A Journal of Sin

by Darryl Donaghue

  ‘He’s been talking. Practically coughed to the burglary and implicated Sean as well. Can we spare two of these guys to go and lift him? He’s got six notebooks here and Sean’s got the rest.’ Dales agreed, and she gave two of the officers Sean’s address and the circumstances of arrest. She made sure they searched for a book with January 2009 on the cover. She wanted to nick him herself, but this one would have to get away. ‘There’s more. He’d hacked his ex’s accounts and was planning on murdering her and his son. There’s a knife in that bag with her name on it. Literally, scratched on it.’

  ‘Bloody hell.’

  The SOCOs and the search team put their bags down and their gloves on. Dales and Sarah walked into the living room with the remaining two officers closely behind.

  ‘Ah, Sergeant. I want to admit to Father Michael’s murder. Please lock me up and throw away the key.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Gladstone, what did you do to him? Jot that down, would you?’ Sarah opened her notebook.

  ‘I’m not sure he’s really admitting to anything, Sarge.’

  ‘It all needs to be recorded. Now, if you would just sign this.’ Dales turned him on his side, placed a pen in his cuffed hands and lined up the page. ‘Yep, go ahead.’ The resulting scribble hardly resembled a name at all.

  ‘He’s not really in the right frame of mind for admissions,’ said Sarah.

  ‘Anything said before he sees a solicitor can hold weight with a jury.’ He was talking like it was an open and closed case. ‘As long as we get a decent judge.’

  ‘So, we’re done? What am I going to get? Life, I expect?’ said John, looking back and forth between them.

  Dales waved the arrest team through. ‘You’re going to go with these two officers back to the police station and the process will start there. Nick him for fraud, too, will you?’ The younger officer arrested him and swapped Dales’ cuffs for his own. ‘Have fun. You know, they think it may be a first, transporting a prisoner by helicopter.’

  ‘I can’t imagine it’s in the policy books.’

  ‘Good work getting those coughs out of him. I’m impressed. We’ll make a detective of you yet.’ He handed her a kit belt, complete with pepper spray, cuffs and a baton. ‘They brought this over in case you need it.’

  ‘Little late for that now,’ she said, rubbing her chin. ‘Let’s not get carried away on his admission. He denied it at first, and only once he showed me the knife did he start talking about wanting to be inside for everyone’s safety.’ Becoming a detective wasn’t the best idea after the week she’d had. The only thing she had planned for her career was to rethink it from the ground up.

  ‘He showed you the knife?’

  ‘Directed me straight to it. I got the impression he didn’t want me to just find it either, he wanted to be the one to point it out; he wanted to be the one to tell the story. Came clean about the burglary too, I didn’t pressure him in any way. Father Michael’s murder? I’m not so convinced.’ Her words fell on deaf ears.

  ‘Even after seeing the knife? The premeditation involved in that? We’re not talking about a rage-driven crime of passion; he etched her name into the side of a blade. After seeing that, you’re still not convinced he’s capable of murder?’

  ‘He’s capable of murder. We’re all capable of murder. I just don’t think he committed this one.’

  ‘I’ll update the gov’nor. He’ll want to know the prisoner is en route.’

  Dales pulled his phone out and called the nick. Sarah heard a commotion outside and looked out the front window.

  ‘Keep them in shot.’ Matt’s camera followed the two officers and the sweaty man in cuffs as they reached the end of the path. They’d waited further up the road for nearly half an hour for something to happen. Will came here expecting a dead body, but when he saw the police helicopters overhead, he held off, expecting something even better. ‘I knew this would be worth it. Are we on? Right, let’s go.’ Will stood up and ran towards the gate, with Matt and Alan following behind. The officers walked either side of John, their arms looped around a shoulder each.

  ‘You can’t film this. Shut the camera off.’

  ‘The police have just arrested a man on suspicion of the murder of local priest, Father Michael of St Andrew’s Parish. Is this the suspect?’ asked Will. Alan exchanged glances with one of the officers, as if he wanted to apologise.

