by Helen Phifer
Greg Barker was nursing a mug of tea, and there was an untouched biscuit next to it. He didn’t lift his head to even acknowledge Ben or Abigail when they walked in. Tom had insisted on being present while he was interviewed, along with the solicitor who had been called out. Ben knew he was fearful of a repeat of earlier. Sitting down, he set up his laptop and turned it to face Greg with the video paused.
‘Greg, I’d like to talk to you about some new information which has come to light. I need you to watch this video.’
‘No comment.’
He didn’t lift his head.
‘Right then, I’ll just play it and see if you want to make a comment after it finishes. For the benefit of the tape I’m showing Gregory Barker some footage received as evidence.’
Tom walked around until he was standing behind Greg and could see the screen. Ben pressed play. Greg lifted his head to take a look; his eyes were red and swollen from the PAVA, making him look as if he’d been crying for hours. As the video played, he sat up straight. His solicitor and Tom both squirmed. Greg’s hands curled into fists. Tom waited until it finished then nodded at Ben and left the room.
‘Where did you get that? I want to make a complaint, that was taken without my knowledge.’
Ben had to admit the guy had balls. He was banged up, about to be questioned about murdering at least four people and he was still playing the victim.
‘We’ll deal with that later.’
‘Good, because it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?’
‘What’s obvious? The only thing I can see is that you and Olivia Potter were clearly having an affair.’
‘Obvious that whoever sent that is the killer. Why would I kill the woman I loved and her family?’
‘You tell me, it looks to me as if she’s angry with you when she’s walking away from you. Was she trying to break up with you? You seem to me like a man who is used to getting what he wants. If she didn’t want you maybe you decided to teach her a lesson.’
Greg was shaking. He slammed his fists down on the table in front of him, and his solicitor pushed his chair away from him.
‘Calm down, Mr Barker, you’re not helping yourself.’
He turned to look at his solicitor and roared, ‘Get out, you useless piece of crap.’
The solicitor looked at Ben and shrugged. ‘Have it your way.’
Shuffling the papers in front of him, he snapped his briefcase shut and walked out of the door.
Now it was just Ben, Abigail, Barker and the two coppers on standby behind him.
‘What’s it going to be, are you going to answer my questions or not? I think that was a very bad move. Do you want me to ask your solicitor to come back in?’
Barker sat back in his chair, crossed his legs and stared at Ben. ‘No comment and it’s going to be no comment for every single question. So, unless you have enough evidence to charge me you only have a few more hours to keep me here, then you’re going to have to release me on bail. You’ve already screwed my entire life up, there’s nothing left to lose.’
Ben smiled at him. ‘Well, I’m getting paid for this so we might as well go through the motions.’
Abigail slid a clipboard across the desk to him and he began to read off his list of questions to be greeted with a ‘no comment’, every single time.
Forty-Eight
Morgan waited in the office for Ben. She’d shown Amy a copy of the footage. When he finally appeared, his face was red and he’d undone the top buttons on his shirt. His tie was loosened, and he looked like he needed to go home and sleep for a week.
‘How did it go?’
‘Rubbish, he’s not coughing to anything. Sacked his solicitor after ten minutes and went “no comment” the rest of the interview. How did you get on at the library?’
‘Interesting, the librarian said someone else had been in two weeks ago to search for the exact same thing I was looking for. Said he was a teenage boy with nice hair who kept running his fingers through it.’
‘Harrison Wright?’
‘I think so; he had a girl with him. She waited outside.’
Ben sat down and leant forward, putting his head in his hands. ‘This whole thing is a mess, it’s far too complicated for my poor brain.’
Amy threw him a Snickers.
He held his hand up. ‘If you say anything.’
‘I’m not, I wouldn’t. But you’re not yourself when you’re hungry.’
‘Amy.’
‘Sorry, couldn’t help it. So, what’s what and who’s who?’
‘I wish I knew; I think Barker has the motive, and he’s definitely angry enough. I’ve never seen so much hostility come off a man who’s supposed to be a pillar of the community. He’s like a man possessed.’
‘Maybe he needs a Snickers too.’ Amy laughed at her own joke. Ben shook his head. Morgan stood by the whiteboard, uncapping a pen. She wrote three headings: Potters, Stone and O’Briens; underneath she wrote the families’ names. Underneath Potters and O’Briens she wrote ‘Gregory Barker’.
‘What connections did Barker have with Stone?’
‘He would have known him. He never admitted anything when I asked him just now though. I can’t see how the mayor and the editor of the paper wouldn’t be acquainted. We need it confirming. Write an action under Stone’s name to speak to other councillors and staff at the paper, see if they knew each other.’
Morgan did. ‘Harrison Wright, he knew the Potters. He’s far too young to have known the O’Briens though. However, I think he did know about them. I’m pretty sure it was him who went to the library to research their murders. Why was he interested in them? Also we don’t know if Bronte had a role in this. If she was with him it could have been the both of them and somehow it all went wrong.’
