One Dead Witness (46 page)

Danny kissed his neck, sending a shiver of absolute pleasure
down his spine. ‘Come on, Henry, let’s get some sleep. Busy day
tomorrow.’

They strolled back to the police station car park, arm-in-arm,
Danny with her head resting on Henry’s shoulder. He drove her home
and dropped her off. On the way to his own home he was quite proud
of himself. Not very long ago he would have been in bed with her -
or at least he would have tried to be. It wasn’t that he did not
like the idea of it, but he was a reformed character where women
were concerned. Too many close shaves had made him see his family
was more important than his libido. Never again did he want to hurt
his wife or children.

Meanwhile Danny undressed and wished she was climbing into bed
with him, but knew it would never happen. She was glad Henry had
been strong for them both. She knew that if he had laid a hand on
her, she would have been unable to resist and then she would have
been in the fire, just having jumped out of the frying
pan.

Chapter Nineteen

‘
The search teams and forensic have ripped that flat apart,
been down the toilet, up the U-bends, down the drains, everywhere.
They worked through the night and are still beavering away as we
speak, but early indications are that there is nothing, nothing at
all, which will be of evidential use to link Claire Lilton to that
flat and those two men.’

Danny had returned to work at 6 a.m., having cadged a lift
from one of the early-turn officers. She had liaised with the
specialists, checking on the progress of that side of the
investigation; it was eight now and she was briefing the murder
squad, Henry and FB included.

‘
What have we recovered from Gilbert’s house?’

‘
Child pornography - videos, magazines, books, hard copy from
the Internet ... possibly some cocaine, but only a small amount ...
sexual aids and several little black books containing names and
addresses of people who, we believe, are his associates in the
aforementioned areas. They contain detailed information on sexual
preferences, likes, dislikes. My feeling is that Gilbert and
Spencer are part of a paedophile ring; my guess is Ollie Spencer
does the legwork, finding the kids - probably like the two we found
in his flat yesterday - and once he and Gilbert have finished with
them, they get sucked into the ring. There’s a lot of codes in his
books. If we ever crack them, or he tells us that they mean, I
think it’ll tell us the story of some poor kids.’

‘
But right now we want to hang a murder on him, don’t we?’ FB
said. ‘So let’s concentrate on that for the time being. Where the
hell do we stand on that?’

Danny shook her head sadly. ‘It’s looking more and more like
we’re going to have to rely on Grace’s evidence. Gilbert and
Spencer have obviously been really thorough as regards cleaning up
after their wrongdoings, and the only thing they didn’t deal with
properly was Grace. She’s all we’ve got for the moment, and I’m not
happy with that. It puts too much pressure on her and makes our
case very weak.’

Henry checked the time. ‘Better get going. They’ve both been
in custody over twelve hours now; another twelve and we’ll be after
a Superintendent’s extension.’

Gilbert and Spencer were interviewed all day, sometimes for
extended periods, sometimes in short bursts. All the time Danny and
Henry kept an eye on their rights, ensuring they got adequate
breaks and refreshments and the interviews were conducted fairly
and without oppression.

All in all, very frustrating.

Being polite to people suspected of murdering kids did not
come easy to either detective and as the day wore on, the veneer
cracked occasionally. Particularly when they could see they were
getting nowhere fast.

Neither prisoner admitted anything which would incriminate
them in the murder, not even when the detectives - reluctantly -
played their best hand and dropped Grace’s evidence on their
laps.

At 6 p.m. that day, decisions needed to be made.

‘
Let me get this straight: as it stands at the moment, the only
thing that will convict me now is the evidence from that little
girl.’

‘
That’s true, but the task of discrediting her story would not
be too onerous, I would suggest.’

Gilbert spread his sausage-like fingers on the table. ‘The
only problem is, she knows some things only an eye-witness would
know. She saw us bashing the girl’s face and she saw us drag her
into the shower and wash her; she also saw us get rid of the
bedding. It’s little things like that which make her story all too
real.’

‘
You’re right,’ Stanway agreed.

‘
I think,’ Gilbert pointed at Stanway, ‘it would be better for
all of us if that young lady were unable to give evidence, don’t
you, Maurice?’

Stanway went icy from head to toe. His throat constricted. He
squeaked, ‘What do you mean? You want her paid off, or
something?’

Gilbert chuckled evilly at Stanway’s misconception. His pig
eyes bored into Stanway’s. ‘No, I mean that for all concerned, she
would be better off dead.’

Stanway’s rectum squinted as he held back a fart of fear. ‘You
mean..?’

‘
Are you fucking thick, Maurice? I thought you had a law
degree.’

‘
I . . . I do. I . . .’ He was dumb for a moment, then blurted,
‘What are you suggesting?’

Gilbert leaned on the table which creaked under his weight.
His voice was just above a whisper, but was dangerous nonetheless.
‘Go and see my co-defendant, Mr Spencer, and tell him to give you
the name of someone who will, for a fee, be happy to go and visit
our young lady-friend, wherever she may be, and put a pillow over
her face, or whatever is most appropriate.’

‘
I can’t do that.’

‘
You can and you will.’

Stanway’s bottom lip flapped uncontrollably like an awning in
high winds as he babbled nervously, ‘I’m a solicitor, not someone
who organises contracts on people. And anyway, we don’t know where
they’re keeping the girl. She’s in secure accommodation
somewhere.’

‘
And that’s a problem for you?’

‘
It is.’

Gilbert’s voice did not change, but to Stanway’s ears it
became more and more menacing.

‘
Are
you telling me you cannot walk out
of here, pick up a phone and speak to one of our like-minded
colleagues in the Social Services - and they would be unwilling to
give you that information? Is that what you’re telling
me?’

‘
No, but. . .’

