Girls Of The Dark (5 page)

Chapter 10

‘T
hanks for coming with me,’ Alice said awkwardly.

              ‘Not a problem. I’m as unhappy with the situation as you are.’ Andy slipped on his Ray Bans, as the late autumn sun bathed their faces in brilliant gold.

              ‘We’re doing this in our own time. I can’t see how the DCI can be upset about it.’

              ‘It’s not Bevan we should be worried about - it’s DCS Douglas.’

              ‘Either way, we aren’t really doing anything wrong.’

              Andy Calder could understand her reluctance to keep digging into the Lisa Abbot investigation. Alice had much more to lose than him. He’d heard on the grapevine that she wanted to go for DI in the next round of exams. The woman had only been a DS for a couple of months. Talk about fast stream promotion.

              The pair approached the front door of the unassuming house in Anniesland. It was still sealed off with tape. Andy stepped over the garden wall and pressed on the neighbour’s bell.

              A small, neatly dressed woman in her mid-sixties opened up.

              Alice held aloft her warrant card. ‘We’re from the Glasgow Division, madam. Would it be possible to come in and have a chat?’

              The lady shuffled backwards. ‘I suppose so. But I’ve already spoken with an officer, several days ago now.’

              ‘That’s okay. We’re just making sure that nothing’s been missed.’

              The woman led them into a narrow sitting room at the back. Andy noted how similar it was to the Kerrs’ place. It made him shiver at the memory.

              ‘I’m Kath.’ She held out a veiny hand. ‘Janet was a good friend of mine. I’d like to help. Any news on when we might be able to hold the funeral?’

              Alice shook her head. ‘I’m afraid not. That will be up to Maryhill CID.’ She cleared her throat. ‘They’ve taken possession of the bodies.’

              The colour drained from the woman’s face. ‘It’s just awful and so out of character.’

              ‘What do you mean?’ Andy chipped in.

              ‘Well, Janet was such a level-headed person. She brought up Ray pretty much single-handed after Lenny died. That’s nearly 25 years ago. You must be aware that Ray wasn’t a totally
normal
young man. He was a bit slower than other folk. But Janet made up for his short-comings. She looked after him.’

              ‘Did you ever meet Ray’s girlfriend, Lisa Abbot?’

              Kath made a face. ‘Yes, she came and went. During the spring the girl was a regular visitor. As soon as Ray bought her that flat, she was barely here at all. I told my daughter that was all she was after. We’d not see her round again.’

              ‘What about during the days leading up to the Kerrs’ deaths. Did you spot Lisa coming to the house then?’ Alice eyed her expectantly.

              ‘I’m afraid I wasn’t at home on the day it happened. My daughter was ill. I went over to her place in Paisley to help with my grandson.’

              ‘What time did you return?’ Alice felt her heart sink.

              ‘It was in the evening. It must have been around 7pm.’

              ‘Did you notice anything unusual?’ Andy picked up the questioning. ‘Were there lights on next door – a car parked outside – anything at all that caught your attention?’

              Kath dropped onto the floral sofa and considered this carefully. ‘It was almost dark when I walked up the path to my front door. The lights must have been on at Janet’s. Otherwise, I would have been concerned. We look out for each other, you see. She was a widow and so am I.’ The lady put a hand up to her face. ‘Now, it was a Thursday, which is when the local paper comes. I get annoyed about it, because the lad who does our street doesn’t deliver it until very late. Everywhere else receives their copies in the morning. Sometimes the items listed in the classified section are gone by midday and I do like to see what’s available. It puts me at a distinct disadvantage.’

              Alice sighed, wondering where this flight of fancy was going.

              ‘I remember now, that I spoke to the paper boy. Or who I thought was him. He’s a big lad and wears an oversized zippy top. That night, he had a cap on too. I saw him step off the path, coming away from Janet’s door. I muttered that he was getting later every week with that paper and I’d have a stern word with his mother if he didn’t get his act together.’

              ‘What did the boy say in reply?’

