Cath Staincliffe - Bleed Like Me

‘I don’t need-’

‘Maybe I do,’ Janet said. ‘Not exactly been a cakewalk for me, this last couple of days, my mum and all.’ Pulling a bit of a guilt trip.

Rachel opened her mouth. Janet expected her to refuse, but then something softened in her eyes and she gave a nod. ‘Sorry. Okay, you’re on.’

When Rachel walked into the briefing room, everyone applauded, Gill included. Rachel looked taken aback at first, as if it was a practical joke that couldn’t be trusted rather than a genuine and spontaneous response to her success. Then she relaxed and sketched a half-bow but held her hand up too, asking them to stop.

It struck Gill that Rachel’s success had been a solo number yet again. Through circumstance perhaps, rather than Rachel’s heading out alone with a mission in mind, but it was a familiar pattern. On the one hand, Gill valued her DC’s flair, her passion and tenacity, the drive that led her to be out on that canal before dawn. But on the other, she worried that results like this undermined her efforts to get Rachel to improve her teamwork skills.

‘Well done, Rachel,’ she said, as the clapping died down. ‘The press office want to see you after this.’

‘Poster girl!’ Kevin said.

‘No way,’ Rachel said quickly, then visibly flinched as she heard herself refusing to do something. Disrespecting Gill.

‘I think you’ll find that’s yes ma’am, three bags full, ma’am . Clear?’ Gill said crisply.

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Rachel was quick to answer, some colour in her face now.

‘Oh, and both Margaret Milne and Dennis Cottam want to thank you in person.’

Rachel closed her eyes. It didn’t look as though that idea appealed either.

‘Doesn’t have to be now,’ Gill said. ‘Let the dust settle, wait until the children are given the all clear. Right – we have a lot to get through. Forensics from the barge show Cottam’s fingerprints all over and on the pack of nappies and the Calpol from the filling station. Items we can link to him. Another few hours without fluids and the children would have died. CPS have read the triple murder case file and believe we have strong enough evidence to warrant charges, but we’ve not yet spoken to Mr Cottam about the murders so we have agreed to do that and see how he plays it. A confession would be nice.’

‘He’s not given us anything yet,’ Pete said.

‘True,’ Gill agreed, ‘but now we’ve found the boys and prevented their deaths he may feel he’s nothing left to lose. Lee?’

‘Yes,’ Lee said, ‘though he might refuse to cooperate if our success makes him angry.’

‘Timeline, forensics and crime scene reports all hang together,’ Gill said. She talked them through the evidence on the electronic whiteboard. ‘CCTV from Journeys Inn. Eleven forty our last sighting of Pamela and Michael. Eleven fifty-two – Pamela texts Lynn. No activity on anyone’s phone or computer after that. Three ten a.m.’ Gill indicated the time in the frame. ‘Last sighting of Owen Cottam on CCTV with a whisky bottle. CCTV then switched off. Blood spatter analysis and analysis of blood samples on the victims and at the crime scenes confirms the order of attack. Pamela, then Penny, last Michael. Knife with fingerprint evidence from Owen Cottam and blood from Michael also carries blood traces from the previous two victims. Microscopic traces recovered from Owen Cottam’s jeans and top link to Michael and to Penny. At six thirty a.m., Cottam was spoken to by Tessa returning the dog. Six forty-five car seen leaving by neighbour Grainger. Subsequent movements we know from the investigation into the missing children, though we still have some gaps. Updates on inquiries so far. The marriage? Either of them shagging around?’

‘Nothing,’ Andy said. ‘Not a whisper. Her phone, the computer, friends and acquaintances. They were squeaky clean.’

‘No evidence of domestic violence, no rumours either,’ said Mitch.

‘And the children?’ Gill said.

‘No concerns,’ said Lee. ‘Penny was thriving at school, health visitor never had any worries about the younger ones.’

‘Happy families,’ Gill said. ‘So our motive remains financial. Did Pamela know the situation?’

‘According to Lynn,’ Janet said, ‘she knew things were tight but that’s all.’

‘He kept spending,’ Pete pointed out. ‘He dealt with all their finances.’

‘Didn’t she have her own bank account?’ Rachel said, sounding horrified.

‘She did,’ Pete said, ‘but it was peanuts. Only thing going in was her child benefit and she used that to clear her credit card when she’d bought something. All the bills, the direct debits, are on his account. He’d several credit cards and taken out payday loans. He wasn’t profligate…’

Gill noticed Kevin blink, not familiar with the word.

‘… just living beyond his means.’

‘And he can hide the debts from her,’ Gill said, ‘until he gets word that the brewery are pulling the plug.’ She paused a moment. ‘How long before the murders was that?’

‘Nine days,’ Kevin said.

Nine days. Gill wondered at what point in that period his idea of a way out had come to Cottam. And how long till it had crystallized into a plan? Had he counted down to that Sunday night, choosing it for some reason known only to him, or had the decision been made on the day itself? Some comment of Pamela’s or a remark from one of the customers the spark that lit the fuse.

‘Okay,’ she said, ‘any loose ends, any callbacks you need to do, try and get them cleared. I’d like to hope we can press charges later today, and the more comprehensive our case file is the better.’

Gill concluded the briefing and asked Rachel to stay behind a moment. When they were alone she said, ‘I’ve persuaded Ben Cragg that your actions at the retail park were as a result of over-enthusiasm and, given that both of his officers are expected to return to work without any problems, he’s willing to accept that.’

Rachel dipped her chin in acknowledgement.

‘But you came close, Rachel. No one wants to work with you if you’re a liability. This lot tolerate you, just about, but word gets out you’re impulsive, thoughtless, that you’re a potential booby trap, and it could derail your career. You understand?’

‘Yes, boss.’

‘I’d rather not have this conversation again. Got it?’

‘Yes, boss.’

Why am I not convinced, Gill thought as Rachel left. Why am I really not convinced?

Janet faced Owen Cottam and took a steady breath in and out. He looked blank, absent, his unfocused gaze directed at the far wall over Janet’s shoulder.

‘Mr Cottam,’ she said, ‘I have some news for you.’

His eyes wandered to her, though his eyelids were low, wary.

‘I’m pleased to say that we have found Theo and Harry and they are safe and responding well to medical treatment.’

‘You’re lying!’ he burst out.

‘No. I don’t tell lies. That wouldn’t get us anywhere. I only tell you the truth and I would like you to tell me the truth.’

‘Where, then?’ he said, his voice agitated. ‘Where were they?’

‘In a canal barge on the Leeds & Liverpool canal near the lock at Betty Lane bridge.’

A spasm flickered across the lower part of his face as the hard fact of the matter hit home.

You would have let them starve, Janet thought, die from thirst and hypothermia rather than give us the location. Die like trapped animals, helpless. She waited until the moment’s antagonism she felt subsided, then said, ‘In our earlier interviews, I’ve been asking you about the boys, trying to establish where they were, but now I want to move on to talk to you about the murders of your wife, Pamela, your daughter Penny and your brother-in-law Michael at Journeys Inn on Monday the tenth of October. Do you understand, Mr Cottam?’