‘What else is bothering you, Julie?’
‘Joe was very jealous of Kate. He knew, especially in recent years, that she had outgrown him. He was terrified she would leave him and......’
‘And what?’
‘Well, you know he was in prison, a long time ago that is, when he was a boy, for stabbing someone.’
It was Dornan and Healy’s turn to look incredulous, not even bothering to try to hide their surprise. Dornan thanked Julie for her help and quickly wound up the interview. A few minutes after showing Julie out, Dornan sat in her office as Healy paced the room.
Depending on how long ago the conviction had been, if Joe Turner had been a juvenile at the time, a cursory check would not have come up with this information. As far as Healy was concerned, it was another tick in the “close relative dun it box”. Harris was still very much in the picture but there was something about this Joe Turner guy that ate away at Healy. Dornan still felt Harris had raped Kate and then, perhaps in a panic, had killed her, but where the knife would have come from at the critical point was something even she didn’t have an answer for. That afternoon, at Healy’s insistence the barmaid from The 4 Pillars had been brought in to ID Harris in a parade. He knew that an ID from a photo was no good. Some smart–arse defence lawyer could always raise doubt by going on about the angle of the picture, the age the defendant was at the time, anything to plant the germ of “a reasonable doubt”. She confirmed Harris was the man in the bar with Kate and that they’d obviously had a row but had also stated that there was no way Harris could have gone into the kitchens unnoticed and lifted a knife. A search of the kitchen had also confirmed that they didn’t have any knives similar to the one used in the murder. As Julie Connor left the station, a strange feeling of guilt and relief enveloped her. Healy resolved to have another crack at Joe Turner the next day.
The following morning CID were sharing a laugh over an article in the day’s Daily Record, or Daily Retard as the officers called it, as Susan Dornan entered the room. Two groups of youths, one that had been breaking into garden sheds and another that had been breaking into cars, had been jailed the day before after having been arrested the previous January through in Edinburgh after the police had followed their footsteps in the snow straight back to their front doors.
‘Surprised that Lothian lot could even manage that’ quipped Healy on hearing the story.
‘Maybe brought in Rebus,’ suggested Frame.
Dornan indicated for Allan to go through to her office.
‘What’s the latest on Colin Banks?’
‘Definite fruitcake but I just don’t see him for the murder, ma’am.’
Although “Of No Fixed Abode”, no previous record of violence, and the fact that he had phoned in the whereabouts of the body, had allowed him to be released on bail that morning. He had also agreed to phone some solicitor; a friend from Jesuit boot camp days who, to Dornan’s admiration, had stuck by his friend despite his fall from respectability, every few days to see if the police wanted to speak to him. She considered that he was still very much in the frame for some sort of criminal charge. She just wasn’t entirely sure which one.
Allan had looked further into Banks’ past and had established that although he had never actually been convicted of any serious offence, it was generally accepted that Colin Banks was a deeply troubled individual that the medical authorities had been right to quietly remove from the profession and that no purpose would have been served by calling in the police. Although Allan hadn’t been sure about that, he did agree that an actual conviction would have been difficult. His eyes were further opened by the fact that doctors removing tissue and parts from bodies was not as isolated an occurrence as people may think. There was an apparently lucrative market involving doctors removing body parts, including bones, without patient or relative consent, and selling them on to legitimate “Biomedical Services” who in turn sell them on to other doctors for transplant purposes. Allan couldn’t decide if what Banks was doing was worse or better than that. When he had asked if relatives hadn’t noticed missing bones from arms or legs at funerals, he had been told that the bones had been replaced by PVC piping. Allan’s innocent acceptance of the medical profession had been destroyed forever.
Healy felt that the fact that Banks’ erratic behaviour had seemed to intensify when his mother had died warranted the exhumation of her body. If a post mortem established that she had, in fact, been murdered, then a precedent of his ability to be a killer was there, and Banks would have to be considered in a new light. Dornan felt that in reality Banks was just a sad weirdo, perhaps a victim of an overbearing mother, but she could see Healy’s reasoning.
***
Joe Turner was not a happy man. He had tried to book a flight back to Gerona but Celtic were playing Barcelona in a Champions League tie in Barcelona and Ryanair had hiked the fares up, knowing fans would be travelling en masse, and he wasn’t prepared to pay the inflated prices. He knew if he waited another day the flights would be at least half. Now, though, he was sitting in the police station waiting to speak to the police again ruefully, regretting his decision. The good looking female cop appeared at a door just to the right of the foyer desk and summoned him in. They walked in silence down to the interview room he had already been in before.
‘How’s things, Joe?’ Matt Healy asked.
‘Shit. That it? Can I go now?’ Joe replied.
‘You got a problem, Joe?’
‘No, no. My wife’s just been murdered by a guy I told her to stay away from, my business is going to fuck and I’m sitting here again. Why would I have a problem?’
‘You seem very aggressive, Joe.’
‘You think this is aggressive? ’
‘Kate was leaving you, Joe. You know it and now we know it.’
‘Shit.’
‘She’d found someone new, Joe. Loved him by all accounts. You were history.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘Couple of people, actually.’
