‘He didn’t seem very remorseful on Friday night,’ said Maggie.
Under questioning, Byford confirmed ACC Bailey sent him to keep an eye on the investigation into Benji’s death because he was aware some of the prostitutes he used operated near the school and it was too close for comfort. Byford then admitted to concealing evidence by hiding the notebooks in his drawer. He knew when he found them in Benji’s room that the flowered notebook would expose Bailey, recognizing his phone number in it just as Renshaw had, and he’d made the decision to protect his mate at the expense of the investigation.
‘Do you think Anna knew Byford was Bailey’s mate?’ Burton queried.
‘She can’t have done. She didn’t react when he turned up; I never got the feeling they already knew each other.’
They were in the lift now, going up to CID. As it juddered to a halt on the third floor, Burton shot Maggie a curious look.
‘Do you really not know who the new SIO is?’
‘I told you, I’m out of the loop.’
‘I think you’re in for a surprise then.’
The department was even busier than usual. Three officers Maggie had never seen before were loitering by the back of the room, chatting quietly amongst themselves. On recognizing Burton, one of them came over to greet him and then introduced himself to Maggie as DS Abram Joseph.
‘We’re joining the investigation,’ said Abram.
‘Which one? The boy’s death or the murder?’ asked Maggie.
‘The murder, and also the prostitution ring. Bailey’s saying he wasn’t the only high-ranking officer involved but he’s refusing to name names because he wants to cut a deal to save his job. That’s not going to happen, so it’s down to us to find out who the rest are.’
‘I hope that doesn’t mean Benji’s case is now less of a priority,’ Maggie frowned. ‘I’m the FLO and we owe it to his mum not to let it slide.’
Someone standing behind her laughed.
‘Always the defender, Maggie.’
She spun round at the sound of the familiar voice.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she exclaimed.
Belmar Small adjusted his tie with a wink.
‘I’ve come to work.’
‘You’re on the case now?’ She locked eyes with Burton as the penny slowly dropped. ‘You mean . . .?’
‘Yep. That’s why I was surprised you didn’t know.’
Nathan chose that moment to barrel up to them.
‘Can someone please tell me what the bloody hell is going on?’
‘We’re discussing the new SIO,’ Burton told him.
‘Who is it?’
‘Me.’
The group swivelled round and Maggie’s insides gave a violent lurch.
‘Right,’ said Umpire. ‘Let’s get this briefing started.’
59
Maggie could barely concentrate on what Umpire was saying. She was livid beyond words. Not only had he not bothered to warn her that he and a team from HMET were being brought in by the Chief Constable to investigate the murder and prostitution ring, but he’d made her look an idiot in front of her colleagues for not knowing. They were in a relationship and yet she hadn’t warranted so much as a text in advance.
She stared resolutely ahead, determined not to make eye contact.
‘What we know about our victim so far,’ he was saying, ‘is that her name is Violet Castle but she was known to friends as Ruby because of her hair colour. She’s eighteen and spent most of her adolescence in foster care. She’s not a Mansell native, but moved here from Wales with her mum as an infant. Her last known address is a bedsit on Creighton Avenue. Abram, I want you round there this morning talking to neighbours. We need names of known associates, colleagues.’
‘Sure, boss,’ said Belmar, prompting Maggie to be inexplicably angry with him too. Why hadn’t he let her know either? They were meant to be mates.
Actually, they were closer than that now – Belmar was one of her best friends. When they’d first met she’d thought he was faintly ridiculous – he strutted about the place in three-piece suits and pointy shoes like a GQ model, and still did – but he was kind and gracious and funny and, with his wife, Allie, to whom she was also close, had been incredibly supportive since her fall-out with Lou, filling up her social calendar with nights out to take her mind off it. In return, she was their hand-holder as they dealt with the stress of failing to get pregnant.
Belmar was in the front row, next to Nathan and another detective Maggie didn’t know. She was in the middle row with Burton on her right and Joseph on her left. She didn’t know any of the officers in the back row. They’d been upgraded to Incident Room 1, the biggest and plushest the nick had to offer.
‘Establishing Ruby’s last movements is our priority,’ said Umpire. ‘We understand she was a regular at the Marshall Smith drop-in centre for adolescent drug users and addicts. Ruby used the centre a couple of times a week until about a month ago. Apparently there’s been chatter amongst the regulars this week that she’d not been seen in her usual haunts and that her friends didn’t know where she was.’
‘They weren’t concerned enough to report her missing though,’ Belmar commented.
‘It wasn’t entirely out of character for Ruby to duck in and out of the area,’ said Umpire. ‘She had friends in London she would sometimes crash with for weeks at a time.’
Maggie raised her hand to ask a question.
‘What’s on your mind, DC Neville?’ Umpire asked evenly.
She could feel eyes upon her as she cleared her throat. Everyone within the force knew that they were a couple and for the first time she minded that they did.
‘Was Ruby going to the centre because she was an addict?’
Umpire levelled his gaze at her and a million unspoken words passed between them. He knew she was angry with him.
‘Crack was her drug of choice, but according to the outreach workers at the centre she’d been clean for three months. If any of you locals have any idea who her dealer was, speak up.’
