Стивен Бут: Dead in the Dark

A week later Derbyshire Constabulary launched a high-profile public appeal for information. They even issued a statement saying they believed Annette might have been the victim of a criminal act, though the basis for that claim so early in the investigation was unclear to Cooper.

Statements were issued by Annette Bower’s family saying that her disappearance was completely out of character. Was that enough to suspect a crime? Within a few days, the police announced that they were treating the inquiry as a murder investigation.

Searches had already begun on the Monsal Trail and in the nearby industrial estate. Now the garden of the Bowers’ house was dug up. Police said they were anxious to trace the movements of a red Nissan seen being driven by a man near the scene of Annette Bower’s disappearance.

Despite the lack of direct forensic evidence, police believed Reece Bower had killed his wife and hidden her body. In the middle of November, Bower was detained in connection with the disappearance and processed through the custody suite here at Edendale.

Cooper had seen people who hated being shut up in a cell or an interview room so much that they’d do anything to get out, including making a false confession. The fact that it might mean them ending up in prison didn’t come into the equation. It was that need to escape from the immediate situation that blocked out long-term thinking, or any consideration of the consequences.

Reece Bower hadn’t been one of those people. His time in the custody suite had been extended to ninety-six hours before he was charged. The hope had been that he would give away important information under questioning, or that some evidence would lead to the discovery of his wife’s body. Neither of those things had happened.

At the end of the extended detention period, Bower was charged with murder. All the case files had been prepared, and a trial date had been set for the following year, when new evidence came to light.

‘Oh, Reece Bower,’ said Murfin when he appeared. ‘Has that thing surfaced again after all this time?’

Cooper wasn’t sure whether he was referring to the case as ‘that thing’ or to Reece Bower himself.

‘It looks like it,’ said Cooper. ‘Bower himself is missing.’

‘Well, that’s nothing to cry about.’

‘You were on the inquiry team, weren’t you, Gavin?’

Murfin nodded. ‘I was working with DI Hitchens’ team under DS Osborne. Those were the days. Bill Osborne was quite a lad. I remember once—’

‘Yes, Gavin, thanks. I think you’ve probably told us all the stories from the old days.’

‘Oh. Well, they’re all gone, except for me. Bill went on extended sick leave, then retired on health grounds. He’s living in the Channel Islands now. DI Hitchens went off to Ripley, didn’t he?’

‘Yes, to work for RIPA.’

‘Well, that’s it, then. The whole team has gone. Except for me, and I’m only half here, so to speak.’

‘You always were, Gavin.’

‘True. But at least I was building up my pension fund.’

‘Did you meet Reece Bower?’

‘I certainly did.’

‘And I take it you didn’t like him.’

‘I don’t think anyone on the team did. He was a creep. No one was in any doubt that he was guilty. As far I’m concerned, it was written all over him. Right across his forehead.’ Murfin made a scribbling gesture above his eyes. ‘ Guilty , it said. Spelled properly with a “u” and everything, so it was official.’

Villiers had brought a file containing Reece Bower’s details. She unclipped a photograph and slid it across Cooper’s desk.

‘That’s the bugger,’ said Murfin, twisting his head to peer at the photo. ‘You can see what I mean from here.’

Cooper had to admit that the smile on Bower’s face looked insincere. It was an expression he’d seen often on people who were guilty, a fake attempt at ingratiating sincerity. But everyone was guilty of something, weren’t they? It didn’t have to be a crime as serious as murder to make you look shifty and evasive.

Bower was in his early thirties in this photograph. It dated from the time of the earlier case and had been taken in the custody suite downstairs. Detention officers weren’t known for their expertise as photographers. They could make any suspect look like one of the Kray Brothers. Even the women.

And it was also quite rare to see someone smiling for the camera as they were processed. Would he still have been smiling after fingerprints had been taken, and a mouth swab for DNA, and a blood sample, and finally the slamming of a cell door?

Cooper was reminded of a famous mugshot of the Hollywood actor Steve McQueen after he was arrested for drunk driving, smirking at the police photographer and giving a victory sign, as if knowing that he would never face the full penalty of the law.

‘Is there a photograph of his wife too?’ he asked.

‘Sure.’

Villiers slipped another photograph on to his desk. Annette Bower looked two or three years younger than her husband. Cooper wouldn’t have put her much above thirty. She had auburn hair, unfashionably long for the time. In the photo she was facing the camera, smiling, with an open, friendly expression that appealed to him straightaway. He could see how anyone might have fallen for this woman, as presumably Reece had.

Cooper felt a cold certainty grip his heart. This woman was almost definitely dead. And no one had found her, or brought her justice. That seemed so wrong that he knew he had to do something about it, if he could. The idea of her lying somewhere, undiscovered, her body turned to bones and eventually to dust... well, it didn’t bear thinking about.

‘Reece Bower is currently a logistics manager for a steel fabrications company in Chesterfield,’ said Villiers. ‘Ten years ago he was working in procurement at Chesterfield Royal Hospital, near Calow. His job was negotiating with suppliers. At that time, Mr Bower was accountable for more than five million pounds of expenditure on clinical supplies each year.’

‘A responsible job. I suppose he lost it when he was arrested.’

‘Well, a murder charge doesn’t do much for your reputation,’ said Murfin.

‘And it was a thorough investigation.’

‘Oh yes. The inquiry team combed through his entire life. They traced his movements, his relationships, his finances. They searched his house and dug up his garden. There was strong circumstantial evidence that made him look guilty. But the Crown Prosecution Service decided not to take it to court. They said the case against him wasn’t strong enough to achieve a conviction.’

‘Why not?’ asked Villiers.

‘Well, they never found Annette Bower’s body, for a start.’

‘It’s possible to get a murder conviction without a body,’ said Villiers, ‘if the rest of the evidence is compelling enough. It has been done.’

‘I know. And it almost went that way. Except...’

‘What?’

‘The inquiry suffered a serious setback,’ said Cooper. ‘Didn’t it, Gavin?’

Murfin nodded.

‘A witness turned up while the case was being prepared for court. He claimed to have seen the victim alive and well, days after she was supposed to have been killed. The statement this witness gave was pretty sound. It undermined the whole case. Reece Bower had maintained his innocence from the start and offered plausible alternative explanations for each item of forensic evidence. Without any proof that his wife was actually dead, there was just too much scope for reasonable doubt.’

Reasonable doubt. Cooper nodded. The great dread of prosecutors and police officers in a jury trial. It was always impressed on jury members that they had to bring a ‘not guilty’ verdict if they felt there was reasonable doubt.