to outrun them?’ asked Joesbury, his eyes flicking from the park entrance to where he judged the bridge would be.
‘They hadn’t got a hope,’ said Williams. ‘Girls in high heels, halfcut on cheap booze. Cathy fell over, they got separated and that was that.’
‘Is this where it happened?’ asked Joesbury, looking back towards the flat central stone.
‘They pulled them over the stone,’ said Williams. ‘One on either side. They could see each other’s faces while it was going on.’
He stepped closer to the stone. It was raised on a mound of earth. On each side, two smaller flat stones had been laid to form steps.
‘They pulled Vicky over this side, held a knife to her throat and raped her,’ said Williams. ‘Over a dozen times, she told me. She stopped counting at twelve. And all the time she had to watch her fourteen-year-old sister going through exactly the same thing.’
I turned away from the two men and fixed my eyes on the treetops.
‘She said the worst of it, though, was that the city seemed so close,’ continued Williams. ‘She could see lights, hear traffic, even people, and none of them could help her. She told me she’d never felt so helpless.’
‘You’re very quiet, Lacey,’ said Joesbury.
‘I’m not particularly enjoying the story,’ I replied, forcing myself to look at him.
‘No, love. I’m not sure anyone would,’ said Williams, dabbing his nose.
‘How did they get away?’ said Joesbury, turning back to Williams. ‘Did the boys just get tired of it and go?’
‘No, they threw them in the river,’ said Williams.
Joesbury almost did a double take. ‘They did what?’
‘Undressed them, carried them naked over to the bank and threw them in,’ said Williams, nodding in the direction of the Taff. ‘Getting rid of evidence, if you ask me. They were being extra cautious, because they all used condoms. And they made Vicky touch a packet before they threw her in. Tried to make out she’d bought them.’
‘So the girls got out of the river. Then what?’ asked Joesbury.
‘They found their clothes, got dressed and made their way to Cardiff Central. That’s where they found me. Tell you what, I’m fair freezing out here. Anyone fancy a cup of tea?’
77
THE CAFETERIA AT CARDIFF CENTRAL WAS LUNCHTIME BUSY but Williams managed to find us a table.
‘So what happened after they came in?’ asked Joesbury.
‘I played it by the book,’ said Williams. ‘I had a feeling it was one that could get very nasty. I separated the girls and got a WPC to sit with each until I could get the doc over. We have a dedicated rape unit now, with officers trained to deal with sexual violence, but in those days we just had to do our best.’
‘What about the boys?’
‘The girls knew where they were staying, so I sent a couple of cars out to fetch them in. They arrived thirty minutes later and I arrested all five of them. That’s when it all started to go pear-shaped.’
‘How so?’ asked Joesbury, leaning back in his chair.
‘The games teacher came with them,’ replied Williams. ‘Started throwing his weight around. He was an old public-school type himself. He insisted none of the boys talk to anyone until they each had a solicitor. It was nearly two in the morning by this time. You can imagine the picnic trying to find five solicitors. And these were minors we were dealing with, remember?’
‘Oh, I can just see it,’ said Joesbury.
‘The girls’ foster mother arrived and started getting hysterical,’ said Williams. ‘Then we had Social Services pitch in.’
‘How were the girls coping?’ I asked.
Williams looked at me. ‘Victoria was holding up well,’ he said. ‘Quite self-possessed, that one. Cathy was a mess. Sobbing and crying, begging to go home.’
My hands were shaking. I wrapped them around my mug to keep them still.
‘Then the doctor who attended refused to examine Cathy. He said that because she was underage, she needed to be seen by a paediatrician.’
Joesbury gave a small, sympathetic smile.
‘Well, there was no finding one of them in the middle of the night.’ Williams had a pinched look on his face and I didn’t think it was just the effects of the cold any more.
‘So you let them go home without Cathy being examined?’ I asked.
Williams held up one hand. ‘Love, I knew it wasn’t right,’ he said. ‘But I had two social workers, the foster mother and the lass herself telling me to let her go. And by that time, the boys’ parents were starting to arrive. It was bloody mayhem, if you’ll excuse my Welsh. And I didn’t let them go. Someone else took that decision.’