Nathan suggested a few names, which Umpire jotted down on the evidence board.
It wasn’t why Maggie had asked though – she was thinking about Renshaw and what Bailey might’ve exposed her to by sleeping with prostitutes.
‘We are systematically checking every single phone number in Ruby’s notebook—’
‘How do we know for sure it’s hers?’ Nathan interrupted.
‘We’ve had it corroborated. She was known to carry it on her person.’
His caginess led Maggie to the conclusion that Bailey must’ve verified it. She wondered if Umpire had interviewed him and knew that, if he had, it would’ve been difficult. Bailey had been Umpire’s biggest supporter and it was under his auspices that HMET was set up with him in charge. How ironic that the same team was now tasked with investigating him.
‘Now, I know some of you are concerned about the Benji Tyler investigation being overshadowed by the murder. Don’t be. I’m the SIO for that as well and I want it solved as much as you do.’ He inhaled sharply, then his voice quickened. ‘I’ve decided that DC Neville will act up as DS for the remainder of the investigation into Benji’s death. DS Andrew Finnegan, who joins me from HMET, will be Deputy SIO for both cases.’
Maggie was dumbstruck. He wanted her to do what?
‘DC Hazel Carmichael is stepping in as FLO to the Tyler family. For the time being she’ll work alone under Acting DS Neville’s guidance. Welcome to the team, Hazel,’ he added, nodding towards the back of the room.
Maggie spun round in her seat to see an older woman with cropped, silvery-grey hair nodding back.
Slowly she turned round to face Umpire but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. She could barely contain her fury but knew that if she exploded now it would be force-wide gossip by the end of the day. Instead she raged internally, calling him all the names under the sun. How dare he remove her from liaison without a word of warning? How many times did she have to
tell him that she didn’t want a fucking promotion if it meant giving up the role she loved?
He must’ve known how pissed off she was because as he checked his notes she saw high spots of colour on his cheeks, which only ever appeared at times of extreme stress. She felt a bit better for seeing them.
‘Right, it’s been almost three days since Poppy Hepworth was last questioned,’ said Umpire. ‘That’s far too long. We should be keeping up the pressure on her. Maggie, I want you to bring her in this morning and put the 999 transcript to her. If she thinks we believe it she might buckle. Belmar will do the interview with you.’
Oh, so we’re back on first-name terms, are we, thought Maggie resentfully. Like that’s going to get you off the hook. Belmar looked over his shoulder at her and winked. She tried to glower at him but ended up smiling. That was the thing about Belmar – he was the kind of guy who could charm Eskimos into buying ice cubes. She must remember to thank him for the birthday flowers.
She was seriously worried how Imogen would react to her stepping aside at such short notice. With Byford gone too, who could blame her for feeling even more unsettled and deserted by the police? She’d need reassurance she was in good hands with Carmichael, which was tricky when Maggie didn’t know the first thing about the woman. She’d have to call Gant, although he wasn’t in her good books either because he must’ve known she was being moved off and that’s why he’d been dodging her calls all morning.
‘In the meantime, the rest of us need to track down and question every person involved in the construction of the new classrooms. I want to know exactly who had access, from delivery men to labourers.’
‘We should bring Donnelly in again,’ said Burton.
‘You read my mind,’ said Umpire, consulting the evidence board behind him. ‘School caretaker, unfettered access to the grounds, saw all the comings and goings. He has to be top of our list to be questioned about Violet Castle.’
‘He’s still not off the hook for altering his statement,’ said Nathan grimly. ‘I’ve been thinking about it, and what if he changed his story so we’d think Benji’s death was an accident and we closed the case?’
Maggie tensed. It was the theory she’d put forward to Renshaw, the one Byford had rubbished and made her doubt. Would Umpire give weight to it?
‘I think you may well be right, DC Thomas,’ said Umpire, his eyes gleaming. ‘And for suggesting it you get the enjoyable task of ruining Mr Donnelly’s Monday morning. Bring him in.’
60
Julia was sitting up in bed swaddled in her dressing gown with her tablet on her lap. The curtains were still drawn, even though it was gone eleven.
Ewan was at work, the kids downstairs with her dad, by now on their third film of the morning. She should care that they had already exceeded their daily screen time by half but she didn’t have it in her to go downstairs and deal with them whining at her when she switched the TV off.
Up here, on her own, she could pretend everything was normal. Her manager had granted her a week’s leave of absence ‘to deal with things’, informing her by email over the weekend. Julia hoped it was borne of kindness and a desire to lessen what her family was going through, but she suspected the offer was really a ruse to put some distance between her and the council. No one wanted to be tainted by association.
She checked the Echo website again. Benji’s death had been eclipsed by the discovery of the body at Rushbrooke. There was lots of speculation about how it got there but little in the way of detail. The police were saying nothing and the identity of the woman – they had at least confirmed it was a she – wasn’t being made public until next of kin had been informed.
Julia’s visits to the Echo website that morning already numbered in the dozens. But when events shifted like sand and could be updated every second, let alone every hour, she didn’t want to miss anything. So she sat and she read, and refreshed, and read, and refreshed, over and over, until her eyes started to smart and her neck and shoulders throbbed in protest at being kept still for so long.
