Doing the Best I Can_A Manchester Crime Story featuring DSI Jeff Barton

by David Menon

  ‘Are you calling my professional judgment into account here, sir?’

  ‘I the bloody cap fits as they say’ said Hermitage. ‘DS Masters is now on your team and he made a serious error of judgement regarding Karina Kowalewski. I will not let another compromise of that kind happen again’.

  Barton looked across the corridor into Maggie O’Hagan’s office. She was sitting at her desk above which a calendar of the actor Hugh Jackman was pinned to her wall. She was keeping her head well down. Barton and Maggie had known each other for years and there was no way she’d stab him in the back even if her arm had been twisted.

  ‘Why haven’t you brought Scott Delaney in, Barton?’ Hermitage demanded.

  ‘Oh haven’t you heard, sir? He’s downstairs in the interview room waiting to be questioned by myself and DCI Wright’.

  Judging by the look on Hermitage’s face, Barton wouldn’t like to be the one who hadn’t told him that Delaney was on the premises before he’d come charging in.

  ‘Let’s get to the point, sir’ said Barton who was already tired of Hermitage’s presence. ‘Despite what may or may not have happened with the Karina Kowalewski case, the murder of Stacey Donaldson is a new one and I’m not bringing any baggage with me. If Delaney proves to be guilty then I’ll charge him’.

  ‘And just like with Karina Kowalewski you’re casting doubt on what should be an open and shut case!’.

  ‘No, sir, what I’m doing is my job as a detective which is to investigate the facts and then make a judgment. And with all due respect this conversation we’re having is obstructing progress on this case and I’m sure you don’t want that. Sir?’

  ‘I’ll be watching you, Barton’.

  ‘I wouldn’t have expected anything less, sir’.

  Barton watched the fat bastard stride through the station like he personally owned it and wondered how the fuck he was going to restrain himself from killing him.

  ‘So’ said Barton as he began the interview with Scott Delaney. Sitting beside him was DCI Wright but Delaney had waved the right to legal representation on the grounds that he’d done nothing. He was still in his expensive looking suit although he’d loosened his tie and undone the top couple of buttons on his shirt. Barton could clearly see the sweat that was staining his shirt and with his slightly lowered head he was staring into space as if he could find something in the whole heap of nothing that was immediately in front of him. He looked like he was in shock. He’d been crying. He hadn’t expected things to end like this.

  ‘Scott, did you kill Karina Kowalewski?’ Barton opened.

  ‘No!’

  ‘And did you kill your fiancé Stacey Donaldson?’

  ‘No’ Delaney answered emphatically. ‘How could I do that to Stacey or any other girl for that matter?’

  ‘That’s what they all say when they come in front of us, Scott. Especially when it looks like we’ve got a serial killer on our hands’.

  ‘I didn’t do it I tell you!’

  ‘Well if you can prove that to us then you’ve got nothing to worry about’ said Barton.

  Delaney then started crying again and buried his face in his hands before rearing his head back up and wiping his face with the back of his hands. ‘I can’t believe … I would never have wanted this to happen to poor Stacey. She must’ve been bloody terrified’.

  ‘When was the last time you saw Stacey, Scott?’

  ‘It was the night before last’ Delaney answered in a whimpering voice and wiping away more tears. ‘We had a flaming row after I told her about Gina’.

  ‘Oh, your secretary, sorry personal assistant, who you were planning to run off with?’

  ‘Look, it wasn’t as sordid as you make it sound’

  ‘You were cheating on your fiancé. You tell me what that is’

  ‘But Stacey and me had come to the end of the road a long time ago’ said Delaney, pleadingly. ‘But she wouldn’t accept it. She kept begging me to give her one more chance but to be honest I’d forgotten what had possessed me to ask her to move in with me in the first place, let alone get engaged’.

  ‘So why did you?’

  ‘I think I felt sorry for her’.

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘You’ve met her parents, Detective’.

  ‘I’ve met her father, yes’.

