by Jacqui Rose
A flash of anger raced around Alfie’s body; the thought of Vaughn going against the code they lived by infuriated him so much the vein in his temples began to throb. ‘I think I’m the mug here, don’t you? I’m the one who’s been proper mugged off.’
‘How? Come on, spit it out. If you’ve got a beef, tell me, because otherwise I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,’ Vaughn growled, shaking his head.
Everything in Alfie wanted to put his fist into Vaughn’s mouth, but instead he shrugged, reining his temper back, knowing he wanted to play this right.
‘Like I say, forget about it. I was just winding myself up. You know, about the police and about Franny. Can’t get me head around it.’
Even though it was only the slightest of hesitations it didn’t go unnoticed by Alfie.
‘Why are you thinking about the Old Bill?’
Alfie gave Vaughn a tight smile. ‘Just the fact you called them. It got to me. Still can’t understand it.’
‘Oh come on, Alf, not this again. We’ve gone over it. Okay, looking back it ain’t what we usually do, it may not have been the cleverest of moves, but like I say, it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. One call, that’s all it was.’
Alfie chose his words carefully. ‘And you haven’t spoken to them since? You never said anything else? I mean you wouldn’t be that stupid, would you? There’s rules – and there’s definitely punishments in our world for people who grass.’
Turning his back on Alfie, Vaughn said, ‘What do you take me for? Look, I’m going to put her back in her cot.’
There was so much Alfie wanted to say but until he knew for certain he needed to keep his mouth shut. And if he did find out that Vaughn and Shannon had given statements, then both of them would be sorry. Very sorry indeed.
Then with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, Alfie said, ‘Okay look, I’m going to get off now.’
‘You’ve only just got here.’
Alfie shrugged again and answered drily. ‘I’m sure we’ll catch up very soon.’
28
Ten minutes later and certain that Alfie had gone, Vaughn picked up the phone. After two rings it was answered and Vaughn growled down the phone. ‘It’s me. Listen, have you been talking?’
‘What?’
‘Have you been shooting your mouth off that I’ve been speaking to you? Because if you have, I’m not the only one who’s going to be a dead man around here – I’m going to kill you too.’
Over in the hospital Detective Balantyne seethed and stared at the phone as the call was cut off. He didn’t know who the hell this man thought he was, speaking to him like that, but he wasn’t going to have anyone threaten him, least of all some scumbag like Vaughn Sadler.
If it wasn’t for the fact that he was caught up waiting to find out what was happening with Claire, he’d go round and show Sadler what happened to people who thought they could threaten him – a detective and a highly regarded one at that. He hoped the trial was brought forward because the sooner he didn’t have to deal with scum like Doyle and Sadler the better all round.
‘Detective Balantyne, do you mind going over this again? I just need to get a few more details.’
Balantyne pushed the phone into his pocket and smiled at the dark-haired constable. ‘Not at all … Shall we go and get a coffee? I could do with one.’
Without waiting for the officer to reply, Balantyne walked along the corridor of the hospital. There was an overpowering smell of bleach in the air and Balantyne did all he could to try to stop himself feeling sick. It wasn’t helping either that his mind was focused on Claire.
She’d looked in a bad way when the ambulance had come for her. She hadn’t moved, and her breathing had been short. As for Emma, she’d started to come around as they were carrying her on a stretcher into a separate ambulance. He hadn’t got in with her, he’d travelled to the hospital with Claire – though he’d been careful not to hold her hand or to show any affection towards her. He hadn’t wanted to give anything away.
‘How is she, Detective? How’s the Inspector?’ The concern in the officer’s voice was somehow comforting and he turned to smile as they made their way into the hospital canteen.
‘I don’t know. The nurse came to tell me about half an hour ago they found a bleed on her brain. They took her into surgery, so it’s now just a question of waiting … She’s pregnant …’
The officer sounded as surprised as he looked. ‘I didn’t know that.’
Not quite sure why he’d told him, Balantyne answered in a weary tone. ‘No, neither did I, until earlier … She mentioned it in passing.’
