Beyond the Point

by Damien Boyd

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Get ready to move too. We’re setting up an Incident Room back at Hinkley. We can use the beat team office this time.’

  ‘They won’t like that,’ muttered Pearce.

  ‘Tough.’

  ‘Where will you be, Sir?’ asked Louise.

  ‘Watching Chard’s interview. DCI Lewis is going to be holding my hand, apparently.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘God knows.’

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ said Lewis when Dixon stepped out of the lift on the lower ground floor. ‘He’s in interview room four with his brief. Potter’s on her way down.’ He opened the door behind him. ‘We’re in here.’

  Dixon sat down in front of the monitor, a frown etched across his forehead. Chard was visible, sitting next to his solicitor, the seats opposite them still empty. Chard was staring at the table in front of him, aware of the cameras and keen to avoid them.

  ‘Dixon, you’re here,’ said Potter, shutting the door behind her. ‘We’ll be going in shortly. I just wanted to remind you that it’s being taken care of.’

  ‘What is, Ma’am?’

  ‘Chard. You’re a professional, so I expect you to behave like one.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Just watch the interview. And stay calm.’

  Dixon folded his arms and leaned against the table behind him. He glanced up at Lewis, standing with his back to the door like a nightclub bouncer.

  ‘Detective Chief Inspector Simon Chard.’

  Dixon turned back to the monitor. It was comforting to be watching in black and white; all the best films were in black and white.

  ‘My name is Superintendent James of Professional Standards and sitting to my right is Detective Chief Superintendent Potter, whom you know. This interview is being recorded and you remain under caution. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes.’ Chard’s arms were folded tightly across his chest, pulling the knot of his tie.

  ‘You have a solicitor present. Please identify yourself for the tape.’

  ‘Rebecca Parkman of Boyce Allen and Co.’

  ‘Simon, you’ve been arrested on suspicion of perverting the course of justice and this is your chance to tell us what happened.’

  ‘You know what happened.’

  ‘I want you to tell me,’ replied James. ‘Start by telling me when and how you met Stella Hayward.’

  ‘It was at the Christmas party. One of them anyway. We’d met before that in the canteen at Portishead. It was just flirting, really.’

  ‘Who initiated the relationship?’

  ‘She did.’

  ‘And it was sexual?’

  Chard nodded.

  ‘You know the drill, Simon. For the tape, please.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How often did you see her?’

  ‘A couple of times a week. It was always at her place in Yatton. My wife can’t know about this.’

  ‘That’s out of my hands,’ replied James, looking back down at his notes. ‘When did she tell you who she was?’

  ‘Easter time, maybe. I’d heard of the Crook case, of course I had, but I never realised it was her.’

  ‘What was your relationship like at that time?’

  ‘It was getting serious. I was even thinking of telling my wife, but hadn’t got round to it.’

  ‘And what happened?’

  ‘She asked me if I could get her access to the old file. I said no, at first, but she was very persuasive.’

  Potter was fidgeting in her seat, Dixon could see that on the monitor.

  ‘And did you?’ asked James.

  ‘In the end. I got it out of the archive and took it to her place. Just overnight so she could have a look. I thought, what harm could it do?’

  ‘I think we know the answer to that one now, Simon.’

  No reply.

  ‘Why didn’t you take it back the next day?’ continued James.

  ‘I was going to. I just never got round to it, that’s all.’

  ‘So you kept it at home?’

  ‘In a filing cabinet.’ Chard sighed. ‘And now you’ve got it.’

  ‘What did she find on the file?’

  ‘I don’t know, I never looked at it myself. And I hardly saw her after that. She’d got what she wanted and dropped me like a stone. I didn’t think anything of it; decided I was well out of it, to be honest, before my wife found out. Then I saw in the call logs that she hadn’t turned up for work and they wanted a welfare check. I got there just as uniform turned up.’

  James waited.

  ‘Look, I’m not proud of what I did. Twenty-nine years. Twenty-nine fucking years and there was no way I was getting drummed out because of this. And besides, what were the chances it had anything to do with her disappearance? It was a load of bollocks.’

