by Helen Oliver
Finding DI Franks on duty, Hammond decided it was an opportunity to talk to the guy about his absences, usually due to illness or injury.
He asked him why, having risen to Detective Inspector, there was a specific reason for not pulling his weight?
Franks looked at him across the desk. “I’m in the wrong job. I realize there’s only one Job as far as you’re concerned. But it’s not for me.”
Hammond said, “Want to talk about it over a pint?”
Franks nodded and Hammond suggested the Coach & Horses.
*
Franks was on his second pint, and voicing worries about his pension, when Hammond made up his mind for him. The DI, it turned out, had left his wife and teenage son and was living in something not much bigger than a bedsit. And he was gambling.
Hammond said, “What sort of gambling?”
Franks shrugged. “Scratch cards, horses, fruit machines. Flies crawling up a window.”
Declining another pint, Hammond said, “You need to see the ACC, explain the position. Come clean, tell him what you’ve told me.”
“I don’t want to carry on.”
Hammond asked, “Want me to pave the way?”
Franks’s head dropped forward. “Please.”
They were silent until Hammond said, “Assuming you can beat the habit, is there anything else you’d like to do.”
“Not really, just need to keep my head above water.” He looked out of the window. “Find the money to see Simon through uni.”
“How’s he doing?”
“He’s a bright lad. I don’t want to let him down.”
Hammond rose. “C’mon, we’ll get back. You can sort out your paperwork, like everyone else.”
They were halfway up the station steps when Hammond’s mobile buzzed and his heart beat in his throat at Martin Hill’s name on the display. “DCI Hammond.”
“How’re you doing?”
Hammond took a quick breath. “Any news?”
“The lipstick. It’s Blooms’s DNA.”
“Christ, man. Thank you.”
Franks looked at him. “You okay?”
*
Kerridge said, “Take a seat,” took a packet of strong mints from a drawer and passed the open packet to Hammond.
“No, thanks.”
She peeled the paper down, dug one out. “Bring Bloom in.”
He asked, “Let the media know?”
Kerridge said, “Charge her, then leave it a few hours.”
*
Hammond and Nolan parked on the drive.
“Funny that,” Nolan said, “you don’t see them for sale.”
Hammond tugged the bell-pull.” What?”
“Those sort of trees.”
Hammond eyed the monkey puzzle. “I thought you were going to say something intelligent.”
Nolan laughed, but cut it short when Diana Bloom opened the door. Hammond said, “Good afternoon, Mrs Bloom. May we come in?” She stepped back, and he said, “You already know Detective Constable Nolan.” He paused. “It’s very quiet. Is your daughter in?”
“She’s upstairs, resting.” She gave a tired smile. “Lucy’s taken Leo to see a friend.”
“Good.” Hammond paused. “Before you let Miss Bloom know we’re here, we’d like a word with you.”
“Come in.” She gave a quick glance up the stairs. “What’s this about?”
Hammond said, “For a start, Mrs Bloom, it’s about a piece of CCTV. …We believe that last Thursday you entered Detective Sergeant Burns’s room in Intensive Care.”
She gave a little shrug. “There was nothing to stop me.”
“He held her gaze. “Can you explain the reason for your visit?”
“That’s between me and my maker.” Diana Bloom pressed her left temple. “How is she today?”
“Holding her own.”
She moved towards the stairs. “Shall I ask Harriet to come down?”
Hammond said, “Yes, please.” They watched her climb the stairs and turn left onto the landing.
Returning to the sitting room, Nolan looked out into the garden and Hammond waited near the door into the hall. At movement on the landing, Nolan moved to Hammond’s side and they watched the women come downstairs: Diana Bloom first, followed by her daughter, dressed in jeans and a floral sweat shirt.
Standing on the bottom tread, Bloom said, “I won’t say this is an unexpected pleasure.”
Hammond let a moment pass. “Harriet Bloom, I am arresting you for the attempted murder of Detective Sergeant Caroline Burns and for causing her grievous bodily harm. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in Court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.” He looked hard at her. “Do you understand?”
