Nightmare City (46 page)

Henry ran quickly through the legal definition of rape in his
mind. Only the slightest degree of penetration needed to be proved,
neither did the emission of seed have to take place. The other main
thread to the offence was the question of consent. Was there true
consent to the act of intercourse, or was it obtained by fear,
force or fraud? Henry had dealt with enough rapes to know the
pitfalls of proving it to a court; Siobhan would struggle to
convince a jury she had been raped.

It was the others elements of her allegation which worried
him.

Sexual harassment.

Indecent assault.

The former was strongly condemned by the police service and
many male officers had lost their jobs because of it; the latter
was a serious criminal offence which was often used in place of
rape because it was easier to prove. It could lose him his job too
- especially if he was in prison.

And I stopped myself from shagging her just to prevent future
repercussions, he thought. Now I wish I’d carried on. What the hell
was behind this?

Henry calmly relayed his side of the story.

‘
Whatever the truth of the matter,’ Morton said when Henry had
concluded, ‘and I don’t suppose we’ll get to it anyway, this is a
very serious matter, Henry. Very, very serious.’

‘
I realise that.’

‘
It affects so many others, directly or indirectly - the job,
the squad, your wife, kids. . . God, the effect it could have on
them beggars the imagination,’ Morton emphasised, making Henry
squirm. ‘Your friends, colleagues. Mud sticks, old lad, even if
these allegations prove to be unfounded.’

And wives divorce you.

And friends snub you.

Oh, shit.

‘
But at the moment,’ Morton explained, ‘no one but we three
know about this. Maybe there is a solution. Let me have a think
about it.’

His mind reeling, Henry made his way back to the comfort zone
of his desk and slumped heavily down in the chair. His first
reaction had been to find Siobhan and demand of her what the hell
she was playing at, but he’d been severely warned against this
course of action. Anything which smelled of intimidation or
victimisation would be dealt with harshly, Morton had
said.

Henry’s thoughts were bleak. He had never considered himself
to be a sexual harasser. The notion made his skin crawl. Maybe he
always had been, but hadn’t recognised it. Maybe he was so immersed
in the sexist white heterosexual culture, he couldn’t see when he
was harassing a woman. Could he be one of those men who made his
blood boil? Those who constantly touched women, patted their arses,
brushed against their tits? Perhaps he was.

Kate!

She would go ballistic. His eyes closed in a shudder of
despair.

Two years of getting his marriage back on the straight and
narrow. Working hard at it. Putting family first. It had taken a
lot of dedication and love.

Once again through his own foolishness it was very likely to
come tumbling down around his ears.

How the hell could he keep this quiet?

Just then, his day took a further turn for the worse. In
stalked Superintendent Guthrie from the Discipline and Complaints
branch.

Henry suddenly felt weaker than alcohol-free lager.

For the second time that day, Henry came out from an
interaction with a higher-ranking officer with his head in a spin.
Again he had difficulty taking in what was told him. This time
things were in his favour, but even so it did not feel like a
victory. It simply added to his overall confusion.

Shane Mulcahy had been into the police station earlier and
retracted his complaint of assault, saying that everything was his
fault. He’d pulled a hidden knife on the detective and the officer
had acted in reasonable self-defence. In other words, Shane
admitted he deserved what he got - a knee in the
bollocks.

And to add weight to the retraction, Superintendent Guthrie
said he had checked the custody record and found it backed up
Henry’s description of the fight in the cell corridor.

‘
What?’ Henry had said, totally perplexed. ‘You mean the
custody record says..?’

‘
That you acted in self-defence, yes.’ The Superintendent
winked at Henry. ‘I knew things would work out for you. They always
do when it’s a flimsy allegation. So, all I need to do is tie the
loose ends up and write the whole unpleasant incident off. And I
hope you learn something from the experience.’

‘
I’m sure I shall.’

On leaving the room Henry made his way quickly to the custody
office where he looked up the relevant custody record.