              ‘Well, now you ask me about it, he said nothing at all, just took off down the street in the direction of the main junction with the A82.’

              ‘And you didn’t tell the other police officers this, when they questioned you before?’ Alice edged forward.

              ‘No, because it wasn’t unusual. Robin Gabbler
always
delivers those papers late. It’s probably the only constant on this whole estate.’

              ‘Why are you mentioning it now?’

              ‘Because when the other policeman asked, it was as if what I told him didn’t really matter. He and his colleague were ticking boxes. Janet and Ray had killed themselves, why bother too much with what
I’d
seen or not seen.’ Kath leant in close, so that Alice could smell her minty breath. ‘But you two seem to think it’s more than that. I’m not wrong, am I? You suspect that someone else was involved in what happened to poor Janet and her boy. It makes everything that occurred on that evening take on a new significance.’

              ‘We aren’t making any assertions here, madam,’ the DS stressed. ‘There’s no new evidence.’

              ‘No,’ she replied matter-of-factly. ‘But you’ve got a feeling, haven’t you - that the Kerrs may have been murdered? Well, I’ll tell you something; so have I.’

Chapter 11

T
he Sunday papers lay strewn across the kitchen table of Dani’s flat. James had the colour supplement open to an impressive, glossy centre page spread.

              ‘I can’t believe they got the story out so quickly.’ He sipped his cup of espresso, unable to take his eyes off the photograph.

              ‘The reporters must have done the interview weeks ago. They were obviously just waiting for Suter’s parole to come through before going to print.’ Dani leant over James’ shoulder. The double page shot was of Calvin Suter seated at a desk in his cell. A laptop was positioned before him and bookshelves lined with literary classics provided the backdrop.

              The journalist had even inserted a thumbnail picture of Calvin’s book at the end of the text. Readers were informed that they could purchase a copy of it at a reduced price from the paper’s online bookshop.

              ‘Is that really a prison?’ James’s voice was dripping with incredulity. ‘It looks like a study in a country house.’

              ‘Garwood Park isn’t your typical prison. The inmates there are serving very lengthy sentences. Many of them committed crimes before we were even born.’ Dani slipped onto the seat next to him. ‘I’ve been there once, to interview someone. There are extensive gardens surrounding the main building. The prisoners tend to the allotments. Many grow the vegetables that are served in the canteen. I’m surprised this particular paper is having any truck with the place. Their front pages are usually full of headlines claiming that a stint in a British prison is like going to a holiday camp.’

              ‘Hypocrisy is nothing new to
Informing Scotland
. If the story sells papers, it will go into one of their rags.’

              ‘Does your dad get mentioned?’ Dani reached out to touch his hand.

              ‘Oh yes. There is a whole paragraph on Sir Anthony Alderton and James Sinclair Irving. The tenor of the entire piece is that Calvin was the victim of the incompetent and institutionally racist criminal justice system of the 1970s.’

              ‘There was absolutely no question of racial bias in Suter’s trial. That wasn’t the issue at all.’

              ‘No, but either Calvin or the journalist interviewing him now thinks there was. Dad’s being smeared as an incompetent and the police inspector, DCI Harry Paton, as a crypto racist. The upshot of the article is that Calvin’s imprisonment was a miscarriage of justice. The man is a sensitive intellectual who was stitched up by a flawed system.’

              Dani lifted her cup, cradling it in her palms. ‘I bet Suter’s planning to sue for compensation.’

              ‘Well, I know a little about the process. In order to gain damages from Her Majesty’s Government, Calvin Suter will either have to prove his innocence to another jury or claim that his case was handled so incompetently by the defence team that they are at fault for the guilty verdict.’

              Dani sighed. ‘Let’s hope he opts for the former rather than the latter.’

              James closed the paper decisively. ‘I think that rather depends upon whether our Mr Suter actually killed those girls or not.’

*

Andy Calder read again through the witness statements. He found Kathleen Nevin’s original interview. As she’d claimed, it read like a tick sheet; being made up of a list of one word answers. Calder made a point of noting down the names of the PCs who performed the house-to-house inquiries. He’d find a way to pass them onto Bevan.