At midday Malcolm came up with a cup of tea and a cheese sandwich. He’d cut the crusts off, the way her mum used to do when she was little.
‘Thought you might be hungry,’ he said.
He tiptoed into the room as though he didn’t want to disturb her and set the plate and mug down on her bedside table.
‘Shall I open the curtains, let some sunshine in?’
She was about to say no and ask that he leave her alone, but something stopped her.
‘Yes, please.’
She squinted, her eyes adjusting to the flood of daylight as he pulled back the lined drapes.
‘Why don’t you come downstairs for a bit after you’ve eaten? If you feel up to it?’
‘I’m not ill, Dad,’ she said, chewing a mouthful of sandwich. It was white bread, which wasn’t their usual, and it felt spongy and alien against the roof of her mouth.
‘That’s the only bread the shop on the corner had left,’ said Malcolm as she laid the rest back on the plate, uneaten. ‘I didn’t want to leave the kids for too long to go to one of the bigger supermarkets. But we are running out of food.’
Julia picked up her tablet again. ‘I’ll order an online shop.’
‘Poppy’s been asking what’s wrong.’
She looked away, unable to answer him.
‘You can’t punish her like this,’ her dad admonished.
‘I’m not punishing her.’
‘You’ve barely spoken to her since Friday evening, nor have you hugged her, kissed her or offered any other kind of comfort.’ Malcolm lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. ‘I’ve been watching you. The way you’re behaving you may as well just say you think she’s guilty. While you’re up here doing heaven knows what, that poor child is downstairs beside herself. You think this is hard for you, Julia, but what about her? Imagine how she’s feeling. She watched another boy die, her classmate, and then she’s accused of hurting him.’ Malcolm shook his head. ‘Poppy hasn’t deviated from her story once. If she doesn’t doubt herself, then you shouldn’t doubt her either.’
Julia stared at her dad, wide-eyed with fright. His angry tone was an unwelcome flashback to her childhood when he would yell and posture at her mum.
‘I’m sorry, you’re right,’ she stuttered.
‘I know you’re feeling het up about the boy’s mother, but you need to get some perspective. Are you even sure the bullying happened like you think it did?’
Julia was horrified. ‘How can you ask me that?’
‘I recall you having a bit of a fall-out with some girls during your third year at Rushbrooke but the vast majority of the time you were happy there and did well. Your reports said the same thing. Your mum and I never had any concerns about you.’
Julia lost her cool.
‘You probably don’t remember how upset I was because you were too busy being horrible to Mum!’
Far from being annoyed by her comment, her dad nodded sadly.
‘I wasn’t always the best husband.’
‘You were terrible. Sometimes I don’t know why Mum came back.’
‘Oh, Julia, if only things were that black and white.’
She stared, open-mouthed, as her dad’s face crumpled. The only time she’d ever seen him cry was at her mum’s funeral.
‘Dad, why are you upset?’
‘I loved your mum so much.’ He removed his glasses and wiped his cheeks. ‘But she didn’t love me in the same way.’
‘That’s rubbish,’ Julia retorted.
‘I know you don’t want to believe it but it’s true. Her moving out was nothing to do with me forcing her to leave. She went because she was having an affair.’
Julia was furious at his distortion of the past. She remembered how upset her mum had been before she left, how Malcolm had given her no alternative but to go.
‘That’s not what happened. She went because you didn’t want her working and she got fed up with you nagging her
.’
‘Julia, your mother moved out for about three months to set up home with another man. She wanted to take you too but I refused – there was no way I was going to let him raise my child.’ Malcolm faltered. ‘Your mum didn’t want to give you up so she gave him up instead and came home. But she resented me for forcing her to choose and never let me forget it was him that she loved. It was very hard for me to deal with and I can see how, to you, it must’ve looked as though I was difficult to live with. But the constant rejection wore me down.’
Everything Julia had believed about her parents’ marriage was suddenly turned on its head. She’d always thought her mum was unaffectionate and closed off because of the way her dad behaved towards her.
‘But if she didn’t love you, why stay together long after I’d moved out?’
‘I guess we’d got used to each other by then. When you went to university I told your mum we could sell the house and split everything, but she said there was no point. I think, by then, she had started to love me again, in her own way.’ He began to cry again. Julia reached over and hugged him.
‘Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?’ she implored. ‘All this time I thought you were the problem.’
‘Is that why you hated me? We were so close when you were little but as you got older it was like you couldn’t stand me.’
Julia was horrified. ‘You could tell?’
‘I could, yes. But I never let on how upset it made me because I didn’t want to make things any worse. Life at home was already bad enough.’
A tidal wave of sorrow rose up and crashed over her. All those years she’d blamed her dad for being a nightmare to live with, yet all that time he was trying to hold their family together. How could she have got it so wrong?
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said.
Malcolm smiled as he wiped more tears away.
‘It’s in the past and all I care about is that you and I get on fine now. But you can’t hold on to the bad stuff because it eats away at you. Don’t let what happened at school thirty years ago cloud your judgement over Poppy.’
False Witness Page 21