“I understand the rigmarole but I don’t understand the charge.”
Grey faced, Diana Bloom opened her mouth to speak. Hammond raised a hand. “I am charging you,” he said, “because on discovery of Detective Sergeant Burns’s Ford Focus, a lipstick bearing traces of your DNA was found inside.” He took a breath. “When she is brought out of an induced coma, DS Burns will be able to give details of the vicious attack.” He paused. “You will now come to Browbridge Police Station where you will be taken into custody and questioned.”
Nolan took a step towards Diana Bloom, who, unsteady on her legs, grabbed a balustrade.
Her voice shook as she looked at Bloom. “Don’t forget your bag, darling.”
“It’s in the kitchen, Mother.”
Diana Bloom said, “I’ll get it,” and pushed away from the post.
Hammond and Nolan were nearing the front door by the time Diana Bloom passed the handbag to her daughter.
Taking the bag, Bloom said, “I have something to say.”
Diana Bloom’s voice cracked. “Isn’t it better not to say anything, Harriet?”
Bloom ignored her. “I killed April. And Judi Fox.”
Diana Bloom slid to the floor, and her daughter said, “Someone get her some water.”
Nolan hurried into the kitchen and Diana Bloom began crawling back towards the first stair. Seconds later, Nolan knelt beside her. “Here, try and drink some.”
Watching her mother make a mess of grasping the glass, Harriet Bloom said, “You can’t leave her in the house. Look at the state of her.”
Hammond helped Diana Bloom to her feet. “You’ll come with us, Mrs Bloom,”
Harriet Bloom said, “Someone had better write Lucy a note.”
Nolan tore a page from his notebook and fished for a pen. He leaned against the front door and wrote a few lines.
Hammond asked, “Does Lucy have a key?”
Diana Bloom said, “Yes,” and reached into the wall cupboard to bring out her own handbag. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I’m ready now.”
*
Later, Bloom in a cell for the night, Hammond listened to the taped recording of the evening’s interview. During which, Bloom had confessed to the murder of Judi Fox at about 23.00 hours on the evening of Tuesday 17th May. On the pretext of her car breaking down , she said, she called at Dunedin, 9 Glone End, Little Brampton, and, after asking to borrow a phone, killed Judi Fox by hitting her on the head with a brick. She had dragged Miss Fox’s body to nearby Glone Wood and taken care to judge the correct size for Miss Fox’s shallow grave. Having assessed this, she dug it with a spade and fork, laid Miss Fox in it and covered her with last year’s autumn leaves. She then returned to Dunedin, took Fox’s luggage from the hallway and took it to where she’d left her Peugeot. She drove into Harrogate and dumped the luggage in a wagon on King Charles’ Field, where a fairground was about to move on. Bloom remarked that it rained during the evening, making the whole thing a very messy business.
Hammond scrolled down, typed. “Bloom showed no remorse for her actions.”
54
DC Akpata led Harriet Bloom, dressed in grey jogging bottoms and top, into Interview
Room 1.
Bloom sat beside her solicitor, Keith Carr. Hammond and Akpata, the latter notebook in hand, sat opposite. Hammond switched on the tape. “Interview with Harriet Flavia Bloom at 10.50 a.m, Monday, June 13th. Present are Detective Chief Inspector Steve Hammond, Detective Constable Kylie Akpata and Miss Bloom’s solicitor, Mr Keith Carr.
Hammond eased his shoulders. “Harriet Bloom, you have admitted to the murder of Mrs April Parsons and Miss Judi Fox. Yesterday you made a full statement pertaining to the murder of Miss Fox on the evening of Tuesday 17th May. You have also admitted to the attempted murder of Detective Sergeant Caroline Burns.” He paused. “This morning’s interview concerns the murder of April Parsons and the attempted murder of Detective Sergeant Caroline Burns. Please give yourself time to think carefully. It will help everyone if, from the start, you tell the truth.” He waited a few moments. “Tell us why you killed April Parsons.”
Bloom licked her lower lip slowly. “I was betrayed.”
Hammond waited. “We need more than that.”
