by Conrad Jones
‘Plenty of space in Keswick,’ Alan said, frowning. ‘It was nothing to do with being asked for a DNA sample?’
‘Nope. I’ve given you one.’
‘You consented to giving one since we arrested you,’ Alan said. ‘That’s not quite the same as volunteering one.’
‘Whatever. It’s done now,’ Wayne said. ‘It’s not a big deal, is it?’
‘It might be,’ Alan said. ‘The first thing we’re going to do is compare the sample you gave against the semen found in a used condom we found at the boatyard.’ Wayne flushed red. ‘Do you know anything about a used condom in the toilet aboard the Wave Rider?’
‘No,’ Wayne said. He was lying. Alan could taste the lie it was so obvious.
‘I think you do,’ Alan said. ‘You know a bit about boats, don’t you?’
‘A bit.’
‘You’re a plumber, so you know a bit about how the toilets work?’
‘I’m a heating engineer,’ Wayne said.
‘Same thing,’ Alan said. Wayne shook his head. ‘You work with pipes full of water, just like a plumber except yours are hot.’
‘If you say so,’ Wayne said.
‘Is there a question here?’ Doreen asked.
‘I’m getting to it,’ Alan said. ‘My point is the toilets on a boat like the Wave Rider have a waste tank which is usually full of powerful chemicals.’ Alan paused and waited for Wayne to react. He was uncomfortable. ‘The chemicals would usually destroy any evidence flushed down the toilet.’ He paused. ‘You know that don’t you?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘But the tank had been drained,’ Alan said. ‘Because it was out of the water. It was used by three men to urinate and someone flushed a used condom down there too. Of course, we’ve tested the DNA because everything is still intact. Luckily for us, the chemicals weren’t in the tank.’ Alan watched Wayne struggling. His face said he was panicking inside. ‘You’ve done some work at the boatyard recently, haven’t you?’
‘I’ve done the odd job there,’ Wayne said. ‘Fitting boilers and radiators in boats.’
‘But not on the Wave Rider,’ Alan said.
‘No.’
‘I want you to understand completely what I’m saying,’ Alan said. ‘Because the Wave Rider was being repaired, the system was drained. The waste tank was dry.’ Alan waited for a reaction. ‘So, we know three men took a piss onboard the boat. Carlos Vincentia and Claus Vincentia were two of them. I think the other man was you.’ Alan stared at Wayne. He couldn’t hold eye contact. ‘Anything to tell us?’
‘No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘I’m talking about the condom you used to rape Michelle Branning,’ Alan said. ‘The DNA will tell us the semen is yours and the vaginal cells on the latex belong to Michelle Branning.’ Doreen took off her glasses and stared at Wayne. She looked horrified. ‘You raped her, discarded the condom and took a piss, thinking the chemicals would destroy any evidence.’
‘I’m going to advise my client to say nothing further at this point,’ Doreen said. ‘And I would request a break so, I can advise him further.’
‘Have you got anything to add?’ Alan asked.
‘No comment.’
Chapter 42
Len Jobson waited patiently in the visitor’s block. They were searched and processed before being shown into the visiting area. He filed in and waited until he was shown to his seat. The prisoners were brought in, greeted their visitors and were seated. Len didn’t know the man he was visiting but they pretended they were old friends. Reggie Quinn had arranged it. Len shook his hand and smiled thinly. His name was Tommy Doyle. He was serving fifteen years for a nasty armed robbery in which a security guard was shot. Tommy was an old friend of the Quinns. They had used him several times on bank jobs. Len wanted to see the man who had murdered his son. He wanted to see his face. Cutting his face would have been better but he was in the hands of the law now in the relative safety of the penal system. It was bittersweet. The police had caught him using DNA evidence. The best type of evidence there was. Evidence that couldn’t be tampered with or made to lie. There was hair in Katrina’s hand and it belonged to Carlos Vincentia. A German. A German fairground worker. Len had to see him for himself. It was a morbid curiosity.
‘Len Jobson,’ Tommy said. ‘An absolute pleasure to meet you.’
