Peter Robinson - Friend of the Devil

“Could be,” said Winsome. “Maybe he got worried when she didn’t turn up at the Bar None. But why not use the Taylor’s Yard entrance? It’s nearer the Bar None.”

“Is there a back way from the Bar None to the Maze?” Banks asked.

“Yes, sir,” said Templeton. “A fire exit.”

“So he could have left that way,” said Banks. “And I suppose it’s possible that he knew about the market square CCTV, which is the setup that gets all the publicity, but not about that on Castle Road. He didn’t know he’d be seen coming out. Twenty minutes isn’t very long, but it’s probably long enough for what the killer did, and he seems in a bit of a hurry. This looks very promising. DC Wilson’s at the college working on that list of names. It could take some time to get through them all. Do you think you can get technical support to come up with a still image from the video? Enhanced?”

“I can always try,” said Winsome. “They’re already working on that car number plate, but no luck so far.”

“Ask them to do their best,” said Banks. “It’s another long shot, but it might save us time.” Banks leaned back in his chair and ran his hand across his closely cropped hair. “Okay,” he said, “let’s review what we’ve got so far.” He counted off on his fingers as he spoke. “Joseph Randall, who swears he was at home alone when Hayley was killed, but has no real alibi and also can’t account for the eleven minutes between finding the body and reporting it. Oh, and he also eyed up the victim in the Duck and Drake earlier on the evening she was killed. After making a fuss, he volunteered a DNA sample and signed the waiver. The lab’s working on it.

“Next we’ve got Jamie Murdoch, pub manager of the Fountain, who says he was fixing broken toilets during the time Hayley was raped and killed. He appears to have had no access to the murder scene, at least not without being spotted, and he doesn’t show up on CCTV until he leaves on his bike at half past two. Finally, one of Hayley’s friends is seen exiting the Maze by the Castle Road arcade at twelve-forty, but not seen going in. What had he been doing in there? How long had he been there? What was he hoping for? A quick grope in the ginnel?”

“Hayley’s stepmother said she didn’t have a steady boyfriend,” Winsome said, “but she did think Hayley was sexually experienced.”

Banks noticed Templeton give a little smile at Winsome’s discomfort in talking about sex in front of them.

“We probably won’t find out any more about that until we talk to the people she was with,” said Banks.

“There’s still the possibility that someone was lying in wait,” Templeton said. He glanced at Banks. “A serial killer just starting out. Someone who knew how to come and go in the Maze without being seen, which probably means he’s a local and knows the area.”

“We won’t forget that possibility, Kev,” said Banks. “But so far we’ve had no luck with the local sex offenders.” He turned back to Winsome. “What about the family? You talked to them.”

“Yes, sir. I can’t say I was very impressed by the father, but maybe it’s hard to be impressed by a bloke you find tied naked to a bed in a hotel room.”

“Oh, Winsome,” said Templeton. “You disappoint me. Don’t tell me it didn’t turn you on.”

“Shut up, Kev,” said Banks.

Winsome glared at Templeton. “There’s no way either of the parents could have done it,” she went on. “Donna McCarthy was watching a DVD with Caroline Dexter, and Geoff Daniels and Martina Redfern have a watertight alibi. I found the taxi driver who drove them back from the nightclub to the hotel around two-thirty, and even he remembers them.” She gave a nervous glance at Templeton, then looked back at Banks. “They were… you know… in the back of his taxi.”

Even Banks had to smile at that. Templeton laughed out loud.

“Okay,” said Banks. “So far our only suspects who don’t seem to have an alibi are Randall and the mysterious figure on the Castle Road CCTV, and he should be easy enough to track down.” Banks stood up. “Then there’s the Lyndgarth yobs to sort out. They were angry at Jamie Murdoch. They could have hung around the Maze hoping to get a crack at him and found Hayley instead.”

“The CCTV just shows them walking away,” said Templeton.

“They still need looking into. Which is what we ought to be doing now instead of sitting around here. Thanks for bringing me up-to-date. Now let’s get to work and see if we can close this one before the week’s out.”

A stunned silence followed Annie’s response to the revelation of Karen Drew’s real identity. Annie could hear other noises from the building — phone conversations, the clacking of a computer keyboard — mixed with the sounds of cars and birds from outside. She tried to digest what she’d just heard.

“You weren’t involved in that case, were you?” Julia Ford asked.

“Peripherally,” said Annie. “My boss was SIO.”

Julia Ford smiled. “Ah, yes, Detective Superintendent Banks. I remember him well. How is he?”

“He’s fine,” said Annie. “Actually, he’s a DCI. He was only acting super. I handled the Janet Taylor investigation.” Janet Taylor was the policewoman who had killed Lucy Payne’s husband, Terence, after he had murdered her partner with a machete and come at her with it. The law about reasonable force being what it was, she had been suspended and put under investigation, until she died in a drunk-driving accident. The whole affair still left a bitter taste in Annie’s mouth.

Julia Ford made a sympathetic grimace. “A tough one.”

“Yes. Look, do you think you could—”

“Explain? Yes. Of course. I’ll do my best.” She glanced at Ginger. “Are you aware of who Lucy Payne was, DC…?”

“Baker,” said Ginger. “And yes, I’m aware of who she was. She killed all those girls a few years ago. The newspapers called her the ‘Friend of the Devil.’”

“So very melodramatic,” said Julia Ford. “But what would you expect of the gutter press? As a matter of fact, Lucy Payne didn’t murder anyone. Her husband was the killer, the ‘devil’ in question.”

“And how convenient that he was dead, so he couldn’t tell his side of the story,” said Annie.

“Well, you’ve only got Janet Taylor to blame for that, haven’t you?”

“Janet did—”

“Look,” Julia Ford interrupted, “as you know, I defended Lucy, so I’m hardly going to say she was guilty, am I? The Crown reviewed the evidence at the preliminary hearing, such as it was, and threw the case out of court. She never even went to trial.”

“Wasn’t that something to do with the fact that she was in a wheelchair?” said Annie.

“The state of her health may have been a mitigating factor. HM prisons have very limited facilities for dealing with quadriplegics. But the fact remains that there wasn’t enough evidence against her to prove that she killed anyone.”

“Weren’t there some dodgy videos?” Ginger asked.

“Showing at the most sexual assault, at the least, consensual sex,” said Julia Ford. “The Crown knew they were on shaky ground with the videos, so they weren’t even admitted as evidence. As I said, the case collapsed before it went to trial. Not enough evidence. As is, sadly, so often the case.”

Annie ignored the barb. “The fact that one of the star prosecution witnesses, Maggie Forrest, had a nervous breakdown and was unable to testify might have helped, too,” she said.

“Possibly. But these things happen. Besides, even Maggie had no evidence to connect Lucy with any murders.”

“All right,” said Annie, raising her hand. “We’ll get nowhere now debating Lucy Payne’s role in the rape, torture and murder of those young girls.”