by Sally Rigby
George was happy to agree. Whitney without caffeine wasn’t pleasant for anyone.
‘Okay, then after the interview I have to go to the university. I want to collect some research papers my secretary’s printing for me so I can do some work at home. I much prefer working from hard copies. I’ll meet you back at your house later, unless you need me for anything before then,’ George said.
She was embarking on an exciting project looking into qualitative profiling of forensic psychologists applying for employment in young offender institutions in Europe, and she’d hoped to spend time working on it. Her interview schedule was planned, but before embarking on any, she needed to complete a literature review on what was already out there, to help her frame her own research questions.
The plan was to present her paper at an international conference in Brussels next year, providing she wasn’t too distracted by her father’s situation, and house-hunting with Ross.
She’d finally agreed to look for a somewhere they could live together permanently, rather than continue with their current arrangement which was they stayed at hers in Lenchester during the week and his at the weekend. He lived nearly an hour away, and she had to admit the travelling was becoming tedious. Once they’d found somewhere suitable, which had a separate space large enough for Ross to use as a studio for his sculpting, they would each sell their own property.
‘I thought the students had finished and you were on annual leave?’
‘They have, and I am. But I still like to work.’
Although George had permission from her departmental head to work with Whitney on important cases, it still caused friction with some of her colleagues. If it wasn’t for her high research profile in the field, she doubted she’d still be allowed to assist the police.
‘Okay. I won’t need you after we speak to Hudson again.’
‘Thank you.’
They took the lift to the ground floor and headed to the canteen. They’d no sooner sat down with their coffee and cake when Whitney’s phone rang.
‘For goodness’ sake, you don’t get a moment’s peace around here.’ Whitney picked up her phone. ‘Walker.’ She nodded. ‘Okay, thanks.’ She ended the call. ‘Corey Hudson’s solicitor has arrived. He’ll need some time with his client, so there’s no rush. We’ll finish up here and then collect Brian. I want to take copies of the evidence found in his memory box with us. The boy has a lot of questions to answer.’
After finishing, they headed back to the incident room.
‘Guv, I’ve got the name of Keira’s new boyfriend. It’s Zak Lyle,’ Ellie said as they passed by her desk.
‘He’s still alive then?’
‘As far as I know.’
‘Good. Frank, I want you to interview him. Ellie has his details. You can speak to him at his home.’
‘I’ve only just got back from seeing the neighbour. Can I grab something to eat first?’ Frank said.
‘Make it quick. Did they confirm that Hudson was the person they’d seen hanging around?’
‘Yes. I also spoke to some other residents, but none of them had seen him.’
‘When you speak to Zak Lyle, find out if he thought they were being followed by Hudson, and if he’d been threatened by him.’
‘Yes, guv.’
When they reached the interview room, George slipped into the observation area again, and took another look at the suspect. His father was no longer with him and instead he was alone with the solicitor.
‘Interview resumed, Mr Hudson is replaced by …’ Whitney nodded towards the solicitor.
‘Malcolm Templeton, solicitor for Corey Hudson.’
‘Corey, we’ve searched your house, and what do you think we found in your wardrobe?’
A look of panic crossed his face. ‘I don’t know.’
‘I believe you do.’ Whitney pulled out some sheets of paper from the folder she’d placed on the table. ‘There was a box full of items relating to Keira Barker. These are copies of some items we found.’ She slid the papers over to him and he pulled them close, staring down at the images.
‘There’s nothing wrong with me keeping mementoes of our time together.’
‘No, but what about these?’ Whitney slid over another sheet of paper, with photos of Keira and her new boyfriend.
He reached for it. ‘Um …’
‘These were taken secretly. You were following them.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with that, either.’ He kept his head down, avoiding looking directly at Whitney.
‘You were angry with Keira for ending it with you and then going out with Zak Lyle, so you decided to do something about it.’
He turned to his solicitor, who leant in and whispered something to him.
‘I’ve got nothing else to say,’ Corey muttered.
‘That’s up to you, but you’re not helping yourself. We know you were outside the house on the night of the murders. We know that you have no alibi for at least part of the time when they took place. We know you were stalking Keira Barker. How do you think that looks, from our perspective?’
He pressed his fists to the side of his head. ‘I didn’t do it. I didn’t. I swear on my whole family’s life. I loved Keira. I never wanted to harm her. Why don’t you believe me?’
‘My client’s very upset. I want you to stop the interview,’ the solicitor said.
‘The interview will end when I say so, and that won’t be until Corey answers our questions.’
‘Corey?’ the solicitor said.
‘I’m okay,’ Corey said, quietly, bringing his hands down to his lap and sitting still.
‘When you were stalking Keira, did—’
‘I wasn’t stalking her,’ Corey interrupted Whitney.
‘Okay. When you were following Keira and watching the Barker house, did you see anything unusual? Was there anyone acting suspiciously?’
‘No.’
‘On Saturday night when you were hiding in the back garden, you told us that you could see Keira’s bedroom and also the kitchen. What exactly did you observe?’
