by Keith Nixon
“The doctor prescribed them. Who am I to argue?”
“You should have said.”
“I’m under no obligation to tell you or anyone else anything. Besides, Carslake knew everything. In fact, he ordered me to visit Mallory.”
“That’s not how the DCI sees it.”
Gray looked from Hamson to Pennance. The realisation struck him like a freight train. It explained why he’d seen nothing of Carslake.
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he said.
“Looks like the old boys’ club isn’t such a friendly place, after all.”
“I’ve nothing else to say.”
“That won’t help you.”
“You’re right, I’ll get that lawyer now.”
“Is there anyone you’d like?”
“The duty solicitor will do.”
Hamson nodded and ended the interview.
Two further interviews over the rest of the day brought more questions about Tanya and Scully. Hamson kept hammering away, Pennance sitting back, seeing all and saying nothing, the duty solicitor interjecting periodically. Gray kept repeating that he had nothing more to say until Hamson gave up and had him returned to the cell for the night.
The next morning Morgan unlocked the cell door. Gray groaned and stood up. He’d slept poorly again and eaten very little of his breakfast.
When he entered the interview room with his solicitor there was a change. No Pennance. In his place was Carslake, Hamson by his side in the subordinate role. Time was reaching the point where either they had to make the charge stick, or release him.
“How are you, DS Gray?” Carslake, elbows on the table, leaned over, a déjà vu of sorts from ten years prior. Carslake interviewing Gray once again.
Gray wasn’t about to reveal anything. “Stupendous, sir.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Are you?”
“Of course.”
“Where have you been? Where were you when I needed you?”
Carslake’s expression hardened while Hamson shrunk in on herself.
“The charges against you are very serious.”
“I don’t mean now. For the last decade you’ve gradually pulled away, Jeff. You’ve let me drift.”
“These charges follow on from mental health issues and an accusation of rape.”
“The rape accusation was recanted and has no bearing on the current allegations,” said Gray’s solicitor.
Carslake nodded to accept the point.
“What mental health issues?” asked Hamson.
It was as if the two of them were holding separate conversations.
“Where were you?” shouted Gray. He slammed his fist onto the table top.
Carslake face reddened, the only outward response to Gray’s question. “Due process has to be carried out.”
“Like last time? When Tom disappeared?”
“That was different!” snapped Carslake. “We were on the same side.”
“What about now, Jeff?”
“Due process has to be followed,” repeated Carslake.
“You were my friend!”
Carslake blinked. He quietly said, “I still am.”
“Not from where I’m sitting. On the wrong side of the table.”
“Due process—”
“I know!” interrupted Gray. “It has to be followed. Change the record.”
“Chief Inspector,” said Gray’s solicitor, “either charge my client or let him go.”
“Detective Sergeant Gray, we are releasing you on bail, pending further investigation. Regardless of the outcome there will be a formal enquiry into your conduct,” said Carslake and pushed himself upright. “Please show DS Gray out, DI Hamson, then come up to my office.” The door banged behind Carslake.
“Getting time with the DCI after all, Von? I told you to be careful what you wished for.”
Hamson ignored the jibe. “You’ve really let me down, Sol. If you’d just been straight with me on the beach, we could have avoided most of this.”
She stood and held the door open for Gray and his solicitor. She wouldn’t meet his eye.
Hamson signed Gray out, handing back his personal belongings. She led him to the front desk.
“Do I get a lift?” Gray asked.
“No,” said Hamson said and walked away.
“Bye, then.”
Gray stepped outside. He didn’t have anyone to call and not enough cash in his pocket for a taxi. It was the bus, then.
It started to rain as he walked to the nearest stop. The cold water on Gray’s face brought with it some clarity. What Hamson had said about the CCTV dropped into place. He needed to speak to her, but couldn’t go back to the station. It would look wrong. And they’d taken his work mobile.
So Gray had to wait until he reached home, all the while his suspicions growing.
Forty Four
As soon as Gray got home he sank a large measure of whisky for medicinal purposes. He poured a second drink and carried it up to the bathroom. He took a hot shower in an effort to tackle the rawness at the back of his throat which promised the mother of all colds.
He’d been soaked to the skin while he waited for the bus. No shelter to hide under. His transport, when it finally arrived, was slow. The bus took a circuitous route between Margate, Ramsgate, and Broadstairs and he’d observed most of the three towns at a snail’s pace through rain-speckled glass.
In pyjamas and dressing gown he surveyed the damage wrought by the investigating officers. It wasn’t too bad considering, although his attic room was the emptiest he’d seen it in a decade. They’d taken every last scrap of paper.
***
The knock came when Gray was heading downstairs for another drink. Hamson was on the step. Downcast, yet defiant. The rain was still lashing down.
“I know, you were just doing your job,” he said.
“Doing Carslake’s.”
Gray left Hamson there and went through to the kitchen, opened a cupboard, groped for what he wanted. The door slammed shut and Gray felt her presence beside him.
“Want one?” Gray waved the whisky bottle at Hamson.
