Behind Dead Eyes (10 page)

‘I get that,' said Tom, ‘but did he really have to stand in the witness box and list every conquest he'd ever made?'

‘It wasn't quite like that,' argued the barrister.

‘
Serial Shag-Around
and
Lying Love Rat
were just two of the following day's headlines.'

‘The gutter press misrepresented him,' said Nixon, ‘as they are apt to do. Some of the coverage was scandalous.'

‘I don't think they did,' said Tom.

‘Well, you're a journalist.'

Tom reached for his notebook and began to read aloud from his shorthand notes of the trial coverage. ‘ “I've always liked women and very often they have been attracted to me. I enjoy their company and usually find sex easy to come by. I know I should not have continued seeing other women once I was married but I became convinced I was somehow entitled to do this because of the stresses of my life. I enjoyed
the thrill of the chase and freely admit I was attracted to the forbidden nature of these affairs. I knew it was wrong but I couldn't help myself. I enjoy sex and, from what I have been told I am good at it. I suppose I must be, because they usually come back for more.” ' Tom raised his eyebrows at that. ‘Now tell me he doesn't sound like a narcissistic prick who thinks he is above society's norms and therefore capable of murdering his inconvenient mistress?'

‘On reflection …' began the barrister ‘… this is off the record, right?'

Tom nodded. ‘Entirely.'

‘… it was a mistake. You have to understand our biggest fear before the trial was that the prosecution might uncover Richard Bell's double life and use it against him. It seems he was addicted to having affairs left, right and bloody centre and if we could discover this, it was highly likely they would too. If we got him to stand up in the witness box and say he was a family man who had strayed once in having this affair then the prosecution produced evidence of all of his other … misdemeanours, we would be dead in the water. We thought it was better to grasp the nettle and get it all out in the open early on, so the jury knew the kind of man he was and maybe they could deal with it.'

‘But instead?'

‘They hated him,' admitted the barrister. ‘I could see it in their eyes the whole time he was up there. We advised him to throw himself on the mercy of the jury, admit he had done some very bad things and beg his wife for forgiveness.'

‘But that's not how it went.'

‘I think he just couldn't help himself. He'd been successfully seducing all these women on the sly but he had no one
to tell it too. I think you're right, Mr Carney, he is a narcissist and he wanted the world to know about it. Once his affair with Rebecca was known, the dam burst and he figured what the hell; might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.'

‘You were playing a high-risk strategy,' said Tom, ‘but there was logic behind it and Bell didn't help himself.'

‘You can only lead a client in a certain direction if he chooses to follow you. Nobody was more frustrated by the outcome than me, I can assure you. I don't like to lose.'

‘That alibi of his. You were never able to trace the girl.'

‘There were vague reports she may have gone to Ko Samui or Bali but she never told anyone where she was off to. She was just an Aussie girl who'd been all over Britain and was now off seeing the rest of the world. We knew that if we did find her she would probably just say she never wrote the note Richard claimed to have received from her. She was long gone by the time he received it, so it wasn't much of an alibi. If anything she would probably have harmed his case.'

‘Who did write it then?'

‘If it really existed? Your guess is as good as mine.'

‘Thank you for your time. It's been useful,' Tom told him, ‘I do have one last question though.'

‘What's that?'

‘Did he do it?'

The barrister snorted. ‘How should I know?'

‘Alright then,' Tom corrected himself, ‘do you
think
he did it?'

Nixon seemed happier with the rephrased question, so much so that he allowed himself a lengthy period of reflection. Tom became conscious of traffic noises outside then the voices of a couple of teenage girls from several floors below.

Finally the barrister spoke. ‘If you are asking me whether I think he did it, then I genuinely don't know. If you are asking if he is
capable
of the act, then my answer has to be an emphatic yes.'

Tom was taken aback by this. ‘Why do you say that?'

‘Because I think that Richard Bell shows all of the signs,' Nixon said to him, ‘the absence of regret or remorse, the inability to play by society's rules, the tacit enjoyment of risk and the lack of inhibition in his sexual behaviour. Most of all, I suppose, his lack of empathy.'

