The Perfect Lie, page 4
‘A woman?’ Julie asked.
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘And this was at what time?’
‘Oh, blimey. About half an hour ago now. There’s no use running down the road after her, if that’s what you’re asking me.’
Stuart went next door to have a look through the windows and see if he could spot anything unusual inside.
‘And did you pick anything up from her body language? What sort of state was she in?’ Julie asked Eric.
‘A right old state, if you ask me. She practically ran out, slammed the car door and sped right off the drive. Didn’t even look to see if any traffic was coming. Not that we get much traffic up here, mind. Not since they put that new bypass in. Been an absolute godsend, that has. Did you know, before they put the bypass in we used to get an average of one hundred and eighty cars an hour along this road? That’s one every twenty seconds. Right little rat run, it was. They reckon now it’s more like twenty an hour. That’s one every three minutes. Much more tolerable, if you ask me.’
Julie forced a smile. ‘So she was panicked, would you say?’
‘Oh yes, I’d say. Looked like they’d had a right old barney. That’s why I popped over to see if Roger was alright. When I couldn’t get any answer, I decided to call the police.’
‘Julie,’ Stuart called, rounding the corner onto the driveway once again. ‘Side gate was unlocked. I peered through the kitchen window. You got a sec?’
12
Earlier that morning, 9.40am.
Stuart stood back, lifted his leg and aimed the sole of his boot at the back door’s lock.
It took four solid kicks before it split and allowed him to push his way through and into the kitchen.
Julie called on her radio for immediate police backup and an ambulance.
Stuart, thinking he might have detected a very faint pulse, carefully laid Roger on the floor and began to perform CPR.
Julie stepped back outside to speak to Eric.
‘Is he okay?’ he asked, before Julie could even say a word.
‘We’re doing what we can.’
‘Oh god. He’s not, is he? I can see his legs. I can see the blood. Oh god.’
Julie took Eric to one side, out of sight of the kitchen.
‘This woman you saw leaving earlier. Can you describe her or the car for me?’
‘Uh, I don’t know. She’s kind of… nice looking. I guess. Young, you know.’
‘Young? How young?’
‘Oh god, I don’t know. It’s so difficult to tell these days.’
‘Younger than me?’ Julie asked.
‘Oh my, yes.’
Julie tried not to look offended. ‘And what about the car? Do you know what make and model it was?’
‘No, no I don’t. Is he going to be okay? Roger, I mean. Will he pull through?’
‘We hope so. My colleague’s doing everything he can, and the paramedics are on their way.’
‘Has she killed him?’
‘We’re hoping not. But we do need to find her, I hope you understand that.’
Eric seemed to steel himself slightly. ‘Yes, yes, of course.’
‘So the car. You don’t remember seeing a badge at all? Was it a big car? Small one?’
‘They’re all getting bigger these days. Some of them are enormous great tractors compared to what we used to have when I was younger. Can I see him? Maybe I can try talking to him, get him to come round a bit.’
‘I’m afraid not, no. We need to keep the area secured as a crime scene. Even if he’s fine, there’s been at least a very serious assault which will need investigating. Now, I need you to concentrate for me. My colleague is taking good care of Roger. I need you to help me with some information so we can catch whoever did this. Does that make sense?’
Eric swallowed and nodded. ‘Yes, yes. Perfect sense.’
Julie wasn’t so sure. ‘Okay, good. What colour was the car she drove away in?’
‘Uh, blue, I think. Yes, blue.’
‘Okay. Dark blue? Light blue?’
Eric shook his head. ‘No, just blue.’
‘Right. Okay. And was it smaller than most cars? One of the big ones?’
‘It was on the smaller side, I suppose. Not tiny by any means, but not one of the massive ones.’
‘So a medium-sized blue car?’
‘That’s the one, yes. Do you know it?’
Julie looked at him for a moment. ‘I don’t think so, no. What about the woman herself? How would you describe her, physically speaking?’
‘Well… she’s sort of slender. Long hair.’
‘What colour hair?’
‘Light. Blonde, I suppose you’d call it.’
‘And is there anything else you can remember?’
Eric seemed to think for a moment, then shook his head. ‘No. No, that’s all I know.’
Julie asked Eric to wait round the front of the house to guide any backup vehicles or ambulance response units in, while she radioed in the details she’d been given.
‘We’re looking for a medium-sized blue car — no further details at this moment — driven by a young, blonde woman of slim build,’ she said, putting the call out for backup. ‘We’ll try to get more specific details, but it’s not looking promising at this stage.’
She stepped into the kitchen to see how Stuart was getting on.
‘I don’t think we’re getting anything,’ he said. ‘I’m pretty sure he’s gone.’
Julie sighed. ‘You know what they’ll say, Stu. Pretty sure’s not sure enough.’
‘What’s the point?’ he said. ‘The bloke’s head’s been caved in. He’s gone.’
‘I know. But you’ve got to protect your own arse. You don’t want to be going through the investigations and disciplinaries after this. Trust me.’
It was almost ten o’clock by the time the paramedics had arrived, done their bit and finally declared life extinct. Two colleagues were on the front drive, consoling a blood-covered Stuart, who’d now be scarred for life at the memory of having to spend twenty minutes trying to bring a dead man back to life.
