Taken aback by this turn of events, he realised he must do something to placate her. He began by asking if she had voiced her concerns to any of their other friends, or even the police. These enquiries drew a negative response although he noticed that she visibly recoiled at the mention of the police. After a few more minutes, during which time she appeared to become much more composed, he leaned across his desk and spoke softly to her, “Theresa, you must listen to me. First of all, just because you haven’t had any recent contact with Bridget it doesn’t mean that you can automatically assume she’s been murdered, and somehow the police are involved. Think of it this way. Why on earth should a man, with some twenty years service in the force, risk throwing it all away by murdering a person whom he persuaded to commit perjury? Really it doesn’t make sense. To me, it seems his most obvious way out would be to brazen out all these allegations in the hope that our appeal will fail, and this will all die a natural death. I think you’ll find your friend Bridget is every bit as afraid as you are and she’s decided to go away for a few days. Once she’s sorted herself out, there’s is no doubt in my mind that she’ll get in touch with us. Why don’t you do the same thing? Take off for a couple of days, keep it to yourself where you decide to stay, and give me a ring at the office each day to let me know you are safe and well.”
Theresa dried her eyes once more then, with her voice barely above a whisper she replied, “To you, no doubt that makes a great deal of sense, but I can’t see it the same way because I’ve also received this. She paused for a moment before pulling out a brown crumpled envelope from her pocket. From it she extracted a small typed letter, addressed to herself from the Chief Constable’s Office stating, “Following a review of your recent arrest for possession of a small amount of a controlled substance, the authorities have decided not to prosecute in this instance, and they will deal with the matter by the issue of a caution. Should any further offences of this nature be committed, this offence will then be taken into consideration.”
“Mr. Mulrooney, I received that letter the Tuesday morning after I last saw Bridget. You can see if she received a similar letter, and she should have done, surely she would have been in touch with me? This is simply that lying bent copper trying to cover his tracks, thinking if we’re not charged, then there’s nothing to be afraid of and there’s no need for her to admit her evidence was false. What you don’t seem to appreciate is now she has even more reason to be afraid! Just suppose Westy comes along, after I’ve left her, and he tells her he wants a quick word. He tells her she’s got no need to get into the car if she doesn’t want and he gives her a copy of this letter addressed to her. Once she’s read it she’s no longer suspicious, and she might even have accepted an offer of a lift home.”
Brushing aside Michael’s attempt to interrupt, she continued, “When I went to her house later that day, there was no sign of a letter to Bridget similar to the one I received. Now, I’ll bet you, if you telephone the station you’ll find they did send one out. No Mr. Mulrooney, you’re quite wrong, Bridget’s dead and I am going to take your advice and disappear. You can rest assured that I will keep in touch, and whatever happens now I’ll still testify for the defence.” With that she picked up her handbag and proceeded to make her way out.
Michael managed to get to the door first in order to let her know he would notify the local police of her disappearance, and he would also ask about the issue of a caution to Bridget. Urging Theresa to take care and, stressing the need to keep in touch, he closed the door quietly behind her.
Once she had left, he telephoned the Bootle police station to alert them regarding the disappearance of Bridget; then he telephoned Merseyside police headquarters, from where he ascertained it was recorded that a caution had been issued and sent by post to Bridget Riley.
A further telephone call was made to Irene Yarwood. She greeted the news of the disappearance with some dismay because, coming on top of the new forensic evidence, it was beginning to look that the appeal would be rejected almost out of hand.
It is often said that the best laid plans of mice and men oft times go astray. So it would prove to be in the case of Detective Sergeant West. He was feeling well pleased with himself since he had received the news of the new forensic tests. Although it opened up new and exciting possibilities concerning the Wilson and Clarkson cases, settling both matters without leaving room for any doubt regarding Thompson’s guilt, he kept telling himself it was indeed a pity the news had not come through a few days earlier. Had it done so, he might not have had to kill Bridget Riley. Regarding this matter, he now sought solace from his evil deed by telling himself Bridget had to go because she had told him she wouldn’t keep her mouth shut. He went over the events again in his mind. He could see her there telling him in no uncertain manner, that come what may, she’d had enough, and she was still going to go ahead with her action against him and the Merseyside force. With all his years of service behind him, he knew he couldn’t afford to allow that to happen, so there was no other option. With one swift and telling blow from a hammer, it was all over in seconds and it was goodnight Bridget. ‘Pity,’ he sighed, ‘but it just had to be.’ Now, as a result of receiving the news concerning the new forensic tests, he hadn’t gone into the office today. Instead he was enjoying a leisurely drive down to Stafford prison where he had arranged to see an old acquaintance, Royston Chambers. For him the news of the new forensic evidence could not have come at a more opportune time, and he could hardly contain his satisfaction as he drove towards the prison. All that mattered to Detective Sergeant West was matching criminals to their crimes, even if it meant, on occasions, that evidence had to be tailored a bit to ensure the perfect fit.
