Convictions (16 page)

‘He lied, all right. The closest we heard to the truth coming out of his mouth was when he said he took her. He’s a part of this, whatever it is. You mark my words.’

Gray shook his head. ‘I’m sure you’re wrong.’

‘Why, because he’s a churchgoer?’ Cross rolled his eyes. ‘Okay, then, think about this. Normally when people get let out due to wrongful imprisonment, they get compensation, right?’

Gray nodded. ‘I should think Mr Cotter got a fair old bit. That’s six years of his life he didn’t get to live freely and can’t ever get back.’

Cross was shaking his head. ‘Cotter didn’t get a penny.’

‘How come? Didn’t he make a case?’

‘He made a case, all right, but he was turned down.’

‘How’s that? He’d been let go, he was innocent.’

‘Because pay outs are only made if the person concerned is clearly innocent. And Cotter can’t be shown to be clearly innocent. You know why that is, Charlie boy?

‘No, Sergeant.’

‘Because the slippery fucker did it, that’s why.’

Gray winced at the strong language. He prayed regularly to be spared from hearing it. He thought God must be testing him in some way, because it never got any less, so far as he could tell.

‘Karen, no.’ DSI Hardcastle was adamant.

‘Can’t we at least try to get a warrant, sir?’

‘You know as well as I do, it would be a waste of time. We’ve got no evidence, no grounds on which to request search warrants.’

‘But sir, I’m positive if we can just search Cotter’s house, and the church and its buildings, we’ll find something.’

‘Bring me a good reason to go to a magistrate and request warrants and I’ll go. Until then, I don’t want to hear it.’ Hardcastle walked off down the corridor, stopped and turned. ‘Look, if it’s any consolation, I think you have a point. You and Winter have a couple of days to see what you can come up with. Talk to people, put yourselves about, but don’t fuck anything up. Deal?’

‘Deal. And thanks, sir.’

***

Fitzgerald’s first port of call was the house of the pastor of the Ebenezer Tabernacle. She rang the bell while Winter locked the car and followed in her wake, reaching her side as the door was opened. The man they saw wore a shirt and tie with slacks and a pullover, the slippers on his feet at odds with his clothing.

‘Mr Surtees?’

‘Yes, I’m John Surtees. How can I help you?’

‘You’re the pastor of the Ebenezer Tabernacle?’

‘That’s right.’

Fitzgerald showed him her warrant card. ‘DI Karen Fitzgerald, this is DI Rob Winter. Can we come in? We have some questions for you.’

Surtees stood back to let them enter. ‘Be my guest. If I can help the police in any way … Would you like some tea or coffee?’

Ten minutes later they were seated in the Surtees’ comfortable lounge. Mrs Surtees had brought in a pot of tea and a cafetiere of coffee, mugs, milk, sugar, and generous wedges of homemade chocolate cake. Winter looked like he’d died and gone to heaven.

‘Now then,’ said Surtees, when they were all served. ‘How can I help?’

‘Well, it’s about what might seem to you to be an old issue. We want to talk to you about George Cotter, specifically in connection with his role in Annie Snowdon’s disappearance.’

‘I wasn’t aware he’d had a role in that girl’s disappearance. We were all very relieved when his conviction was shown to have been false and he was released. Poor George. The poor soul suffered so much in prison.’

Not as much as Fitzgerald would have liked, but she managed to keep that to herself. ‘Did you ever have any doubts about his innocence, Mr Surtees?’

Surtees shook his head. ‘No, none whatsoever. I have known George Cotter for a good many years now and I know him to be a good man, a kind man. He would never do anything to harm another living person, and especially not a child.’

‘And yet he has no explanation for the T-shirt that was found in his car or the fact that the car was spotless. There weren’t even any fingerprints on the steering wheel.’