Eyeing Akpata’s note-taking, Bloom said, “I looked on April as my lover, closest friend and lifetime partner. I was unaware she intended trading me in for a younger model.” She pulled a tissue from her sleeve, wiped her nose. “Apologies for the cliché.”
Hammond said, “The situation in which you found yourself had nothing to do with Detective Sergeant Burns.” He looked down for a moment, then at Bloom again. “What made you decide to make an attempt on Caroline Burns’s life?” He cleared his throat. “Which, thankfully – so far – you’ve failed to do.”
Bloom remained silent.
“Why did you try to kill DS Burns?”
“She was getting too clever.”
Hammond said, “Was this in connection with the falsification of your curriculum vitae?” He paused. “You may not realize that DS Burns knew nothing about this at the time you attacked her.” He paused. “Detective Constable Akpata was the first officer to be informed of this, when she talked to Mrs Susan Jukes the morning following your attempt on DS Burns’s life.”
Bloom said, “She talked about Durham University.”
“Who talked about Durham University?”
“DS Burns, after you’d given your impression of the Spanish Inquisition.”
Hammond said, “She may well have mentioned Durham. From which it appears you drew the wrong conclusion.”
Bloom poked her head forward. “Why don’t you stop this ludicrous waste of time? You have asked me until you’re blue in the face, about my supper with April. If you’ll listen, I’ll tell you about it.” She eyed Akpata. “If this one can keep up.”
Carr shut his eyes.
Akpata raised her pen and Hammond said, “Go on.”
Bloom took a breath. “My lover invited me for a light supper in order to inform me that our life together was over. That she was starting afresh with Judi Fox.” She swallowed painfully. “The shock cut me to ribbons; sent every cell in my body into a turmoil.”
Carr said, “My client’s remarks are indicative of her fragile state of mind.”
Ignoring him Hammond continued, “You’re leaving a fair gap, Miss Bloom, between finishing your meal and strangling April Parsons.”
Bloom spread her hands. “She had to go, but I needed to have the last word.” She smirked. “Mother used to say, ‘You always have to have the last word.” Shaking her head slowly, she said “At that point, I gave no indication I decided to have her, one last time. The last time for me and the last time for her. After which no one would have her.” She cleared her throat. “I cried a lot. Said I understood her situation; all good things come to an end. She cried. Said she was deeply grateful for the way I was taking it, and kissed me good night.”
Hammond waited. “And when you returned to Spring House?”
“There’d been a bit of a blip when I found I was almost out of petrol. Anyway, I borrowed Mother’s car.” She laughed softly. “April was in her nightie. I’d got her out of bed! She let me in and I pleaded for the precious gift of one last time. To which she agreed. April had an insatiable appetite, and I have an amazing technique. It was quite a rough and tumble in the sheets, and I ended up on the floor.” She raised an eyebrow. “I was on all fours beside the wardrobe when I spotted the fawning Worsnop’s belt.”
Hammond said, “With which you strangled April Parsons.”
Carr opened his mouth to speak, but Bloom continued, “Not until she’d given me the chance to admire her new wallpaper and was taking a sample piece from a drawer.” Her mouth twitched. “That’s when I made my move – before she turned round.”
Keith Carr said firmly, “My client is in need of medical advice.”
Bloom gave him a look. “I put the belt round her neck and twisted hard.”
Keith Carr said, “My client is – ”
“Christ’s sake, Keith, let me finish!” Bloom drew a quick breath. “April fell in a heap and I left her there. I went back into the bedroom. Made it look more or less as it was when I arrived, and got dressed.”
“Did you not run a risk,” asked Hammond, “leaving your mother’s car outside?”
Bloom waved a hand. “I was past caring. Let her prove she wasn’t the killer.” Her voice rose. “Moving on to Judi Fox–”
Carr interrupted. “Which has been covered. Miss Bloom has already made a full statement with regard to the death of Miss Fox.”
Bloom sank back in her chair and looked around the room. She made to peer at Akpata’s notes, as if checking the handwriting.
