Slur: The Riverhill Trilogy: Book 1 (8 page)

Wednesday 25
^th
June 1986

Detective Inspector Bowden received a fax on Wednesday
indicating the preliminary findings of the post mortem. It would be a few weeks
before he received the detailed pathology report, but the fax, which had been
rushed through to him at his insistence, did give an indication as to the cause
of death.
He sat, slowly digesting its contents,
while sipping his cup of coffee.

Sergeant
Drummond, observing that he was giving the piece of paper his full attention, asked,
‘Is it the post mortem sir?’

‘Um,’ he
grunted in response.

She didn’t
interrupt him further, knowing that he would relate the contents of the fax to
the rest of the staff as soon as he was ready. Inspector Bowden believed in
following a chain of command and preferred his subordinates to remain
subordinate.

After a
couple of minutes Inspector Bowden stood up and took a deep breath, expanding
his chest and pulling his shoulders back, like a soldier on parade.

‘Sergeant
Drummond, I’m going to see the DCI. Can you take all calls please? It shouldn’t
take more than a few minutes!’ He then took another deep breath and fixed his
face with a stern expression as he prepared to do battle.

Inspector
Bowden knocked on the door of DCI Marshall’s office and was summoned inside.

‘Ah,
Inspector Bowden,’ said the DCI. ‘Any news?’

‘Yes, as a
matter of fact there is sir,’ replied Inspector Bowden as he handed the
preliminary report to DCI Marshall.

He allowed DCI
Marshall a few minutes to read the contents of the report before he began his
entreaty. He knew that the bullying tactics he employed on subordinates and
suspects wouldn’t gain him much ground with the DCI.

Although DCI
Marshall was not outwardly dominant, he followed his own stringent set of rules,
and if anybody attempted to step outside those rules, he would assert his
authority calmly and resolutely. A well-educated and intelligent man, he made
Inspector Bowden’s furious outbursts seem like an infant’s tantrums, and
Inspector Bowden often left his office feeling impotent and dejected by his
lack of influence.

The DCI
forced Inspector Bowden to wait several minutes while he read the report and
then re-read some of the more pertinent details. Inspector Bowden recognised the
enforced wait as part of a well-used ploy to make him feel ill at ease. It
would also give DCI Marshall some time to prepare his response, which was bound
to disagree with Inspector Bowden’s reaction to the report.

Eventually
he lifted his head and looked towards Inspector Bowden with eyebrows raised in
an inquiring motion.

‘I want to
charge them sir!’ said Inspector Bowden.

‘On what
grounds?’ DCI Marshall countered.

‘The amphetamines.
It’s obvious, isn’t it? Amanda Morris died of a drug and alcohol overdose,
proving that they must have given her amphetamines that night as well as alcohol.’

‘Steady!’
said the DCI as he raised his hand to silence Inspector Bowden. ‘I do not doubt
that the victim died of an alcohol and amphetamine overdose. That matter is not
in dispute. However, there is no proof that either of the two suspects gave amphetamines
to the deceased prior to her death. We have already discussed this point.’

‘They must
have given her the drugs! They were with her all night, and they could have
slipped some speed into her drink at any time.’

Inspector
Bowden waved his hands about in agitation.

‘Tell me,
Inspector Bowden,’ the DCI continued, ‘were both suspects searched at the time
of arrest?’

‘Of course
they were …sir.’

‘And were
their homes searched?’

‘Yes sir!’

‘And were
any drugs found?’

‘You know
there weren’t, but that doesn’t mean to say …’

‘In that
case, Inspector Bowden, there is no proof that the drugs found in Amanda
Morris’s body were put there by either of the suspects. Furthermore, both of
the suspects have a clean record and no history of drug abuse. So, until you
find further evidence, inspector, we will not be able to charge them! Now then,
what about other lines of enquiry?’

The inspector
raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

‘I’m
referring to Mr Leslie Stevens. He has a record, hasn’t he?’

‘Well yes sir,
but not drugs related. I don’t think it’s him. The man was distraught! Besides,
Amanda Morris was already intoxicated by the time she reached home, and a
search of his flat showed there were no drugs on the premises.’

‘Very well,
I suggest you continue digging then until you come up with some hard evidence inspector
and that means covering all angles, not just the easy ones.’

Inspector
Bowden retreated looking very downhearted and embarrassed. He noticed Sergeant
Drummond watching him return to his desk, and flashed her a warning look to
discourage her from asking any questions until he was ready to discuss the
case.

After a few
moments Inspector Bowden broke the silence, ‘Come on sergeant, we’re going!’ he
ordered.

‘Where to sir?’

‘To
interview more witnesses. We need more evidence. The DCI refuses to see the
obvious outcome of the post mortem as concrete evidence!’

