by L M Krier
‘Right, can you get on to anyone and everyone – children’s services, social services, anyone you can think of – and check thoroughly that she’s never been classed as special needs. It’s possible she was diagnosed after she left school, although I doubt it, if it was never picked up before. But I don’t want to go any further with her until we know that for sure. We need to cover our backs.’
‘Martha, do you think there’s any possibility she’s putting it on for effect? That she’s really as sharp as they come and just stringing us all along?’ Rob asked.
‘I honestly don’t think so. For one thing, she took hold of my phone without any prompting. If she was really bright and cunning, she’d have known she’d give us her fingerprints on a plate by doing that.’
‘I’ll try again to get hold of the boss. I’m betting he’ll want to go straight to the search site, so we’ll crack on here for now. We’ve got some indication now that the house is the last known sighting of Byrne before his death, so I think he’ll probably want to look at expanding the reference terms of the search, which might need an additional warrant.’
‘Tamara Lee, you’re now going to be interviewed under caution in connection with our ongoing enquiries. I’ve issued you the caution. Do you understand it?’ Rob asked her.
‘No comment.’
‘Do you want to have a legal representative present while you’re interviewed?’
She was sitting looking belligerent. They’d removed the handcuffs and she now sat with her arms folded on the table, leaning forward.
‘As I don’t intend to say anything at all other than no comment, it would be a waste of time.’
‘Initially, we wanted to interview you about items of tree surgery equipment, which you reported as having been stolen from your vehicle.’
‘No comment.’
‘In particular, about a chainsaw,’ Rob pressed on before she could open her mouth to decline to comment again. ‘I have to tell you that the chainsaw has now been recovered.’
She didn’t speak. Tried to keep her expression neutral. She couldn’t control the slight flicker of her eyes at the news.
‘It was found at a council tip, not very far from where you live.’
‘And of course no one else lives anywhere near a council tip,’ she couldn’t stop herself from saying in a sarcastic tone.
‘We wanted to talk to you in the first instance about a possible fraud in relation to that reported theft.’
‘Theft. It happened. The stuff was nicked off my truck. Jimmy can confirm that.’
Virgil spoke up, his voice a deep rumble, in keeping with his bad cop image.
‘Unfortunately for you, he didn’t. He could only say that you told him the kit was on the truck when you arrived on site and you said it wasn’t there when you got back from looking at the day’s work. It’s not a reliable enough corroboration of your statement.’
‘The news doesn’t get any better, either, I’m afraid,’ Rob told her. ‘The chainsaw has now been sent away for forensic testing in connection with a murder enquiry we’re conducting. We spoke to you before about fibres from the Betula nigra tree. You’ve admitted having previously worked on such trees, and we’ve found at least one location, with dates, where you’ve done so. We’ve asked the lab to test specifically for those fibres, as well as for any other significant traces which might show up on that chainsaw.’
‘So? I told you I’ve worked on Betula nigra. You can’t clean every bit of everything off a chainsaw. But it was nicked months ago. Anyone could have done anything with it since I handled it last.’
She’d clearly decided to abandon her earlier resolve to say nothing.
‘You’ve tried, have you? To clean all traces of something off your chainsaw?’
‘You always clean your tools down at the end of the day. Whatever job you’re doing,’ she told him scornfully.
‘Do you know someone called Bartholomew Byrne? Also known as Bernie?’
‘No comment.’
The shutters were back down on her face. They were clearly in for a long session.
Ted asked to see Doug as soon as he arrived on site at Tam Lee’s property, before he’d even donned his coveralls. Mike Hallam was already there, with Jezza, Charlie and Graham. There were Uniform officers helping. It was going to be all hands on deck to get the search completed in the shortest possible time.
Ted was heavily reliant on what Forensics could get from the scene to bring him any sort of a result from the case. Time and cost constraints meant he couldn’t simply ask the investigators to search for anything which might prove useful. It needed to be carefully targeted if they were going to get anywhere.