Julie had known colleagues who’d had to do similar things. One of them had attended a suicide, where a man had thrown himself off the top of a multi-storey car park. The overriding responsibility to save life, plus the pressure of hordes of people watching, meant he’d been obliged to carry out CPR in order to try and save the man’s life. It had been completely futile. The guy was practically liquidised the moment he hit the pavement. But the instruction to try at all costs had been beaten into him so hard during his training, and the pressure of a watching public meant he felt he had no choice in the matter.
That officer had been traumatised by nightmares and flashbacks, and doctors eventually diagnosed him with post-traumatic stress disorder. He never worked again. Eighteen months later, he ended his own life.
Julie was keen to make sure Stuart didn’t go the same way. She’d make it her personal duty to ensure he was looked after and given the care and treatment he was going to need. Stu was a tough cookie, but even the toughest of cookies crumbled under that sort of pressure.
She watched as the paramedics brought Roger’s body down the side passage and lifted it into the ambulance, before driving off without their sirens on.
13
Earlier that morning, 10.05am.
Stuart had been taken away from the scene by colleagues, but Julie had decided to stay at the scene with the other officers.
She was certain there was more to be had from the neighbour, Eric Black. She didn’t think he was deliberately hiding anything from her, but she had a good sense of when a witness had more than a passing familiarity with a suspect.
She sat down in his living room with him and a young PC she’d not met before, and watched as Eric spooned four sugars into his tea, before slurping at it.
‘Eric, I know you’re obviously very upset and it’s been a very traumatic morning for you, but the first hour or two gives us the best chance of catching whoever did this. And you’re the person who can help us.’
Eric shook his head. ‘I’ve told you everything I know.’
Julie ignored his protestations. ‘So, to recap. You saw a medium-sized blue car, is that right?’
‘Yes.’
‘You don’t know the make or model?’
‘No.’
‘And had you seen this car before?’ Julie asked.
‘That specific car, or just that type of car?’
‘That specific one. Or any car which could have been that one, parked up at Roger’s house in the past.’
Eric seemed to think for a moment. ‘Well, yes.’
Bingo. This was exactly why Julie wanted to press him further.
‘When?’
‘Uh, quite often. Maybe once every few weeks. Sometimes less.’
‘Do you remember any part of the car’s registration number at all?’
Eric thought for a moment, then shook his head. ‘No. Not at all.’
‘What about the age? Do you remember the two numbers in the middle of the registration? Maybe the three letters at the end?’
‘No, sorry. I don’t have a very good memory for things like that. And in any case I wouldn’t have been able to see the plate without my glasses on.’
‘And what about the woman?’ Julie asked. ‘Was she usually in the car?’
‘Oh, yes. And sometimes in the other one, too.’
Julie raised her eyebrows, her interest piqued. ‘The other one?’
‘Yes, there’s a black car too. One of those big ones, you know. Like a tractor.’
‘A four-by-four?’
‘Yes, that’s the one.’
‘Do you know the make and model of that one?’
Eric very suddenly lost his temper. ‘Oh for Christ’s sake, no. I don’t know cars. I don’t know how many times I need to keep telling you this.’
Julie could tell when she was perhaps pushing things too far, but she knew she was close to picking up a golden nugget. The fact he’d seen the suspect before, and that she had a second car, was entirely new information and she felt sure there was more still to come.
‘Okay, sorry. And I presume you don’t know the registration number of the big black vehicle either?’
Eric looked her in the eye and spoke firmly. ‘No.’
‘Alright. And was she always on her own in this car?’
‘Sometimes if she was in the blue one. The black one, no. He usually drives the black one. And most of the time they’ve got the kids with them.’
Julie blinked a few times. ‘Sorry, who’s “he”? And the kids?’
‘Her husband. And their little ones. Who else did you think I meant?’
Julie shuffled slightly in her seat. ‘Sorry, I think I’ve missed something. Do you know these people?’
‘Oh, no. Not personally.’
‘But do you know who she is? The woman you saw driving away this morning?’
‘Well, I can’t tell you much. All I can tell you is she’s Roger’s daughter-in-law.’
Julie had to physically stop her jaw from dropping. Over forty minutes they’d been here now, and it was well over an hour since Roger had been attacked and the suspect had fled, and this guy picks now to tell the police who she is?
‘Do you know her first name?’ Julie asked.
Eric shook his head. ‘No. Sorry.’
‘What about the husband? Children, perhaps? Roger must have mentioned their names at some point.’
‘Well, no. He’s not lived there that long. He downsized and moved here after his wife died, see. I don’t know. I suppose I’ve never asked. They sort of keep themselves to themselves.’
‘Excuse me for a minute,’ she said to her colleague, stepping out of the room.
She put a call out on her radio. ‘We have some new information regarding the suspect. It’s believed she’s the daughter-in-law of the deceased. No full name at this point, but we presume the surname is Walker.’
