Backlash (11 page)

Anna opened her briefcase. ‘This shouldn’t take long, Eileen, but I need your help. You see, your husband also claimed that he had been involved in two other murders.’

‘I wouldnae know about anythin’ he done. Like I told you, I’ve not seen him for over eight years.’

Anna took a photograph of Rebekka Jordan out from her file. ‘One of the possible victims is this little girl, missing for five years. When your husband was arrested for the—’
Anna was interrupted.

‘He killed that wee bairn? Is that what he’s been arrested for?’

‘No, another woman, but he claimed he had killed this child. Her name is Rebekka Jordan. But he then retracted his statement, denying that he had admitted having anything to do with her
disappearance.’

‘She’s just a wee child.’

Eileen looked at the photograph of Rebekka, shaking her head and sucking in her lips.

Anna explained that Rebekka had last been seen leaving a stable yard in Shepherd’s Bush. She asked if Oates had ever worked in that area.

‘I wouldnae know. He did odd jobs, but I cannae remember if he was workin’ there. I don’t even know where he lives now. When I left him we had a place in Brixton, but I know
the solicitors for the divorce had a hard time tracing him to sign the papers as he wasnae living there. He used to move into squats, never had any money.’

‘You said previously that he had assaulted your eldest daughter. Do you know if he had ever had sexual contacts with other young girls?’

‘When he was drunk he’d have sex with a dog. He was a perverted bastard, but I wouldnae know if he had other wee girls.’

‘Tell me about when you went to London and met him.’

She said that she was sixteen when she left home in Glasgow due to a drunken and abusive father. Her mother had arranged for a friend’s family, who lived in East London, to take her in and
they had a daughter, Anne, who was the same age as her. Anne’s father, who had recently died of cancer, had been an amateur boxing promoter and not long after she had arrived in London they
all went to a boxing match at York Hall in Bethnal Green. This was where she first met Henry Oates, who had fought in one of the bouts that evening. Henry had invited her out for a drink and she
liked him and they started a relationship shortly after they first met and he was always very protective of her. She had believed, like Henry, that he was going to become a successful professional
boxer. They’d being going out for just over a year when Eileen fell pregnant with Corinna, so they married before her birth. Eileen took out a crumpled tissue from her pocket, her eyes
brimming with tears.

‘His boxing career didnae take off so he tried tae get into the Army, you know, get permanent work. It seemed like he’d only just got kitted out with his uniform when they threw him
out.’

‘Why was that?’

‘Said something about him being unsuitable. Knowing him, he probably got inta a fight.’

‘Carry on, tell me more about Henry.’

‘After that he took odd jobs, but we were always short of money and we moved from one dump tae another. He’d even started tae think Corinna wasn’t his . . .’

‘Sorry, can I ask why he thought Corinna wasn’t his?’

‘When she was born she had darkish skin. As she grew, her hair was matt black and tight curls, started wearing it like them Jamaicans do when she got in her teens. He was convinced she
wasn’t his. I told him ma grandmother’s hair and skin was like that but he just wouldnae believe me. Said I’d tricked him intae marriage over Corinna and then when I was expecting
Megan he thought I just wanted tae keep hold of him by getting pregnant again.’

She wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

‘Just thinking about it makes me upset. It was as if he blamed me for everything that went wrong. All those wasted years, being knocked around, trying to make ends meet. I went out working
the streets at night, while he was supposed to be at home looking after the girls, but I’d come home and he’d have been out drinking, leaving them on their own.’

Anna put out her hand to reach for Eileen’s and she gripped it tightly.

‘You did what you had to do, Eileen, and you brought them here to Glasgow away from him. I admire you. It must have taken a lot of guts; it’s always hard for a woman who is abused to
have the strength to get out of—’

‘Vicious fucking circle, that’s what it was. It’s not got better.’ Eileen started to cry in earnest. ‘Now after all I done, I’ve got a heroin addict on the
run from rehab and the other bairn’s got herself pregnant. She’s just sixteen, a boy from off the estate. And I’m nae better; I’ve gone from one bad’un to another.
Take a look at this . . .’

Eileen pulled open her jacket and drew down the top of her sweater. She had a massive dark blue-black bruise in the centre of her chest and red marks around her throat.

‘Oh Eileen, I am so sorry. Is that from McAleese?’

‘You know he’s got form for violence?’