Doug looked at Ted keenly as he came to the tape which closed off the suspected crime scene. He stayed on his own side of it.
‘Have you been in the wars, boss? Looks like a tidy bruise you’ve got coming there.’
Ted shrugged it off. ‘A prison visit that got a bit lively. It’s nothing. But I have an update. We’ve now got a witness who puts Mr Byrne here, at this property, a few months ago. Possibly four months. And at the moment, that’s the last sighting we have of him. So for now, finding any and all traces of his presence here supersedes the possible insurance fraud.
‘You’ve seen that big garage place round the back. I spotted it when I visited and I’d favour that for a likely murder scene. I’d explain the lack of immediately visible traces on the concrete floor by the big polythene sheet the chainsaw was found in, which has already gone off for testing. So could you start in there, please?
‘And you’ve seen the layout now, and the animals. Are the RSPCA here to help?’
‘They are, and fortunately it’s Rob O’Connell’s Sally who’s in charge. So at least she knows you’re not completely insane, although your idea would tend to suggest you might be.’
‘But is it theoretically possible?’
‘Anything’s possible, boss. I have to say this will be a first for me, if you’re right. It will certainly be a novel experience, that’s for sure.’
Chapter Thirty-two
Ted went to find Jo as soon as he got back to the station. Jo looked up from his desk, saw the bruise forming on the side of the boss’s face, and opened his mouth to speak. Ted cut him short.
‘I don’t want to talk about it. Prison visit didn’t go quite according to plan, that’s all. Where are we up to here?’
‘Maurice is babysitting Cyane Lee, who has now admitted she is Lucy Robson. We’re trying to check out her special needs status as none of us are happy that she actually knows what’s going on. She’s taken a real shine to our bonny lad, Maurice, so we’ve made sure he has a female chaperone with him at all times. For his sake, more than hers.
‘Rob and Virgil are still questioning Tam Lee, who’s not giving much away. Any signs of anything from the search that’s going to give us grounds to charge her with something, even if we have to bail her?’
‘Early days yet. Doug wants to keep the teams working as late as they can. He knows we’re desperate for something to build a case on. We don’t want to let either Tam or Lucy go back to the house until the search is finished, so we’ll need to have a plan of where to put them for the night if that becomes necessary.’
‘If we can, I’d favour keeping them separate. We might get more out of them that way. Tam loses it completely whenever Rob mentions anything about us talking to Lucy by herself. She does seem to be the controlling one in the relationship.’
‘I’ll go down in a minute and have a look how it’s going. You and I should get together again later on to review any new developments, so we can make some decisions on what action to take.
‘And where are we up to with the chaplain? Any news on him? Because Martin was able to give me a very strong probable blackmail angle for him.’
‘Was it Martin who …?’ Jo risked asking. But the boss could make a clam seem talkative when it suited him.
‘Not up for discussion, Jo. Mart
in told me that when he’d seen Warren, who’d fixed up for him to have a one-to-one with the chaplain, all Warren was interested in hearing about was whether or not the chaplain had touched him. And if he had, where, and how had it made Martin feel.
‘Martin’s my age, so not a young man like Duncan Dooley. But he is vulnerable. He has some issues. Any hint of the chaplain behaving at all inappropriately towards him could make big waves.
So what’s the chaplain been up to, if anything? Any change in his usual behaviour?’
‘All quiet on the Western Front so far. Going to and from his prison and parish business, seemingly as normal. And of course no more arsons since the fatal one – if that’s not tempting fate.’
‘I think we should perhaps haul him in soonish. Although it will depend if things suddenly kick off on the Byrne case, as a result of the search. We need to see what he says to the allegations Martin made. Perhaps that, and the news of who the arson victim was, will loosen his tongue a bit, if he is involved. I’d prefer to pick him up from his home rather than at the prison, so perhaps later this afternoon, when he gets back from work, if we’re not tied up on anything else. I might go myself for that, depending on how things at the search site are going. Meantime I’ll go and listen to what Tam Lee has to say for herself.’
