The Truth We Chase

by Carl Richards

  Slowly, like Jill’s analogy about the jigsaw, piece by piece it was all coming together and finally starting to make sense.

  The court staff come to lead me away as the room and the public gallery starts to empty. I glance back and Luciana is still there, I feel she is the catalyst bringing everything together.

  Chapter 25

  The Trial – The Verdict

  It is time.

  I take my seat and watch as the court fills, the Prosecution, the Defence, the court officials, the jury, the public gallery, then as we all stand the Judge makes his way in.

  I am grateful to hear that we can take our seats again, my stomach feels tight with pain like severe indigestion. My brain is hyper-sensitive, inside my head infinite clicks like electric shocks overwhelm my mind. I can’t relax or even focus, I’ve developed an involuntary tremor that has consumed my whole body, I feel cold but I’m sweating, finally to top it off comes dizziness, tunnel vision and nausea.

  I’ve zoned out, shut down and I’m overwhelmed, so much so that I miss the opening statement leading up to the verdict.

  ‘My Lord, the jury retired at 1.15 today, Tuesday the 17th of July 2001 to consider their verdict, at 3.25 the court was called back to session.’

  ‘Thank you, will the defendant please stand.’

  I’ve zoned out of the room and have missed the request, the guard behind me helps me to my feet. My legs are weak, I have a feeling which can only be described as a bad hangover but I manage to compose myself.

  ‘Will the Foreman please stand.

  Mr Foreman, please confine your answer to the following question to a simple Yes or No; has the jury reached a verdict on the indictment upon which you are all agreed?’

  There is a pause, the foreman takes a final look at his fellow jurors.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Thank you, how do you find the defendant, Guilty or Not Guilty?’

  The Foreman pauses, looks me directly in the eye before turning back to direct his answer to the Judge.

  ‘... Not Guilty...’

  There is an audible intake of breath and some gasps from the public gallery.

  ‘Thank you Mr Foreman. Joseph Joshua Ryebank you have been found Not Guilty of the murder of Jill Breathnach on Sunday the 23rd of April 2000, and, as there are no further warrants or charges against you, you are free to leave the court.’

  I want to say thank you, but somehow it doesn’t seem appropriate.

  The guard spins me round to face him.

  ‘I’ll still need to take you down and back to the remand centre to finalise the paperwork and for you to collect your belongings.’

  I am only capable of nodding. He leads me off.

  Somehow the release of all the tension, all the anxiety and all the stress have left me overwhelmed and unable to speak.

  I am taken down to the holding area to await the prison van to take me back to the remand centre. I sit in silence, I should feel elation, but I don’t. My thoughts are consumed with sadness, sadness that Jill was taken with such brutality with no justice served, Mick my real father taken with such brutality with no justice served and a sadness that the events of the last seventeen years have forever scarred me.

  The van arrives, of the five us that were transported to court this morning only two of us are going back and I guess I’m the only one that’ll be leaving when we get back, as the other lad has been brought from the holding cells.

  The half-hour journey back to the Remand Centre is uneventful and the other lad with me in the prison van is subdued, this is in stark contrast to the journey to court when he had his three mates with him and he was the big hard man.

  We’re led back into the reception area, he is immediately taken through the security doors at the far end of the room, I am told to take a seat. After an hour of administration, I am finally discharged.

  This is the first time I have truly been free since that fateful day. Having been institutionalised, contained first by hospital walls, then prison walls and for the first time in my life I feel panic like agoraphobia. I feel lost, worse than lost; I feel empty, my heart is thumping in my chest, my ordered self-controlled world is no longer there and neither are my friends or family. Some of them still think I’m guilty, those who don’t think I’m guilty still don’t want to be associated with me and some blame me for the break-up of Lisa and Rob. Whatever the reason, I’m not going to be welcome in my old town.

  As I leave the Remand Centre clutching my see-through plastic bag of personal possessions, I have to jump over the puddle of water outside the entrance door. This is just my luck, the sun has been shining all day whilst I was stuck indoors, now bands of rain sweep in from the west. I make my way across the car park to the empty bus stop on the main road. I have no intention of travelling by bus, I’m just grateful the bus stop has a shelter as curtains of rain obscure the view of the open fields on the other side of the road.

  I only have forty pounds cash to my name; no accommodation; no phone; no friends and no plan.

  As I gaze into rain-swept fields lost in my thoughts, a voice comes out of nowhere...

  ‘Joe?’

  Hearing my name startles me. I turn to face the man who has appeared to my right.

  ‘Joe, thank goodness, I thought I’d missed you.’

  It’s DCI Myddlewood, I just stare at him; is he coming to re-arrest me? He sits down on the bench at the side of me. Like a zombie, I return to gazing straight ahead.

  Overall, I don’t know what I want, but the one thing I don’t want is the Police here giving me grief.

  ‘Joe, I know I’m probably the last person you want to see.’

  Inside I have a feeling of contempt itching to display itself but I don’t have the emotional strength to display any feelings, not even negative ones.

  ‘Listen, I’m sorry.’

  I turn to him in disbelief.