‘Likewise,’ Len said. His eyes were focused on Carlos Vincentia. The German was being visited by a skinny woman with bad teeth. Probably an ex with fuck all better to do. How any woman could visit a nonce was beyond Len. ‘That’s Vincentia over there,’ Len said. ‘His brother isn’t in here.’
‘He hasn’t got a visit today,’ Tommy said. ‘Don’t worry. I know who they are. They stick together on the wing but they’re not popular. No one has any time for beasts in here. Fucking nonces will get their prison stripes when we have the chance.’
‘Beasts never were liked inside, even when I was a lad,’ Len said. ‘You know what needs to be done?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll take the money in cash to your missus at your house as soon as I get the word it’s been done, okay?’ Len asked. Tommy nodded. ‘And I’ll stick a little bonus in there for your kids if I get photographs. I need to know they suffered. You know what I mean.’
‘Leave it with me,’ Tommy said. ‘I won’t let you down.’
Chapter 43
Carlos went back to his cell and jumped onto his bunk. His visit had killed an hour and delivered a small block of weed. Skunk. The good stuff. Diane had smuggled it in wrapped in clingfilm to mask the smell and stuffed it up her tush. Clever girl Diane. Nice tush too. She wasn’t too bright but she could suck for England. Always handy to have a girl like that in your contact list. Especially when everyone else has fucked you off because you’ve been charged with rape and murder. That’s when you see who your true friends are. As it turned out, Carlos had none. His cellmate Donny walked in and climbed onto the top bunk. Donny was a fat nonce from Deeside, in for grooming children online. Fucking pervert. Messing with kids was wrong, Carlos thought.
‘How was your visit?’ Donny asked, opening a bag of crisps.
‘Great. I was sitting there with a massive hard on and couldn’t go near her. It’s cruel in here,’ Carlos moaned.
‘That’s what you get in here. Fuck all,’ Donny said. ‘There are a lot of rumours about you. You’re the talk of the north out there on the landings.’
‘Why are they talking about me?’
‘Because they have fuck all else to do,’ Donny said. ‘They say you killed three people?’
‘Who says that?’ Carlos asked.
‘They. They say. Everyone. They.’ Donny went quiet. ‘The whispers on the landings. You know how it is.’
‘Not really but I’ll take your word for it,’ Carlos said.
‘They say you killed two women and a guy?’
‘What else do they say?’
‘They say you stuffed a guy and his woman in an oil drum and dumped them in a pond. They say you would have got away with it but someone drained the water out of it?’ Donny asked.
‘They know too much in here. How do they know that when I haven’t told them?’
‘The screws love to gossip. They are the ones in the know,’ Donny said. ‘If you want to know anything about another con, ask a screw. They can’t help themselves.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
‘Is that true?’
‘No. I’m innocent,’ Carlos said.
‘We’re all innocent but is that true?’ Donny asked. ‘Did they drain the pond?’
‘Yes. They drained the fucking pond.’ Carlos shook his head in disbelief. ‘Can you actually believe that?’
‘That is sick, man,’ Donny said.
‘Sick,’ Carlos agreed.
‘Who was the other woman you killed?’
‘That one isn’t on me,’ Carlos said.
‘They said you raped the woman and threw her
into the sea?’
‘I fucked her but I didn’t kill anyone,’ Carlos said. ‘My brother had her too but she was alive when we left. She was on another planet but she was breathing fresh air. And that is the truth.’
‘Sounds like bullshit to me, man,’ Donny said, munching. ‘I’ll tell you another thing too.’
‘I’m all ears,’ Carlos said.
‘They say the guy you killed and stuffed in the barrel was connected,’ Donny said. He lowered his voice.
‘Connected to who?’ Carlos asked.
‘The heavy mob,’ Donny said, laughing. ‘You picked on the wrong dude.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘They say his father is a hitman for an outfit in Liverpool.’ Carlos got off his bunk and stood up. He looked Donny in the eye.
‘Are you shitting me?’ Carlos asked.
‘Nope. They are saying there’s a hit on you, man.’
‘Is that what they’re saying?’ Carlos asked, shaking his head. ‘Sounds like bullshit to me.’
