“I’m sorry Amy, but he has to pay for his part in all of this to.” I apologised as I inserted the meat baster into her and squeezed the rubber bulb on the end once it was fully inside. What I had done was planted Adam’s seed within her. Earlier that day I had entered his chalet and retrieved a couple of items. I had originally gone in there for a few hairs to plant at the scene, but when I was in his chalet I hit the jackpot. On the cabinet next to the bed was a used condom neatly tied at the end. In my wildest dreams I had never expected to find evidence that would be irrefutable in framing Adam.
With his seed inside her it was time for dinner.
FORTY ONE
Tuesday 5th December 2017
Although she was still on leave Sian didn’t mind using a couple of days to travel to see the man she put away nearly twenty-five years ago. He was serving a life sentence at Parkhurst prison on the Isle of White. She had spoken to her boss the day before and he’d agreed to her going, he’d also contacted the prison and managed to secure a visiting order for the prisoner. The last time she’d spoken to him he was still a teenager, now he would be a middle-aged man in his forties.
She would leave tomorrow morning around five, the journey would take a little under five hours and then she would question the man she last saw as he was led away in cuffs from the courtroom. The memory was still vivid in her mind, on that day she had no doubt about his guilt. She had read the entire transcript from the trial, as a witness she was not allowed to attend in person. The one consistency in all the statements and questions he was asked was that he always professed his innocence. In interviews, on the stand, he never wavered from the fact he was innocent. He admitted that he’d had sexual relations with Amy when she was just fifteen and he was sixteen. It was just the once and it had been during her fifteenth birthday party. As much as he asserted his innocence the physical evidence placed him at the scene, his hair was found on her body, his semen inside her. He was staying in a chalet on the same park at the same time. His reason for being there never stood up to close examination but at the same time his story was so ridiculous that if you needed an alibi you would come up with much better. He admitted to having sex with a girl he’d met at a bar but she was never located, despite his defence pursuing an advertising campaign to find her, the results were un-rewarding.
It was ten o’clock so she decided to call it a night, she placed the folder with the documents she wanted to take on the kitchen counter along with her keys and purse. Her boss had told her to take one of the squad cars but she preferred her own, she now drove a newer version of her classic Porsche 911. She still had the classic she bought all those years ago but she kept it in a lock up and only drove it a few times a year. She settled in bed but sleep was a long time coming, questions kept swirling in her head like water leaves a sink. It was past twelve when exhaustion finally beat her.
Six o’clock the next morning and she was pissed at herself for having slept through her alarm. The traffic would be horrendous now. Her ferry wasn’t until twelve so hopefully if she hit the road in the next thirty minutes she may be alright. Jumping from her bed she started the shower while she brushed her teeth, two minutes under the water would have to do today. In five minutes she was drying herself and putting on her underwear. She made her way to the bedroom her hair dripping, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a black roll neck sweater. She left her hair wet as she wanted to hit the road as soon as possible.
By seven forty-five she was headed south on the M11, she didn’t want to think about the speed limits she’d broken getting there in that time. With the help of the turbo from her Porsche she may just make it to the ferry terminal on time. At eight fifteen she pulled into the South Mimms service station, one – she needed fuel (the way she’d been driving, the car just guzzled the stuff), two – she was starving, she needed refuelling herself. She figured she’d made up enough lost time to allow the fifteen minutes it would take to recharge both her and the car.
Petrol first, then Starbucks where she grabbed the largest Cappuccino they did, along with two sausage rolls and a maple and pecan danish. She walked out of there balancing the food bag on top of her ‘Sian’ emblazoned coffee cup, a heart replaced the dot on the ‘i’, while she fished around for her keys in her pocket. The sun had started to rise and the sky was turning brilliant shades of oranges and reds. With her coffee safely in the cup holder and a sausage roll gripped between her teeth she pulled away.
She didn’t hit traffic until the M4 turnoff for Heathrow, by which time she had devoured the second sausage roll, three-quarters of her drink and with her car stationery she decided to eat the danish. She knew once she had hit the M25 she would have to be more respectful of the speed limits. In her native Norfolk she’d have been able to wriggle out of any violations, but in the metropolitan area her credentials would be worthless. She disliked the Met police after various run ins over the years.
It was twenty minutes before the traffic started moving again. With all her food and drink now consumed she would have to wait until she was on the ferry for anything else. She couldn’t risk stopping again and miss the ferry. At eleven thirty she joined the end of the queue for her ferry. In less than ten minutes she was parked on the boat ready to sail across to the Isle of Wight.
