Tim Vicary: A Game of Proof

‘But don’t you understand what it means?’ The two young mothers turned at the excitement in her voice, but Sarah didn’t care. ‘He could have raped Jasmine after all, and it wouldn’t have left any semen. That would account for the bruising!’

The young mothers were rapt now, dawdling deliberately to hear what came next.

Terry smiled. ‘So not only is your son not a murderer, he’s not a rapist either.’

‘No.’ As Sarah shook her head, the emotion finally began to hit home. She felt dizzy, and Terry grasped her shoulders to steady her. ‘Just a great, lumbering, clumsy ignorant fool. Even last night when he was acquitted, I couldn’t quite forgive him those bruises. Oh, Terry, you’ve made my day.’

‘Glad to be of service.’ He scowled at the rubber-necking mothers until they moved reluctantly away. ‘Anyway, that’s why Sean killed Maria and raped Sharon, as far as I can make out. They were both prostitutes and he’d hoped they might solve his problem, and when they didn’t, he turned nasty and came back with revenge in mind instead. In Sharon’s case, my guess is he probably did meet Gary that night. Gary told him how he’d quarrelled with Sharon over his watch, and Sean thought he’d get his mate’s watch back and take his revenge at the same time.’

‘But … why were the watch and hood found in Simon’s shed?’

Terry shrugged. ‘Well, I’m guessing, but we know both Gary and Sean used that shed for stolen goods. And it was just round the corner. Perhaps he changed his clothes there, so no one could trace them to him. And he left the watch because he knew Gary would come back there some time and find it, and start to think … which isn’t Gary’s strong point, as you know. Perhaps the idea of Gary gawping at this watch in the shed amused him.’

‘Until I turned up to distract him.’ Sarah shuddered, remembering. ‘In his alibi, Gary said Sean went off with a prostitute, didn’t he?’

‘Yes, I know. I should have taken that more seriously. But at the time …’ Terry shook his head. ‘Perhaps Sean did go with one, and things went wrong as they always did, which would have enraged him even more. So he decided to revenge himself on Sharon.’

‘Poor woman.’ Sarah sighed, remembering the sense of triumph she had felt after cross-examining Sharon in the witness box. And yet she had been right, after all — Sharon hadn’t been able to identify her rapist, had she? Not that it seemed like much of a triumph, now. ‘So what about Jasmine? How did this Sean get involved with her?’

‘Well, according to Gary, he’d been to Simon’s house a few times — they both had, hiding stolen goods. So he must have met her there. Something about her must have attracted him.’

‘Everything, probably, poor girl,’ Sarah murmured sadly. ‘After all, she looked like a film star, and she loved leading men on. But why didn’t Simon notice? Or Gary, or anyone?’

‘If you’d met him you’d see why,’ said Terry, thinking of cold, distant eyes that had faced him across the interview table earlier this morning. ‘He gives nothing away, this lad. That’s why he’s survived so long. I doubt if he talks about women with anyone at all.’

‘Just stalks them on his own, you mean?’ Sarah shuddered, remembering the first photo of Jasmine Terry had shown her — the one taken days, weeks perhaps before her death, a young healthy girl running alone on the river path, unaware of the hidden maniac watching with his stolen camera. ‘That would explain what she said to Mandy Kite.’

‘Who?’

‘A witness I wasn’t allowed to use — one of the eco-warriors. Jasmine had told her she often felt she was being followed. The prosecution thought it was Simon and I suggested it was David Brodie, God forgive me! Bob was right, it wasn’t him … but what could I do?’

She stared away from him across the river, embarrassed by sudden tears. He hovered, wanting to put a comforting arm round her shoulders but uncertain how it would be received.

As always with Sarah, the tears were short-lived. She turned, brushing them away with her hand. ‘And so he stalked her for a while, and then he followed her that night when she and Simon had their quarrel …’

‘Probably.’

‘… and then he jumped out at her somewhere and thought that since she was two-timing both her boyfriends she wouldn’t mind doing it with him as well. That’s the way these perverts think, isn’t it? Then when she refused, he pulled out his knife and — Jesus, Terry!’

She stopped, took hold of his arm. ‘Let’s not go any further, if you don’t mind. You realise where we are, don’t you?’

He looked, and saw what she meant. They were less than half a mile from where Jasmine’s body had been found. They turned back towards the city.

‘Of course this is all speculation. The only confession he’s made so far is to Sharon.’

‘Which you’ll have the devil of a job getting admitted in court. I couldn’t.’

‘There’s lawyers for you.’ Terry said, regretting it instantly. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean …’

‘Yes you did.’ She walked on, looking down moodily. ‘Everyone hates us, except when we’re needed.’

He changed the subject. ‘How’s Simon taking it? Surely he must be grateful.’

‘Oh yes.’ She offered a wry smile. ‘But to you , as much as to me. I’m surprised he hasn’t been round to thank you. You’re his hero, right now.’

‘I’ll look forward to it. And Bob? He must be pleased?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Sarah sighed. ‘His problem is that not only did he shop Simon in the first place, he also believed in his guilt. Which makes things rather difficult in his relationship with Simon, you see. And in his relationship with me.’

Terry searched for an answer. ‘You’ll get over it. In time.’

‘Will we, Terry?’ She looked up at him. ‘I wonder.’

They walked on for a while in silence. As they reached the car park, she turned and took both of his hands in hers. Over her shoulder he could see the Norman castle on its mound, and in front of it the elegant eighteenth century law courts where so much was decided. For better or worse. She pressed his hand gently, and smiled.

‘Anyway, we got something right in the end, between us, didn’t we?’

She reached up, kissed him gently on the cheek, and was gone.