‘OK, but Victoria was examined properly?’ prompted Joesbury.
‘She was,’ replied Williams. ‘But the examination wasn’t conclusive. No traces of semen at all.’
‘The boys used condoms,’ I said. ‘There wouldn’t be.’
Williams nodded. ‘They did,’ he said. ‘And the dunking in the Taff would have got rid of any accidental spills, if you get my drift. The examination did find some minor lacerations and bruises, but nothing that couldn’t be consistent with consensual sex.’
‘It was starting to look like their word against the boys’,’ said Joesbury.
‘As soon as it was light, we did a search of the park,’ said Williams. ‘We found the condom packet with Victoria’s prints on it. And the batch number showed that it had been bought from the girls’ lavatory in the pub where they’d been drinking.’
‘When did you let the boys go?’ asked Joesbury.
Williams ran his hands across his eyes. ‘We were getting towards the end of the twenty-four-hour period,’ he said. ‘The parents had brought in some heavy-hitting legal help by this stage. It was either charge them or let them go.’
‘What did the girls want to do?’ I asked.
‘Cathy was falling apart big time,’ Williams answered. ‘She had a counsellor advising her not to talk to us if she didn’t want to. Victoria wanted to press charges and I didn’t blame her. Them lads were nasty pieces of work. We see it a lot. Kids with rich parents think they can get away with murder.’
‘But Victoria changed her mind?’ I asked.
‘She did, love,’ said Williams. ‘And this is the bit I’m really not proud of. The lawyers requested a meeting with her and eventually she agreed to it. I went too, with our own legal help. We weren’t going to be walked all over.’
‘And?’ said Joesbury.
‘It was very short and to the point. They pointed out that she was the only one in the park that night over the legal age of consent and that sex with a minor, of either sex, is considered statutory rape. They would agree not to press charges, if she did too.’
‘They threatened to charge her with rape?’ Joesbury, to give him his due, looked incredulous.
Williams inclined his head.
‘Would they have got away with it?’
Williams shrugged. ‘Possibly. They had the fingerprints on the condom packet and technically they had the law on their side. If the sex had been consensual, Victoria would have broken the law. They also pointed out that her sexual history would be brought up in court. As I said, she was no angel, even at sixteen she had a past.’
‘You allowed a juvenile rape victim to be intimidated out of pressing charges?’ said Joesbury.
‘We broke the meeting up at that point,’ said Williams. ‘But the damage was done. Victoria knew she was on a hiding to nothing. And she didn’t want to put her sister through a court case.’
Williams showed us out. We stood on the front steps of Cardiff Central police station and thanked him for his time.
‘When did you last see Victoria?’ asked Joesbury.
‘That day,’ said Williams. ‘I came across Cathy a few times after that, she turned into a bit of a tearaway, but Victoria I never saw again. We had a bit of a hunt for her when she disappeared, you know. She
took a stolen car with her.’
I’d been looking at the graceful white buildings around me. ‘What do you think, Sergeant Williams?’ I asked, turning back to him. ‘Were the girls telling the truth?’
His eyes held mind steadily. ‘I never doubted it for a moment, love.’
78
‘ALICE FOSTERED THIRTY-TWO CHILDREN IN TWENTY years. She never got tired of telling people.’
Myfanwy Thomas, who at one time had been next-door neighbour to the Llewellyn girls and their foster parents, was in her early fifties, but still vain enough to wear clothes that were too tight and use shop-bought hair dye to cover up the grey. She’d given me a quick once-over when we’d arrived. ‘My goodness, love, you have been in the wars,’ she’d announced, before turning her attention to Joesbury.
‘Do you remember the Llewellyn sisters?’ I asked.
She frowned at me, before concentrating on Joesbury again. ‘Biscuit, love?’
Joesbury helped himself to a HobNob and smiled at her. I swear the woman practically simpered at him.
‘In trouble, are they?’ she asked him. ‘I’m not surprised, not with Vicky anyway. The problems Alice had with that girl.’