‘So there
were drugs then?’ asked the sergeant.

‘Oh yes, there
were drugs all right; speed! One of the buggers must have slipped it into her
drink. So, what we need to do now is find some evidence that links Julie
Quinley and Rita Steadman to the drugs. You and I both know that they killed
Amanda Morris; we just need to prove it!’

--------------------

Wednesday
25
^th
June 1986

Inside the Portland
Bars Inspector Bowden made a beeline for the barman, and produced his identity
card. He needn’t have bothered. The barman recognised him immediately. He had
experienced his interview techniques in the past, and he guessed what the inspector’s
visit was about.

‘I’ve
already spoken to one of your officers and I’ve got nothing more to say!’ he
announced as Inspector Bowden approached the bar, accompanied by Sergeant
Drummond.

‘Well,
let’s see if we can have another go at jogging your memory then?’ the inspector
replied, while he gestured towards an empty table. The barman followed, not
wishing to upset the inspector.

‘I believe
that you saw Julie Quinley and Rita Steadman pouring vodka into Amanda Morris’s
drink,’ prompted Inspector Bowden.

‘No, I
didn’t say that,’ the barman interjected. ‘I saw two girls at the bar pouring a
vodka into someone’s drink. I don’t know whose drink it was. I don’t even know
if those are the girls you’re talking about, but your officer seemed to think
they fitted the description.’

‘Can you be
sure that it was vodka they were pouring into the drink?’

‘Yeah, sure.’

‘How can
you be so sure? It could have been anything they were putting in!’ fumed
Inspector Bowden.

‘No, it was
definitely vodka; they bought it here at the bar.’

‘Right,
fair enough. Can you be certain then that they didn’t put something in the
glass as well as vodka?’

‘Not that I
noticed. As soon as they put the vodka in they were off.’

‘And what
were their reactions while they were pouring the vodka?’

‘They just
seemed to be having a laugh. I guessed that they were playing a trick on
someone ... oh I would have stopped them but the bar was very busy that night
and I was serving my next customer.’

The barman was
completely taken by surprise when Inspector Bowden made a quick grab at his
lapels and hoisted him up from his seat. ‘You’d better not be keeping anything
from me!’ he threatened. ‘If I find out that our suspects obtained their drugs
from here then I’ll have your head on a plate!’

The barman
winced. ‘You won’t find any drugs in here; you know that from the last time you
raided us.’

The inspector
released him and threw him back against the chair. ‘Come on!’ he shouted to
Sergeant Drummond. ‘We’re wasting our time here.’

Wednesday 25
^th
June 1986

After interviewing witnesses at the Portland Bars Inspector
Bowden and Sergeant Drummond headed for Les’s flat. The inspector’s approach
was a little more sympathetic in this case as Les was the boyfriend of the
deceased. Nevertheless, Inspector Bowden was still determined to extract as
much information as he could.

‘You reported
the death of your girlfriend, Amanda Morris,’ said Inspector Bowden, consulting
his notebook. ‘I believe that she returned home in an extremely intoxicated
state following a night out with some friends. Can you tell us about the night
that Amanda died?’

‘Yes,’ said
Les. ‘I woke up hearing a terrible commotion. Mandy was shouting and banging on
the door. It wasn’t like her to carry on like that.’

His voice
trailed away, and he paused, trying to regain his composure and clearing his
throat before continuing. ‘I was angry with her for waking me up and I was
worried about what the neighbours might think, so I shouted at her when I
answered the door …’

Les’s voice
broke again and between sobs he uttered, ‘I’m so sorry for shouting at her like
that. How was I to know it was the last time I’d see her alive?’

‘It’s OK,
take your time,’ said Inspector Bowden.

Eventually
Les continued.

‘Mandy was
in a terrible state, and there were two girls with her. I recognised one of
them from the place where Mandy works ...well, worked, but the other one looked
like a real scrubber. I blasted them off for getting her in such a state. Then
I slammed the door on them. When they’d gone I had a few words with Mandy but
she was too drunk to take any notice. So I helped her get ready for bed, and
that was that.’

‘What about
Amanda’s mention of drugs?’ asked Inspector Bowden.

Les stared blankly
at him for a few moments before replying. ‘Oh that, yeah, she was rambling on
about something her friends gave her. She said it gave her a real buzz. I
didn’t know what she was going on about at the time. It’s only later that it
clicked.’

‘Did it not
occur to you that she might need medical attention?’ asked Sergeant Drummond
while Inspector Bowden glared at her. Evidently, he didn’t want anything to
detract from his line of questioning.

‘No not really,
I just thought that she’d be all right after a good night’s sleep.’

Les’s
sobbing conveniently returned. ‘I’m sorry,’ he wept. ‘Maybe I should have got
help but I had no idea; I’ve never dealt with anything like this before.’

