Sorcerer (7 page)

‘That’s a fair point’.

‘Yes I can see that too’ said Hayward. ‘I’m not a completely heartless cad. But when Ronnie Wiseman made his allegation I confronted Griffin. He turned really evil on me and for the first time I saw another side to him. He knew where my son was’.

‘How? Was Cheryl Eaton still working at Pembroke?’

‘Yes, and apparently she’d told him everything about my son being adopted. So he arranged for him to be abducted’.

‘What?’

‘He hired a man and woman to snatch him from the garden of his home. They took him to Blackpool which is where the photo was taken. Griffin told me that if I filed Wiseman’s complaint he’d have my son killed’.

‘Are you serious?’

‘Absolutely’ said Hayward.

‘But he can’t have been more than two or three years old?’

‘Yes, he was only two but Griffin still meant it. So I didn’t file the complaint and the boy was returned safe and sound. I do feel badly about Ronnie Wiseman. How could I not do? I went against all my instincts as a police officer and I let him down’.

‘You should see him’ said Jeff. If he lived to be a hundred he’d never forget the look on Wiseman’s face. It was the ravaged look of a man defeated by the slow passing of time and by the loss of what he’d never had.  ‘He’s had absolutely nothing of a life and I’m afraid he includes you in the blame for that’.

‘I think I would too in the circumstances’.

‘And it looks like there may be many others like him out there’.

‘And all of their sad lives are down to me too, yes, I know, Jeff. I could’ve stopped it happening but I didn’t because he would’ve killed my son’.

Jeff couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for Hayward. There were no winners and losers in this. Not Hayward, not Ronnie Wiseman or any of the others. There was just a trail of sorrow and pain that led right up to the door of George and Mary Griffin.

‘Who else in the force knows anything about this, Ian?’

Hayward shook his head. He felt such intense shame even though he could never have risked his son’s life to Griffin and his twisted intentions. ‘Nobody’.

‘Ian, are you sure?’

‘The assistant chief constable’ Ian confessed. ‘He was my protector. He was a sergeant back then and he arranged for Ronnie Wiseman’s complaint to go missing’.

‘Is he going to resign?’

‘Yes by the end of today’.

‘Does Jackie know?’

‘No but I’ll have to tell her now’.

‘And does your son know he was adopted?’

‘Yes’ said Hayward. ‘But he doesn’t know that I’m his father or that Cheryl Eaton, his Aunt, is his mother. I’m still kind of in touch with the family. They’re part of my outer circle of friends if you see what I mean’.

‘I get the picture’.

‘And he’s done me proud. He went to university and got a first degree in physics. He’s now flying fighter jets for the RAF. He must be a clever little sod. And brave too’.

‘One of the heroes’.

‘Yeah, and a sexy little bugger in his flying kit’ said Hargreaves feeling a pride he couldn’t help but show on his face.

‘Isn’t there another way we could deal with this without you having to resign?’

‘No’ said Hayward. ‘Despite the circumstances I failed to report a major crime having taken place and that includes the kidnapping of my son’.

‘But what about your career, Ian?’

Hargreaves turned to Jeff and said ‘That was over the day I didn’t file Ronnie Wiseman’s complaint. It was just a question of time’.

Jeff was nursing a heavy heart when he got back to the station. If some gangster had kidnapped Toby he’d sell his soul to the devil to get him back. He understood why Hayward had done what he did. His son’s life was at stake. But it had led to the suffering of so many others. That’s why Hayward’s only choice was to resign. It still didn’t seem right though.

‘Sir?’ said Rebecca when she looked up and saw Jeff walking in.

‘Rebecca?’

‘I’ve just had word from the Antwerp police in Belgium, sir’ Rebecca went on. ‘They traced George and Mary Griffin to a house on the outskirts of the city, not far from the Dutch border. They were going to detain them’.

‘Going to?’

‘Sir, Mary Griffin died yesterday today from a massive heart attack and George Griffin is bringing the body back to the UK’.

SORCERER SIX

George Griffin got dressed and went into the kitchen. He’d brought the body of his wife Mary back home yesterday and had been immediately arrested by Jeff on suspicion of the rape of Ronnie Wiseman and two other boys from the Pembroke House years. He’d been cautioned and then released on bail pending further enquiries. Then he’d gone back to the house he’d once lived in with Mary and which was now empty because it was between tenants. But the place had been besieged with journalists waiting to talk to him and it was clear he’d have got no peace staying there. So a friend offered him the use of his Manchester city centre apartment.

‘I thought you’d appreciate this’ said Jenny Lake as she turned the sausages over in the frying pan. ‘I assume you’d like the works?’

‘If you’re cooking it, my dear, I’ll eat whatever is placed in front of me’.

‘How can you be so clam after what the police put you through yesterday? I mean, arresting you at the airport like that. You’d barely had enough time to sort out Mary’s coffin’.

‘And look at where I am today? I’ve got one of the prettiest women I’ve ever met worrying about me. It’s not all bad’.

Jenny blushed. ‘If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were a dirty old man’.

‘But that’s the point, isn’t it. You do know better’.

‘George, your wife who was my mother-in-law is barely cold’.

‘You never worried about her before’ he said as he wrapped his arms round her waist.

‘Well I’ve done a few things in life that I’m not very proud of’.

‘Including marrying my step-son?’

‘You’re the original twister of words, George’.

‘He’s so weak you’d be better off without him’.

‘Ed is my husband’.

‘And Mary was my wife but neither of those facts stopped us’.

‘Sometimes … well you can’t stop yourself despite the circumstances’.

George took Jenny’s hand. ‘I’m not going to force you into anything. I’m just glad to see you’.

‘And I’m glad to see you, George’ Jenny admitted.

