by M A Comley
She hitched up a shoulder. “He’s a man, they cope better than women. Saying that, Malcolm hasn’t coped too well about his wife in the past. He’s getting better, though.”
“I’m glad to hear that. What sort of relationship does your son have with his half-brother?”
“The best kind possible. He’ll never be as close as he was to Millie; however, he adores Callum. Insists Callum stays with him some weekends to give me and Malcolm some time alone together. At times, I don’t know what I would have done without Louie being around to comfort me. He’s grown up to be a fine young man in spite of what this cruel life has thrown at him.”
“Is he in a relationship?”
“Yes, he’s married, and they’re expecting their first child. I couldn’t be more thrilled for them both. Natalie is a wonderful girl. They’ve been married for two years. He worships her, can’t do enough for her. She was a model until she fell pregnant. They’ve told me that if they have a girl, they’re going to call her Millie.”
Sally cringed—not something she would relish; it would act as a permanent reminder, not that Anna was likely to forget her dead child. “How do you feel about that, Anna?”
“In some respects, I think it would be a beautiful tribute to his sister, whom he cherished, but other times, I struggle to get my mind around it. To me, there will only ever be one Millie Pickrel.”
“Maybe if it’s going to upset you, it might be worth having a word with your son or possibly his wife. I’m sure she’ll understand.”
“I’ll cope with it, if I have to. I’m really not one for rocking the boat. It’s a loving gesture on Louie’s part.”
“Okay, if that’s how you feel. Is there anything else you think we should look into that wasn’t covered in the initial investigation?”
She turned her head to the side, glanced at her daughter’s photo and chewed on her lip. “I don’t think so.”
Sally withdrew a card from her jacket pocket and slid it across the table. “I’m going to leave you a card. If you think of anything once we’re gone, don’t hesitate to ring me. Also, if you wouldn’t mind asking Louie to give me a call to arrange a suitable time for an interview, I’d appreciate it.”
“Of course. I’ll show you out.”
The three of them rose from their chairs and made their way back to the front door. Sally held out her hand for Anna to shake.
Once they were back in the car, Jack pulled away from the house and parked up again in the next street. “Where do we go from here?” he asked, turning in his seat to face her.
“I’m going to ring the station, see if Joanna can give me the lowdown on the ex before I do anything else.”
Jack fiddled with his own mobile while Sally placed the call on hers.
“Joanna, it’s me. I need you to get me some background information on Anna Forbes’ ex-partner, Sebastian Randall. As far as Anna is concerned, he was in prison at the time of her daughter’s death. I’d like to know where he is now.”
“I’ll get on it right away and ring you back, boss.”
“Thanks.” Sally hung up. “Let’s find a café somewhere. No point in starting off in another direction just yet.”
By the time Jack had sourced a nearby coffee shop, Joanna had the information for Sally. “Hit me with it,” Sally said.
“Sebastian Randall would appear to be a serial offender. Over the past twenty years, he’s been released no fewer than six times and ended back inside within a day or two.”
“Interesting. Okay, where’s he at now?”
“Norwich prison. Recently went to court on a burglary charge and got two years for his trouble.”
“Thanks. Maybe he’s the type who struggles to exist on the outside world.”
“Seems that way.”
“Thanks, Joanna. Can you search through his file for me, see where he was at the time of Millie’s death?”
The ruffling sound of paper filled the line. “Ah, yes, he was inside doing an eighteen-month stretch for ABH.”
“Interesting, so he’s been banged up on different charges then.”
“So it would appear. Want me to continue digging for you?”
“If you would. Be in touch soon.” She ended the call and took a sip of her coffee as she thought. “We’ll have this, then I’ll see if I can contact the governor of Norwich prison, if I can remember his damn name…ah, yes, I think it was Ward. He was new to his position last year.”
“Thinking of going to see Randall?” Jack asked, bolting down the remains of his sugary doughnut.
“Yep. If there’s a chance he was behind his daughter’s death, then we’ll get it out of him.”
“Ya think? I’m not so sure. What would his motive be?”
Sally shrugged. “Who knows with these guys? I’m not saying he was behind it but I can’t just leave it, Jack.”
“I understand. Sounds like you’re already getting frustrated with this one.” He picked up another doughnut and took a huge chunk out of it.
“You’re not wrong there. Bloody hell, that’s your second one. Where do you put it all? It’s only a few hours since you had your McMuffin, for fuck’s sake.”
“I’ll work it off when I get home.”
Sally raised her hand to stop him saying anything more. “Too much information.”
“Ha! As if. The days of me going home to ravage Donna after a long shift are a thing of the past, what with two older children and a grandchild at home. Anyway, you’ve got a one-track mind. I meant I would burn it off down at the gym.”
Sally pulled a face. “Oops, sorry.”
“Just because you’re still in the honeymoon period in your relationship, it doesn’t mean to say everyone else is.”
“All right, you don’t have to bleat on about it.” She picked up her phone and dialled a number she had stored in it. “Hi, sorry to trouble you. This is DI Sally Parker calling from the Norfolk Constabulary.”