‘All the signs?' asked Tom.

‘Of a psychopath.'

Ian
Bradshaw was surprised to be summoned straight to DI Tennant's office as soon as he arrived at headquarters. He figured she was about to ask him where he had been that morning and was about to rummage for his excuse when instead she quizzed him about Kane.

‘Did the DCI have a reason for nabbing you like that?' She sounded suspicious as if he had brought this upon himself somehow.

‘It was like you said, ma'am, he just wanted a lift home.'

‘And why was he unable to drive himself home?'

Bradshaw got the impression she already knew the answer to that question. ‘He said there was something wrong with his car.'

‘He said or there was?' she asked, but he wasn't daft enough to go there.

‘Both, I assumed.'

‘Mmm. And what did you talk about on the way to his house?'

‘Ma'am?' He put deliberate bafflement into his tone, as if he couldn't imagine why she would want to know that. Bradshaw wanted to tell her it was none of her business but he suspected that would get him into a whole new world of trouble. ‘Nothing much, but he did ask me about my future and aspirations.' Bradshaw hoped he might be on safe ground with that.

‘Did he now? And what did you say?'

‘I said I was happy where I was for the time being.'

‘Why? Don't you want to get on?' Tennant asked sharply.

‘Yes, of course I do.'

‘So when a senior officer asks you about your future you tell him you're happy to stay put?' The raised eyebrows told him she was unimpressed.

‘I just meant I was in no particular hurry.'

‘DCI Kane won't mistake you for an overly ambitious officer then.' And she left that thought hanging. ‘So where have you been this morning?'

‘Following up on a lead.' He wasn't about to tell her he was staking out Tom Carney's home for DCI Kane so instead gave her his theory about the burned girl having a tattoo. He had been keeping this to himself until now but it was a useful smokescreen

She listened and when he had finished his explanation said, ‘That's useful,' though she sounded uncertain, as if surprised he could have come up with it. ‘That's good work.'

‘Will that be all, ma'am?' he asked stiffly.

Kate Tennant sighed her exasperation. ‘Just get back to work, Ian.'

Mark Birkett lived on a building site. His house was the only completed property in a cul-de-sac full of newbuilds. There were twenty houses on the development, in varying stages of completion, and they flanked a curving, half-finished road that had rough foundations but no tarmacadam to smooth it over, so the drainage and manhole covers stuck up out of the road, causing Tom Carney's car to bump all the way along Runnymede Lane. It had rained that morning and slick wet mud clung to Tom's tyres. He parked outside the only house with a roof, got out of his car and knocked on the door.

‘You found me then,' Birkett observed sullenly. ‘Most people don't.'

Tom had phoned to explain his interest in Richard Bell's case. He got the impression Birkett had allowed him to come round because he couldn't think of a good reason to prevent it but he didn't look pleased to see Tom.

The house was small and neat; a decent starter home for a young family. Tom was invited into a tiny lounge, which barely had room for an armchair, sofa and a TV.

‘I understand you and Richard were close,' said Tom.

‘Not really.'

‘But you were best man at his wedding.'

‘Someone had to be. I wouldn't say I was any closer to Richard than a number of blokes who went to college with him. We hung out in the same group of friends, went out drinking together but I barely saw him after university. A couple of years after graduating, he called me up, told me he was getting married and wanted me to be best man.'

‘Were you surprised?'

‘At the best man bit? Yes, but not about the getting married part.'

‘Why do you say that? Seems a bit young these days.'

‘It was logical. He already had everything he wanted.'

‘So it wasn't just because he was in love with the girl?'

‘Who said he was in love with her.' Birkett looked a little uncomfortable then. ‘Look, I've nothing against Annie but I wouldn't say it was a normal romance, it was more—'

‘A meeting of minds,' offered Tom sarcastically, ‘or a marriage of convenience?'