  ‘We’re not answering any questions. Now stop filming. Turn that camera off.’

  ‘Any comments about the investigation so far? Many residents have concerns about how the investigation has been conducted.’ Will wanted some kind of reaction. He was disappointed that Sarah wasn’t there, but figured these two would still make good television. Officers telling people to stop filming had been seen countless times, he wanted something new, something exciting, something controversial.

  ‘We’ve told you we’re not answering any questions. We need you to move out of our way.’ Will didn’t move. He discreetly pointed at John, indicating for Matt to film his face.

  ‘What’s your name, sir?’ asked Will. This was too far. He’d gone beyond bad practice and was risking a day in court for obstructing police officers.

  ‘Don’t answer him.’ The officer pushed Will out of the way.

  ‘That’s an assault. Did you catch that?’ He looked at Matt, who had the camera pointed at him. ‘Good.’

  ‘Hey, I want to talk to him,’ shouted John. He dripped in sweat and was still a long way from sober.

  ‘I advise you don’t say anything ’til you’ve spoken to your brief.’ They moved faster. Will knew he was pushing his luck and, if the officer had the time, she’d more than likely take his name and ID before reporting him to his bosses.

  ‘I did it. I murdered the fucker.’ She forced his head down, but it was too late, his admission had been captured on camera.

  ‘They’ve killed the feed,’ said Matt, putting the camera down.

  ‘Thank Christ,’ said Alan.

  ‘Now, let me tell you for a fact, for a fact, that has never happened in the history of news broadcasting. No one has ever admitted to a murder on television. How do you feel now? Now you’ve made history?’ They didn’t agree, but even after all the conversations they’d had, he still wanted their validation.

  ‘We’re done here now. We must be done here, let’s just get back and see if we still have our jobs,’ said Alan. ‘Chances are that didn’t go out on TV anyway.’

  The front door opened and Sarah came outside. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘That was even better than your little moment of fame, honey. A full admission. “I murdered the fucker” just went viral.’

  She disliked him even more when he had something to be happy about. Allowing this to happen will feature on the list of disciplinary actions I’ll be facing when I return to work, she thought. ‘Right. You’re all going to be reported to the Press Complaints Commission. This has to amount to gross misconduct. Off this property now.’ Alan and Matt stepped back onto the pavement. Will’s phone rang.

  ‘Okay, clam down … Just listen …What? What do you mean? Wait until those ratings come in, you’ll change your mind. What? Don’t be hasty … I’ll come back, we’ll talk it out.’ Alan and Matt looked at each other. They couldn’t hear the voice on the other end, but the nature of the conversation was obvious. He hung up the call. ‘Fuck this place. I don’t need a news channel telling me what to broadcast.’ He stormed off, leaving his two colleagues behind. The cocksure, controversial reporter looked like a spoilt child as he walked away, swiping on his phone and swearing to himself.

  ‘Sorry. For everything.’ Alan’s sincerity didn’t make up for the trouble Will had caused, but it was something. ‘He had that coming. There’s no telling some people.’

  She walked back inside the house and peered through the net curtain, just to be certain he wasn’t coming back to try anything else.

  ‘Friends of yours?’ asked Dales.

  ‘That’s the arsehole
that broke the murder story.’

  ‘Ahh. You know, you’ll laugh about that one day.’

  ‘Not anytime soon.’

  ‘He causing trouble again?’

  ‘He just recorded John’s admission to murder.’ She looked at him, expecting more of a reaction.

  ‘That’s handy. The press finally doing something useful.’

  ‘What? You actually think that’s useful?’

  ‘A recorded admission of murder on arrest? I agree, a smart lawyer will turn it around, say something about his mental health at the time, but it all helps. It’ll certainly help us get a charging decision in the next few days if nothing more. Can you imagine the CPS refusing to charge a man who admitted the crime on the news at ten. Not likely now, is it?’