“Hello there. What can I do for you?” the governor’s cheery secretary asked.
“I know it’s short notice, but I was wondering if Governor Ward could fit me in for a brief visit today.”
“Let me check his diary. Hmm…he appears to have a spare half an hour just after lunch at two-fifteen. Is that any good for you?”
“Marvellous. Can you put me down for that?”
“Already done. See you then, Inspector.”
3
Governor Ward welcomed Sally and Jack into his office. “Nice to see you again, Inspector.”
“You, too, sir. It’s been a few months,” Sally added with a laugh.
“I’m glad to see you with a smile on your face after your distasteful past experiences with your ex. Oh, wait, I had some news about him the other day, where is it?” He hunted through the files on his desk until he found the correct one.
Sally’s stomach tied itself into knots. What the hell has Darryl been up to now?
Governor Ward flipped the cover open and used his finger to search for what he was looking for on the page. “Here it is. I’m not sure what your reaction is going to be when you hear this.”
She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the worst news possible, that the prison had decided to release him early on good behaviour. Jack placed a hand on her arm, and she flinched.
“Are you all right? You look like you’re gonna faint,” he asked, concerned.
She gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ll let you know after I’ve heard the news. Go on, Governor Ward.”
“Apparently, Darryl got into a fight with another inmate and ended up in hospital.”
She gasped. “Oh God, don’t tell me he’s escaped from the hospital he was transferred to.”
Governor Ward smiled. “No, nothing like that.”
She let out the breath she’d sucked in. “What then?”
“He did have a spell in hospital while they fixed his busted hip.”
“Ouch!” Jack said. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”
&
nbsp; Sally smiled and let out a relieved sigh. “He’s safely tucked up in his cell again now, though, right?”
“He is,” the governor confirmed.
“Good. Now that’s out of the way, the reason for our visit today is to enquire if you’ll allow us to see one of your prisoners. It’s relating to a cold case we’re investigating.”
“I don’t see why not. You know I’m always happy to oblige. Which prisoner are we talking about here?”
“Sebastian Randall.”
The governor frowned as he tried to recall the name. “Nope, it’s not ringing any bells. Let me try and locate his file for you.” He left his desk and crossed the room to the metal filing cabinets lining one wall. He opened the second drawer down on the first one he came to. “Randall, ah, yes.” He took the file out and shut the drawer again. After retaking his seat, he flipped the file open. “He likes doing the hokey cokey. In, out, in, out. We’ve got a few prisoners like him.”
“Any known reason why they prefer being inside?” Sally asked. She had her own idea, but it would be good to hear the views of an expert.
“Most of these guys don’t know anything else in this life. When they get out of here, they seem to freak out. A lot of them have been cast aside by their families. They have no place to call home, no money except the pittance we give them once we turf them out. No chance of finding a job with no fixed abode. Weigh it up for yourself—they either find a cardboard box somewhere and freeze to death or commit another crime that is likely to end in a prison sentence. At least they know they get regular meals and a relatively comfy bed to sleep in during their stay here.”
“It’s a harsh reality check, isn’t it? Makes you feel sorry for them in a way.”
“I agree. It’s hard to judge someone when it’s laid out to you like that. There just isn’t the support out there these days for people who reoffend.”
“How many prisoners do you have that fit into that category?” Sally asked out of interest.
“Off the top of my head, I’d say that figure is likely to be around fifty.”
“That’s harsh to think that our society is failing them.”
“Not everyone sees it that way; however, I’m inclined to agree with you. It’s all about the cutbacks, no matter which way we turn. One thing it doesn’t solve is the overcrowding of the prisons.”
“There is that.”
“Now we’ve put the world to rights, let me arrange for you to see this man. May I ask what the cold case is?”
“Actually, it’s the death of his daughter, Millie.”
“I see. I’m not aware of the case. Poor man. Something like that might be the reason he prefers to remain behind bars. Perhaps his emotional state is hard to deal with when he’s on the outside.”
“It’s certainly something that hadn’t crossed my mind.”
He nodded and placed a call to another department. “They’re collecting him and taking him to an interview room now.”
“Thanks, much appreciated. We’ll be gentle with him, I promise.”
“You don’t have to promise that. I trust you. Let me show you the way.”
Sally smirked. “I think I can remember that by now.”
“No doubt.”
The three of them left the governor’s office and wound their way through the narrow corridors to the interview rooms. Sally and Jack entered the room to find a man with long grey hair tied back in a ponytail, already seated at the table. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt. A prison officer was standing erect against the back wall.
Two chairs had been placed opposite the prisoner. Sally and Jack sat at the table.
“Hello, Mr Randall. Is it all right if I call you Sebastian? I’m DI Sally Parker, and this is my partner, DS Jack Blackman.”
“I prefer to be called Seb. What’s this about?”
Sally peered into his light-blue eyes and saw nothing but sorrow, making her think this visit would be a waste of time. “Nothing to be concerned about. We’d just like to ask you a few questions about a cold case we’ve reopened.”
