by Sally Rigby
They hurried up the stairs to Vaughan’s office.
Whitney gave two sharp knocks on the door. ‘Come in,’ a male voice answered.
They walked in and were faced with Vaughan sitting behind a desk. A very ordinary looking man in his mid-thirties, with mousey-brown hair cut in a traditional short back and sides style. He certainly didn’t give the impression of being a manipulative serial killer, but appearances were often deceptive.
‘Yes?’ He smiled at them.
‘DCI Walker and Dr Cavendish,’ Whitney said. ‘We were hoping you could help us.’
‘Certainly. Please sit down.’ He gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk.
‘We’ve come about the recent student murders,’ Whitney said.
George kept her eyes firmly fixed on Vaughan’s face, looking for any tell twitches, nervous movements. Anything to signify his unease.
‘It’s dreadful. I did know the two students, as I’ve already told your officer.’
‘Three,’ Whitney said.
‘There’s been another?’ he asked, blinking several times. ‘That’s dreadful.’
‘Agreed. Also, like the other two students, she was a member of Godwin College.’
‘Who’s the third one?’ he asked, shaking his head slowly.
‘I’m sorry, we can’t disclose that at the moment. Not until her family has been informed.’
‘Of course. I totally understand. How can I help?’ he asked, seeming to recover slightly.
‘We wondered if you’d come to the station with us? We’d like to ask you some questions.’
‘Any chance we can do it here, as I have a meeting to go to in half an hour?’
‘It would be easier if you could come with us.’ Whitney smiled at him. ‘We’d like to run some things by you, photographs, CCTV, etc. We can wait until after your meeting, if that helps?’
She glanced at Whitney. Her relaxed demeanour meant alarm bells wouldn’t be ringing for the suspect. A good call on her part.
‘I could send my apologies. I doubt anyone will miss me,’ Vaughan said.
‘We really appreciate it. Thank you. We’ll wait for you outside in the corridor.’
They left Vaughan making a call about the meeting.
‘I’m impressed,’ she said to Whitney.
‘About what?’
‘The way you handled Vaughan. Offering to wait until after the meeting gave the impression you valued his input and suspecting him was far from your thoughts.’ She nodded her head appreciatively.
‘Thanks.’
Had Whitney just blushed slightly? Maybe she wasn’t used to having compliments thrown her way. Interesting.
‘What did you make of him?’ she asked.
‘I was about to ask you the same,’ Whitney replied.
‘He’s definitely hiding something. His body language was a dead giveaway. Did you notice his rapid blinking? That can indicate stress, in particular from lying, because he was trying to be careful about what he said.’
‘Really. I was thinking how relaxed he came across. He didn’t look at all guilty to me.’
‘You’d be amazed what you can tell from the tiniest of twitches. The slightest body movements. Or lack of movement, which can be just as important. When someone is totally rigid, it’s often because they’re forcing themselves to appear calm and in control.’
‘Well, now it’s up to me to get a confession out of him. I’d like you to watch from outside. I’ll wear an earpiece, so you can advise me on areas of questioning based on his responses.’
At last Whitney seemed to be valuing her input.
‘I’d love to. Thanks.’
‘I’m not doing this to be nice. There’s a lot hanging on it, and we can’t afford to fuck up.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
George stood by the window of the interview room. Whitney and Matt were sitting opposite Kevin Vaughan. She was wearing headphones so she could hear what was being said and a mic to speak to Whitney in her earpiece.
‘Can we get you a cup of tea or coffee?’ Whitney asked Vaughan.
‘No, thanks. I’m fine,’ he replied. ‘Is this going to take long?’
Whitney flashed him a smile. ‘I hope not.’
Yet again, Whitney’s manner was impressive. She was putting him at ease. Great job. She’d like to have said something in the earpiece to that effect, but she doubted it would go down well. She’d already complimented her earlier, and if she did it again Whitney would probably interpret it as George being condescending towards her.
