Kidger said, “Needless to say the utmost care must be exercised in tackling this extremely delicate situation, to avoid further psychological harm being inflicted on the children. I cannot stress strongly enough, Sergeant, the negative impact on these innocent young minds if your officers were just allowed to blunder in and arrest the father without adequate arrangements being put in place to support the children.”
The Do-Gooders were nodding vigorously. Pitman held his tongue over yet another demotion. It was pointless trying to explain. Maybe he should have styled himself Senior Police Officer instead.
Kidger was talking again. “A Safety Order for the children must be our first priority, of course, to minimize the inevitable trauma and stress to the children.” She looked at her watch. “Well, time is getting on, so I suggest we make emergency preparations after lunch, and rescue the children first thing tomorrow morning. Is everyone agreed?”
Pitman was stunned. “Why not go in now, if these children are in such grave danger as Miss Reynolds here implies?”
“But the children!” Kidger was aghast. “I’m sorry, Sergeant, that’s quite out of the question.”
Pitman took a deep breath before answering. “If this information is correct we are talking about one of the most dangerous men in the country. Dr Reynolds, if you could just give me an address for this man...”
Kidger was almost on her feet. “She will do no such thing. These children could be scarred for life if some bumbling policeman just blunders in and arrest their father.”
“This man is a violent criminal. Your namby-pamby Do-Gooder procedures can take a running jump, Miss Kidger. I‘m bringing this man in, right now.”
The donkeys gasped. This was a Senior Social Worker he was talking to!
Kidger glared at him. “I’m sure Commander Walker will see my point of view, Sergeant. Cedric and I go back a long way.”
It was too much for Pitman. He pocketed his notebook and made for the door. “I don’t care how far you go back, Miss Kidger. I have a duty to protect the public. Don’t worry about the address, Miss Reynolds. I’ll find him without you. Though I should point out it is a criminal offence to obstruct an officer in the course of an investigation.”
144
Pitman was still fuming when he got to Jay Street, barging into Weisman’s office. The captain was on the phone. He gestured for Pitman to take a seat. Pitman stood.
“He’s just this second walked in, Vera. Yes, I’ll explain everything. Just make sure all the paper-work is ready. The Commander has given me four officers to be with you first thing. I’ll speak to you again tomorrow, once he’s in custody.”
He put the phone down. Pitman collapsed into the chair, visibly deflated.
“Supposing he kills another child tonight? While your Do-Gooder friends are catching up on their paper-work.”
“David, you’re over-reacting. Think it through. We can’t risk getting this wrong. The Commander is backing me all the way.”
“Do you seriously think it will be Cedric taking the blame if another child gets hurt?”
“I’ll have full surveillance, within the hour. Randall won’t be able to break wind without our men knowing it.”
“What about his own kids? He’s got two daughters.”
“Vera seemed comfortable with that. Apparently the psychotherapist who provided the lead has given her assurance the children will be fine tonight.”
“And she would know that how, exactly?”
“David, I don’t profess to understand how they come to their conclusions, so let’s just leave it at that, shall we? I’ve agreed to furnish Vera with four officers first thing tomorrow morning. I thought perhaps you’d like to go along?”
“And spend another minute in the company of social workers? I’d rather cut off my own... No, thank you, Sir. I’ll wait until he’s in custody. What time are we looking at?”
“Zero-seven-hundred hours..”
“The classic dawn raid? Dragging the kids screaming from their beds? I thought those kind of Gestapo tactics had been outlawed.”
Weisman shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “As I say, David, the Commander has agreed to all this. I suggest we use our time productively.”
“Sir?”
“Preparing for Randall. We can hold him a short while on suspicion of abusing his own kids. Vera has agreed to have them examined immediately, the moment they are in care. But we have nothing as yet to link him with the Meadows child. We then need to broach the White Plains case. They’ll be demanding his transfer the minute they hear we’ve got him. Obviously they don’t need to know anything until we question him on White Plains, but then the clock is ticking.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I want kid gloves on this one, David. Kid gloves. I want a full ME report as soon as Randall is brought in, and another when he leaves for the White Plains. We don’t want a repeat of the Bristow affair.”
145
He turned down the heat under the eggs, pulled the robe’s cord tight around his waist and scanned the room, wishing he’d tidied the paperwork from the night before. As he glanced at the clock he consoled himself with the certain knowledge that only the postman would be knocking so early.
As he opened the door two male uniformed officers were to the fore, three civilians behind. Two female officers brought up the rear. He knew instinctively why they were there.
“Gregory Alan Randall?
He tried to reply but no words came.
“Gregory Alan Randall, we have a warrant for your arrest on suspicion of indecency with children.” As he recited the caution, the officer took Randall’s arm and in a slick movement cuffed his left wrist. Before he had time to react the second officer moved forward and secured his other arm.
It was the moment he had silently feared for months now, the recurring nightmare brought to life just as he had imagined it. “But I’m being treated,” was the only response he could manage, his voice dispirited. Beaten. “This can’t be right. Everything was in hand.”
