A Deadly Thaw (24 page)

‘I haven’t been entirely straight with you.’

Sadler sat opposite Llewellyn, and, for the first time in his life, his superior was refusing to look him in the eye. It was the cue, of course, for Sadler to say something non-committal. Along the lines of ‘I understand’ or perhaps, ‘I’m sure you didn’t have any other choice.’ But Sadler was sick at heart with his boss and that was a first for him too. ‘You haven’t been straight with any of us.’

This did make Llewellyn look at him. It was glance of fury. His pale freckled face reddened, and his large hands shook as he picked up his coffee cup. ‘You know how it is in this job, Sadler. Don’t pretend you don’t. There’s a chain of command, and not everyone necessarily knows everything about what’s going on. It’s always been this way. Do you tell your team everything?’

‘I tell them enough.’

Llewellyn winced. ‘I’m not particularly proud of myself but I had orders from up high not to reveal anything about what happened. There were reasons for this too. I can tell you, reading some of those files, I’m not surprised they’re trying to do things properly this time. There are reasons why procedures are put in place in this kind of job. I didn’t like the skulduggery of keeping quiet about the internal investigation, but I’m one hundred per cent sure about the need for an inquiry.’

‘Are you able to tell me now?’ Sadler turned his head and looked towards the window. Through the slatted blinds, he could see pale sunlight. The room nevertheless felt stuffy, and he resisted the urge to loosen his shirt collar.

‘You’re not that young, Sadler. You know things were different then.’

‘It’s not
that
I have a problem with. I know how things were then.’
It’s the past that once more comes back to haunt us
. ‘The problem is keeping me in the dark about what is happening with the old cases. It’s impacting on my current investigation.’

‘I know and I’m sorry about that more than anything. I’d never deliberately hinder an investigation. You have to believe me on this.’

Now it was Sadler who found it difficult to look his boss in the eye. ‘When did you realise the two aspects collided? What went on in the past and Andrew Fisher’s death?’

‘This week. After you met Rebecca Hardy. Good God, do you think I would have told you to look at the sexual aspect of this case if I thought it was to do with these cases?’

‘This has nothing to do with sex. It’s about power and humiliation.’

‘Don’t lecture me. I know exactly what it’s about. I’ve read those files. It’s about a bunch of bloody incompetents masquerading as police officers.’

Sadler stared at his boss. ‘Incompetents? We’re not talking about an institutional failing here.’

Llewellyn stood up. ‘I’m older than you. It was just after I started my policing that changes were made to how we dealt with rape cases and accusations of sexual assault. There were guidelines in place, and we didn’t follow them.’

‘Why not?’

Sadler’s tone seemed to infuriate his boss. ‘Because this station was being policed by a bunch of lazy-arsed sods,’ he shouted and sat back down in his chair.

Sadler heard a movement outside the door. Margaret knocked softly on the door and opened it. ‘Your visitor is here.’

Llewellyn acknowledged her with a nod.

‘How many women in total have we let down?’ asked Sadler.

Llewellyn didn’t make any attempt to contradict him. Or to obfuscate. That, Sadler was willing to credit him for.

‘At least ten. I’d say nearer fifteen for definite. And, given the total disgrace of some of the people who had the temerity to call themselves police officers, the number of victims could easily be more than that.’

I can name two
, thought Sadler.
Rebecca Hardy and Anna. What a complete bloody mess. And I’m too young to retire. I’d resign, but there’s nothing else I want to do
.

Llewellyn said nothing, but his eyes were on Sadler. ‘There’s someone I want you to meet.’

Palmer was silent on the drive out to Bampton rugby ground. Connie let him be. His earlier joshing had been replaced by awkward pauses and introspection. In the space of a few hours. God knows what was going on in his head. Men were a complete mystery to her, and she’d decided long ago not to bother trying to fathom them out. She let him concentrate on the driving while she stared out of the window. ‘Good God.’

‘What?’

‘There’s a man out there wearing a pair of shorts. It’s not warm at all today.’

Palmer made a face but didn’t look in her direction. ‘Probably a tourist.’

Connie humphed. ‘The first sign of spring, and they think they can get their legs out. It wasn’t too bad last week, but it’s freezing today.’