It was fascinating to be involved in real police work. So far, most of the work she’d done was theoretical. Apart from the few times she’d worked with inmates at a local prison, when doing her research.
Several times throughout her career, she’d considered going into private practice, but changed her mind as she enjoyed researching and teaching so much and really didn’t have the business acumen to call on. She’d heard of several psychologists who’d lost their livelihood because of neglecting the business side of their practice. She didn’t want that to happen to her.
‘Good, I really can’t spare much time.’ Vaughan’s response cut across George’s thoughts. He moved awkwardly in his seat.
‘He’s getting anxious,’ she said into the mic. ‘Maybe regrets agreeing to come in to talk.’
‘Mr Vaughan. Kevin. Do you mind if we record our conversation? It’s so much easier than taking notes,’ Whitney asked.
‘No. That’s fine,’ he replied.
‘Thank you.’ Whitney opened the wrappers of two discs and loaded them into the recording equipment. She pressed the record button, speaking after the alarm had finished. ‘DCI Whitney Walker, DS Matthew Price, and Kevin Vaughan. Interview. November twenty-fifth. Mr Vaughan. You’re Junior Dean in Godwin College. Please could you explain what that involves?’
‘I look after the pastoral care of all students in the college, especially the first years,’ Vaughan stated.
‘So, you’re responsible for over two thousand students? That’s a lot.’ Whitney sat back in her chair, looking relaxed.
George approved of her non-threatening approach.
‘Not all of them. There are three of us, and we all live on-site in the college. As I’ve mentioned, we mainly deal with welfare concerns. We’re also there to ensure they behave properly when they’re in the college and ensure noise is kept to a minimum, especially after the college bar closes. We work with security, too, if there are any issues.’ Vaughan nodded.
‘The girls who were murdered—Millie Carter and Olivia Griffin—how well did you know them?’ Whitney asked.
Vaughan sat ramrod straight, a sure sign to George he was trying his hardest to concentrate and come across as being truthful. It was an interesting change in his demeanour and likely indicated he was hiding something.
‘They’re in Godwin College. I remember them during their first years. They were both friendly and good students. Neither of them caused any problems.’
‘Interesting he remembers them in such detail,’ George said into the mic.
‘Do you remember all of your students? Or just the girls?’ Whitney asked, leaning in slightly and resting her arms on the table.
‘I don’t remember every student who comes into the college. I just happen to remember Millie and Olivia,’ Vaughan replied.
‘Why’s that, do you think? What about them was memorable?’ Whitney asked.
Vaughan’s face gave very little away, apart from a slight pink tinge to his cheeks, and even then, she wasn’t sure whether it was just the light.
‘Nothing I can put my finger on. I remember lots of students, just not all of them,’ he replied.
‘What did you think when you found out they’d been murdered?’ Whitney asked.
‘I was shocked and devastated, of course. The same as everyone else in the college. How else would I react? Why are you asking me these questions?’
‘Ask him about Poppy.’ Geo
rge needed them to press him more, so she could study his reactions when under pressure.
‘How well did you know Poppy Brooks?’ Whitney asked.
Vaughan frowned. ‘The name rings a bell. Is she in Godwin?’
He was being too slick. Frowning at the right time. Trying to appear concerned.
‘I thought you knew all the students. Especially the girls,’ Whitney said, her tone a lot less relaxed.
‘I’ve already said I don’t know all of them,’ Vaughan replied. ‘Do I need a solicitor?’
‘Why do you think that?’ Whitney answered.
‘This questioning. It’s like you’re accusing me of something.’
‘Mr Vaughan, as I said earlier, we just need your help. If you’d rather have legal representation, that’s your right. But I don’t understand why you’d think it necessary, unless you have something to hide.’
‘I don’t have anything to hide,’ Vaughan said.
His fists were clenched in his lap. ‘I disagree,’ she said to Whitney, who gave an almost imperceptible nod of the head.
‘Good. So, shall we continue?’ Whitney asked.
