False Witness

by Michelle Davies

  ‘Really? But why do they need Poppy to see it?’

  Julia’s brain swam with confusion. See what?

  ‘Yes, I’ll get Julia to meet you there. The thing is, we’ve both had a drink so we’ll have to get a cab . . . No, really, I can’t risk it . . . Well, just a couple . . . Look, do you want to speak to her?’ Julia went to take the phone, but Cath shifted awkwardly so it remained out of reach. ‘Fine, I’ll tell her.’ She hung up.

  ‘You’re never going to believe this, but the police have found some clothing covered in blood near to where Benji fell and now they think there’s another body buried on the building site. The police have taken Poppy up to the school so she can tell them if she remembers seeing the clothes when she and Benji were on the wall. Ewan wants you to meet them there.’

  Julia snapped out of her post-sick slouch.

  ‘I’ll walk. I need to sober up.’

  ‘A cab will be quicker. I’ll come with you.’

  ‘I’ll be fine walking.’ Julia made a move towards the back door but stumbled.

  ‘You can’t go on your own. Come on.’

  Julia went to take Cath’s outstretched hand but stopped.

  ‘Sorry, was I hearing you right? Did you really say a dead body?’

  ‘I did. The police think there might be one buried where the classrooms are being built.’

  This time Julia didn’t even make the tub.

  48

  It was a phrase he’d heard before, might’ve even used himself once or twice, but it was only now that Alan understood what ‘shocked to the core’ really meant. It was as though his insides were paralysed. He couldn’t swallow; there was no movement in his throat to enable the action, nothing he could do to trigger it.

  He’d been sitting in the same position for half an hour, on one of the low benches in the playground. In front of him a few of the teachers were milling around, Mr Lincoln among them. The deputy head was going through the motions of trying to appear in charge but his expression suggested he was incapable of stringing a sentence together. None of them could; they were in shock. Meanwhile Mrs Pullman was in her office being checked over by a first aider: when she’d heard what the police dogs had found, the head teacher collapsed and had to be helped inside.

  The bloodstained clothes had been bundled in a carrier bag and jammed into the foundations. From what Alan had gleaned by eavesdropping, the garments definitely belonged to a woman and now the police were going to excavate the site because the way the dogs had reacted suggested there might be a body nearby. The dogs had only been able to recover the bag because the foundations were partly accessible – the concrete floor that would seal them beneath the classrooms had yet to be poured in and set. There was talk of them ripping the wall down as well.

  Someone sat down next to him and with a jolt he saw it was Gus.

  ‘What the fuck is going on?’ he asked Alan in an undertone.

  ‘They found some bloodstained clothes. They think there’s a body buried,’ said Alan, keeping his voice to a whisper as well.

  ‘How did they know the stuff was there?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘They probably think it’s something to do with you.’

  Alan glared at him. ‘You what?’

  ‘A kid falls off a wall and dies. Three days later, bloodied clothes are found in the same place. Who has the most after-hours access? The school’s site manager. You.’

  ‘I don’t know anything about the clothes.’

  ‘But you know about the fire, don’t you, Alan? I know it was you and I am very, very upset,’ said Gus in a voice that was chillingly calm.

  It was as though someone had flicked a switch: the air evaporated from Alan’s lungs and he couldn’t breathe.

  ‘My inhaler. Pocket,’ he gasped, unable to move to get it. Gus retrieved it for him, then glanced round to see if anyone was watching. Satisfied nobody was, he pressed his thumb down once on the metal canister, and there was a long hiss as the vapour disappeared into thin air. Alan’s eyes bulged in horror as he desperately tried to catch his breath.

  ‘No, don’t,’ he wheezed.

  ‘I’m just making certain you understand what’s at stake here, Alan,’ said Gus, giving the canister another burst. ‘If you mention my name to the police in any way, a bit of breathlessness will be the least of your worries.’

  Gus got to his feet and tossed the inhaler onto the ground as he walked away, leaving Alan scrabbling to reach it.

