No Middle Ground

by Jack Slater

  ‘He didn’t have a dog,’ Tommy sneered. ‘A boner, maybe…’

  A gasp sounded from several points in the court, including the jury box. Steady, son, Pete thought.

  ‘There’s no need for crudity, Master Gayle,’ the judge said gravely.

  ‘Sorry, sir.’ Tommy looked briefly incredulous. ‘But this trial is about sex crimes isn’t it?’

  ‘You know what I meant, and you will contain yourself.’

  ‘Sir.’

  Again, Pete’s mind took him back to DCI Silverstone’s office and his own responses to the station chief.

  ‘My point is that you didn’t know he had no dog when you claim to have challenged him, Thomas. Did you?’

  ‘I didn’t need to hear the shutter clicking to know what he was doing. I could see his hands.’

  ‘His hands. And what were they doing?’

  ‘Operating the camera. It wasn’t a modern digital. It was manual. He had to focus it, press the button and wind it on.’

  ‘Very well. So, you challenged him about what he was photographing. What form did that challenge take?’

  ‘I opened the door behind him, called him a sicko and told him I’d report him.’

  As a smile tweaked the corners of Pete’s mouth, he glanced at the jury and saw the same response from some of them.

  ‘And that was it, was it?’ the defence barrister asked. ‘You didn’t expand on that?’

  Pete frowned as a nervous flutter disturbed his stomach. Where’s he going now?

  ‘Next thing I knew, he’d grabbed hold of me and pulled me into the cab,’ Tommy told him.

  ‘And then?’

  The defence barrister was being persistent with this. What was he up to, Pete wondered.

  ‘He twisted my arm round in a straight lock like they do on the wrestling, told me to shut the door and started the engine.’

  ‘But you hadn’t said anything else to him in the meantime?’

  Tommy frowned. ‘Told him to get off me, let me go.’

  ‘You didn’t, for example, add that you’d report him unless he did something for you?’

  Pete froze.

  ‘Like what?’ Tommy asked.

  ‘Objection, My Lord,’ the prosecutor protested, too late. ‘The defence is going around in circles. This argument has already been answered.’

  ‘Overruled. But be careful, Mr Abercrombie,’ warned the judge.

  ‘My Lord,’ he acknowledged before turning back to Tommy. ‘That’s what I’m asking you, Thomas. What, if anything, did you demand of my client in order to prevent you from going to the authorities with your discovery?’

  ‘I didn’t demand anything. How could I? I wasn’t in a position to, was I?’

  ‘So, you’re denying that you suggested teaming up? That you suggested that he put you up in exchange not only for your silence, but for your co-operation in a much more lurid method of gaining his pleasure than he’d been able to achieve thus far?’

  ‘I…?’ Tommy shook his head in confusion. ‘I suggested to him? Are you serious?’

  ‘We do not jest about such matters – or about anything else – in court, Thomas. I put it to you that my client was quite content with his remote voyeurism, however distasteful that may be, until you came along. That, in fact, it was not my client but you who was the instigator and main force behind these abductions. That he went along unwillingly with you, rather than vice versa, Master Gayle.’

  Tommy’s lips tightened. ‘Then where did Adrian Southam come from?’

  ‘Answer the question, please, Thomas,’ the defence barrister insisted.

  ‘I don’t know how you could even ask it,’ Tommy declared. ‘I was thirteen years old. He was a grown man. A voyeur into young kids. Seriously, how likely was I to have even dreamed up a plan like that? And even if I had, like I said, where did Adrian Southam come from? How could I have known him?’

  ‘I ask the questions here, Thomas. You answer them. And you’re obfuscating. Please answer the question I’ve put to you. A yes or no will suffice. To repeat: were you in fact the instigator of the situation that led ultimately to Rosie Whitlock’s abduction?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you intend her to be abducted?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And did you or did you not strangle Lauren Carter?’

  ‘I said before: he made me put my hands round her neck and then squeezed over them. So, no, I didn’t kill her.’