‘We need to speak to him. I want him bringing back in for questioning ASAP. Have response officers located him yet? Write that down as an action, and when Bronte wakes up we’ll question her to see if she remembers anything, but my focus would be Harrison.’
‘What about Stan Brookes?’
Ben looked at her, but she didn’t make eye contact with him and continued.
‘Well he was the last person to see the Potters and he knew the O’Briens. He’s the right age, so I don’t think he can be totally discounted. I spoke to him this morning, though. I don’t think he’s the killer, but…’
‘Put his name on the board, but somehow I don’t see Stan as a viable suspect. For one thing I get the impression he hasn’t got the balls and there’s another.’
‘What?’
‘He likes to drink. The Potters’ murders wasn’t some unorganised spur-of-the-moment killing. It was an organised killing. Whoever did it planned it out; we know that because of the tox results. There were traces of GHB in their systems. They didn’t drug themselves and it’s not the kind of thing I think Stan would be into. This killer took their time in researching and planning. Why did they hang Olivia, though? She didn’t have the head injuries the others did.’
There was a knock on the door and Declan walked in. ‘Hope I’m not disturbing anything?’
Ben shook his head.
Morgan turned away, relieved. As much as she disliked Stan, he was still her dad. Although she owed him no loyalty, after their little chat this morning she had found the block of ice beginning to thaw whenever she thought about him. It would have been hard to come to terms with it if Ben thought he was the killer.
‘I can tell you why Olivia didn’t have her brains smashed in. She was already dead. The killer had given her a fatal dose of GHB; the levels in her results were much higher than the others.’
‘Then why hang her if she was already dead?’
‘Maybe whoever it was didn’t want to think they’d killed her. It made them feel better if they remembered her hanging; they couldn’t force themselves to beat her like the rest. Just a theory, by the way, but might as well throw it in there.’
Morgan was writing everything down. ‘Why fe
el guilty about her and not the others? I don’t get it. Or why not give them all a fatal dose?’
‘To be honest I can’t tell you that. What I can tell you is each victim had a different dosage of the drug in their system, which tells me that I don’t think the person who administered it had a bloody clue what they were doing. It was hit and miss.’
‘Maybe whoever it was had a burning hatred of Saul and Beatrix, yet not Olivia? And where does Bronte come into this? They didn’t hit her as hard as the other two; she survived.’
Morgan shrugged. ‘I think whoever did this loved Olivia far more than the others, which brings it back around to Barker. He was having an affair with her.’
Ben looked up. ‘Oh, he was definitely having an affair with her. I think that CCTV footage Morgan secured proved that beyond reasonable doubt. He admitted that before he clammed up and went “no comment”. Said why would he kill the woman he loved and her family. Taskforce are on the way to his house to search it and his car; hopefully they find something of forensic value.’
Declan sat on a desk next to Amy and they were whispering about something. Morgan looked away, her paranoia getting the better of her.
Ben stood up. ‘Right then, we need to find Harrison Wright. He might be able to tell us a lot more about this than he’s letting on, and do we have an update on Bronte? Life would be so much easier if we could talk to her.’
Declan held up his hand. ‘Actually, that’s why I’m here. I was passing and thought I’d give you the news.’
Morgan felt her heart drop to the bottom of her stomach; even though she didn’t know the girl she didn’t want her to be dead. She’d been rooting for her since she’d found her.
Declan continued. ‘The hair sample tested positive for GHB and she’s awake.’
Ben clapped and Amy let out a whoop of delight.
‘Bad news is, she isn’t speaking much. Can’t remember anything about what happened from what I can gather, although her consultant can tell you more. You can thank me later. Ben, you owe me a drink or two when this is sorted.’
Ben grinned at Declan. ‘I do, thank you. Come on, Amy, we need to get to the hospital and speak with Bronte.’
Morgan felt deflated. She’d wanted to be the one to speak to her and she hadn’t been given the chance. She turned away from everyone and wrote the information Declan had shared on the board.
Declan was still sitting there when she turned around. Everyone else had left.
‘You okay?’
‘Yes, thanks. Are you?’
‘Wonderful, how are you getting on with the O’Brien case?’
‘I have a couple of leads, but nothing concrete.’
‘Well that’s good, it’s not going to be easy; it’s old. You’re probably missing crucial evidence not to mention witnesses and suspects. Is there anything of forensic value that could be retested?’
She told him about the small square of carpet in the hall cupboard.
‘That’s great, it’s a start. You might get trace evidence back from it or if you do get a suspect there’s always a slim chance they might still have something with traces of the fibres on.
‘Hey, you know he likes you a lot. But he’s also a guilt-ridden, mixed-up workaholic. Give him a chance, sometimes he doesn’t see what’s in front of his nose. He’s too busy sorting out everyone else’s lives.’
