‘He was here… Mac. He can’t have gone far. But I don’t think Simon…’
‘We’ll get him,’ he says, more to Grace than me.
‘What was all that about with Terry?’ she says, and Melville smiles back at her kindly.
‘It started when I saw your birth certificate,’ he says. ‘It was in the name of Jasmine Long… after your mother. It names your father as Herbert Long, a junior manager in the Post Office. Date of birth says the first of January ’84. Probably the only fact you ever knew.’
‘I suppose that’s something,’ she says. ‘But how did you come across it?’
‘It all started when we were investigating the fire…’ Melville says, looking across at Herb. ‘We found a blonde hair and a small fingerprint inside the front door.’
‘Oh, yeah,’ she says, smiling furtively at the look of bewilderment spreading across Herb’s face.
‘At first Pinner said it was just further evidence confirming his belief that Long… was in the habit of having kids in the house. A proposition he’d asserted many times. That you,’ he stares into Herb’s eyes like he’s looking into his soul, ‘are a paedophile.’
‘That dirty bastard!’ Herb mutters, a look of disgust distorting his features.
‘What, on the strength of a hair and a small fingerprint?’ I say in disbelief.
‘Exactly,’ Melville says, raising his voice and prompting Herb to straighten up, ‘But I now know that was a malicious lie he’d been putting around to incriminate you for years. And once again, here he was trying to use it to dismiss evidence and divert attention away from the arson investigation.’
‘Because he knew who did it,’ Herb says and Melville nods back at him.
‘So how did you know it was my hair?’ Grace says.
‘I didn’t,’ Melville replies. ‘Not at first. We couldn’t get a match on the fingerprint either.’
‘But you suspected me anyway,’ Grace says.
‘What, you tricked her?’ I butt in. ‘Last week in the café… into incriminating herself?’
‘Hold on a minute,’ he says. ‘Let me explain. At first Pinner didn’t want us wasting time on these pieces of evidence because we couldn’t be sure how long they’d been there. Even when we found a small shoeprint in the mud by the back door he wasn’t interested. Then, all of a sudden, he completely changed his tune and it was as though they were the most important leads we had. I couldn’t understand it. He’d made up his mind they belonged to the arsonist even though there were other aspects of the fire that just didn’t fit.’
‘Like what?’ I say.
‘Well, it bore all the hallmarks of a professional job, done in the dead of night. This was no act of teenage vandalism. I told the guv’nor there was no way a serious arsonist would use a back door for access and then hang around behind the front door, leaving fingerprint and DNA evidence, when that part of the house had any chance of not being destroyed in a subsequent fire. Whoever started that fire would have entered and left the building as close to the point of origin as possible.’
‘What did he say?’ Grace asks.
‘He said, what we had was as close to a smoking gun as we were going to get, and to stop wasting time on fanciful theories and deal with the evidence in front of us.’
‘Again, to lead you away from Riggs,’ Herb says and gets the same acknowledgement from Melville.
‘So, at his insistence and based on the tenuous correlation of the size of the fingerprint and the shoe impression, we went back and narrowed the fingerprint down to a number of possible juvenile records on the system. None was conclusive. But that’s where Mr Field came in.’
‘I did?’
‘Remember, you called me to report a disturbance involving someone called Grace de Manton? When I realised you were talking about Miss Pinner I had an idea. I didn’t understand what was going on with you three that night; especially when that house was dark and deserted by the time I arrived. But it gave me a hunch and I went back and expanded the search to include de Manton. Something very interesting came back under that name. But when I met with you on Friday,’ he turns to look at Grace, ‘I have to admit I still only had a reasonable suspicion you’d been in Long’s house on the day of the fire.’
‘Grace?’ Herb says. ‘What were you even doing in there?’
‘I don’t know…’ she says. ‘I just wanted to find out more about you. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have broken in.’
