Acid Row (38 page)

Tyler recalled Kimberley's words. '7 bet she's skulking in a hole somewhere so she can pretend she's got friends.. ." Two sides of the same coin. “When did you buy the mobile?”

"After those calls the Logan children witnessed. I didn't want them telling Laura what she was doing. Amy kept saying she'd kill herself if she wasn't allowed to see .. ." His voice faltered to a halt.

Tyler found the emotion as fake as the tan. "I hope you're not planning to stand up in court and portray yourself as St. Eddy who saved a child from suicide?“ he snapped. ”Abduction's a very serious crime, Mr. Townsend."

I know .. . but what else could I do?"

Tyler gave a snort of derision. "I can't see a jury being impressed by your sudden flight to Majorca for sex with an Amy lookalike when the child herself was begging you for help."

"I didn't have much choice. I had creditors on my back. I left John Finch to sort it in my absence."

“Why take Franny with you?”

“She seemed a good alternative.”

To Amy?"

“Yes .. . till she got drunk.” He stared at his hands. "I'm not proud of any of this, Inspector."

Tyler turned his face to the passenger window so Townsend wouldn't see his expression. "Why didn't you tell Laura her daughter was suicidal?"

"She took Amy away because she was jealous of the closeness we had.

What do you think she'd have done if I'd called her and said Amy wants to kill herself because she'd rather live with me? She'd have blocked every call, then gone into a nervous breakdown when she came home and found her daughter dangling from the banisters." Butler watched him raise a hand as if to plead for belief, then drop it again. "She said she'd do it in the morning while Miss Piggy and Jabba were asleep, and she hoped everyone would cry when she was dead, because the only person who cried about her life was her."

“Children often talk like that.”

“I believed her.”

Tyler turned to look at him again. "Why didn't you speak to her father?" he asked cynically.

“He'd have taken her back immediately.”

“Why? You keep telling me how indifferent he is to her.”

"He is. It's Laura he wants preferably on her knees -begging for her kid. He's a type. Dominating .. . possessive .. . He can't forgive her for finding the courage to leave. He'll punish her for ever if he can. Look at what he's done to me."

Tyler nodded. Even without the evidence of the hatchet job Rogerson had done on Townsend's company, Tyler believed the man to be intensely vindictive. But.. . “Then why take his wife?” he said unfeelingly.

“You must have known what would happen.”

"I didn't. Not at the time. I used to listen to the way he talked to her .. . saw the way he treated Amy .. . like an irritating mosquito.

It never occurred to me he'd be jealous if they left. In any case, it was Laura who made the running. I wouldn't have bothered if it hadn't been for Amy."

“You didn't find Laura attractive?”

“Not particularly.”

"Then why make tapes of her? Why make tapes of any of the women whose children you fancied?"

“It made them less suspicious.”

Gary Butler glanced up to find Townsend looking at him in the mirror and, like the DCI, he began to wonder how truthful any of these answers were. They were certainly glib, although why any man should want to paint himself as a paedophile was beyond him.

“Did Laura know about the other tapes?” Tyler asked. "The ones you made of your wife and stepdaughter? Did Martin tell her?"

“I don't think so.”

“Did Martin warn you to keep your hands off Amy?”

“No.”

He turned again. “Did you ever discuss your paedophilia with him?”

“No.” Another flicker of amusement. “He's not that type of man.”

“Is he the type to download indecent images of children?”

Townsend shook his head. “Not children.”

“Women?”

A nod. "You asked me earlier what happened to the tapes I made of Laura .. . Martin's got them. It was her parting present to him. Add them to your collection, she said. Make some other poor idiot watch me in order to work up enough enthusiasm to have sex with you."

Tyler smiled slightly. "You realize, of course, that we'll be searching your computers for evidence of pornography, Mr. Townsend particularly child porno grapy either downloaded by you or on websites operated by you. Do you want to save us time by telling us what to look for?"

“There's nothing to find. I'm not into Net pornography.”

Tyler resumed his study of the passing countryside. He had a sneaking admiration for the man's cunning. Even the public would be on his side when they learnt that the child was alive and hadn't been interfered with. They might even sympathize with his dilemma. To rescue or not to rescue? He might have sympathized with it himself if he could believe that Townsend was capable of loving anyone but himself.