‘I’m just telling you what they’re saying,’ Donny said. ‘You better watch your back, man.’
Chapter 44
Claus was lying on his bunk, reading a book about Fred West. He was impressed by just how fucked up the guy was and his missus was even worse than he was. It was comforting to know there were some really evil people out there. Torturing their own kids and burying them in their garden. That is sick, crazy sick. Not right in the head sick. Claus had sometimes questioned his own sanity. When they were much younger, he had wondered if Carlos and he were sick but as time went by, he decided they were probably less sick than most other people. They were different but acted with clarity. It was a personal preference. They chose to do what they did and they were good at it. Yes, they drugged women for sex but don’t all men do that? The drug they used was Flunitrazepam whereas the rest of society used alcohol and money to woo their targets. He had seen nightclubs many times and watched the interaction with interest. Females dress to attract males and then moan when they get attention from males they don’t like. Tell a woman she looks sexy and you’ll get a positive response if she likes you. If she doesn’t, you’re a pervert. A sex pest. Not every man can have a sixpack stomach and great cheekbones. Flunitrazepam levelled the playing field.
The first time they used roofies, the girl was nineteen and fit as fuck. She was way out of their league, prancing around wiggling her arse like a show pony. All the guys on the fairground were staring at her with their tongues hanging out. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t look twice at Carlos or him. He remembered watching the drug take effect, seeing her eyes roll. They got her back to their caravan and undressed her. It was like unwrapping a Christmas present that breathed. She was amazing. Claus remembered thinking it was the most exciting thing he had ever done and they talked about her for weeks. He still had her pictures on his phone. The police would be looking at them on his phone and hundreds of others but they would never find out who she was. Some guys spent weeks courting a woman and spent a fortune and still didn’t get laid. Carlos and Claus had sex with them anyway they wanted and they didn’t have all the hassle of dating them. Who was crazy?
The cell door opened and three prisoners slipped inside, closing it behind them. Claus opened his mouth to scream for help but they shoved a pair of socks in and taped his mouth shut. He gagged and felt burning bile in the back of his throat. He began to choke. Strings of vomit spurted from his nostrils. One of the men showed him the picture of a young man he vaguely remembered.
‘Remember him?’ the man said. ‘Leo Jobson. His father sends his regards.’
They threw boiling liquid into his face. It scalded him. The pain was intense but didn’t subside. It was homemade napalm. The water was laced with sugar and ketchup, which clung to the skin like napalm, burning it deep. His eyes were stinging. He saw one of them loading tins of beans into a towel. His vision was blurred but he saw the towel swung high in the air. The tins impacted with his face, splitting the skin and shattering bones. He felt it impact over and over until his skull was mush and more of his brains were on the pillow than in his cranium.
Chapter 45
Alan and Kim went back into the interview room. Wayne had his head in his hands. Doreen was scribbling onto her tablet with an iPen. She looked stressed. Kim ran through the necessaries and they began again.
‘I take it you’ve been advised by your solicitor. Is there anything you want to say?’ Alan asked.
‘My client is willing to read a statement but will not answer any more questions,’ Doreen said.
‘Are you sure you want to do that before we present our questions?’ Alan asked. ‘I wouldn’t advise doing it that way.’
‘He won’t answer any more questions. If what you told me is the truth, read the statement,’ she snapped at Wayne. He looked at it like a moody teenager, deciding what to do. ‘If it isn’t the truth, don’t say anything,’ she added. Alan didn’t think Wayne had told her the truth. He hoped he hadn’t told the truth. Liars always trip up. They waited a few minutes before he spoke. Wayne read from a sheet of paper.
‘Last Sunday about five o’clock, I was walking from my car near the boatyard on Newry Beach, when I noticed my ex-girlfriend, Michelle Branning with two men. I hadn’t seen either of them before. They were walking either side of her, holding her by the elbows. She appeared to be drunk. They went into a boatyard and climbed up some steps onto the back of a cruiser, opened the hatch and went inside. I was intrigued and waited a while to see what would happen. After about twenty-minutes, the men came out of the boat, closed the hatch and left. They walked up the Newry towards the fairground. I was curious and went down to the boat to speak to Michelle. I knocked on the door and then opened it. Michelle was on the bed, drunk but conscious.’