‘Shit.’
‘You knew, didn’t you?’
‘Shit.’
‘Ever stabbed anyone, Joe?’
Joe’s mind was racing. He knew that the police obviously knew about his past, and about Kate. He knew he would have to tread carefully.
‘That was thirty-odd years ago, for Christ’s sake and Kate was not leaving me.’
‘She was. You know it and I know it. Kate’s PM showed that she had old bruises as well as new bruises, Joe. You hit her?’
‘No.’
‘Don’t believe you.’
‘Tough shit for you, then. Prove it.’
Matt Healy and Susan Dornan watched Joe Turner walk away from the station. They had batted another couple of questions and loaded statements between them but they had nothing concrete to hold Joe Turner with.
‘It was him.’ Matt Healy said.
‘I don’t know. I still think it was Harris.’
Healy turned to Dornan and smiled. ‘Fancy discussing it over a meal?’
Susan Dornan was torn. She liked Matt Healy, perhaps more than she should, but there were just too many obstacles to it being a smart move. The date with Tom Barbour had gone well. He seemed like a decent enough guy, but somehow that vital spark wasn’t there for her. She felt that he would probably call her again and that maybe she should persevere, but wondered at the same time that if you had to try hard to really like someone then perhaps that person wasn’t right for you in the first place. She had had a couple of dates in the last few months or so that were similar scenarios and she sometimes pondered that it was her who was too fussy but, on the other hand, maybe some fairy tales did come true.
She looked at Healy.
‘OK.’
‘Great. Lauders at eight?’
‘Fine.’
Susan Dornan realised assertiveness was not her strong point when it came to male relationships.
***
Joe Turner had phoned me on my mobile. I felt
an underlying sense of uneasiness that he was now in touch with me so often. It seemed more than friendship or just keeping me informed.
‘Have you been speaking to the police?’
‘No. Why would I? Have you?’
I was telling the truth. Despite my concerns, I just had not been able to contact the police, to betray my friend.
‘Yes. They questioned me again this morning.’
‘Why didn’t you call me?’
‘Don’t know. Anyway, I can handle it. Sorry, mate. It’s just that someone has been speaking to them. Know all about me, even stuff from 30 years ago. They know Kate was going to leave me.’
‘No. They’re just saying that to rattle you, Joe. Ignore them. Besides, I didn’t know Kate was leaving you. You never told me that.’
‘No. It’s true, she was. She told me.’
‘What? What did you do, say?’
‘I scudded her.’
I couldn’t take it in. All the doubts, fears, thoughts came flooding back. I was torn between my long term friend; what I knew of his temper and the information I felt he was now drip-feeding me, probing, gauging my reactions, my response.
‘You hit her?’
‘Not much, a bit.’
‘For fuck’s sake, Joe! Do the police know?’
‘No, but you know who I think has been talking?’
‘Who?’
‘Julie Connor.’
‘Talking about what? Did she know?’
‘Christ knows, but Kate was obviously keeping her in the loop. I’m going to see the fucking bitch.’
‘Don’t be so stupid, Joe. If she is speaking to the police, then she’ll contact them straight away if you go near her.’
‘Not if she can’t fucking talk, she won’t.’
‘Don’t be such a prick, Joe! Are you off your head? Leave it. Go back to Spain.’
‘We’ll see, got to go. I’ll call you.’
My mind was in a fog, unsure if I had even just had the conversation. Things were getting out of hand. Joe was out of control. Even so, I felt I couldn’t just phone the police directly and betray my friend.
What, exactly, would I say, anyway? You don’t know me but my best friend has maybe killed his wife and is maybe going to do the same again. Name?...Sorry, I don’t want to give my name....get real, Ray.
But I knew I had to do something. If Julie Connor had the courage to go to the police, then I had to have the courage of my convictions too.
Chapter 7
Dornan had called a Case Review meeting. Healy sat in the office with Susan Dornan before going out to address the squad. He really felt things were moving on in his relationship with her. Their meal the other evening had gone well and although “nothing had happened”, she had given him a peck on the cheek at the end of the night. Susan Dornan was thinking about their evening as well but in a different light. She couldn’t quite understand her own actions when it came to Matt Healy. The evening had been pleasant but not romantic, yet she had wanted to kiss him at the end of the night; not passionately, but a kiss none the less. She saw nothing but problems in continuing down this road with one of her own officers, but there was something there that made her want it to continue. Perhaps her view, held since childhood, that she would know when “the one” came into her life had been her downfall in the past. Perfectly decent guys had been cast by the wayside because they hadn’t lit her fire, but maybe a slow build up, mutual respect; solid reliability is what she should be seeking. Dornan turned to the assembled squad. The group looked their usual, tousled, tired and disinterested selves but she knew that was just an image, a front; they were ready.
Susan Dornan spent the next hour outlining the facts and her interpretation of what the situation was now regarding the murder of Kate Turner. She stuck only to the facts.
