Then She Was Gone (30 page)

Johnson began to shift in his chair. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Of course you do. It was a group you founded, along with seven other students, back in 2007 when you started university in Liverpool.’

‘It was nothing . . .’

‘Of course it was,’ Murphy said, leaning forwards on his elbows, the metal table hard and cold. ‘It took up a lot of your time, I imagine. Creating something like that often
does.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Come on, Tim, let’s be honest here. We’re not here because we don’t know anything. We just want your help. Do you want to do that or not?’

‘I . . . I don’t know how I can help.’

Johnson had a soft accent, Murphy thought. Southern, but not west counties. Closer to the London boroughs and surrounding areas. Posh, clipped tones, which jarred in the place they were sitting.
He glanced at Rossi, giving her the nod.

‘Let’s start at the beginning,’ Rossi said, sliding her file in front of her and opening it. ‘You start the club along with seven other young men. Why? What was its
purpose?’

‘I don’t know really,’ Johnson replied, his voice quiet in the small room. He had pulled up the sleeve on the grey sweater he was wearing so that it covered his right hand. He
leaned on his balled-up fist, occasionally stroking his stubble with the corner of the sleeve. ‘The Abercromby Boys Club. The name doesn’t really do it justice. It was supposed to help
us all out. It wasn’t my idea.’

‘Whose idea was it?’

‘Sam Byrne’s. He seemed to know what he was talking about. He made it sound like we have whatever we wanted by being a part of it. We had to wear certain things, work in certain
circles. We’d all be compensated well once we left university and began our careers. Great jobs, making a lot of money. That sort of thing. We could achieve whatever we desired, he
reckoned.’

‘What was the reality?’

Johnson stared at the metal table, tracing a pattern on the surface with his left hand. ‘Pretty much what I’d expected. We were young, didn’t really want to do much else other
than drink, meet girls, that sort of thing. I wasn’t sure what the point of it was.’

‘You went along with it, though.’

‘Yeah, it was fun. After the first year, we started recruiting more members. It was getting bigger every semester and it was all the right people joining. Those with money and power.
Well-known families, that sort of thing. I wasn’t expecting anything like it at a university in Liverpool. It felt like we were building something better for the place. Somewhere that was
inviting for young people all around the country, those who didn’t get into the better universities . . . that they could still be someone.’

‘Right, and how did you achieve that?’

Johnson hesitated; unsure of himself, Murphy thought.

‘We would just . . . help each other. We were all well connected. We all came from good backgrounds, which meant that we knew many people in business and
politics.’

‘You’ve heard the news about Sam,’ Murphy said, using the mention of politics to shift the conversation.

‘Yes,’ Johnson replied, looking at Rossi before shifting quickly away. ‘Is that why you’re here?’

‘Partly. We just want to know more about the background of the man.’

‘Do you think him ending up murdered is because of something we did back then?’

Murphy didn’t say anything, wondering how much to give away. ‘That’s a possibility,’ he said, deciding it was probably the best answer in the circumstances.
‘We’re looking into everything.’

He watched as Johnson’s breathing became a little harder, then glanced down at the man’s sleeve-covered hand as it began to shake.

‘I don’t know what could have happened that would have anything to do with this. It was just a silly club. We didn’t do anything that deserved this.’

‘Tell me about the parties,’ Rossi said, looking down at the file in front of her. ‘What went on at those?’

Johnson swallowed and didn’t respond straight away. ‘They were just parties. You know, drinking, men, girls, that sort of thing. By the last year, they had become the place to
be.’

‘And you all took advantage of that,’ Rossi said, looking up at Johnson and waiting for him to look at her. ‘It must have been something else for you boys. All of a sudden
getting all this attention. Tell me, was this the sort of thing that went on at your various private and boarding schools?’

‘Not really.’

‘So, it must have been a nice situation to be in. You’re all used to spending your time with other boys. Now, suddenly, you’re surrounded by young girls. And they all want to
be with you, don’t they?’

Johnson began to say something then stopped himself. He went back to tracing patterns on the metal surface again.

