After making a fuss, he volunteered a DNA sample and signed the waiver. The lab’s working on it.
“Next we’ve got Jamie Murdoch, pub manager of The Fountain, who says he was fixing broken toilets during the time Hayley was raped and killed. He appears to have had no access to the murder scene, at least not without being spotted, and he doesn’t show up on CCTV
until he leaves on his bike at half past two. Finally, one of Hayley’s friends is seen exiting The Maze by the Castle Road arcade at twelve-forty, but not seen going in. What had he been doing in there? How long had he been there? What was he hoping for? A quick grope in the ginnel?”
“Hayley’s stepmother said she didn’t have a steady boyfriend,” Winsome said, “but she did think Hayley was sexually experienced.”
Banks noticed Templeton give a little smile at Winsome’s discomfort in talking about sex in front of them.
“We probably won’t find out any more about that until we talk to the people she was with,” said Banks.
“There’s still the possibility that someone was lying in wait,” Templeton said. He glanced at Banks. “A serial killer just starting out.
9 6 P E T E R
R
O B I N S
O N
Someone who knew how to come and go in The Maze without being seen, which probably means he’s a local and knows the area.”
“We won’t forget that possibility, Kev,” said Banks. “But so far we’ve had no luck with the local sex offenders.” He turned back to Winsome. “What about the family? You talked to them.”
“Yes, sir. I can’t say I was very impressed by the father, but maybe it’s hard to be impressed by a bloke you find tied naked to a bed in a hotel room.”
“Oh, Winsome,” said Templeton. “You disappoint me. Don’t tell me it didn’t turn you on.”
“Shut up, Kev,” said Banks.
Winsome glared at Templeton. “There’s no way either of the parents could have done it,” she went on. “Donna McCarthy was watching a DVD with Caroline Dexter, and Geoff Daniels and Martina Redfern have a watertight alibi. I found the taxi driver who drove them back from the nightclub to the hotel around two-thirty, and even he remembers them.” She gave a nervous glance at Templeton, then looked back at Banks. “They were . . . you know . . . in the back of his taxi.”
Even Banks had to smile at that. Templeton laughed out loud.
“Okay,” said Banks. “So far our only suspects who don’t seem to have an alibi are Randall and the mysterious figure on the Castle Road CCTV, and he should be easy enough to track down.” Banks stood up. “Then there’s the Lyndgarth yobs to sort out. They were angry at Jamie Murdoch. They could have hung around The Maze hoping to get a crack at him and found Hayley instead.”
“The CCTV just shows them walking away,” said Templeton.
“They still need looking into. Which is what we ought to be doing now instead of sitting around here. Thanks for bringing me up-to-date. Now let’s get to work and see if we can close this one before the week’s out.”
A S T U N N E D S I L E N C E followed Annie’s response to the revelation of Karen Drew’s real identity. Annie could hear other noises from the building—phone conversations, the clacking of a computer keyboard—
F R I E N D O F T H E D E V I L
9 7
mixed with the sounds of cars and birds from outside. She tried to digest what she’d just heard.
“You weren’t involved in that case, were you?” Julia Ford asked.
“Peripherally,” said Annie. “My boss was SIO.”
Julia Ford smiled. “Ah, yes, Detective Superintendent Banks. I remember him well. How is he?”
“He’s fine,” said Annie. “Actually, he’s a DCI. He was only acting super. I handled the Janet Taylor investigation.” Janet Taylor was the policewoman who had killed Lucy Payne’s husband, Terence, after he had murdered her partner with a machete and come at her with it.
The law about reasonable force being what it was, she had been suspended and put under investigation, until she died in a drunk-driving accident. The whole affair still left a bitter taste in Annie’s mouth.
Julia Ford made a sympathetic grimace. “A tough one.”
“Yes. Look, do you think you could—”
“Explain? Yes. Of course. I’ll do my best.” She glanced at Ginger.
“Are you aware of who Lucy Payne was, DC . . . ?”