‘So Vicky was a bit of a handful?’ asked Joesbury.
‘You wouldn’t know the half of it, love. If she went to school one day in three it was going well. Pleased herself when she came back for meals. Stayed out till all hours.’
‘Sounds a fairly typical teenager to me,’ I said, raising my eyes above Myfanwy’s head to the small, walled backyard.
‘There was something not right about that one,’ said Myfanwy, giving me the briefest of glares. ‘Her bedroom was full of nasty books, used to give Alice the creeps. Stephen King, James Herbert, you know the sort.’
‘So she read a lot?’ I asked.
The woman shook her head. ‘Nothing nice,’ she said. ‘She’d get true-crime books out of the library. Serial killers and mass murderers and the like. She wasn’t normal.’
I could sense DI Joesbury taking just a little bit more notice.
‘And that dye she used on her hair.’ Myfanwy was on a roll now. ‘Black as soot, it was. The mess she made on Alice’s bathroom carpet.’
‘Sounds a real delinquent,’ I muttered, sitting back in my chair and looking round the not-very-clean kitchen.
‘She took up with a boyfriend shortly after they came to live here,’ said Myfanwy. ‘Proper waster, he was. Used to steal cars and race round the docks in them.’
‘We’re struggling to find photographs of Victoria,’ said Joesbury. ‘Can I ask you to describe her for me? We’re trying to get an artist’s impression produced. As you lived next door to her for two years, you’d be a big help.’
‘She wasn’t pretty, not like her sister,’ said Myfanwy. ‘She used to cake her face in that horrible white make-up. Like a ghoul. How she got away with it at school, I don’t know.’
‘Actually, we know about her hair and make-up,’ said Joesbury. ‘I’m more concerned with bone structure. You know, I sometimes think it helps to have a reference point. Why don’t you look at my colleague here and tell me how Victoria was different?’
Oh, nice one, DI Joesbury. Very slick.
‘Sit still, Flint,’ instructed Joesbury, although I already was. ‘How do the eyes compare?’ he asked Myfanwy.
‘Victoria was all eyes,’ she replied after a moment. ‘This lady’s are much smaller. And Victoria didn’t need glasses.’
‘Neither does DC Flint,’ said Joesbury, with something like impatience creeping into his voice. ‘Hand them over.’
Without taking my eyes off Myfanwy Thomas, I removed my glasses and put them on the table in front of me.
‘What about my mouth?’ I said.
She shook her head. ‘Thicker lips. More pouty somehow. And she wasn’t as thin as you.’
‘Nose?’ I said.
‘No offence, love, but yours is so swollen I can’t tell what it’s like normally. And I never saw Victoria with two black eyes or a split lip. I won’t lie to you, she did get into fights, but she knew how to handle herself. The other girls always used to come off worst.’
‘I think they still do,’ said Joesbury under his breath.
79
‘SORRY TO KEEP YOU,’ THE WOMAN FROM SOCIAL SERVICES said to us from the doorway. ‘Normally, we can’t give out details without a court order.’ Mrs Rita Jenkins reclaimed her seat in the small interview room in one of Cardiff’s municipal buildings. She’d come into work on a Saturday specially to meet us. Joesbury stepped away from the window and sat down beside me.
‘But confidentiality expires if the person in question is dead?’ he asked.
‘Well, yes, it does,’ Mrs Jenkins agreed. ‘There’s a note on file about Catherine’s death,’ she went on. ‘Ten years ago, does that sound right?’
I nodded.
Mrs Jenkins frowned. ‘As far as Victoria’s concerned, the director’s happy for me to tell you what I can,’ she said.
‘We’re hoping to find someone who knew the girls,’ said Joesbury.
Jenkins pursed her lips. ‘Eleven years is a long time,’ she said. ‘Social work has a high staff turnover. And back then, adoption and fostering came under South Glamorgan County Council. That was abolished a few years ago and the department transferred to Cardiff. People got moved around in the restructuring. I can try and track some down for you. It’ll take a while though.’
‘I appreciate that,’ said Joesbury, who was starting to run out of steam.
