Make You Sorry

by Christine Rae-Jones

  Gault looked up. ‘My client has nothing to say and hasn’t had anything to eat since breakfast. We should take a break.’

  Chapter 87

  Thursday 5th March

  Danny Easton stuck with his “no comment” responses through a further four hours of questioning until Brian Gault suggested they break and start again the next day. Morgan and Patel stood in the corridor, too weary to climb the stairs to their offices.

  ‘What do you think?’ asked Morgan.

  ‘I’ve got DNA,’ said Patel. ‘I’m ringing the CPS first thing. What are you going to do about the false imprisonment?’

  ‘It’s a serious offence, although I’m not sure his heart was in it. I don’t know why he went to see her, but when she started to shout, I think he panicked. Let’s prioritise getting the murder charge for the Councillor, then follow up with the McGuires and Wesley Crook. Then we’ll take a view.’

  ‘You look tired,’ said Patel, resting her hand on his arm.

  ‘So do you.’

  ‘Let’s call it a day.’

  ‘I wish I could,’ he murmured.

  When he parked at Cliffside, Morgan was disappointed but not surprised to see that the house was in darkness. It was late and maybe he had to accept that Sam didn’t care enough about their marriage to wait up and discuss her infidelity. He sat in the dark listening to the metallic clunks as the car cooled. How could she betray him so easily, and with Fletcher, of all people? She knew how he felt about that man. Then he thought about Maisie and how his night with her made him equally as guilty. He pulled his jacket closed and got out of the car.

  He opened the front door and made another mental note to oil it. That was the trouble with squeaky front doors. You only noticed them on the way in and out when you were busy doing something else. He laid his house and car keys on the hall table and saw light under the kitchen door. Sam was already on her feet and walking towards him when he opened it. She reached out and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. ‘I’m not long back from the hospital,’ she said. ‘Mum’s going to be okay. They said it was you that did the CPR?’

  He eased her away, not wanting her gratitude. ‘Is there any of that left?’ he pointed to the glass of red wine on the breakfast bar.

  She took a glass from the cupboard and filled it. ‘I’m on my second,’ she said. ‘Are you charging him with attempted manslaughter? He cut her neck.’

  ‘What happened today will be the least of his problems. As it stands, he’s lawyered up and going “no comment” to everything we put to him. It’s going to take a while.’

  He took off his jacket and slung it across the back of a chair before gulping a mouthful of wine. He knew he couldn’t go to bed without addressing the Graham Fletcher issue but didn’t know how to start. His inner voice was taunting him. ‘You’re not innocent, either.’

  ‘Have you eaten? I could do some scrambled eggs for us both.’ Sam was watching him. ‘Are you okay? Maybe you just want some wine and then we’ll go to bed.’

  ‘Your mother told me I’m not enough for you and never have been. She also told me that since we moved here you’ve been spending quite a lot of time reviving your past with Graham Fletcher.’ He took his phone from his pocket and brandished it at her. ‘I believe I’ve still got a number of texts here where you assured me that nothing happened after the charity dinner. Now would be a good time to tell the truth.’

  Samantha froze. The calmness of Nick’s voice was in stark contrast to his words. He was looking at her, his head tilted to one side.

  ‘My mother has tried to come between us before. She’s never made any secret of the fact that she would have preferred me to marry Graham. This isn’t front page news for you.’

  Morgan clamped his lips together until they almost disappeared. ‘You need to tell the truth right now Sam, or I’m going upstairs and packing you a bag.’

  When she responded her voice was low and she spoke quickly, her right forefinger pointing towards his chest. ‘It’s not as if you’ve never strayed. We’d hardly been married five minutes before you were all over DC Alison Goddard.’

  Morgan stared at her then shook his head. ‘This isn’t about me. This is about you. All about you. You, your mother, and Graham Fletcher. Tell me the truth right now.’

  Sam held his gaze and he watched her as she weighed up her options. She took a sip of wine, playing for time. Her shoulders dropped and she sighed. ‘He made me feel young again and I was stupid enough to fall for it. I felt desirable and wanted for more than “what’s for tea and where are my trainers?”’