With her Porsche below deck Sian headed up to get something to eat. She was ravenous and could murder a burger. To look at her it was hard to believe that she ate the amount of junk food she did. As slim as when she was in her twenties and apart from the obvious signs of ageing she could still turn heads. Up in the onboard restaurant she glanced briefly at the list of dishes on offer, it took less than ten seconds to decide on the double cheeseburger with fries and a large sprite to wash it down. She sat at a table by the window, the grime and salt obscured her view. She noticed how previous travellers had carved their names into the wooden top of the table, ‘Matt 4 Bev’ encapsulated in a heart was the largest. She ate her meal while she looked out of the window. The Solent was busy at this time of day, small craft skipped over the water, the wake from the ferry created launch ramps for two youngsters on jet-skis. The journey was quick which she was thankful for, it wasn’t long before she was back in her car and rolling off the ferry behind a long line of other vehicles. The air from the car deck still lingered in her nostrils, the sweetness of petrol mixed with the pungency of the diesel.
Sian had never been to Fishbourne and the likelihood was she wouldn’t be returning anytime soon. She followed the Saab in front of her for the first couple of miles as they made their way along Kite Hill towards Wootton Bridge. The heavens began to open and the deluge was making visibility poor. She turned the wipers up to maximum and slowed to a safe distance behind the Saab. Lucky for her the car turned off leaving a clear road, she chanced accelerating knowing that the road was slippery. Her faith in her car had never let her down before and she was an accomplished driver having passed numerous courses within the force. A couple of times the rear end fishtailed and she had to reign it in. The eleven mile journey took her a little over fifteen minutes.
Once parked she grabbed her file and with her jacket over her head made a dash for the entrance to the prison. An old naval hospital, it was an impressive building. Her credentials made for a swifter security check than a normal civilian visiting a prisoner.
Sian had told the warden to inform Adam that he should have his solicitor present. But when she entered the private interview room they had set up for her she discovered he had declined to have counsel there. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt. His muscles bulged and strained against every item of clothing, Sian realised that he probably had very little else to do than look after and hone his body.
The room was designed for solicitors to talk privately with their clients and as such afforded a great deal of privacy. The cameras were there for video only, no sound. However because DI Sian Price was a member of the police the same rules did not apply. There was no client confidentiality, so a prison gu
ard stood just inside the door. Sian hadn’t known what to expect from Adam, but it certainly wasn’t what she got. He started the conversation asking how her journey was and thanking her for making such a long trip. It threw her and she responded with an honest answer explaining about getting up late and having to rush to make sure she didn’t miss the ferry.
They made small talk for about ten minutes before Sian said they should really get down to the reason why she was there.
“Adam, I have my doubts about your guilt.” This was clearly not what he thought this visit was about. She could see the hope in his eyes, the notion that for the first time in nearly twenty-five years someone might actually be interested in his story and not the one that the evidence had led everyone to blindly believe.
“Why now? What has changed? Has new evidence become available?” He asked not daring to dream that his nightmare could possibly come to an end. However this played out he knew he could never have a normal life. He was a man in his forties, he’d been incarcerated for nearly two thirds of his life, what would he do if he was ever released? He’d often thought about publishing his book, he knew it wasn’t much but with the right person going over it maybe it could be made into something that people would want to read.
“It isn’t so much new evidence, more a new theory–my theory. I have gone over and over all the files from when you were convicted and the more I’ve gone over it the more things didn’t add up. That is why I came here today. I want to ask you a couple of things and I wanted to be here in person to be able to see your reactions. I could have emailed a copy of them to the warden and he could have emailed your replies, but I wouldn’t have been able to gauge your response.”
“So what is this theory you have?” He leant back in his chair as if to say ‘now let’s see if you have got it right this time.’
“I believe you were set up. The puzzling thing is I can’t figure out why. And that is where you come in, I am hoping you can fill in the missing piece for me–or pieces.”
“I’ll do my best. But what happens if I can ‘fill in the pieces’ what happens then? A new trial? A new investigation?”
“That would be down to the Crown Prosecution Service, if we can get the evidence on the person I believe to be responsible you could be exonerated.” She said before quickly adding “But to get there I have to be certain that my theory will hold up to scrutiny and that I can get sufficient evidence against the new suspect. You understand that this could take time and may never happen.”
“I understand, I’m grateful that someone is still prepared to fight for my innocence.”
“Do you know of anyone that would want to set you up for the murder of Amy Louise Cooper?”
“No. Like I explained at the time I hadn’t had any contact since we were at school together. I lost touch with her when I left, she was a year below me and once I’d done my exams I never saw or heard from her. I was a bastard back then, I used girls to get what I wanted, and being a hormonal teenage boy that amounted pretty much to one thing.”
“How many times did you sleep with her?”
“Once, on her fifteenth birthday at the party her parents had thrown for her.”
“Tell me about that night.”
“There really isn’t that much to tell. The only difference was that she actually approached me to go up to her room for sex. I’d had a couple of nips of whiskey from the flask I’d taken with me–I knew there was very little chance of alcohol being available. I went and planned on being there an hour before moving onto a club in Watford town centre. It surprised me when she tapped me on the shoulder and told me to follow her. She looked stunning and I didn’t need asking twice. On the way she grabbed me and I told her to at least wait until we were in the privacy of her room. I’d never seen her like that.”
“Did she explain why she was being the way she was?”