‘When he married Annie he got the full package: the woman with the brains and the career, the job with her old
man's firm; her dad already got them a big house. I think he bought into all of it, that's all. I think he married Annie because he didn't want to jeopardise things.'

‘Are you saying he didn't love her?'

‘I have no idea if he loved her or not. I'm saying he married the boss's daughter. The rest of us were out there trying to get a leg-up in our first jobs, paying off student debts, renting tiny rooms in crappy, shared houses. He already had everything. On the rare occasions we did get together it was a bit jarring. He was living in a different world, driving a brand new car with golf clubs in the boot, eating in restaurants I wouldn't dream of going to. He was way ahead of us and it was all so effortless.'

‘I see. So tell me about this other girl at college,' Tom said, ‘Amy, the one who called the police when he hit her.'

‘Oh that,' Mark said as if it was no big deal. ‘Well I guess it all came up in court, so it's no secret. In our first year Richard was an absolute hound. He had a different girl every week, or as near as. Most of us were lucky to get one a term but with Richard it was easy. He had the looks, he had the patter, women just fell for him but he never showed any inclination to stop rutting around,' Birkett smiled grimly, ‘until he met Amy.'

‘Then he changed?'

‘We were in our second year by then. We'd moved out of halls and were sharing a grotty place on the edge of town. We threw a house-warming and she showed up with her mate.'

‘Is that how he met her?'

Birkett nodded. ‘She was a fresher and didn't know anyone but I tell you every bloke in that room stopped what he was doing when she walked in.'

‘Good-looking?'

‘Stunning.'

‘So every guy wanted her but Richard was the one who started going out with her?'

‘Predictably so – and to be fair to him he did carry on seeing her. This wasn't a one-night thing for once.'

‘How long were they in a relationship?'

Birkett shrugged. ‘Six months or so, but back in college that's a lifetime.'

‘So what went wrong?'

‘Who knows, but one day Amy suddenly called it off.'

‘And you don't know why?'

‘Who can tell for sure what goes through a young girl's head? I got his side of it, of course. He was devastated. He thought they were a permanent item. Apparently she didn't.'

‘Why not?'

‘He said she wasn't ready for it. Amy was too young and wanted to see the world
and
other people. She was a bit of a free spirit and Richard was quite old-fashioned in some ways, which is a bit of contradiction when you consider what he was like in his first year.'

‘What happened?'

‘He tried to get her back,' said Birkett, ‘and failed.'

‘And took it badly?'

‘He lost the plot and a lot of his pride along the way. I don't think he had ever been rejected by a girl before in his life,' Birkett said with some satisfaction, ‘and he had no frame of reference. He just couldn't accept or deal with it, let alone move on. Lord knows we tried to persuade him to forget her but he just couldn't or wouldn't.'

‘So she called the police on him?'

‘That was a while later. He made a fool of himself on more than one occasion before they reached that point.'

‘Go on.'

‘He'd wait outside the lecture hall so he could intercept her and hassle her; he'd turn up at her house at all hours. She told him to leave her alone but he wouldn't, he even threatened some guy he saw her with and challenged him to a fight. It was all a bit pathetic if I'm honest. We were embarrassed for him.'

‘And it clearly didn't win her round.'

‘No,' he said, ‘but she did sleep with him once.'

‘What?'

‘He'd calmed down a bit, hadn't seen her for a while and we happened to be out at the same club as her. She was with her mates, celebrating her birthday and they had a big heart-to-heart in the corner.' He put his palms up as if to illustrate how crazy that sounded. ‘What can I say? Emotions run high when you're that age but whatever was said, he spent the night with her. The next morning he seemed to think they were back on again but that wasn't her understanding. I think she looked upon it as break-up sex, a way to end it all amicably or possibly it was just a bit of drunken fun on her birthday. You'd have to ask her.'

‘Maybe I will,' said Tom. ‘Was that when he lost it?'

‘Soon after,' said Birkett, ‘when he found out she'd shagged somebody else. Then he lost it big style,' confirmed Birkett, ‘shouting at her in the street, calling her names …'

‘What kind of names?'