  ‘So it’s my fault, is it? Mine and the twins?’

  She continued as if he had not spoken. ‘He made me laugh and he looked at me when I spoke. I’ve felt more alive for these last few weeks than I have felt for years and so, I won’t say I’m sorry, but I will say that it’s over. It’s inevitable that we’ll come across each other in a place this size, but I won’t seek him out and I won’t have sex with him again. It was great, but it’s over.’ She braced herself for his reaction.

  Morgan heard Dorothy Cooper’s spiteful words repeated over and over in his head. He thought of Maisie and the fun they had shared that night. The pleasure and the laughter. He remembered that there were twelve year old twins asleep upstairs whose lives he could splinter with a single sentence. He got up, came around the breakfast bar and pulled her into his arms.

  ‘When did I stop looking at you when you spoke?’

  She bent back from his hold. ‘You don’t have to look so guilty. We’ve both been busy. I’ve had Mum, and the planning of the move, and you’ve had your cases. We just forgot about each other.’ She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes.

  Morgan stared across the kitchen remembering the excitement he had felt when he last held a woman this close. But that had been Maisie.

  Chapter 88

  Friday 6th March

  Spence joined Morgan and Patel in the briefing room. ‘I spoke to the CPS while we were waiting for Brian Gault to arrive. We’re good to charge Danny Easton for the Maguire murders,’ he said.

  ‘We weren’t on Wednesday,’ said Morgan.

  ‘We didn’t have the wording of the father’s suicide note and the connection to the signs left with the bodies on Wednesday.’

  Morgan turned to Patel. ‘What about Wyatt?’

  She waved her phone at him. ‘Waiting to hear back.’

  Patel’s phone rang and she left the room. She returned moments later and tossed the phone on to a desk. ‘That’s disappointing.’

  Morgan and Spence waited.

  ‘Charge and remand for manslaughter of Kenneth Wyatt. They’ll review if we uncover anything else which shows he planned to murder him. Oh, and Brian Gault’s arrived. He’s with Easton.

  ‘Okay,’ Morgan eased off the edge of the desk where he had been perched. ‘Let’s go and make Mr Gault’s day by charging his client with two counts of murder and one of manslaughter. With any luck, he’ll persuade him to cough to Wesley Crook too. The cardboard signs on the bodies link them.’

  ‘Leaving Carl Raynor and Abi Slater,’ said Patel.

  ‘I don’t think Easton is involved with Carl Raynor,’ said Morgan. ‘It doesn’t fit. And I’m still not sure about Abi Slater.’

  ‘I’ve no reason to be in this interview,’ said Patel. ‘I’ve got my charge. Why don’t you and Spence speak to him today?’

  ‘Okay.’ Morgan unpinned the premortem photos of Wesley Crook and Abi Slater from their boards and followed Spence out.

  Danny Easton looked as if he hadn’t slept. His eyes were rimmed with red and bloodshot.

  Once the recording software was running, Brian Gault told them that he had a prepared statement in which Danny had admitted to being with Kenneth Wyatt when he fell and hit his head, but denied hanging his body in the garage. He passed the A4 sheet of paper across to Morgan who read it and put it aside.

  ‘Noted, Mr Gault, thank you, but we�
�re pretty confident we can make that charge stick,’ said Morgan. ‘We’ll be coming back with more questions for your client about Kenneth Wyatt and also Angus and Michael Maguire, but today, I’m more interested in this man.’ He opened the folder and pushed the photograph of Wesley Crook across until it lay in front of Easton. ‘We believe you killed him because he didn’t stop burgling after you told him to, Danny? What would you like to say about it?’

  ‘Never seen him before,’ Easton barely glanced at the photograph.

  ‘Oh, I think you have,’ said Morgan. ‘I think you saw him at the Magistrates’ Court when he was up for burglary, and you made a note of his address. You sent him a letter telling him to stop burgling or, as you so eloquently put it, to stop his offending behaviour, or he would be sorry. When he was up again for burglary, you killed him.’

