Reprobates

by Bridgestock, RC

  ‘Maybe. But he might have also gone to her house because he had been invited and had been let in through the door,’ said Vicky.

  ‘How would I know?’

  Dylan cleared his throat. ‘We think different, hence your arrest. You don’t remember the man who pointed out Billy to you. You don’t remember when or where. You’ve lost your phone but don’t know when and you can’t remember your phone number. How convenient.’

  There was a knock at the interview room door. The fact was verbalised for the tape and Vicky also said that Detective Inspector Dylan had left the room. On his return, he apologised for the interruption. Vicky knew it must be of major importance for no one would dare interrupt an interview and especially one DI Jack Dylan was in on, if it wasn’t.

  Once again the officers went over old ground in the interview, until Yvonne Best raised the issue that her client had already answered the questions being put to him more than once. ‘If there are no more questions to ask Mr Bryant then please could he be charged or released?’

  Richard Bryant looked smug.

  Dylan terminated the interview.

  ***

  Vicky and Dylan collected their paperwork from the table and left the room but Dylan asked to speak to Yvonne Best out of earshot of her client.

  ‘We are going to bail Mr Bryant in connection with the Billy Simpson murder.’ She looked taken aback.

  ‘You are?’

  ‘Yes, but we are going to arrest him in connection with the murder of Kirsty Gallagher. The interruption…’ said Dylan, Yvonne Best nodded, ‘was confirmation of evidence connecting him to that murder, which will be disclosed shortly.’

  Yvonne Best looked bemused. ‘Another murder?’ she said her eyes widening. ‘He’s going to blow his top!’

  ‘He’s not going anywhere now,’ said Dylan.

  ‘Once you’ve told him, I will need some consultation time.’

  Dylan nodded. ‘Yes, no problem.’

  ‘I’m going to have to get Lin Perfect over as I’ve got other appointments today that I need to keep.’

  ‘That’s okay. You must be very busy. You’ll be expanding again over there before you know it.’

  ***

  Yvonne Best went back into the interview room.

  Minutes later Dylan was joined by DS Paul Robinson. Inside the interview room, Richard Bryant was told that he would be technically bailed in connection with the Billy Simpson murder as he was being arrested for another murder, that of a female by the name of Kirsty Gallagher.

  ‘Can they fucking do this?’ he yelled at his solicitor. ‘Are you going to let them keep arresting me on the off chance I might admit to one of their fucking murders? Fucking ridiculous! This is madness... madness,’ he called out as he was frogmarched back to his cell protesting his innocence and yelling obscenities at the top of his voice.

  ‘That is one angry man, Inspector,’ said Yvonne Best. ‘I’ll get my colleague over here as soon as possible. Will you be doing an interview this evening?’

  Dylan explained the quality of the evidence behind his arrest. ‘Yes, I think once he knows the reasons for his arrest he may quieten down, but that’s up to him. The cells are built for purpose and the staff are used to dealing with angry men, sober or otherwise,’ he said with a wry smile.

  As they went back to the Incident Room Dylan was pleased they had rattled his cage. He knew he was involved in both murders but what was frustrating him was what was the motive?

  Chapter Thirty

  One of the hardest decisions for an investigator in an enquiry is to ‘best guess’ after liaison with the crime scene manager, those exhibits likely to yield evidence and therefore prioritise the submissions to be forwarded for forensic examination. Each exhibit submitted, whether it is a left sock or a right sock it carries an individual price that is charged to the budget; and murder investigations do not, contrary to belief, have a bottomless pit of cash. All monies spent must be accounted for by the Senior Investigating Officer and best value had to be sought in this case by Dylan.

  The Forensic service would be receiving a vast amount of exhibits from the incidents Pullman and Mallard over the next twenty-four hours and prioritisation was essential. Dylan’s staff would be reminded in the briefings that although the incidents had not been officially linked, one suspect, now known to be Richard Bryant, was connected to both. It was of paramount importance that the samples and exhibits were kept in sterile conditions, so that there could be no suggestion by the defence at some future date of contamination at any point of collection, retention or storage.