  ‘But you did have sexual intercourse with both girls as well as the other victims, correct?’

  ‘Objection. Already answered.’

  ‘Sustained,’ said the judge. ‘Move on, Mr Abercrombie, if you have any new questions to ask the witness.’

  ‘Just one, My Lord.’ He turned back to Tommy. ‘Thomas, you are the only witness who has mentioned this Adrian Southam person in this courtroom, and that only as an avoidance of your own culpability. Therefore, my question to you is, is he real or a creation of your own imagination?’

  Pete saw frustration and outrage twist Tommy’s features as the same emotions surged through every atom of his own body. He was on his feet before he knew what was happening. ‘He’s all too real,’ he shouted. ‘We’re chasing him down right now.’

  ‘Order,’ the judge shouted, slamming a hand on the bench in front of him. ‘Sit down this instant, Mr Gayle, or you will be removed from this court.’

  Pete felt himself being pulled down by his jacket as a fist slammed into the back of his thigh. Colin. He dropped back into his seat, still enraged by the defence barrister’s insinuation. For a moment, he struggled to get back up again, but Colin held him down firmly.

  ‘Stay still and stay quiet,’ he snapped, his voice low and determined.

  ‘How the fu… How can he get away with shit like that?’

  ‘It’s his job.’

  The prosecutor turned in his seat to stare at Pete, who mouthed, ‘Call me back,’ as he jabbed a thumb at his own chest then pointed to the witness stand.

  ‘That bloody well isn’t,’ Pete said to Colin. ‘It’s defamation, plain and simple.’

  ‘Outside this room, it would be, but not here and you know it.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  The fire alarm jangled before Tommy could respond to Abercrombie’s accusation, making Pete and several others jump. Gasps and cries of shock sounded around the packed court room, a blue light flashing from above the big double doors as they opened abruptly and the usher’s deep voice called, ‘Everyone please leave your seats in a calm and orderly manner and make your way down the stairs.’

  A glance over his shoulder showed Pete several people moving along the hallway outside towards the stairs. The judge left his seat, heading for the side door at the corner of the room that led out to his chambers while the jury filed out through a door in the opposite corner.

  The big screen behind the witness stand had already gone black.

  Pete stood, joining the steady press of bodies towards the door. He was aware of Colin moving behind him. At the door, he stepped out of the flow, squeezing against the door jamb.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he asked the usher, having to speak up over the hum of raised voices.

  ‘All I know, sir, is it’s not a drill.’ He raised a hand. ‘If you’d make your way toward the stairs…’

  ‘Where’s my son? He was testifying on-camera when the alarm sounded.’

  ‘He’ll be on his way out, sir.’

  ‘Where was he, then? I’d like to make sure.’

  ‘He’d have been in camera room one, third door along on the right.’ He pointed in the opposite direction to the stairs.

  ‘Thank you.’ Pete headed that way. There were only a handful of people coming towards him now. The door the usher had described stood open. Pete checked inside anyway. It was a small room, not much more than a cupboard. Magnolia walls surrounded a mock-up of the witness stand, a video camera on a tripod, a couple of lights on stands and a chair for the camera operator. A screen
behind the camera was still on, showing just the front portion of an empty court room: the position where the questioning barrister would stand.

  With a sigh of relief, Pete turned away, heading back towards the stairs. He’d see Tommy outside with his chaperone. He joined the throng moving steadily down the wide stairs. Behind him, the big doors of the main court room closed and the usher’s leather-soled shoes tap-tapped after him. Ahead, through the enormous window that constituted the central section of the front of the white rendered art-deco style building, he could see the car park filling with people. They seemed to be milling around randomly like froth below a weir on the river. How was he going to find Tommy amongst that lot?

  Of course, legally, he shouldn’t be finding Tommy. The boy was still under oath, having yet to complete his testimony, and Pete was another witness in the same case. They should have no contact. But that didn’t take into account that they were father and son. He needed to know the boy was safe, at least, if only by seeing him from a distance. But he couldn’t make him out from here. Perhaps he was at the rear of the building, where the legal teams, judge, jury and ancillary staff would congregate away from the public throng.