‘But it wasn’t the first time you’d been caught housebreaking, was it?’ Melville asks and Grace responds with a silent nod while her cheeks flush loudly. ‘At the age of eleven, you got yourself arrested. The record said you initially gave a false name. Fortunately for me, the name was added to the database as an alias. That record, together with the fingerprint, the blonde hair and the size-three shoeprint, that couldn’t have been there before the rain earlier that day, provided a reasonable probability that it had been you… in the house just before the fire. But before I decided to confront you, I showed the results to the boss. As you might imagine that was a challenging conversation.’
‘That’s when he told you to drop it,’ I say, remembering the previous conversation.
‘Yes. At first he was in denial; to the point where he almost cracked my head open on his office wall. Then he started acting strangely. He said he’d known all along you’d committed some minor offences before they adopted you, but he said that was all in the past. He told me to bury any proof that you’d ever been in Long’s house. When we then met in the afternoon and your admission matched with the evidence and once I’d heard your explanation, I started to realise there was more to this than Terry Pinner just trying to protect you. It didn’t add up and I got the impression there was someone else he was covering for. You came to see him on Saturday afternoon, didn’t you Grace?’
‘Yes.’
‘I don’t know what you said to him but when you left he was in a foul mood – even for him. When he headed out for a meeting no one else seemed to know anything about, I decided to follow him. That’s when I saw him with Riggs.’
‘I’ve known it all along,’ Herb says. ‘Those two have been in league.’
‘In the meantime,’ Melville says, ‘something had made me go back and look further into that little girl’s history. But I had to go over his head to get authority to see her records at social services. It didn’t quite work out the way I’d planned because my request was referred back to him, along with the information I was asking for. He summoned me into his office early on Sunday morning, and it was a very different conversation. He threw the file across his desk and when I opened it, on the top was a copy of the birth record of the little girl previously known as Grace James, more recently Grace Pinner and, it seems, occasionally Grace de Manton.’ He looks into her eyes. ‘Like I said, the birth certificate confirmed the baby was originally named Jasmine Long.’
‘What did he say?’ I ask.
‘That it didn’t change anything. He wanted me to stop wasting time following up on what he called coincidence and innuendo. He said he was closing down the arson investigation, given that the owner hadn’t been traced, and he wanted me to take over a new case right away. Instead, I spent the day looking back through some old files relating to Riggs where Pinner had also been involved, and a pattern started to emerge. I got in touch with the Assistant Chief Constable and he brought in Anti-Corruption. From one of the files we picked up a reference to Riggs being injured in a bad accident years ago. When that led us to the car crash that killed Mrs Long I knew we were onto something.’
‘He killed her,’ Herb says through gritted teeth. ‘I always said he killed her. No one would believe me.’
‘When I went to see Terry,’ Grace says, ‘he admitted he was first on the scene.’
‘Yes, that’s what I discovered,’ Melville says, ‘in his initial assessment report. It said the drivers of both vehicles – a red saloon and a white hatchback – were women. The one driving the w
hite car was pronounced dead at the scene and she had a male passenger. The male was identified as Raymond Riggs and it said, although he was conscious, his legs were badly crushed. Apart from that, he suffered injuries to his neck and a deep laceration to his face. Pinner’s report stated that he dragged Riggs clear of the wreckage as a precaution because he was concerned with the risk of fire and a possible explosion. It was less detailed about the injuries to the woman travelling with Riggs, but as I read through the file I saw that the post-mortem showed massive trauma to her upper body, including fatal injuries to the head and spine.’
‘Jesus!’ says Herb.
‘In contrast…’ Melville hesitates then continues in a subdued voice, ‘Mrs Long’s injuries, at least as determined on arrival at A&E, were remarkably similar to those sustained by Riggs – predominantly to the legs, some restraint bruising across the chest and what was described as minor impact bruising to the head. She was also conscious, but there’s no reference to her being moved from the vehicle before the paramedics arrived.’