  ‘So, you doctored the statements?’

  Chard looked up at the ceiling. His solicitor leaned across and whispered in his ear. ‘No, I’m not . . .’ He turned back to Superintendent James. ‘Yes, I did. Just to remove the . . .’ His voice tailed off.

  ‘Just to remove what?’

  ‘Reference to me and the past. It was a good investigation apart from that. We made extensive proof of life enquiries. Interviewed everyone, I just edited out reference to me or anything that might lead back to me. It was hardly relevant, was it?’

  Dixon sneered. Talk about digging yourself a hole.

  ‘You edited out reference to the Severn Crossing strand of enquiry, which now appears to have been the motive, Simon.’

  ‘It wasn’t at the time. That only came to light when Amy was killed, and by then it was too late. Then that tosser Dixon turns up . . .’

  ‘Tell us about your interview with her daughter, Amy.’

  ‘She didn’t know who I was. We’d never met. So it was just a routine witness interview. She said her mother had got access to the prosecution file and found some new evidence. And, yes, I changed her statement to take that bit out.’

  ‘Why didn’t they go to the police when they found this new evidence?’

  ‘They didn’t trust us. Amy said her mother wanted to try to find out more about the people identified, then they’d hand it all over to their solicitor.’

  ‘And Amy didn’t say what this new evidence was?’

  ‘No, and I didn’t ask.’

  James glanced across at Potter, who was shuffling the papers on the table in front of her.

  ‘Simon,’ she said, looking up. ‘You’ve been arrested on suspicion of perverting the course of justice, but we’re also investigating other matters and have a number of things we wish to put to you, which may or may not result in additional charges.’

  ‘What other matters?’ asked his solicitor.

  ‘You weren’t involved in the hunt for Steiner, Simon,’ said Potter, turning back to Chard. ‘So you could not have known that he made veiled threats against Detective Inspector Dixon. As a consequence of those threats, Dixon vacated his home in Brent Knoll and we placed it under round the clock surveillance. Even he didn’t know that.’

  Dixon spun round and glared at Lewis, still standing with his back to the door.

  Potter opened the file in front of her, slid out a photograph and handed it to Chard. ‘This is a photograph taken by Detective Sergeant Black from the upstairs window of the Red Cow public house in Brent Knoll, opposite Dixon’s cottage. Can you identify for me, please, the car seen parked outside the cottage?’

  Chard hesitated.

  ‘It’s your car, isn’t it, Simon?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘When was it taken, for the tape, please? Look at the time stamp.’

  ‘The day before yesterday at 1.32 p.m.’

  ‘And in this photograph,’ said Potter, sliding another across the table, ‘a figure can be seen walking down the side of the cottage. Can you identify that person for me, please?’

  Chard glanced up at the camera and smirked. ‘It’s me.’

>   ‘What is that in your right hand?’ asked Potter.

  ‘A bottle of antifreeze.’

  ‘This bottle?’ asked Potter, sliding a third photograph across the table. ‘This bottle was recovered from your car.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What did you do behind the cottage?’

  ‘Him and his fucking dog,’ sneered Chard. ‘I’ve been on the job since before he was born and—’

  ‘I’d like to take a break at this point,’ interrupted his solicitor. ‘There are various matters I’d like to discuss with my client in private.’

  Dixon spun round, his face flushed, nostrils flaring. ‘You knew?’

  ‘Potter warned me yesterday. I’m just here to see you don’t do anything stupid.’

  ‘In the light of your admission, Simon,’ said Potter, ‘you will face additional charges of criminal damage and administering a poison contrary to section 8(b) of the Animals Act 1911. Is that clear?’

  Dixon turned back to the screen, watching Chard crumple before his eyes.

  ‘Look, I . . .’ Chard wiped his cheeks with his sleeves, his body rocking backwards and forwards in his chair.

  ‘I’d go no comment, if I were you,’ said Dixon.

  ‘No comment,’ mumbled Chard.