“Can I get a shot in a coffee?”
“It’s malt, you heathen.”
“I need caffeine and booze.”
“As it’s you.” The kettle went on the hob. While the water heated, he leaned on the work surface and crossed his arms. “Well?”
“Yes, I’ve got it.” Hamson showed him a USB stick.
“Laptop?” A shift of her shoulder showed Gray the bag hanging. “Seeing as mine’s yet to be returned.”
“Care to tell me what’s going on?”
“When I’m a little further down the path of righteousness.”
“What?”
“My little joke.”
He watched Hamson while he made the drinks. She smoked two cigarettes in quick succession huddled beneath an umbrella. She’d refused the option to stay inside. It seemed to be her way of being clean about a dirty habit. He realised that her presence at his house meant Hamson was about as far away from everyone else as she could get.
“I’ll swap you,” he said, held out the mug of alcohol-laced coffee. She took a deep swallow, careless of the liquid’s temperature, holding out the cigarette packet with the other hand, exposing herself to the rain.
“What about you?” she asked.
Gray extracted the whisky bottle from his pocket. Hamson managed a weak smile.
“You’re getting wet,” she said. “Get underneath the brolly.”
They stood shoulder to shoulder. She drew on her cigarette. Gray smelled menthol. A check on the front of the packet confirmed his suspicion. He hated them. It was like having a cough sweet. Despite deep reservations he popped the cigarette between his lips and handed the rest back. He patted his pockets. “Got a light?”
A brief kiss of the ember. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” said Hamson. She lit another cigarette and dro
pped the dead end onto the grass. “Sorry, I’ll pick them up before I go.”
“Because it’s so tidy otherwise.” He waved an expansive arm at the surrounding jungle.
“I’m also sorry about what you had to go through. I sat outside in the car for ten minutes before I could bring myself to knock.”
“We’re friends.” And he needed all the friends he could get. Carslake no longer fit the description. Now that he thought about it, Carslake hadn’t been a friend in a long time. Gray just hadn’t been able to admit it. “What did Carslake say?”
“I haven’t been up to see him yet.”
“Ignoring a direct order, Von? Whatever next?”
“A major bollocking, for sure.”
Gray didn’t try to console Hamson. They both would’ve seen it for the lie it was.
“You’d better get back,” he said. “Get it over with.”
“I know, just not yet though.” Hamson raised her coffee. “Dutch courage.”
***
Hamson climbed into her car and slowly drove away. As soon as she was out of sight Gray shifted away from the curtain, headed back into the kitchen and fired up the laptop. He tilted the computer, looking for a USB port, then plugged in the flash drive.
In seconds a new window popped up, a folder containing one file. Gray put his finger on the mouse pad and awkwardly shunted the arrow over the file. He clicked twice to open. The file was a video clip, a montage of grainy CCTV camera footage following his stagger through Broadstairs. About thirty seconds in he saw himself stop and strike up a conversation with a familiar person.
This was it.
Forty Five
She was seated, as always, on her pew in St Peter’s Church. Gray slipped in next to her.
“Hello, Alice.”
“Solomon,” she said, not taking her eyes from the stained-glass window. “Pleasant to see you again.” She patted the space next to her on the pew. He sat down beside her, sharing her perspective on the world.
“I know everything,” he said.
“Only God knows everything.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Kill them all? Was it a message from God?”
“Don’t be so crass, Solomon.”
“I have video footage tying you to me just before Scully was murdered. It looks like we spoke, although I don’t remember what was said.”
Gray’s evidence was thin, circumstantial at best. But Alice was a pious woman, and he was gambling on her conscience getting the best of her.
“And if we go back and look at footage of Tanya’s last minutes on earth, I bet we’ll find you there too.”
“You’ve been such a disappointment,” she said eventually. “To me, to Kate, to your children, to God.”
“More of a disappointment than Reverend Hill?”
Alice looked at him. “I came into the station to tell you. To confess all. You took a long time. Too long. I changed my mind and left. Then you met her. On the harbour arm.” When he and Tanya had drunk coffee beside the shell lady. So Alice had been his visitor at the station that day, not Tanya.
“Tell me.”
Alice nodded. There seemed no reluctance on her behalf to speak. “You know I act in an administrative role for the church. David had always said he was pretty useless when it came to anything computer-orientated. I did people’s books when I was younger, before my husband came home from the war and we had children. So, I offered to help.
“David was all too happy to accept. I taught myself how to use a computer. Quite something for a person of my age, I can tell you. I was going through some files and I found them…” Alice shuddered, unable to verbalise what was in her memory.
Gray let her pause, to expunge the memory before he asked, “What?”
“Pictures of children. Horrible, disgusting pictures. Some of the acts being committed, I couldn’t believe my eyes.” Her hand flew to her chest at the memory. “As I clicked through I felt someone behind me. I turned around and there he was, David, standing in the doorway, frozen in shock, eyes on the screen. He started to protest his innocence, said he was investigating child abuse, building up evidence, not perpetrating it. I left the house as quickly as I could. I wasn’t able to look at him. He made me sick to my stomach.