  Dylan telephoned the fingerprint department and thanked them personally for their work in identifying Richard Bryant’s marks at Kirsty Gallagher’s home – it was a breakthrough for them.

  ‘I understand the marks were lifted from the smoke detector and also the carbon monoxide alarm by Karen. Neither contained the required batteries, I understand,’ said CSI Sarah Jarvis. ‘Good of you to ring, Dylan. It’s nice to be appreciated and Karen will be thrilled to hear her diligence paid off.’

  Next he made a quick call to Jen intending to update her but she wasn’t at her desk so he left her a message with Rita.

  A sandwich was brought into the office for their refreshments then it was time once again to speak to Richard Bryant. This time however Dylan would hold the interview with Detective Sergeant Paul Robinson. There would be just the one interview to let Bryant know the evidence against him then they would let him rest overnight and reflect on his position. Dylan was informed that Lin Perfect from Perfect & Best solicitors would be at the station within the hour.

  The hour passed quickly as the forthcoming interview strategy was discussed between the two detectives and it wasn’t long before once more Dylan was sat facing Richard Bryant in the same interview room.

  After the necessary introductions and cautions Dylan opened the questioning.

  ‘How well did you know Kirsty Gallagher?’ he asked.

  One of Bryan’s eyes was closed as if he was trying unconsciously to avoid looking at something unpleasant. He didn’t reply.

  ‘You do know who I’m speaking about?’

  Bryant gave Dylan a guarded look.

  ‘Let me refresh your memory. Fourteen Bankfield Terrace ring any bells? We both know you’ve been there so let’s not beat about the bush, eh?’

  The prisoner gave Dylan a wary little nod.

  ‘Would you like to tell us about your relationship with her?’

  ‘Are you going to try accusing me of the murder of everyone I’ve worked for now?’ he sighed.

  ‘When did you last see her?’ Dylan asked, eager to move on.

  ‘Way before she died and was taken from the mortuary.’

  ‘So you know about that?’

  ‘I just said so, didn’t I? I’m not deaf and blind.’

  ‘So we have established you did some work for her. Was she your girlfriend?’

  ‘For a bit.’

  ‘What work did you do at her address?’

  ‘I fitted a boiler and a fire.’

  ‘Do you check your work?’

  ‘I’m a professional plumber,’ he said with a frown. ‘Do you want to see my certificates?’

  ‘You see our understanding is that Kirsty Gallagher died from carbon monoxide poisoning, which wasn’t accidental.’

  ‘And you’re trying to blame me for that? Easy target. Nice one.’

  ‘The gas pipe had been tampered with.’

  ‘Tampered with?’ he asked, leaning towards Dylan. ‘I don’t tamper... I’m qualified. It’s what I do for a living.’

  ‘Weren’t you concerned that she’d been found dead?’

  ‘Course, she was young.’

  ‘Why didn’t you come forward?’

  ‘Why should I? I had nothing to do with it, did I?’

  ‘I don’t know, you tell me?’

  Bryant didn’t speak.

  ‘It’s quite feasible that you were seeing Jane Simpson at
the same time as you were seeing Kirsty Gallagher, is it?’

  ‘What?’ he asked, raising his voice.

  ‘Is it possible you were seeing Jane Simpson at the same time as you were seeing Kirsty Gallagher?’

  ‘I don’t remember.’

  ‘You see, we know someone tried to clean up Kirsty Gallagher’s home after she died. They removed the bed sheets but stupidly they forgot the toothbrush that we can get DNA from. Was that you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you sure? The exhibits have gone for examination and we’ll soon know one way or another.’

  Bryant hesitated. ‘I might have used the toothbrush at some time.’

  ‘What do you know about the bed sheet?’

  ‘I don’t know nothing about the bed sheet,’ he said shaking his head with little jerky movements.

  ‘Apart from the gas fire and the boiler, did you do any other work at 14, Bankfield Terrace?’

  ‘Don’t know what you mean?’

  ‘Well, she had a smoke alarm and a carbon monoxide detector but both were devoid of batteries, suggesting to me that someone didn’t want her to be alerted to the danger she was in.’

  ‘They were?’ he asked. His eyes shot open wide.