Not a lot, seemed to be the answer to that, when Ted went downstairs to watch the interview over the monitors.
Rob O’Connell was doing a good job with her. Ted couldn’t fault him on his procedure or his tenacity. For the moment it wasn’t getting him anywhere. Most of his questions were met with a stony-faced ‘no comment’. The only time she spoke more was whenever either Rob or Virgil made reference to her partner. Then she went on a rant.
‘You shouldn’t be fucking talking to Cy on her own. She doesn’t operate like a normal adult. She’s emotionally retarded. She won’t understand what you’re asking her about and she’ll finish up saying anything she thinks you want to hear.’
Rob and Virgil had worked out a rough outline to the interview between them before they had begun. They weren’t expecting to get much from her, if anything. Virgil took over.
‘Tell me about Bartholomew Byrne. Also known as Bernie. When did you last see him?’
‘Who? Never heard of him.’
‘Cy tells us the two of you ran into him, about four months ago, and took him back to your place for tea.’
‘I told you, Cy will say anything she thinks you want to hear. Her head’s full of fairy stories. And she’s obsessed with bloody tea parties.’
Rob came back at this point. ‘She says that you and her are married. Jimmy Crick confirmed that. Are you living in a full relationship with Cy?’
Tam leaned back in her chair, folding her arms and looking at him with distaste.
‘Have I asked you who you’re shagging? I’m a lesbian, not a pervert. I told you, Cy is on a child’s emotional level. I took her in because she has no one. I look after her. That’s it.’
‘So you maintain the man known as Bernie has never been to your house?’
‘No comment. Can I go now? I have work to do.’
‘And you still claim that your chainsaw, loppers and shredder were stolen off the back of your truck some months ago?’
‘No comment. Can I at least go for a piss and have a cup of tea? I’m spitting feathers here.’
‘Chaplain wants you, Warren. Urgent Listener business, he said. In the chapel.’
Warren stopped his mopping and humming and made to go with the prison officer.
‘Bring your kit with you, Warren. How long have you been here? You should know by now you can’t leave anything lying around. It’ll only end up being used as a weapon.’
‘Yes, Mr Young. Sorry, Mr Young.’
Warren bent meekly to pick up his mop and pail. In his mind, Young died a grisly death, his body warped and contracted by flames licking ever higher. Consuming flesh and bone, while Young writhed in mortal agony on the ground at his feet.
‘Warren for you, chaplain,’ Young announced as he shepherded Warren into the chapel.
Archer was on his knees in front of the altar. He crossed himself as he finished praying and stood up, turning to face them both. He looked even worse than before. A haunted man. His face was grey, eyes red-rimmed, with dark bags under them. Clearly sleep deprived and suffering inner torment.
‘Thank you, Mr Young. William, I need to talk to you on an urgent Listeners’ matter.’
As soon as the door closed, the chaplain began to speak, not even suggesting they should both sit down as he usually did.
‘It’s gone far enough, William. I’ve wrestled with my conscience and I’ve decided the only thing I can do now is to give myself up to the police and tell them everything I know.
‘The man who died was not just an innocent soul who didn’t deserve an ending like that. He was also an ex-serviceman. I’ve seen it on the news. A man decorated for service to his country.’
‘Padre, calm down,’ Warren told him, trying to keep his voice as restrained as possible. ‘It was a dreadful accident. Nothing more. Totally unforeseeable. Look, let’s sit down together and talk about this sensibly. You’re clearly stressed and you’ve obviously not slept. Come and sit down.’
Archer was like a man sleepwalking, but he allowed himself to be led to a chair. He sank into it, his exhaustion clear to see.
‘I can’t go on, William. I really can’t.’
He put his head in his hands. The picture of abject misery.
‘The guilt is too much to bear.’
‘I understand, padre. I really do. I was also deeply affected by the news when I saw it on television. So tragic. But none of us could have known the man had picked that very night to sleep in a derelict building. A dreadful coincidence.’