It was true.

Eric Taylor had written that he’d observed the tussle between
him and Shane, and had entered it onto the custody
record.

Except it wasn’t the original entry, as Henry well knew.
Because he’d checked the custody record last week and been in
despair that firstly he’d forgotten to make an entry himself, and
secondly that Eric Taylor did not leave him any space to write
something in later.

Henry knew that Taylor was a good custody officer. Very fair
in his dealings with prisoners and police officers alike. So why
had he changed the entry in Henry’s favour?

Not something Taylor would have done in a million
years.

He replaced the custody record binder on the shelf and
sauntered back up to the CID office, trying desperately to get a
grip on what had happened. He found it impossible and very
disturbing.

‘
We need to judge this just right,’ Morton was saying. His
audience consisted of Gallagher, Tattersall and Siobhan Robson.
‘Henry’s a dangerous individual because, basically, he’s honest. He
might bend the rules to get a conviction, but you can bet it’ll be
watertight in the end and will survive even the most ruthless
scrutiny. So, people, how do we proceed?’

Gallagher replied, ‘He might be honest, but he’s not stupid.
He’ll know when the cards are stacked against him and I’m sure
he’ll hold his hands up.’ He laughed.

‘
Siobhan?’ Morton raised his eyebrows to her.

‘
Go straight for him,’ she said in a brittle tone. ‘Lay it on
the line. He’ll realise he hasn’t any choice and he’ll stick with
us. He’s not stupid, as Gallie says.’ She nodded towards the DI.
‘He doesn’t want to lose his job and his wife.’

There was a knock on the door. ‘Come,’ said Morton.
Superintendent Guthrie, Discipline and Complaints, poked his head
through the door. He held up a finger. ‘Done and dusted,’ he
said.

‘
Thanks, Will,’ Morton said. ‘See you later about
it.’

Guthrie closed the door.

Morton clamped his fist tight triumphantly. ‘Right! This will
be a difficult time, for us
and
him. His first reaction may be to go running to
someone else and blurt everything out. If he does that, we need to
be watertight. Are we?’

‘
I am,’ said Siobhan.

‘
Me too.’ Gallagher.

The laconic Tattersall merely nodded.

‘
Right. Let’s wheel him in, drop a few more bombshells on him,
then see where we stand.’

Henry tapped without confidence on Tony Morton’s door. He had
been summoned once more, probably, he guessed, to receive an update
on the Siobhan affair. ‘Come,’ he heard Morton call out.

Henry pushed the door open, expecting to see only Morton. It
knocked him sideways when he firstly saw Siobhan, then Gallagher,
then Tattersall, sitting in there too. They were in a semi-circle
facing Morton’s desk. At the open end of the semi-circle was an
empty chair.

Henry had a quick look round for The Four Horses of the
Apocalypse.

Overcoming an urge to run away and hide in a toilet, he
entered the room. If he’d had a tail it would have been between his
legs. His eyes avoided contact with Siobhan’s; his mouth was arid
extra dry. Tattersall stood up and approached Henry. ‘Let me search
you.’

‘
Eh?’

‘
You heard.’

Gallagher rose from his seat and without warning he and
Tattersall hurled Henry against the wall.

‘
What the fuck’s going on here?’ Henry demanded. He flicked
around and tried to pull himself out of their grasp.

Gallagher punched him hard in the chest with the base of his
hand.

Henry bent double as the pain from the bullet-wound
corkscrewed out through his heart and lungs.

Gallagher and Tattersall hoisted him up against the wall and
searched him quickly and expertly. They then manhandled him to the
chair and threw him onto it. His arms crossed over his breast and
nursed the pain. He looked up at Morton, unable to speak for the
moment.

Gallagher seized a handful of Henry’s fine hair and pulled his
head back. He looked down at him and said, ‘That is to show you we
are not pissing about, Christie.’

