About to speak Kyle was interrupted by one of her escorting ladies, “No speaking please, you are in custody. No speaking until you arrive at the police station. You will be read your rights and offered a solicitor to be present.”
Nothing further was said. It was it seemed to be the longest journey Ron and Kyle had or would ever make between Manchester and Chester.
Arriving in the rear yard of the police station that evening, the trauma for Kyle and Ron was set to continue.
Assisted out of the people carrier by their escorts the couple were taken inside the building by the rear door.
Once inside and walking along the corridor passing various rooms Ron recalled his years working here. The looming of the approaching cell block where he had visited so many prisoners supervising them once every hour at least, over the years the numbers and occasions were countless.
The door at the end opened and then they were thrust into the bright lights of the custody suite, in the old days it was simply referred to as the cell block and charge room.
The ever approaching desk with the uniformed custody officer standing waiting. He too had a new title, now the custody officer, those holding the rank and position had simply been known as the Station Sergeant. The officer then gifted with the job had always been the senior sergeant not senior in rank but senior in years service and thus was granted the inside job. The younger more agile sergeant classed as the patrol sergeant was left to walk and ride around at all hours in all weathers supervising the beat patrol officers.
There was the usual noisy background sounds, voices shouting, some laughing, bodies walking to and fro. Now as the new arrivals came ever nearer the room became silent. It was that eerie silence that struck Ron. He could feel the eyes penetrating him, a fallen angel amongst the officers present.
As for Kyle she had no memories to recall for this was the first occasion in her entire life she had not only entered into a police station let alone the custody suite.
Arriving at the desk the waiting sergeant was well known to Ron, His name badge replacing the old way once again of referring to officers in lower rank simply by their collar number. This had long been removed from the collar of the tunic many years even before Ron had joined but old traditions died hard and so it was common practice for constables to be referred to by their senior ranks simply as three, seven, seven. The figure in waiting, pen in hand was Joe Grimshaw.
“You are, Mr Gittins, and Mrs. Gittins, I believe. I am Sergeant Grimshaw the custody officer. I am told that you have been told the reason for your arrests and detention, that is on a charge of murder, is that correct?”
They both whispered, “yes,” in confirmation.
Joe continued, “I will now record your details upon the custody sheet. On completion of this procedure. I will then run through others to comply with the provisions of the Police and Criminal Evidence Act. Please note the video cameras located at various points around the room and in the passages and cell areas, these are recording images of everything that takes place.”
“Officers of the escort please remove the handcuffs. Place Mr Gittins on the bench against that wall, Mrs. Gittins if you would remain standing, Policewoman Russell if you would please escort the prisoner.”
The background noise returned and those other officers not directly connected with the current procedure went about their normal business. Ron could hear the odd remark, “Bastard, renegade copper, the words “bad name” could also be heard.
“You lot get on with your duties,” called Joe and then he looked to face Kyle. She then answered his questions as to her full name, date of birth, occupation and current address. She was then asked if she wished a solicitor to be notified and that if she did not know of one, the duty on call defence solicitor would be notified. If she did not wish to be legally represented this would be noted but she must sign to say this was her wish.
It was then Ron spoke, he uttered just two words, “Mr Hayes.”
This caused a smile to appear on the face of Joe though he did not look up, he just wrote down the name.
Mr Tim Hayes the best defence solicitor in the counties of Shropshire and Cheshire. All operational Coppers knew him; he was a nightmare to deal with. Some said he had done more damage to the law abiding community then any group of criminals. Hayes knew the law backwards, he was inventive with the defences he put forward. If there were any loose ends, points missed, Hayes never failed to capitalise upon them. Notwithstanding what the everyday Copper experienced at his hand in the cases they dealt with, one could lay any amount of money at any odds if they found themselves on the wrong side of the law it was certain they would ask Hayes to represent them.
Once Kyle had provided the details, Joe Grimshaw looked up and then said, “Officer please take the prisoner into that room behind you, search her and then return with her property for me to record. Ensure you take from the prisoner any belts, shoe laces or other items with which she may cause any harm to herself. If any medication is in her possession please bring this to my attention so that the police surgeon may be called to certify the use of such items.”
The policewoman took Kyle by the arm, they turned, walked the few paces into the small room and the door was closed.
A few minutes later the door opened, the duo walked up and stood before the large tall booking in desk and the policewoman placed the property of Kyle onto the desk. Grimshaw noted the contents one by one.
He now looked up and said, “I will read out the items of your property. I will then ask you to sign that this is a true and accurate record of all items you had in your possession at the time you were brought into custody at this police station. He used his words carefully his long years of experience had told him that a word missed could be disastrous. So many occasions were on record that a prisoner had hidden or dis-guarded property between the place of their arrest and arrival at the police station. There had been many enquiries and egg on faces over this as there was about the next question.