‘I watched Keira in her bedroom for some of the time. She was sitting on the window seat on her phone. I saw her again when she went into the kitchen to help her mum with the dinner.’
‘You’d been invited for dinner that evening, as we’d discussed earlier. What time would the meal have been?’
‘Mealtime was always seven in the evening and Mrs Barker would get cross if anyone was late. Eating dinner together was a family thing, so they could all talk about their day. A bit weird really.’
‘What do you mean by weird?’ Whitney asked.
‘You know, like you see on the telly. But it’s not real. I don’t know anyone else who does it.’
‘Is it correct that you can’t see the dining room from the back garden?’
‘Yes.’
‘So why did you stay until nine, if you couldn’t see anything?’
‘I was waiting until after they’d finished to see what Keira did.’
‘And did you see her again?’
‘No.’
‘Did you see any of the family?’
‘Mrs Barker came into the kitchen to get the dessert at around eight, I think, and after that I didn’t see anyone. But I stayed a bit longer just in case.’
‘Did dinner often go on for a long time?’
‘It depended on whether Mr Barker was there. If he was, then they would stay at the table for ages talking. Sometimes until after nine.’
‘When we looked in your bedroom it was tidy, and all your books were in order. Have you always been like that?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe.’ He shrugged.
‘Your parents aren’t like that. Does it annoy you?’
‘No.’
‘He’s lying,’ George said in her ear.
‘I don’t believe you. It must be annoying if you’re obsessive about tidiness.’
‘That makes me sound weird. I’m not obsessive.’ He folded his
arms tightly across his chest.
‘If you say so. Do you enjoy cooking?’ Whitney asked.
‘Yes.’
‘That’s unusual for a young man of your age. What’s your signature dish?’ She might be rubbish in the kitchen, but Whitney loved watching all the cookery shows on the telly. They always talked about having a signature dish on there.
‘I don’t have one.’
‘When was the last time you cooked a meal?’
‘I made Sunday lunch for my family two weeks ago. We had roast lamb, mashed potatoes, and parsnips.’
Lamb? Coincidence?
‘Do you know of anyone who might have had a grudge against the family?’ Whitney asked.
‘No, how would I know something like that?’
He glanced upwards, a tiny frown on his face.
‘Give him a few seconds, Whitney, he’s thought of something,’ George said to her.
‘Actually …’ He paused. ‘It looked like they were a perfect family, but they weren’t.’
‘Can you be more specific?’ Whitney said.
‘You know, people always thought they were this awesome family. Keira and her brothers did well at school. Keira and Harvey especially were popular with other kids and were just … you know … Cool. Mr and Mrs Barker both had good jobs. But I can tell you there was definitely something going on with Mr Barker.’
Whitney leant forward, her senses on full alert. ‘What do you mean going on?’
‘There was this one time when I was there and I heard him on the phone. He was in the garden, and I was on my way out to pick up my hat that Keira had thrown out of her bedroom window in fun. I heard him and then stood by the door, not wanting to go outside until he’d finished. Some of the things he was saying made it sound like he was talking to another woman.’
‘Can you remember what he said?’
‘Yeah. That he missed her and blowing kisses down the phone and all that crap. It was disgusting. A man of his age.’
‘How do you know he wasn’t speaking to his wife?’
‘Because she was in the kitchen cooking. It wasn’t her.’
Was he telling the truth or trying to send them on a wild goose chase, to take the pressure off of him? If it was true, they’d found a chink in the family. If David Barker was seeing someone else, that could be a motive to harm the family.
‘How long ago was this?’
‘I’m not sure exactly, but maybe three months.’
‘And what did you do after you heard him? Did you mention it to Keira?’
‘I went straight to her room and told her, but she didn’t believe me. She said I hadn’t heard it right. But I did. I know it.’
‘Did you talk about it again with her?’
‘No. I didn’t want to upset her.’
‘Do you think Keira ended your relationship because of what you said about her dad?’
‘No. Or she would have done it straight away, wouldn’t she?’
‘But even if David Barker wasn’t who he seemed, it doesn’t change the fact that you were at the scene on the night the family were murdered, and you have no alibi.’
‘I didn’t do it.’ He turned to his solicitor. ‘Why won’t they believe me?’
‘Because you have a motive,’ Brian said.
‘Motive? That’s stupid. I loved Keira. Why would I want her dead? And why kill the rest of her family? You just want to pin it on someone. But you’re wrong.’ A single tear rolled down his cheek, and he brushed it away with the back of his hand.
‘I don’t believe you’re going to get any more out of him. His expression is closed. You need to give him some time,’ George said.
‘My client has nothing more to tell you. May he leave?’ the solicitor asked, just after George had spoken.
The interview would finish, but she wasn’t going to release him yet. He was the only suspect they had.
‘He’s going to remain in custody. We have thirty-six hours before we have to charge him.’
‘But there’s nothing to charge me with. That’s what I keep telling you.’ Corey banged the table with his fist.