Hammond said, “You made a vicious attack on Detective Sergeant Caroline Burns. What have you to say about that?”
Bloom gave a dismissive shrug. “It could well have been set up for me. I spawned the idea in seconds. Serendipitously,” she said, separating the syllables and glancing at Akpata, “everything turned out to be at hand. This one, I told myself, is digging her own grave.” She laughed softly. ‘went to uni at Durham.’ What was that meant to do, send me spiralling out of control?” Bloom laughed through her nose. “She thought she had all the time in the world: to open her little notebook, jot down her little thoughts.” She gave a short laugh. “She probably plays Cluedo at the weekend.” A half-smile touched her lips. “Mother and Leo asleep in the summer-house. Everything fell into place.”
Akpata lifted her pen and Hammond asked, “Have you finished?”
“Not quite. I was going to say that if DS Burns doesn’t recover, I might decide not to describe her last moments.”
Hammond leaned towards the tape. “Interview terminated at 11.14.”
He stood up, went to the door, opened it and called, “Two in here, please, as soon as you like.” He returned to the table, put out his hand for Akpata’s notes and put them in his file. Keith Carr closed his notebook and slipped it into his document case.
PCs Stoppard and Haig knocked and entered. Bloom stood up, gave them an icy stare and was led away.
55
Greg called Hammond. “They’re doing blood tests.”
Hammond held his breath, “And this means?”
“I’m not sure, though Miss Webb says that if the results are what they’re hoping for, they’ll follow up with neurological tests and a scan.”
Hammond hardly dared ask. “After that?”
“I suppose they’ll bring her round. There again, I’m not sure.”
Hammond asked, “Has anyone talked about her memory?”
“No.”
“Thanks, Greg. Thanks for letting me know.”
“I’ll be in touch as soon as I hear anything else.”
*
Emma Webb looked at her screen. Scrolling down, she studied the results of Caroline Burns’s blood tests. She paused, made notes on her pad, emailed X-ray and asked for a CT scan of her patient’s brain.
The response was fast. No waiting around for this one.
Caroline Burns, dead to the world, was wheeled down to X-ray. Half an hour later Miss Webb looked
at the result and allowed herself a brief smile.
*
Putting himself in Cally’s place, Hammond did what he knew she would do if she were fit: see Kate and Colin Fox. Liz Armstrong would have told them their daughter’s killer had been charged, but he’d visit all the same. It was the least he could do.
Kate Fox came to the door. She looked puzzled, and he said, “Detective Chief Inspector Steve Hammond.”
“I know your face. You came to the funeral.”
“I did,” he said, “but I didn’t want to intrude on the day.”
She said, “Come in, please.”
He stepped inside and followed her into the living room, where Colin Fox was snoozing in a chair. Hammond put a hand on her arm. “Don’t disturb him.”
“He’d like to see you,” she said, and nudged her husband gently.
Colin Fox opened his eyes and frowned at Hammond. His wife said, “Colin, this is Mr Hammond. From the police.”
Hammond said, “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir.”
Fox shifted in his chair. “Has something happened?”
Hammond dropped onto the sofa. “Nothing new. I’ve come to ask if there’s anything you’d like us to do for you.” He paused. “You knew that Harriet Bloom has been charged with Judi’s murder?”
Colin Fox nodded, “It’s been one shock on top of another. It was hard to take in. Our daughter, you know, was on the point of going into business with Miss Bloom. Neither of us can imagine what drove an apparently normal woman to take innocent people’s lives. People who were supposed to be her friends.” He paused, his rheumy eyes fixing on Hammond’s clear blue. “Is it true, that Detective Sergeant Burns is in hospital?”
Hammond nodded. “Yes, but we’re hoping she’ll be home soon.”
*
Kerridge had said she wanted to speak to him. Hammond pulled a chair towards the end of her desk and laid a bulging file opposite her own toppling one. She angled her computer screen so they could both see it.
He let her know he’d called on Colin and Kate Fox. “Good,” she said. “How are they coping?”
“Hard to tell,” he said, “it can’t be easy.”