False Witness

by Michelle Davies

  ‘Can I see it?’

  Maggie reluctantly passed the card to Benji’s grandmother. Her eyes gleamed as she scanned it.

  ‘The Chief Reporter? Gosh. Imogen, look at this,’ she trilled, scurrying into the lounge. ‘The Echo sent its top reporter to talk to you.’

  Maggie followed her with growing unease. She had a very bad feeling about this.

  26

  Back at the station Maggie found Renshaw and Burton eating lunch in the incident room and discussing their strategy for when they resumed questioning Poppy.

  ‘You did a great job getting her to open up over the science stuff,’ Renshaw was saying to Burton as Maggie sat down with them. ‘A bit more of that kind of chat might get her to open up even more.’

  ‘What’s her version?’ Maggie asked.

  ‘That it was an accident,’ said Renshaw, balling up the cardboard wrapper from her sandwich and tossing it like a basketball into the bin. ‘She claims she tried to help Benji when he slipped but didn’t get to him in time. No physical contact, in other words. Then she got upset and we had to take a break. Anyway, how come you’re back already?’

  Maggie gave a detailed account of the morning, repeating what Grace had said about Benji not being as enamoured with Poppy as Imogen thought he was; Imogen being falsely accused of bullying Julia back when they were at school; Byford not finding anything in his search of Benji’s room; the row about viewing the body. She also told them Benji’s dad wasn’t dead after all.

  ‘Why would you make up something like that?’ asked Burton.

  ‘Embarrassment, I guess,’ said Maggie, who having watched Lou struggle with the humiliation of her ex-husband leaving to set up home with another woman, understood why Imogen hid the truth. Self-preservation. ‘There doesn’t seem to be any sinister reason for her lying.’

  ‘Yeah, but telling Benji he’s dead is a bit cruel. What if he suddenly showed up asking to see him?’

  ‘That’s what I said, but it sounds like he’s done a complete runner,’ said Maggie, reaching over and helping herself to a crisp from the packet Burton was holding. ‘Did you ask Poppy about the fight with Benji?’

  ‘That’s for round two, once our child whisperer here has softened her up again,’ said Renshaw, poking Burton in the arm. ‘If we go straight in with it she’ll clam up again.’

  ‘What if history has repeated itself?’ mused Burton. ‘One mum bullies the other at school, then their kids have a similar fall-out years later, only this time one of them dies. What if Poppy found out her mum got beaten up by Benji’s and turned against him because of it?’

  ‘Well, that scenario sounds more likely than Benji taking up the baton for his mum, because she hardly remembers Julia,’ said Maggie.

  ‘What, she’s forgotten bullying her?’ asked Renshaw, frowning.

  ‘She’s saying she can’t recall and Grace told me the school believed Imogen over Julia anyway. Imogen remembers some kids having playground spats but doesn’t recall any specific incidents involving Julia,’ Maggie explained. ‘But is it really a surprise if Imogen is woolly on details? I’m ten years younger than her and I struggle to picture most of the kids from my class when I was eleven, let alone remember stuff I said or did to them –’

  The expression on Renshaw’s face made her stop.

  ‘Lucky for you,’ Renshaw said bitterly. ‘I remember mine only too well. Being called copperknob, Duracell, ginger nut and carrot head day in, day out tends to stick in your mind. The teasing was so bloody relentless I once tried to shave off all my hair with my mum’s Ladyshave. Didn’t work.’

  Burton laughed but Maggie was more surprised than amused. She found it hard to imagine Renshaw ever being picked on. If anything, she’d have put money on her being the antagonist – Renshaw had certainly displayed enough of the character traits in the time before the two of them became friendlier.

  ‘There was this one girl in particular who wouldn’t leave me alone and was always picking on me,’ Renshaw went on. ‘Then I saw her in a pub in town a couple of years ago and she acted like I was her long-lost best friend. It was so bizarre. Although she soon scarpered when I mentioned I was in CID.’

  They all laughed at that.

