Dead To Me

by Staincliffe, Cath

  ‘Good news and bad news,’ Gill began. ‘Good news: we have a text from Raleigh to our victim arranging to visit her at two p.m. on the thirteenth. We have his car in the right place at the right time. We know he has lied to us on several counts. Bad news: we found nothing at his place of residence apart from the right make of condoms, no knife, no bloody togs. High-tech crime unit – still have to get back to us. Andy and Janet – Angela?’

  Andy and Janet looked at each other, some weird, polite dance going on as to who should talk. ‘Somebody,’ Gill prompted impatiently.

  ‘Grooming,’ Janet said, ‘apparently for his sole use. Met the three girls at Ryelands, started shagging Rosie, then Angela. Tells Angela he’s broken off with Rosie and she must do the same. Divide and rule. Told Angela she was the one and only. Probable he was still visiting Rosie. At some point he starts seeing Lisa, too. The texts say it all. Same style for both Angela and Lisa. His MO seems to be: send them a text, turn up, get his end away and leave. Angela swore blind he never laid into her. One thing she did say might be of interest: Rosie had threatened to report Raleigh, get him into trouble if he didn’t treat her right. Perhaps she tried that once too often?’

  Rachel tightened her mouth. Gill saw she was disturbed by the likely truth of what Janet suggested.

  ‘I’ve told forensic submissions that we want to run Raleigh’s DNA against our profiles immediately, if not sooner. Other thoughts?’ Gill said.

  ‘If he did kill Lisa,’ said Mitch, ‘why has he kept his sent messages? Why not cover his tracks?’

  ‘Because he’s an arrogant wanker,’ Rachel said, earning herself a round of applause.

  ‘You may be right,’ Gill said, ‘but it’s a good question. Lee?’ He usually had something useful to say on the murkier aspects of human behaviour.

  ‘People keep trophies, that’s a similar risk. Others keep things like the murder weapon because they aren’t sure how to dispose of them.’

  ‘So, he couldn’t work out how to delete his texts?’ Kevin sneered.

  ‘Or he chose not to,’ Lee said. ‘Rachel might be right, he’s a narcissist, the only world view he accepts is his own, high functioning, copes with social interaction well, but has a total lack of empathy and an inflated sense of self-importance. Any challenge to him, how he sees things, is completely disregarded. He is never wrong.’

  ‘Like the boss,’ Janet joked.

  Gill took a bow.

  ‘More bad news,’ Pete said. ‘The business about going on to a case conference at the town hall checks out. He arrived at ten to three, no mention of bloodstained clothing. I think somebody would have said.’

  ‘It might not have been visible,’ Rachel said.

  ‘Right, these guys need to plan and prep,’ Gill said. ‘Solicitor?’

  ‘With him now,’ said Andy.

  ‘Who is it?’ Gill asked.

  ‘Meacham,’ Andy said.

  She nodded. Could be worse.

  ‘Is that good?’ Rachel asked.

  ‘Course it’s not good,’ said Kevin. ‘It’s a solicitor, yeah?’

  ‘She won’t dick you about,’ Gill said, ignoring Kevin. ‘She’ll play it straight. The rest of you, you know what you’re doing? The slightest shred of something relevant and I want it pronto. Get going.’

  * * *

  Janet was helping Rachel rehearse the major steps of the interview when Gill stuck her head round the door. ‘Got you a present,’ Gill said, eyes bright. ‘Raleigh’s DNA – it’s a match in both scenes.’ Rachel gave a gasp, shot a look at Janet, I told you so. Janet felt her own skin tingle in turn.

  ‘But listen’ – Gill held up her finger – ‘from the outset you explain we want to discuss two separate incidents with him, then you divide the interview up. Understand?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Rachel.

  ‘Start with Lisa, take that as far as you can, and then tell him you want to talk about another matter. Keep them completely distinct,’ Gill said. ‘Have you eaten?’ She jerked her head. ‘I’m going down.’

  ‘We should,’ Janet said to Rachel.

  ‘I can’t,’ Rachel said.

  ‘Running on empty, not wise,’ Janet said.

  ‘I’ll live,’ Rachel said.

  ‘I’ll bring you a bun,’ Janet promised, and went with Gill.