He listed the jewellery, one yellow metal ring, one white metal ring containing white stone.”
Kyle now said, “The rings they are gold and the stone it is a diamond.”
Joe smiled then said, “I am not a jeweller and thus cannot distinguish these facts.”
He did not add that over the years prisoners had been in possession of rings, jewellery the logging in officer had put gold ring or diamond or emerald stone. On release the accused had taken the ring to a jeweller and then provided a report that the rings were neither gold, nor the stone precious. A complaint was made that the items had been substituted by the police and a claim, often substantial had been made. Clearly a fiddle but over the years wise officers had learned either from their errors or those of others, thus it was always yellow or white metal or stone.
“Right, Mrs Gittins I now must now inform you that I require you to provide a DNA sample. This will be done in the room provided next to the detention area. An officer from the crime scene department is waiting to obtain the sample. The officer will also take your fingerprints which will eventually be forwarded to New Scotland Yard who file the national record and your photograph is also to be kept on police records.
“Very well Sergeant,” replied Kyle, by now she had realised all she could do was to comply with instructions and then remain silent.
Having completed the procedure, Joe, turning to the escort officer then said the dreaded words to any prisoner with no experience of such matters, “Officer take Mrs. Gittins to the female cells, obtain the DNA sample and then lock her up. You retain the key and make yourself available to supervise the prisoner.”
The reason was obvious to Ron, the last thing the duty officer wanted were allegations a male officer had visited or been into a female cell without the presence of a female officer. There were occasions of emergency and on those occasions it was a must that there was always be two officers, never a male officer alone.
He turned the page and thus it was now the turn of
Ron. The times he had stood with those he had arrested in front of this desk whilst sergeants had completed the procedure, somewhat different these days admittedly, but the atmosphere and consequences were exactly the same. Never, in all his years did he ever consider that one day roles would be reversed and that he would be the prisoner.
Meanwhile, Kyle had arrived in the doctor’s examination room. She sat on a chair as directed. The lady dressed in the regulation white protective suit and blue rubber gloves was holding the cotton swab.
“If you would please open your mouth madam, I will just insert this cotton swab and take a saliva sample; it is painless and will take but a moment.”
Kyle complied and the officer was true to her word. The operation was painless and took only a moment. The swab then secured in the phial, the procedure was completed in moments, the consequences could last a lifetime.
This completed, she stood against a wall as directed with a measuring stick beside her, a photograph was taken from the front and then both sides. Finally she walked over then placed the required substance on each hand in turn. Each finger was rolled over onto the form on the desk, then the flat of the pressed together fingers and finally each palm. She was given a cloth to wipe her hands after which all the routine required when a person was received into custody was now completed.
Kyle was then escorted out and her shoes removed she found herself standing in the police cell.
It was her first occasion, as the metal door slammed shut she stood and gazed in awe around her. The area was small only a few feet in all directions. On the floor was wooden platform, with a plastic mattress on the top. There was a folded blanket in the far corner of the object, for that is what it appeared to her to be.
In the far corner, at the side of the door to offer some privacy was the toilet, a button on the wall to flush the human waste away. There was also another button and written above, were the words, “press for attention."
On the rear of the door were scratched various names and some offensive words, clearly made by previous occupants. Having stood for several moments she then sat down on the bed and then closed her eyes and pondered.
Arriving in another world of silence, loneliness and yes, despair, how on earth could all this have occurred? Only hours before she had been walking free in the warm sun of the South of France, now she was confined here, a common criminal.
In the custody suite Ron provided the exact information as his wife had done, he too elected Tim Hayes to represent him. This done, he was escorted to the cells area. He looked and saw the rotating video camera. He cast his mind back to the times he had stood and viewed the images in the control room adjacent to the information room. He realised only too well he too was now being observed, he dreaded to think of the comments being made. A bent cop was worse than any normal criminal in the eyes of serving officers. There would no doubt be more vile ordeals to come but that would be for another day, maybe.
As he walked along to be locked up like the common and even vile murderer of the innocent that he was now he could see the glances of hate from his ex colleagues who, as he approached and passed they turn their backs to him, the odd one spitting onto the floor. He knew only too well in the old days before the advent of video recording a bent copper such as he would have received more direct ill treatment. As it was, this turning aside by those he had served so long with was very wounding. The serious crimes he had either dealt with or been involved in. The risky and life threatening occasions, all now of no importance. He was a villain, worse, a fallen copper, who had it seemed committed an act contrary to all he had spent thirty years fighting against. There were now doubts on the faces of those he could see before they turned away. He could read their expressions, and their questions, “what else has he done and over what period?”