  Morgan watched Easton for any twitch or tick, but there was nothing.

  ‘You dumped him outside the bungalow he had burgled to ram the message home, didn’t you? Did you not think that couple had suffered enough?’

  The silence was lengthy, broken only by voices in the corridor and the clang of a security gate.

  ‘How many more letters have you sent?’ asked Spence.

  That small, sly smile they had seen before crossed Easton’s face. ‘I’m doing your job for you,’ he said.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Spence.

  ‘You don’t have to speak to them,’ said Gault. ‘We talked about this.’

  Easton looked at both detectives. ‘There are no consequences when you deal with burglars. I give them consequences.’

  ‘Where did you kill him, Danny?’ Morgan pointed to the photograph of Crook again.

  Easton crossed his arms and leant back in the chair, his eyes on fire; triumphant. ‘He won’t burgle anyone else, will he?’ he shouted.

  Brian Gault leant towards him, but Easton pushed him away.

  ‘How many more letters have you sent?’ Spence repeated.

  ‘Dorothy Cooper thinks you’re a complete wanker,’ Easton pointed first at Morgan, then at Spence, ‘and you. You all are. Every fucking police officer, because you’re all the same. Stick to the rules, don’t rock the boat and when the little people are robbed, add it to the statistics, hand out a crime number and have another cup of tea. We just couldn’t get your attention. Your complete lack of interest killed my father and destroyed my mother. Have we got your attention now?’ He hammered his fist on the desk to accentuate each word of his last sentence.

  Morgan tapped on Wesley Crook’s photograph. ‘Where did you kill him and how did you transport him to the bungalow?’

  ‘Have we got your attention?’ Easton was still shouting and Morgan saw Brian Gault cringe.

  ‘You have my undivided attention, Danny,’ said Morgan. ‘Now, this guy. Tell me what happened.’

  Easton snorted. ‘He was one of the ones I sent a letter to and when I was at the court, there he was again. Bold as brass. Still thieving. And he had the nerve to plead not guilty!’ Easton’s flushed face showed his outrage.

  ‘Go on,’ said Morgan.

  ‘We started chatting when he came up from the cells to wait for his solicitor. He said he was looking for work and I arranged to meet him outside one of the park homes up on the estate. One of the Silver Sands residents... her daughter owns it and it needed some work. Her mum recommended me.

  ‘I was giving him a chance to go straight, but when he turned up, all he did was boast about how much he was gonna make when he sold off all the jewellery he’d knicked. I was angry. My mum never had much jewellery and when we were burgled, she lost everything, even her engagement ring. She never got any of it back. Me ‘n him,’ he tapped Crook’s photo, ‘We were measuring wood for new steps outside the park home. When he turned his back I threw an extension lead round his neck and pulled tight. He was strong, but I caught ‘im off guard. It took ages before I was sure he was dead. It’s quicker in films, isn’t it? Anyway, good riddance.’

  ‘How did you get him to the bungalow? Morgan persisted.

  ‘I signed out the Silver Sands van overnight. Said I had to buy some bits from the cash and carry. Nobody cared.’

  Morgan asked Spence to make a note to raise another search warrant for the van and silently cursed the magistrate who had refused their initial request.

  ‘How many more letters?’ Spence persisted.

  ‘Ten... twelve... Not sure. Everyone else stopped, especially after the papers started calling it the “Sorry Slayer murders.” I’m doing your job for you.’

  ‘Where did you get the contact details? You couldn’t be at court every day.’

  Easton took a long time to answer that question. His face was troubled before it changed back to that look of triumph again.

  ‘My girlfriend helped me.’

  Morgan drummed his short nails on the folder before opening it and removing a photograph.

  ‘Is this her?’

  Danny Easton’s lips pouted and he reached out to caress Abi’s smiling face with the back of his fingers. ‘I loved her,’ he said. ‘I would have done anything for her.’ Brian Gault frowned and his posture stiffened. He looked across at Easton, his pen paused.

  ‘So why did you kill her?’ Morgan and Spence watched as Easton closed his eyes and shook his head.