In this case, that no longer mattered as the end had been justified by the means. He permitted himself another smile as he whispered to himself, “easy innit” and he allowed himself to wallow in his self belief that Harry Thompson had finally been nailed as a scheming, lying, and cold blooded murderer far too incompetent to make a fool of Detective Sergeant West.
As he drove his face wreathed in smiles at the prospect of confronting that old lag Chambers with this latest development, he told himself this would ensure that Chambers toed the line, and now he would forget everything he knew about his own evidence being made up. He was back to his old buoyant self, savouring every moment as he glanced at the report lying on the passenger seat beside him. He told himself this really would be easy. Just let Chambers know there was now irrefutable forensic proof Thompson had killed Clarkson, and the odds were he had also murdered his girlfriend. Therefore, even if Chambers went over to the defence team, there wouldn’t be a cat in hells chance of the judges believing his retraction and that the evidence he had given in the murder trial was false. Now, he was going to tell Chambers that he truly was a spent force, and his only hope of any salvation lay in his own hands, and that it was time to do his bird, and try to get some time off for good behaviour.
He parked his car at the gaol, and presented his identification at the visitor’s gate. Once his police card had been verified, he was shown quickly inside to the office of the assistant governor.
Whilst waiting to be admitted to see Royston Chambers, he couldn’t stop his mind from dwelling on Bridget Riley. It was only temporary and he consoled himself again with the thought that, if she hadn’t threatened to cause the trouble over her own evidence, she would still be alive today. Soon back to his own self, he allowed himself another smile as the thought occurred to him that she wasn’t going to cause any more trouble for him, or anyone else, in the future. It would only be a matter of time before the body was discovered on the sand dunes at Ainsdale Beach, a local popular beauty spot and, he reasoned, it would also serve as a warning to others not to mess with Westy, even though, he knew that there would be nothing at all to connect him with the killing. He was still smiling to himself, and thinking about how easy it had been to kill her. Once the body was discovered the police would probably be looking for a homic
idal maniac, with a pathological hatred of prostitutes. When the assistant governor entered and after a quick drink and a talk about prisoners and prison life in general, it was time to go and see arch criminal Chambers.
When the door of the interview room opened to admit the prisoner, Royston Chambers could see at once that this was not a meeting he was going to enjoy. Detective Sergeant West greeted him in a very curt and abrupt manner. He lost no time telling him that, as a result of new evidence, they now had positive proof Harry Thompson was the killer of Angela Clarkson. He then went on to say, although he couldn’t stop Chambers from lodging an appeal, there was absolutely no chance that he would offer any assistance. This was because, with this new evidence against Thompson it didn’t seem possible that any judge in the land would believe the story that he, Chambers, had made it all up. “Face facts son,” he said, “they will bloody well laugh at you and accuse you of inventing this story just to see if you can get some time off. Well take a tip from me, Roy, just go and forget the whole thing. Before I leave, let me tell you that the only time I want to come down here again is to hear you, telling me, that you’ve got some hot tips for me. Then, I might be persuaded to try to do something for you. Do I make myself clear?”
Royston Chambers nodded and silently watched as Detective Sergeant West walked triumphantly out of the interview room whispering, “Easy Innit!”
Timothy Harris was seated in the sumptuous office of Jerome Jerome the senior partner of Jerome Woolff and Solomon. He was also feeling pleased with himself, despite the news of the recent death of his son. Today he intended to ask his legal team to drop the divorce proceedings against his wife. It wasn’t a change of heart; it was more a case of saving himself the fees involved. A couple of days ago, whilst alone in his flat with a large brandy in hand he realised that, if he went to court and requested permission to switch off his wife’s support systems, then there was no need for costly divorce proceedings, and he would be free to enjoy life as a single man again. He, too, permitted himself a wry smile as he savoured the prospect, whilst cursing himself for not thinking of pursuing the matter earlier. The thought never occurred to him that this avenue might have been denied him had Anthony been alive at the time.
Jerome Jerome looked straight at his client; he began on a cautious note, “I can understand what you are saying Timothy, but first of all, you will have to get the divorce proceedings cancelled. After which I would advocate you leave things for a little while, as I don’t want us to be in a position where we go before the judge to ask permission to switch off whilst it is still in the eye and the mind of the public that you have been in the process of divorcing your wife. You do understand don’t you, adverse publicity and all that. He sat back in his chair in order to allow his comments to sink in, but Timothy was unmoved, and he steadfastly refused to be swayed by such reason as he replied, “Under normal circumstances, I would agree with you, but I hardly think these are normal circumstances. First, consider this, over the past few months I’ve hardly been out of the public eye, or the press, with one thing or another. You know the allegations, the libel trial, the death of my parliamentary secretary, my divorce action, the illness of my wife, and most recently the tragic death of my son. Therefore, do you not think it feasible that I might still receive more than my share of the sympathy vote from the general public?”
Again Jerome looked straight at his man and said, “that may well be, but what if the judge views this action as a means for you to be rid of your long-suffering wife, rather than go through with your divorce action? Also, remember this, if you were divorced, then this course of action would not be open to you would it?” As Jerome anticipated, the question hit home hard and he noticed the immediate change in his client’s facial expression and posture.