  ‘I’m sorry we got so fixated on you being the guilty person in this case that you became our only focus, although that said, you answering “no comment” to our questions didn’t help your cause. Anyway, the case is still open if you could help us by giving your side of the events. I know this is probably the last thing you want at the moment and I must stress you’ll be helping us this time rather than being a suspect. If you can help, between us we’ll get justice for Jill and closure for everything you’ve been through. Have a think about it. Do you have an address where I can contact you?’

  I return to gazing straight ahead, before speaking.

  ‘I don’t have anything arranged yet, so I’ll probably check myself into a hotel for the night and get things sorted tomorrow.’

  ‘Sorry Joe, you might have some issues with your cards and cash. There’s no easy way to tell you this, but everything you have access to... is in that plastic bag on your knee.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘All your assets, and I mean all, are either frozen or confiscated due to the investigations in this case. We’ve submitted the forms to clear these restrictions... in triplicate! But it’ll take five weeks to process, fingers crossed you should get everything back in 6 to 7 weeks, around the first week in September.’

  ‘Great! And what do I do for the next seven weeks?’

  DCI Myddlewood takes a moment to reply. ‘I guess you’ll need to rely on friends for the time being.’

  ‘... Are you kidding me, friends, what friends? Thanks to this case I have none.’

  ‘What about that woman in the public gallery of the court, you both looked happy to see each other?’

  ‘Luciana? Of course, but...’ I scramble around in my head trying to think coherently.

  I turn to DCI Myddlewood and give him a look of gratitude; he has just thrown a life belt to a drowning man.

  ‘Luciana, why do I know that name?’ DCI Myddlewood looks to me for the answer.

  ‘Luciana Melas is my housemate, we share an apartment back in New Jersey, how on earth can I find her? She’ll not still be at the court... and I
didn’t even know she was in the country until this afternoon.’

  ‘Have you got a phone number for her?’ DCI Myddlewood asks.

  Without replying I rip open the seal of the plastic bag and reach down to the very bottom for my cell phone.

  DCI Myddlewood bursts out laughing, ‘Does that brick even work?’ nodding to the phone in my hand.

  ‘Not here in the UK, but I can access the address book with her number in, could you help me out by calling her off your phone?’

  ‘Go on then, what’s her number?’

  I read it out and he types it into his phone. ‘Sorry Joe, it’s not connecting.’

  I look into the dull grey overcast sky despondently.

  ‘You need my detective skills, Joe... if she’s travelled alone, she’ll want to base herself in a place that is as familiar as possible. Did she have any contact with you when you arrived back in the UK, did she know where you were staying, the area, who your friends are?’

  ‘Yes, she knew all my travel plans, we share a computer and she also contacted Jill.’

  ‘Really, with Jill, so the three of you were in conversation with each other leading up to that Easter Sunday, the day Jill was murdered?’

  ‘Luciana and Jill were in conversation with each other, I didn’t find out about it until the Easter Sunday morning.’

  ‘Joe, we really need to talk.’

  ‘... And we will, but please help me to find her.’

  ‘Joe, this is critical information, before you speak to her we need to interview her as a witness. Right, I need to get a grip on this situation, I’ll use my contact down at the Council and get you into a hostel whilst we sort out your finances and accommodation. For the time being, DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CONTACT HER, I’m serious Joe it’ll look like you’ve got something to hide if you do. Once we’ve got a statement, I will personally make arrangements for you to meet and it’ll be as soon as possible, I promise.’

  DCI Myddlewood stands up, ‘come on, we need to get back, I’ll drive you over to the Council hostel.’

  Chapter 26

  We jog through the rain back to DCI Myddlewood’s car in the car park at the front of the Remand Centre.

  ‘Jump in Joe it’s open.’

  Simultaneously from either side of the car we climb in. He starts the car and drives off at speed.

  ‘What’s the rush?’ I say whilst trying to put on my seatbelt.

  ‘Don’t you see Joe? This is the first opportunity for us to get the full picture, everything we need to finally bring the person who murdered Jill to justice.’

  We are waiting for the traffic on the main road to pass so we can leave the car park; DCI Myddlewood leans forward to check right for a gap in the traffic, as he waits, he turns back to his left and looks me in the eyes. ‘You’re still willing to help aren’t you Joe?’

  I’m still wary and need clarification. ‘As a witness not a suspect?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes Joe, as a witness, don’t get freaked out if we do things formally though, we can’t afford any part of this second investigation to go wrong otherwise we’ll lose the opportunity to track down and convict the killer.’

  ‘Then yes. What’s first.’

  ‘Tracking down your friend Luciana, that’s the first thing we need to do.’

  We turn out onto the main road; we’ve only driven for a minute when DCI Myddlewood turns left into a small country lane and parks up.

  ‘That’s it!’

  He scrambles to find his phone in his jacket pocket. Frantically he scrolls through his phone for a number, presses his selection and lifts the phone to his ear. ‘Rob... it’s Dave, how soon can you get to the Riverside Lido Hotel?’

  I can’t hear the response.