Inspector
Bowden, regardless of Les’s emotional state, seized the chance to progress the
interview further. ‘Did Amanda say what it was that they had given her?’

‘No, she
was just rambling on about taking drugs. I didn’t know whether to believe her.
She wasn’t making a lot of sense.’

‘Did she say
what form the drugs had taken – powder, tablet, injection?’

‘No,
sorry,’ muttered Les.

‘OK, thank
you for sparing us some of your time,’ said Inspector Bowden and they then left
Les’s flat.

As soon as
they got outside Sergeant Drummond said, ‘They can’t have slipped it in her
drink when the two of them went to get served if Amanda Morris took the drugs knowingly.
Besides, it’s a bit risky doing it at the bar in full view of the staff, isn’t
it?’

‘Well
perhaps they got her drunk first then encouraged her to take drugs. The poor girl
probably didn’t have a clue what she was doing! Either way, it still makes them
guilty. They got her drunk, they supplied the drugs and they got her to take
them when her judgement was impaired. I know their type; they think it’s fun to
take advantage of a poor innocent girl.’

‘I see your
point sir but shouldn’t we have searched Leslie Stevens’ flat again in case
uniform missed something? He has got a record when all said and done, and he
did seem a bit vague when you asked him about Amanda’s reference to drugs.’

‘Don’t be
ridiculous! Why should we want a more thorough search of his flat when we
already know who the culprits are? Just because he has a record for speeding
offences and petty theft does not make him guilty of murder. I’m surprised at
you sergeant! You could see the state he was in. The poor man’s devastated! You
ask yourself how that compares to the state Julie Quinley was in when we took
her to the station. More concerned with putting her make-up on from what you’ve
told me.’

‘Well yes,
I suppose you’re right there sir,’ the sergeant conceded.

‘There you
go then,’ Inspector Bowden asserted. ‘Besides, there’s countless witnesses as
to the drugged state Amanda Morris was in before she even set off for home.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘See sergeant,
you’ve got a lot to learn yet. All the evidence is there. You’ve just got to be
able to find it.’

‘Yes, sir,’
Sergeant Drummond replied again, and didn’t pursue the matter further.

They got
inside the car. Sergeant Drummond took the driving seat and asked, ‘Where to
now sir?’

‘Back to
the suspects. We have to keep up the pressure! They might let something slip.’

--------------------

Wednesday
25
^th
June 1986

As soon as
the officers had left his flat Les slumped down on his sofa. The interview had
got to him. His sense of impotence enraged him and he took a swipe at the empty
cups on the coffee table. They flew across the room, landing in fragmented
shards.

Mandy was
gone and there wasn’t a fuckin’ thing he could do about it! Why? Why did shit
always happen to him? All his life he’d had to settle for second best. Brought
up in a stinking hovel with a useless drunken bitch of a mother, he’d got sick
of seeing countless strangers come and go. The jovial ones, the cocky ones and
the downright nasty ones! It was common knowledge in the street where he’d
lived that his mother would go with anyone for a few drinks. By the time he
reached his teens he understood the implication of having so many ‘uncles’ and
as time passed by his resentment festered.

As he
wallowed in pain and self-pity at losing his precious Mandy he recalled
countless occasions when he’d borne the shame of living with such a mother.
Like the time when he’d picked her up from the street. She was so drunk that
she couldn’t stand straight. She’d fallen down in the pouring rain and when he
managed to get her off the floor her clothes and hair were drenched, her face filthy.
He’d had to accompany her home while she squealed with amusement like some
demented caricature.

He’d left home
at the earliest opportunity. From then onwards he made sure that he earned
plenty by whatever means necessary, legal or otherwise. It didn’t matter to him
as long as he could live a lifestyle that was far removed from his childhood.
He wore stylish clothes, drove smart cars and kept a nice home. Occasionally he
came across his mother in some pub or other, usually drunk and staggering, but
he avoided her, refusing to acknowledge her existence.

And the
girls loved his flash lifestyle, but most of them were slags just like her.
They’d do anything for a meal and a few drinks. Then he met Mandy who was so
different. She was everything his mother and all those tarts would never be. Mandy
had class; she was the prize. And now she was gone and he couldn’t stand it! When
his bitter thoughts threatened to overwhelm him he dashed from his flat, and made
his way towards the city centre.  

--------------------

Wednesday
25
^th
June 1986

The arrival
of the police at Julie’s house late on Wednesday evening turned an already
trying week into a traumatic one. This time they interviewed her at home,
advising her that they had received the preliminary results of the post mortem
indicating that Amanda died of a drink and drugs overdose.

‘Tell me,’
Inspector Bowden asked Julie, ‘how long have you been taking speed?’