‘There’s one incident we do want to speak to you about,’ Murphy said, bending his head to try and meet Johnson’s gaze. ‘Involving a student in your last
year.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘I think you do. It’s written all over your face. You’re worried about something coming up in this conversation. It’s that, isn’t it?’

Murphy waited for Johnson to reply, but there was only silence. He pushed on regardless. ‘I want to have a guess at what happened, then you can correct me if you need to, sound
fair?’

Johnson still sat in silence, the finger moving slower across the table.

‘As a group, you’re all used to women throwing themselves at you. The eight of you have some prestige because of this club. If someone wasn’t amenable to your advances, it
wouldn’t sit well, would it? So, what happens, is that you do it anyway. All of you, or some of you. You take a young girl from one of your parties and something happens behind closed doors.
You all think she’ll keep quiet, but she doesn’t, does she?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about . . .’

‘You were there,’ Rossi said, hands flat on the table. Murphy could see the pulse in her cheeks as her teeth clenched together. ‘You know what happened.’

‘Depends which time,’ Johnson said, his hands no longer shaking. ‘There were a lot of parties.’

‘If it was all Sam Byrne, that’s all we need to know,’ Murphy said, cutting in before Rossi had chance to say anything. ‘We just need to know the truth.’

‘Sam was always the one looking out for that sort of thing. He was a cad, a real ladies’ man. They all wanted him, that was for sure. He never did anything wrong.’

‘Are you sure about that? Only you don’t sound like you are.’

Johnson tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth. ‘Explain to me why I should help you?’

Murphy had hoped that question wouldn’t come up. ‘Why don’t you tell me about Sam?’

‘No, tell me why I should do anything for you?’ Johnson leaned back in his chair, his body shaking now. ‘It’s because of all of you I’m here in the first place. I
should be out there, finding my daughter and living my life. Instead, I’m stuck in prison for something I haven’t done, while Molly is out there in danger. Or even . . .
I don’t know.’

Rossi gave Murphy a look as Johnson collapsed onto the table with his head in his hands. They didn’t have any leverage here, which pissed off Murphy royally. ‘Look, Tim,’ he
said, as Johnson’s shoulders hitched from silent tears. ‘I don’t know the full story, but I promise once we’re done with our investigation, we’ll take another look
into what happened. Something is going on with regards to your original group members, so I do want to check that you weren’t involved in that.’

‘Really?’ Johnson said, lifting his head a little and exposing his face. Murphy didn’t believe in being able to read people to the extent some professed to. Yet, there was
something in Johnson’s expression which jarred with him. If Johnson had really killed the woman he was in prison for, then it was an Oscar-worthy performance.

‘You just need to help us,’ Murphy continued, carefully working things through in his head. ‘Is there anything you think we should know?’

Johnson sniffed and propped himself up on his elbows. ‘I don’t know. There were rumours, that’s all. There was eight of us, so we weren’t in each other’s pockets.
We would split into smaller groups. Some of us were closer than others. We mostly lost touch after we left university, but I knew if something happened I could call on them.’

‘Did you? When this all started?’

Johnson hesitated, looking between Murphy and Rossi then back at the table. ‘No.’

It was the first time during the interview that Murphy could definitely say Tim had lied. He decided to leave it alone.

‘What happened in your final year? Something did, didn’t it? That’s why you took yourself away and had little to do with them.’

‘There was one girl. It wasn’t right,’ Johnson said, his voice quiet again. ‘I told them that.’

‘What wasn’t right?’

‘What . . . they did to that girl. It didn’t need to happen, but they wouldn’t listen.’

‘You need to tell us everything you know,’ Rossi said, keeping her voice strong and even, her knuckles growing whiter as she gripped the table.

‘I wasn’t there, honest. I found out later, when she was going around telling everyone what happened. Some first year, I don’t know her name, just recognised her from the
campus. She was always buzzing around us. She wanted to be close to us, as so many did. She looked so young. Sam liked them looking like that.’