  Sarah understood the logic, despite not agreeing with it. There was a difference between getting a charge and nailing the right person. The validity of the admission had to come into play and John’s confessions wouldn’t hold up to much scrutiny. ‘And remember, this is the start of the investigation. We’ve got searches to do, computers and phones to analyse, forensic results to come through. It’s going to be a few couple of days back at the office. How are you holding up?’

  ‘I’m okay. Worried about Mum, of course. I’ll call the hospital in a little while, hopefully there will be an update. There’s never any news straight away.’ She hadn’t had time to think about it until now. Her mind had been on getting the job done and finding the culprit. John hadn’t been hard to identify. He was the only person who knew where the notebooks were, so was the natural place to start. She hadn’t expected Sean’s involvement. ‘Any word from the other arrest team?’

  ‘They got him. Wasn’t at home, but his very pissed off wife was. Told them he spends a lot of time sneaking around some other woman’s place.’

  ’Suzanne?’

  ‘That’s the one. They tried it and, low and behold, there he was. They seized the books and nicked the pair of them for burglary. They’ll have to wait a little while for transport. I’ve asked for a few more resources here too. It won’t be long the top brass arrive.’

  ‘Nicked them both?’

  ‘It made sense. Two people in a house with items stolen in a burglary. If she turns out to be nothing to do with it, we’ll turn her loose and try and get a statement implicating him. How’s your jaw?’

  ‘Sore. I’m lucky his boot didn’t break anything.’ She opened her mouth and flinched in pain. ‘It’s going to hurt a lot more before it gets any better.’

  They walked from the lounge through to the back of the house. The SOCOs were in the shed at the rear of the garden. One stood outside, taking a breather from the stench.

  ‘We’re doing it in rounds, Sarge.’ His coveralls were thick with dust from the shed and he took long, deep breaths of clean, fresh air.

  ‘No worries, Jim. I can smell it from here.’

  ‘I doubt there’s going to be anything we can do. Our best bet is to get it to a morgue as soon as possible and see what comes out of the forensic PM. We’re going to do the rest of the shed, then move on to the house.’

  ‘The water’s clearing, so you’ll be glad to know there will be more of your colleagues on the way.’

  ‘That’s a relief. Sarah is it? Nice work on the TV.’

  ‘Thanks. Jim, is it? I’ll remember to compliment your next fuck up,’ she said, knowing she’d have to get used to this kind of banter.

  ‘Sorry, I was just messing around.’ He glanced at the floor.

  ‘Right, we should start on the search. It’ll take longer now we’re two men down,’ said Dales, eager to make a start, more eager to finish.

  ‘One man and one woman.’

  ‘Alright, I know, but it does take a lot longer to say it that way.’

  EIGHTEEN

  Sarah slumped in the rocking chair and finally plugged in her phone. She expected a stream of texts from Mark. She’d used Dales’ phone to call the hospital. Her mother was staying in for observations. She’d hit the back of her head as she fell and had a bleed on the brain. They thought she arrived at the hospital in time to prevent any permanent damage, but couldn’t be sure. The fall had affected her memory, probably why she couldn’t remember it was John who attacked her. The conversation with the hospital staff had all been very non-committal.

  It was time to go home. She’d finished cleaning the house, something she’d started the day John had knocked on the door, enquiring after a police officer. If she could go back, maybe she’d have said no, told him he had the wrong house, no heroes lived here. Dales had gone home for the night and asked that she talk to Steve and Amy about the trial, as she’d be called as a witness. A little presumptuous, seeing as they hadn’t even secured charges yet, but who was she to question it. There was still work to do in Sunbury, but after hearing about Sally’s injury, Emmit had decided to pull her out. It was probably for the best; best for her and best for the investigation.

  Her body ached as she rocked. The gentle sway, the feeling of being cradled, cared for and comforted, exposed the pains of the week. She’d worked so hard, worried so much, that her body had stored the pain away, allowing her to perform at her best and choosing her first real moment of relaxation to remind her just how tough a week it’d been. The base of her spine throbbed and a sharp pain in her shoulder kicked in whenever she moved her right arm. John would have kicked her head clean off to escape, her swollen face was testament to that. The thought that she’d managed to hold on caused a smile to spread across her face, cut short by the pain shooting through her jaw. She could have lost it all that day. If the kick had been a little higher, it could have knocked her out cold. A little lower, it’d have crushed her throat. Would he have just escaped, or finished her off? He was planning to kill two people, one the mother of his own child, and then himself. Would he have spared another murder a second thought?