‘And thank you for coming over’ said George. ‘I’d have been a bit lost without company. You don’t believe all those wicked things they’re accusing me of, do you?’

Jenny cradled George face in her hands. ‘Of course I don’t. I don’t believe a single word’.

‘Thank you. It’s so good to hear you say that’.

‘I just can’t get over the insensitivity of the police’.

‘I suppose they’ve got a job to do’ said George. ‘But they’ve got nothing on me other than the twisted words of some urchin’.

‘I believe you and I just hope they do too’.

‘They will’ said George, confidently. ‘Have no doubt or fear’.

‘And George, thank you for agreeing to pay for Gabby’s wedding. I can’t tell you what a relief that is. I’ll break it to Ed later on’.

‘Why don’t you let me do that? After all, Ed and I have got to speak at some point’.

‘I suppose that does make sense. I wasn’t relishing the idea of telling him anyway’.

‘Well now you don’t have to. I’ve lifted that particular burden off your shoulders’.

Even though he was so much older than her, there was still something about George that Jenny found alluring with the glint in his eye and the cheek in his smile. There was definitely something and she felt vulnerable in his presence. Not because she felt threatened by him. It was because she felt threatened by herself and her own feelings.

‘By the way, how did Ed take the news of his mother’s death?’

‘It’s hard to say. You know what Ed’s like. I told him. I poured him a glass of scotch, he drank it and I filled his glass up again. I’ve no idea what he was thinking but then I never do’.

Jenny served up the sausages with some bacon, fried eggs, baked beans, fried bread, mushrooms and tomatoes.  She’d just made some toast for herself. She’d come round early and hadn’t managed to eat anything before she’d left home.

They were just finishing off their breakfast when the intercom buzzer sounded.

‘If that’s anybody from the press they’re going to get a piece of my mind’ said Jenny. She lifted up the handset and said ‘Hello?’

‘Police’ said Jeff. ‘We’re here to see Mr. George Griffin. Is he in?’

‘Yes’ said Jenny, tentatively. ‘But can I remind you that he’s here to bury his wife?’

‘Just let us in, please’.

Jeff and Rebecca plus the two uniformed officers went up in the lift to the eighth floor and apartment 35. Jenny let them in after the warrant cards had been shown.

‘I think you know why we’re here, Mr. Griffin’ said Jeff. Some of the other former residents of Pembroke House had spoken of listening to other boys whimpering and begging for mercy. They spoke of the terror of being accused of ‘telling’. And they spoke of lives having been destroyed before they’d even begun and all because they’d had the misfortune to have been placed in Pembroke.  

‘I know what’s been said about me’.

‘Indeed’ said Jeff. ‘You need to accompany us to the station. Could you get your coat, please?’

‘And if I refuse?’

‘You’re not in a position to refuse, Mr. Griffin’.

Jenny was outraged. ‘You can’t do this. George is in mourning for God’s sake!’

‘Just let us do our job please, Mrs. Lake’ said Jeff.

‘This is bloody outrageous!’ Jenny exclaimed.

‘So, Mr. Griffin?’ said Jeff. ‘Are you going to come quietly?’

‘Don’t worry, Jenny’ said George in a soft, soothing tone though without taking his eyes off Jeff. ‘They don’t have anything on me and they’ll soon understand that’.

In the interview room at the station, George Griffin suddenly looked all of his sixty-one years. The demeanor of unbridled confidence had gone. He looked more defiant than dapper.

‘I should remind you, Mr. Griffin that you are still on bail and I presume your solicitor here, Mr. Harvey Jones, has explained the legal position to you?’

‘Yes’ said George. He looked at Harvey Jones sitting next to him. The two of them had been in some strange situations over the years but this one topped it all. ‘He has’.

‘Mr. Griffin, we have three counts of sexually assault made against you by three different alleged victims all of whom have sworn that that they were assaulted on numerous occasions. What is your response to the allegation?’

‘I told you yesterday, detective, that I don’t push shit up a hill’.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘The allegations or so-called are a total fabrication’ said Griffin, forcefully. ‘The boys were always saying we’d done this or that to them, it was their way of getting back at us for the discipline they’d never been used to before’.

‘In Mr. Wiseman’s statement …’

‘ … so he can read and write properly? That’s a bloody miracle in itself’.

Jeff chose to ignore that. ‘In his statement, Mr. Wiseman goes into great detail about exactly what happened to him on one particular night. He repeats the allegation that it was you who penetrated him anally by force. He was constrained and there was nothing he could do to stop you’.

‘Has he developed some kind of BDSM fetish over the years? He needed to find something that would make him interesting. He was such a boring little bastard if I remember rightly’.

‘Can you tell me your version of what happened that night?’

‘I can’t remember what I was doing on some random night twenty odd years ago but it certainly wasn’t what I’ve been accused of detective’.

Jeff breathed in deeply. He was determined not to give in to this creep but still he could’ve reached over and ripped his kidney right through his ear hole.

‘So I take it you do remember Ronnie Wiseman?’

‘Well yes, I remember him because he was so unremarkable. Just an ugly, miserable little excuse for a decent human being’.

‘Mr. Griffin, can you describe the layout of the basement at Pembroke House?’

‘Well if I remember correctly it was just a large fairly cavernous space, deceptively large. We used it as a store room’.

‘Did you use it for anything else?’

‘Not to my knowledge’.

‘So you were unaware of the dungeon that was off the basement area?’

‘A dungeon?’ George chuckled. ‘Rather a dramatic term, isn’t it? Well no I wasn’t aware of a dungeon down there’.

‘Are you sure about that, Mr. Griffin?’

‘Detective, despite all these years in Spain I haven’t lost my grasp of the English language. I said no and I mean no’.