‘You said we could trust Duncan. You said it would only ever be empty properties, with no risk at all to life.’
‘The best laid plans, padre. Sometimes even divine intervention doesn’t save the innocent. We just have to hold our nerve for a little while longer, until everything settles down again. There’s nothing to be gained and everything to be lost by you suddenly confessing, when you really have no need to. No one can prove anything against you. Not even by insinuation.
‘On the other hand, if I were to go to the governor with the things Duncan and Joey, and now Martin Wellman, have told me about their private meetings with you ... And of course, what they say backs up my own experiences with you.’
He left the sentence unfinished, the air heavy with menace. Archer looked at him with beseeching eyes.
‘But I haven’t done anything wrong, William. You know that.’
‘It’s hard to see how it’s possible to justify one man touching another on their thigh. High up. Close to their genitals. Not for any perfectly innocent motive.’
Archer dropped his head into his hands once more, his shoulders moving in what may have been a silent sob. Then he raised it again and looked at Warren.
‘I’m going to go home shortly and spend the evening in prayer, asking for God’s guidance. By tomorrow I shall have reached a decision with which my conscience can live.’
Ted was in Jo’s office with him and Jim Baker. The Big Boss had come over for a progress report and to give the final decision on what to do about both Tam Lee and Lucy Robson.
‘We’re going to have to move Lucy somewhere soon or she’s going to want to marry Maurice,’ Jo told him. ‘She doesn’t seem to have any appropriate filter on her reaction to older men.’
‘We’ve nothing to arrest either of them for at the moment, unless you’re hoping for a miracle from the search,’ Jim Baker cautioned.
It was late afternoon. Doug and the teams had been on site since early that morning, but it was still optimistic to expect anything of any real use to them so soon.
As if on cue, Ted’s mobile phone rang. The screen told him it was Doug calling.
‘Now then, boss. How’s young Adam? I forgot to ask y
ou this morning.’
He was clearly feeling in a much better frame of mind if he wanted to talk about cats. Hopefully it meant there was some good news to come. Ted was champing at the bit for an update but made polite small talk, briefly.
‘Good. Well, three things for you,’ Doug went on. ‘First, a search of the kitchen revealed a good supply of some fairly heavy-duty sleeping pills. Not prescription. Bought off the internet, I would say. But strong enough to knock out an elephant.
‘Secondly, I asked the lab to fast-track the earlier results and they have done. They’ve come back with a match for Byrne’s DNA on the plastic sheeting which was wrapped around the chainsaw, as well as on the chainsaw itself.
‘And thirdly, you were right. As usual. After much scratching about in the pig-pen, once the brutes had been removed by the RSPCA, we found what look like fragments of bone. Plus a tooth. A molar, to be precise.’
‘Human?’
‘Well, unless you know any vets in the habit of putting amalgam fillings in the teeth of the animals they treat, then yes. Definitely human.’
‘Tam, stop! Please stop!’ Lucy was twisting round in the front passenger seat of the truck, half wriggling out of the seatbelt. ‘It’s Bernie! Walking down the pavement there. It’s Bernie. I knew he’d come and find me one day. I knew it.’
Tam looked carefully in the rear-view mirror before braking and pulling the truck to the side of the road. Traffic was light, so as soon as she had a gap she started backing up the way they had come.
Lucy had wound her window down and was shouting out of it as they drew closer to a man walking along, his head down.
‘Bernie! Bernie! Wait on, Bernie. It’s me. Lucy.’
Whether it was her voice or the sound of the vehicle reversing, engine whining, which alerted him, the man slowed his pace and turned back. Lucy was by now leaning so far out of the window that Tam reached out a hand to grab hold of the back of her jacket to stop her falling out. As soon as the vehicle slowed enough, Lucy flung open the passenger door, shrugged off Tam’s restraining hand and raced up to the man, leaping at him and flinging her arms round him.