  ‘Maybe I’ll visit him in prison.’ Dixon switched off the monitor. ‘Sooner, if Monty dies.’

  Twat.

  ‘You had my place under surveillance?’

  Potter was rubbing the back of her neck. She glanced at Lewis.

  ‘He’s fine,’ he said.

  ‘We thought there was a chance Steiner might turn up there. He made a point of letting you know he knew where you lived.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Only we got more than we bargained for.’

  Dixon shook his head. ‘I knew he had it in for me, but poisoning my bloody dog?’

  ‘He was jealous,’ said Lewis.

  ‘It’s just a shame we didn’t appreciate the significance before the damage was done,’ said Potter. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘You couldn’t have known.’

  ‘How is he?’

  ‘He’ll be at the vet now,’ replied Dixon, looking at his watch. ‘He’s having more blood tests. Jane’s been feeding him through a syringe every four hours to keep him going.’

  ‘She’s a star, that girl,’ said Potter, smiling.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I’ve looked at the prosecution file from 1995.’ Potter grimaced. ‘The index refers to a bundle of statements not disclosed to the defence, but it’s missing. It looks like she kept it and Chard didn’t notice.’

  ‘Dozy pillock was too busy getting his leg over.’ Lewis perched on the corner of the table and folded his arms.

  ‘And all of the documents had been cleared out of her place, hadn’t they?’ asked Potter, shooting a sideways glance at Lewis.

  Dixon nodded. ‘What about the Health and Safety Executive file?’ he asked.

  ‘Missing.’

  ‘Well, that’s that then,’ muttered Lewis.

  ‘Not necessarily. Stella’s neighbour told me she saw Amy leaving the house with a blue carrier bag. This was after Stella disappeared and the bag was flat, not bulging, which tends to suggest it was papers rather than anything else. It could be the missing statements.’

  ‘You’d better find it, Nick,’ said Potter. ‘Otherwise we’re back to square one. We don’t really know any more than Stella did at the moment.’

  ‘Yes, we do. We know there’s something out there to be found and someone prepared to kill to keep it hidden. The tragedy is they both had to die for it.’

  ‘Chard’s going to be charged and then released on bail later today. You won’t do anything stupid, will you?’

  ‘He won’t,’ said Lewis.

  Bloods show kidney function still within normal range. Tabi thinks we’re winning! Getting the hang of the syringe too. Home to feed him now. Jx

  The text arrived while Dixon was standing in the queue to sign in at Hinkley Point. Thirty or so babbling teenagers in front of him, all of them wearing police uniform; it could only be the police cadets on a guided tour of the site. The beat team sergeant, Martha Sparks, was there too, meeting the cadets, he assumed. Either that, or she had been tipped off Dixon was in reception and was waiting to intercept him.

  Dave Harding and Mark Pearce had been despatched to the Health and Safety Executive office in Bristol to find out how and why their file was listed as ‘missing’. Louise was still at Express Park, going through the prosecution file while she waited for calls to be returned: the Crown Prosecution Service and the British Consulate in Laos.

  The security guards recognised him, but didn’t seem able to work out whether he was with the police cadets or not, although they must have rung the head of security, Jim Crew, anyway, given that he appeared behind the counter, watching Dixon’s every move. Crew waved him to a vacant window and switched on the microphone.

  ‘Are you with the police cadets today, Sir?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Who are you visiting?’

  Dixon leaned forward and spoke quietly into the microphone. ‘No one. I am investigating the murder of—’

  Crew held up his hand, then slid a clipboard under the security glass. ‘Just put my name, Inspector. Will this be a regular occurrence?’

  ‘It will.’

  ‘I’ll give you a seven day pass, then you can come in via the turnstiles instead of through here.’

  ‘We’re going to be setting up an Incident Room in the beat team office.’

  ‘Have you cleared that with Mr Pickles?’

  ‘I haven’t told him yet, no.’

  Dixon needn’t have worried. Pickles was waiting for him when he filed out of reception behind the now silent teenagers. Brown leather brogues and a Rupert Bear waistcoat under his tweed jacket, but Pickles seemed to get away with it. He was still hopping from one foot to the other too.