A large green sign told them they had arrived at the rugby ground. Palmer pulled the car into a space, and they sat, for a moment, in silence.

‘Do you know anything about rugby?’ Connie asked.

‘Absolutely nothing. You?’

‘Me? You’ve got to be kidding.’

‘Great. You can lead the questioning then.’

He was being awkward. She hated it when men were like this. All fun one minute and difficult the next. She opened the car door. The weather was even colder than she thought. The man in the shorts must be seriously regretting his choice of clothes.

They walked into the long oblong building. The only person about was someone wiping glasses behind the bar. He seemed to be expecting them. ‘Over to the left.’ He nodded towards a door.

As they entered what looked like a boardroom, a man stood up, casually dressed in a long-sleeved polo shirt and shiny tracksuit bottoms. ‘Geoff Bradley.’ He introduced himself with a handshake, and they all sat around one end of the long table. ‘I can offer you coffee. It’s not that nice here though, I will warn you.’

Palmer made a face, and Connie shook her head. ‘No thanks.’

‘You mentioned over the phone about Andrew Fisher.’

‘You knew him personally?’ asked Palmer.

‘I’ve known him since he was a young lad. He played here from the age of about eight or nine. That was before my time, admittedly, but I definitely remember him from twelve or so onwards.’

‘What was he like?’

Geoff shrugged. ‘Nice guy.’ Silence.

‘What about someone called Philip Staley?’ asked Connie.

‘Philip? I know him vaguely. That’s a blast from the past. He hasn’t been around here for years. He was very friendly with Andrew though. I heard he’d emigrated to Australia.’

‘What was he like?’

‘Nice guy.’

Connie, her hackles rising, leant forward. ‘Listen, Mr Bradley. We’re investigating murder, possible rape, and conspiracy to pervert the course of justice. If I hear you describe one of the suspects as a nice guy one more time, I’m going to haul you down to the local nick. Do you get me?’

Geoff Bradley swallowed. ‘Suspects? Surely Andrew’s a victim. His wife killed him. Well, she killed someone and now he’s been found dead—’

‘When I said suspect, I know exactly what I meant. So let’s move away from the “nice guy, what goes on tour stays on tour” bullshit and get down to what those two were actually like.’

Geoff Bradley swallowed again. ‘Andrew Fisher was a decent guy. I’d swear on it. Philip was a bit of a player. If you know what I mean.’

‘I think you need to define “player” for us, Mr Bradley,’ Palmer told him.

Here we go
, thought Connie.
Good cop, bad cop. And, once more, I’m the baddie.

‘He slept around. A different woman a night, given a chance.’

That gives a lot of possible victims
, thought Connie sourly.

‘Did any of these women ever make a complaint against Philip Staley?’

Geoff looked shocked. ‘Not that I’m aware of. I think he was quite attractive to women. He didn’t force himself on them if that’s what you mean.’

‘Oh really?’

‘And what about Andrew Fisher?’ continued Palmer.

‘In his younger days he had an eye for the women too. In fact, as a teenager, he was worse than Philip.’

Connie froze.

‘Definitely a woman a night. He used to disappear outside with them and then he’d be back inside picking up another.’

‘Here?’ barked Connie.

‘Not here. This would be for after-match drinks and events. The lads liked to go on the razz in Bampton on Saturday evenings. He and Philip were thick as thieves on those nights out.’

‘So let me get this straight,’ said Connie. ‘Andrew and Philip would go out drinking in Bampton together and pick up girls.’

Geoff Bradley looked between the two of them. ‘It was only a bit of youthful fun.’

‘And more recently?’ asked Connie.

‘Andrew settled down with Lena. I never heard of anything after that. Philip, as I said, I haven’t heard about him for years.’

‘But as a teenager he regularly left Bampton bars with someone he had picked up?’ said Palmer.

‘He was a devil,’ said Geoff Bradley, a note of pride in his voice.

On the way back to the station, Palmer put his foot hard on the accelerator.

‘Slow down for God’s sake. If you get caught, we’ll both be in trouble.’