  ‘Sir.’ The usher put a hand to his shoulder as he stood at the railing, searching the crowd outside from the half-landing.

  Pete flinched and released a breath before turning reluctantly away from the big windows to go with the black suited and white gloved man.

  In the foyer, the revolving door had been stopped and folded open, the auxiliary doors to either side of it also standing open to allow the noisy crowd to exit as quickly as possible. The limited space outside seemed packed already. Pete couldn’t see Colin among the milling crowd so, once outside, he pushed through towards the main road, hopped up onto the low wall of a raised bed of shrubs and flowers and turned to look back at the building. Smoke billowed high and black from the far corner, the alarms still jangling inside as he heard sirens closing fast from his right.

  Where was Colin? Then he saw him coming around the far corner of the big white building, his stride brisk and purposeful, eyes roaming the crowd until they alighted on Pete, head and shoulders above the crowd as he stood on the wall. As Colin changed direction towards him, Pete jumped down and moved through the muttering crowd to meet him.

  ‘Have you seen Tommy?’ he asked as they came together.

  ‘No. The judge isn’t round there, either.’

  A cold feeling of dread gripped Pete’s stomach, climbing quickly up his neck to surround his head with a chill as if it was suddenly December again instead of late May.

  Something was wrong. He knew it.

  He heard the sirens stop at the far side of the court house. The fire brigade had arrived.

  ‘You’re…’ He stopped. Colin wasn’t the type to say anything he wasn’t sure of.

  The older man nodded sombrely. ‘I’m sure. They’re not there, either of them. The jury, stenographer, solicitors and barristers… Burton’s in cuffs with two guards. But no judge and no Tommy.’

  Pete’s eyes closed briefly. ‘Something’s up. It has to be.’

  Colin nodded again. ‘But we can’t go in and check until the fire boys say so.’

  ‘Where is the fire?’

  ‘Records room in the far corner, second floor.’

  There would be more paper in there than anywhere else in the building apart from the legal library below it. This could be an accident, but… He shook his head and met Colin’s gaze.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking, but we don’t know anything at this stage.’

  ‘It’s bloody suspicious, though.’ Pete tried to think of any street cameras in the area but wasn’t aware of any. Some of the old buildings up Southernhay Gardens might have private ones. Most were business now, rather than the grand homes they’d been built as. The other direction led towards the shopping areas around the High Street. There would be cameras there but a fast getaway would require a vehicle. He took out his phone and dialled.

  ‘Police. CCTV room.’

  ‘Graham, what have you got in the way of cameras around the court building?’

  ‘Not a lot.’

  ‘Anything?’

  ‘The nearest is on the main road in front of it. Hang on.’

  ‘That’s no good,’ Pete said, but there was no response. Then Graham was back.

  ‘What’s going on down there?’

  ‘A fire in the records room, apparently.’

  ‘Jesus. No, the main road’s the closest.’

  ‘I need something from behind it.’

  ‘We’ve got nothing, mate. Even the court house itself hasn’t, as far as I know.’

  ‘What, nothing covering the back entrance?’ This was where suspects would be brought in from the prison, across the city.

  ‘They might have, but…’

  ‘They bloody well should have. I’ll check. Thanks, mate.’ Pete ended the call. ‘We’ll need to find a staff member here,’ he told Colin. ‘See if they’ve got their own CCTV.’

  His phone rang in his hand. He checked the screen. Unknown number. He didn’t have time for this now. He pressed the green button, intending to tell whoever it was to call back.

  He didn’t get the chance. As he put it to his ear, a voice said, ‘If you want to see your son alive again, you’ll stop that trial.’

  West-country accent but harsher, more rural than his own local one. Further east or north. Wiltshire. His fears were realised.

  ‘Southam, I’m…’

  Click. A dead line.

  ‘…coming for you,’ he muttered.

  Colin was watching him carefully. ‘Southam, as in Adrian Southam?’

