Authors: Rebecca Bradley
52
The
consultation with his solicitor could take some time. There would be
the need for a serious conversation and, depending on how talkative he
was, the outcome of the subsequent interview would be determined.
I walked with Aaron up the stairs towards the incident room.
“Thoughts, Aaron?”
“We have a good case, regardless of what he does or doesn't say in the next interview.”
“I know that, but how do you think he's going to go now?”
“It
doesn't matter, Hannah. We don't need a confession. We have his DNA and
we have the photographs and videos on his computer. He's told us it's
his computer. We have a strong case to put to CPS for a charging
decision.” It was like pulling teeth with him sometimes. I ran my hands
through my hair; the action pulled on my ribs. I felt in my pocket for
the painkillers. Aaron went with the facts. He didn't see the point in
guessing what direction offenders were going. He asked the questions,
anticipated some of the answers and wove his way through his interview
plan, pulling in all the potential loose ends until, by the time the
important questions were out, they had nowhere else to go. He was cool
and calm and never let his emotions lead him on an investigation, or at
any other point I could think of, and he bounced off my emotional,
occasionally hot-headed approach well.
“I
know. But this guy's scum and I want him locked up. Sometimes I can't
stand the dance we do with them. And with the solicitors.”
He shrugged. “We get there, Hannah. There's nothing else you can do.”
I pushed the door to the incident room and everyone stopped talking.
“What's
going on?” The quiet unnerved me. It was never a good sign when cops
ran out of things to say. Grey was stood at the front with Danny who
didn't look at all happy to be in front of this crowd. He looked up at
me like a startled rabbit caught in the headlights. No one spoke.
“Danny?” Aaron asked from behind me.
Grey
took hold of Danny by his arm and pulled him towards me. I sidestepped
the oncoming duo. Danny shook free his arm and followed Grey through
the doors and into my office. Aaron and I followed suit.
“Shut
the door, shut the door,” Grey stammered as I followed them into my
small office space, which looked even more inadequate with the four of
us stood in front of my desk. Aaron pushed the door to and looked at
Grey stonily. He didn't do drama well. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen Grey
look more panicked than he did now, and that included when he'd heard
about the second murdered girl, Allison Kirk.
“What is going on, Anthony?” I asked, standing in front of him with crossed arms.
Grey
turned away from me, looked through the window out to the secure
custody yard below, then drew back his shoulders and turned to face me,
tense and pale. Danny looked at the floor. “Danny's been looking at the
photographs in Benn's computer and located the last photograph Benn was
sent. He thinks it's something we should know.”
I sat down on the edge of my desk, knocking a precariously positioned pile of paperwork down to the floor.
“Crap.” I bent to retrieve them. “What is it Anthony?”
“Danny
went through the photographs Ross categorised and he found a photograph
that hadn't been placed in any folder, but was in the downloaded file.”
He looked to Danny for confirmation. “Right so far?”
Danny nodded.
My
skin started to crawl. I didn't like the way this conversation was
going. “What was the photograph?” I held my breath for the answer.
“It's another girl, Hannah.”
I let out my breath. “But he has several collections of images. We know about them. What's different?”
“Danny
has checked the image and can tell the date the photograph was taken.
It was two days ago. The child in the photograph was in a cage, Hannah,
with something around her neck and she was there two days ago.” He
looked hard at me.
“Oh my God.” I stood up, adrenalin coursing through me.
“She
could still be alive. There's a girl out there, held in a cage, who
could be alive and Benn is our link to her. He could tell us who has
her.”
53
I
sat on what I knew while Benn revealed details. I'm not sure what
happened with his solicitor but he talked and he talked a lot. The
laptop had been placed back on the floor so it wouldn't distract him
from what he wanted to say now. He got through three cups of coffee,
barely stopping for breath. It was as though coffee was his cigarettes.
His lifeline to some semblance of calm in a rapidly disintegrating
world. He talked about his needs. His lust. His pathetically desperate
attempts to control his behaviour. I could barely contain a snarl as he
spoke of it, his self-pity evident. He wanted acceptance and
understanding. He wanted to know we thought he tried hard. He wanted us
to accept his pleas of just how difficult it had been for him.
He
started with an explanation of the dynamics with Natalie and Allison,
and in greater detail than his previous interview. We let him run with
it. It's never a good idea to interrupt the flow. Then he told us it
was Natalie’s fault. She didn't put out for him often enough, she
neglected him and she loved her booze more. She had a daughter. She had
a daughter who was there for him. Who listened to him and spent time
with him, who laughed at his jokes and was a friend to him. It was
Natalie who had thrust Allison on him with her neglectful behaviour.
As he talked I listened with disbelief that he could say these things and hear it in his own ears, but not hear it as it was.