  49

  Poppy Hepworth’s composure was remarkable for a girl her age. She hadn’t been at all flustered when her dad informed her she had to accompany Maggie and Byford up to Rushbrooke, nor had she reacted when, on arriving at the school, Renshaw explained what it was they needed her to do. She’d compliantly followed Renshaw through the gap in the hoardings without so much as a backwards glance.

  Ewan Hepworth was a different matter. Clearly agitated he wasn’t allowed to chaperone his daughter on the other side of the hoardings – he was made to stay put to avoid scene contamination – he paced the playground while whispering furiously into his phone. Maggie suspected he was talking to his solicitor, who, if he was worth his fee, was presumably telling Ewan to cooperate for Poppy’s sake.

  A few metres away Byford was also on his phone. Maggie wondered who he was talking to – it can’t have been Imogen because she’d called herself to let her know they were still delayed. Except it hadn’t been Imogen who answered but Grace, keen to express her annoyance they were being made to wait around when they were desperate for an update. Maggie had apologized profusely and said they’d get there as soon as they could.

  As she watched Byford, her phone pinged to signal a received text. She opened the message without a thought, then gasped when she read it.

  Happy birthday, Auntie Maggie. We really miss u. I wish u and Mum wud make up. xoxo Jude

  Maggie was overwhelmed with delight. The message was the most unexpected birthday present she could’ve hoped for. Immediately she texted her nephew back.

  It’s SO lovely to hear from you. How are you? How are Scotty and Mae? Send them my love. I miss you all so much. I wish I could see you. Let me know how you’re doing. xxx

  Minutes ticked by but no more texts arrived. She was toying with ringing Jude when Byford appeared at her side.

  ‘I’ve got to go.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’m needed in Trenton. That case I had to go back for is about to collapse and I’ve been told to be there this afternoon to review my notes again.’

  For someone facing a work crisis Byford didn’t seem unduly troubled. Maggie wished she could be as laid-back about things.

  ‘You’ll need to let DS Renshaw know,’ she said.

  ‘She already does. ACC Bailey’s called her.’

  It must be serious if the Assistant Chief Constable was involved. Byford made no acknowledgement of the fact that Bailey was Renshaw’s boyfriend and Maggie wondered if he even knew.

  ‘Fine. I’ll call you later and let you know the latest here. Good luck. I hope you can sort it out,’ said Maggie.

  Her comment seemed to startle him.

  ‘Right . . . thanks, appreciate it.’

  A thought occurred to her. ‘How will you get back to the station to pick up your car? We came in mine.’

  ‘I’ll walk.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, I’ll drop you off, then I’ll go round to see Imogen.’ She glanced over at Ewan. ‘I don’t think there’s anything for me to do here. Someone else can chauffeur the Hepworths home.’

  As they neared her car, Maggie remembered the file that was being sent to her by social services.

  ‘You get in,’ she said, unlocking the vehicle. ‘I need to check an email first.’

  But Byford waited, watching her intently as she opened the message and scrolled down, her eyes widening as she did.

  ‘Wow, this is a turn-up,’ she said, explaining who the email was from and why they’d
asked for it. ‘The Hepworths came under the social services’ radar in 2009 after Julia had a breakdown triggered by post-natal depression and Poppy was considered at risk. There’s one specific incident that’s mentioned, which you are not going to believe,’ Maggie breathed. ‘Julia disappeared with Poppy one afternoon when the kid was about two and Ewan found them on top of the disused viaduct at Hawley Ridge, the one where they do abseiling now.’

  ‘I know it,’ said Byford, nodding.

  ‘According to this, Julia was threatening to jump off it – and she was going to take Poppy with her.’

  50

  The taxi driver stopped twice on the way to Rushbrooke so Julia could be sick. By the time they arrived at the school she had nothing left in her stomach to expel and felt marginally better for it, but her coordination was still impeded by the alcohol and when she tried to get out of the car she lost her footing and sprawled to the ground.

  Cath, no longer finding the state of her amusing, hauled her to her feet.