  ‘But in all seriousness I don’t think the history between the mums relates to Benji’s death,’ said Renshaw. ‘Because if it did, we’re basically saying we think Julia put her daughter up to pushing Benji off that wall and I can’t see any parent manipulating their child like that for their own ends. People talk about confronting their school bully, but who really does that? I was as bloody nice as pie to mine in the pub.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Maggie. ‘Yesterday was the first time Julia and Imogen had seen each other in years. They’re grown women now.’

  ‘Okay, so Julia didn’t put Poppy up to it, but there’s no harm in asking Poppy if her mum ever mentioned being bullied,’ said Burton. ‘Maybe she was doing the same to Benji out of misplaced loyalty and it got out of hand.’ He tipped the remains of the crisp packet into his palm and sucked up the salty crumbs.

  ‘It would give us a motive,’ Renshaw conceded. ‘Maggie, I want you to watch the interview on a monitor and gauge Julia’s response when I ask Poppy. Imogen reckons she’s wiped her from memory – let’s see if Julia’s done the same with her.’

  27

  Julia was still shaking from the confrontation in the high street as they returned to their seats in the ABE suite. There had been no time to discuss it properly with Ewan between them calming Poppy down and arriving back at the station, and her mind began to spin as they waited in silence for the detectives to join them.

  What on earth had possessed him to threaten that mum? Julia knew she would tell everyone at school and people would turn against them even more for it. The worst thing was, they didn’t know Ewan the way she did and would just think badly of him. Yes, he could be fearsome when he was riled and blurt out cruel comments to spite people, but he was also loving and generous. She’d learned long ago, even before they were married, to let his outbursts wash over her. He was a good husband and dad and it troubled her that people might get the wrong end of the stick.

  They’d met at a council Christmas party sixteen years ago. She’d recently started in Environmental and Community Services as assistant to the director, Ewan was doing some contract work with another department, and their eyes met when they both reached for a tinfoil platter of sausage rolls and mini quiche at the same time. By the end of the evening, emboldened by a steady supply of Chardonnay, she’d thrown caution to the wind and invited him home with her. She wasn’t in the habit of taking strange men back to her flat for sex but Ewan felt like someone she’d known for years. He was so easy to talk to and so attentive and complimentary. He made her feel as though together they could conquer the world.

  They got engaged three weeks later, on New Year’s Eve, and were married within six months. The speed at which she became his wife shocked her family, while her two best friends, who she’d known since secondary school, expressed concern that Ewan was pushing her too quickly into making such a big commitment. Now she wished they were still in touch so she could show them how wrong they were. But after the wedding Ewan said he felt uncomfortable in their presence, which she could understand after what they’d said about him, so she’d let the friendships fizzle out.

  The door opened and Renshaw and Burton entered. Ewan relayed the incident to them, omitting the part where he’d threatened the woman.

  ‘You need to put a stop to people thinking Poppy is to blame,’ he said, still simmering with anger.

  ‘I agree,’ said Renshaw, ‘and the quickest way for us to do that is if Poppy finishes telling us what happened. We can’t set people straight if we don’t know the full facts ourselves.’

  ‘Are you ready to tell us, Poppy?’ asked Burton.

  Julia felt her frustration build as Poppy kept her gaze focused on her lap. Why didn’t she just tell the police what they wanted to know, then t
hey could collect Dylan, go home and put this nightmare behind them. Ewan shot her a glare that made her flinch, as though he’d sensed what she was thinking.

  Burton tried again. ‘Poppy? Are you ready?’

  Finally she looked up and nodded.

  The tension in the room shifted, as though a blast of cold air had unexpectedly blown in from outside. Julia’s anxiety rose to match it, suddenly fearful of what her daughter might say.

  Burton glanced down at his notebook, then cleared his throat.

  ‘Poppy, you told us earlier that Benji wanted you to meet him at school because he knew how to get into the building site. Were the hoardings unlocked when you got there?’

  ‘Benji had a key for the padlock. I don’t know where he got it from.’

  The sound of Renshaw’s phone pinging made them all jump. The officer frowned as she read the text she’d been sent, then looked across at Poppy.

  ‘Did Benji seem scared at all to you?’ she asked.

  ‘No.’

  There was another ping. Renshaw studied her phone again.

  ‘Was it definitely his idea to climb the wall?’

  ‘Yes, it was. I didn’t want to do it.’