‘Yes,’ he agreed.
‘Returning to Poppy Brooks. You don’t remember her?’
‘I’m not sure. Is she the third victim? You said you couldn’t tell me who she was until her family had been notified.’
‘I can’t say. Are you sure you don’t remember her?’
‘I’m not certain. There are a lot of students in Godwin, as you’ve already pointed out.’
‘Yet you clearly remember Millie and Olivia, who haven’t even been living in the college for two years,’ Whitney persisted.
Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He really was a contradiction. On the one hand, his body language was showing he was lying. The way he was concentrating so hard on looking like he was in control. And then he was displaying the characteristics of someone who wasn’t lying but anxious in case he wasn’t believed.
‘It isn’t adding up. He’s definitely hiding something. I can’t be sure it’s to do with the murders. But I can’t be sure it isn’t, either.’ She could tell from the way Whitney tensed, she wasn’t happy with her comments, but she had to tell it as she saw it. ‘Show him Poppy’s photo,’ she added.
‘Here’s a photo of Poppy Brooks.’ Whitney slid the photo across the table. ‘Please look and see if you recognise her.’
Vaughan stared at the image for a few seconds and then slowly nodded his head. ‘I may have seen her. Yes.’
‘You may? What does that mean exactly?’
‘She definitely looks familiar. But I wouldn’t have known her name if you hadn’t told me.’
‘Thank you,’ Whitney said.
‘Can I go now?’ he asked.
‘Kevin. Please could you tell me what you were doing between two and four in the afternoon of Sunday the third and between one and three in the morning of Monday the eighteenth?’
‘Why?’ he asked.
‘We’re asking this of everyone who comes in to help. Just to eliminate them from our enquiries. It’s standard procedure.’
Vaughan looked upwards to the right, indicating he was thinking. Was it fake or genuine? It depended on how clever he was. If he knew a little about body language, it was a basic tell-tale sign which he could use.
‘On the Sunday, I’d been to the garden centre to pick up a plant for Moira’s birthday. She works in the admin office. I got back home around two-thirty, I think.’
‘Can anyone vouch for you?’ Whitney asked.
‘I might be able to find my receipt from the garden centre. Other than that, no. I live alone.’
‘What about Monday the eighteenth?’ Whitney asked.
‘I was home in bed. It was the middle of the night. No one would be able to vouch for me,’ Vaughan answered.
‘Thank you. Tell me, Kevin, do you have a girlfriend?’ Whitney asked.
A flush crept up Vaughan’s cheeks, and he looked down at the table. ‘Not at the moment,’ he replied.
‘When was the last time you had one?’ Whitney asked.
Vaughan coughed. ‘I don’t remember.’
‘How can you not remember?’ Whitney pushed.
She edged closer to the window. ‘You’re onto something. Keep on with this line of questioning.’
‘It was a while ago,’ Vaughan finally said.
‘Please could you give me the name of your last girlfriend?’ Whitney smiled sweetly at him.
‘Why?’ Vaughan asked, his flush getting deeper.
‘Just for the record,’ Whitney replied.
Vaughan stood up and placed both hands on the table. ‘Look. I agreed to come in to help you, and now you’re treating me like a suspect. I don’t have to take this. I want to leave.’
‘Please sit down, Kevin. You have every right to leave. But I’d advise against it. At the moment, you’re here voluntarily, but if you insist on leaving, I might have to arrest you.’
‘On what charge?’ He remained standing, glaring at Whitney.
‘Let’s put it this way. You have links to the victims and won’t discuss them with us, which means you’re obstructing a police investigation. So, it’s up to you. Stay here voluntarily or I’ll be forced to arrest you for obstruction, and then we can hold you for questioning for at least forty-eight hours.’ Whitney sat back in her chair.
‘I want a solicitor. I’m not saying another word until I get one.’ He sat back down.
‘That’s your right. Do you have one in mind?’ Whitney asked.
‘I don’t know anyone,’ Vaughan said.
