Dead To Me (32 page)

Silent tears rolled from Angela’s eyes, she wiped them away.

‘Let’s start again,’ Janet said. ‘You and James have a sexual relationship.’

‘Yes,’ she said.

‘How long for?’

‘Year and a half.’

‘How did you meet?’

‘At Ryelands.’

‘And Rosie Vaughan. Did James go out with her?’

‘He broke it off,’ she said, ‘when we got together.’

‘You told me earlier that you’d only seen Rosie twice after leaving Ryelands. Is that why? Because of James?’

‘He liked me and she could never have coped with it, him being my boyfriend instead of hers. She was bothering him, anyway. Obsessive, innit. Wouldn’t leave him alone, threatening to get him into trouble if he left her. Best to have a clean break all round.’

The threats were of interest. Was that what had led to the beating and the rape? Rosie, cut off from Angela, suspecting he was shagging around and trying to pull weight? ‘And Lisa Finn – was she another of his girlfriends?’

‘No way,’ Angela insisted. ‘Never. There was just me.’ Janet absorbed that. ‘He wouldn’t do that to me. Go with some dirty junkie. He was a social worker, he had to see Lisa for his job, that’s all.’ Trying to convince herself. ‘He loves me. He wouldn’t do that.’

Janet felt a wash of guilt, she loved Ade and look at what she’d done.

‘When did you last see James?’

Angela wavered. Still wanting to protect him, to protect some shred of the fantasy she’d been living. But, Janet guessed, not knowing what answer might best help him. ‘Thursday,’ she finally said.

‘This last Thursday? What time?’

‘About six.’

‘When did he leave?’

‘Seven-ish,’ she said, defensively.

‘That evening?’

Angela gave a nod. Wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. Janet bet he never stayed the night, never took her anywhere. Using her like a prostitute, not even having to pay. ‘Did James say anything about Lisa’s murder?’

‘Said they’d got Sean for it. It had been on the news.’

‘Anything else?’ Janet said.

‘No. Only that it was an awful thing, one of his clients, innit.’

‘Did you know before – that Lisa was one of his clients?’

‘No. Confidential all that,’ she reeled off.

‘And how did James seem when he told you her boyfriend had been arrested?’

‘I don’t know … pleased, like they’d got someone for it. Just normal.’

‘Did he ever speak to you at all about the assault on Rosie Vaughan?’

‘No, I was the one told him, ’cos the police had been round. He didn’t even know it had happened.’ Her voice shook. ‘He hadn’t seen her for ages, see, ’cos he was going with me.’ Another tear tracked down her face.

She wasn’t stupid, Janet thought. The sheer effort, the energy it must have taken to build and sustain the wall of ignorance she’d built. To keep him unsullied in her mind. To shout down the whispers of suspicion about Rosie, about Lisa, about all the other girls that he popped in to see when the whim took him. To believe she was the only one, special, different.

‘I’d like to take your phone,’ Janet said. ‘We are having to examine all communications made to and from James as part of our investigation.’

‘He’s innocent, he didn’t do nothing,’ Angela said again.

Janet got out an evidence bag and held it open. ‘Can you please place your phone in the bag?’ She wrote out a receipt and passed it back to Angela. ‘Has James ever been violent to you?’

‘No,’ she said.

‘Has he ever raped you?’

‘No, fuck off, he’d never do anything like that!’ She was angry, her face darkening.

‘Has he ever threatened you with a knife?’

‘No. He’s not like that,’ she said. ‘You’ll see. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

42

THE MEETING ROOM
was buzzing, people chipping in, speculating about the arrest. Gill could see Rachel thriving on the attention, the closest she had come yet to acting like a team player. Sing when you’re winning.

Denise Finn had been dumbfounded on hearing of the arrest of another suspect. ‘What twenty-eight-year-old? Who is it?’ she asked. And, ‘Not Sean?’ she said more than once, as though she might have got the wrong end of the stick.