  Her phone buzzed to life. A few texts came through. Three from Mark, one asking how she was getting on, the next asking for a call and the third saying he’d heard on the news the power was out and not to worry. The rest were from people asking if she was alright and a couple about nights out on the weekend. Nothing urgent. She tapped to her favourites and called her husband. It rang for a short time.

  ‘Sarah?’

  ‘Hello you.’

  ‘How are you? I take it the power’s back on?’

  ‘Mark …’ He tended to state the obvious and she enjoyed teasing him about it.

  ‘Sorry. Well, how have you been? I saw you on the news.’ Mark lowered his tone a little.

  ‘How’d I look?’ She didn’t really want to know, but couldn’t help but ask the question.

  ‘Well, you didn’t gain ten pounds if that’s what you’re worried about.’

  ‘Funny. You know what I mean.’

  ‘It didn’t look great, hun. It looked like they’d just shoved a camera in your face and started rolling.’ She loved the fact they had an open and honest relationship. They told each other everything, and that’s what had set him apart from her previous boyfriends. That’s what had made him marriage material. There were times, however, where she could do with a few white lies.

  ‘It looked that way because that’s exactly what happened. Did the kids see?’ Being on the news should be something to be proud of, but all she pictured was people passing the clip of her, looking dishevelled and blurting out something she shouldn’t have, around the office.

  ‘No. Well, I didn’t show them. Something about it told me you wouldn’t want them to.’

  ‘Thanks. Mark, I don’t think this job’s for me. This week’s been awful. I haven’t had a clue what to do. I’ve made so many mistakes –’

  ‘Sarah, come on –’

  ‘No, you have no idea. Remember the first day I put on the uniform?’

  ‘Boy, do I.’

  ‘I’m serious.’ A lump grew in her throat. She didn’t want to cry, Mark would only worry more if she did. ‘I said I felt like a kid
in adult’s clothes. Like I didn’t quite fit in. I’ve never felt more like that this week.’

  ‘We’ll talk about it when you get home. I can’t wait to see you, and the kids have missed you so much. I’ve booked a table at that Indian you like, the one with the funny typos on the menu. You need a break after all this.’

  ‘This job could kill me. I put myself at risk for what? For a job I can’t even do?’

  ‘You did this to help people and sometimes that takes risks. You know what your sense of decency is like. I doubt you’d be able to do anything else now.’ He was level-headed to a fault. Why couldn’t he just agree, she thought. If he agreed outright, she’d just go home, hand her badge in – if they didn’t take it first – and be back at her office job by the end of the month. Unfortunately, Mark loved her ambition more than anything and wasn’t going to let her quit so easily.

  ‘Help people? I’m not helping anyone, believe me. I’ve trusted the wrong people, put mum in danger and I’m pretty certain I’ve let a murderer walk free.’

  ‘Walk free? He’s been arrested, hasn’t he? Mum in danger?’

  ‘Someone’s been nicked and someone’s going to be charged. That seems to be all that matters.’ Her cheeks were wet with tears. ‘I’ve got to go. There’s a couple of things I’ve got to do before coming home. Miss you all so much. We’ll talk about it all when I see you.’ She thought it best to let him know about Sally when she saw him. It was too much to talk about now.

  ‘There are three big hugs waiting for you when you get here. Try not to think about it. I know that’s easy for me to say and I know it’s something you’ll only ignore, but you know what I mean.’ Sometimes the best way to communicate was to know when to stop talking.

  ‘Yeah. How are the girls?’

  ‘They’re great. They ask about you every day. Sophie’s her usual self and Ellie’s got her head stuck in a school project, something about spiders. They’re at school, but if you call later, they’d love to hear from you.’