by Nathan Sayer
Adrenalin was flowing and it caused a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. Was this it? The breakthrough they needed? As unexpected as it was, David Jones obviously had a disliking of Gulliver. Was Jones trying to pin Carmella's murder on Gulliver? How did Tina Westwood and her earring fit into all this? Had Jones killed them both?
Reed's phone rang. The caller display said it was Whitehead.
“You can get that.” He said, gesturing to Tyler with his chin.
“You what?”
“Tell him the hands free thingy is playing up.”
Tyler reluctantly picked up the phone. “Sir, DI Reed is driving, can I take a message?”
“Yes you bloody well can. Two actually. Tell him not to use you as his secretary, he's not that privileged.” Tyler had turned the phone away from her own ear so it was pointing in Reed's direction, letting Whitehead's volume make up the distance between the two and pass on his own messages. “And, as he's the one driving, tell him to steer the car towards the Gleens factory. There's a situation.”
Tyler snapped the phone back to her own ear. Reed was straining to listen in again but without much luck. Tyler hung up shortly after.
“Well?”
“He said we'll see when we get there, Steve Garrood will be expecting us. The boys in blue will pick Jones up.” Tyler said.
Reed wondered what could be more important than Jones right now? Whitehead probably just wanted him away from the action so he couldn't mess it up. The marked police car turned off at the Watton/Thetford roundabout heading to Butler's Garage. Reed tried guessing how it would go for the officers? David Jones seemed nice enough, a man who didn't take kindly to Gulliver hitting on young girls, especially Jones' own sister, but how far would he go to show Gulliver the error of his ways? Murder a young girl? Would he go quietly with the officers or try to run away? And what the hell was waiting for Reed and Tyler when they got to Gleen factory?
When they turned into the factory car park there didn't seem to be anything untoward going on so they pulled up near to the main reception. They had barely unfastened their seat belts when the rapping of knuckles on the car window made them both physically jump. Steve Garrood was the anxious looking culprit outside. Reed lowered his window.
“I hope you didn't mind me asking for you personally?”
Well yes actually. “No, of course not. What's the problem?”
“It's Alan. Alan Westwood. He's up on the factory roof.”
Reed knew what that could mean but tried to block the thought. “Have you spoken to him? Is he threatening anything?”
“No. He's fairly calm. I think he's drinking up there. I didn't want to cause too much fuss, that's why I asked for you, but... there's a look in his eyes...” Garrood let the sentence fade away.
“When you say he's on top of the roof, is he at the edge?” Tyler asked, obviously fearing the same.
“No, but... I was worried enough to call.” Garrood said with a shrug, confirming that he too was fearing a nasty outcome.
Alan Westwood's daughter had been murdered and her killer was never reprimanded. Now, just as he had managed to carve out an existence of sorts, the murder of another girl who was of a similar age had happened in the same area and in similar circumstances, stirring up old emotions to the surface again. He'd done well to get through it once, but twice...
Garrood led the way down the same alley that took you to the smoking hut Reed had been to with Mark Parsons. After passing the hut and reaching the end of the alleyway, they turned to the left and headed towards the massive building in front of them. The walls were brick built from the floor to about a third of the way up, the rest of the wall was sheet cladding leading to what appeared to be a flat roof.
“We shouldn't draw too much attention coming round here. This building is always getting broken into so police visits are quite normal. It's a storage unit for finished products. Me and Alan used to have our lunch break up here in the summer months. This was before Health and Safety put an end to it.” Garrood said.
They stopped at the bottom of some metal steps on the outside of the building that led to the roof, Reed told Tyler to give Whitehead a call, he wanted an ambulance called but wanted it to arrive discreetly. Tyler started to operate her phone as he gestured for Garrood to carry on.
The steps clanged loudly under foot despite their best efforts to tip-toe quickly. Garrood moved with surprising speed, Reed consoled himself with the thought that whilst he might be slower than the man twenty years his senior, he was being quieter.
Nearing the top of the stairs but not yet on the roof, both men stopped and looked for any signs of Alan. Was he still up here? He might have needed a little time to himself and had now gone down to a safer level. It had been twenty minutes since Reed had received the phone call from Whitehead and a few scenarios washed through Reed's mind. Not all of them good.
There were air vents and skylights protruding from various positions across the roof. A waist-high wall had been built on the perimeter to stop anyone tripping over the edge, but it wasn't much of an obstacle to anyone who wanted to go over. There was a scattering of green gravel across the roof and there was what looked like a brick built shed set in the far left hand corner. This was probably an access point from inside the building.
The metal stairs started to vibrate a little as Tyler began her climb. This made Reed realise how still he had been standing. His body was tense and he had to force his muscles to relax a little before looking at Garrood for some indication as to where Alan Westwood was. Garrood nodded in the direction of the brick building, “He's behind there.”
When Tyler reached the top, she was instructed to come with him but to keep her distance. She nodded her approval and fell into line as they walked across the roof. The gravel that had once been stuck down with roofing tar had been worked loose and made a crunching sound as they walked across it. With no way of arriving unannounced, Reed shouted, “Alan! Alan, it's the police!”