‘That’s what we’re investigating now. You’re our prime suspect. You were at the scene of the crime and have an issue with one of the family members. What would you do if you were in our position?’
‘But …’ The solicitor rested his hand on Corey’s arm, and he stopped talking.
The young man was returned to custody and George met Whitney in the corridor.
‘Did you believe him about David Barker on the phone?’ Whitney asked.
‘He didn’t show any signs of lying.’
‘That’s great. Now we’ve got something to work with.’
‘I’ll see you later, back at your house,’ she said.
‘Looking forward to it. We’ll grab a takeaway, and you can see the baby. I’ve already texted Tiffany and she can’t wait to see you.’
Chapter 13
Whitney walked into her office and hung her jacket on the back of the door. As she sat at her desk, she spotted a pink sticky note in the middle of her computer screen. The super wanted to see her as soon as she was back for an update. Why? She’d only been to see her a few hours ago. Should she pretend not to have seen it and instead grab a much-needed coffee and go into the incident room to see how the team was doing?
Except, it would have been one of them who’d taken the message and she didn’t want the super accusing them of not passing it on. Not least because Dickhead was so closely involved, and he could’ve been the one to demand her presence.
She gave a loud groan and then left her office, going to the next level, where her boss was situated. The door was slightly ajar, so she knocked and stuck her head around.
‘You wanted to see me, ma’am.’
‘Yes, Whitney. Come on in and sit down. I’ll contact the chief super because he wanted to be included in your update.’ She gestured to the seat in front of her desk.
‘There isn’t much more to tell you following my earlier briefing. Why don’t I give you the latest, and you can pass it on to him without me having to be here?’ It seemed a perfect solution to her because it meant she could keep out of his way and get on with her job, which is what he wanted her to do.
‘No, Whitney, that won’t be possible. The chief super asked to be kept informed, and he specifically wanted you to be here,’ Clyde replied, giving a dry smile. She picked up the phone. ‘DCI Walker is here, sir.’ She replaced the phone on the desk. ‘He’ll be along in a minute.’
His office was only three doors down so it shouldn’t take that long, or was he pretending to be busy? Considering he was all about image, she wouldn’t put it past him.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Whitney said, forcing a smile.
‘Is there any more to report since our meeting earlier?’
‘Yes, ma’am. We now have someone in custody, but I’ll explain all that when … um … the chief super arrives.’
She pressed her lips together, only just stopping herself from referring to him as Dickhead. Clyde might be on her side, but that would be pushing it too far. Not only that, her attitude was ridiculous. George was right. She really needed to stop dwelling on her dislike for the man because the only person she was damaging was herself, and she’d end up getting into trouble. He’d love to be able to demote her. She could imagine the look on his face if …
The door opened and Douglas strode in like he owned the place.
‘Walker. Tell me everything that’s happened so far.’ He stood next to Whitney’s chair and stared at her, his arms folded. That said it all.
‘Let’s sit at the table, shall we, it’s much easier to discuss that way,’ the super said, as she walked around her desk.
Whitney immediately rose and joined them.
Douglas positioned himself right next to the super, rather than spreading out. Was it an intimidation tactic designed to show it was the two of them against her? If it was, it wasn’t working.
‘Over to you, Whitney,’ the super said.
‘We have someone in custody.’
Douglas exchanged a glance with the super. ‘Excellent work, Walker. Who is it?’
Praise from him? That couldn’t be right. No doubt the digs would follow.
‘The ex-boyfriend of Keira. His name is Corey Hudson. Do you know him? They went out together for a couple of years until she finished with him recently.’
‘Can’t say as I do, but then we didn’t see them very often. I don’t even remember how old Keira was when we last saw them.’
‘If you recall, sir, Mrs Douglas mentioned that you were with the family at her parents’ wedding anniversary celebration last year,’ Whitney said.
‘Of course, so I would have seen her then.’ He paused a moment. ‘From memory, Keira wasn’t with a boyfriend, but I’ll check with my wife to make sure I’m correct. And he did all this. It’s unthinkable.’ He shook his head.
‘He’d been stalking Keira since she ended their relationship a few weeks ago. He was in the garden of the family home on Saturday night watching them, in particular Keira.’
‘In the garden? Well, it’s large enough not to be spotted, if you’re in the right place, I suppose.’
‘Yes, sir. He positioned himself under one of the large trees situated along the boundary, on the right.’
‘And he admitted all this?’ Douglas asked, leaning forward slightly, a frown on his face.
‘He did after we informed him that his size ten footprints were found in the garden, and also that a neighbour had identified him as hanging around the area staring at the house. But he’s denied the murders, saying that he’d already left the house and gone home. He doesn’t have an alibi because there was no one at home to vouch for him at the time the murders took place.’
‘Have you charged him?’
‘Not yet, because we don’t have sufficient evidence.’
‘What’s the hold-up? Get the evidence,’ Douglas snapped, back to his usual self.
‘It’s not so clear-cut. The boy is only seventeen and, as Dr Cavendish pointed out, the way the scene was staged, required a degree of intelligence that we’re not convinced he has.’