  ‘You barely tipped the bloody iceberg’ said Delaney. ‘That family hold more secrets than the CIA’.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ asked Barton.

  Delaney looked really nervous now. ‘It was all so fucking weird’.

  ‘What was?’

  Delaney blinked nervously. ‘It all started with our sex life. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not a prude in any way shape or form but only when it involves two consenting adults’.

  ‘Scott, could you get to the point, please?’

  ‘Where I draw the line and where any normal person should draw the line is when sex involves children. It was only their own. They’re not marauding paedophiles grooming all the vulnerable kids out there. But their daughters would be brought into providing fun for the adults’.

  ‘Are you alleging that Stacey was sexually abused by her father?’

  ‘Look, it all started to go wrong between us when she told me that whenever we made out she was thinking about her father. And if that wasn’t twisted enough she went on to tell me that it wasn’t because her father had sexually abused her. It was because he hadn’t. He’d done it to her sister but for some reason he’d never done it to her’.

  ‘Do you know where her sister lives?’ Barton questioned.

  ‘She’s hidden’

  ‘What do you mean by hidden?’

  ‘She wasn’t quite the full shilling apparently which is why she was hidden away like some blot on the family landscape. She lives in sheltered accommodation up in Lytham on the Fylde coast. Stacey was the only one who kept in touch with her because she was the only one in that family with even a sense of what compassion is. Do you understand what I’m talking about here, detective? I’m talking about a father who doesn’t want to be associated with his backward daughter in public but who was quite happy to groom her for himself and his perverted friends. Is he a sick bastard or what?’

  ‘Scott, how old is this older, hidden sister?’

  ‘I don’t know for sure but Stacey indicated that she was a fair bit older than her. She said that her mother had a couple of miscarriages between the older one and her. I’d say they had a lucky escape’.

  ‘Scott, these are pretty serious allegations you’re making against a highly distinguished lawyer’ said Barton. ‘You’d better be able to back this up’.

  ‘I’ll make the necessary statement, Detective. I’ll tell you everything I’ve told you already and more’.

  ‘And stand up in court too if it comes to that?’

  ‘They’ve got to be stopped from using other people to hide their crimes behind’.

  Something about what Scott said lodged something in Barton’s brain that he couldn’t fathom but knew he would end up going back to at some point. But now wasn’t the time. He knew that much. He was also wondering why the family had kept this hidden daughter up in Lytham. Why hadn’t they moved her to a different part of the country altogether? It’s like they kept her so near and yet so far. But why was that? So that they could keep just enough of an eye on her to stop her from talking?

  ‘Scott, why did they take against you? I mean, on paper you’d be a perfect match for their daughter. You run your own successful business and you’re not an ugly dude. How come they would be prepared to see you go down for a murder you didn’t commit?’

  ‘Because I confronted them with what Stacey had told me. They said I couldn’t prove anything which of course I couldn’t. But the damage was done then and they wanted me out of the way. I half expected to be crossing the street one night and a car come speeding up heading straight for me. But that’s not what they’re about. If I was in prison then they’d know I was suffering
and they’d break out the champagne for that. That’s what kind of people they are. They don’t pay debts with money. I’d stood up to them and I was encouraging Stacey to do so as well for the first time in her life. The business trip to Berlin that I was going on today? It was more than that. Gina was coming with me so that she could look for an apartment for us whilst I attended meetings to transfer my business to Berlin. Then we were going to move over there’.

  ‘Scott, could we just go over the details of what happened when you had your row with Stacey the night before last?’ asked DCI Wright. He was anxious to fill the gap after the momentous revelations of the last few minutes.

  ‘I threw some things into a suitcase and left’ said Delaney. ‘I went straight round to Gina’s place. She can verify that’.

  ‘I’m sure she’d say anything now she’s got her hands on what she wants’.

  ‘It’s the bloody truth, I tell you! And don’t talk about Gina like that. She’s a normal woman from a normal family who haven’t screwed her up’

  ‘Alright, Scott, alright, calm down’.