  ‘For the recording, Mr Easton is shaking his head,’ said Spence.

  Morgan persevered. ‘Why did you kill her, Danny?’

  ‘I wanted to marry her. I took out a loan and bought a ring and everything.’ Tears formed in his eyes and started to run down his cheeks. He looked from Morgan to Spence and back again before wiping his tears with his sleeve. The room was silent. Gault’s pen was waiting.

  ‘I used to see her at court. She started to smile at me, and then say hello when she walked past. I saw her at a couple of the clubs. She danced like a demon. We danced together a lot. Then we got closer...’ a smug smirk crossed his face. ‘A lot closer, if you know what I mean. She could fuck like a demon too. I was gonna keep her forever.

  Chapter 89

  Friday 6th March

  Danny Easton tilted his head back and closed his eyes before he spoke again. ‘We arranged to meet at the Golden Dragon in town. We had a Chinese. She rang her mate up at the estate to get a caravan for a couple of hours but some bloke answered who she didn’t know. I had keys to the one I’d been working on, so I drove her up there in my mum’s car. She was carrying this big bag and insisted she took it in with us. I thought it was her dry cleaning. There was something about her that night. She was more beautiful than ever. Her eyes were bright, she was flushed and she was sort of pulsating with excitement. I wanted her so much, it hurt. I was gonna be with her forever, and I was gonna tell her.’ He gulped back a sob and Brian Gault reached out and touched his arm.

  ‘Are you able to go on, Danny?’ asked Morgan. ‘I’d prefer not to take a break at this stage.’

  Easton continued without acknowledging his words. ‘Then, she fiddles in her handbag and I thought it was for johnnies... you know, condoms. When she holds her hand out to show me, it’s got this fucking great big diamond on it. Told me she’s been engaged for ages but it was getting near to her wedding now so it would be the last time we’d be together. She opens the bag and it’s got her fucking wedding dress in it! I couldn’t believe it. She wanted to wear it while we had sex. I told her I didn’t want to and she got sulky because she wasn’t getting her own way. She took the ring off and threw it on the bed. Then she starts to taunt me. Told me that sex with her fiancé was better than me. I got angry then, and I put my hands round her neck. I’d done it before and she’d liked it. She started laughing again and put her hands down my trousers. I remember her saying she could tell I wanted it, and I didn’t, so I gripped her neck tighter and tighter until she stopped laughing.’ His head sunk down. ‘I wanted to be with her forever.’

  ‘How did she end up in the woods?’ asked Morgan.

  ‘Well, I couldn’t leave
her where she was, could I?’ He looked at Gault who was staring down at his legal pad. He had stopped writing.

  Easton wiped tears again and sniffed. ‘I spent all night with her; just holding her close. It was really cold. I had to get mum’s car back to her before she needed it for work so, when it got light, I moved her. I couldn’t get her in the boot cos she was a bit stiff and I didn’t want to break her, so I put her in the back; across the seats, like. I put the frock back in the bag and threw it in after her. I took her to the little car park and carried her into the woods. She liked it in there. We’d been there together. I laid her down and put her handbag and the frock beside her.’

  Nobody spoke and Easton looked at each of the officers in turn.

  ‘I had to get mum’s car back and get to work,’ he insisted.

  ‘But that’s not how we found her,’ said Spence.

  Easton was crying freely now, and shaking his head. Gault reached into his pocket and handed him a neatly folded cotton handkerchief. Easton looked at it as if he had never seen one before.

  ‘When I got to work, I remembered she’d plugged her phone and computer in at the park home. And they were still there.’

  ‘And so?’ said Morgan, keen to get all the details and to get out of this airless room.

  ‘I went back on my bike in my lunch break.’

  ‘There’s no sign of you either in your mum’s car, or on your bike. We’ve checked all the vehicles entering and leaving from the day Abi went missing,’ said Morgan. ‘How do you account for that?’

  Easton snorted. ‘CCTV only reaches the entrance to the reception car park. The roads around the estate aren’t covered. As long as you don’t go near the reception building, no-one knows you’re there.’ Morgan struggled to mask his exasperation.