Julie stared
at him, incredulous. ‘What are you talking about?’ she asked. ‘I’ve never taken
speed in my life or any other kind of drug.’

‘How often
do you visit the Portland Bars?’ Inspector Bowden persisted.

‘I don’t
know. What’s that got to do with anything?’

‘Come now Miss
Quinley, you must have some idea of how often you go there.’

‘I don’t
know, most weekends I suppose. It all depends.’

‘Depends on
what Miss Quinley; on whether you want to obtain drugs?’

‘No, not at
all. We don’t go there for that. It’s just one of the pubs we go to. It all
depends where everybody fancies going. Sometimes it might be there, sometimes
it might be one of the other pubs.’

‘And how
long have you been frequenting these pubs?’

‘A couple
of years I suppose.’

‘Well then,
Miss Quinley, I’m sure you’re aware of the problem in the past with a former
member of staff at the Portland Bars who was a known drug dealer.’

Julie’s
mouth fell open in shock. ‘I had no idea!’ she said.

‘Come off
it! You’ve been going in there every week for a couple of years and you had no
idea about the availability of drugs? Yet you were seen putting something into
Amanda Morris’s drink. Do you expect me to believe that?’

The
interview continued unabated and Julie responded to the questions with a flat
denial, until her father burst into the room. ‘Look you lot!’ he shouted,
‘She’s told you she’s not given drugs to the girl and no amount of bullying is
going to get her to change her mind. Now bugger off out of my home, and leave
my daughter alone!’

The
officers exchanged glances. Detective Inspector Bowden then stood up and calmly
replied to Bill, ‘All right Mr Quinley, I think that we were just about through
with our questioning for now anyway, but I can assure you of our return just as
soon as we have gathered further evidence. Now goodbye and good day!’

Detective
Sergeant Drummond took her cue and fell in line with Detective Inspector Bowden
as he left the house.

Julie was
flabbergasted by this reaction from her father and didn’t know whether to thank
him for defending her. She was saved from having to make a decision however as her
father exited the room just as quickly as he had entered it.

Julie took
the opportunity to phone Rita. She wanted to forewarn her of the police
detectives’ imminent appearance, but was surprised to find that Rita had
already received a visit and she reacted to the encounter with her usual air of
indifference. Julie tried to emulate Rita’s display of calm, but it belied the
panic that she felt inside. ‘Yes, you’re right Rita. They can’t do anything to
us without proof.’

‘That’s
right Julie, so stop worrying and let’s try to carry on as normal. I think we
should go out Friday night. After all, moping about isn’t going to bring Amanda
back, is it?’

Although
Julie was amazed to hear Rita talk like this, she allowed herself to be
persuaded into going to the Flying Horse. It was the last place that she wanted
to meet in view of the fiasco of the previous Sunday, but she reasoned that as
her own strength of mind was very much in abeyance at the moment, she should
let Rita lead her by the hand and do whatever she thought was right. She also felt
that people had to be faced and now was as good a time as any.

‘By the way
Rita,’ said Julie, ‘I’m supposed to be going out tomorrow night as well, but I
don’t know if I’ll bother after the way I’ve been feeling.’

‘Who with?’

‘Well, you
remember that dishy salesman I told you about called Mike Marston?’

‘Yes,’ Rita
replied.

‘He’s asked
me out at last. Bloody typical isn’t it; I’ve been wanting him to ask me out
for weeks and then he goes and does it when I’m feeling like a bag of shit.’

‘What about
Vinny?’

‘Oh, here
we go. What about Vinny, Rita?’

‘I thought
you were supposed to be seeing him.’

I am, but
I’m only going on a date with this guy. There’s no harm in seeing Vinny in the
meantime till I see how things work out.’

‘Oh, I get
it, good old Vinny will always do as a back-up eh?’

‘It isn’t
like that Rita. Me and Vinny aren’t serious. Besides, I’ve got loads of time
for settling down. Who wants to be married at my age?’

‘Well try
telling him that; you might find he has a different point of view. Anyway, it’s
up to you. Maybe this bloke’s what you’ve been looking for, and if he isn’t,
then at least you’ll have got it out of your system.’

Julie said
goodbye to Rita, but continued to think about the predicament she was in. She
didn’t really want to finish with Vinny. If he’d had a bit more get up and go
he might have been the perfect man but he was just too complacent at times. She
did think a lot of him though and, while on this train of thought, Julie came
to the decision that she should ring him and try to sort out the mess that they
had made of their previous telephone conversation.

She was
relieved when Vinny accepted her apology in earnest, and even offered her an apology
too. Julie arranged to see him on the Saturday night, delighted with his change
of heart, and determined to continue her quest to carry on a normal life.