There was no reply.
Reed walked a large arc around the brick hut to try and improve his field of vision; Alan Westwood was sat with his back against the wall that surrounded the roof's edge. His head was hung low, looking down between his slightly parted legs.
“Alan, it's DI Reed. Are you OK?”
Alan didn't move a muscle. Reed wondered if he had drunk himself unconscious, “Alan?”
“I heard you the first time.” Alan said but didn't look up. He was dressed in blue jeans, a red t-shirt and black shoes. His words were slightly slurred.
“Your wife is worried about you.” Reed said for want of a better opening gambit.
“She always worries. Always fussing about nothing. Ever since Tina was killed, she treats me like the flaming child in the family.”
Tyler appeared at the opposite side of the brick building as Reed moved closer to Alan. “This must be a difficult time for both of you.”
Without speaking, Alan rose to his feet with a slow caution of somebody who had been drinking and wasn't sure of the effects. There was a half empty bottle of whisky sat by the wall. Alan steadied himself before looking at Reed. Then, with a quickness that was totally unexpected, Alan charged, making up the three metres or so between them, he wrapped his hands around Reed's throat before there was time to react. They both tumbled to the floor, Alan letting the body beneath him break the fall so he could keep his grip on Reed's throat. Their eyes were locked. Reed's filled with fear, Alan's with hatred.
Alan's face was red with rage as he shouted, “You have no fucking idea how hard it is!”
Reed felt the alcohol smelling air hiss across his face as the words came out. Spittle hitting his skin. Tyler came into view over Alan's shoulder with her police baton raised.
“Get off him. Now!”
Alan didn't look at Tyler. He didn't release his grip either, his skin and eyes were now a matching shade of crimson, anger still flowing through his veins and his eyes bloodshot from drink. Reed guessed he must
have had a similar complexion too through a lack of oxygen, as though one of the men was looking into a mirror.
“Now!” Tyler shouted as she shook the telescopic baton to its full, attacking length.
Alan slowly eased his grip. He laboured to a standing position without taking his eyes off the man now hacking and coughing below him, a man who was now gripping at his own throat giving the impression that he had somehow enjoyed the pressure there. Alan retreated to his bottle of whisky and took a greedy gulp. Reed, just as greedily, filled his lungs with air.
After the oxygen had returned to Reed's bloodstream, he stood up and dusted himself down, he walked over to the wall where Alan was standing, leaving a few metres between them, not wanting to crowd him. Both men sat in silence and Reed took in the view; off to the left was Thetford town centre which appeared as an enlarged maze, the tip of the church's peak was around eye level and the sudden sense of height made him feel slightly dizzy. In complete contrast, over to the right, the edge of Thetford Forest was laid out like a lush green canvass, not yet painted with buildings. Bridging the gap between the two areas was a mixture of housing estates and industrial buildings.
“Can I have a sip?” Reed asked, nodding towards the bottle of whiskey.
Alan held it out for Reed to take, which after taking a few steps closer, he did, before retreating to a safe distance again. He turned to Tyler and gave her a shrug. He hated whiskey, all spirits actually. Taking a pretend sip, he placed the bottle down by his own feet and hoped Alan would forget about it.
“This is all I have now. This job.” Alan said, gesturing at his immediate surroundings with his hands.
“I know it won't bring Tina back Mr. Westwood, but I believe we're close to catching her killer. There are undeniable connections between her case and the recent murder of Carmella Chapman. Maybe that will finally give you closure. You and your wife.”
“It's been ten years. Ten. I've had hope before detective, for a long time I had hope and when that begins to fade it leaves nothing but pain.”
Reed couldn't begin to understand how Alan was feeling so he said nothing. He hoped Alan would talk it through at his own pace and then they could all go home.
“Don't give me hope Detective. It's a killer itself. A slow killer. All this that has happened recently, it's stirred up hope again and it's not worth it, I know that now.” Alan pushed himself away from the wall and took a few steps towards Reed and picked up the whisky bottle. Reed felt ashamed that he had backed away as Alan approached, maintaining a safe distance.
“I can give you hope, what I won't do is promise you anything. There is hope, it's backed up with facts now, there's new evidence.”
Alan swilled the last of the whisky around the bottle before putting it to his mouth and finishing it off. He then leaned over the wall and let go of the bottle, watching its journey with curious interest. After a few seconds there was the satisfying sound of glass hitting concrete.
“So tell me Detective, what is this new evidence?”
“We have DNA evidence that we recovered from an earring. I was on my way to investigate it further when I got a phone call saying I was needed here.”
“You can't offer me anything.” Alan said, his voice was more sombre now.
Reed thought about telling him that they had found Tina's earring where Carmella was killed and that another person's DNA had been detected. But he couldn't. Nobody knew how it got there or why. It would be false hope.
Alan hitched himself up and sat his bum on the wall, taking a nervous look over his shoulder. Reed took the opportunity to shoot a questioning look in Tyler's direction. What should we do? Tyler shook her head to indicate she didn't know either.