The officer raised his eyebrows. ‘I didn’t know she even had a partner. Every time there’s a social do she never brings anyone. So, I presumed …’
This time Balantyne’s tone was hard and it clearly didn’t go unmissed by the young officer. ‘First rule of policing, never presume anything, officer … Anyway, look, why don’t you get the coffees and I’ll get a seat.’
Again, without waiting for a reply, Balantyne turned and walked away from the officer, leaving him queuing up at the counter.
Pulling out the metal canteen chair, which scraped noisily along the floor, Balantyne took a deep breath. If he was going to pull this off, if he was going to walk away without anyone pointing the finger of blame at him, he needed to play it casually. Needed to play it cool.
If he played it right, if he was careful, this was a way of getting rid of Emma once and for all, and there was no way he could afford to mess this opportunity up.
‘I’m sorry, I forgot to ask how your wife is?’
Balantyne’s thoughts were interrupted by the officer bringing two large mugs of frothy coffee.
‘She’s fine, well she is physically. Mentally, I’m sure she’s not very well. I haven’t seen her yet.’
The officer’s words rushed out. ‘We can do this another time if you’d rather. I can speak to you later if you want to go and see her. They should let you.’
Balantyne snapped, ‘No, I’d rather just get this over and done with.’
The officer nodded as he sat down and, pulling out a notebook, he spoke apologetically. ‘I know this must be awkward but—’
Irritated by the officer’s demeanour and losing all patience, Balantyne interrupted, and gave him a frosty stare. ‘The only part of this that’s awkward is you. Now why don’t you just ask me the questions and then you can type up your report, and I can make sure my wife is okay.’
Licking the top of his biro pen out of habit, the officer nodded again. He cleared his throat and said, ‘So why was Mrs Balantyne in Inspector Martin’s car?’
Balantyne stared at the officer, trying to keep his voice as even as he could. ‘Emma, as you now know, had been drinking and that’s when she ran down Inspector Martin.’
‘Yes, I understand that’s what happened in the end, but that doesn’t answer the question. Why was she in the car and in the driver’s seat in the first place?’
Balantyne bit on his lip. He could feel a small vein beginning to throb behind his eye. ‘Look, I can’t tell you why a drunk person does something. They’re not thinking rationally.’
‘Yes but …’
‘But what, constable?’
The officer looked at Balantyne seeing the challenge in his eyes, but he refused to back down. ‘But why were you even there? Why was the car there? Why was she in the car? Detective, there’s a part here that’s missing and I just need to understand how this all came about.’
Knowing that he had to keep his cool, Balantyne gave a tight smile that didn’t meet his eyes. ‘All of us want to make our mark in the force, but you have to pick how you do it …’
‘I don’t follow, sir.’
‘Officer, if I were you I’d stop treating me like I’m the criminal here. I don’t appreciate being grilled. I’m telling you how it was, and I don’t expect you to try to prove otherwise. Understand?’
For a moment it fell sile
nt between the men before Balantyne continued, ‘Inspector Martin had come to pick me up for a management training conference. We were parked on the high street working out the best route when she suddenly began to feel sick. She was embarrassed at the idea of throwing up in front of people, so I suggested we drive to a quiet lane I knew around the corner. I was concerned that she was ill and perhaps she shouldn’t be going to the conference. And that’s when she confessed to me she was pregnant. Like you I was surprised, but it was none of my business.’
Scribbling Balantyne’s words down, the officer asked, ‘And when did your wife turn up?’
‘I suppose it was ten minutes after we’d parked. We were sitting there and Claire … I mean the Inspector, she was trying to gather herself together, when there was a huge crash and the back windscreen was smashed. Obviously afterwards we realised it was Emma putting a stone through the back of the car, but we both jumped out and there was Emma.’
The officer frowned. ‘Why did she do that?’
The irritation came back into Balantyne’s voice. ‘I have no idea, I only can guess that she saw me and wanted to get her own back.’
‘What do you mean, sir?’
