by Celina Grace
Belatedly, it occurred to Kate that she didn’t have a judgemental leg to stand on. What had Anderton been when they’d first slept together? Yes, that’s right—her immediate boss. DCI Weaver might have twenty years on Theo but how much older was Anderton than Kate? Kate blew out her cheeks and sat up, smoothing her hair back from her face. Okay, how to handle this?
Firstly, she was going to get the hell out of the office, and if that meant she had to escape through the front of the station, then that what was going to happen. The thought of having to pass Nicola’s office again and run the risk of the two of them coming across her was a thought to make Kate wince. And tomorrow? Well, clearly the best thing to do was to be completely English about it all and pretend it had never happened.
She grabbed her bag and crept towards the office door, holding her breath to see if she could hear voices or footsteps. There was silence. Kate ran noiselessly towards the front stairs, holding her bag against her. Once she’d left the station and got to her car, the first giggle escaped her. Oh, Lord, just imagine what Nicola and Theo are going through now… As mortified as Kate was, she could only imagine what they must be feeling. Really, it would be a kindness not to mention anything… Laughing softly to herself, Kate put the car in gear and drove home.
She was still cringing for them the next morning as she ate her breakfast and prepared herself for the day ahead. Kate had half expected a text from Theo, pleading for silence or something similar, but radio silence held. Probably just as well, thought Kate. She picked Merlin up to give him an extra big snuggle, as penance for being away for the last couple of days.
She was so taken up with what had happened the night before that the developments in all three of the current cases had slipped her mind. The sight of a large black crow perched on top of her car reminded her. It eyed her balefully and flew away as she approached. Strange, thought Kate. Almost like an omen—but of what? She flung her coat and bag onto the passenger seat and started the engine. It was a lovely autumn day, blazing with golden sunshine, and despite the embarrassment Kate knew awaited her at work, she drove there in fairly cheerful spirits. These were further raised by Anderton texting her to ask her to dinner that night. Kate tapped out an affirmative answer when she got to the carpark of the station and, taking a deep breath— Just pretend nothing happened, just pretend nothing happened—she walked into the building.
She had to steel herself to walk past DCI Weaver’s office, but the door was firmly shut. Blowing out her cheeks, Kate headed to her desk, realising with relief that Theo either wasn’t in yet, or was out (or had resigned in sheer shame). Smiling to herself, Kate sat down and greeted Chloe. A small part of her—okay, quite a large part of her—wanted to share the gossip but, morally and ethically, she knew it would be a dreadful thing to do. Thankfully, she thought of Anderton, with whom she would share the news with.
“Welcome back, bird,” Chloe said absently as she scrolled the wheel of her mouse. “So, a successful trip, yeah?”
“Yes. I’ve got a potential witness slash suspect to interview as a matter of urgency.” Kate opened up the relevant database to run a background check on Melanie Smith. She printed off the relevant files and returned to her desk to peruse them more thoroughly. Melanie Smith had had a chequered youth. Convictions for shoplifting, for soliciting, drug convictions, once for assault. Kate pressed her lips together. Nothing too surprising for a child who’d been abandoned, who’d grown up in care, who—if the other girl, Karen Black, had been telling the truth—had been abused by the very people supposed to be protecting her. It was depressing, but it was expected. But did that mean that Melanie was capable of these much more serious and brutal crimes?
Kate decided not to phone ahead to announce her visit. Sometimes it was wise to interview people on the hop; they weren’t able to prepare their stories quite so successfully if they were pre-warned. She collected her things and walked towards the door of the office where she managed to run almost slap bang into Theo, who was walking in.
“Sorry,” gasped Kate, as she tried to regain her balance. Theo, naturally, apologised too. Kate’s careful sense of what she’d been prepared to do when confronting him for the first time since it happened fell apart. She stuttered out something about hurrying off to an interview before realising that Theo was as equally embarrassed as she was. Possibly more.
Kate said a hurried goodbye and scurried off to the door of the office before slowing down. Taking a deep breath, she turned around.
“Theo, could you come with me to this interview? It’s a possible witness but also a possible suspect as well. I think it should be a two-man job.”
Theo looked as though he wanted to refuse but, technically, Kate was now his senior officer. Frowning, he nodded and got up from his desk.
“Unless you’ve got something for Nicola that you need to be doing that’s more urgent?”
Kate meant this quite genuinely but the second the words were out of her mouth, she realised how Theo might construe it. His face went even redder and he mumbled something that she couldn’t quite hear. “Great, great,” she said hurriedly. “Let’s go then.”
Once they were sat in the car, Kate took another deep breath and turned to her colleague.
“Theo, I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’m really sorry for what happened and I—I just wanted to say that obviously, it’s none of my business, but I won’t tell anybody. I won’t get you into trouble.”
Theo exhaled and slumped back in his chair, closing his eyes. There was a short pause. “Thanks, mate,” he said, eventually.
Kate hesitated. “Well…we can leave it there if you want.” She looked more closely at Theo, noting the dark circles under his eyes and the stubble that looked as though it had been growing for a few days. “Unless… Unless you want to talk about it?”