“Baker,” said Ginger. “And yes, I’m aware of who she was. She killed all those girls a few years ago. The newspapers called her the
‘Friend of the Devil.’ ”
“So very melodramatic,” said Julia Ford. “But what would you expect of the gutter press? As a matter of fact, Lucy Payne didn’t murder anyone. Her husband was the killer, the ‘devil’ in question.”
“And how convenient that he was dead, so he couldn’t tell his side of the story,” said Annie.
“Well, you’ve only got Janet Taylor to blame for that, haven’t
you?”
“Janet did—”
“Look,” Julia Ford interrupted, “as you know, I defended Lucy, so I’m hardly going to say she was guilty, am I? The Crown reviewed the evidence at the preliminary hearing, such as it was, and threw the case out of court. She never even went to trial.”
“Wasn’t that something to do with the fact that she was in a wheelchair?” said Annie.
“The state of her health may have been a mitigating factor. HM
prisons have very limited facilities for dealing with quadriplegics. But 9 8 P E T E R
R O B I N S O N
the fact remains that there
wasn’t enough evidence against her to
prove that she killed anyone.”
“Weren’t there some dodgy videos?” Ginger asked.
“Showing at the most sexual assault, at the least, consensual sex,”
said Julia Ford. “The Crown knew they were on shaky ground with the videos, so they weren’t even admitted as evidence. As I said, the case collapsed before it went to trial. Not enough evidence. As is, sadly, so often the case.”
Annie ignored the barb. “The fact that one of the star prosecution witnesses, Maggie Forrest, had a nervous breakdown and was unable to testify might have helped, too,” she said.
“Possibly. But these things happen. Besides, even Maggie had no evidence to connect Lucy with any murders.”
“All right,” said Annie, raising her hand. “We’ll get nowhere now debating Lucy Payne’s role in the rape, torture and murder of those young girls.”
“I agree,” said Julia Ford. “I simply wanted to lay my cards on the table and let you know who you’re really dealing with. The events took place six years ago, when Lucy was just twenty-two. When faced with arrest, Lucy jumped out of a window, Maggie Forrest’s window. Lucy was in hospital after hospital for a long, long time, and the firm took care of her affairs. She had a number of serious operations, none of which was entirely successful, but they managed to keep her alive, after a fashion. In the end, we found her a place at Mapston Hall. Given the publicity surrounding the Payne case, once she had managed to disappear from the public view, and from the media, we thought it best that she assumed a new identity for the rest of her days. It was all perfectly legal. I have the papers.”
“And what about the car accident they told us about at Mapston Hall? Drunk driving?”
“Another necessary fiction.”
“I’m sure it was,” said Annie, “and I’m not really here to contest any of that. I thought I was looking for the killer of Karen Drew, but now I find out that I’m looking for who killed Lucy Payne. That changes things.”
F R I E N D O F T H E D E V I L
9 9
“I hope knowing that won’t stop you from putting just as much effort into it.”
Annie glared at her. “I won’t even dignify that with a reply,” she said.
“There were plenty at the time who said Lucy got exactly what
she deserved when she ended up in a wheelchair. Perhaps you were one of them.”
“No.” Annie felt herself turn red. She had never said that, but she had thought it. Like Banks, she believed that Lucy Payne had been as guilty as her husband, and spending the rest of her days paralyzed was fitting enough punishment for what the two of them had done to those girls in their cellar, whether Lucy had actually delivered the killing blows or not. The videos showed that she knew all about what was going on and had been a willing participant in her husband’s sick, elaborate sexual games with his victims. No, Lucy Payne’s fate elicited no sympathy from Annie. And now someone had put her out of her misery. It could almost be viewed as an act of kindness. But she wouldn’t let any of that cloud her judgment. She wouldn’t give Julia Ford the satisfaction of being right. She would work this case as hard as any other, harder perhaps, until she had discovered who killed Lucy Payne and why.
“How does it change things?” Julia Ford asked.