  ‘She did good,’ Gill said to Janet as they set their trays down. ‘Reckon she can sustain it?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I hope so. D’you think I need some eject button – you know, agree a phrase to say if she’s veering off course?’

  ‘Might undermine her?’ Gill cut into her baked potato, scooped up a forkful, chewed and swallowed.

  ‘Yes,’ said Janet. ‘I could always suggest a break if necessary.’ She had some soup. ‘How’s Sammy?’

  Gill exhaled dramatically. ‘Sammy’s OK, it’s his bloody father that’s the problem.’ She stabbed her fork into the potato.

  ‘What now?’ Janet said.

  ‘I asked him to do the school run—’

  ‘College,’ Janet corrected her, knowing Sammy complained if Gill called it school, him being in sixth form and all.

  ‘—college run,’ Gill accepted. ‘And he only sends his floozie! Typical.’ She ate some more.

  ‘Well, it’s a lot to ask, Gill,’ Janet teased her. ‘A return journey, no less.’

  ‘And she fed him. Bitch.’ Gill sat forward, leaned in towards Janet. ‘I got asked out,’ she announced.

  ‘What! Who?’

  ‘The bloke who knocked Sammy down.’

  ‘Bit of an extreme way to get an introduction. What’s he like?’

  ‘Very nice,’ Gill beamed.

  ‘You said yes?’

  ‘I said maybe some other time. I can’t imagine it, can you? Starting on all that again. After all those years with buggerlugs … going with someone new … don’t know if I can.’

  Janet squirmed inside, prayed it wouldn’t show on her face. She wanted to change the subject, but that would look weird. ‘Course you can,’ she said. I did, she thought. It would be good for Gill, she’d had a hard few years. Janet knew she found it lonely. It was time she found somebody who really appreciated her. ‘Give us the low-down then?’ Janet said.

  ‘He’s called Matthew. He’s a GP. Separated, I think, grown-up daughter anyway. You know where the farm is, the one you see from ours? Well, he’s doing up the barn.’ She cleared her plate, set down her knife and fork and slapped the table. ‘Still, no chance at the moment, too much on. Andy,’ she said abruptly, ‘anything wrong that you’ve heard of?’

  Janet nearly choked. She forced the mouthful of soup down. ‘No, why?’

  Gill shrugged. ‘Seems a bit off.’

  Oh, hell. ‘Maybe he’s sickening for something,’ Janet said. ‘I’d not noticed, seems fine to me.’

  Gill stared at her, a tad too long, and Janet’s stomach turned over, her nerves jangled. ‘What?’ she said.

  ‘Rachel,’ Gill said, with a bob of her head, ‘I think she’s gonna work out fine.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Janet breathed again. ‘You know how to pick ’em.’

  ‘So I’ll not send her back?’

  ‘Not on my account.’ Janet smiled and struggled to drink a little more of her soup.

  ‘Can I take you back to the statement you made earlier today when you denied being in the Collyhurst area at all on Monday the thirteenth,’ Rachel began. ‘That is what you said?’

  ‘Because it’s true,’ he said coldly. Janet made notes, his answers would be on video and tape as well, but the paper gave her a chance to make observations too, flag up anything they might want to revisit.

  ‘You are the registered keeper of a Nissan Micra …’ Rachel quoted the registration number.

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘And you are the sole driver?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Rachel set a document down on the table. ‘I am now showing the suspect exhibit number BD4. This is a map drawn up using data fro
m our automatic number-plate recognition system. The crosses here show places where your vehicle was captured on Monday’ – Rachel pointed to the document – ‘the times are printed alongside each location.’

  He became very still.

  Janet hoped Rachel would wait, use the silence to exert pressure and force a response. But Rachel went on: ‘Explain that to me?’

  ‘I may have been mistaken.’ Raleigh looked at his solicitor, who wasn’t giving anything away.

  ‘Are you now saying you were in Collyhurst?’

  ‘Apparently,’ he said crisply.

  ‘Yes or no is fine,’ Rachel said. A little jibe that she didn’t need to make, that Janet wouldn’t have bothered with because it slightly weakened her position, indicated that he was getting to her.

  ‘Yes, then,’ he said.

  ‘What were you doing in Collyhurst?’ Rachel asked him.

  ‘I can’t remember,’ he said.

  Good, starting to fudge, knowing they were getting dangerously close.