  ‘Well how would you like it? I had sex with a girl down a back alley and she ends up dead and I’m

  the prime suspect. Then the same bloody thing happens to my fiancé after I’ve told her that it’s off, that I’m with someone else now’.

  ‘Did you know Stacey was pregnant?’ asked Barton.

  Scott looked down at the floor. ‘Yes’ he answered. ‘She told me last week’.

  ‘And what did you say to that?’

  ‘That I thought she was on the pill and that anyway it wouldn’t make any difference. I said that it didn’t change anything as far as my feelings for her were concerned and that I’d prefer it if she had an abortion. I felt bad leaving her like that but I just couldn’t go on living with someone who’d been so bloody screwed up. I tried and tried to get her to seek help and see a therapist but she just wouldn’t listen. And when it came down to it I just didn’t love her anymore. It was as simple as that. I love Gina. I have done since long before I admitted it even to myself. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me in every way’.

  ‘I daresay Stacey took that bit pretty badly’ said Wright.

  ‘Well that’s when the row we had on that last night turn pretty ugly’ Delaney confessed. ‘She started throwing stuff around like pots and pans from the kitchen. I was lucky not to get hit by one. She’d turned violent towards me before but this time I managed to get out unscathed and made it over to Gina’s place. I decided to put some distance between Stacey and myself until she’d had time to calm down. She tried to call me two or three times an hour the next day but I didn’t answer. She didn’t know where Gina lived so I didn’t go into the office that day and that way she wouldn’t be able to track me down. I know she must’ve really been going through it but I had nothing left to give her. But now I’ll wish to my dying day that I’d picked up one of her calls because if I’d met her somewhere it might’ve prevented what happened’.

  ‘We can probably all point back to a time when if we’d done or said something it might’ve averted some kind of disaster’ said Wright, trying to get a little on side with Delaney to make him feel more comfortable to talk. ‘In any case, you had a positive plan for your own emotional future. Poor Stacey had nothing to look forward to except single parenthood and that must’ve affected her’.

  ‘Her parents would never have accepted that’ said Delaney. ‘It wouldn’t have fitted in with the church going moral code they like to display to the rest of the world. They’d have hidden her away somewhere and then made her give it away for adoption. I’d have had no say in the matter whatsoever’.

  ‘Scott, you implied moments ago that Stacey could have a violent side?’ said Wright. ‘Are you saying that you were the victim of domestic violence at her hands?’

  Scott leaned his head back and then came forward again. ‘It’s always hard for a man to admit this kind of thing but yes, she broke my nose by smashing a frying pan into my face once. She burned a cigarette out on my upper arm another time. Should I go on?’

  ‘Did you do anything to provoke such extreme reactions from Stacey?’

  ‘Would you have asked that of a female victim of domestic violence?’

  ‘No’ said Wright. ‘Point taken’.

  ‘Stacey had a temper’ said Delaney as the tears began to roll down his cheeks again. ‘I’ve seen her throw things at the wall out of sheer frustration and, like I’ve already said, sometimes she turned her fire on me’. He started shaking his head. ‘But for her life to end in the way it did. I can’t bear to think of her being … being tortured by some monster. I’m not capable of doing such evil things to someone and I would never protect anyone who is. Stacey’s murder is nothing to do with me, Detectives. You’ve got to believe me’.

  Later that afternoon Chief Constable Ronald Hermitage called an impromptu press conference on the steps of the police station. Barton had neither been told or invited and he was furious that he had to watch from the window of the squad room. Hermitage was humiliating him and the stakes went a long way further than just having slept with someone’s wife. There was a killer on the loose and whilst Hermitage was playing his ego games of retaliation that killer may be planning his next murder.

  Because Barton had come to the same conclusion as DS Ben Masters which was that Scott Delaney was not their killer.