He too cooperated with the remaining procedures which Kyle had endured, he too went through them, save that his fingerprints were not taken. As a serving officer they were already on record, there is no way they would have been destroyed when he retired. When all was completed he also sat alone in a cell. He looked around him the sight he was witnessing he had seen many times, more than he could recall but now, it was happening to him, it was so much more terrifying.
He thought back to the times some occupants had been secured complaining they were afraid of confined spaces. He, and other officers serving alongside him had simply laughed and ignored the calls not to be secured and left the inmate alone.
Many had banged the cell doors with the metal cup that was supplied to prisoners in those days. The sergeant responded with a blast of foul language and then turned off all the lights adding to the despair of the as yet un-convicted criminal. It was now the sitting alone that this all came back to him. He too was alone not knowing what lay ahead.
As Kyle and Ron sat alone in their cells, Kyle had no idea of time, though Ron had some, for occasionally there was the sound of footsteps, the cell flap was pulled down and a face peered inside, nothing was said and the caller disappeared as quickly as they had arrived. Ron had some idea of time for he recalled that visits were made every hour.
Eventually seated there in silence and alone, both prisoners finally dropped off to sleep.
There were suddenly loud voices and then the cell door opened. There were new faces standing at the now opened door. Both prisoners were invited to leave their cell and then taken along the corridor to what Ron knew only too well was the wash area. Each was permitted to wash and then on returning to their cells an officer arrived with a cooked breakfast. Both meals were the same. A fried egg with baked beans and grilled tomatoes. A bread roll was provided but no butter, all on a paper plate with a plastic spoon, no fork, or knife, for obvious reasons. A cup of tea in a plastic mug was also handed to each prisoner.
Both prisoners ate little but did drink the tea. A press of the “attention needed,” bell brought another cup but on this occasion it was, as requested, cold water.
A look at the clock in passageway revealed it was nearly nine o`clock and Ron realised this would soon be the time when all would be revealed. He had not seen or heard of Kyle since the evening before.
Several floors above, Superintendent Kinsella and Inspector Scott-Ling had been in since seven that morning. The reports from the Forensic Science Laboratory had arrived the evening before. Both officers had worked fairly late reading the documents. Doris making notes to formulate the interview with the suspects. It had to be done right; Hayes was a past master in the defence of the indefensible. This morning it had been a relooking at the reports and so now all was set for the most important and hopefully the final stage of the investigation.
Kinsella meanwhile had a plan of attack in mind. She now updated Doris on the strategy they would follow at the forthcoming interviews. They would draw on all her experience she had learned whilst attending lectures on crime and punishment at university.
A vast array of notes from the various professors. These were backed up by the fact she was an avid reader of all the best and most popular murder mysteries by the world’s leading authors. In addition she vividly viewed all the array of detective mysteries on the television.
Yes, it was a clear cut plan. It would be Kyle Gittins who they would interview first. She was a woman, weak in disposition. Adding to this accident of birth she was a nurse, kind at heart but overtaken by greed, possibly instigated by her husband. The fact that she not only had no previous convictions not even a parking violation would prove against her resisting. She had, it was rumored never before been inside any police station. With a little pressure and persuasion she would definitely crack.
Ron on the other hand was a seasoned copper. Although he had not been a detective, he had acquired a vast array of knowledge from those detectives with whom he had served. In addition, in over thirty years he had met and dealt with a vast array of criminals. People of deceit and dishonesty, some of this experience he must have absorbed. No, It would be Kyle first, hopefully she would admit the
crime, possibly stating Ron was an overbearing influence. There was therefore every possibility with the weight of forensic evidence now received plus the additional information from Aubrey Carter, that Kyle would break, and admit the crime. Ron would then have no option but to come clean. She could see it all before her, yes, quick interviews, confessions followed by guilty pleas.
Unlike Doris of course who having worked with Jack Richards recalled how he had said that one should always have an open mind, follow, not lead, or invent the evidence. Give great attention to detail. Always have another avenue of enquiry if the one planned failed or was obstructed. Tunnel vision could well be the worst enemy of any investigator, he had said many times.
The smile on the face of Kinsella told it all, a clear cut murder and clear cut murderers arrested and now safely in custody where they could do no more harm to the innocent such as Iris Carter. Yes it was all going exactly to plan she thought. Doris meanwhile using her experience working with Jack Richards simply concentrated on the job ahead. There would be ample time to celebrate later, when the Judge passed sentence.
The Judas Murders Page 8