I can see Grace’s eyelids brimming and she blinks, releasing the suppressed grief in a torrent down her face. I turn to comfort her and at the same time Herb leans forward and touches her hand.
‘I’m sorry,’ Melville says,’ I don’t want to make this any worse than it already is.’
‘Go on,’ she says. ‘I need to know.’
‘Subsequent documents confirm the leg injuries in each case were sustained from the displacement of the engines through the foot wells of each vehicle and this led me to become suspicious. Pinner’s report states the collision was head-on and the photographs show the point of impact being off-centre, on the driver’s side. It says that Riggs’ girlfriend had misjudged the bend and the steep incline ahead. That she had lost control and crossed the carriageway. And then didn’t make it back into the left lane before hitting the oncoming vehicle.’
‘Oh my god,’ I say with a shudder, getting a flashback to our drive home from the country on Sunday.
‘I had to believe,’ Melville continues, ‘that both drivers should have had the same leg injuries. There was the added confusion surrounding the use of seat-belts. The report said only Riggs was buckled up, but made clear that while his passenger was ejected through the windscreen, Mrs Long remained seated in her car. One photograph showed the front of the car Riggs was in and the windscreen was shattered across its entire width, not just on the drivers’ side. I started to become convinced Riggs had been driving. He survived because he was wearing a seat belt and because, by pure chance, his head injuries were only superficial. I believe Mrs Long was also wearing her seat belt, but her injuries proved to be more serious than originally thought.’ He looks down as he says it and Grace looks into Herb’s eyes.
‘They missed it,’ Herb says. ‘She was only concerned for you... She told them to stop fussing over her and to check the baby. They said it was fine and they moved her to the obstetrics ward for observation. Because of that they missed the skull fracture. She’d been bleeding in her brain and the blood clot put her into a coma. They rushed her to neurology but it was too late.’ Grace looks back at him, too traumatised to speak.
‘I found a gap in the evidence inventory,’ Melville continues, almost in a whisper. ‘There was no witness statement and only a vague reference to a case of mistaken identity involving a suspected male drunk driver leaving a nearby pub on the night of the crash.’
‘That’s because there wasn’t one,’ Herb says and Melville frowns at him. ‘He made it all up… Mac. He’s your eye-witness. But he didn’t see them leaving any pub.’
‘What did he see?’ Grace says.
‘He came across the crash scene by pure chance. He saw Pinner drag Riggs from the driving seat and tamper with the evidence to make it look like the passenger had been at the wheel.’
‘Why didn’t he come forward?’ Melville says.
‘Believe me, I tried to get him to. He said he called the newspaper because he didn’t know how else to make things right. And then he didn’t think anyone would believe him if he went back and changed his story. Over the years I’ve come to suspect there was more to it than that. I know he has a phobia of the police; doesn’t trust anyone in authority. But if I’m honest, I think he probably had something of his own to hide that night. I’ve never asked.’
‘How did you get to know him Herb? I ask.
‘He came up to me in the pub after the inquest and told me what he’d seen. He was sleeping in his car at the time so I gave him somewhere to stay and he’s been loyal to me ever since.’
‘Witness statement or not,’ Melville cuts in like he’s keen to finish up and leave, ‘it was an anomaly that gave me reason enough to be concerned. With Pinner’s name all over the file, I couldn’t help wondering if he was as quick to remove inconvenient evidence back then as he is today. That’s when I found it, buried deep in the file. The blood test results from the hospital. It showed Riggs four times over the drink-drive limit.’
‘There,’ Herb says. ‘I always knew.’
Leaving Alone
Melville left after an uncomfortably long hug from Grace and a word of warning to Herb not to get too relaxed, on the basis that they’d no doubt be having further conversations in due course. All the balaclavas have now gone and Pinner’s been driven off in an unmarked car by the corruption cops. The white paper suits are still doing their thing in the cellar and there’s blue and white tape being unrolled everywhere – in the hall and outside. It seems unlikely Herb will be allowed to stay here while they continue to investigate. Finally there’s just the three of us in the room.