Julie looked at her watch. It was now getting on for 10.15. With any luck, the on-duty SIO would be there shortly to take control of the investigation. She couldn’t take any chances, though. She called into the control room and asked them give her authorisation to start going door-to-door. She felt sure that someone, somewhere in this street must know the woman’s name.
14
Earlier that morning, 10.15am.
For Julie, this was one of the worst parts of the job. Most of her colleagues hated doing paperwork or collating information back at the office, but she didn’t mind that. More often than not, it was something that helped solve a crime or take a case on to the next stage.
Door-to-door enquiries tended to follow a fairly predictable pattern. Most people wouldn’t be in. That took a significant dent out of the potential witness pool. Of those who did answer their doors, the majority would just shake their heads and give her a blank stare, as if she’d asked them to solve the Hodge conjecture. Those who did have something to say, would usually say something entirely useless and unrelated to the enquiry.
Of course, there were times when door-to-door and telephone enquiries threw up some gold nuggets, but it was rare. The reason it was done so often was because it was free, relatively easy and tended to reveal information which the police might not have been aware of otherwise.
There was no answer from the first three houses Julie knocked at on Missingham Drive. It was August, so many people would be away on holiday. It was also a sunny Saturday, so those who weren’t on holiday would be out somewhere else, enjoying the sunshine and doing whatever it was normal people did at the weekend.
The fourth house she knocked at was across the road and a couple of doors further down. A young-ish woman opened the door. Julie could hear the sound of children playing noisily inside.
She introduced herself and asked if the woman had seen anything odd going on across the road that morning.
‘No, I don’t think so. To be honest, though, I’ve not really been looking. I’ve been in the kitchen sorting stuff out for the barbecue. We’ve got a few friends over later.’
Julie smiled. She could just about remember what it was like to socialise.
‘Well there’s been a serious incident that’s occurred, so if anything does pop into your mind, can you give me a call?’ Julie handed her a card, which had the local police force’s logo, her name and rank and her contact details.
‘Oh right. Yeah, okay,’ the woman said, her tone changing perceptibly.
‘While I’m here,’ Julie said, trying to make it sound like a casual afterthought, ‘I don’t suppose you know anything about Roger Walker’s family, do you?’
‘Like what? He lives on his own, I think. His wife died a couple of years back.’
‘What about other family? Do they come to visit at all?’
‘Oh yeah, they do. He’s got a son. Brendan, I think it is. My other half went to school with him.’
‘Oh really?’ Julie replied, trying not to sound too enthusiastic. Although this woman could be a fantastic source of information, Julie was aware that some people were very protective over their communities. If they thought the information they gave was likely to get someone they knew into trouble, they tended to shut up shop pretty quickly. ‘Do you know the rest of the family’s names?’
The woman pushed her lips out and shook her head. ‘No, don’t think so. Steve might know. One sec.’
The woman stepped back into the house and disappeared into the kitchen. A couple of seconds later, a man stepped into view, wiping his hands on a dishcloth.
‘Do you remember what your old mate Brendan’s missus is called? The one whose dad lives across the road,’ the woman said.
The man looked at Julie for a moment. ‘Uh, Amy I think. Yeah, Amy. Why?’
‘There was an incident at one of your neighbours’ houses earlier on this morning, and we just need to try and get as much information and context as we can. Did you see or hear anything at all?’
The man did the same pushing-out of the lip and shake of the head his partner had done only moments earlier. ‘No, don’t think so, did we?’ he asked her.
‘No, sorry. Why, what happened anyway? Is Roger alright?’
‘We’re not sure yet,’ Julie said, trying to skirt around the question. She had some more things she needed to ask before she was able to pull the shutters down on this one. ‘Do Brendan and Amy visit regularly?’
‘Yeah, pretty regularly,’ the man said, throwing the dishcloth onto his shoulder and leaning against the hall wall. ‘They usually come together with the kids, but there’ll quite often be one of them on their own. At least once a week, I’d say.’
His partner nodded her agreement.
‘Do they live locally?’
‘I’m not sure,’ the man said. ‘I don’t imagine they can be far away. Brendan used to live in town when he was growing up. We went to school together. But I’ve not spoken to him since.’
‘Are you friends on Facebook or anything like that?’
‘Nah. I don’t really use it, to be honest. Got too much going on.’
Julie nodded. If only more people were like him. ‘But you think they still live locally?’
‘Well, yeah. They’re over here a fair bit and I’ve seen them around town before, so I don’t think they live far away.
Julie nodded. ‘Do you know what sort of car they drive?’
The man’s eyes flicked upwards and he raised his eyebrows. ‘Uh, they’ve got a black Range Rover. That’s the one they usually turn up in. But sometimes if it’s just her and the kids she’s got a blue Fiesta, or it might be a Focus. One of those.’
Julie tried to hide her excitement. ‘I don’t suppose you know the reg numbers, do you?’
The man shook his head. ‘No idea, I’m afraid.’
Julie smiled. ‘Alright, not to worry. I’ll get one of my colleagues to pop in shortly and take a statement, if that’s alright? I just need to make a quick call.’
‘Oh right. Yeah. Okay,’ the man said, seemingly thrown off balance. ‘What’s happened, then? Is everything alright?’