  ‘Visiting a client, perhaps?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Visiting Lisa Finn at Fairland Avenue. Am I correct?’

  He swallowed.

  Rachel placed a second document down on the table. ‘I am now showing the suspect exhibit number TC2. This is a transcript of the text sent from your phone to Lisa Finn’s phone that morning. Please will you read it out to me,’ Rachel said.

  A look of hatred flashed over his face and Janet tensed. It was not unknown for suspects to lash out during an interview. And who knew how Rachel would deal with physical violence. If her chase after the taxi driver was any guide, she’d probably break the guy’s nose, which would not play well with CPS. But then Janet saw Raleigh close his eyes, calming himself before reading the message, his tone wooden. ‘“See you at two babe.”’

  ‘And the last letter?’ Rachel said.

  ‘An x.’

  ‘A kiss,’ Rachel said.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied, between his teeth.

  ‘I’ll ask you again: did you visit Lisa Finn at Fairland Avenue that afternoon as arranged?’

  He didn’t speak. His eyes were hard, full of loathing. Keep it steady, Janet willed Rachel.

  ‘No,’ he said quietly.

  ‘No?’ Rachel repeated. ‘Would you like to reconsider that answer?’ He stared at her hard, defiant, then Janet saw his gaze falter. He was weakening, she was sure. As the evidence built, he was being forced into a dead end with no way out.

  ‘Can you explain to me how your DNA ended up in Lisa’s bedroom?’

  Raleigh flinched, eyes blinking shut. Then he gave a shallow laugh. ‘All right …’ He raised his hands briefly, let them drop. ‘I was there. We had sex. That’s all. And she was perfectly fine when I left.’

  That’s all? Just abusing my position of trust, fucking the clients. Janet noted his admission.

  ‘You had sex with Lisa on the Monday afternoon?’

  ‘I just told you that.’ Arsey again.

  ‘What time did you arrive and leave?’

  ‘I got there about two and left around half past two, to go to the town hall.’

  ‘While you were at the flat, please describe to me which rooms you went in,’ Rachel said.

  ‘The bedroom and bathroom.’

  ‘Nowhere else?’

  ‘No.’

  He wasn’t scared, Janet thought. He was angry that he had been caught out, but he didn’t appear to be frightened of what else they might have on him. Was that because he had no more to reveal, or because his personality type made him overly arrogant?

  ‘On Monday, did Lisa resist you? Try to stop you?’

  ‘No, she wanted me there. She likes me,’ he said.

  ‘Lisa was expecting to have sex with you?’

  ‘That’s why I was there.’ Sneering, puffed up with his own inflated self-worth.

  ‘This had happened before?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How many times?’ Rachel said.

  ‘Eight, maybe ten.’

  ‘When did you first have sex with Lisa?’

  ‘I can’t remember.’ Something else he didn’t want to admit to? Why?

  ‘But you had been seeing her for sex on a regular basis for some months?’

  ‘She was seventeen,’ he said, as if that made it all right.

  ‘And she was your client,’ Rachel said.

  Tricky ground, Janet thought, ethics. Best left to the lawyers. Morally repugnant, but Rachel’s job was to tease out the facts and figures, and only that.

  Raleigh didn’t even have the grace to look ashamed. Said nothing.

  ‘When you left, where was Lisa?’

  ‘In bed.’

  ‘What was she wearing?’

  ‘A robe thing.’

  ‘While you were there, did Lisa go into the living room or kitchen?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Lisa was found dead shortly after your visit. What can you tell me about that?’

  ‘Nothing. I told you: we had sex, I left and she was fine.’

  ‘Did Lisa take drugs in your presence?’

  ‘No, I think she had some before I arrived.’

  ‘What made you think that?’ Rachel said.

  ‘She was high, uninhibited.’ He gave a slight smile, made Janet want to vomit.

  ‘Did you attack Lisa Finn?’

  ‘No. I’ve told you I didn’t. Why would I?’

  ‘Perhaps she argued with you, got aggressive – she had a history of such behaviour,’ Rachel said.

  ‘No, we were fine. We went to bed, then I left.’

  ‘What did you do with the condom?’

  He moved his head back in surprise. ‘I flushed it down the toilet.’