“You're bullshitting me,” he said after a moment. "I'm prepared to accept you have an obsession with youth I only have to look at you to see that but I'm hard pushed to believe that that obsession extends to sex with ten-year-olds. You're willing to exploit them that I don't doubt for a moment but I can't see you engaging in illegal intercourse.

You're like a heroin dealer .. . happy to peddle filth but not stupid enough to become involved yourself."

“I don't deal in children.”

"Of course you do. Women, too. You're an Internet pimp. We'll find it ... It may take time .. . and we may not get all of it ... but I will have you for it, Mr. Townsend. Off the top of my head, I'd guess it began with your first wife, who was probably as enthusiastic as you about performing to camera, which is why she went coy at the time of the divorce. After that, you sought out women and kids who were happy to show off. It made it easier."

“That's crazy,” said the other man without heat. "Where's the money?"

“Anywhere you like. You can wire it all over the world these days.” He turned with an inquiring expression. "Perhaps this errant half million represents part of it? What happened to that? Did someone else get to it first? Or did it never exist?"

Townsend put his head against the back of his seat and stared at the roof of the car.

Tyler chuckled. "You don't fancy children any more than I do. You just want us to think you do. A repentant, self-confessed paedophile with no previous convictions who hasn't interfered with the child he's abducted or any other child in his care -will receive a far lighter sentence than a man who kidnaps a child for extortion."

Townsend continued to stare at the ceiling. "You're pissing in the wind, Inspector."

"You were keeping Amy nicely on tap till you needed her. Presumably this little charade was set up for next weekend, then you got a message from John Finch to say Rogerson had advanced the meeting. So you hightail it back for her. I'm betting there's an interesting video hidden in that laptop of yours of Rogerson's daughter acting the tart.

I'm also betting you were going to show it to him before the meeting which is why you were so shocked to hear he was under arrest. What was the threat going to be if he didn't back down? Sell her to the highest bidder? Plaster her across the Net?"

“All you'll find in my laptop is a spreadsheet on Etstone,” he said evenly.

“No one's that good, Mr. Townsend. We'll find it eventually.”

“There's nothing to find. Ask Amy. It was all very innocent.”

"At the moment, she'll be saying whatever you've told her to say .. .

but it won't last. You may not have touched her, but it won't take a professional long to find out if you persuaded her to take her knickers down to show her father just how much control you have over her. I think you're a sick fucker, frankly, but you're not a nonce. Any more than Martin Rogerson is. As you say, he prefers women .. . which is what he says about you." He chuckled again at the man's expression.

"I'd rather do you for kidnap and extortion. That's a hell of a long sentence. You shouldn't exploit people's love for their children, Mr.

Townsend."

"What love? What makes you think Martin would back down because of a video? Everyone knows he doesn't give a shit about Amy."

“So you keep saying,” the DCI murmured, 'and if you repeat it often enough you might convince a jury. It won't work with Laura, though. No one will believe she didn't love her child." He levelled a finger at the man. "That's what I'm going to hound you for. Making an already insecure child believe that her mother didn't love her. I've sat with the woman .. . dragged her sad little secrets out of her .. . watched her pain .. . listened to her guilt. And, by God, I haven't enjoyed it. She knows she's imperfect .. . knows that Amy wishes she were different .. . but that doesn't give a prick like you the right to manipulate her child's affections.

Saturday 28 July 2001 inside 23 Humbert Street

SOPHIE KNELT BESIDE Jimmy's prone body. The top third of his ear had been severed from his scalp, but he was alive. He lay half in and half out of the kitchen, muttering to himself against the floor, saliva dribbling from his mouth. There was no one downstairs. The door of the back room stood open, but the only noise inside the house seemed to be coming from upstairs. Laughter and singing. Sophie could make out some words.

'.. . we are the champions .. . we are the champions .. . we are the champions of EWORLD .. ."

Feet drummed on the floor like a tattoo. In celebration1? Coming downstairs1? She didn't know. She rolled Jimmy over and smacked him hard across the face. “Wake up, you bugger!” she said as loudly as she dared into his bleeding ear. “It's Sophie! Mel needs help.”