Surtees smiled. ‘That may have been down to our young people. I can’t remember exactly when it started, but some years ago they decided that since they often got lifts from older church members with cars, then to show thanks for that kindness, they would clean the cars.’ He put his head on one side and tapped his top lip with his index finger. ‘I wonder,’ he said, ‘I just wonder if one of our young people might have been to the same concert and accidentally left their T-shirt in George’s car after cleaning it. After all, it was just a T-shirt, it could have been bought by anybody.’

‘Cotter never mentioned this, did he?’ Fitzgerald asked Winter.

He shook his head, a mouth full of Mrs Surtees’ delicious chocolate cake preventing him from speaking.

Fitzgerald rolled her eyes. ‘I thought not. Mr Surtees, why do you think Mr Cotter didn’t mention at the time something that had such a bearing on his case?’

‘I really couldn’t say. He mustn’t have thought it relevant.’

‘He must have known that the young people had been in his car.’

‘They have spare keys for most of the cars. They have their own rota, we know roughly but not exactly when to expect them. Depending upon when they come to clean, sometimes we see them and other times, we get into our cars and are welcomed by a lovely, fresh smell as they’ve been cleaned for us since they were last used.’

‘Wait a minute. You’re saying that the young people of the church had access to the keys for Cotter’s car?’

‘Well, yes, but none of those concerned can drive. The ones on the car detail are all too young, that’s why they rely on lifts from people. That’s probably why George didn’t mention them.’

‘Does anyone else have access to the car keys?’

‘Anyone with access to the church office. That’s where the keys are kept.’

‘Is the office left open or locked?’

‘Locked, unless someone is in there.’

‘Can you provide me with a list of those people who would have had access to the office and the keys at the time of Annie Snowdon’s disappearance?’

‘Yes, I should think so. But I have to ask, what will you do with it?’

‘We’ll need to ask those people some questions, Mr Surtees. So that we can eliminate them from our enquiries.’

‘Well, then, I’m sure they’ll all be happy to help. Give me ten minutes, I’ll go to my office and make out the list for you. Names and addresses, yes?’

Fitzgerald nodded. When Surtees had left the room, she turned to Winter. ‘Can you believe this? For fuck’s sake, Rob!’

She heard someone clear their throat and turned to see Mrs Surtees at the doorway. ‘Would you like more tea or cake,’ she asked, managing to look both solicitous and disappointed at the same time.

‘No thank you, Mrs Surtees,’ Fitzgerald said, her cheeks burning. ‘And I’m sorry about that. Really.’

‘We are all of us works in progress,’ said Mrs Surtees, as she turned and retreated once more to the kitchen.

By the time Surtees was back downstairs with the list, Fitzgerald and Winter were on their feet and waiting by the front door.

‘I would love to see you both at the church sometime. Here,’ he said, pressing leaflets into their hands. ‘Take this. It’s literature about the different groups and services we hold, and about the Lord, how if you let him into your life, he can change it for the better.’ He smiled. ‘You just have to take the first step and he will stride forward and lift you up. Salvation will be yours.’

‘Thank you, sir. We’ll bear that in mind.’

***

‘How in hell did we not find out about this first time around, Rob? There are fifteen names on this list.’

‘God knows,’ said Winter, pulling up at a red light. He looked at Fitzgerald. ‘Do you believe the story about the T-shirt?’

Karen snorted. ‘That’s a whole load of shite. Did you see him pretend to have just thought of it? He must think we were born yesterday. I believe they’re fucking with us, though. Even so, we’ve got to check all these people out. It’s either a massive waste of time or the biggest break we’ve had in years.’

‘Where do you reckon he’s from originally?’ asked Winter. ‘Surtees. He’s not from here.’

‘He sounds like my Uncle Billy. He’s from Morpeth, up in Northumberland.’

***

Hardcastle gave Fitzgerald and Winter a couple of uniformed officers to help them out with the questioning. He allocated Rick Mills and Charlie Gray, the latter because he was known to be religious and might be able to communicate better with the good people of the church than the God-forsaken heathens that otherwise occupied the police station. Meanwhile, Fitzgerald wanted to speak to George Cotter again to find out exactly why he had withheld vital evidence. She daydreamed briefly about seeing him sent down for that if she couldn’t get him for anything else, but by the time she and Winter pulled up at the Cotter house, she was focused purely on the present.

