Cath Staincliffe: Blue Murder

‘The bonfire was hardly subtle,’ she worked out the time, ‘unless… she’d already got rid of them by Sunday night.’

‘Where?’ Richard thought she was clutching at straws. ‘You said yourself she never went anywhere without-’

Sudden shocking realisation hit her like a cold shower. Jesus Christ! ‘Wait! She did leave the house, we bloody took her! Oh, hell, we’re going to be too late!’ Janine said urgently. She ran, not easy with the weight of the pregnancy and the shortness of breath.

The others followed her through the corridors, across the car park and into the Mortuary building. Along the corridor to the Ladies toilets. She barged past the sign Cleaning in Progress and inside.

‘Oy, closed,’ the cleaner yelled at them all. Cream cleanser in one hand, she dunked her ciggie in the washbasin. ‘Can’t you read?’

‘Have you done the bins?’

Janine went into the stall and upended the sanitary bin. One carrier bag, tightly tied! She undid it, her heart about to burst. Yes! There they were. Jog-pants, a stripe down the side, t-shirt, cap. She left them as they were, careful not to contaminate them.

She closed the bag, stepped out and swung it round

her head.

Richard grinned. Shap cheered and the others gave her a round of applause.

‘Right!’ Her eyes sparkled. ‘You two,’ she nodded at her sergeants, ‘keep The Lemon at bay.’

‘We’ve found the clothes. At the mortuary.’

Janine saw the flicker of fear in Lesley’s eyes, a blink, then she recovered. Richard had seen it too, he dipped his head a fraction.

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

‘I’m sure we’ll get a conviction. The only question will be whether the act was premeditated or not.’ Would Lesley go for the bait, try and persuade them it was in the heat of the moment? ‘You claimed you loved him but his love had become a monstrous thing, hadn’t it Lesley? Destroying you.’

As Janine watched, Lesley Tulley appeared to crumble, her face dissolving in tears, her mouth taut with emotion. ‘It wasn’t like that.’

Thank God, Janine thought, she’s talking.

The solicitor sat forward. ‘Please, Mrs Tulley, I advise you most strongly to take counsel.’

‘If I need any advice, I’ll ask for it.’ She paused, bowed her head as if gathering strength then began to speak. ‘We had a row. A terrible row. He was hitting me and I thought he was going to kill me. There was a knife, on the table in the shed. The knife… I was so frightened. I didn’t mean to hurt him.’

‘Then what did you do?’

‘I didn’t know what to do,’ her eyes were haunted. ‘I was scared.’

‘And the parking ticket?’ Richard said.

‘The man who came today. I took his.’

He frowned. ‘You said he was a friend?’

‘No, a stranger. I asked him for his ticket.’

‘What was he doing at your home?’

Lesley gave him a look; defiance mingled with distaste. ‘Blackmailing me. He’d watched the Press Conference.’

Janine exhaled and exchanged a look of disgust with Richard. ‘We can do him for that. This row. What was it about?’

‘About the filming. I wanted it to stop. He’d promised. He said I wouldn’t have to do it again.’

‘What were you doing at the allotment?’

‘I went with him, to help out.’

She was lying but very convincingly, her demeanour all honesty now.

‘Lesley. Matthew was seen arriving alone. You had no cuts or bruises.’ Janine spoke softly. ‘It wasn’t self-defence.’

‘Of course it was self-defence,’ she said, anguish twisting her features, ‘you know what he did to me? Remember the diary? Little stars? Film night. Friday was the next one. Prosser was coming back; he was so -’ She broke off, pressed her hand to her mouth, struggled to stay in control. She looked up at Janine her eyes glittering. ‘I can’t have children. My hysterectomy? Matthew told the hospital that I’d been depressed and tried to abort myself. He was very plausible. Do you know what they had used on me that time?’

Janine swallowed her revulsion. You poor bloody woman. But I have to do this. This is what I do. ‘You thought you could get away with it?’

‘I couldn’t think,’ Lesley cried, ‘I’d done a terrible thing and I felt guilty. And Matthew-’

Janine was measured, insistent. ‘You followed him there, you took a knife and you took his life. There was a cut on his arm where he tried to stop you. Nine years, Lesley. Why didn’t you leave him?’

‘I loved him.’ She paused. ‘Once, one time I packed. I couldn’t do it. I was scared.’

‘That he’d find you?’

‘Of losing him.’ Raw emotion made her voice crack.

‘Why Saturday, Lesley?’

‘I told you. Matthew had promised me it was over. He broke his promise.’

‘You could have gone to your sister’s, gone anywhere,’ Janine reasoned.

‘No, no, I couldn’t.’

‘Why not?’ Janine coaxed. ‘Why not, Lesley?’

‘Because he said he’d get someone else if I went,’ she said passionately. ‘That it’d be easy enough to find another girl and teach her, exactly like he had me. Break her.’

Janine felt the tension palpable in the room. The silence stretched. ‘So you killed him?’

‘I couldn’t let him do that.’ There was an ambiguity there. Had she killed him out of jealousy, unwilling to see him with another? Or out of altruism?

Janine nodded. ‘The argument,’ she said gently, ‘when was it, Lesley? Last week? The week before? That’s when you decided, wasn’t it? You couldn’t let some other woman go through that. You’d stop him for good.’

Lesley looked at Janine, her gaze confessing the truth, seeking absolution. A prayer in her eyes. She didn’t need to speak for Janine to find the answer. The admission. And then like a shutter coming down, Lesley’s expression switched. She shook her head.

‘No,’ she said.

Janine sat back, took a deep breath. Her work was done. Whether the crime was premeditated would be the business of the courtroom, as would the issue of whether Lesley Tulley deserved any punishment for killing the man who had used her so savagely.

Janine looked at Richard. His eyes steady on her, he adjusted his position. She began to speak. ‘Lesley Tulley, you are charged that on the 22nd of February, year two thousand and three, you murdered Matthew Tulley, contrary to Common Law…’

Janine and Richard were reliving the interview. A sense of achievement in the air despite the tragic circumstances of Lesley Tulley’s life. There was a buzz to it that Janine savoured, knowing how hard they had all worked to get here. Aware that she had done it. Led the team and got a result.

‘When you told her we’d found them. Her eyes, you could see it,’ Richard’s face was alight, his manner exhilarated.

Janine shook her head. ‘But imagine that level of control. She can go and identify his body with the freshly washed clothes in her bag, right under our noses.’ She sighed. Eased herself into her chair. She recalled the terrible cries on the videotape. The terror. ‘What must it do to you? In your head, in your heart, living like that?’ She broke off trying to take it all in. ‘I can’t… What she went through… horrific. No one should have to live like that. But… you can’t go round killing people. At the end of the day she was clever,’ she reflected, ‘clever enough to buy a man’s shirt for her husband an hour after she’d killed him.’

‘Not clever enough to walk away.’

Janine stretched. ‘Up to the jury now. With luck they’ll find mitigating circumstances.’