Lost Innocence (32 page)

‘They’re still combing the scene,’ Croft answered. ‘Dickon’s asking when you’re intending to go down there.’

‘He knows I can’t go near the place till he’s finished,’ Bevan answered irritably.

‘Cross-contamination,’ Croft stated.

‘Precisely,’ Bevan confirmed. ‘I’m about to go and see the victim, so I don’t want to be walking forensic evidence from the crime scene into the rape suite. That’s for her to do. So, my friend,
you
are going to pick up the boy and bring him in for questioning. Where does he live again?’

‘Same village as her, near where it happened. A place called Holly Wood, would you believe?’

Bevan screwed up his nose. ‘Where the hell’s that? And please don’t say California.’

‘Might just as well be,’ Croft answered, ‘because it’s effing miles away. Past Shepton Mallet, nearly as far as Yeovil according to the map.’

Bevan grinned. ‘You’ll enjoy a day out in the country,’ he
told him, reaching for his car keys. ‘Take the kid to Bath, if they’ve got room, and I’ll meet you there. Ian,’ he said to another DC who was using a black marker to list case details on a whiteboard, ‘go with him, and haul a local uniform along to assist with the search.’

‘On it, Sarge,’ Ian Grange responded, capping his pen.

‘If the boy tries to resist, cuff him,’ Bevan told Croft, ‘otherwise, try to be discreet. And don’t forget to bag everything he was wearing on Saturday night.’

‘And anything else we think might be relevant,’ Croft added, ‘but keep the search to the boy’s room and communal areas.’

‘You got it.’ Bevan heaved a sigh of annoyance as the most complicating element of the case returned to him. ‘Why did it have to be a sodding rave?’ he grumbled. ‘If we have to start tracking down all those kids… But hey, let’s not get depressed yet. There’s still a very good chance the girl’s having a change of heart even as we speak, so we could all be putting our feet up with a bevvy in front of the football tonight.’

‘Are you sure this is where we’re supposed to be?’ Annabelle said dubiously, as Sabrina turned off a leafy side street into a short tarmacked driveway. In front of them was a large detached house whose cream-painted walls and high, blue-painted window frames made it look much more like a private residence than any kind of police station they’d ever seen.

‘This is the address I was given,’ Sabrina answered, pulling her gold Lexus up alongside a black Citroën C4. There were other cars on the forecourt, but none with any kind of police insignia. ‘Wait here,’ she said, ‘I’ll go and check.’

She was barely out of the car before the front door opened and an attractive young woman with a mop of blonde curly hair and a welcoming smile came to greet her.

‘Hi,’ she said, holding out a hand to shake. ‘I’m PC Lisa Murray. Are you Mrs Paige?’

Sabrina nodded and took the girl’s hand.

‘We spoke on the phone,’ Lisa Murray clarified.

‘Annabelle’s in the car,’ Sabrina said.

Stooping so she could see, the officer smiled warmly as she said, ‘Hi, Annabelle. I’m Lisa. Would you like to come in?’

Getting warily out of the car, Annabelle glanced at her mother, then walked round to link her arm as Lisa Murray led the way inside. ‘I thought this was someone’s house,’ she said croakily.

‘It’s a special place for SAIT,’ Lisa explained, ‘the Sexual Abuse Investigation Team. We find it easier to talk to people in an environment that’s a little friendlier than a police station, a bit more like home.’

Annabelle gave a slight nod and moved even closer to her mother.

‘I’m going to take you to the waiting area now,’ Lisa informed them, directing them past two closed doors and along a blue carpeted hallway to a room at the end.

Annabelle glanced at Sabrina. It wasn’t exactly a scary place, but it was deadly quiet and smelled like a hospital gone fusty.

‘Here we are,’ Lisa said, showing them into a sort of sitting room with a big comfy sofa, two armchairs, and a coffee table with magazines and a box of Kleenex. Lockers were lined up along one wall and an old-fashioned TV stood between the frosted windows, where vertical blinds were swinging gently in the draught of the door opening. ‘Detective Sergeant Bevan is on his way. He’s the officer in charge of the investigation.’

Annabelle drew back against her mother. ‘I don’t want to talk to a man,’ she protested.

Lisa smiled sympathetically. ‘It’s OK, I’ll be interviewing you,’ she assured her. ‘He’ll be listening in, though. Now, would you like to sit down? There’s a kitchen through there, I can make some coffee if you…’

Annabelle was shaking her head. ‘I don’t want any, thank you.’

