Michael Fowler - Heart of the Demon

“Please calm yourself down, he hasn’t found you. You’ve covered your tracks well. In fact if it weren’t for Social Services we would never have found you. And before you go complaining about them, it’s us who forced their hands because of a murder enquiry we’re involved in,” replied Hunter

“Steve’s killed someone,” she said so matter-of-fact. “That doesn’t surprise me. I always knew it was only a matter of time before he killed someone.” Margaret dropped heavily into the only armchair in the room, crossing one slender leg over the other.

“We don’t exactly know if he has killed anyone, but he is a suspect.”

“Who’s been murdered?”

“It’s actually two murders we’re investigating, both teenage girls, but they’re years apart. In fact fourteen years apart. Steve Paynton was in a relationship with the mother of one of them — a Carol Siddons. Carol disappeared all those years ago but we’ve only just discovered her body and as a result of our enquiries we tracked down her mum. She’s told us that at the time Carol disappeared Steve was living with her and was violent to both of them. Then yesterday we found out he was with you prior to being with this woman, and that you’d reported to Social Services that he’d also assaulted you on a number of occasions. That’s why we felt it necessary to speak with you.”

Margaret drew anxiously on the cigarette again. She blew out the smoke. “Assault is an understatement. He was a real evil bastard.” There were nervous inflections in her words.

Hunter could sense the tenseness shackling her and sought to dispel her fears by recounting Susan Siddons story and explaining the measures, which were being put in place to protect her from reprisals, now that she had given a statement against Steve Paynton.

“You don’t know what he’s like. I had to live with him for two years. I’ve been in constant fear since that night I ran away. He always said he would track me down and kill me if I ever told the police.”

“Things have changed in the last fifteen years,” Grace said reassuringly. “We’ve moved on with how we deal with victims, particularly of domestic violence. The magistrates also have a different approach as well when it comes to punishing offenders. If he’s not caught up with you after all these years, then he’s not going to do that now. We can protect you and will protect you, but we do need your help to put him away. Susan Siddons has already made a statement and if you also give us a statement about his abuse towards you, it’ll give us a real lever and will help us to get him remanded so we can investigate him properly over the murders of the two girls, without him interfering or hindering the enquiry.”

Margaret finished the cigarette she had been smoking and stubbed it out in an ashtray beside her. Then she took another and lit it. All this time she said nothing, just stared towards a photograph, which was on the wall above the fireplace. It was an arranged shot of herself flanked by two smiling elderly teenagers — a boy and a girl. Hunter guessed they were her children.

Waiting patiently for Margaret to say something, Hunter suddenly realised what the saying ‘the silence was deafening’ meant. He was mentally screaming for her to open up and talk about the battering Steve Paynton had exacted upon her.

She seesawed her gaze between Hunter and Grace. A tearful film glazed her eyes.

“Do you know,” she began “I’ve not been able to have a relationship with another man? Since that day I ran for it with both my kids I’ve not been able to trust another man. Do you know what that’s like?” She drew deeply on her cigarette.

Neither Grace nor Hunter responded.

In fact Hunter didn’t know how to respond. He’d always been in a loving relationship.

“I’ve never talked about this. I didn’t tell Social Services at the time, and I haven’t ever discussed this with Jamie or Samantha — they’re my two children. They’re twenty and twenty-three now, and I know they wouldn’t remember what went on all those years ago, but I’m just so afraid of the damage it would cause them if I brought it all up again. Some might accuse me of burying my head in the sand but that’s how I feel I’ve needed to handle it to get me through all those dark days.” A tear fell from the corner of one eye and trickled down the side of her nose. She dabbed at it with her hand.

“I can’t imagine for one minute how painful this is but don’t you feel now that we’re here that it’s time to get rid of your demons,” said Grace quietly.

“What’s really hard about all this, is that some would say I brought it all on myself. You see I knew Steve Paynton from my schooldays. I knew some of the tricks he’d got up to, and yes I also knew about his violence, but he was different around girls. A real charmer in fact. We bumped into each other several years later when I was going through a bad patch with my first marriage and he still had the same rugged good looks and the charm. We used to meet up in the pubs and my mates did try to warn me when we first went out together, but I thought they were just jealous because he was quite a good looking guy. I suppose a real ‘Jack the lad’ springs to mind. I’d already got Jamie and Samantha from my first marriage but it wasn’t working out. Their Dad spent his days at work and his nights at the pub and so I’d already left and moved back in with my parents. Steve was the first bloke after we split up to show me some attention and make me feel wanted, and I just fell head over heels for him. Anyway after we had been seeing each other for the best part of a year he persuaded me to take out my savings and rent a flat with him, and against my Mum and Dad’s wishes I did.” She paused and took another drag of her cigarette. “Sorry I’m going round the houses with this but I suppose I need you to understand why I ended up with the bastard.”

It was the first time Hunter detected real anger in her words.

“After about six months together he started hitting me,” she continued. “I kept getting on at him about getting a job. I was out working all day and he was frittering the money I earned down at the pub, so I kept nagging him. They were just slaps at first. But then he would come back from the pub pissed up and wanting sex, and because I said I was tired, he would thump me until I gave in.”

“He raped you,” interrupted Grace. “You didn’t give in.”

“It was easier to deal with it that way. The hidings weren’t as bad if I gave in to him and I wouldn’t have to cover up the bruises so much.” More tears ran down her cheeks and she stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette so that she could use the backs of both hands to wipe them away. “Look, what I’m going to tell you now I’ve never told anyone. Not anyone.” She gripped the sides of the armchair, digging her nails into the leather upholstery. “He also abused the children really badly. And the reason I’ve never told anyone this before is because, for a long time, I didn’t do anything about it when I should have done.”

“I can see this is hurting you Margaret, but trust us we won’t pass judgment on you. We just want enough to put Steve Paynton behind bars so he can’t hurt anyone else.” Grace said moving forward to hold her gaze with her own probing yet reassuring look.

For the next hour Margaret Brown told them of the terror with which Steve Paynton had held her and her two children over a nine-month time span. “He started by beating Jamie, who was eight at the time, with his belt when he wouldn’t eat some of the food Steve had cooked. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the food,” she explained, “but that Steve had burned it because he’d cooked it when he was in drink. At first, he forced Jamie to eat food coated with curry and chilli sauce, depriving him of his pop. And then when he lost control of his bowels Steve would rub the faeces into his face. Then he had began to deprive Jamie of food and would lock him in a cupboard under the stairs. He would keep him there for several days, hungry and thirsty, forced to lie in his own excrement.” She tried to hold back her own sobs when she revealed that she would lie awake listening to the cries of her little boy caged under the stairs.