The Reckoning (15 page)

TWENTY-NINE

“Okay, Mr Over,” Jason said, ignoring the
noisy protests as he and the journalist settled onto the rusty bench in his garden,
“where would you like to begin?”

Justin took his time considering what his
first question should be. As a retired detective inspector, he was sure the man
next to him had been asked just about every question it was possible to be
asked; he wanted to try and come up with something different. At the same time,
he couldn’t help wondering if the deal he had made was worth it; an exclusive
interview with Jason Denton, retired DI, successful author, and falsely accused
suspect in multiple murders, in return for leaving Lucy Davis and Constable
Donna Harp alone.

On balance, the deal was a good one, he
decided. While it would be good for him to interview the police officer who had
arrested Michael Davis, and the teen murderer’s sister, an interview with Jason
Denton would hold more weight for him. More papers would be interested in an
article involving a retired DI and successful author, than in one involving an
unknown constable and a young girl.

“I suppose this is an obvious place to
start,” Justin said, knowing that it was exactly what just about any other
journalist would do, “but why don’t you tell me, in your own words what has
happened here in Greenville over the course of the past week and a half. After
that, well, we’ll see where the interview takes us, if you’re agreeable.” As he
spoke, he hit the record button on his Dictaphone, so he could add Jason
Denton’s account to those he had already gathered.

“Well I can’t tell you much about the
disappearance of Danielle Pale,” Jason told him. “I was aware that she had gone
missing, through the gossip I overheard around the village, but it wasn’t until
I found her body, and was later arrested for her murder, that I learned the
details of her disappearance.”

“Fair enough; why don’t we start with your
introduction to this drama then,” Justin suggested; while he waited for Jason
to begin, he allowed his gaze to wander around the garden that sat at the rear
of the house, not that what he saw could really be considered a garden in his
opinion.

To his mind, a garden was a patch of green
lawn with flowers providing a decorative border; the area before him more
closely resembled a jungle, he wouldn’t have been surprised to see a big cat
come stalking out of the undergrowth in search of prey.

“Sure,” Jason said agreeably. Since he had
made the deal with the journalist he saw no reason not to give as clear an
account of events as he could, especially since doing so would keep Justin away
from Donna and Lucy. He especially wanted to keep the journalist away from
Lucy, who had been through more than enough for one day, without being
questioned by someone who was only interested in a story. “I guess you could
say it all started with an unexpected visit,” he began, before going on to
recount the events that had taken place, what he knew of them, since the
previous Friday.

So much had happened in such a short space of
time, it didn’t seem possible. Despite everything he had witnessed and
experienced, Jason couldn’t believe that it had only been five days since he
discovered Danielle’s body on the riverbank.

*****

“I guess that about covers everything,”
Justin said after the interview had lasted for a little more than an hour,
during which time he had listened to everything Jason had to say, and he had
asked every question he could think of. “Just one last question, if you don’t
mind.”

“Sure,” Jason shrugged, “one more question
isn’t going to hurt.”

“Okay, well, Mr Denton, you’ve been a
detective inspector, you are a currently a published author, and recently you
have been a suspect; it’s fair to say that you have now seen both the law and
criminal cases from all sides.” Jason nodded at that. “How do you feel that is
likely to affect your writing in the future? Do you think it will enable you to
write with a greater degree of realism? And do you now feel a little more
sympathy for those people you may have arrested incorrectly during your time as
a detective?”

“That’s three questions, Mr Over,” Jason
couldn’t help commenting. “But no worries. Firstly, and I think all writers
feel the same, everything that I experience helps to make me a better writer.
It doesn’t matter how minor an event, it’s all something that can be used to
make my books better, not that recent events could be considered minor.
Certainly what I, and the village, have been through over the past week or so
will have an effect on my writing; exactly how much of an effect remains to be
seen, but I suspect it will lead to me writing characters with more depth and
understanding. At least I hope that will be the result,” he said with a smile.

“What about those you may have arrested
incorrectly?” Justin repeated his last question.

Jason didn’t say anything for a few moments.
“I’d like to say that I’ve never arrested anyone incorrectly,” he said finally.
“But we both know that would be a lie. I don’t think any detective can say
honestly that they’ve never arrested someone incorrectly, it’s an occupational
hazard. Despite that, I’d like to think that I always did my best to ensure
that I didn’t arrest people without ample evidence, and that I released them
the moment it was determined that they were innocent.

“As for whether I feel sympathy for them. I
can certainly appreciate that they will have been through an emotionally trying
experience, and I’ll admit that I probably wasn’t as considerate of their
feelings and the effect being arrested may have had on them as I could have
been.”