The
relationship had a slow start. Their friendship blossomed but their
becoming closer was a slow burner and Benn had worked hard to gain her
trust. Talking, intimate chats, smiles and knowing looks. She had
laughed as he started to take photos. He'd told her they were memories
for her mum. He played on her vulnerabilities and her need to be loved.
He said the photographs would be there when her mum was ready to look
at them so no matter what she missed in her drunken stupors, she would
always have the memories because he, Colin Benn, was there to give her
this gift. She enjoyed her time with him, she was comfortable with the
photographs and one thing led to another and the natural progression
was the removal of clothes for the photographs. She was beautiful. She
recognised this and she revelled in it. She loved the attention he gave
her. They complimented each other. He was kind to her and gentle and in
return she gave herself to him. He began to love her. He didn't feel
bad for Natalie. Natalie brought it all on herself. She didn't deserve
him and she didn't deserve a beautiful daughter like Allison.
Benn
was animated when he spoke of his relationship with Allison. He
believed it had grown into a full relationship. But when it started to
break down, he turned to the internet. He needed someone to talk to. We
understood didn't we? He needed to talk and he knew people wouldn't
understand, they would judge and be critical, so he searched for people
who would understand and would help him rebuild the failing
relationship. He said it took a few false starts. There were a lot of
nasty people online. He wanted to talk about his love and his
relationship. Some people wanted to exploit it and poison it, they
wanted to meet him and for him to bring Allison. He was disgusted.
Allison was his.
Eventually
he found someone who understood it for what it was and introduced him
to a group of like-minded people. He felt validated. Relieved. At home.
The
next part of the interview didn't prove to be any easier. Even Corinne
Selby appeared to flag. Aaron, on the other hand, looked as though he'd
just arrived at work. His tie was still neat, unlike most of the team
who couldn't even tie them correctly in a morning, never mind all this
way into a long shift.
Benn
went on to disclose conversations with his new friends that had gone on
long into the nights. Many days and weeks passed, with interests shared
and thoughts explored. Eventually, one of his new-found friends
broached the subject of bondage and how it brought an extra thrill to
relationships. If done properly it would benefit both concerned. The
friend shared his own photographs and Benn nearly exploded right there
in the interview room as he talked. I wanted to punch him. And hard.
Him and his prissy little solicitor. But at this point even she had
gone an odd shade of yellow. I fidgeted with my cup, banging it on the
table as I moved it around. Benn was so caught up in his own story he
didn't notice and his solicitor looked pleased for the distraction.
The small interview room felt smaller, looked dingier and smelled sourer.
After
the first photographs were shared others in the group shared and soon
Benn found himself desperate to join in but reticent to involve
Allison. This was when it was suggested he be provided with
someone. As long as he gave the group what they needed, he could
take what he wanted from the girl. He was encouraged, the sharing of
the images the nightly norm.
He
had to drive to collect her. They met in a park in the early hours when
there would be little chance of anyone being about. Even the local cops
would be sat in their nice warm stations, too cosy with their TVs and
takeaways to monitor a children's park, so he was told. There, a girl
was passed to him, from one trunk of a car to his. She wore only
underwear and was wrapped in a blanket. Her hands were bound in
front of her with rope you'd find in a garage. She was floppy and
mumbled incoherently as she was handled. He made it back before it
began to get light and transferred her to his house, making sure he
kept her wrapped in the blanket. Once in the house he kept the bindings
on so he wouldn't lose her and put a strip of silver electrical tape
over her mouth. He didn't want her to start screaming and alert the
neighbours. The walls were pretty thin, but she didn't seem capable of
making such a noise, she seemed so out of it. He then tied her wrists
to the bottom of the radiator and got some sleep. It had been a long
night for him.
The
interview felt never ending. We took another break; I spoke with
Catherine Walker and obtained the extension we needed to keep
questioning him. Grey and I then discussed the updated press release.
My body hurt and I was tired. I called Ethan. He picked up on the first
ring.
“Detective Inspector Hannah Robbins, what can I do for you?”
“Come round to mine later when I get off work?”
“I can do that. How are things?”
“Pretty grim and I need some relief from it.”
“Relief I can do, and very well.”
I
felt myself blush. I wasn't usually so forward with wanting time with
Ethan, afraid of rejection, but I was feeling reckless. “It's going to
be a late one here, is that okay with you?”
Ethan didn't have a key. The relationship was far too new, which meant he had to sit and wait for my call before he came over.
“It's fine. I'm all yours, no matter what time it is.”
“Great. Fetch a bottle of wine?”
“And my toothbrush?”
“Yes,
and your toothbrush.” I propped my head in my hands, feeling heavy. I
needed to finish this and go home. “I'll see you later.”
With my evening planned I walked through to see Evie, who was turning off her lights and heading out the door.
“Hey. How's it going?” she asked.
“Disturbing,” I replied.
She flicked the switch and the office space lit back up. “You obviously need to talk to me. What can I do?”
“Thanks
Evie.” I pulled at a chair and sat down. “An image has been located on
Benn's computer that DIU are saying is only a couple of days old.”