  ‘And it’s odd that your fingerprints are on both alarm casings.’

  He paused. His body was still. His eyes were the only thing that moved to look from Dylan to Paul and back to Dylan. ‘Yes, well they would have, because I check them as a matter of routine when I do work at houses,’ he said.

  His body language told Dylan he was relieved. What was he relieved about?

  ‘So you remember checking that there were batteries in them?’

  ‘I don’t remember but I would have.’

  ‘Okay, so you’ll have some sort of worksheet?’

  ‘Somewhere.’

  Richard Bryant looked thoughtful. Dylan felt a little tremor of anticipation.

  ‘Good, we’ll look out for it. Just to confirm, are you telling us that all the facts we have put to you in this interview so far are nothing more than coincidence?’

  ‘Guess so.’

  Dylan threw his head back and closed his eyes briefly. He inhaled deeply and then looked back at Bryant. Paul glanced at his boss. ‘I don’t believe for a minute that what you are telling us is the truth,’ he said shaking his head slowly.

  ‘Look,’ Richard Bryant said. He leaned forward and put his hands together. ‘For some reason you are intent on getting me banged up for something. But, you can’t because you have no evidence to prove I’ve done anything wrong – because I haven’t! I’ve done nothing. What I am, is sick of being here,’ he said. Bryant used his arms and the table to help him get to his feet. He walked towards the door. ‘Let me out,’ he said banging on the closed door.

  ‘Sit down.’ Dylan stood. Bryant’s boots squeaked on the flooring as he turned. Paul felt the pressure of Dylan’s hand on his shoulder. ‘Hold on,’ he said pointing to Bryant’s footwear. Bryant stopped. Dylan walked around the table towards him. Bryant’s boots were devoid of laces which Dylan knew would have been extracted as a matter of health and safety procedure when he was taken into the cell. ‘We need to examine them,’ he said looking across the table at Paul. ‘We’ll end this interview now, so you can calm down and I’ll speak to you later,’ he said looking coldly at Bryant.

  ‘I’ve done fuck all wrong!’ he shouted his arms flaying. ‘Charge me or for God’s sake let me go.’

  Dylan and Paul left the interview room and headed back to the office.

  ‘Get the laces that were in the boots when he was brought in. Those boots are dead ringers for the ones worn by the person on Derek Harper’s photo. I want them examined as soon possible.’

  Paul struggled to keep up with Dylan, who took giant strides as he headed back to his office.

  ‘What we’re putting to him is getting under his skin. I can feel it. We just need him to carry on digging a hole so bloody big that he can’t climb out.’

  ‘Then we’ll either get the truth out of him or he’ll go on the back foot and no reply,’ said Paul.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Dylan.

  ***

  It was time for home, Bryant could have another night in the cells. Work would be done on the knife and the boots as a matter of urgency. Dylan was more than aware of Richard Bryant’s custody clock but he needed some time away. He needed to clear the fog in his head. He knew the work would be done diligently without him being physically in the office. Something he had learned with age and experience. His priority in the morning however, would be to check it had all been done.

  By the time Dylan arrived home Jen was in bed. He found his dinner that she had left for him, along with a note. ‘Five minutes in the microwave should do it. Enjoy! Jen x’

  He saw the kitchen clock had stopped at half past nine – three hours ago. The heating was still on. A forgotten tray with a feeding cup upon it and Maisy’s baby pink dressing gown hung over the back of a chair, Jen’s dog-eared slipper boots sat under it. On the hallway table lay a couple of opened letters. He noticed Max was absent from his usual spot at the foot of the stairs. Knowing him he would have snuck onto the foot of their bed in Dylan’s absence. Jen had left the occasional lamp on. He moved on careful feet back into the kitchen conscious not to wake his wife and Maisy. He made himself a drink and sat on the chair with the pink dressing gown hanging over it, to eat his meal. A sense of utter solitude came over him. He covered his eyes for a moment with his hand and let the silence of the room sink in. There was a sound, a movement in the living room. Dylan stopped and cocked his head. ‘Max,’ he said as he opened the adjoining door to let the dog out. ‘What on earth are you doing in there?’ Max came hurrying out his tail swishing excitedly. He buried his nose in Dylan’s outstretched hand. ‘Jen shut you in, mate?’ he asked, taken aback to see someone lying on the sofa. He strained his eyes to see who it was. Penny Sanderson grunted, turned and now open mouthed snored loudly.