“At least you’re willing to admit that,”
Justin remarked, a lot of the police officers he had encountered over the
years, detectives and otherwise, would rather have died than admit to making a
mistake, especially one like arresting the wrong person.

Jason shrugged. “Everyone makes mistakes,
it’s better to admit to them and try to learn from them, than to hide them.”

THIRTY

Michael was alone in the living room for more
than an hour before his friend joined him. That didn’t bother him all that
much, being alone gave him time to think about his situation, and what he was
going to do. He didn’t have the slightest clue, despite giving it careful
thought. He had very little money to his name, no vehicle, nowhere to go, and
no way of getting money or a vehicle without stealing them.

The only distraction he had had from his
thoughts, after establishing that there was no news for him to check, were the
sounds that came from upstairs. Sounds that revealed exactly what his friend
was doing, as well as the fact that his partner, whoever she may be, was both
enjoying what they were doing and vocal about it.

Strangely, he found himself thinking of Gordon,
Danielle’s cousin, a man he hated with a passion. While he wasn’t well-off,
Gordon and his friends always had enough money to get whatever they wanted, and
they rarely got arrested, even though everyone knew they were criminals.

Michael was confident that if Gordon and his
friends could get away with their crimes, he could manage to steal enough
money, and whatever else he might need, to get by. At least until he could sort
out somewhere to go and a way to earn money legally without getting caught.

“Okay, Mike,” Andy Andrews dropped onto the
sofa at the opposite end to his friend after collecting a beer from the fridge,
“what trouble are you in that you need to lay low here for a while? I don’t
think I can remember you ever being in trouble before, certainly not anything
serious enough for you to need to hide out from it.”

Michael didn’t answer immediately, he was too
busy draining the last of the beer from the bottle in his hand. “Gordon,” he
said finally. “Dani and Gordon.”

“What’s the problem with that stupid prick
now?” Andy wanted to know.

“Dani and I split the other day,” Michael
told his friend. “She went crying to Gordon, no surprise there, she goes to him
about everything; he’s looking for me now, he wants to kick my head in for
‘hurting’ his bloody cousin because she can’t take being dumped,” he lied,
counting on his friend to not know what had happened in Greenville, and what he
had done. “After what happened last time he got pissed off because I upset
Dani, I figured I was better off getting out of the village for a day or two,
until they both calm down. I don’t need the aggro, and neither does my dad.”

“He also doesn’t need you laid up for weeks
with broken bones, like you were last time,” Andy remarked, well aware of what
had happened on the previous occasion that Gordon had been after his friend.

“Yeah, that too,” Michael agreed. “So, am I
alright to stay here for a couple of days until Gordon calms down, and Dani
gets over being dumped?” he asked.

Before Andy could answer, he was interrupted
by the arrival of his girlfriend. “Oh, hey, honey,” he said when she walked
into the living room. “This is Mike, he’s a friend from Greenville. Mike, this
is Becca,” he made the introductions.

“Hi.” Michael nodded, paying scant attention
to the girl, other than to note that his friend still had a taste for girls who
were on the plump side.

“Hello.” Becca flushed a little as she
entered the room and made her way over to the armchair. It was clear she was
uncomfortably aware that Michael had overheard her and Andy, and knew they had
been enjoying an afternoon session.

“Well?” Michael asked. “Is it alright?”

“Is what alright?” Becca asked, not having
heard Michael’s question as she descended the stairs.

“Mike needs somewhere to stay for a day or
two,” Andy answered her. “Sure thing, Mike, no probs, as long as the couch is
alright with you; I’m sure my housemate won’t have a problem with you staying
here.”

“Cheers, Andy. Don’t worry, I’ll be out of
here just as soon as I can,” Michael assured his friend. “Hopefully Gordon will
have calmed down by tomorrow, Dani certainly will, she doesn’t hold grudges,”
he said, continuing his lie.

Andy nodded. “Dani’s probably forgiven you
already; I wouldn’t like to bet on Gordon calming down by tomorrow, though,
it’s liable to take longer than that for him to forget about you upsetting
Dani. Mind you, if she tells him to leave you alone, he will; he can be relied
upon to do what Dani tells him, if nothing else.”

While the two friends discussed recent
happenings in Greenville, with Michael being careful not to reveal what had
actually been happening in the village, Becca watched the television.

*****

“Another beer?” Andy asked of Michael as he
got to his feet.

“Sure, thanks.” Michael was more than happy
to have another drink while he relaxed, as much as he was able to, given the
circumstances.

“Becca?” Andy looked over at his girlfriend.

With a shake of her head, Becca declined. “No
thanks, it’s a bit early for me.” She turned back to the television then, not
that she was really paying all that much attention to the show that was on.