‘
But what? Now let me spell this out for you, Maurice. In more
ways than one I am very big in the Northwest of England. Very rich,
very well-connected. I’m sure I’ll be able to ride out the storm
caused by the material the police have found in my house, but
facing a murder charge is a very different kettle of fish.’ He
lifted an eyebrow. ‘I know you have a predilection for putting your
twinkle into the bottoms of little boys. . .’ The solicitor started
to babble a protest; Gilbert held up a hand to shut him up. ‘I
don’t have a problem with that, Maurice, as you know, but what I’m
leading up to is this: many of my friends and business associates
have the same bent, shall we say. I could reel off a list of names
of businessmen, councillors, school governors, all sorts of people
- solicitors, even. So, what I’m getting at is this - if I get done
for murder, lots more heads will roll, Maurice. Including yours, my
friend.’

Maurice Stanway, LLB, was stone grey and feeling
bilious.

‘
If she dies, and it’s made to look like a coincidence, then
I’ll be very happy indeed. Have I made my point?’

Henry’s office: Danny replaced the phone. ‘Nothing further
from the forensic team.’ She relayed the news grimly to Henry and
FB.

Henry tapped his bottom teeth with his thumbnail. It was 6.30
p.m. ‘No supporting evidence,’ he said bitterly. ‘This is
shit.’

‘
There’s not even any point in going for a Super’s extension,’
Danny said. ‘An extra twelve hours only gives us until tomorrow
morning. They’ll be spending eight of those asleep.’

‘
Charge him,’ FB said. ‘Put him before court in the morning and
get a three-day lie-down so we can get into his ribs about the
other murder in Darwen.’

‘
Based on what?’ Henry enquired. ‘A witness in the States who’s
done a runner? And not only that, we don’t know one hundred per
cent that it is a murder. The post mortem was
inconclusive.’

‘
He has to be questioned about it at the very least. And we
need chats with him about all the stuff in his house. I think we’ve
stumbled onto something very big here.’

‘
What about Spencer?’

‘
He’s going nowhere. Charge him with murder too, get a
three-day lie-down and let’s have a nice long chat with him about
the two mispers we found in his place - and Grace’s allegations
about him sexually assaulting her.’

Henry and Danny nodded. Henry crossed to the computer in his
office and logged into the custody system.

He started to prepare a murder charge.

‘
Do you wish to make any reply to the charge?’ Danny asked
Gilbert. ‘If so, you may like to write it in the space here on the
form, or I’ll gladly write it for you.’

‘
Only that you’ll all regret your mistake, but I don’t wish to
have that recorded, so no - no reply.’

Danny turned to Spencer. They had been jointly charged. He
shook his head, said nothing.

Danny completed the charge forms and handed the defendants
their copies. They immediately gave them to Stanway who stuffed
them into his briefcase. Danny thought he looked decidedly
agitated. His hands were shaking as he closed the case. He appeared
near to collapse.

‘
Are you okay, Mr Stanway?’ she asked with concern. ‘You look
peaky.’

‘
I’m fine, thanks,’ he said tightly. ‘I’ll see you all at court
in the morning.’ He turned to leave, only to find he had not locked
his case properly. It flipped open, scattering the contents across
the floor, papers, pens, forms, everywhere.

Danny helped him collect them together. She was unaware that
the last piece of paper she handed to him only had one bit of
information on it. A telephone number given to Stanway by Ollie
Spencer.

The number of a killer.

Stanway waited in the dark in his car in one corner of a
deserted coach park near to Blackpool football club’s increasingly
dilapidated ground. The beat of his heart seemed to be taking place
in his throat.

A movement in the shadows made him gasp.

He peered through the windscreen into the darkness. A man was
standing there. How he had got to that position, Stanway did not
know. On his hands and knees perhaps.

There was the flare of a match, briefly illuminating a face,
the features of which were difficult to make out. The match died,
the end of a cigarette burned.

Another match was struck, flared, tossed to one
side.

Two matches. The agreed signal.

‘
Oh God,’ muttered Stanway. He opened his car door and had to
lift his numb legs out of the footwell and onto the ground with his
hands. He was sure he would fall over as soon as he put any weight
on them. But they held him up. Only just, but they
worked.

Stanway teetered across to the man in the shadows, stopping
about six feet away from him. The end of the cigarette glowed as he
took a drag. Stanway smelled booze and body odour as well as the
smoke.

‘
Got the money?’

‘
Half now, half when it’s done.’

‘
That wasn’t the arrangement.’

‘
Oh yes it was.’ Stanway tried to sound assertive.

A hand appeared. Stanway fumbled in his pocket and slapped an
envelope into the waiting palm.

‘
Do I need to count it?’

‘
It’s all there.’

‘
It better be.’

‘
The job needs to be done soon. Tonight if possible. Are you
sure you can do it?’

The man sniggered. ‘Piece of piss. Where is she?’

Stanway told him.

‘
Tomorrow night, back here, same time,’ the man said. ‘Make
sure you come alone again and with the rest of the money. If you
don’t, I’ll come for you, Mr Stanway.’

The man moved into deeper shadow. Stanway saw the butt of the
cigarette drop to the ground, heard the scrunch of a heel, then
there was no sound. The man had gone.

Danny worked for two hours on the preparation of the remand
file for Gilbert and Spencer. She wanted it to be exactly right and
continually read and re-read it until she saw double and her head
throbbed.

Finally she completed the front sheet, copied the file and
pinned it all together.

She walked wearily to Henry’s office where he was still
transcribing one of the interviews from tape to paper. A tedious
task, usually carried out by a trained civvie. Unfortunately they
didn’t work after five and urgent files don’t wait until the
morning. He removed the headphones when Danny came in.