‘I didn’t get to see you,’ Herb says to Grace, ‘when you were born. They wanted me to. I suppose they thought it might change my mind. I just couldn’t. It’d all been too much. They’d already kept her... your mother alive for almost a month. They wanted the pregnancy to reach twenty-six weeks to give you the best chance. I had to sit and watch her breathing through a tube with no hope of her ever waking up. I’m sorry. At the end of that, I had nothing left to give you.’ He looks across to Grace with heavy eyes and she moves over and puts an arm around him. I finally see him looking at her like a father should look at his daughter.
‘The hospital gave me that photograph of the baby… of you,’ he says. ‘But it stayed in the envelope for years.’
‘When did you put it in the frame?’
‘After I sobered up on New Year’s Day. Ten years ago.’
‘What were you hoping to achieve that night?’
‘All I knew then was that you were Pinner’s daughter. I didn’t really have it in me to hurt you, but I suppose I thought if I could grab you… shake you up a bit, that would be enough to send him a message.’
‘So, what stopped you?’
‘It was the perfect opportunity; you’d gone to the toilet alone. But I hesitated long enough to see one of your friends produce a cake with a candle on it and I heard her say something about not waiting for the next day to celebrate your birthday. It felt like just a hideous coincidence, but it was enough to cut me off at the knees. I’d lost my nerve, and with your friends distracted, I just took the camera. When you came back, they gave you the cake and I took a photograph and went home. In the long hours of that night I opened the envelope and saw the picture of the baby for the first time. I knew it would have been her birthday too.’
‘It was my sixteenth,’ she says.
‘What changed your mind last week?’ I say, but he doesn’t seem to hear and continues looking at Grace.
‘When I sobered up, I felt ashamed of what I’d been planning to do – to kidnap a girl with the same birthday… So I threw the camera into a drawer. I didn’t give you another thought until I was told Mickey had found you…’
‘She found me, Herb,’ I say. He acknowledges me with a sigh and turns back to Grace.
‘Anyway, last week things were different. You were grown up. And you were getting close to my friend here. That made you a
threat. That’s why,’ he says, now looking at me, ‘I had to adapt my plan and use you to bring her to me. I wasn’t about to offer you a cut if you then had divided loyalties, lad. Not if you were then consorting with the same girl, all grown up; the daughter of one of my two worst enemies.’
‘And you honestly never considered… ’ I say, thrusting my finger at him, ‘it might have been the truth? That just maybe… she really was your daughter?’
‘What do you think lad? My wife gets killed and Pinner covers it up. The thought that I gave up my daughter and she ended up adopted by him was preposterous. Knowing it was true now is… killing me.’
They stay sitting together and now I’m the outsider.
‘At least he’ll get to pay for it,’ I say. ‘Prison won’t be much fun for a corrupt copper.’
‘Huh! Prison! I’ve always believed in punishment to fit the crime,’ he says. ‘Prison’s too good for him.’
‘So what now?’ I say, more to Grace than Herb, but he’s the one to answer.
‘There are going to be repercussions,’ Herb says. ‘I’m going to have to lie low for a while. But once they catch up with Riggs, the game will get easier. You can still help me keep it all together. The two of you would make a great team.’
‘The two of you,’ Grace sneers and we both turn to look at her, ‘are already a great team.’ She gets up and leaves the room without another word.
I tell Herb I’ll be in touch and rush out after her, nodding to the copper outside to let Melville know we’re heading home.
I catch up with her as she reaches her car that’s been parked around the back.
She turns to face me and says, ‘You killed a man.’
‘It was self-defence. I was young. Stupid. Just doing a job…’
‘Breaking into a house because someone told you to,’ she says cutting me to the quick. ‘Sound familiar?’
‘He would have killed me.’
‘Well, that we’ll never know.’
Mickey Take: When a debt goes bad... Page 33