The two detectives sat down.

‘
What the fuck’s going on here?’ Henry struggled to
say.

Morton took a deep sigh and stared coldly at him before he
began sombrely. ‘There are a few things that have been brought to
my attention since this morning’s complaint from DC Robson
here.’

There was a sheet of paper on the desk top. Morton held it up
for Henry to see. His watery eyes found it hard to focus. ‘This a
photocopy of the firearms authorisation sheet used by the NWOCS. It
clearly shows you booked a firearm out without my signature to
authorise it.’ Morton indicated the offending blank space on the
form.

‘
But she said,’ he turned hopelessly to face Siobhan, ‘it was
OK to do that. That you’d automatically sign the form later.’ He
looked at Morton again. Then back to Siobhan. ‘Come on, tell him. I
did what you said.’

A warm trickle ran down Henry’s neck. He wiped it and saw
blood on his hand. His ear had started bleeding again.

She remained silent, her eyes as cold as ice cubes.

‘
This is fucking outrageous,’ Henry spat, and got to his feet.
‘What the hell is this?’

Tattersall moved quickly, followed by Gallagher. A well-aimed
blow to the kidneys from the DS brought Henry to his knees in front
of Morton’s desk. Gallagher forced his head onto the desk, holding
his cheek to the wooden surface, squelching his features, but
allowing him to look up at Morton.

‘
A very serious discipline offence,’ he heard the Chief
Superintendent say. Morton’s eyes lifted and looked at Gallagher.
‘Put him back on the chair.’

Two pairs of hands lifted him bodily back and deposited him
like dumping a sack of rubbish.

‘
I don’t know what’s going on here, but as soon as I get out
of this room every one of you is in deep shit.’

Morton laughed. ‘Henry, you’re splitting my sides. If you do
anything like that, I promise you’ll face a charge of rape as well
as a civil litigation suit for harassment. Both will stick. That’s
a promise too.’

Henry had lost all sense of comprehension. His mind was being
blown, like he was on some kind of hallucinogenic drug, and he was
adrift on the Sea of Unreality.

‘
How did your D & C interview go?’

‘
What’s that gotta do with anything?’ As he was speaking he
analysed the question. ‘You!’ he said.

‘
No, not quite,’ Morton said affably. ‘In essence, yes. But in
reality - no. You did it, Henry. It was all your work. Bribing that
poor custody officer to change the record so it read in your
favour. You beat the living shit out of that defenceless young man
- what’s he called - Shane. Just so he would retract his statement.
All in all, you’ve been a very busy and naughty boy, Henry. What do
they call it? Perverting the course of justice.’

‘
I deny it.’

‘
Well, you would, wouldn’t you? But that’s neither here nor
there. The point is that we’ - here Morton indicated everyone in
the room, including himself - ‘could, if necessary, prove you did.
And that’s all that matters, isn’t it? So all in all you’re well
and truly stitched up, as they say.

‘
Let’s look at it. Firstly there’s sexual harassment. Then
there’s rape, or indecent assault at the very least. And we can
find the necessary witnesses if we have to. Then there’s the
discipline offence re the firearm. That in itself could lose you
your job. Then there’s perverting the course of justice and, of
course, planting evidence.’

‘
What the hell are you talking about?’

‘
Those guns found in Anderson’s Shogun. You were left alone
with the car for a few short minutes and lo and behold, guns
appear. Very neat, wouldn’t you say?’

Henry thought back to the incident. How Siobhan had gone to
the toilet, leaving him to start the search of Anderson’s vehicle.
And then him finding the guns.

‘
Fucking bad news all this,’ Morton said. ‘Individually
they’re horrendous. Put them all together, pal, they’re
devastating. You are a very corrupt and perverted individual, and
we have done well to unmask you, wouldn’t you say? You will never
recover from these allegations professionally or personally, once
they start being investigated. What d’you say, Henry? Cat got your
tongue?’