“Well, it brings two important questions to mind,” said Annie.
“Oh?”
“First: Did the killer know she was killing Lucy Payne?”
“And the second?”
“Who knew that Karen Drew was Lucy Payne?”
“ W E L L , S T U A R T,” said Banks. “I think you’ve got some explaining to do, don’t you?”
Stuart Kinsey sat opposite Banks in the interview room that eve ning pouting, picking at a fingernail, glancing at Winsome out of the corner of his eye. It had been a long two days; everyone was tired and wanted to go home. Kinsey wore the typical student uniform of denim and a 1 0 0
P E T E R R O B I N S O N
T-shirt proclaiming The Who’s triumphant return to Leeds University the previous June. His hair was shaggy, but not especially long, and Banks supposed he might be attractive to women in that surly, moody sort of way some of them liked. Whether he had been attractive to Hayley Daniels was another matter.
“Am I under arrest?” he asked.
Banks looked at Winsome. “Why does everyone ask us that?” he said.
“Don’t know, sir,” said Winsome. “Maybe they think it makes a difference.”
“Doesn’t it?” said Kinsey.
“Not really,” said Banks. “See, we could arrest you. Nothing easier.
A mere formality. I’d say, ‘Stuart Kinsey, you are under arrest on suspicion of the murder of Hayley Daniels. You don’t have to say anything . . . blah blah blah.’ The standard caution. Something along those lines. Then—”
“Wait a minute!” said Kinsey. “Murder? Now hold on. I had nothing to do with that.”
“Then you’d ask for a solicitor, as is your right, and we’d have to bring one in for you. He or she would probably encourage you to answer most of our questions, so long as they didn’t incriminate you.
Which they wouldn’t if you didn’t do anything wrong. We could go that route. After the arrest comes the charge, which is a lot more serious. That’s when we take you down to the custody suite, divest you of your belt, shoelaces and possessions and lock you in a cell for as long as we feel like.” Banks tapped the side of his head. “Oh, no, what was I thinking about? That was the good old days. Sorry. It’s twenty-four hours, unless our boss authorizes further periods. And she’s very upset about what happened to Hayley. Got kids of her own.” Banks could sense Winsome rolling her eyes. But it worked. Kinsey had lost his cool and sullen demeanor, and he now appeared like a very frightened young man in a lot of trouble, which was exactly what Banks wanted.
“What do you want to know?” he asked.
Banks nodded to Winsome, who turned on the small television monitor they had set up. The first clip showed Hayley walking away from her friends, Kinsey included, and disappearing into Taylor’s Yard.
F R I E N D O F T H E D E V I L
1 0 1
The time, 12:20 a.m., appeared along the bottom, along with the date and other technical details to prevent tampering. The second excerpt showed Stuart Kinsey dashing out of the arcade onto Castle Road. The time was 12:40. After the videos had finished, Banks paused to let the images sink in, then he said, “Whichever way you look at it, Stuart, you’re in a lot of trouble. What were you doing running out of The Maze at twelve-forty on Saturday night?”
“All right, I’d been looking for Hayley. But I didn’t kill her.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“It was like you saw in the other tape. We all said good- bye outside The Fountain. Hayley was . . . well, she’d had a few, if you must know.”
“I think we were aware of that,” said Banks. “It looks as if you were arguing. Why was she going into The Maze alone?”
“You know.”
“Tell me, Stuart.”
“Look, she was going for a piss, all right? The bogs in The Fountain were out of order. She’d had a skinful and she was going for a piss.
That’s all. If it looks like we were arguing, it’s because we were trying to persuade her not to be so daft. But you can’t tell Hayley anything when she’s made her mind up, especially if she’s had a few.”
“She never said anything about meeting anyone?”
“No.”
“Wasn’t she afraid?”
“What had she to be afraid of ? She didn’t know there was a murderer lurking there, did she?”
“Okay,” said Banks. “Why didn’t she wait until she got to the Bar None?”