‘Whore, slut, that kind of thing.'

‘When did she call the police?'

‘When he finally hit her.'

‘When you say
hit
…'

‘He says it was a slap,' said Birkett, ‘she said it was worse than that. Either way he was completely out of order and when he'd sobered up he knew it.'

‘What did the police do?'

‘Cautioned him.'

‘Did that have an effect?'

‘I think it shocked him back into the real world. They warned him to stay away from her and the college authorities got involved. He was that close to being kicked out.' He showed Tom a small gap between his thumb and forefinger. ‘These days he probably would have been, for hitting a girl, but this was back in the eighties and I don't think they knew what to do with him. The university wanted it to go away, to be honest.'

‘Did he get back on the straight and narrow?'

‘He barely went to any lectures for weeks and he was drinking a lot; and I do mean a lot. We used to go out and get rat-arsed like all students do but this was way more. We tried to get him off it and back into his old routine but in the end we left him to it.'

‘So what happened?'

He looked a bit sheepish. ‘We gave up on him but she didn't.'

‘Who?'

‘Annie Bell,' he said, ‘or Annie Taylor, as she was back then.'

‘So she already knew him at that point?'

‘Annie was in our year. He'd known her from day one but she was just about the only girl he didn't shag.'

‘Not interested?'

‘
She
was,' said Birkett, ‘he wasn't.'

‘Why not?'

‘Didn't fancy her, I suppose.'

‘Yet he ended up married to her.'

‘Stranger things have happened.'

‘So how did they go from him not fancying her to becoming a couple?'

‘I came home one day and she was sitting in the kitchen with him. He looked like shit and she had obviously been giving him a long talking-to. I left them to it but whatever she said to Richard, it worked. I hardly ever saw him without her again after that.'

‘But how? I still don't fully understand this.'

‘Well nor do I really, but she managed to do what nobody else could do back then and she got his arse back in gear. She must have pointed out he was chucking his whole life away and he finally got the message. Then she helped him.'

‘With what?'

‘Everything. They started studying together in the library and he began to catch up on his uni work. He attended lectures and tutorials and avoided being chucked off his course. She'd turn up at the house with groceries or food she'd cooked for him and even started doing his washing. Honestly, it was like they were already married by the time we started our finals.'

‘And he wasn't rutting around anymore?'

‘Not back then, unless he was very good at hiding it – but we found out just how good at the trial, didn't we?'

‘Was that all there was to it? Annie sorted out the mess he'd made for himself so he stuck with her?'

Birkett shrugged. ‘It's my best guess but, honestly, who knows what goes on between two people? I'm not sure how I can really help you.'

‘You've been a help,' Tom assured him.

‘Look, I agreed to see you because you're helping Richard but I told you we weren't really that close. He's never been down here and he only met my wife once, at his wedding.'

‘Not the best at keeping in touch, was he?'

‘You could say that,' he admitted. ‘I know life gets in the way and everything but we made a big effort that day, stayed in a hotel, bought them a nice gift, but I barely saw him afterwards.'

‘Any reason for that?'

‘We didn't have a falling-out. I just got the impression he didn't need an old mate from uni and his equally penniless girlfriend hanging around.'

‘You don't think Annie had anything to do with it, do you?'

‘The murder?' Birkett was shocked.

Tom shook his head. ‘No; Richard not bothering to stay in touch with you.'

‘I never had a problem with her. I reckon we just weren't part of his world.'

‘Okay, well I guess we're done then.' Birkett followed him to the door and Tom made his final question sound like an afterthought. ‘So, what do you think about this Rebecca Holt killing? Did he do it?'

‘You clearly think he didn't, or you wouldn't be here.'

‘I'm keeping an open mind. I've barely scratched the surface yet.'

‘I think Richard is an uncomplicated man who knows what he wants,' said Birkett, ‘and usually gets it, but when he doesn't he can lose the plot. I saw what happened with Amy. As to whether he actually did it, I have no idea.'