by Jay Gill
Emma was taken to the office of prison governor Lloyd Trent.
Governor Trent didn’t look up from signing documents as he said, “Come in, Detective Inspector, come in. I’ll be with you in a moment. Officer Farley, please stay with us. This won’t take long.”
“Yes, sir,” said Farley. He closed the door and remained standing behind Emma.
Emma took in her surroundings. There were trophies for soccer and rugby in a glass cabinet as well as photos of Trent shaking hands with politicians and celebrities lining the wall. There was also a considerable number of photos of him holding fish. She didn’t know much about fishing, but she could see that one fish, in particular, was huge; she thought it might be a marlin.
On the wall behind Trent was a photo of the Queen, and above that a quarter-size Union Jack flag. Emma’s eyes returned to the governor, who was now watching her. He took the wire-rimmed reading glasses off his long, thin nose and put them down on his desk. He was a gaunt-looking man who, beneath his shirt and tie, appeared to be nothing but skin and bone. She thought about the huge marlin and considered the strength and determination it would have taken to haul it in.
“Detective Inspector Cotton, I spoke to your new superior this morning.” A thin, wet smile spread across the governor’s face. He’d immediately put her on the back foot.
“I was curious to know why you, Detective Inspector Cotton, were interested in seeing one of my prisoners. Unfortunately, and surprisingly, your superior couldn’t shed much light on it. It would seem the head doesn’t know what the tail is doing. Wouldn’t you say?”
The governor waited for an explanation.
Emma tried to remain courteous. “My hope is Tony Horn can clear up a few questions that have arisen during a current investigation. Naturally, I can’t elaborate due to it being an ongoing investigation.”
“Can’t say or won’t say? What do you think, Officer Farley? Do you think the inspector here thinks we were born yesterday?”
“I wouldn’t like to say, sir.” Farley kept his eyes forward and remained expressionless.
“Officer Farley is far too polite for his own good, Inspector Cotton. I, on the other hand, have learned to question everyone and everything while understanding that the nature of most people is to never, ever tell you the whole truth.
“Take your Mr Tony Horn, for example. Horn gets hardly any visitors and has no idea that he’s a compulsive liar; he’s just lied for so long it’s become a natural response to any question.
“On rare occasions, his girlfriend Tina visits. It’s rare because she’s usually either high or busy turning tricks in some godforsaken squat to pay for her drug habit.
“Tony Horn does not make friends easily. He can’t help himself. You could say he has a way of rubbing people up the wrong way.”
The governor looked Emma up and down. His smile widened to reveal large teeth. “Perhaps, Inspector Cotton, he’ll rub you up the wrong way too. He’s a nasty little man. It might be prudent for me to be there while you interview him.”
Emma turned to see that Officer Farley was looking down at the floor.
“I think I’ll be fine. I’d just as soon speak to Tony Horn privately and be on my way. I don’t wish to inconvenience you further. I can see you’re a busy man.”
Governor Trent stroked his earlobe and tilted his head thoughtfully. “This morning, I read through your list of questions. I can see you gave them some thought. I appreciate that. They all appear acceptable.”
Emma knew the sorts of questions the governor would agree to. She didn’t want any delay getting to see Horn, so she had kept them mundane.
Trent looked at the papers on his desk again. He waved Emma away with his hand.
“If you don’t need my assistance, you’re welcome to go. Just remember, these prisoners are starved of attractive women. You’d be advised to button that blouse right up to that delicate little chinny-chin-chin of yours. Between walls confining over five hundred frustrated men, a glimpse of lacy bosom can wreak all kinds of havoc. I know you wouldn’t want that, Inspector Cotton. Officer Farley will take over from here. Goodbye, detective.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Emma followed Officer Farley through gate after gate. Buzzers sounded, keys rattled and doors crashed shut.
“I’ll be with you at all times,” said Farley. “He has his funny ways – the governor, I mean. Don’t mind him. I’ve met quite a few in top jobs, and he’s far from the worst. I sometimes think to get to the top you need to behave a bit differently from the rest of us.”
Farley nodded at a colleague who handed Emma some forms to sign. “I’ve served in the armed forces and worked in business and now the prison service. They have their differences, but they also have their similarities. I don’t need to tell you that the behaviour of those with power can seem alien to those without it, just as choices made by a powerless man can seem strange to others. Human nature, I guess.”
He looked at Emma’s chest. “I’m sorry if he embarrassed you, but the governor was right to mention the top button. You and I know there is nothing inappropriate about your blouse, but the point he was making was that things we take for granted on the outside can be blown out of all proportion in here.”
Horn was slouched in a chair daydreaming when Emma and Farley walked into the room. On seeing Emma, he sat up straight and briefly smiled before leaning forward with his arms on the table.
Emma dragged a chair out from under the desk and sat opposite him. Farley took a second chair beside her.
“Now, Horn, remember our chat earlier?” said Farley.
Horn nodded. “Yes, I do,” he said keenly. “I remember every word. Yes, I do.”
Farley continued. “This is Detective Inspector Emma Cotton. She’s going to ask you some questions. I want you to answer her truthfully and thoroughly. You remember how I told you that this conversation is utterly confidential? Just the three of us, right?”