  ‘An Incident Room, Inspector, is that right?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘But you’ve caught Steiner, surely?’

  ‘We did, Sir, but he got in here – let me rephrase that – someone got him in here and I intend to find out who that was.’

  ‘And why presumably?’ asked Crew, now standing behind Pickles.

  ‘I know why, Sir.’ Dixon smiled, waiting for the obvious question. Pickles had stopped fidgeting, although Crew had started, his eyes fixed on Pickles as he rubbed his chin.

  Pickles beat Crew to it, but only just. ‘Are you going to tell us then, Inspector?’

  ‘No, Sir.’

  ‘It looks like Martha’s going with the police cadets,’ said Crew, ‘so I’ll show you up to the beat team office. What about the rest of your colleagues?’

  ‘They’ll be over later, Sir.’

  ‘Better give them seven day passes too, Jim,’ said Pickles. ‘You will need to be accompanied when you’re on site, Inspector.’

  ‘I understand that,’ replied Dixon.

  ‘I can do it,’ said Crew.

  ‘There we are then.’ Pickles forced a smile. ‘You’ll keep me posted, Inspector?’ He hesitated. ‘Although, thinking about it, I hope I’m not the first to know when you make an arrest; then it would be me being arrested, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Quite so, Sir.’

  Six workstations in the beat team office, and a lock on the door. Dixon wondered who had the keys. Lockable filing cabinets too. There was even a whiteboard on the wall, with this week’s shift rota on it, by the looks of things. It would have to do.

  Martha Sparks burst in, breathing hard. ‘David Pickles rang me,’ she gasped. ‘Nobody told me you were coming in, Sir.’

  ‘Shouldn’t you be with the police cadets?’

  ‘There’s no need. They’re being shown round by someone from the communications team. And they can’t get off the minibus anyway.’

  ‘Who has keys to this office?’ Dixon was looking out of the window at the accommodation block in the distance.


  ‘We’ve got keys to all of the rooms,’ replied Crew. ‘And the facilities manager has some.’

  ‘Can we get the locks changed?’ Matter of fact. ‘It’s not going to be much good as a police Incident Room if it’s not secure.’

  It was a tight squeeze in Amy’s room in the accommodation block. Martha Sparks was watching Dixon from just inside the door, their every move being followed by Jim Crew peering over her shoulder from the corridor.

  The room was small, with a low ceiling, and the mattress had gone from the fixed single bed, revealing pine slats. Dixon leaned over. Nothing underneath. A small dressing table was fixed to the wall on the left, next to a wardrobe, which had been cleared, the doors standing open, the shelves empty.

  ‘It’s been checked,’ said Martha. ‘SOCO were in here for ages.’

  A grey powder had been dusted on the drawer handles, photographs taken of any fingerprints that showed up.

  ‘Her stuff went back to Express Park,’ continued Martha. ‘There wasn’t a lot though.’

  ‘I’ve seen it,’ said Dixon.

  He sat down on the edge of the bed and began flicking at the carpet tiles on the floor with the edge of his shoe. Glued down, probably. Then he stood up and lifted the slats on the bed, checking the tiles below.

  Nothing.

  Then he replaced the slats and sat back down again.

  A box of tissues had been left on the window sill, the only trace of Amy. Dixon picked it up and shook it, before ripping the last of the tissues out.

  ‘Empty,’ he said, stuffing them back in.

  He slid the drawers out and placed them on the bed, checking the back of each and inside the dressing table.

  ‘What about her car?’ he asked.

  ‘Last I heard it went off to Scientific,’ replied Martha.

  Dixon slid his phone out of his pocket and tapped out a text message to Louise.

  Is the report on Amy’s car available yet? Find out if there was any civil litigation arising out of the accident at the bridge pls

  ‘Are you going to be much longer?’ asked Crew, pushing past Martha in the doorway.

  Dixon ignored him, got up and looked out of the window, watching a line of lorries queueing to get into the site.