‘Me neither,’ Sabrina said, drawing Annabelle down next to her on the sofa.

Perching on the edge of an armchair, Lisa clasped her hands together and looked at them kindly. ‘I’m going to go through the procedure with you now,’ she said, ‘just so’s
you have some idea of what’s about to happen. The doctor’s already here. He’s in the medical room which we passed on our way in. Are you OK about being examined?’ she said to Annabelle.

Annabelle swallowed and nodded. ‘I think so,’ she answered.

‘Can you tell me, have you washed since it happened?’

Annabelle’s eyes widened. ‘Of course I have,’ she replied indignantly.

Lisa’s expression remained friendly. ‘That’s fine,’ she said, ‘it just makes the search for DNA a little more difficult, but not impossible.’

Annabelle stopped bristling.

‘The doctor will be checking you over for injuries,’ Lisa continued. ‘Obviously we can see those on your face and neck, but perhaps there are others on your arms or back that you haven’t noticed yet. He’ll work down your body taking wet and dry swabs – this means that he’ll be using distilled water for some, and not for others. He won’t be taking photographs. Everything will be marked on a body map. For the internal exam he’ll use a speculum – do you know what that is?’

Annabelle shook her head.

‘It’s a device that will open you up a little to allow him to take both low and high vaginal swabs which may, or may not, produce DNA that can be matched to the assailant’s.’

Annabelle seemed to shrink into herself, while next to her Sabrina’s whole body seemed cramped by the strain.

‘Because the rape took place in the early hours of Sunday morning,’ Lisa went on, ‘it’s possible that no traces exist any more, but that doesn’t mean we wouldn’t go ahead with a prosecution. Your age alone means that any act of intercourse is illegal.’ After watching mother and daughter exchange glances she wasn’t quite able to interpret, she continued. ‘Besides semen the doctor will also be looking for signs of internal trauma, tearing or bruising, that sort of thing. He’ll also take nail clippings and scrapings, and pubic-hair combings – do you have any?’ she asked gently. ‘I know the trend today is to remove it all.’

‘She had a bikini wax last Friday,’ Sabrina answered for her.

‘Actually, it was a Brazilian,’ Annabelle said in a small voice.

Sabrina turned to her, aghast. ‘But you’re too young to…’ She broke off, realising this was neither the time nor the place to make it an issue.

Being too well-trained to show exasperation at the lack of pubic hair, Lisa said, ‘It’s OK. I’m sure there won’t be a problem. Now, I have to ask if you’ve bled since the incident and used a tampon or towel?’

Annabelle shook her head. ‘I mean, there was a bit of blood, but I didn’t use anything.’

‘Did you bring everything you were wearing that night?’ Lisa asked, looking at Sabrina.

‘It’s in a bag in the car,’ Sabrina answered.

‘OK. Perhaps you can get it while Annabelle’s being interviewed.’

‘Won’t I be with her?’ Sabrina objected. ‘I think I should.’

‘I’m sorry, we have to talk to her alone.’

‘But she’s under sixteen…’

‘All the same, we still have to talk to her alone.’ Turning back to Annabelle, ‘Are you OK with that?’ she asked.

Annabelle seemed uncertain. ‘I’d like my mum to be there for the medical exam,’ she said.

‘Of course. Now, the last thing I have to tell you before we go through to the doctor is that he’ll be taking two lots of blood. I know the incident happened over twenty-four hours ago, but you still need to be tested for alcohol and drugs…I can see by your face that there’s a chance something might be found, but don’t worry, even if you used illegal substances it isn’t of any interest to us. This is simply a formality that has to be gone through that might help us to establish your frame of mind at the time of the incident.’

Annabelle’s nails were digging into her palms. She didn’t know if she wanted to go through with this now, it wasn’t turning out to be anything like she’d expected, with all these tests and procedures and stuff.

Seeming to read her mind, Lisa said, ‘I know it can seem a bit daunting at first, but once the exam is out of the way
and we’ve had our chat, you’ll be able to go home and leave everything else to DS Bevan.’

Annabelle only looked at her. Then, in a tone that surprised Lisa with its harshness, considering how meek and unsure of herself the girl had seemed up till now, she asked, ‘Has he been arrested yet?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Lisa replied carefully. ‘DS Bevan will be able to tell us when he gets here.’

Seeing Rachel’s name come up on her mobile, Alicia clicked on straight away. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘To what do I owe this pleasure in the middle of your surgery hours?’