              Alice had jotted down Kath’s description of the man she saw leaving the Kerrs’ property on the evening they died.

Ideally, they would want to create an E-fit, but use of the software had to be signed off by the officer in charge of the investigation. The neighbour hadn’t given them much to go on anyway. He’d been wrapped up in heavy clothing, a cap obscuring his face.

              Calder had already given the Gabbler family a call. The paper boy swore blind it wasn’t him. His mum backed the lad up, saying he was slumped in front of the telly with his tea on a tray by 6.30pm that night. If Andy were still on the case, he’d be putting all of his resources into locating this unidentified man.

              A shadow fell across Calder’s desk. He visibly flinched, sliding an arm surreptitiously over the papers in front of him. Andy twisted his neck. ‘Can I help you, sir?’

              ‘No, Detective Constable. I’m hoping it’s me who can help you.’ DCS Douglas pulled up a seat to join him.

              ‘Oh, aye?’

              ‘It’s been three months now since your terrible encounter with the O’Driscolls. But the department counsellor tells me you’re very well recovered?’

              ‘I’m right as rain, sir.’

              ‘Good. I’m pleased to hear it. Well done on your role in the Alex Galloway case, by the way. We should get a double conviction on that one.’

              Andy nodded an acknowledgement. ‘I was just assisting the DCI, that’s all.’

              ‘Only it’s come to my attention, whilst reviewing the staff files, that you’ve not put yourself forward for promotion in the last seven years. That’s a long time, DC Calder. These days, it doesn’t sit well on your record to appear to be coasting.’ The man’s face was devoid of expression.

              ‘I’m happy being a detective. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. I like interviewing folk and putting the pieces of an investigation together. The management side has never appealed to me.’

              Douglas nodded. ‘I understand. But times have changed. We have young recruits looking to move up through the ranks. There have to be positions freed up for them to fill. It’s the natural progression of things within the force these days. It really isn’t an option to simply stand still.’

              Andy inhaled deeply. ‘Look, sir, it isn’t only that. I had a bad health scare a couple of years back and then this incident with the O’Driscolls over the summer. I suppose I haven’t wanted to rush things. I’ve got a young family. It’s important to them that I stay healthy.’

              The DCS blinked several times. ‘If it’s a matter of fitness to do the job DC Calder, then you put me in a very difficult position. I need my officers to be in the peak of condition. You may have to rely on one another for your lives. I want you to think very carefully about your position here. If you’re treading water and in your heart of hearts you know that another, more resilient individual could take your place then you should consider it your duty to step down.’ The man rose to his feet, moving away from the desk before Andy could respond.

              ‘
Jeez
,’ he muttered under his breath, watching his boss walk towards the lift. ‘What the hell just happened there?’

Chapter 12

D
espite the November chill, Jim Irving could feel tiny beads of sweat springing to his upper lip. He’d rarely visited his son’s workplace before, but he wanted to make sure he spoke with him out of earshot of his mother.

              James’ law firm were a big multi-national enterprise. The Edinburgh offices were their main base in Scotland. Dani’s boyfriend specialised in commercial and contract law. There was very little overlap between James’s work and that of his father and sister. The office that Jim was directed to was small but pleasant.

              James stood up to open the door. ‘Dad! I’m really glad you’ve popped by. Take a seat. I’ll have coffees sent up for us.’

              ‘Thanks.’

              ‘Are you in town for any special reason?’ James returned to his desk. He was genuinely interested to know and not at all put out by the unexpected visit. Corporate law operated at a much calmer pace than the criminal bar.

              ‘I needed to cash some cheques,’ he mumbled. ‘But I could really have done that at the local branch.’

              James knitted his brow. ‘Is anything wrong?’

              ‘Do you remember the Suter case?’

              ‘Of course. It was your first murder trial. It took place the year after I was born.’ James decided to leave it there and allow his father to explain things for himself.