Taking a sip of his coffee, Balantyne gazed at the officer who was young and clearly eager to make an impression, maybe too eager. Balantyne knew he had to be careful. He also knew that he was going to play the officer for a fool. He raised an eyebrow. ‘Off the record?’
At first the officer looked dubious but then he put down his pen on the table and said, ‘Yes, sir, off the record.’
‘You see I feel like I’m betraying Emma by saying this, but she’s a chronic alcoholic. The first thing she does in the morning is drink and she doesn’t stop until she passes out at night.’
‘We did find a couple of bottles of vodka in her bag. One was empty.’
‘Exactly, and it’s tragic, really. I’ve kept it a secret, of course, because I wanted to protect her, but many a night I’ve sat up worried sick about her. It’s very difficult for me to leave her when I go to work, you can imagine how worried I am about her.’
The officer smiled, sympathetically. ‘Yes, sir. It must be very difficult.’
Feigning gratitude, Balantyne reached across and touched the officer’s arm. ‘Thank you. Anyway … and you can write this next part down …’
The officer enthusiastically picked up his pen again as Balantyne continued to talk. ‘We’d had a row; it was about her drinking. I was on edge because I had to go to the conference, and I was scared to leave her because by the time I’d got up she’d already started drinking. I’d thrown her hidden bottles of booze away, and maybe that was a mistake, but she was furious with me. She even hit me. That’s not unusual either. Anyhow, I left and I guess she must have followed me and that when she saw me she was angry with me. Angry and drunk.’
‘And that’s when she threw the stone and when you and the Inspector got out of the car?’
‘That’s right, and then we saw it was Emma. She was beside herself. I was trying to coax her into the car. I wanted to drive her back home.’
‘What about the Inspector?’
Balantyne sighed. ‘I already told you, she wasn’t well. I didn’t think it was wise for her to take Emma home in the state she was. As I say she can be violent and I’m used to it.’
‘So then what did Mrs Balantyne do?’
‘Well it all happened so quickly. I walked across to tell the Inspector I was going to take Emma home or at least try, and then the next thing I hear the car start up behind me. Emma’s in the driving seat revving the engine. I tell her to get out of the car, but she wouldn’t. She had a wild look in her eyes. It was like she was in her own world. I was begging her but she ignored me. Then she suddenly screamed, I’m going to kill her, and the next thing I know she drives the car right into the Inspector.’
The officer stayed silent for a few seconds as his eyes glanced down his notes. Eventually he said, ‘Why would she say that though, sir? Why would she say, I’m going to kill her?’
Balantyne narrowed his gaze. ‘I don’t know, officer, I mean, why do we say anything? And as I said before, we can hardly work out why an inebriated person says something, can we?’
‘I suppose not.’
Taking a deep breath as he clenched his fists tightly under the table, Balantyne said, ‘Now will that be all, officer?’
‘But why didn’t she want to kill you? Why did she want to kill the Inspector?’
The tight smile appeared again on Balantyne’s face. ‘Who knows? I don’t suppose she knows herself. She’s always had a thing about the Inspector. You might’ve heard that a couple of years ago she stormed into a party and accused me of all sorts, you know, that I was having an affair with Inspector Martin.’
‘I had heard that and you’re saying it wasn’t true?’
A flash of anger came into Balantyne’s eyes. ‘I’m saying it’s none of your business – but for the record, no, I wasn’t having an affair. Emma was – and always will be – paranoid. She’s jealous. So maybe there’s your motive. Maybe Emma got into her head again that I was seeing the Inspector … Now if you don’t mind, I need to go. There really isn’t anything else to tell you.’
The officer stared at Balantyne and spoke slowly. ‘Obviously it’s not my decision, but you do know after what you’ve just told me, your wife will be charged? I understand she’s already got history of drink driving?’
Balantyne nodded. ‘That’s how she got the scar on her face.’
‘So you do realise it won’t just be a slap on the wrist?’