  Hermitage announced to the gathering of correspondents that the Greater Manchester force were questioning a suspect in relation to the murders of Karina Kowalewski and Stacey Donaldson and expected to charge him shortly. He praised the work of his officers, particularly DSI Jeff Barton, who’d worked so tirelessly to bring the killer to justice and make the women of Manchester feel safe again. Barton was incandescent with rage. The bloody son of a bitch was trying to bounce him into charging Scott Delaney. But then he stopped to think for a minute. Barton could be just as devious as Hermitage when it came to it. Perhaps this was time to make Hermitage see that once and for all.

  ‘I don’t believe this’ said DCI Ollie Wright. ‘He’s deliberately boxing us into a corner’.

  ‘Well that’s certainly his intention, yes’ said Barton as an idea began to shape through the red haze of his anger and the more he saw it the more he liked it.

  ‘So what do we do with Scott Delaney now, sir? He’s still sitting downstairs and we have no evidence to charge him not even circumstantial’

  ‘Well a lack of evidence has never stopped the likes of Hermitage from sending an innocent man to prison, Ollie’ said Barton. ‘I had thought we were beginning to see the back of that tribe who gave the rest of us a bad name but it seems I was wrong and those of us who joined the force so that only the guilty would go down have to challenge them’.

  ‘I couldn’t agree more, sir’ said Wright. ‘But our more immediate problem is still what are we going to do with Delaney’.

  ‘Release him’ said Ben, smirking.

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘We don’t believe he’s guilty of murder so let’s release him’ said Barton.

  ‘Sir, Chief Constable Hermitage will go mad’.

  ‘Hopefully’.

  ‘With all due respect I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes when he finds out’.

  ‘DCI Wright, are you up for this challenge or not?’

  ‘Oh I’m up for it, sir’ Ollie answered. He was slightly taken aback. The boss had ever questioned his commitment to him before. ‘You know I would’ve walked away if I wasn’t’.

  ‘Then let’s go and release Delaney and then we’ll all go home early for a change’.

  SIX

  Callum drove straight past the exit he needed from the M60 without even realising it. That’s until his best friend Rosie Franklin who was sitting beside him in the passenger seat of his two-door silver coloured Mazda took a break from putting on her make-up and talking ninety to the dozen to ask where they were.

  ‘We’ve past the exits for Bolton and for Bur
y’ Callum revealed. ‘It was your fault for distracting me’.

  ‘Well you’ll just have to come off and turn back round’ said Rosie, matter-of-factly. ‘Aren’t they expecting us at a certain time?’

  Rosie absolutely hated turning up late for anything. Despite what Callum might say she didn’t like making a grand entrance and she’d much rather just slide into an event without being seen by anyone until she’d had at least two glasses of wine. She didn’t like being the centre of attention. She didn’t really like going to social events at all. The last time she went to a party she got so drunk before she got there that she ended up falling through a semi open door inside the house and dousing her glass of red wine all over the white dress of the girl who was having the party. Funny how she’d never been invited back by the stuck- up cow. Must have been something to do with the fact that she’d told her that it was her own fault for being dumb enough to wear a white dress to a party and had she got all her furnishings from the bargain basement of a closing down store.

  ‘It’s a barbecue, Rosie’ answered Callum. ‘People will be coming and going all afternoon. There’s no actual set time for people to get there’.

  ‘That’s why I hate bloody barbecues. You have to paint on the smile and shake hands and say how pleased you are to see people time and time and time again. Anyway, how did you miss the exit? I mean, you who spends all his working day driving all over the city for work managed to miss the turnoff to get to your cousin’s barbecue?’

  ‘Why do I just know that you’re never going to let me forget this for the next two thousand years?’

  ‘Two thousand years? Have I got to suffer you for that long? God, I must’ve been bad in a past life’.

  ‘You’re very lucky that I’m friends with you’.

  ‘In that case I really must’ve been bad in a past life’ said Rosie.

  ‘And I suppose you’ll never stop mentioning it to everyone there this afternoon’.