“Not until after. I didn’t force myself on her but afterwards she told me it was a mistake and burst into tears. I tried to comfort her but she pushed me away and told me to go. So I did. But it was consensual, she was enjoying it right up until we finished. I’d have known if she wasn’t and would have stopped. I may be a lot of things but I’m not a rapist.” Sian asked if he’d like a tea or coffee before continuing, she liked Adam and the more she spoke to him the more she believed his version of events.
FORTY TWO
The shallots were ready so I added the sliced mushroom, a couple of minutes in the pan and I tipped them out on to the plate, it was now ready for the main ingredient. I looked over at her on the breakfast bar and knew it was time, this was when her life would end – all the planning in the world hadn’t prepared me for what I had to do. I had never been squeamish but the next part had lost some of its appeal. I leaned over her, in my head it was at this point that I had planned on using the knife. I would run the tip of the blade from her throat, down between her breasts and end at her belly button with just enough pressure to draw blood.
Now I knew I wouldn’t be able to hurt her in that manner. Instead I ran my finger along the same path as I leaned closer to her ear, “I love you Amy Cooper, I am doing this all for you. I hope you understand,” I placed my lips to hers and probed her mouth with my tongue, I only wished she had been able to respond. She tasted divine, but I knew it would be the one and only time I would have the pleasure. I pulled away and replaced my mouth with my hand, I cupped it over her nose and mouth hard enough to exclude air entering her lungs. I was surprised at the length of time it took, in the movies it appeared to be over in a matter of seconds, but in reality it took nearly three minutes. Three minutes that felt like three hours.
It was the eyes that told me it had been long enough, one minute there was fight in them, the next it was gone. As simple as that, no last second sparkle as the soul left the body for a better place. One moment she was there the next she wasn’t. Believe it or not I felt sad at her passing, not remorse but sadness at what we could have had together. As I looked at her body I knew it was time for dinner, I wanted her heart while it was still warm. If I could have had it while it was still beating I would.
With the knife n my hand I placed it’s tip just above her breast bone, pushing down hard I broke through the skin. It took both my hands on the handle to draw it down her torso, the sound as it scraped over the bones was rather disconcerting. I stopped at the base of her rib cage. There was very little blood, some but not much. Using the knife at an angle I ran it parallel to each rib to free the flesh from the bone. I followed the contour of each all the way around, after the last I was able to peel the skin away to leave her chest exposed. The adrenaline was flowing freely through my body at the sight of her – the sight of what I had done. From my bag I retrieved a small pair of garden loppers, I’d thought about a simple pair of secateurs but worried that they wouldn’t be up to the job. With her skin pulled back and the loppers in my hand I realised her delicate bone would probably have succumbed to the lesser instrument. The loppers were definitely overkill if you’ll excuse the pun. I used them on each rib in turn, all seven that were attached to the breast bone, I then repeated it on the other ends to remove them completely. It amazed me how tightly compact the internal organs were, I rummaged around with my hand, underneath the lung I found what I was looking for. With her heart in one hand I located the tubes attaching it to the body and in turn severed each until I could hold it in my hand away from her chest.
I would have sworn I saw the heart beat when I placed it on the chopping board. The meat was tougher than I had thought it would be, but the knife made quick work of it. With the pan heated up I placed the slithers of meat in with a knob of butter, After a couple of minutes I turned them and a few minutes after that added the shallots and mushroom. Back up to temperature and in went the Madeira, while I waited for it to reduce I looked back to Amy, it was strange to think that her heart would soon be inside me. What was stranger was that when she left her house this morning she had no idea that she would end up being
my dinner.
In went the cream, it started to smell divine and in a few minutes it would be ready. I knew a meal wasn’t a meal without some kind of potato dish and vegetables, but this was more of a symbolic dinner. I turned the heat off and placed some of the meat in sauce on my plate, I hadn’t thought it was possible but I had begun to lose my appetite. I was adamant that I would see the evening through as planned so with my knife and fork in hand I took my first tentative step into cannibalism. I wasn’t impressed, the meat was chewy and in the end I had to swallow the pieces whole, the sauce was amazing but the texture and taste of the meat wasn’t for me. I ate just over half of her heart, before I admitted defeat and left the rest.
It was finally time to call it a night. I put my stuff in my bag, then I meticulously went over the whole chalet with a tub of alcohol wipes and wiped over everything I could remember touching and even things that I hadn’t. It was gone midnight when I finished. One final check around and I was ready to go, the knife I was leaving behind along with the pan – it had been thoroughly wiped clean. I placed my bag by the door, I went over to Amy – there was a strong smell in the chalet not just the alcohol wipes but something was emanating from the cavity I had opened in her. One last kiss, that was all I now wanted from her. I leaned in and where before there was warmth now there was only clammy. Her lips were pallid, but she was still beautiful, she always would be. I checked outside before I left to make sure no one was about, then I casually removed myself from the chalet and walked from the park. I kept two souvenirs from that night, her bra and panties, the other thing I took from the evening was the fact I could finally forgive her for her part in what had happened that night. For Adam his nightmare was yet to begin.
Amy Cooper Forever Page 22