Balantyne leant in. ‘Constable, I’ve been in the force for a number of years, probably before you were even able to wipe the shit from your bum properly, so I do know exactly what’s going to happen. And as much as I’d rather Emma be able to come home with me, I realise that the rules can’t be bent just for my wife.’
The officer continued to stare at Balantyne. ‘The problem is though, sir … Once we’ve got all the evidence it’s likely your wife’s going to be charged with attempted murder.’
Not wanting to show the officer his relief on hearing the news, Balantyne just nodded but a moment later something struck him. He looked directly at the officer. ‘What do you mean by all the evidence … What other evidence?’
‘Apparently Inspector Martin had a dashcam on her car, so we need to get that and check it. But it’ll back up your story and the good thing is most of the dashcams record audio from inside of the car …’
29
It was midday Monday morning and Officer Brown stood in the doorway of Franny’s cell. ‘Got a new cell mate for you, Doyle.’
Emma Balantyne stood in a daze, staring at Franny, who glared back and said, ‘I’m on remand so I shouldn’t have to have a cell mate.’
Officer Brown smirked. ‘And so is she. Perhaps you can swap stories over a bedtime cup of tea.’
Franny’s face turned into a snarl. ‘Piss off and get her out of here.’
Officer Brown’s face mirrored Franny’s snarl. ‘Watch your mouth, Doyle; the fact is you’ve got no choice. This isn’t the Holiday Inn, so like it or not you two are going to cosy up and you might as well get used to that fact.’
‘Is that right?’
‘Oh yeah, Doyle, so suck it up.’
Incensed, and with her emotions all churned up after the visit from Alfie, Franny stood and marched across to Emma. Then without warning she slapped her across the face before turning to Officer Brown.
‘Now you can’t have me in the same cell as her. So it’s you who’s got no choice. You know the rules, Officer Brown; any prisoner showing any signs of violence towards their cell mate has to be moved.’ She stopped and turned back to Emma and smiled apologetically. ‘No hard feelings, sweetheart, it’s nothing personal.’
With Emma rubbing her cheek and in shock from what just happened, Officer Brown’s face went red with anger. She pulled Emma out of the cell roughly before locking Franny in it.
She spoke angrily through the flap. ‘I’ll be back soon to deal with you, Doyle, but consider your privileges well and truly stopped.’
As Officer Brown dragged Emma roughly down the corridor to another cell, Emma, humiliated and upset, yelled, ‘Get your fucking hands off me. This place is full of animals and you’re no better … I said, get your hands off me!’
‘Just keep it shut.’
Emma, almost hysterical now, continued to yell and cry as the other women on the landing watched on. ‘Or what? What are you going to do to me? Put me in a cell again with another crazy woman?’
Officer Brown – who was certainly not in the mood for any kind of trouble amongst the women – said, ‘If you don’t keep it down I’m going to place you in a seg cell; that way you can scream all you like and bother no one. Now come on.’
Trying to pull her arm free of the officer’s grip, Emma snapped, ‘I shouldn’t be here! I didn’t do it. I’m not like all these people here. I’m not a criminal. Do you hear me! I didn’t do it! There’s been some kind of mistake!’
Officer Brown stopped walking to turn and stare at Emma in contempt. Her voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘Yeah, you and everyone else in here. The jail is full of innocent people.’
Emma’s eyes blazed with anger. ‘But it’s true, I didn’t do it!’
‘Yeah, yeah, whatever. Save it for your solicitor. I’ve still got several hours to go before my shift ends, so I don’t want to listen to your shit.’
‘How dare you! How dare you speak to me like that? Who do you think you are? Do you know who my husband is?’
Officer Brown’s eyes darted around, and she grabbed Emma even tighter around her arm before pulling her into a side room. She spoke firmly but quietly, her face inches away from Emma’s. ‘If I were you I’d keep the fact that your husband’s a copper very quiet. As you can imagine the police aren’t exactly the women’s best friends, so if they hear even a whisper about you being married to one, I can’t guarantee you’ll walk out of here in one piece. Do I make myself clear?’