Theo gave her a sideways glance and then looked away. “Um—”
“It’s okay,” said Kate. “It’s none of my business. But, you know, I have been there.” She gave him a smile. “And it worked out okay for me.”
Theo smiled back. “Yeah, I know. I dunno… I really like her but—well, you know… She’s the boss of me. Literally.”
Kate turned the key in the ignition. “I know.”
“And…we shouldn’t really be doing this.”
“I know that, too.”
Theo slumped again. “So that’s me, rock and a hard place.”
Kate would have normally made some sort of smutty joke at this point in the conversation, but she had a feeling it wouldn’t be appreciated at this moment in time. “Well, what are you going to do?”
Theo put a hand up to his head as if it hurt him. “I don’t know.”
“All right,” said Kate, sensing that an argument was just around the corner. “Let’s leave it for now. I’m sure things will work themselves out.” She thought for a moment and added “And I really will keep it to myself, I promise.”
“Thanks, mate.”
They drove in silence for a few miles. Then Theo seemed to shake himself back to the job in hand and asked, “So, what can you tell me about this suspect?”
“I don’t know that she is a suspect,” said Kate. “But she’s linked to at least two of the crime scenes. She was at the children’s care home that William Bathford ran. Her social worker, at least for a while, was Amanda Callihan.” Kate clenched the wheel as a thought occurred to her. “Theo, ring the office and get someone to find the link between Roland Barry and William Bathford.”
“Is there one?” Theo reached for his phone.
“There will be, I’m certain of it. He was a teacher, wasn’t he? Perhaps he taught at the care home.”
“Okay,” Theo said dubiously. “But I’m sure that would have been flagged up before, wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t know.” Kate tapped the wheel impatiently. “Things get missed, don’t they?”
“Alright, alright, I’m on it.” Theo tapped at his phone’s screen and held it to his
ear.
Chapter Twenty Two
Kate was keenly aware that she had a tendency to judge people. Although years of experience should have taught her that people were more than stereotypes, she had to fight with herself not to pre-judge people when she knew their background and histories. She knew Melanie Smith had grown up in care and had been in and out of trouble with the law throughout her adult life. Kate reminded herself that people could transcend their backgrounds. God knew, she had done it herself. So, as she and Theo approached a rundown block of flats surrounded by a small warren of council houses, Kate reminded herself that Melanie could very well be well-groomed, well-spoken, somebody whom you wouldn’t have expected to grow up in care. Just say what you mean, Kate. Not a member of the underclass. Wincing inwardly, Kate shook herself mentally and focused her attention on the present.
It therefore came as a small shock when Melanie answered the door of her small terraced house, smoking cigarette in her hand, greasy hair dragged back from her worn face in a Croydon facelift, wearing stained tracksuit trousers and filthy Ugg boots.
“Yeah?” she said, suspiciously.
Kate and Theo flashed their credentials. Melanie didn’t react with the kind of shock they were used to seeing. She frowned and asked what they wanted.
“We’re investigating the deaths of Roland Barry, Amanda Cahill and William Bathford,” said Kate. “Could we come in for a moment?”
Melanie looked as if she was going to refuse. Then, shrugging heavy shoulders, she turned and left the door open for them.
Kate and Theo walked into a tip, a home where clutter threatened to overwhelm the battered furniture. Smoke hung in the air like a grey curtain. A soiled nappy was bundled together on the carpet by the gas fire and plastic toys were heaped in untidy piles everywhere. Kate was suddenly transported back to her childhood; to the noise, the chaos, the embarrassment. Repressing a shudder, she sat gingerly on the edge of an armchair.
“You got kids, Mrs Smith?” asked Theo, looking around the room.
“Yeah, four of ‘em. They’re at school and nursery.” Melanie sat down opposite Kate, shoving a pile of clothing off the sofa and onto the floor to make room for her ample behind. “And I’m not married.”
Kate nodded. “Could we call you Melanie?”
Melanie shrugged but didn’t demur.
“As I said before, we’re investigating the deaths of Roland Barry, Amanda Cahill and William Bathford. Do any of those names mean anything to you, Melanie?”
Melanie lit another cigarette from the stub of the first. “No.”
Kate sighed inwardly. “Have a think, Melanie.”
“I said no.” Melanie turned her head away as if offended by the very sight of Kate. Then she froze. “Wait, what was the last one?”
“William Bathford,” said Kate, watching her closely.
Melanie’s face contracted for a second. “Bathford—he’s dead?”
“Yes, he died a couple of years ago.” Kate added “In very suspicious circumstances.”
Melanie drew on the cigarette as if it were administering life-saving oxygen. “Bathford. That bastard.”
“So, you did know him, then?”
Melanie threw her a look of scorn. “You know I did, otherwise you wouldn’t be here, right?”
Kate leaned forward. “So, tell us about him, Melanie?”
“Am I under arrest, or what?”
“Not yet,” said Theo. “But I suggest you start talking.”
It was a long, rambling recounting. Melanie spoke, mostly keeping her eyes on the floor, chain-smoking throughout. Her free hand kept going up to her ponytail, pulling on it and tightening the hairband. Kate and Theo listened in silence, only prompting her a few times when her words dried up. It was the usual sad story: no father in the picture, mother died young, no family to take Melanie in. “I was in care my whole childhood,” she mumbled. “Got fostered once or twice but it never lasted.”