Anna nodded, by now wondering if there was any point in continuing to question Eileen. As there had been no contact with Henry Oates for so long she doubted if she could gather anything more
than that he’d been a despicable human being from way back. Eileen meanwhile pulled her sweater back up to her neck and then closed her pink jacket.

‘You know I said I had no connection to why you have been brought here to the station for questioning, and I don’t. I asked to meet you because I am trying to find out what happened
to Rebekka Jordan and if your ex-husband killed her as he claims. I doubt that you can help me, but I want to help you. Eileen, you have to be strong and if you are being abused again and forced
into assisting Mr McAleese, you can get protection. If necessary you can be placed in a witness protection programme that will take care of you, move you and your daughters to a safe
place.’

Eileen had her hands clenched together, twisting the tissue round and round. Her voice was hardly audible.

‘He’ll kill me.’

‘You will never be free of him if you don’t accept help. Remember how you felt when you took control of your life and left London.’

‘You’re right. I’ve had enough shit shovelled over me.’

Eileen lifted her hand, opening and closing her mouth. ‘I’ve just remembered something . . . oh my God . . . yes!’

Eileen touched the photograph of Rebekka Jordan still left on the table between them. She half rose from the table and then sat down again.

‘That last time he called me it caught me by surprise; it was very late at night. Oh Gawd, it’s got to be five years ago, more even, maybe six, but you said something about the wee
girl worked at a stables?’

Anna felt her body tense. She didn’t correct Eileen that Rebekka didn’t work at the stables, but had been taking riding lessons.

‘I’ve just remembered what he said to me. We hadnae said two words before we started arguing. I called him a layabout, something like that, and he . . . Oh Gawd almighty . . . let me
get this right . . .’

Anna waited as Eileen licked her buck teeth, running the tip of her tongue round her lips.

‘Okay, this is how it went doon. I think he started callin’ me a whore and I said to him that he was nothing but a layabout who never earned a penny, that’s when he mentioned
he had a job. I called him a liar again and he got really mad, screaming at me that he was working in a stables shovelling shit. I think he said stables, but that would be the only place, shit from
the horses, am I right?’

She gave Anna a smile. It altered her whole drawn face.

‘Have I helped ye?’

‘Yes you have. One more thing, Eileen: do you know if he owned a car around this time?’

‘Nae, he could never afford tae pay for one. We never had so much as a bicycle between us.’

‘When he did these odd jobs did he have access to vehicles?’ Anna asked.

‘I dunno. I dunno if he even had a driving licence. Is there any chance I can nip out to the car park for a fag and a coffee?’

‘Sure, I’ll ask an officer to get you a coffee.’

While Eileen was out having a cigarette break Anna took the opportunity to go over what she had recorded on her Dictaphone. She listened intently to the last part of their
conversation and in particular where Eileen had mentioned that Oates said he was working in a stables and she wondered if this could be the connection to Rebekka Jordan that she was looking for.
She wrote in her notebook to make further enquiries at the stable about employees who had worked there for at least a year before Rebekka went missing.

Eileen was brought back to the interview room by a uniform officer.

‘You okay to carry on? There are just a few more things I need to ask you,’ Anna said.

‘I’ve been thinking about what ye said about being free of McAleese. I don’t want tae lie for him any more but I’m scared of what he’ll do tae me.’

‘So you lied about him being with you when the armed robbery happened?’

‘Aye, but he said he’d shoot me through the heid as well if I didnae give him an alibi.’

‘I understand, but you need to tell DCI McBride what happened. It’s his investigation, not mine, and I have to return to London,’ Anna said sympathetically.

‘Can ye not stay with me, make McBride give me the protection ye said I could have, because if he doesnae I’m terrified he’ll kill me or hurt ma daughters,’ Eileen said
as she clung to Anna’s hand.

‘I’ll talk to McBride for you, Eileen, but you should ask for a solicitor to be present. They will provide you with one.’

Eileen sighed and then blew her nose.

‘Ye know, with Henry I put up with a lot more. I did it because at the start I used tae feel sorry for him. He’d had a terrible upbringing, do ye know about it?’

‘No, but I am interested and it could help me with the investigation.’