  Rachel put a photo on the table. ‘I am now showing the suspect exhibit number TP3. This is an item of jewellery that belonged to Lisa. Do you recognize it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Was she wearing it on Monday?’

  ‘Yes, I think so.’

  ‘Did you take it off her?’

  ‘No.’ He frowned, apparently not understanding why he was being asked about the cross and chain.

  ‘Did Sean Broughton know you and Lisa were having a sexual relationship?’

  ‘No, nobody knew.’

  ‘Why was that?’

  He stared at Rachel, his eyes flat. ‘Because I’d lose my job.’

  ‘Lisa lost her life,’ Rachel retorted.

  Nooo, thought Janet.

  The solicitor complained as Raleigh said hotly, ‘That has nothing to do with me.’

  Rachel sat back. ‘Let’s go over everything you’ve told me in greater detail.’

  He sighed bitterly and moved in his chair.

  ‘Starting with when you first met Lisa.’

  Another hour and Janet could see that he was finding it hard to maintain the veneer of civility, but even so his account had remained unwavering. Rachel finally declared they would take a break and Pete stopped the recording. Rachel went outside to smoke and Janet joined her there.

  ‘OK?’ Janet asked.

  ‘Slimy bastard,’ Rachel said.

  ‘Yes, you need to be careful with that, letting it show.’

  Rachel rolled her eyes.

  ‘You were fine ninety per cent of the time, really. It’s not easy.’

  ‘You think he’s lying? About the murder?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Janet said. ‘I think he is telling the truth about the sex being consensual: the text messages, what we know about Angela, all makes that plausible.’ She shuddered. ‘I’m freezing. I’ll go up.’

  ‘I don’t think he’s got a clue, that we’re after him for Rosie too,’ Rachel said, blowing out smoke. ‘D’you want coffee fetching?’

  The first time Rachel had offered to get her anything. ‘Thanks. Need something to keep me awake.’

  ‘Boring you, am I?’

  ‘Never that,’ Janet smiled, and hurried in as another gust of icy win
d blew round the corner.

  43

  AS FAR AS the high-tech crime unit could see, James Raleigh had been circumspect in his use of the computer for his sexual activities. No email traffic with the women he manipulated, no Facebook friends or chat-room sites. Nothing with other men that implicated him in any wider abuse.

  Gill summarized for the team: ‘He’s been careful to target women who were over sixteen and so avoid prosecution for statutory rape if found out. Of course his behaviour is totally unprofessional and we’ll see him struck off for what he’s disclosed so far. We’ve nothing on him for the murder. He’s put his hands up to consensual sex with Lisa and that’s our lot. We ask him about Rosie Vaughan next. Now, riddle me this – Lisa’s cross and chain: DNA traces from skin cells on the chain tells us it’s a woman. No hits, no previous record.’

  ‘Her mother,’ Rachel said. The girl had a real downer on Denise Finn.

  ‘Her mother gave her the necklace,’ Janet pointed out, ‘she would have handled it. That could easily account for it.’

  ‘Back in April – that’s eight months ago,’ Rachel said.

  ‘Dating DNA is a minefield,’ Gill reminded them. ‘It can last months, years even, and there’s no reliable way to pinpoint when it was left there. Thankfully, that didn’t occur to James Raleigh or he could have blown you off by saying he shagged Lisa weeks ago and the mucky mare hadn’t washed the sheets since.’

  ‘Probably hadn’t,’ Rachel said.

  ‘What about Angela?’ said Andy. ‘She’s besotted with Raleigh. If she caught wind he was two-timing her with Lisa—’

  ‘The pair have a history of animosity, fights at Ryelands,’ Mitch agreed.

  ‘Angela was slagging Lisa off when we were there,’ said Janet.

  It was worth following up. ‘Mitch and Kevin, can you go fingerprint Angela and get a DNA sample. If necessary, we ask Denise after that. But I don’t see any reason to go disturbing her at this time of night.’

  ‘So, how you fixed, lads?’ Gill looked from Rachel to Janet. ‘Round two?’

  ‘Yes, boss,’ said Rachel.

  ‘Think on,’ Gill said to her. ‘He’s getting tired, but so are you. Collected, clear, impersonal – yes?’

  ‘Yes,’ Rachel said impatiently. Gill raised an eyebrow. ‘Ma’am,’ Rachel added.