  ‘Not again,’ he said. ‘We might as well have a bloody lodger.’

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Dylan woke feeling surprisingly refreshed. Jen’s head that was on her pillow turned towards him. She relayed to him Chantall, Maisy’s childminders concerns about a little boy who had been diagnosed with Scarlet Fever.

  ‘Goodness knows what we would do if Maisy got it now,’ she said.

  ‘We’d cope.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘One of us would have to take leave.’

  ‘Yes, and I know which one,’ she said. ‘And Avril would love that.’

  ‘Jen, stop worrying. Maisy hasn’t got Scarlet Fever.’ Her talk turned to Penny. His mind wandered.

  ‘Have you listened to anything I’ve said, Jack?’ Jen asked as he slipped out of bed a few minutes later.

  ‘What?’ he asked, his eyes wrinkled at the corners. ‘What is she doing here again?’ he asked through gritted teeth.

  ‘He’s gone walkabouts. Her fella. He’s not answering her calls. It’s almost as if he’s vanished off the face of the earth. Poor love. She thought it was the real-deal this time. Give her a break.’

  Dylan looked at his wife with scorn. ‘We’re not a women’s refuge, Jen.’

  ‘I’ll sort it,’ she said. She pulled the duvet up over the bed and straightened the pillows.

  ‘You’d better,’ he said gruffly. ‘If she’s got a drink problem I’ve a number for a clinic.’

  Jen looked at him crossly.

  ‘Sorry. This Bryant bloke is doing my head in.’

  ‘Jack, its work, that’s what you tell me. Stand on the outside, look in, you tell me. Don’t be drawn, you tell me but that’s exactly what you’re doing.’

  ‘I know. I know, I’m trying not to, but this one is getting personal.’

  ‘They all get personal Jack, you just don’t admit it.’

  ‘You know what Maisy is going to say when she’s asked to write a diary at school don’t you?’

  ‘
Enlighten me...’

  ‘My daddy doesn’t come home till I’m in bed.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ he beseeched.

  ‘No it isn’t, it’s until Mommy and me are in bed.’

  ‘You mean Mommy and I?’

  Jen tutted.

  ‘Okay... I hear you... but she could say a lot worse.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘My dad’s in prison.’

  ‘Don’t you dare trivialise it, Jack. By the way the promotion board applications are out for Chief Inspector did you see the advert?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Are you thinking about going for it?’

  ‘Maybe, if it makes you happy. I might... If I get time. The Sergeant’s board are out too. Vicky’s applying.’

  ‘Make time.’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘By the way I’ve booked us a table at Prego tonight. Penny said she’d babysit – least she could do after last night.’

  ‘What time?’

  ‘Eight o’clock.’

  ‘I’ll have to see you there after debrief.’

  ‘I’ll get a taxi,’ she said gathering the dirty washing from the laundry basket in her arms and leaving him to get dressed. ‘And then we can travel home together. It’ll be like a proper date.’

  ***

  Jen’s words about the promotion boards felt like a challenge but Dylan’s first priority was to find out if there were any updates on Richard Bryant. He would be interviewing in an hour. For once Dylan was in luck. The night crew Crime Scene Investigators had examined Bryant’s van and they had found traces of blood on the rear of the van’s floor. They had also lifted some fingerprints that they had proved to be belonging to Derek Harper. It had been confirmed that in the shaft of the stiletto knife there were traces of blood. Things were looking up, but he needed to know whose blood it was before he got too excited.

  Another piece of interesting information that had come in overnight was Bryant’s telephone link with Derek Harper and how they had increased around Kirsty Gallagher’s death. The billing had also shown up links with Barrington Cook prior to his drowning in the canal. Dylan was pleased to have something new to put to Bryant in respect of Kirsty Gallagher although in respect of the bloods he would have to wait for Forensic confirmation. The evidence against Bryant was building nicely.