              ‘Suter was released on Friday. He’d served forty years, which was the minimum sentence stipulated by Judge Richards.’

              ‘Back in 1975?’

              Jim nodded. 

              ‘Is it a problem that he’s out - did Suter bear a grudge against you or Sir Anthony?’

              ‘Well, if the man didn’t, he bloody well should have done.’ Jim clasped his hands together. ‘Alderton botched it. The evidence was weak and he thought we could get the charges thrown out. Suter was claiming he didn’t kill those girls. He was reasonably convincing. So, my boss decided to pursue a plea of innocence. Our entire case was built around the assertion that someone
else
killed those women.’

              ‘You think that Anthony Alderton should have persuaded Suter to plead guilty?’

              ‘If we’d opted for a guilty plea, we could have argued for diminished responsibility. Calvin Suter had grown up in poverty. The father was absent and his mother had a series of boyfriends. I’d discovered that one of those men, who’d lived in the flat with Suter and his sisters for two whole years in the late sixties, had gone on to serve time for child battery and rape. We could have used it in court, perhaps got the sentence down to 15 years.’

              ‘The man could have been out in eight. That would have been in, what – 1983?’ James puffed out his cheeks. ‘Bloody Hell. That’s quite a difference.’

              ‘Judge Richards was a liberal. He would actually have been open to considering Suter’s difficult upbringing in his sentencing. Richards had been a Labour MP before taking his bar exams. He wasn’t your typical 1970s geriatric old duffer in a cap and wig.’

              ‘But the jury didn’t go for your argument of innocence?’ James ushered in one of the secretaries, who had entered with a tray bearing a large coffee pot.

              Jim took his time pouring the drinks into both their cups, the task seeming to focus his mind. ‘We were fortunate during the selection of jurors. There were two women of Afro-Caribbean origin and one Afro-Caribbean man. For some reason, Alderton was convinced they’d side with our defendant.’

              James sipped his drink and grimaced. ‘Why the hell should they? Talk about racial profiling.’

              ‘Alderton wasn’t the most progressive of men, although he really believed he was. His prejudices were entirely subconscious. I watched the jury carefully as the evidence was presented. It was clear to me that they were appalled by what happened to those girls. The case had a terrifying, almost nightmarish quality to it. ‘‘The girls of the dark’’, is how the senior policeman who discovered the bodies later described the murders in his memoirs. Those jurors had made their decision before anyone had even set foot in a courtroom.’

              ‘I suppose the fact that Suter had led the police to the bodies was what sealed his guilt in the eyes of the public.’

              ‘You recall the details then?’ A flash of suspicion crossed Jim’s lined features.

              ‘You talked about it for
years
afterwards, Dad.’

              He sighed. ‘I suppose that’s true. It was the worst defeat of my career.’

              ‘But it wasn’t really
your
defeat – it was Sir Anthony’s. I bet he didn’t lose much sleep over it.’

              ‘That’s where you’re mistaken. I saw his expression when the verdict was read out. His face drained of all colour. I thought he was going to keel over. Alderton realised how wrong he’d been.’

              ‘I expect it was professional pride rather than anguish for Suter himself.’

              Jim shook his head sadly. ‘If my career has taught me anything, it’s that we cannot ever see into another man’s soul. I couldn’t tell you which it was with any confidence.’

              James gulped down his coffee. ‘You mentioned that Suter’s claims of innocence were fairly convincing. Do you believe he was guilty of murdering all those women?’

              ‘I’ve heard far more compelling protestations of innocence from people who turned out to be as guilty as sin.’ Jim rubbed his brow. ‘The important thing is that Suter’s guilt doesn’t actually matter. The man had mitigating factors in his childhood that should have reduced his sentence. I’ve never said that Calvin deserved to walk free. But to serve forty years, when poverty and abuse had distorted his sense of right and wrong, well, it’s simply barbaric.’

              James sat back in his seat and considered this statement. Perhaps he’d been spending too much time with Dani lately, but the solicitor found that he simply couldn’t agree.