‘Good news and bad news,’ Gill began. ‘Good news: we have a text from Raleigh to our victim arranging to visit her at two p.m. on the thirteenth. We have his car in the right place at the right time. We know he has lied to us on several counts. Bad news: we found nothing at his place of residence apart from the right make of condoms, no knife, no bloody togs. High-tech crime unit – still have to get back to us. Andy and Janet – Angela?’

Andy and Janet looked at each other, some weird, polite dance going on as to who should talk. ‘Somebody,’ Gill prompted impatiently.

‘Grooming,’ Janet said, ‘apparently for his sole use. Met the three girls at Ryelands, started shagging Rosie, then Angela. Tells Angela he’s broken off with Rosie and she must do the same. Divide and rule. Told Angela she was the one and only. Probable he was still visiting Rosie. At some point he starts seeing Lisa, too. The texts say it all. Same style for both Angela and Lisa. His MO seems to be: send them a text, turn up, get his end away and leave. Angela swore blind he never laid into her. One thing she did say might be of interest: Rosie had threatened to report Raleigh, get him into trouble if he didn’t treat her right. Perhaps she tried that once too often?’

Rachel tightened her mouth. Gill saw she was disturbed by the likely truth of what Janet suggested.

‘I’ve told forensic submissions that we want to run Raleigh’s DNA against our profiles immediately, if not sooner. Other thoughts?’ Gill said.

‘If he did kill Lisa,’ said Mitch, ‘why has he kept his sent messages? Why not cover his tracks?’

‘Because he’s an arrogant wanker,’ Rachel said, earning herself a round of applause.

‘You may be right,’ Gill said, ‘but it’s a good question. Lee?’ He usually had something useful to say on the murkier aspects of human behaviour.

‘People keep trophies, that’s a similar risk. Others keep things like the murder weapon because they aren’t sure how to dispose of them.’

‘So, he couldn’t work out how to delete his texts?’ Kevin sneered.

‘Or he chose not to,’ Lee said. ‘Rachel might be right, he’s a narcissist, the only world view he accepts is his own, high functioning, copes with social interaction well, but has a total lack of empathy and an inflated sense of self-importance. Any challenge to him, how he sees things, is completely disregarded. He is never wrong.’

‘Like the boss,’ Janet joked.

Gill took a bow.

‘More bad news,’ Pete said. ‘The business about going on to a case conference at the town hall checks out. He arrived at ten to three, no mention of bloodstained clothing. I think somebody would have said.’

‘It might not have been visible,’ Rachel said.

‘Right, these guys need to plan and prep,’ Gill said. ‘Solicitor?’

‘With him now,’ said Andy.

‘Who is it?’ Gill asked.

‘Meacham,’ Andy said.

She nodded. Could be worse.

‘Is that good?’ Rachel asked.

‘Course it’s not good,’ said Kevin. ‘It’s a solicitor, yeah?’

‘She won’t dick you about,’ Gill said, ignoring Kevin. ‘She’ll play it straight. The rest of you, you know what you’re doing? The slightest shred of something relevant and I want it pronto. Get going.’

* * *

Janet was helping Rachel rehearse the major steps of the interview when Gill stuck her head round the door. ‘Got you a present,’ Gill said, eyes bright. ‘Raleigh’s DNA – it’s a match in both scenes.’ Rachel gave a gasp, shot a look at Janet,
I told you so
. Janet felt her own skin tingle in turn.

‘But listen’ – Gill held up her finger – ‘from the outset you explain we want to discuss two separate incidents with him, then you divide the interview up. Understand?’

‘Yes,’ said Rachel.

‘Start with Lisa, take that as far as you can, and then tell him you want to talk about another matter. Keep them completely distinct,’ Gill said. ‘Have you eaten?’ She jerked her head. ‘I’m going down.’

‘We should,’ Janet said to Rachel.

‘I can’t,’ Rachel said.

‘Running on empty, not wise,’ Janet said.

‘I’ll live,’ Rachel said.

‘I’ll bring you a bun,’ Janet promised, and went with Gill.

‘She did good,’ Gill said to Janet as they set their trays down. ‘Reckon she can sustain it?’