“Y-y-y-yep, yes I do,” said Horn.
He moved like a little bird. His head tilted and bobbed from side to side as he tried to evaluate the situation. His gaze moved from Emma to Farley and back again, then down at the papers on the table in front of Emma, his beak-like mouth opening and shutting the whole time. He was finding it hard to sit still.
“Can we remove his handcuffs?” said Emma.
“That is not something I am permitted to do. Governor’s orders. It’s for your own safety.”
“I see.” She looked at Farley in a way that suggested she and Horn needed some space.
Farley looked at Horn, who was picking at a fingernail, then at Emma. He got to his feet and moved to the corner of the room and sat down.
She smiled at Horn and tried to put him at ease. “Tony – do you mind if I call you Tony? As Officer Farley has explained, I’m here to ask a few questions. Is that okay?”
“What sort of questions? I do like questions. I’d like to know what sort they are before I say yes. I will say yes, but I’d like to know first.”
She looked at his arm; the forearm was covered in scars.
Horn followed her glance. “I have a destructive addictive personality. I used to cut myself. Not anymore. The doctors say I was born this way. I think they’re right. I’ve been addicted to lots of things. Right now, I’m trying really hard to stop. It’s not easy. I find I can be addicted to anything. Drugs, of course, plus gambling, smoking, sex, alcohol, harming myself, harming others, masturbation, exercise, religion, even mundane things like reading. I once stayed awake a whole week just reading. I read book after book after book without sleeping or eating.”
He leaned forward and said conspiratorially, “The doctor here is very kind; she’s given me some medication that helps me control it. She’s nice. Pretty, like you.”
Emma smiled. “Tony, I’d like to ask you about Helena Hardy. And what happened.”
Horn blew out his cheeks, then loudly forced air out through his lips. He put his head down on the table an
d looked up sideways at her.
“I regret hurting her. I was in a nasty place at the time with my addictions. If I could go back and change anything, it would be that. And I don’t just mean because I ended up here. I mean because I was weak. I’m stronger now. I was doing heroin at the time; nothing else mattered except my next fix. I was really low; I wasn’t thinking straight. I never did anything like that before. I used to break into houses and steal stuff. I did that, but I never hurt nobody. Not that I know of. I think I’d remember if I did.”
Emma tried to appear sympathetic. “What was different this time? Why did you kill Helena Hardy?”
Horn’s eyes flicked over at Farley again. “Like I said, I was on drugs. All sorts. Mainly smack, but I was drinking too.”
“I need you to help me understand what happened that day. Why did you decide to snatch a purse in the street when you’d been breaking into houses all the years before that? Why the change in behaviour? I’ve seen your record. Up until the day you killed Mrs Hardy, you had no record of violence.”
Horn scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You make it sound like I was able to make rational choices. I was a junkie. Why does anyone do anything? I don’t know. Perhaps I just wanted a change from doing break-ins. I was desperate for my next fix. I saw an opportunity. End of…”
Horn was trembling now and looking anywhere but at her. Emma could feel he was holding back.
“You were a long way from the squat you were reported to have been staying in. Can you explain that? What were you doing on the same street as Helena Hardy?”
“I moved around a lot. I never liked to be in the same place too long.”
Emma turned and looked at Farley. “Would it be possible to get a couple of cups of water, one for Tony and one for me, please?”
Farley looked at the pair of them and shook his head. He slowly got to his feet and tapped on the door. He said, “For your own safety, Inspector, I can’t leave you. Someone will be along with water in a few minutes.” He sat back down.
Emma tried once more. “I find it hard to believe, Tony, that you just happened to be on that street at the very same time that the wife of a senior Scotland Yard detective was there. A senior Scotland Yard detective who was leading the most-talked-about investigation of the day. And you also expect me to believe that the very day you decide to take a day off burglary you’re on the same street as this detective’s wife. A street which is a long way from your home. To do a bag snatch and not a break-in.”
“I know. Weird, innit?” Horn leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Did someone put you up to it?”
“Nah.”
“Why were you on that street?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’re a bad liar, Tony.”
“I can’t—”
“You can’t what? You can’t tell me who put you up to it? Perhaps I can find some way to make your stay here easier. I just need to know why you chose Helena.”
“There’s this prisoner I know, Jimmy Whip. He gets comics sent to him. I’d like some comics.”
A little confused, Emma smiled and said, “I’ll make sure you get some comics. A lot of comics.”
Horn’s finger was tapping like a beak on the table. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. “All I heard was the detective was getting too close. All right? Look, if you don’t want the shit storm you get from killing a copper, well, the next best thing is to threaten his wife. Or his family. You get me? It was a job. I was doing a job. The wife wasn’t meant to die.”
Horn gave a look that said she needed to understand.
She could see Horn knew he’d said too much and was going to clam up. This was the breakthrough she was hoping for, but she needed more. “A job for who? Which detective was getting too close? Too close to what? Who hired you?”
“Let’s just say I was under seismic pressure at the time. You get me?”