“Right. What's the image?”
“Another girl. In a cage.”
She
didn't say a word; she just continued to look at me. The strip lighting
glinted off her lenses, making it difficult to see the thoughts play
across her eyes.
“I
need you to work with DIU and the National Missing Persons Bureau to
see if we can identify her and get to her before we end up with another
death. I'm still in with Benn. It's taking some time. He may give us
what we need, but if he doesn't, I'll take all the help I can get.
She's so small, Evie. We need to get to her.”
Evie nodded. Not a word passed her lips.
54
A
sense of horror was unfolding within me and in front of me as Benn told
the final part of his involvement with Rosie and Allison. His solicitor
now looked sick and completely out of her comfort zone. Her smart
appearance took on a look of exhausted dishevelment without a crease
having appeared on her immaculately pressed suit. Her hands had
obviously been busy, both running through her hair, and rubbing her
face. Her eyes looked less sharp and outlined and all her pouty lip
glossiness had disappeared. Her curls had less bounce and were now
pushed behind her ears. Everything in the room had a feeling like
nothing really mattered any more, other than the atrocities being spun
by Benn. He continued.
When
he woke he had felt lost and confused when he saw the girl. The girl
who had been delivered like a local Chinese takeaway. He knew he had to
keep Allison out of the house until he figured out what to do with her.
He texted her, as was usual, and wished her a good day at school and
said he couldn't see her until the next day. Then he turned his
attention to the girl tied to his radiator.
He
hadn't looked at her properly the previous night, but now in the cold
light of the morning he could see she had already been used up by
whoever had given her to him. She was bruised and thin. She carried a
look he didn't recognise. A tired fear. He tried to be nice to her. She
needed someone to love her now, didn't she? So he released her wrists
and loved her, then left her tied to the radiator again as he took a
walk to clear his head.
When
he talked to his new friends, photographs were demanded. Payment for
the delivery. He felt cornered. What else was he supposed to do? He had
this girl, she was tied and injured, and they knew what he looked like,
knew his car details. They could turn on him and turn him in. He had to
do as they asked, didn't he? He was out of choices. That night he did
the things they wanted and photographed them. The girl was weak and
already injured. She couldn't take the belt for long. She left him.
Just died there on his floor as his camera sent the images to the group
waiting for them. He felt shocked, but something within him shook and
bucked and he also felt more alive than he ever had. He knew he had to
dispose of her and get rid of the evidence. The photographs weren't
evidence though, so he could keep them. No one would stumble on them.
It was a group of friends sharing an interest. He needed them. They
helped make him feel alive. Keeping the images without the girl was
okay. The girl would get him into trouble. He wasn't stupid, he had to
get rid of her. So in the darkness he took her out and after driving
around attempting to think of what to do, he stopped at the next
alleyway he passed and left her there. The shadows unnerved him and
made him feel watched so he pushed on the bin to cover her and he left.
He didn't know how far he'd driven or if he'd driven around in circles.
He just wanted her out of his car and out of his life.
Allison
was an accident. Loving gone that step too far. The thrill of what had
happened with the girl still vivid and alive in his veins. He
hadn't wanted it to happen. He wasn't a monster. He loved Allison. We
had to believe him. He was jittery about Natalie, and about what she
would be able to see in him, so he decided to visit her. The house was
quiet. Allison was upstairs with the door unlocked. He let himself in.
Everything felt strange. Disturbed. A hyper awareness was
steamrollering through him and the smells and colours in the house were
overbearing. He shouted for Allison. She came down the stairs and stood
in front of him, arms by her sides, hair loose around her shoulders.
She never said a word. Now he didn't know how to talk to her. Not after
the girl the night before had given up on him. Stupid girl. It felt
tainted with Allison. No longer pure and sweet. She looked him in the
eye. He was losing her. She was slipping away from him. So, with the
memory of the thrill from the previous night, he decided he was going
to take Allison to that special place. Take her to the edge and watch
her come alive again. Rebirth their relationship. Right there in the
kitchen. He asked where her mum was and was told she was in the pub.
This was his time. He had to take it now. He could feel the house
around him and he wanted Allison there with him. He got to work as she
watched, bringing in from the car his tow rope and camera. She still
never said a word. He hooked up his camera and set it on the worktop.
Then he set to work, to bring life back to his relationship.
She
resisted, like she'd resisted nothing else in her life. He didn't
understand it. She was fighting as he was coming alive. He bound her
wrists with rope from the car to keep her still. He felt the
electricity of life flowing through him. The hard edge of the world was
fading and narrowing. He was growing and growing. Allison fading. The
fight started to ebb and the feeling of euphoria with it. He pulled
harder on the belt, pulling to save his life. The camera in the corner
forgotten, the energy of life his aim. He pulled and pulled, harder and
harder. It was euphoric.
She was gone.