“I wandered home. It’s only a few minutes away, but it took me an hour. I don’t know what happened in between. All the time I was thinking about what I’d seen. I felt so betrayed. The church, it’s been my life, and David took it all away from me in those few seconds. So I decided to take his.
“I went upstairs, got the revolver, put it in my handbag and returned in my car.”
“What revolver?” interrupted Gray.
“Art’s.”
“A drawing?”
“Art was my husband! God rest him.” Alice made the sign of the cross on her chest.
“Why did he have a gun?”
“I didn’t think to ask him. He was an American GI. Why wouldn’t he have a gun? Besides, don’t all Americans own at least one gun? Anyway, I found David kneeling at the altar, begging forgiveness of God! As if he could be exonerated from such vile acts! He should burn in Hell. So I shot him like the animal he was.”
“Where?”
“In the head first. He was clearly dead. I couldn’t help putting one more into his body, just to be sure. Men like him shouldn’t exist on this earth.”
“What about the computer?”
“I locked up the church so no one would find David’s body until I was ready. I sat in his study and forced myself to look at everything. It took me all night. Worse still, I found another. A man called Scully. Abusing the weak and the powerless. It was disgusting.”
“You should have brought this to the police.”
“I tried. But you wouldn’t give me the time of day, you just brushed past me. And Scully, he hid in plain sight, reporting on a child abuse story when he was part of it.”
“Pointing the finger of suspicion elsewhere?”
“Yes, and you fools fell for it.”
“None of this is my fault.”
“Like Kate and Tom weren’t your fault?”
Gray spoke through gritted teeth. “Don’t bring my family into this.”
“You have no family, Solomon.”
“That makes two of us.”
Alice nodded her head once at Gray in acceptance of his barb. “But I have God. Where was I? Oh yes, eventually I surmised it was God’s test. Much like the way he challenged Job's loyalty through famine, loss, and death. It was God's way of seeing if I still believed. The church is out of favour, but I am still His willing servant.”
Gray attempted to steer her back on track. “Where’s the computer now?”
“In the boot of my car. It couldn’t stay in the vicarage.”
“What about Tanya?”
“Your slut?”
Gray almost slapped Alice.
“You remember I said David saw you as his mission? Well, that wasn’t quite true. You were mine. I wanted to bring you back. She was leading you astray. And you entered the sanctity of union with Kate.”
“Kate’s dead.”
“So’s Art, but I still wear his ring.” Alice showed Gray the gold band. “It’s a commitment for life, both your lives.”
“Kate’s dead,” repeated Gray.
“I know, I was there.”
“You were there? What do you mean? She was alone when she died.”
“You’ll have to wait for that revelation, Solomon. Because of your commitment to Kate I kept a close eye on you, with your woman. When you committed your act of adultery with that whore, I felt so let down. You betrayed my best friend. And your whore wore scarlet, the very colour of sin. It was a sign. I followed her onto the beach when she went down to see the rising sun. She deserved to die.
“But Art’s gun wouldn’t fire. The stupid harlot didn’t hear the hammer fall over the waves. I couldn’t forsake Kate. I continued my task at hand, and
as I got close, hit her with a rock. She went down in the surf. Blood started to spread in the water. She wasn’t moving. I cleared the useless bullet from the chamber, and pulled the trigger again. It fired that time.”
Gray’s stomach dropped, and he felt hollowed out. He had to press on, though.
“Where’s the gun?”
She bent down, picked up a handbag from her feet. She stuck a hand inside, pulled an old revolver from within. A Webley.
“Here.” Alice held it out for Gray to take. “Take your revenge, Solomon. Kill me.”
Gray stretched out his hand. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps he should kill her. No one would blame him. Then, before he took hold of the gun, Gray caught her smile. Her expression of beatific self-satisfaction. He shook his head, pulled his hand back.
“David was telling the truth.”
“What about?” Alice froze, confused by the change in direction.
“He was investigating child abuse. The reverend was blameless. You killed an innocent man.”
Alice blinked. “You’re lying.”
“You killed an innocent man.”
“I’ve killed before.”
“Who?”
“Only when it was deserved.”
“Who?”
“You know, Solomon. You’ve always known. I just did what you couldn’t bring yourself to. Marriage is sacrosanct.”
Gray snapped then. He made a grab for the gun. But Alice was ready for him and struck Gray on the temple with the gun butt. He fell back onto the pew, his vision blurred.
“Useless right up to the end, Solomon.” Alice raised the gun, aimed it at Gray. She pulled back on the hammer, the noise loud. There was no way she could miss.
“Do it, Alice, there’s nothing to live for.”
“You always were a coward.” Alice put the gun under her chin and, before Gray could react, pulled the trigger.
***
Gray’s ears were still ringing by the time Hamson arrived on the scene. He was spattered with Alice’s blood.
“Are you all right?” asked Hamson.
“I’m alive, so that’s a good start.”
Briefly, Gray explained what had happened.