While Andy left the room to get the beers,
Michael looked over at the television, just in time for the show to finish and
the credits to roll up the screen. A minute or so later, after a couple of
adverts, the news began.

“As reported earlier today, local police are
on the lookout for this man, Michael Davis, who escaped from custody at St
Bartholomew’s Hospital. He is considered to be extremely…”

“Andy!”

Seeing a picture of himself appear on the
television, and hearing Becca call urgently for her boyfriend, Michael surged
to his feet, the knife he had kept hidden by his leg in his hand. In two
strides, he was across the room and at the armchair; he grabbed the front of
Becca’s top and hauled her up, which was no easy feat since she weighed about
as much as he did.

He heard his friend in the passage outside
the living room as he spun Becca round and brought the knife up. By the time
Andy appeared in the doorway Michael had the point of the knife against Becca’s
throat; he had it pressed so tight against her skin that a drop of blood welled
up, red against the stark whiteness.

“What the fuck, Mike!” Andy exclaimed when he
saw what his friend was doing.

THIRTY-ONE

Thankful for the deal Jason had made, which
meant she didn’t have to worry about being pestered by Justin the journalist,
Donna walked slowly down the road. She allowed herself the luxury of enjoying
the late afternoon sun – thankfully it wasn’t being obscured by the clouds
gathering on the horizon – for a short while, before taking out her mobile
phone and notepad as she reached the church.

“Hello, Mrs Gardiner, I’m Constable Harp from
Greenville,” she said when her call to the number Joe Proud had given her was
answered. “I’m sorry to disturb you, is it convenient to talk at this time?”

Elizabeth Gardiner’s voice was curious. “What
do you need to talk to me about?”

“It concerns a Mr Joe Proud, whom I believe
you are acquainted with,” Donna told her. “Mr Proud has been accused of
vandalising vehicles belonging to the Dean Stables, where he worked until
recently. The vandalism took place last night, and Mr Proud’s alibi is that he
spent the night with you. I can appreciate, based on what Mr Proud told me,
that you don’t wish your husband to know where you were last night, but it
would help my investigation if you could confirm his story.”

“I’m sorry, what are you asking?” Elizabeth
wanted to know, her voice taking on an apprehensive note.

“Were you with Mr Proud last night?” Donna
asked. “I assure you, there’s no need for your husband to know,” she said when
Elizabeth hesitated to answer.

After a long period of silence, during which
Donna guessed Elizabeth was trying to decide whether to be honest or not, she
answered. “Yes, I spent last night with Joe.”

Donna suspected her husband wasn’t home, and
that if he had been, she would have been less inclined to admit to spending the
night with the stable boy. “Did you spend the whole night with him?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said in a resigned voice, as
if reluctant to answer. “I was with him at his place from about eight in the
evening until about ten this morning; that’s when I left to come home.”

“Could Mr Proud have left at any point during
the night?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, is it possible that Mr Proud could
have gone out during the night, after you went to sleep? Could he perhaps have
left the house without disturbing you?” Donna didn’t really know what she was
doing with the investigation, she was simply following her instincts as best
she could. She knew from how heavy a sleeper she was, though, that just because
two people went to bed together, it didn’t mean they both stayed in bed, or
that the departure of one of them would be noticed by the other.

“No, definitely not.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I had enough difficulty trying to
sleep on that lumpy thing Joe calls a mattress,” Elizabeth told her. “I must
have been awake for half the night; if Joe had tried to leave, he would have
woken me.”

Since she couldn’t think of any reason for
Elizabeth Gardiner to lie, Donna had to accept what she said. That meant there
appeared to be no way Joe Proud could be responsible for the vandalism.
Unfortunately, clearing Joe Proud left her with no suspects. Someone had
vandalised the vehicles at the stables, but she now didn’t have a clue who.

There was only one thing she could, she
realised, and that was talk to all of the staff at the stables. One of them
might know something that would help her.

“Thank you, Mrs Gardiner, I’m sorry to have
disturbed you.”

“That’s quite alright, Constable, I’m glad I
could help,” Elizabeth said, though her voice lacked conviction. “Will it be
necessary for me to make an official statement or anything?” she asked
worriedly.

Donna had no difficulty imagining what
Elizabeth Gardiner was thinking, she was concerned that her husband would find
out that she was having an affair. “I don’t think that will be necessary,” she
said reassuringly. “Since Mr Proud hasn’t been arrested, or even questioned officially,
there’s no need for a statement from you, not at this time anyway.” The sigh of
relief that echoed down the phone made her smile. “If the situation should
change, I’ll be sure to let you know.”