“I’m sorry,” said Kate, who genuinely was.
Melanie sniffed. “Yeah, well. That Bathford—” She hesitated.
Kate and Theo exchanged glances. “Go on, Melanie,” said Kate.
Melanie lit another cigarette. Kate thought, with an inner sigh, of all the washing she would have to do once home. Every piece of clothing she was wearing was going to reek of smoke.
“Yeah, well, Bathford, he started paying me a bit more attention. You know, giving me sweets and letting me watch TV in his room and all that.”
Kate nodded, not wanting to interrupt her.
Melanie coughed. “It were grooming, I know that now, but when I were fourteen, you don’t know, do you? You just like the attention.”
Kate decided to ask directly. “Melanie, are you saying that William Bathford sexually abused you?”
Melanie didn’t blush. Her face tightened. “Yeah,” she said, after a moment.
“So, the allegations that you made to the Whitehaven police were true?”
Melanie nodded. She ground her cigarette out into the brimming ashtray with a vicious twist.
Kate tried to say it gently. “So, why did you withdraw those allegations?”
Melanie rubbed at her eyes. She was silent so long that Theo coughed restlessly. Kate shot him a warning glance.
Eventually Melanie spoke. “He—Bathford—he told me nobody would believe me. He scared me, telling me all about the courts and stuff. Like, I’d be totally humiliated in front of everyone. And—” She stopped for a moment, a crack in her voice. “He… I wasn’t exactly sure it was wrong, what we were doing. Because, he told me I was his special girl, you know. Like his girlfriend.”
Kate nodded. Dirty and dishevelled as Melanie was, for a moment Kate wanted nothing more than to hug her. She could see that scared, confused child in Melanie’s hardened face. “I understand, Melanie, I totally understand.” She paused and added, “And what about Karen Black?”
Melanie looked directly at her. “Who?”
“The other girl who reported William Bathford at the same time as you did.”
Melanie sniffed again. “Oh, her. I dunno.”
“Do you think she was telling the truth, too?”
Melanie’s words came out in a cloud of exhaled smoke. “I dunno. She used to lie all the time, she was like a psycho.”
Kate leaned forward. “Tell me about her. Anything that you remember, please.”
Melanie shrugged. “I don’t remember much about her. She punched one boy in the face once. She used to cut herself all up the arms, she had real problems.”
“It sounds like it.” Kate glanced about the room, wondering if there was any way in hell that Melanie would have a photograph of herself or of Karen Black back when they were teenagers. Was it even worth asking?
Then she froze. Her gaze snagged on something on top of a battered looking cupboard over in the corner, almost lost in the clutter of toys, papers, clothes and empty Coke cans surrounding it. Kate got up and walked over to it, glancing back at Theo, who had also stiffened.
“Melanie, where did you get this?” Kate reached into her bag, where she always kept a pair of surgical gloves. She snapped one on and picked up the statue of the woman. It was slightly different to the Erinyes they had found at the recent crime scenes; more crudely carved, less detailed, made of a different type of stone. Kate held it up in front of Melanie. “Where did you get this?” she repeated.
Melanie’s eyes flickered. “I dunno. Can’t remember.”
Kate and Theo exchanged a glance. “Come on, Melanie, you need to try and recall. It’s very important,” said Kate.
“I told you, I can’t remember.”
“Did you make it?”
Melanie scoffed. “As if. I’ve had it for ages, dunno where I got it.”
She’s lying. Kate sighed inwardly and glanced again at Theo, who nodded slightly.
Kate turned back to Melanie. “Melanie Smith, I’m arresting you for the murder of William Bathford, Roland Barry and Amanda Cahill.” Sh
e followed this with the usual words of the caution. Melanie looked bewildered, rather than angry. “Come on, we’re taking you to the station.”
Melanie blinked rapidly. “What about me kids?”
“Have you anyone you can call to collect them from school?” Kate’s glance fell on the bundled nappy on the carpet. “Or nursery?”
“No. The mums at school don’t like me.”
“We’ll make sure Social Services deal with it. They can arrange temporary foster care.”
“No doubt they know you already,” said Theo. Melanie didn’t look as though she’d taken that in, but Kate winced inwardly. Theo was probably right but a pointed remark like that was just kicking someone when they were down. She fought the urge to give him a poke in the ribs. “Come on, Melanie. It’ll be fine.”
Theo was already bagging the statue. I’ll have to get a warrant, thought Kate. This whole house will have to be searched. Oh help, that means I have to face Nicola…
Well, it couldn’t be helped. She led Melanie out to the car while Theo dialled the number for Social Services.
Chapter Twenty Three
“Get forensics on that statue,” Kate snapped at Theo as they arrived back in the office. He rolled his eyes.
“Mate, I’m on it, okay?”
“I’m your DI, not your mate.” Kate saw Chloe’s eyebrows go up in shock and Theo’s face register her words. She bit down on the apology that wanted to follow.