Reed heard a siren in the distance and hoped that it wasn’t heading towards them. He didn’t want to spook Alan in to anything. Tyler removed her phone and walked away a little. So she was dealing with the siren, leaving Reed to deal with Alan. Fantastic.
“Alan, I know your wife is worried about you, how's about we take you home and talk this through?”
Alan turned his head back towards Reed in a slow, measured way, “So you can arrest me?”
“No. I have no need to arrest you, this will all be forgotten about as soon as we get down from here and we can get you home.” Reed said, noticing how Alan was now swaying even though he was sitting down. His words slurring into one another.
“You won't arrest me. You didn't arrest anyone for my daughter's murder. I doubt you'll arrest anyone for Carmella’s murder. That's the problem. Nothing happens. It never does. I fully trust you won't arrest me.”
Reed could feel droplets of sweat running down his back. Dust and grime had stuck to his skin after his little tussle with Alan. He needed a bath.
“I believe you... and that's the whole point.” Alan said quietly.
“You can believe me. I have no need to arrest you and I believe we are so close to catching this killer. There is real hope this time Alan. There is evidence linking the two murders.”
“I don't mean I believe you have new important evidence or that there really is hope. I believe you won't arrest me. You don't get it do you? There isn't going to be an arrest for anything.” Alan said.
“I don't understand Alan.”
“No arrests! It's happened all over again and still no arrest. Don't you think the police should have caught the killer the first time around? If you had, then Carmella would still be alive.” Alan gave the impression that he'd gained all self-control again. His body had stopped swaying. His words were clear as he spat them out.
Reed didn't say anything. He couldn't. Something was happening in his stomach which made him feel sick. How had he missed it? He held Alan's gaze, waiting for the words to come spilling out.
“The blunt instrument to the head; no sexual assault; the girls were about the same age; they happened in the same area; the bleach on the bodies.” Alan counted out each point on his fingers as he spoke. “The bleach!” He shouted. “Don’t you think the similarities were a little too fucking emphasised?”
Alan started to sob. His head dropping and bouncing around with his cries. Reed thought about lunging for him. Only problem was, any momentum could take them both over the wall. Alan was drunk, he might flinch or panic and fall over the side all by himself. The options were very limited. After a few seconds, Alan wiped his face and composed himself a little.
“A whole bottle of bleach. Talk about a calling card.” Alan shook his head, “Come and get me! Come and get me!” He made an infant’s voice and waved his hands, “I'm over here.” He dragged out the last word as though playing a game.
Reed was so focused that he had developed tunnel vision. He couldn't see Tyler anymore. He could only hear the noise from Alan's mouth. He didn't hear the birds singing in the summer sun. He didn't hear what happened to the police siren. Did it come close or had it disappeared into the distance? Or had Tyler got the message through to shut up. He didn't dare to take his eyes off of Alan, he couldn't risk trying to locate Tyler.
“Only I didn't want you to come and get me!”
Parts of this messed up jigsaw were starting to fall into place now. Whitehead had been right. Reed was useless. This scenario had never crossed his mind.
“I wanted you to get my Tina's killer. Carmella, she was messing around with boys in their cars, out till all hours. She disgusted me. My Tina wouldn't have done those things. She didn't deserve to die. I wanted the case reopened but you think it's the same the killer. It's not.”
Reed's heart was thumping. Alan was right, they had begun to think it was the same killer. That's what Alan had wanted them to think and now it had backfired on both of them.
“Alan, people will understand why you've done this. We can still find Tina's killer. Please, let's just get down from here.”
“I'm so sorry for her parents. At least they'll know who done it and why. Susan will understand too.”
“Alan, please.” Tyler shouted from somewhere.
/>
“I'm sorry. So sorry. I just wanted my Tina's killer caught. Nothing was happening.” Alan whispered. Then he locked eyes with Reed. He stopped crying for a second.
“I need to see my Tina.”
With a push of strength, Alan flipped himself backwards like a scuba diver from a boat.
Reed stood static as Tyler came running past him. He closed his eyes to try and block the whole thing out. Then he heard the inevitable dull thump.
Chapter 19
“We believe you were with Tina the day she died. We have a statement from somebody who is willing to testify in court that you were involved in her death and we have DNA evidence which backs that up. I'm going to give you one chance and one chance only to explain what happened that day. If I think you're lying in any way, I will arrest you right now for the murder of Tina Westwood.” Reed said.
He was sat next to Tyler in interview Room 7. Opposite them was the man Reed believed was responsible for Tina Westwood's death all those years ago. To some extent, the same person was also responsible for Carmella Chapman's murder and Alan Westwood's suicide. There had been a knock-on effect from Tina's death, much like the ripples that are formed when a stone is thrown into a lake. Small waves form and move away from the point of impact, growing out of control until the circular wave finally hits the banks of the lake and crashes to a stop. The waves from Tina's death had traveled for many years before they crashed, but when they did, it had affected more people than was necessary. It had all happened because of one man's lies.
That man was now weeping uncontrollably as they waited for him to compose himself and tell the truth. Reed felt very little sympathy for someone who, although may have been younger and scared at the time, had composed himself enough to cover his tracks and live a lie for ten years, causing suffering to various people for much longer than any jail term.