‘Why didn’t you tell us about the church’s car cleaning actvities?’ she said, after the briefest of preliminaries. ‘This is information that was pertinent to your case. You didn’t even mention it at your appeal. Why not?’

‘I didn’t need to, I was innocent. I didn’t need to drag other people into it.’

‘So you freely admit deliberately withholding evidence from the police?’

‘No, not at all,’ Cotter blustered. ‘I … I didn’t think about it at the time. I was confused …’

‘I asked you straight out if you had cleaned your car.’

‘Well, I hadn’t.’

‘But it had been cleaned.’

‘It seems like it now.’

‘Jesus Christ, Cotter, we should lock you up and throw away the bloody key.’

‘I really don’t think there’s any need to use that sort of language. Blasphemy is a sin. And I find it very offensive.’

Fitzgerald stood and moved closer to Cotter. He seemed to shrink back in the chair. ‘Being offended is the least of your problems.’ She flashed a look at Rob Winter. ‘George Cotter, I am arresting you on suspicion of perverting the course of justice. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’

Cotter got to his feet as she finished cautioning him. His wife stood in the doorway, nervously wringing her hands. ‘Don’t worry dear,’ he said. ‘I’m sure I’ll be back in time for tea.’

‘Don’t count on it,’ Fitzgerald told her as she led Cotter out to the car and put him in the back seat.

***

‘What’s he doing back here?’ Hardcastle asked Fitzgerald, as he watched Cotter being taken through to the interview room by Winter.

‘I just want to see if I can get anything else out of him, sir,’ she answered. ‘He’s too cocky by far. I’m starting to think they’re all in on this. They’re taking the piss out of us, making us look stupid while they’ve got us running around chasing our tails.’

‘Any word from Mills and Gray yet?’

‘They’ve spoken to a couple of the people on the list. It seems that Surtees has been on the phone to everyone concerned to explain to them what has happened. They’ve all got their stories straight, I’m sure, and the lads are likely to come back two stone heavier from all the homemade cake.’

‘Go easy, Karen. It might be a DIY one, but it’s still a church.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Fitzgerald, not meaning it. She went to the canteen where Winter joined her, as arranged.

‘Letting him sweat?’ Rob asked.

She nodded. ‘And making him late home for his tea.’ She smiled grimly. ‘Small pleasures, but I’ll take what I can get.’

A cup of tea and a couple of chocolate digestives later, she punched his arm. ‘Come on, that’s long enough. Let’s go and do a bit of Cotter-baiting. You never know, he might just trip himself up this time.’

***

Next afternoon, Fitzgerald and Winter were updated by Rick Mills and Charlie Gray as to how they’d got on with the list Surtees had provided.

‘We got nothing worthwhile out of any of the people we questioned,’ Rick Mills told them. ‘They all say that yes, they could have taken the keys and the car, but no, they didn’t. As for the ones who were in the cleaning crew back then, we’ve spoken to about half of them.’ He checked his notebook. ‘I have a list of names, most of the others are away at university now. But they say that this far on, they just can’t remember if anyone went to the MC Boyz concert or whether they cleaned Cotter’s car between the abduction and his arrest.’

‘I don’t believe them,’ said Karen. ‘They’re lying and he’s lying, too. He told us a whole load of shite yesterday, and not for the first time. I had to let him go, but he’s on police bail. The whole thing stinks to high heaven.’

‘Please remember they’re Christians,’ Gray chipped in. ‘They won’t tell lies lightly, the way non-believers would. They value the truth very highly indeed.’

‘Yeah, right!’ Fitzgerald scoffed. ‘Go tell that to Tina Snowdon and her mum, and while you’re on, you can explain why God took that little girl from them.’