  Pete’s lip curled, his jaw clamped shut. He nodded slowly. ‘He’s got Tommy.’

  ‘How? Why?’

  ‘To try to stop this trial.’

  ‘How does he expect that to work?’ Colin demanded, but Pete was already lifting his phone to his ear again when it rang again.

  He checked the screen. ‘Jane.’

  ‘Boss. Are you OK? We just heard there’s a fire down there.’

  ‘We’re fine, Jane. But I need you and Dick down here ASAP, if not before, plus half a dozen uniforms to canvas Southernhay Gardens for witnesses and CCTV.’

  ‘What, you think it was deliberate?’

  ‘I know it was. Southam just called me.’

  ‘How the hell did he get your number?’

  ‘I don’t know. Did anyone there give it him?’

  ‘None of us, that’s for sure. I can ask around.’

  ‘Get Dave to do that. And get Ben to see if he can trace the last call to this phone. You get down here.’

  ‘Will do. But that’s not why I called. A body’s been found in the river, up by Cross Weir. Female. Blonde. Thirties. Stabbed in the chest. We haven’t got a firm ID yet, but I’m thinking…’

  ‘Cathleen Webber,’ he finished for her.

  ‘Yes. And she was near-naked, so they’d at least sexually abused her, probably raped her before they killed her.’

  The intensity of Pete’s rage ratcheted up even further at the thought. These two psychos had to be stopped before they claimed any more innocent victims.

  *

  Dick Feeney’s silver Mondeo pulled into the already crowded area in front of the court house with blue lights flashing in the grille. He stopped the car and he and Jane stepped out.

  Jane glanced from one to the other. ‘Boss. Guv…’

  ‘What happened?’ Dick asked.

  Pete started to tell them what he knew, sketchy as it was.

  ‘I’ll go and check on the fire crew,’ said Colin.

  ‘We need to keep this place closed until we’ve been inside and checked for evidence,’ Pete said quickly. ‘Especially if the judge is still AWOL.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll deal with that, too.’

  ‘The judge?’ Jane demanded. ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘That’s what we need to find out,’ Pete told her. �
��Seems like he didn’t come out of there when he should have.’

  ‘You don’t think he’s involved, do you?’ Dick asked. ‘Part of the ring?’

  Pete hadn’t thought of that until Dick suggested it. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘We’ll have to see what we find when we get in there.’

  ‘So, how did they get Tommy? He’d have been chaperoned, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘He was. But there was no sign of anyone in the camera room, so we thought they’d taken him out the back until Colin went round there and couldn’t find him or the judge. Then I got the call from Southam.’

  ‘Saying they’ve got Tommy,’ Jane added.

  ‘Did he give you any proof of that?’ Dick asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then we don’t know it for sure.’

  ‘No, but we’ve got act like it’s true.’

  Dick nodded. ‘I’m just saying there’s a chance, that’s all. I mean, it’d take some balls to come into a court house and abduct a judge and a witness in the middle of a trial, wouldn’t it? And what for?’

  ‘To stop the trial,’ Pete told him.

  ‘Yes, but evidence is already given and on record so, again, why? What do they hope to gain?’

  ‘Where was the fire?’ Jane asked.

  ‘The records room.’

  ‘Well, there you go, then,’ she said to Dick.

  ‘Yeah, but… What about the evidence? The trial can always be started again and it’s not like they took the defendant, is it?’

  ‘He was guarded,’ Pete pointed out.

  ‘Exactly. So the trial can be restarted, even if it needs a new judge.’

  ‘And, even if this one wasn’t part of their ring, the new one might be,’ Jane added.

  ‘It’s no good speculating,’ Pete said as Colin came back into view around the corner of the court house and waved them over. ‘Come on.’ He started across the crowded space, pushing through the throng with Jane and Dick following in his wake.

  By the time they reached the still-closed doors of the court house, Colin had already spoken to the usher and he led the way inside, reporting what he’d discovered at the back of the building as they mounted the stairs.