Colin Banks had been found with the murder weapon on him. The knife had only two samples of DNA on it; Banks and Kate Turner’s. It had also now been confirmed that Banks’ semen had been found on the body. Banks had been in the vicinity of the crime scene at the time of the murder. Kate Turner’s DNA had been found on his clothing. Playing Devil’s Advocate, but in this case believing her agenda, Dornan outlined reasons for doubting Banks was the killer. Banks was obviously a confused individual with scrambled eggs for brains. His clothes had no traces of Kate Turner’s blood on them, DNA yes, but not blood despite the “frenzied” attack. What would Banks’ motive have been? Purely sex? Possibly robbery, but unlikely. Kate Turner had definitely been raped but not by Banks; by Harris. So how soon after this had Banks’ come along and killed her; and why?
Next issue up was the husband. Dornan let Healy take the floor. Joe Turner was a jealous, violent man. He knew his wife was going to leave him. He was sleeping with another woman; more than likely his wife had a boyfriend. Did he know about the boyfriend? He had lied about being in Scotland at the time of the murder. However, none of the two semen samples found on the body were his. His DNA was not on the knife and he had no blood on his clothing, although he could have easily disposed of any stained clothing before the police caught up with him. Healy didn’t hide the fact that he rated Turner as his prime suspect.
Dornan then moved on to Peter Harris, the favourite of the squad bookie, Frame. His semen was present and he had all but admitted to rape. The victim’s DNA had been found on his clothing. Her blood had also been found on his clothing but not in amounts consistent with multiple stabbing. His DNA had been found on the inside of the victim’s thighs, on her underwear and under her finger nails. Harris had basically admitted to everything, with the rape sure to be proved, but consistently denied the murder. Why? Just to lessen his sentence; doubtful? The small amount of water in Kate’s lungs also backed up the story that Harris left her alive in the water whereas the pathologist said the knife attack meant instant death.
The questions for the squad, therefore, were; did Harris return, possibly in panic over what he’d done, and kill Kate? Did Banks come along after Harris had left and kill her? Was Joe Turner somehow at the scene and killed her? Did a fourth, as yet unidentified person, kill her?
The briefing split up for lunch and Dornan was sitting in her office with the Procurator Fiscal and Healy. The PF explained that although they had a strong case against Harris, they could only charge him with rape at this point. The defence would also highlight the fact that Kate Turner was almost certainly in Glasgow to see an as yet untraced lover who had disappeared without even reporting her missing. Despite Healy’s protestations, the PF also felt that they had no case against Joe Turner so no charges were to be brought against him. Banks was to be charged, in time, with interfering with the scene of a crime but that there was no urgency required for that.
***
Joe Turner was booked on a flight back to Spain for that night and he’d never be back. He had decided Kate would be buried in Spain, despite Martha’s feelings, and that bitch cop Dornan could think again if she thought he would fly back to speak to her whenever she fancied; fuck her and that prick that’s always with her.
Outwardly he was calm but inside his anger was simmering. He stood at the reception of The Marriott in Argyle Street waiting for Julie Connor to appear. The girl on reception had told him that Ms Connor would be right down. He saw her approaching from the corridor in front of the lifts. She was smiling, but nervously. She was slightly surprised that Joe Turner had called in to see her but glad of the diversion. It had given her an excuse to get away from the sad old git; who laughingly referred to himself as her father, and who had turned up distraught and unannounced at the hotel a half hour previously looking for “sympathy and understanding”.
‘Where were you all my life when I needed you?’ she had shouted at him.
‘I was always thinking of you, Julie; show some compassion’ he replied between his sobs.
‘Too little, too late. Compassion? For you?’ Julie was laughing now.
‘I’ve got to go. Someone’s in reception, someone who d
eserves compassion. Don’t be here when I get back.’
She walked out of her office without a backward glance, oblivious to the rage in her visitor’s eyes. She saw Joe standing in the foyer, close to the sliding glass entrance.
He looks like shit. No wonder, though.
‘Joe, I’m so sorry about Kate.’
‘Sure. Thanks. Fancy going for a coffee or something?’
‘I’ll order something here.’
‘I’d prefer somewhere less plush. What about the pub on the corner?’ Joe said sheepishly.
Never did have much taste, except for Kate. Jesus, what did she ever see in him?
‘Fine, let’s go.’ Julie let the receptionist know she’d be back in an hour.
Neither Joe Turner nor Julie Connor noticed the man watching as they kissed in the hotel foyer, Julie rubbing his arm familiarly. He watched as she said something to the receptionist and walked out of the hotel, taking Joe Turner’s arm as she went.
Bitch.
He, too, left the hotel soon afterwards.
Julie and Joe sat in a booth at the far end of the Public Bar.
Christ, not even the lounge. Real class, Joe, real class.
The man from the hotel watched their reflection on the large mirror behind the bar from his stool in the deserted Lounge bar. From what he knew of Joe Turner’s temper he estimated that it would hold for ten minutes before he confronted her. He was two minutes out, probably because Joe Turner wanted some information from Julie Connor before he hit her.
‘Kate was going to leave me.’ It was a statement, not a question.
‘Look, Joe.’
Turner raised his hand to silence her.
The Initial Blow Page 10