Morgan laughed. ‘We’re not, well you know… It’s strictly a professional relationship.’
Declan nodded. ‘Might be better to keep it that way, at least until he comes to his senses. Not that it’s anything to do with me. I’m just an old romantic. I like to see people happy and I think Ben deserves a bit of happy. Wait until you see him cleaned up, when he’s had a shave and a decent haircut. He scrubs up quite well. Not sure the paunch is as easy to get rid of, but behind it he used to have a decent set of abs and plenty of muscles.’
She smiled, her face flushed pink. What had her life come to getting relationship advice from a doctor who only worked with dead people?
‘Thanks, I’ll remember that.’
‘Anytime. I have to go; I’m not used to being around so many living souls, it’s not good for my chakras.’
She laughed and he waved as he walked out of the door. She wondered about him, if he had a partner. He was funny and refreshingly caring considering she’d only met him a couple of times. Each time she’d met him he’d been kind to her; it meant a lot.
Forty-Nine
The sister looked both Amy and Ben up and down. She wasn’t having any of it.
‘She’s too poorly to be questioned.’
‘She’s alive though, and her entire family are dead; do you not think she’ll want us to catch their killer? We need to know what she remembers; anything is good. We won’t press her too hard. Please, it’s very important.’
Amy nodded. ‘Just a few questions.’
The sister folded her arms across her chest. ‘Five minutes.’
‘Does she know about her family?’
She shook her head. ‘Poor thing, not yet.’
Ben didn’t say it, but he was going to have to break the bad news to her and he wasn’t relishing being the bastard who ruined her life for the second time. Right now, she knew she was in hospital and had been poorly and that was it.
The sister led them into the ICU and towards the room at the end. He could see her propped up in bed. She was staring at the other patients.
Amy whispered, ‘This is going to be bad.’
He nodded, there was no doubt about it.
‘Bronte, these are some detectives. They need to have a little chat. They won’t be staying long, is that okay?’
The girl looked at Ben and Amy. One eye was swollen almost shut and that side of her face was a mass of purple and yellow bruises.
‘Yes,’ she croaked.
‘I’ll be just over there by the nurses’ station. I’m watching, if you need me raise your hand, okay?’
Ben knew the nurse didn’t want to be associated with any part of this. She was here to make the kid feel better not a hundred times worse. He stepped inside and smiled at her.
‘I’m so glad to see you’re awake, Bronte. I’m Ben and this is my colleague, Amy. She’s not as scary as she looks.’
Bronte’s lip turned up slightly in a half smile. He sat on the chair closest to her bed. Amy stood behind him.
‘I know you feel rubbish and are in a lot of pain, but we need to ask you some questions about what happened.’
She nodded then grimaced. ‘What did happen?’
Ben glanced at Amy, but she didn’t speak. She was letting him take the lead and for once he wished she’d butted in like she usually did. It seemed no one had the heart to break the news to the poor girl.
‘You were found with serious head injuries in the cellar of your house by a police officer and brought to the hospital. Do you remember what happened, how you got those injuries?’
She closed her eyes for a few moments then opened them.
‘No, I can’t remember anything. Except waking up here with the worst headache I’ve ever had. Where’s my mum and dad? I thought they’d be here.’
Ben swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of his throat. ‘The nurse is sorting that out.’
He couldn’t tell her just yet because she’d dissolve in tears and he wouldn’t get another thing out of her.
‘Was there anything that happened that night in your house that was unusual? Did anyone turn up you weren’t expecting? Any workmen, friends, neighbours?’
She paused. ‘Harrison is usually at mine when he’s not at work.’
‘Was he there?’
She closed her eyes. ‘I don’t know.’
Amy got a photo of Greg Barker up on her phone and held it in front of her. ‘What about him, do you know him?’
‘Yeah, Greg. I know him, he comes around a bit. Usually when my dad’s at work.’
Ben sat forward. ‘Was he there before you got hurt?�
��
She shrugged. ‘I can’t remember anything. I’m trying to but it’s like a black cloud in my mind.’
He reached out and took hold of her hand. ‘It’s okay, you’re doing really well. Does your mum see Greg a lot?’
The question hung in the air; the girl might be injured but he could tell by the look in her eyes she wasn’t stupid.
‘Like are they having an affair?’
Ben nodded.
‘I don’t know, my dad isn’t around much, and they argue a lot when he is. I want to see my mum now, please; can you get her, and Bea?’
Squeezing her hand, he took a deep breath. ‘I have something terrible to tell you and it’s not easy to say.’
She blinked her eyes wide, staring at him.
‘You weren’t the only person found in the cellar, sweetheart, your dad and Beatrix were with you.’
‘Are they hurt, are they in hospital, where’s Mum?’
The air in the room was suffocating and Ben wanted to run out of there and into the car park as fast as he could. He couldn’t do this. He turned to look at Amy, who was shaking her head. He took a deep breath.