Alan exchange glances with Kim. They knew what was coming next.
‘I chatted with her and then we kissed. One thing led to another and we had sex. Consensual sex. After we had sex, I used the toilet, disposed of the condom and left. Michelle was asleep and in good health when I left the boat.’ He looked up. ‘That’s all I have to say.’
‘So, that’s the best you can do?’ Alan said, shaking his head. ‘You expect us to believe she had sex with you and then you left and that’s it?’
‘No comment.’
‘Are you sure that’s your best version of events?’ Alan asked.
‘No comment.’
‘I suggest you watch this CCTV footage which was brought to our attention yesterday.’ Wayne went white. Doreen took off her glasses again and sat back, resigned to the fact they were about to be blindsided. ‘It’s taken by a security camera. The marina flats suffered from a spate of break-ins a few years ago and the balcony was the point of entry in each case. This camera was placed to monitor the balcony of flat number eight in case of burglary. It covers the Wave Rider and the area around that part of the dock. Play the footage.’
The images were clear. Carlos Vincentia and Claus left the boat, smiling and laughing. They walked towards the Newry and quickly went out of shot. The figure of Wayne Best appeared. He was acting suspiciously, hands in his pockets, peering in the portholes of the boat. Then he climbed up the steps and went inside, closing the hatch behind him. Alan fast forwarded the footage. Half an hour went by. Wayne opens the hatch and walks out of the cabin, holding Michelle by the arm. She was naked from the waist down and looked unsteady on her feet. He frogmarched her towards the dock wall. It was no more than ten yards from the boat. Michelle tried to resist as he turned her around and pushed her over the edge. She fell ten feet into the sea and went under. The camera showed Wayne standing on the dock for a minute before he walked away, hands in his pockets, head down. Michelle didn’t resurface. They stopped the footage and waited for Wayne to comment. Doreen was sitting in silence, white as a sheet.
‘I didn’t mean to kill her. I was trying to sober her up,’ Wayne said. Doreen shook her head and closed her eyes
. ‘She went under and didn’t come up. I thought she would come straight back up and climb up the ladder.’
‘Wayne Best, I’m charging you with the rape and murder of Michelle Branning,’ Alan said.
Chapter 46
Donny was escorted by the librarian to the far side of the library. Tommy Doyle was sitting at a desk with two of his cronies. They didn’t have a straight nose between them. All three men looked like they had sprinted full speed into an oncoming bus. They were very frightening men and they didn’t like nonces. Donny was particularly disliked because he wasn’t just a sex offender, he favoured children. He was at the bottom of the food chain, the lowest of the low and he knew it. Life inside was terrifying for a paedophile like Donny. He had a target on his back and was fair game for anyone with the inclination to kick his face in on a whim. Paedos were the prison punchbags. He was constantly looking over his shoulder.
‘Here he is. Donny-dirty-dick,’ Tommy said, as he approached the table. The men stared at Donny with hatred and disgust in their eyes. ‘Sit down you horrible cretin.’ Tommy said, pointing to a chair.
‘I’m okay standing,’ Donny said. The librarian punched him in the testicles and Donny dropped to his knees. He was bent double by the pain.
‘If I say sit down, then you sit down.’ The men picked him up and sat him opposite Tommy. ‘Do you know why you’re here?’
‘I can take a guess it is to do with my cellmate,’ Donny said, quietly. He didn’t want to provoke another attack. ‘What do you want?’
‘Your cellmate smokes a bit of weed, doesn’t he?’ Tommy asked. Donny nodded, still unable to breathe properly. Tommy held out a readymade spliff. ‘Take this with you. When you get back to the cell, light this up and take one drag.’ Tommy held up his finger. ‘One drag, understand?’ Donny nodded. ‘Then give it to Carlos.’
‘Okay,’ Donny said. ‘I can do that. What’s in it?’
‘If you take more than one drag, you’ll find out,’ Tommy said, a twisted smile on his face. ‘Do as you’re told and then go to the showers.’