“She just did things like that. She liked to be outrageous. She didn’t care what people thought. Besides, she wasn’t coming with us to the Bar None. Said she didn’t like the music.”
“Where was she going?”
“Dunno.”
“Okay, Stuart. You went into The Maze through the back exit of the Bar None shortly after you got there. Why?”
“I went to see if Hayley was okay.”
1 0 2
P E T E R R O B I N S O N
“You were worried about her? But you just told me you didn’t think she was in any danger, or had any reason to be.”
“Yeah, well, it just struck me that it’s dark down there and, you know, she might get lost or something.”
“And you wouldn’t? You know your way around The Maze, do you?”
“I didn’t really stop to think.”
“No. You just dashed out back to go and watch Hayley Daniels have a piss. Are you a pervert or something, Stuart?”
“No! I told you, it wasn’t like that at all. I wanted to . . . I wanted to see where she went.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? After she’d finished . . . you know . . . I wanted to see where she went. I didn’t do anything. Please. You have to believe me. I wouldn’t have hurt Hayley. Not for anything.”
“Were you in love with her?”
“I don’t know about love,” Kinsey said, “but I fancied her something rotten.”
At least that sounded honest, Banks thought. “Did Hayley know that?”
“It was pretty obvious.”
“What was her reaction?”
“Said we were friends. She blew hot and cold, did Hayley.”
“What was your reaction?”
“What do you mean?”
“She rejected you. How did you react?”
“It wasn’t like that!”
“Do you mean she accepted your advances? I’m confused.”
“I didn’t make any advances.”
“So how did she know you were interested?”
“We talked, like, we got on, you know, had stuff in common, bands and things, went to the pictures a couple of times. And there’s like an electricity between people, you know, you can feel it.”
“Did Hayley feel it, too?” Banks asked.
“I don’t suppose she did. At least she wouldn’t admit it. Hayley could be very distant. You never really knew where you stood with F R I E N D O F T H E D E V I L
1 0 3
her. Like I said, hot and cold. She
liked to be a part of the crowd, the party girl.”
“Center of attention?”
“Well, it wasn’t difficult for her. She was fit and she knew it. I mean, sometimes she got a bit rowdy, but it was just harmless fun. Sometimes I thought it was her way of, you know, keeping away any one particular person, being part of the group so you never really had to get close to someone, you could keep them at arm’s length. You’d get into a conversation with her, and then she’d say something, and before you knew it everyone would be involved and she was laughing at someone else’s joke. You couldn’t have her to yourself for very long.”
“That must have been very frustrating,” Banks said.
“You’re telling me.”
“So where did it lead?”
“Well, it didn’t lead anywhere, really. I didn’t sleep with her or anything. Just snogging and stuff. Sometimes I got the impression recently that she . . . no, it doesn’t matter.”
“It might, Stuart,” said Banks. “Let me be the judge.”
Kinsey paused and chewed on his fingernail. “Can I have a cup of tea or something?” he asked. “I’m thirsty.”
“Of course.” Not wanting to interrupt the rhythm of the interview, Banks signaled to Winsome, who got up and asked the constable outside the door to rustle up some tea.
“Won’t be long,” Banks said to Kinsey. “Now, Stuart, you were going to tell me about that impression you had.”
“Well, you know, it was just a sort of vague idea, like.”
“Even so . . .”
“Sometimes I thought maybe she’d got a bloke.”
“When did this start?”
“Couple of months ago. Around then.”
“Any idea who this bloke was? One of the others in the group?”
“No. Someone she was keeping secret.” He leaned forward on the table. “You see, that’s what I meant when I said I was in The Maze because I wanted to see where she went. I was going to follow her, find out who the mystery bloke was.”
“But you didn’t see her?”
1 0 4
P E T E R R O B I N S O N
“No. I thought she must have already gone. I mean, it was a good five minutes or so after we left her that I went in. It doesn’t take that long to . . . you know.”
Friend of the Devil ib-17 Page 12