Elizabeth’s voice drifted down from upstairs. “Greg, who is it?”
“It’s okay love. It’s nothing.” He looked at the officers, eyes pleading them not to announce their presence to his wife.
“Where are the children?”
Randall’s face whitened. “They’re asleep. Don’t bring them into this, for God’s sake. I’ve never touched them. I had it all under control. Please...”
“They’re all yours.” The officer pushed Randall through into the living room. The three civilians barged past unannounced, heading upstairs, the female officers running to keep up.
“No! Not the Twins. Please! Oh God, no...” He tried to step forward but the officer pushed him unceremoniously onto the sofa, almost knocking over the Christmas Tree. A cascade of pine needles showered the presents piled around the base. He heard shouts as Elizabeth emerged from the shower, confronting the intruders on the landing.
“Who the hell are you? Greg? What’s going on?”
The intruder waived a document in her face. “Michael O’Shea, Senior Social Worker, Social Services. I have a care order for Tamara and Natalie Randall authorizing us to –”
“Over my dead body. Greg? Where’s my husband?” Elizabeth stood herself firm across the landing.
O’Shea motioned for his two colleagues to stand aside and the two female officers stepped forward to confront the mother.
“Mrs Randall, we’re here to enforce the care order. Where are the children?”
“Care order? The Twins? This is crazy. You lay one finger on my girls and you’ll be carried out of here.” Standing across the landing, hair dripping wet, eyes blazing, the officers hesitated, uncertain how to proceed.
“Where’s my husband? Where’s Greg?”
“He’s downstairs. Under arrest.”
“Arrest?” Elizabeth clutched the door handle for support. “My God, what’s going on? For God’s sake, what’s happening?”
“Mrs Ran
dall, this must be difficult for you. The care order is a temporary measure, to protect the children, Natalie and Tamara.”
Elizabeth’s voice raised to a scream. “I don’t know what’s going on but I’m warning you. Stay away from my daughters. Do you hear me? Stay away!”
Tamara’s frightened face appeared in the doorway. “Mommy? What’s happening?”
Instinctively mother turned to her daughter. As she did so the two officers moved on her, pinning her against the wall while the social workers moved with lightning speed into the bedroom. Elizabeth lunged, but the officers restrained her. In the room behind her Tamara screamed as a social worker grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the door. The second social worker grabbed Natalie as she stirred in her bed, lifting her unceremoniously, carrying her to the doorway screaming.
She saw her mother struggling against the officers and cried out to her, tiny arms stretching out futilely. Randall was shouting downstairs, his words inaudible above the screams of the terrified children. Along the street lights came in, curtains opened.
146
“Natalie!” Elizabeth screamed out after her daughter.
“Leave her alone, you bastards!” The officers struggled to hold her. “Natalie, don’t worry. Mommy’s here. Where are you taking them? We love those children! For God’s sake, somebody tell me I’m dreaming!”
As she struggled, her towel fell to the floor.
O’Shea leered.
The first social worker tried to move past, dragging Tamara by the arm. The child was sobbing, in shock. When she saw her mother being restrained by the uniformed officers she screamed hysterically Natalie screamed even louder. Elizabeth screamed back, struggling to reach them.
O’Shea motioned to the stairs and the first social worker dragged the terrified six year old by one arm, no effort made to comfort the child as tiny fingers clutched in futile desperation at the banister rails.
The second social worker held the screaming Natalie secured inside a blanket, kicking her legs, her arms restrained.
As she descended the stairs the officers stepped back to guard the stair-well, shaken and embarrassed.
For a few seconds Elizabeth stared after them, dazed, bewildered, before rushing to the bedroom, screaming out of the window after her daughters. Through the swirling early morning mist she could hear their cries, but barely see them. Then the sound of car doors slamming and the screams stifled.
She stared out of the window in disbelief as the vehicle vanished into the fog, sobbing uncontrollably.
Behind her one of the officers was holding out a robe. “Mrs Randall, you’d best put this on.”
Elizabeth reluctantly took the gown and slipped it around herself. In shock she sat down on the end of the bed, her body shaking, unable to take in what had happened. The second officer appeared in the doorway.
“We need some clothes for your husband.”
She didn’t wait for a reply but walked to the closet and began rifling through the hangers, selecting pants and a shirt.
“Where’s Greg?”
“He’s downstairs. He’s to be taken to the station, for further questioning.”
“For what? He hasn’t done anything.”
“Where will I find your husband’s socks and underwear?”
Elizabeth gestured to a chest-of-drawers in the corner, shaking her head in disbelief.
First her children, now her husband.
It was just too much to comprehend.
“I need to talk to Greg.”
“I’m sorry, not at this stage.”
“But... I don’t understand.”
“Mrs Randall, your husband is under arrest. On suspicion of indecency with children.”
“Indecency? Children? No way! Not Greg! There’s been a mistake. Greg would never...” The enormity of the allegation slowly dawned.
“You don’t mean the Twins? No! No way! That’s ridiculous! He wouldn’t, no. That’s...” Her protest gave way to distress.
The officer sat beside her, a comforting arm around her shoulder.