The door behind them opened and a guard came in with one cup of water. He put it down in front of Horn and remained standing beside them. “That’s it, Horn,” he said.” Governor wants you back in your cell. Let’s go.”
Officer Farley looked surprised but got to his feet. “You heard the man. That’s it for today, Horn. It’s time to wrap this up. If the inspector has any more questions, I’m sure she can return another time.”
“I’ve got lots more questions I need to ask today,” said Emma. “I’ve barely even started.”
Farley shrugged. “I’m sorry. I’ve got my orders.”
“You won’t forget my comics, will you? The comics are very important. Very important.” Horn got to his feet, and the two officers led him away.
Emma sat in her car and thumped the steering wheel. She went over the interview in her mind. Nothing was making any sense. Was Horn full of shit like the governor said? Why would Horn lie? He had nothing to gain. Even if someone had put him up to it, the fact still remained: he had murdered Helena Hardy.
And if someone did put him up to it, then who was it?
She slammed the car into gear and blew out a breath. She’d wasted precious time. She should have been looking into the most recent victims and not into a case that had already been solved. What the hell had she been thinking? This was a wild goose chase. Lyle had her blindfolded, jumping backwards through hoops with her hands tied behind her back.
You’re an idiot, she told herself angrily, letting Lyle play you like that. If another person died because of her stupidity she’d never forgive herself.
Chapter Forty-Six
Emma pulled off the M3 motorway and into a service station. The car park was nearly full. After circling it twice, she found a parking spot, grabbed her leather bag and headed inside.
It was Saturday morning, and the service station was busy with families getting breakfast and taking a bathroom break before continuing their journey.
She quickly checked her appearance in her smartphone camera and brushed a hand over her jacket as she approached the entrance to Starbucks. She looked around the coffeehouse and caught sight of a big man sitting alone reading the morning paper and nursing a cappuccino. He looked up and immediately shot up his hand, got to his feet and walked over.
“DI Cotton?” He put out his hand. Emma’s hand was swallowed up in his as they shook.
“And you must be Rayner?” she said, looking up into his eyes.
“That’s me, for my sins.” His warm greeting immediately put her at ease.
Rayner was a giant of a man. Not fat. He was tall, fit and strong-looking, like a rugby player. Emma could see he would be great to have in your corner under certain circumstances. He had a tan, and his hair had bleached a little in the summer sun. His eyes were kind and warm. She could see instantly how Hardy and Rayner might be friends. They both had a relaxed, calm aura about them, despite the work they both did.
“I’m getting a fresh coffee. What can I get you? Coffee or tea or something else?”
“A decaffeinated black coffee would be great. Thank you.”
Rayner’s table was in the corner, and with his back to the wall he could see everyone in the room and anyone who came and went. Emma and Rayner settled in for a long chat after introductions and small-talk were out of the way.
“So, Hardy couldn’t stay away? He’s back doing what Hardy does best, is he?” Rayner took a large bite of his blueberry muffin. “Hardy got me into these; they’re addictive.” He held up what little was left of his muffin and laughed.
Emma watched him hoovering crumbs off his sleeves with his mouth. “I’m not sure how much you know. But yes, he’s back in on a temporary basis. Not by choice.”
“It’s never choice. If you’re one of those people, then catching bad guys is what fuels you. If that’s how you are, then you’re just never going to stop. How can you?” Rayner was talking about Hardy, himself and, although he didn’t know it, Emma as well.
“As I said on the phone, this is about Kelly Lyle. She’s playin
g a twisted game, and Hardy seems to be an integral part of it. We’re trying to figure out why.”
Rayner sat back and ran his fingers through his sun-bleached hair.
“I see. You got all the stuff I sent you? It’s everything we have on Lyle. Not much there, I know, considering.”
Emma nodded.
“What is it?” Rayner was leaning forward.
“Take a look at this.” She passed him the letter from Lyle. “What do you make of this?”
Rayner read the letter and got to his feet. He finished his cappuccino and said, “Let’s take a walk.”
They didn’t walk far – just outside to a patch of green with a few picnic benches. Rayner wanted a change of scenery, and walking helped him think. He felt uncomfortable sitting in a coffee shop discussing his ex-partner’s past life.
“Don’t ever repeat any of this. Especially to Hardy. He’s a very private man. I’m only talking to you now because I can see you need to figure out what in hell’s name is going on.”
“You have my word, of course. Go on,” said Emma.
“Hardy and I grew up together; we’ve known each other since we were kids. We got into some scrapes but never anything serious, just boys being boys. He’s a complicated guy in some respects, and in other ways he’s pretty straightforward. You get what you see. For example, when he fell in love. That was straightforward. There was never any question in his mind once he’d met Helena that she was the one for him. I got to know her and watched how he fell truly, deeply, in love. I couldn’t have been happier for him. They were perfect together. She understood him, and he understood her. And I loved them both.”
The way Rayner spoke, and from his body language, Emma could feel his pain. “What really happened? I’ve only read the press stories.”
“You can ignore that shit. The press says what it wants to say to sell stories. You know that.”
She nodded. “I’ve had my share of run-ins with the press. I’m just trying to understand what’s going on here and what Lyle wants me to know. I think it must be important.”