He opened his eyes and she slapped him again. “Go away,” he mumbled.

“I'm tired.”

This time she grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "Mel's in trouble,“ she said urgently. ”I need you to come with me. There are people upstairs. Do you understand?"

The movement hurt his head and he clapped a hand to his torn ear. "Ah shi-i-it What the fuck!"

“Wake UP!” she snarled, smacking him again. "I'm SICK of men passing out on me!"

He sat up abruptly, recollection flooding back .. . Wesley . the machete .. . the soldier. He looked around. “Where's Wesley?”

“Upstairs,” she said, grabbing his hand and urging him to his feet. "We have to go."

“What about the old man?”

“Safe,” she said, thinking he meant Franck. “Come on ... come on.” She urged him down the corridor towards the front door. "Harry said Mel fell under the feet of the crowd. We need to get her out. I'm worried about the baby. You'll have to carry her."

She had an awful sense of foreboding as she reached for the latch. It reminded her of the last time she'd stood by that door when she could have walked out but didn't because a patient's son said thank you and she paused to smile at him. She turned painfully to Jimmy. "I'm frightened," she said.

“Yeah,” he said, 'me, too." He caught her arm and drew her behind him.

“I've got a really bad feeling about this,” he muttered. "It's too fucking quiet."

She clutched at his jacket. “What should we do?”

He took a deep breath and twisted the latch. “Get ready to run,” he said, easing the door open.

Command centre -police helicopter footage The police could calculate to the second how long it took for the bestiality of the lynching to metamorphose from laughter to shock.

Almost every face was turned upwards towards the window as Wesley paraded his prize. An old man with his shorts round his ankles, blood running down his legs and a noose round his neck. Expressions were vivid. Eager. Amused. Did they understand what was happening? Did they approve? Had the movies innured them to reality?

Who knew?

The journey to shock was equally vivid. Perhaps they thought it was a mannequin that Wesley had tossed so carelessly from the window to dance on its rope, because a wave of laughter rippled across the faces. Soon after, the smiles turned to puzzlement. Some continued to watch Wesley strut his stuff, but most averted their eyes. There was a spontaneous push away from the centre. A girl dropped to her knees and was sick on the pavement. On the fringes, the crowd began to melt away through the exits.

It wasn't their fault. They hadn't asked the black boy to behave like a maniac. It was pretty bad what he'd done, but, hell ... it was only a fucking paedophile!

Outside 23 Humbert Street Gaynor lifted a sweat-drenched face to look at Jimmy but didn't pause in her attempts to revive Colin. Straight-armed, she was pumping his heart. “One two three four five.” She bent to breathe air into his mouth. “We think Mel's alive three -four five.” Another breath.

“Please help three four five.”

Sophie dropped to her knees beside the black woman who was holding Melanie's wrist between her fingers. “We got her back,” she said tears rolling down her cheeks. "See. It's like on Casualty. She's breathing. She's got a pulse. Ain't that right?"

Sophie pressed her fingers to the girl's neck. “Yes,” she said. "Oh God! Oh God! Thank you. Thank you." She raised her own tear-stained face to Jimmy's. "Talk to her, sweetheart. Tell her how much you love her. The quicker you can bring her back the better. Make her listen.

It's your voice she hears all the time, Jimmy. Nobody else's. She's told me over and over again how much she loves you."

Jimmy sank to his knees and pressed his hand to his lady's face. "Help Gaynor,“ he said. ”Col's her baby, too."

But Colin was dead.

Monday 30 July 2001 MEMO From: DCI Tyler To: Superintendent Hamilton Date: 30.07.01 Re: Charges relating to the abduction of Amy Biddulph/Rogerson Sir Updated information is as follows:

No evidence of incest against Martin Rogerson. Both Laura and Amy deny any such intimacy took place. Laura has confirmed his interest in soft pornography.

Rogerson admits that if Townsend had threatened to send tapes of his daughter 'posturing to camera' to his colleagues and clients, he might have 'been more amenable' to postponing Townsend's bankruptcy. "A man in my position can't afford scandal." Less concerned about the images being logged on the Net, interestingly. "No one would know who she was."