‘Like what?’ Murphy said, trying to keep his feelings under better control than Rossi. She was gritting her teeth again, and experience told him that even though she was usually able
to keep check of her emotions, it wasn’t working right now.

‘Young, like teenager age, I guess. He liked that look. I don’t know what happened that night but it wasn’t the only time it happened. It was the first time someone made a
complaint, though. She ended up leaving university, but I heard she was still sniffing around years later. Sam’s parents rang me and asked about it. Thing is, you’ve got to understand,
these girls were up for anything the night before, but then the next day it would be all different.’

‘Walk me through what you know to have occurred that night,’ Murphy said, trying to work out the man in front of him. He seemed meek, broken, but there was something about the way he
spoke, with such emptiness and a lack of empathy, that worried at him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Johnson was lying. Then he remembered they were in a prison, with a convicted
murderer, and he shook it off.

‘I don’t know really,’ Johnson said, glassy eyes landing on Murphy and staying there. ‘I saw them the next morning, I think. If I’m remembering the right
night.’

‘Who’s them?’ Rossi said, pen in hand. ‘Names.’

‘I don’t know. It could have been any of us. We would meet up for coffee the day after these parties and we were always full of it. I remember that night a bit clearer, that’s
all. Mainly because of what happened afterwards. It was a close call. Sounded like she was right up for it, but we were worried as well, you know?’

‘No, I really, really don’t,’ Murphy said, then stopped himself from saying any more. ‘What happened after that?’

‘She apparently started talking. Changed her mind and decided they had done something she hadn’t wanted them to. I knew those guys and they weren’t like that. It wouldn’t
be their fault if she’d decided the next day that she didn’t want to be known for being that type.’

Murphy felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room. They had heard so many similar stories over the years that it wasn’t really surprising to hear. It was the complete lack of
thought which always jarred with him.

‘We’re talking multiple men and one first year student . . .’

‘It happened all the time. These girls, they’d be throwing themselves at us constantly. Yeah, they’d be drunk, but they weren’t saying anything that night. They’d
come back with us willingly and it wouldn’t be until they started feeling guilty the next day that they’d say anything was wrong. Not our fault. It’s not like they were saying no,
was it?’

‘Probably weren’t saying yes, either,’ Rossi said, the words coming out in a hiss.

‘Why was this girl different?’ Murphy said, trying to keep things on track and not jump over the table and teach the young guy a lesson. ‘If this sort of thing happened often,
why do you remember her?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I think you do,’ Murphy said, not letting it go. ‘The memory of this one came back to you so easily. You knew exactly what we were talking about. Why?’

Johnson shrugged, shutting down after being so willing to speak before.

‘Want to know what I think,’ Rossi said, leaning towards Johnson. ‘I think your hatred of women has landed you here. I bet you were there that night, that’s why it comes
back to you so easily. You know exactly what happened, because you were in that room. When you leave university, and you don’t have your pick any more, it festers inside you. That’s how
you are found guilty of murder, because you couldn’t handle it not coming so easily to you any more.’

‘You really don’t know a thing, do you?’ Johnson said, fixing Rossi with a stare. ‘Typical. I knew one of your lot back at university.’

‘What lot?’ Rossi said, Murphy bracing himself to get in between them at any moment.

‘You’re Italian, aren’t you? All the same. Nothing but illogical passion. He was like that. Come to think of it, you share his name.’

‘I think we should leave before I do something,’ Rossi said, turning to Murphy and beginning to get out of her seat.

‘Rosti . . . no, that’s not right. Rossi, that’s what you said. Vinny Rossi ring a bell? A relative from the boat, perhaps? He was a mature student, who wanted
to be one of us. We got rid of him, but not before we found out what he was really like.’

Murphy turned back to Johnson as Rossi grabbed the file from the desk and headed for the door. ‘What did you say?’

‘They all know each other, these Italians. Just like that Polish lot. Ruined my life, them coming over here. You’ve got to help me. I can’t let my daughter become another
slut
like the rest of them.’

Murphy stared at Johnson as he dissolved into tears once more. He looked over at the door where Rossi waited.