Jenkins was flicking through one of the files. ‘It doesn’t often go that badly wrong,’ she said. ‘A young girl dead. And pregnant at fourteen. Bloody mess, I must say.’
The man at my side was paying attention again.
‘Excuse me?’ he said. ‘Cathy was pregnant?’
Jenkins nodded her head sadly. ‘Yes, it was confirmed a few weeks after the incident in Bute Park.’
Joesbury looked at me. ‘Hang on a minute,’ he said. ‘The boys used condoms.’
‘Condoms aren’t bulletproof,’ I said. ‘Isn’t there something like a 3 per cent failure rate?’
Joesbury raised both hands in a surrender gesture. ‘Flint, I bow to your greater—’
‘Don’t even go there,’ I snapped.
Joesbury turned back to Jenkins. ‘So what happened to her?’ he asked. ‘Did she have the baby?’
Jenkins shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘The pregnancy was terminated at eleven weeks. The trouble was, that wasn’t the end of the matter.’
‘How so?’ asked Joesbury.
‘She got a form of postnatal depression that we see a lot in young girls who’ve had terminations,’ Jenkins said. ‘She was prescribed antidepressants and was allowed to get addicted. She was suspected of taking other things as well. Then she contracted an infection as a direct result of the operation. There was irreparable damage done to her insides. Things just went from bad to worse after that. Her school-work plummeted, there were all sorts of behavioural issues, but she wouldn’t see any of the counsellors we suggested. She became a very sick girl.’
‘And then she ran away?’ said Joesbury.
‘Yes,’ agreed Jenkins. ‘Then we lost her.’
80
BY SIX O’CLOCK, JOESBURY AND I WERE BOTH SHATTERED. We’d visited the children’s home where Victoria and Catherine had lived, on and off, for most of their teenage years. Neither care workers nor files had little to offer that was new. Cathy was the quiet, pleasant-natured one, Victoria the problem child, in and out of trouble, suspected of being up to worse than she was ever caught at.
Joesbury got excited when we managed to track down Victoria’s former English teacher. The look on his face when the tiny woman opened her front door and we realized she could barely see was the highlight of my day.
Miss Munnery’s eyesight might have been failing, but her brain was razor sharp. She remembered both girls, Victoria in particular. ‘I remember her leaving,’ she
said to us, as we were getting ready to go. ‘I was sad, but not surprised. That trouble with her sister in the park – something died inside her when that happened. She became – what’s the word I’m looking for? – cold. Her eyes looked, I don’t know …’
‘Unhappy?’ I suggested as we stood on the doorstep.
‘No, dear,’ she replied. ‘They looked like shark’s eyes. Dark and dead.’
Police budgets don’t stretch to luxury hotels, but business centres like Cardiff often have empty hotel rooms at the weekends. The Met had got us a good deal on a new and rather glitzy hotel in the bay area and we checked in shortly after six.
‘Where do you want to eat?’ asked Joesbury, stifling a yawn as we took the lift up.
‘Actually, I don’t,’ I said, without taking my eyes off the lift buttons. ‘I’m just going to crash. I’ll see you at breakfast.’
The lift got to my floor first and I left it without looking back. My room was beautiful, quite the classiest place I’d ever been in. The bed was king-size, the décor understated but elegant in shades of soft cream and biscuit. Most of one wall was glass. I walked over and pulled back drapes that were fine as cobwebs.
Night had fallen properly by this stage and lights were shining across the water. Not far from shore a yacht had anchored. It gleamed like a jewel on dark velvet and I could see people moving around on deck. The lights seemed to stretch away from it like coloured streamers across the water. I watched the yacht until everyone went below and the loneliness felt like something that could smother me.
Then I ran a bath and lay in the water for a long time, thinking of Joesbury a floor or two above me and of what could never be. And I thought about two young girls, who hadn’t had much to start with except each other, and who had lost even that when an evening in the city had gone so very badly wrong. I lay there, thinking that finally, at last, I might have found enough courage to take my own life. And that I probably would do exactly that when this was all over; in a warm, sweet-scented bath just like this one.
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