  ‘You’ve got to hold it together,’ she said desperately. ‘For Poppy’s sake.’

  Julia nodded and together they walked across the playground. Julia was wearing a pair of Cath’s flat-soled sandals that were two sizes too small for her feet and her heels scraped painfully against the tarmac as she walked.

  She spotted Ewan first. He was standing with a uniformed officer on the playground side of the police cordon, pensively watching the entrance to the building site. The nearer they got, Julia could see flashes of people walking past the doorway on the other side.

  ‘Where’s Poppy?’ she asked on reaching him. She had hoped she sounded more sober than she felt but Ewan’s reaction told her she’d failed.

  ‘Look at the state of you,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘What the hell are you thinking turning up here drunk?’ He swung round to vent his wrath at Cath. ‘You said it was just a couple. My wife is fucking hammered while my daughter is through there having to walk around the place where she watched another child die.’

  Cath was remarkably calm in replying. Julia, meanwhile, was fighting the feeling that the playground was tilting and was trying not to be sick again.

  ‘I’m sorry you’re upset but this is not the time to have a pop at Julia or me. We’re here now, that’s what matters.’

  ‘But it’s not even the afternoon and she’s drunk,’ said Ewan. ‘What message does that send to the police?’

  The officer near the cordon was trying and failing to pretend he wasn’t listening.

  ‘It tells them your poor wife is under a huge amount of strain at the moment. Why aren’t you with Poppy anyway?’

  ‘They wouldn’t let me be. Something about avoiding contamination of the scene.’

  Julia burst into noisy tears.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things worse.’

  ‘Take her home,’ Ewan snapped at Cath. ‘I don’t want Poppy to see her like this.’

  ‘I want to see my daughter!’ wailed Julia. ‘Where’s my baby?’

  She lurched forward to duck under the police tape but the combination of poorly fitting shoes and drunken incapacity proved too much and she went flying, knees and palms bearing the brunt of the heavy landing. As she yelped in pain DS Renshaw chose that moment to come back through the doorway with Poppy in tow.

  ‘Mum, what are you doing?’

  Julia was relieved to see Poppy hadn’t been crying. She struggled to her feet.

  ‘I can’t believe you made her go in there without one of us,’ she bawled at DS Renshaw. ‘She’s just a kid.’

  ‘I’m very well aware of Poppy’s age,’ said the officer, unmoved. ‘You can take her home now.’

  ‘Oh, we can, can we?’ Julia responded tartly. ‘That’s big of you.’

  Ewan intervened, taking Julia’s hand.

  ‘Let’s get Poppy home,’ he said. It was an order rather than a request.

  ‘Hang on,’ said Julia, shrugging her hand out of his. ‘I want to know what happens next. How long are you going to keep us in limbo?’

  ‘We’re still making inquiries,’ said Renshaw.

  Julia flung her hands skywards. ‘If I hear that one more time I’ll scream. What you’re doing is barbaric. She’s a kid and you’re letting everyone think she’s guilty.’

  ‘What would you rather us do, Mrs Hepworth? Arrest her right now? Charge her with a crime? I could do either of those things but I’m not going to because I have to be certain it’s in your daughter’s best interests.’ She stepped forward so she and Julia were practically bumping noses. ‘Let me give you some advice, Mrs Hepworth. Losing your temper like this isn’t helping your daughter one little bit. In fact, it’s making me seriously wonder how bad her home life must be when her mum’s losing her shit all the time. Like, what kind of behaviour she might be picking up. Do you see what I’m getting at?’

  Julia was stunned.

  ‘Now, if you don’t want to be arrested yourself for being drunken and disorderly, I suggest you do what your husband says and take Poppy home,’ said Renshaw. ‘I won’t warn you again.’

  51

  ‘I thought we were supposed to be your priority,’ was Grace’s opening barb, delivered before Maggie had even crossed the threshold into the house.

  ‘You are, but sometimes I have to do other tasks relating to the investigation. We don’t have finite resources, I’m afraid.’

  Imogen appeared at Grace’s shoulder.