At first Timothy merely nodded, as he studied the implications of the last question, then, in a rather abrupt but assertive manner, he issued his instructions as follows, “I don’t think I have much choice, because it’s quite possible my wife could die at any moment. In which case my position would be unchanged. Secondly, I could have the support systems switched off which leaves me in exactly the same position. Or I can sit back, let my wife suffer in her silent world, secure in the knowledge that, if the positions were reversed, my wife would be doing everything possible to relieve me from misery and any pain and suffering. On the whole, I don’t think I have a great deal of choice and I reckon I should take my chances and go for it. If, for any reason it doesn’t come off, then I shall have to review the divorce procedure again.”
Jerome Jerome finished the notes he’d been scribbling which contained his client’s wishes, and the interview concluded.
Chapter 23
* * *
The discovery of the body of Bridget Riley amongst the sand hills at Ainsdale beach made the headlines in all the national press. Following the discovery it soon became known that it was the body of Bridget Riley, the prostitute who had given evidence for the crown in the double murder trial involving Harry Thompson at Liverpool not so long ago. Once it became known she had been killed with a blow to the head, probably caused by a hammer or a similar heavy instrument, the speculation that she had been killed by a pathological maniac with a hatred of prostitutes, started in earnest. Naturally, this in turn conjured up visions of the Yorkshire ripper, and whilst the police appealed for the public to remain calm, nevertheless, there was a lot of disquiet amongst those other girls similarly engaged in the profession.
The news was particularly distressing for Theresa O’Rourke although she did stick to her promise to keep in touch with Michael Mulrooney.
For Timothy Harris, time simply flew because of his involvement with so many things. He had attended the inquest on his son’s death where the coroner had recorded an open verdict following the medical evidence which concluded that death had occurred as the result of a drug overdose, probably caused by a combination of the drugs he had injected and the use of another drug called Roacutane. This latter drug had been prescribed by his own doctor for the treatment of a chronic acne condition. At the time, the hearing made banner headlines in the press but as Timothy Harris was keeping as low a profile as possible, the press soon had to find something else to target. In addition, the dropping of his divorce action aroused so little interest it wasn’t worth bothering about. Gradually, he set about socialising a little more frequently whilst looking forward each day to some news about the court action to switch off his wife’s support system.
Following her meeting with Michael Mulrooney, Irene Yarwood had arranged a hurried meeting with Harry Thompson at Strangeways prison. She was ushered straight into the sparsely furnished ward where he was still being kept under medical observation.
Harry broke the ice saying, “hello I wasn’t expecting to see you and noting the expression on her face, added, “I can see something’s bothering you so, I think you’d better get it off your chest then, hadn’t you?”
Irene nodded and said, “Listen very carefully now to what I have to say, and think very carefully before you answer any questions. Before we go further, let me tell you that I don’t want any bullshit, just the plain honest truth, no matter how bad it is, or how much it hurts. In one week’s time, we are due in court to try to overturn the Clarkson verdict. This appeal started off quite badly at first as we were not able to get this appeal heard on its own. Then, we managed to find a witness who was prepared to testify she had been asked to give false evidence at your trial, and we were able to follow this up by getting Bridget Riley to admit she gave false evidence concerning the watch you found. In addition, we also had the prospect of Royston Chambers admitting your confession was nothing more than a figment of his own imagination. With all of this, can you possibly imagine how we felt knowing full well that it would be almost impossible to lose? Whilst she was talking she noted, with interest, the look of astonishment on his face. It was as if he couldn’t believe that, finally, his luck might be changing. However the smile on his face soon d
isappeared as she continued, “unfortunately however, it was too good to last, because somebody threw a spanner in the works and Bridget Riley disappeared. Although we thought we could cope with that, we now know that she has been murdered, and that’s something we were not in the least prepared for, neither for one moment, did we reckon on anything like this.”
She paused for a while in order to take out the latest forensic report, then she proceeded to spit the words out with increasing venom and animosity. “This is a forensic report of a DNA test, carried out on semen stains removed from the clothing of Angela Clarkson and Diane Wilson. According to the expert who carried out those tests, this DNA matches yours. I need hardly tell you, Harry, even if Chambers agrees to testify, no judge in his right mind will believe him now.”
She saw the colour drain from his face. She noticed with interest the change in his facial expression, together with his whole body language. To her eyes this was unreal. Here she was, watching him going into a state of shock with disbelief at what she was saying, and again, she found herself thinking if this is an act, then without doubt he should be on the stage. She brought herself back to reality in an instant snapping at him. “you told me that you had never been near this girl let alone with her, but this proves otherwise. Harry, can’t you see, once this evidence is presented in court it’s all over! The whole case is compromised, you are as good as finished. So now, let’s concentrate on the job in hand. We will start with you telling me right from the start all about your involvement with this girl.”
Beyond Innocence Page 22