  DCI Myddlewood continues. ‘Yes, I need you to check if there is a Luciana Melas there and if she is... okay, can you ask uniform to attend then, find her, then bring her back to Lee Street nick?... I know the hotel is on the ‘D’ Division... I’m not asking ‘D’ Division I’m asking you... for the love of all that is holy, will you just ask comms to send our patrol two minutes over our boundary, go to the hotel, pick up a Luciana Melas and bring her back to the nick?... No, she isn’t under arrest she’ll be helping with enquiries... listen if you have any problems tell her we are reuniting her with Joseph Ryebank, I’m sure that’ll convince her to come... yes...yes...no... thank you, see you in the morning.’

  An exasperated DCI Myddlewood puts his phone away.

  ‘That sounded like hard work!’

  He starts the car again and whilst performing a three-point turn, he replies, ‘it was! We’re on the “J’” Division, the hotel is on the “D” Division, two minutes over the boundary, some people, even in our force think it’s like The Dukes of Hazzard where we only go up to the County Line... crazy!’

  ‘Do you think she’ll be there?’

  ‘I know the psychology of people Joe, if she’s travelled to this country on her own she’ll attach herself to something that she is familiar with, in this case she’ll want to stay at a place she associates with you, hence why I’m starting at the hotel.’

  The journey back to my hometown only takes half-an-hour, we park up on a side street next to the hostel and make our way to the reception. A member of staff shows me to the lounge whilst DCI Myddlewood disappears off into the office with the hostel manager. An hour later he reappears.

  ‘Good news and bad news Joe, bad news first, there’s no room here, good news there is a fully furnished emergency flat available on the other side of town, they’re decent flats and there is a support team who can help you out with day to day things until we can get everything back for you.’

  ‘Great.’ I’ll take anything at the moment, I’m exhausted and I just need to rest.

  DCI Myddlewood looks very smug. ‘...and, I was right, Luciana was at the hotel and is currently back at the nick with a cup of coffee awaiting our arrival... that is if you’re up to it Joe?’

  ‘So, I’ll be able to see her, today?’

  DCI Myddlewood sits down next to me.

  ‘Yes, she’s making a statement now so it’s all legal and can be used in any future court case, so once we’ve done that, you are free to spend as much time together as you like. To be honest, it’s just a formality, I didn’t want you to meet first in case we do secure a suspect then, in court, for some smart-arse Barrister to insinuate that Luciana’s statement might have been influenced by you, I’m sure you’ve had enough of that type of accusation from this trial?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve had just about all I can take with the character assassination; I don’t understand though?’

  ‘What don’t you understand Joe?’

  ‘Why you’re so much on my side. What is it; good cop, then you take me back to the Police Station to be subjected to the bad cop?’

  DCI Myddlewood laughs. ‘No Joe, all that went out with the Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984. We’re no longer allowed to beat information out of you! It’s all good cop, good cop...’

  There’s a pause... He now has a serious expression on his face.

  ‘Joking apart Joe, there is a reason I’m on your side... just between us?’

  That statement unnerves me, but I decide I can trust him. ‘Yeah okay, just between us.’

  ‘I know you Joe; I’ve known you since your childhood and into your teenage years. Remember that young beat bobby that used to chase you and your friends out of the disused brickworks? That was me! I know what type of person you are, and, more importantly the type of person you’re not.’

  I stare at his face and search my memory, ‘I remember you now, you had a moustache, I can’t believe how different you look without it!’

  With a look of nostalgia on his face, DCI Myddlewood continues. ‘I rocked that Freddie Mercury look! Plus, it’s been quite a few years since... I’ve put a few pounds on since then... 28 years in the force in total.’

  ‘So why do you know me so well?’

  ‘There’s a strange irony to p
olicing, sometimes we forge relationships with the higher-ups of criminal gangs. You see there is a hierarchy, even in criminality and the general public would probably be shocked to hear that it is the gangs themselves that keep a lid on most lower-level crime, not us. My forged relationship was with your father...’

  ‘I’ll stop you there DCI Myddlewood... that lowlife you talk about, he isn’t my father.’

  In the uncomfortable pause I can hear the ticking of the clock on the wall at the side of me.

  He breaks the silence. ‘So, you know then?’

  I nod.

  ‘I know too Joe,’ he looks around to make sure everyone is out of earshot... ‘I know he isn’t... I know that Mick is your real father, and, Jill is your Sister. Like I said Joe, I know you, I’m on your side.’

  I’m shell-shocked.

  Then without warning, DCI Myddlewood stands to his feet. ‘Grab your things we’re going,’ he says assertively.

  As we leave, we thank the staff and return to DCI Myddlewood’s car. Once in the car he turns to me. ‘I’m going to take you straight to Lee Street nick rather than taking you to your flat. On that estate they can sense a cop from a mile away, if they clock us together, they’ll think you’re either undercover or a “grass” ... and you really wouldn’t want that, trust me.’

  ‘That’s fine.’

  We set off and at the junction we take a left off the side street back on to the main road towards the town centre.

  ‘So, I take it you know what happened to my Dad... Mick... then?’ I was hoping for a simple yes, I didn’t get it.

  ‘He did a runner. There were rumours about... you know... about...’

  ‘About me being his son?’

  ‘Yeah, so he left.’

  ‘Do you really believe that?’