Eileen explained that Henry’s mother had been a junkie on the game and Social Services had taken him from her when he was about eighteen months old. They found him left in a dump of a
place; he’d not been fed and was filthy, then he was put into care. Eventually his mother got him back, not because she loved him but because she wanted the child benefit for drugs. Henry was
around five years old, and she and her punters started knocking him about so they took him off her again when he was eight and he went back in a care home.

‘He told me he used tae always fight with other kids but it always ended up with the staff giving him a good beating. Anyways, he run off when he was just a teenager and got tae London,
started to work for some old bloke that was an ex-boxer and he took it up, he was like a sort of mentor tae him.’

‘Where was the boxing club?’

‘Bethnal Green, near the York Hall where they have all the fights. The old boy trained him and everythin’ and he started out as an amateur. He was good, ye know, had a lot of
potential. This old guy raised money for a club tour to America and wanted tae take Henry, but he needed his birth certificate tae get a passport. He tracked his mother down tae Liverpool and went
tae see her. She was still using drugs and on the game . . .’

Eileen sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. She told Anna that Henry never had a proper father and when he tracked his mother down he asked her about him and she told him that she
never knew who it was and didn’t care either but it had to have been some waster as that was the only blokes she’d ever known, wasters that she went with to get a fix.

‘Did he go to the States?’

‘Nae. The rest of ’em did, though, and while they were there the old boy snuffed it, had a massive heart attack. It really hurt Henry, he’d become like a dad tae him, even let
him live with him, but when he died his missus kicked him out. He carried on boxing, but I think that was because being in the ring made him feel better about himself and the club was the only
place he had any friends. That was all just before I met him. So you see, I used tae feel sorry for him cos he’d never really had nobody . . . turns out he was like what his mum said, a
waster. I know I wasted years on him.’

McBride was taken aback when Anna joined him in the incident room and announced that she would be leaving in time to catch an earlier train back to London.

‘Did you get anything out of her for your case?’

‘Not much, however . . .I think she will give up McAleese, but she is very frightened. She’s been beaten up. I think she will talk if she gets protection. Can you arrange
that?’

‘It depends . . .’

‘He threatened to kill her. Take a look at the bruise on her chest, and she’s got a pregnant teenage daughter, she’s scared for her as well. Eileen Oates is an abused woman,
but taking her back over her abusive past with Henry Oates I think made her aware that she was in the same old situation. She’s scared McAleese will kill her. If you offer her witness
protection I think she’ll make a statement against him.’

‘I’ll get a car arranged to take you to the station.’

‘Thank you.’ Anna was slightly taken aback by his abruptness.

McBride cocked his head to one side and gave a small tight-lipped smile. ‘Thank
you
.’

As the train sped her back to London Anna once again sifted through the file on Rebekka Jordan. All the current employees at the stables had been questioned five years ago and
all their names and addresses were listed. On top of these were the part-time workers and Saturday morning stable hands and trainees. Henry Oates’s name did not appear, but after her
conversation with Eileen, she would now have to talk to the owners to take them back at least a year before Rebekka went missing. She sat back in her seat and closed her eyes. She thought about
Eileen Oates. She was a sad creature, like a wounded animal incapable of any self-esteem. She opened her eyes and made a note to check if they could trace any known associates of Oates from his
boxing days as he might still have kept up with them.

Back in Hackney, Barbara and Joan had been busy compiling the statements gathered from people who had last seen Fidelis Julia Flynn. The flatmates had been able to give a clear
picture of the evening she left, the last time they had seen her. She had given no indication that she was meeting anyone. Although all Fidelis’s landline and mobile phone calls had been
checked at the time she was reported missing Mike had instructed Barbara to go over them again. Her flatmates had brought in their old BT telephone bill, which they had kept because Fidelis had
made a number of calls and had not paid for them. These were all highlighted in pink and indicated that she kept in touch with her parents in Dublin on a regular basis. The other numbers were for a
hairdressing salon, a local cinema and the garage where she had worked. A number that had been called on several occasions from her mobile had turned out to be to an unregistered pay-as-you-go
phone, which to date had not been traced. Mr and Mrs Flynn had sent more photographs of their daughter, taken in Dublin shortly before she came to London. Barolli had looked through the suitcases
and a zip-up bag which contained make-up, a sponge bag, clothes, shoes, handbags and a purse that had two twenty-pound notes in and some change. There was no diary, no notebook, and searching the
pockets of the handbags he had found nothing but a couple of old crumpled receipts and a used lipstick.