‘The two of them were as bad as each other, that’s what Sadler meant, wasn’t it?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He told us to look at the definition of aggravated assault, remember? I thought he was talking about the photographs but there are other possible scenarios too. There’s a category, “more than one offender acting together”. It’s not just the photographs. They were working as a team.’

‘You think?’

He clenched his hands on the steering wheel. ‘I’m sure of it.’

Kat sat on the bed with her head on Lena’s shoulder. The fear that she’d felt a moment earlier had been replaced by the familiar longing to regain the sister she’d once known. Sitting here with Lena, she could have been thirteen again. Except she could feel her sister removing herself once more. There were so many questions, and she didn’t want to fracture the brittle truce they’d reached. She still needed to get at the heart of the deception. ‘Andrew was in the photos too?’

Lena nodded. ‘He was in the ones on Philip’s phone. As well as the girls. There were pictures of the pair of them with the victims. Just before the attacks, I suppose. Larking around and posing for the camera, you could call it, if you didn’t see the one where Andrew was holding down the girl. Philip must have taken the photo and maybe the girl didn’t make it easy to photograph her. In any case, Andrew was holding her down and she looked terrified. It was obvious they were working together. Prowling as a pair. The thought makes me sick even now.’

‘And you confronted him, Andrew, I mean, with what you found?’

‘He was in London. It was a Sunday evening, and he’d gone back down to the flat ready for work the next day. It was why I was so confident that Philip could use my bed.’

‘So you called him and told him to come home.’

Lena wiped a hand across her face. ‘You’d never believe that conversation. I never want to think about it again. But he came back and saw his dead friend in our bed. So I told him why I’d killed him.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He didn’t even try to deny it. He just stood there with a strange look on his face. Told me it was Philip who was the instigator. He just went along with things out of a misplaced loyalty to a teenage friend. So we did a deal. He would leave Bampton, and I would admit to the murder that I’d committed but I’d pretend it was him.’

‘But why pretend that Philip was Andrew?’

‘I half believed him. That Philip was the instigator, I mean. Philip did have a dominant personality. Everything was about him. So, in order for Andrew to disappear, to get away from Bampton, I needed to pretend that it was him I’d killed. If I’d confessed to Philip’s murder it might have come out. About the girls, I mean. It seemed the best way.’

‘You came up with this plan? By yourself?’

Lena hesitated. ‘Yes.’

‘You were prepared to let him off scot-free?’

‘Kat, I wasn’t thinking properly. I thought about ringing the police and telling them what I’d done, but then it would have all come out. I tell you, the police were horrible to me. I bet nothing has changed either.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Lena. There have been huge leaps in how victims of sexual assaults are dealt with by police. There are even dedicated units you can go to who will support you even if you don’t want to press charges.’

‘That’s now. But in 2004? I don’t think things had changed that much. Some of those officers who had treated me like dirt in the eighties were probably still serving in the force.’

‘I don’t know. Maybe you could have . . .’

‘I wasn’t going through that again and I wasn’t going to drag any of their victims into it either. All those other women he’d assaulted. Including you, I thought, at the time. The way you acted. I just thought . . .’

Kat shook her head. ‘I don’t really remember the night you were talking about. I’d probably been dumped, again, and wasn’t very happy about it. Given that we weren’t close any more, I wouldn’t have confided in you.’

‘Bampton was a nightmare for teenage girls at that time. I suspected then and I know now. It didn’t take much for me to think you’d been a victim too.’

‘So you decided to protect us? How could you be so idiotic?’

‘Andrew was convincing when he told me that Philip was the architect of those assaults,’ said Lena. ‘So I began to formulate a plan. To get him away from Bampton without the real story coming out.’

‘You paid a terrible price for someone else’s actions. Remember how long you spent in prison?’

‘Kat! I deserved it. I killed someone. In cold blood as well.’

‘I don’t think a jury would have considered it to be in cold blood if the evidence of the photos had come out.’

Lena’s face took on the familiar closed look. ‘That was never going to happen.’

‘And now Andrew’s dead too. Did you kill him?’

Lena turned to her. ‘You’ve got to believe me. What I’ve just told you is everything. I didn’t kill Andrew. We agreed that we’d never see each other again. But he came back and now he’s actually dead. So what happens next?’