Her colleague rifled the drawers, the clothes from the closet across her arm. She turned to Elizabeth, five pairs of panties in her hand.
“Is it usual for your husband to keep your daughters’ underwear in his drawer? Their dirty underwear?”
Elizabeth looked up. “Their what?” She looked at the items on display, trying to think why they might be there. The Twins had their own clothes drawers in their room. “They must have got mixed up with his...” Her voice trailed.
She looked again, a second time.
Slowly, shaking her head in disbelief. “Oh God. Oh God, no.”
“Mrs Randall? What is it?”
“They don’t belong to the Twins. I’ve never seen them before.”
Her whole body shook, her voice rising, hysterical.
“You put them there! You planted them! You bastards! Why are you doing this? Greg wouldn’t! He would never...”
Downstairs they could hear Randall protesting his innocence as he dressed.
The voice was flat, lifeless, convincing no-one.
As he was led to the front door he shouted up the stairs.
“Elizabeth, are you okay? I would never hurt the Twins, Elizabeth. Believe me. I love them both! I love you! Please, you must believe me.”
She tried to respond, but the words would not come.
She wanted to believe him.
She desperately wanted to believe him.
But as she watched the officer lay the soiled girls’ panties on the bed, all she could do was cry.
147
The Dynamite Twins clung to each other, sucking their thumbs, wide, raw, frightened eyes watching everyone with suspicion.
Sat on the sofa in their night clothes, wrapped in blankets, their tear-stained faces and hair tangled, The caseworker collected her notepad and joined them on the sofa. The twins backed away, distrusting, frightened.
“Hello, I'm Miss Bamford. Now, which one of you is Tamara and which one is Natalie?” She smiled. “My, you really are identical, aren't you!”
Tearful eyes watched her every move.
“That's okay. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'll just have to guess. Hmmm, let me see. You're Tamara and you're Natalie, right?”
Her smile was fooling no-one. The twins stared at her, saying nothing.
“Come on girls, no-one's going to hurt you. We just need to have a little chat, then you can go back to your mommy.”
The twins just stared at her.
“Isn't that what you want? Don't you want to see Mommy again?”
No reply.
“Are you hungry? Would you like some breakfast? Frosted flakes? Rice Krispies? Froot-Loops? Or a banana?”
No reply.
Irately, “You're not helping by playing these silly games, you know.” She stopped herself. The sweet voice switched back on. “Look, I'll tell you what we'll do. I'll go and get some cereals and bring them in for you. You'll feel better once you've had something to eat. When I come back you can tell me all about your favorite toys and what sweets you like. And then I expect mommy will be ready to come and take you home. How does that sound?”
The twins returned her gaze, saying nothing.
She returned a few minutes later bearing a tray with two bowls of Frosted Flakes, a jug of milk, sugar and two spoons. She put the tray on the floor by the sofa, beaming the same smile. “There we are. Breakfast. Now, I need a coffee, so I'll leave you two alone together. Okay?”
Bamford timed her next question carefully, waiting till she was half out of the door. “Would you like me to bring some candy back with me? M&Ms? Twizzlers? A Hershey bar?”
For a second there was no response.
Bamford slowly began pulling the door closed.
Realizing it was their last chance, Tamara nodded. Natalie copied her.
Bamford beamed at them and pulled the door closed.
Round one to Bamford.
148
“Mr Randall has been offered, but has declined, the opportunity to avail himself of an attorney,” Pitman said to the camera. “Would you confirm that for the audio please, Mr Randall?”
“I don't need an attorney. I've done nothing wrong.”
“As you wish, Mr Randall. Now, acting on information received, your two daughters, Natalie and Tamara, have been placed in the temporary care of the local authority Social Services department. There is reason to believe the children may have been subject to sexual abuse. They will be examined by a pediatric doctor with expertise in this field. Is there anything you'd like to tell us at this stage?”
“I've never touched them. They're my daughters. I love them like any father would.”
Pitman nodded to Lovett to take the lead.
“Greg, I should warn you we have officers have been searching your house since your arrest. Would you like to tell us if they might have found anything?”
“Like what?”
“Well, it's your home. Will they find anything indecent? For example, indecent images of children? Your children? Other people's children?”
Randall thought of the last therapy session at the Foundation. “Definitely not.”
“You're sure about that?”
“Absolutely.”
“Anything that might be interpreted as indecent? Photographs of your children in the bath, for instance. Things that might be quite innocent to you, but may not appear so to other people.”
“No. You read about things like that in the papers. Parents sending their snapshots off and getting arrested. I'm very careful about things like that.”
“Careful, Greg? Why's that?”
“I just am, okay?”
“Our officers found some DVDs,” Lovett said. “Is there anything you'd like to tell us about them?”
“They're just DVDs.”
“Anything indecent on them?”
“No.”
“They will be viewed.”
“So watch the fucking things. I've told you there's nothing on them. Just films.”
“We couldn't find a computer at your home, Mr Randall,” Pitman put in. “Where is it?”
Sugar & Spice (US edition) Page 28