  ‘Mum, let the poor woman come in.’

  Maggie followed them into the lounge. Imogen was wearing the orange sundress again but it no longer hugged her figure; it hung from it. The deterioration in her appearance was worrying.

  ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t get here earlier,’ she said.

  ‘Was it because of what you’ve found at the school?’ asked Imogen.

  Maggie’s brow furrowed. ‘How do you know about that?’

  ‘All the mums are texting about it. One of them said you’ve found a body,’ said Imogen anxiously. ‘It’s not another child, is it?’

  ‘So far we’ve only found items of clothing and we’re certain they don’t belong to a child.’

  Imogen sagged with relief.

  ‘We don’t need to get involved in any more nonsense,’ Grace butted in. ‘You –’ she stabbed a finger at Maggie – ‘should be concentrating on my grandson’s death. That’s what your job is, isn’t it? Being our liaison?’

  Maggie considered herself pretty robust when it came to standing up to overbearing people, having had plenty of practice with her sister among others, but there was something about Grace’s disapproval that made her less sure of her responses.

  ‘Yes, that is my job,’ she began warily, ‘and I can assure you mine and the rest of the team’s commitment to the investigation into Benji’s death hasn’t lessened in any way.’

  God, she sounded like a poorly written police manual. She could only imagine how intimidating it must’ve been growing up in Grace’s household and felt a surge of pity for Imogen.

  ‘Make sure you keep it that way,’ Grace ordered. ‘If I think that you’re not fully committed to solving my grandson’s case there will be severe consequences. It will not end well for you, DC Neville.’

  Grace stalked from the room and went upstairs. Maggie did her best to reassure Imogen.

  ‘Our focus is still on finding out what caused Benji to fall.’

  ‘Mum’s upset because we thought there would be more progress by now. Are you going to arrest Poppy?’

  Maggie sat down beside her.

  ‘It’s not that simple. We have an eyewitness who is corroborating her story that it was an accident.’

  Imogen went pale. ‘You mean he might’ve fallen by himself? No, I don’t believe it. I won’t accept that. The witness is lying too.’

  ‘That’s what we’re trying to establish. The results of the digital autopsy might give us a clearer idea of whether Benji was pushed or not, but at the moment we don’t know
when we’ll be getting those.’

  ‘What about the notebooks Jamie took? Did they help?’

  Maggie’s insides fluttered with consternation as she tried to think on her feet.

  ‘I’m not sure where we’re at with them. These were the ones he found in Benji’s room the other day?’

  ‘Yes, in his treasure box. One was his, the other I hadn’t seen before.’

  A flashback to the office, to Byford’s bottom drawer: one notebook patterned with footballs, the other with flowers.

  Maggie took a punt. ‘The football one was a diary, wasn’t it?’

  ‘No, Benji used it for writing short stories. Jamie seemed to think there was something in it that might be useful.’

  ‘I think he’s still checking through it,’ said Maggie, angry at being forced to cover for him. What the hell was Byford playing at? Why hadn’t he submitted the notebooks for evidence and told the rest of the team about them?

  ‘Have you seen the other one? I told Jamie it was going to take him ages to ring all those phone numbers. Pages and pages of them.’

  ‘You still haven’t remembered where Benji got it from?’ Again, another punt.

  Imogen shrugged. ‘I thought at first it might be his because of all the code alongside the numbers, but it wasn’t his handwriting. He must’ve found it somewhere and decided to keep it to see if he could crack the code. Pretending to be a spy was a favourite game of his.’

  It was another hour before Maggie was able to excuse herself to make a phone call. Grace had come back downstairs and wanted her to tell them what happened when an inquest was opened, as Benji’s was due to be on Monday morning. So she’d explained the process, making both women aware it would be a brief hearing that would end in an adjournment so the police investigation could continue. They could attend if they wished and she would be more than happy to accompany them. Imogen wanted to know whether any photographs of Benji after he’d died would be shown during the hearing and Maggie was pleased she could reassure her they wouldn’t be, not at this stage.