He tilted his head and frowned. “What cold case? Nothing to do with what I’ve done over the years. I was convicted for all the crimes I committed. If you’ve come to hassle me about anything else, then I have to tell you you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“No, it doesn’t concern any crimes you’ve committed.” At least I don’t think it does now that I’ve met you, but here goes anyway. “Actually, I have to inform you that we’ve reopened the case of your daughter’s murder.”
His hands clenched and unclenched on the table in front of him, and then he ran both of them through his hair, loosening some of the strands from the ponytail. “Jesus, after all these years, you’re finally doing the decent thing. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”
“I hope this time round we’ll find the perpetrator.”
“I’m confused. Why come to see me? You think I know who the likely perp is because of where I lay my head at night?”
“Perhaps, although that’s not the real reason behind our visit.”
“I don’t understand. What else can I tell you? I was banged up in here the night she…died.”
“I know, we’ve read your record. If you bear with me, I’d like to get some more background information about you and your family, if that’s all right?”
“I wasn’t with them at the time. That bitch ran out on me, said I hit her.”
“And did you?”
“I might’ve lashed out once when she nagged me for being drunk, but all men do that when pushed, don’t they?”
“No, they don’t,” Jack was quick to respond.
“I agree with my partner, not all men hit their wives.” Although Darryl had beaten her to a pulp and even gone further on more than one occasion. She was with a decent man now. Simon had never once caused her to think he was anything but a caring, gentle man. Was he one of a kind, though?
“I lost my job, and she kept bending me ear about it. I snapped and hit her. I regretted my actions, but it was too late. She took the kids and left without telling me where they were. I ended up turning to crime because of that bitch.”
“Seriously? You blame your ex-partner for your failings as a human being?”
“Hark at you. Don’t judge me unless you’ve been in my shoes, lady.”
“Whatever. The day you found out about your daughter’s death, can you run me through your emotions?”
He sat forward. “Is that some kind of frigging trick question? How the fuck do you think I felt?”
“Language, Randall. Any more, and you’ll go back to your cell,” the prison officer warned gruffly.
“Take me back. I’d rather be there than listen to this shit!” he retorted, glancing over his shoulder at the officer.
Undeterred, Sally pressed, “I’m sorry. It was a simple question. Maybe I should have rephrased it.”
“Maybe you should have. Better still, maybe you shouldn’t have asked the damn question in the first effing place. She was my kid, my own flesh and blood. How the hell do you think I felt? I was devastated.” He pointed at Sally. “And what frigging use were your lot? Eh? Useless, that’s what you were. A little kiddie dies, and you stop investigating the case after a few weeks. Work that one out if you can, because I couldn’t at the time. And here you are now, what, twenty-odd years later to open up old wounds? It’s nuts, that’s what it is. Why? Why have you opened the case up again?”
Sally sighed. She understood the man being so angry; she was feeling some of that anger herself because of Falkirk’s screw-up. “There are reasons why we’re now looking into the case, things I’m not prepared to go into.”
“Why? You think I’m stupid or something? You lot messed up, royally messed up, and now you’re trying to make amends for your mistakes.”
Sally exhaled a deep breath. “I hate to admit it, but yes, you’re right. The initial police investigation wasn’t thorough enough.”
“Halleluj
ah! A copper who admits when she is in the wrong.”
“Except I wasn’t in the wrong. I wasn’t even a serving officer at the time of the murder, so please don’t hold that against me. I’m doing my best to put things right here, so I’d appreciate you giving me some slack.”
“What? Instead of enough rope to hang yourself? You lot are a bloody waste of space. Every time I committed a crime, I handed myself in. Knew your lot wouldn’t have the brains to figure out it was me committing the crimes. I’d never kill someone, though, I draw the line there. All my wrongdoings were against property.”
“Aren’t you forgetting the ABH charge?”
He scratched the stubble on his chin. “Well, what are you supposed to do when someone you were on a job with starts messing you about? I slapped him around a bit. He was embarrassed and battered me with the charge of ABH, fecking idiot. Still, I’m grateful for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“It earned me a longer stretch in here.” He laughed and leaned back.
Sally tutted. “Getting back to the investigation. Your son told the officer in charge of the case that an intruder entered the house.”
“Yep, that’s what I heard, too, and?”
“Someone in your line of business…”
He held a hand up. “No way. I’m gonna stop you right there, lady. I’ve already told you that none of my crimes involved hurting anyone. So, you’re wrong, it wasn’t someone in my line of business. Let’s get things right here, okay?”
“Okay, it was a slip of the tongue on my part. Let’s say that a burglar broke in and things went awry on the night.”
“I don’t get that. I’m a ‘professional burglar’, if you like. I still maintain that I wouldn’t kill anyone on a job, let alone a frigging six-year-old who was asleep in her bed.”
“I see. Over the years, during your stay in prison, have you heard a whisper about a possible name perhaps?”
“Are you kidding me? Is someone likely to walk up to me and tell me they murdered my kid?”
“I didn’t say that. Please don’t twist my words, Seb. We all know that gossip filters the corridors of these places. I just wondered if anything about your daughter’s murder had come your way.”