With an ironic lilt Rachel said, ‘Just thought I’d keep you up to speed with what’s happening in Holly Wood.’

Alicia laughed. ‘And you would know because…?’

‘Canon Jeffries has just been in with his cat, and you know how he likes a bit of a gossip. So it turns out that a police car was outside your brother’s house this morning.’

Alicia’s smile died.

‘What’s more,’ Rachel went on, ‘according to the good canon, when the police left the house Sabrina and Annabelle went with them, then came back again about half an hour later.’

Alicia’s mind was firing off in too many directions, and none felt good. ‘So what do we deduce from that?’ she asked, hoping Rachel might have a more optimistic take on it.

‘No idea, except whatever the search is about it seems Annabelle could be in some way involved.’

‘I’ll give Robert a call,’ Alicia said, and after a quick goodbye she rang off and scrolled through to Robert’s mobile number.

‘Now there’s a coincidence,’ he said when he answered. ‘I was just about to ring you. Did you know there’s an art fair in Somerton at the end of August? It’s being advertised in the local paper. There might still be time for you to get your sculptures in.’

‘Thanks, but I’ve already tried and the closing date was a month ago,’ she told him. ‘What’s this I hear about the police being at your house this morning?’

There was a beat of stunned silence before he said, ‘The police were at my house? Are you sure? Do you know why?’

‘That’s what I’m asking you. Where are you?’

‘At the labs.’

‘Well, all I can tell you is that there’s some kind of search going on over in the Copse, and apparently Sabrina and Annabelle went off with the police sometime this morning.’

There was another baffled silence before he said, ‘I’ll give Sabrina a call and get back to you.’

As the line went dead, Alicia clicked off her end, and deciding to abandon the new design she was working on, she closed up her laptop and put it back in its case to carry home. Since it was gone two o’clock Nat would surely be up by now, and if he wasn’t she was going to insist he let her into his room, because it wasn’t like him to lie around in bed for so long. If he was ill he might need a doctor, and if he was depressed she needed to know.

She was just turning into The Close when a dark blue Ford Focus swept past her, followed by a marked police car. To her alarm both drew up in front of the Coach House, and as two suited men got out of the Focus a terrible foreboding came over her.

‘Hello?’ she cried, running towards them and trying to keep a rising panic from her voice.

DC Morley Croft turned around. His striking appearance, seemingly with African origins, was marred by the gash of a rose-coloured scar across one cheek. ‘Mrs Carlyle?’ he said.

‘Yes. Can I help you?’

‘Would you be Nathan Carlyle’s mother?’

‘Yes.’ Her voice sounded high-pitched and razor-thin.

‘I’m Detective Constable Morley Croft,’ he told her, ‘and this is DC Grange. We’d like to talk to your son, if he’s at home.’

Her mind was spinning so fast she could hardly speak. It was all right, she tried telling herself. They were just doing their job. Everyone was being questioned and Nat had no more to hide than she did. These were routine enquiries, because he’d been at the rave. She tried smiling, as though her friendliness might make them rethink any
dark intent. ‘If you’d like to come in,’ she said. ‘He was still in bed when I left, but I’m sure he’s up by now. Can I ask what it’s about?’

‘We need to speak to Nathan,’ Croft answered evenly.

‘But it’s connected to what’s happening in the woods, I expect?’

The detective didn’t answer, only followed her in through the front door with his colleague close behind, while the two uniformed officers waited outside.

Alicia’s chest was so tight she’d practically stopped breathing. ‘I’ll go and get him,’ she managed to utter.

‘Mum?’ Nat said from the top of the stairs.

She looked up, and felt an overpowering urge to push him back into his room, as though hiding might protect him from something she couldn’t even put a name to. ‘You’re up. Good,’ she heard herself say. ‘These gentlemen would like to speak to you.’ She turned to Croft. ‘You can go through there,’ she told him, pointing to the sitting room. ‘Shall I make some tea?’

Croft was watching Nat as he came to a halt halfway down the stairs. His young face turned so white that Alicia almost sobbed with fear.

‘Are you Nathan Douglas Carlyle?’ Croft asked.

‘Yes,’ Nat mumbled.

‘Can you tell me your date of birth?’

‘Tenth of November 1992.’

Croft nodded. ‘Nathan Douglas Carlyle, I am arresting you for the rape of Annabelle Preston and must caution you …’