  Julia glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room. She hadn’t given any thought to it while sitting there, but the timing of the texts and Renshaw’s subsequent questions made her suddenly suspect others were watching them. The thought chilled her blood.

  ‘The thing is, Poppy, Benji’s mum’s told us that he wasn’t very adventurous and that he would’ve been far too scared to break into the building site, let alone climb the wall,’ said Renshaw. ‘Which makes me wonder if all this was your idea and not his.’

  The mention of Imogen, even abstractly, made Julia tense.

  ‘No, it wasn’t me!’ Poppy cried. ‘I didn’t even know about the fence way in until he told me. He said he found the gap when he was out playing. That’s how he knew how to get into school when no one else was there.’

  ‘Right, can we put a stop to this nonsense now?’ Ewan butted in before Burton could pose his next question. ‘My daughter’s told you everything.’

  ‘Not quite,’ said Renshaw coolly. ‘She still hasn’t talked us through the moments before Benji fell.’

  ‘I did, I told you he slipped.’

  ‘I’d like more detail, Poppy. Like, how long were you on the wall?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I don’t think it was long.’

  ‘Ten minutes?’

  ‘Less than that.’

  ‘Five?’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘Do you remember the caretaker trying to get you to come down?’

  ‘It’s what I said before – I remember someone shouting but I didn’t know it was Mr Alan until after, when Benji was –’ Poppy swallowed hard – ‘on the ground.’

  ‘Mr Alan? You mean Mr Donnelly?’

  Poppy shrugged. ‘The teachers call him that but we all call him Mr Alan.’

  ‘What was the last thing Benji said to you?’

  She thought for a moment. ‘Um, I think he said we were so high up he felt like Superman. Or maybe it was Spider-Man.’

  ‘Did that make you laugh?’

  Poppy eyed Renshaw warily. ‘I guess.’

  ‘So you were definitely laughing before he fell to his death, not arguing?’

  Poppy burst into tears. Ewan pulled her into a hug before Julia could.

  ‘I don’t like your tone, officer,’ he snapped.

  ‘And I don’t like dealing with liars, Mr Hepworth. I don’t think your daughter is telling us the truth.’

  ‘I am, I am!’ Poppy wailed.

  Julia couldn’t help herself and began to tear up too. ‘Please stop,’ she cried to Renshaw and Burton. ‘She’s just a child.’

  ‘That’s it. We’re out of here,’ said Ewan, getting to his feet and pulling Poppy to hers. ‘If you want to talk to my daughter again you’ll have to do it in the presence of our solicitor.’

  ‘If that’s what you’d prefer,’ said Renshaw, rising out of her seat. ‘Oh, one last question before we go. Mrs Hepworth, are you aware Poppy was having regular play dates at Benji’s house?’

  It was like the floor suddenly shifted beneath Julia’s feet. ‘What?’

  ‘Your husband hasn’t mentioned it? He arranged them with Benji’s mum.’

  Bewildered, Julia looked to Ewan for reassurance. ‘But you wouldn’t do that. Not with her.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ Ewan snarled at Renshaw. ‘I can see what you’re trying to do but it won’t work. Come on, Julia, let’s go.’

  Reluctantly she followed him but her mind was in overdrive. Ewan was in touch with Imogen? Poppy had been going to her house? No, no way, the police must be making it up. Ewan wouldn’t dream of being friends with Imogen, not knowing how upset it would make her. She stalled for a second, desperate to stay and have it out with Renshaw, but then Ewan barked at her from the doorway to get a move on and she knew that if she didn’t he’d blow his top.

  But as she reached the open doorway she saw her husband and daughter were already halfway down the corridor, backs to her, so she paused and turned back.

  ‘Really?’ she whispered to Renshaw.

  ‘Yes, really.’

  28

  Maggie left the room where she’d been following the interview on a monitor and joined Renshaw and Burton in the ABE suite.

  ‘That was some grenade you lobbed in at the end,’ she said as she sat down. ‘I think it’s safe to say Julia had no idea what’s been going on behind her back.’

  ‘Did you see the dad’s face?’ remarked Burton. ‘I thought he was going to lose it.’