‘I’m not sure. I hope so. D’you think I need some eject button – you know, agree a phrase to say if she’s veering off course?’

‘Might undermine her?’ Gill cut into her baked potato, scooped up a forkful, chewed and swallowed.

‘Yes,’ said Janet. ‘I could always suggest a break if necessary.’ She had some soup. ‘How’s Sammy?’

Gill exhaled dramatically. ‘Sammy’s OK, it’s his bloody father that’s the problem.’ She stabbed her fork into the potato.

‘What now?’ Janet said.

‘I asked him to do the school run—’

‘College,’ Janet corrected her, knowing Sammy complained if Gill called it school, him being in sixth form and all.

‘—college run,’ Gill accepted. ‘And he only sends his floozie! Typical.’ She ate some more.

‘Well, it’s a lot to ask, Gill,’ Janet teased her. ‘A return journey, no less.’

‘And she fed him. Bitch.’ Gill sat forward, leaned in towards Janet. ‘I got asked out,’ she announced.

‘What! Who?’

‘The bloke who knocked Sammy down.’

‘Bit of an extreme way to get an introduction. What’s he like?’

‘Very nice,’ Gill beamed.

‘You said yes?’

‘I said maybe some other time. I can’t imagine it, can you? Starting on all that again. After all those years with buggerlugs … going with someone new … don’t know if I can.’

Janet squirmed inside, prayed it wouldn’t show on her face. She wanted to change the subject, but that would look weird. ‘Course you can,’ she said.
I did
, she thought. It would be good for Gill, she’d had a hard few years. Janet knew she found it lonely. It was time she found somebody who really appreciated her. ‘Give us the low-down then?’ Janet said.

‘He’s called Matthew. He’s a GP. Separated, I think, grown-up daughter anyway. You know where the farm is, the one you see from ours? Well, he’s doing up the barn.’ She cleared her plate, set down her knife and fork and slapped the table. ‘Still, no chance at the moment, too much on. Andy,’ she said abruptly, ‘anything wrong that you’ve heard of?’

Janet nearly choked. She forced the mouthful of soup down. ‘No, why?’

Gill shrugged. ‘Seems a bit off.’

Oh, hell
. ‘Maybe he’s sickening for something,’ Janet said. ‘I’d not noticed, seems fine to me.’

Gill stared at her, a tad too long, and Janet’s stomach turned over, her nerves jangled. ‘What?’ she said.

‘Rachel,’ Gill said, with a bob of her head, ‘I think she’s gonna work out fine.’

‘Yeah.’ Janet breathed again. ‘You know how to pick ’em.’

‘So I’ll not send her back?’

‘Not on my account.’ Janet smiled and struggled to drink a little more of her soup.

‘Can I take you back to the statement you made earlier today when you denied being in the Collyhurst area at all on Monday the thirteenth,’ Rachel began. ‘That is what you said?’

‘Because it’s true,’ he said coldly. Janet made notes, his answers would be on video and tape as well, but the paper gave her a chance to make observations too, flag up anything they might want to revisit.

‘You are the registered keeper of a Nissan Micra …’ Rachel quoted the registration number.

‘That’s right.’

‘And you are the sole driver?’

‘Yes.’

Rachel set a document down on the table. ‘I am now showing the suspect exhibit number BD4. This is a map drawn up using data from our automatic number-plate recognition system. The crosses here show places where your vehicle was captured on Monday’ – Rachel pointed to the document – ‘the times are printed alongside each location.’

He became very still.

Janet hoped Rachel would wait, use the silence to exert pressure and force a response. But Rachel went on: ‘Explain that to me?’

‘I may have been mistaken.’ Raleigh looked at his solicitor, who wasn’t giving anything away.

‘Are you now saying you were in Collyhurst?’

‘Apparently,’ he said crisply.

‘Yes or no is fine,’ Rachel said. A little jibe that she didn’t need to make, that Janet wouldn’t have bothered with because it slightly weakened her position, indicated that he was getting to her.

‘Yes, then,’ he said.

‘What were you doing in Collyhurst?’ Rachel asked him.

‘I can’t remember,’ he said.