‘Would you like us to call one for you?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ Vaughan replied.
‘Okay. Wait here. Interview terminated at fourteen hundred hours.’ Whitney switched off the recording. ‘DS Price, please contact a solicitor for Mr Vaughan.’
She left the interview room and joined George by the window.
‘What do you think?’ Whitney asked.
She slipped off her headphones. ‘You certainly put him on the back foot. He’s hiding something, for sure. Whether it’s the murders, I don’t know. He fits the profile and appears strong enough to lift the girls and take them to their resting places. He clearly has problems with relationships. It all fits.’
‘Agreed. Our application for a warrant to search his flat has been approved on the grounds it might contain evidence relating to the case. We’re going now.’
‘Can I come?’ she asked, keen to see where he lived and what his flat was like. She’d hazard a guess it would be immaculate. Everything put away and kept perfectly tidy. She wouldn’t be at all surprised if he even kept his books and CDs in alphabetical order.
‘We don’t need you, thanks. You get back to work. I’ll let you know how we get on.’ Whitney turned and left the room, leaving George staring at her retreating back.
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘Yes.’ Whitney punched the air. ‘We’ve got him.’
The digital forensic unit had forwarded hundreds of images of women taken from bondage websites, which were on the laptop they’d seized from Kevin Vaughan’s flat. He also had photos of students on there, including both Millie and Olivia. Not Poppy, but that didn’t worry her. He was their guy; she was convinced of it.
She’d debated phoning George to let her know the outcome, then decided to do it later, once they had the confession. She didn’t want to keep interrupting her, in case it got her in trouble at work. She was perfectly capable of interviewing Vaughan on her own, without George’s help. She’d managed to secure hundreds of convictions over her career, and this would be no different.
‘Matt, come with me. We’re off to nail the bastard,’ she said as she passed his desk.
‘Coming, guv,’ Matt replied.
Before they left the incident room, she asked Ellie to print off some of the photos found on Vaughan’s laptop, including the two of the victims.
They walked to the interview r
oom in silence while she ran through in her mind her plan for the interview. Before entering, she drew in a long calming breath. As much as she wanted to swing for him, she couldn’t. This had to be played by the book, and she wouldn’t deviate. Having said that, she would go in soft and then hit him hard.
She pushed open the door and saw Vaughan’s solicitor sitting beside him.
‘About time, too,’ the solicitor said. ‘My client has been here for over four hours.’
‘Sorry to keep you waiting. We were searching Mr Vaughan’s flat.’
‘What?’ Vaughan exploded. ‘You can’t do that.’ He turned to his solicitor. ‘She can’t do that, can she?’
‘I assume you had a search warrant?’ the solicitor asked.
‘You assume right.’
‘Bu—’
‘No buts, Mr Vaughan. The search was legal.’ She sat opposite them and Matt next to her.
She placed the file on the table in front of her and prepared the recorder. She picked up the remote and pressed it. ‘This is an interview with, please state your full name.’ She nodded at Vaughan.
‘Kevin Lawrence Vaughan. And I want to say I’ve bee—’
‘We’ll get onto your comments shortly,’ she interrupted. ‘I am DCI Whitney Walker. Also present is—’ She nodded at Matt.
‘DS Matthew Price.’
‘And …’ She looked at the solicitor.
‘Timothy Anders, solicitor for Mr Vaughan.’
‘Thank you. Kevin, you stated earlier you remembered Millie Carter and Olivia Griffin from when they were first years and lived in Godwin College. Is that correct?’ she asked.
‘Yes. I’ve already told you that,’ Vaughan replied in a belligerent tone.
‘You also stated you don’t remember every student who comes into Godwin.’
‘Yes.’ Vaughan leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.
‘Would you say you remember the young women more than the young men?’
‘Not necessarily. No. Where is this heading?’
Whitney eyeballed him for a few seconds until he averted his gaze.
‘Do you take photos of the students in Godwin College and keep them?’ she continued.