  ‘He’s definitely volatile, that one,’ said Renshaw pensively. ‘I’m thinking there might be some truth in that Facebook comment about Poppy being exposed to violence at home. Karl, get on to social services to see if they’ve ever had a file on the family, then check the PNC for any previous. Him and his wife.’

  ‘What about speaking to the person who left the comment?’ Maggie suggested.

  ‘Already thought of that, but the account’s been deactivated.’

  ‘So the comment’s gone?’

  ‘Yep, and Facebook’s removed all mentions of Poppy too. I did screen-grab it but it’s going to be hard to track the poster down.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Burton.

  ‘Their user name was Lady Jane.’

  ‘That’s the title of a Rolling Stones track,’ he mused.

  Renshaw rolled her eyes. ‘Exactly. I’ve asked Facebook to hand over the account details so we’ll see if we get a proper name from that. So, what did you both make of Poppy’s version of events?’

  ‘I think she was lying about Benji’s last words,’ said Maggie. ‘That Superman comment sounded contrived.’

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ said Burton.

  ‘But, I have to say, I did believe her when she said it was all Benji’s idea,’ Maggie went on. ‘Obviously that doesn’t tally with what Imogen’s been saying about Benji being scared of his own shadow, but I think she wants us to believe he was too timid to instigate it because she’s worried it reflects badly on her.’

  ‘Because she let him play out in the evenings?’ Renshaw retorted. ‘It’s hardly child neglect.’

  ‘No, it’s not, but if he spent the time breaking into private property and trespassing, then that’s not good,’ said Burton.

  ‘Talk to Imogen again,’ Renshaw said to Maggie. ‘Make it clear Poppy’s blaming it all on Benji, see how she reacts.’ Her phone began to ring. ‘It’s the mortuary.’

  She got up and went to the other side of the room to take the call. One-sided though it was, Maggie could tell it wasn’t good news being delivered and when Renshaw hung up she was enraged.

  ‘I could quite happily kill someone right now,’ she said. ‘Imogen got hysterical after seeing Benji’s body and started saying that she wouldn’t allow the post-mortem. So to calm her down some bright spark t
old her about digital autopsies and what a great alternative they are because they don’t involve scalpels and now she’s demanding one.’

  ‘Can she do that?’ asked Maggie.

  ‘Evidently, yes. And it looks like the coroner is going to agree to it.’

  ‘How does a DA work exactly?’ asked Burton. ‘I’ve never been present for one.’

  ‘Me neither, but it’s like an MRI scan,’ said Renshaw. ‘They’re being used all the time now for routine coronial deaths, which is why I’m pissed off because this case is anything but routine. We need evidence of Benji being pushed but I don’t know how good DAs are at picking up internal bruising.’

  ‘If the coroner says yes, where will it be done?’ asked Burton.

  ‘There’s a place in West Bromwich that’s going to do it. But the coroner said it could take a day or so to sort the paperwork for the body to be shipped up there, and I can’t see us getting the results until Monday at the earliest. We’re in sodding limbo until then.’

  ‘You can’t blame Imogen for not wanting her son to have a traditional PM,’ said Maggie reasonably. ‘It’s a common reaction from parents, one I’ve seen before. It’s traumatic enough to lose your child without having to consider his or her body being flayed open on a gurney and their insides plopped onto a side table.’

  Burton recoiled at Maggie’s vivid description, while Renshaw sighed.

  ‘I know you’re right and I’m not angry with her. I’m pissed off with the person who suggested it, because they should’ve thought about the consequences for our investigation and the delay it might cause.’

  ‘Whose idea was it?’ asked Maggie.

  Renshaw shot her a look.

  ‘Your new partner’s.’

  29

  Maggie spent the next hour dealing with the fallout from Imogen’s decision to request a digital autopsy. Renshaw was furious with Byford for planting the idea in her mind but Maggie stood up for him and pointed out he wasn’t actually at fault. FLOs were meant to offer practical advice to families about the coroner process and if Imogen was distraught at the thought of her son being cut open, a digital autopsy was an acceptable alternative. But Renshaw wasn’t swayed and insisted Byford had acted unprofessionally by not consulting her first, so she’d tasked Maggie and not him with talking to the coroner about the logistics.