Ken McClure - Eye of the raven

Steven nodded. ‘I guess not.’

‘ Lotty became a virtual recluse after the trial. If she put a foot over the doorstep she was hounded by reporters who wanted to know how she felt. God, what do these people have instead of a brain? How did they imagine she felt?’ Grant shook his head. ‘They circled round her like preying animals, entirely without any vestige of human decency. “What does it feel like to be married to a rapist, Mrs Little?”… “What do you feel for Julie’s family, Mrs Little?”.. “What will you tell your children, Mrs Little?” It was a long time before she could be persuaded to go out again socially but eventually the hyenas moved on to new victims and she did. Then she met John Mission. He seemed a nice enough chap and seemed to care for Lotty — even when she told him about having been married to Little. I have to say we all liked him; even the girls took to him right away. When Lotty told us she was going to set up home with him it seemed like things were taking their natural course but Mission had a different agenda.’

Grant took a sip of tea before continuing. ‘He told Lotty that he was having trouble selling his property up north and persuaded her to buy a house down here for them, using her own money. Not only that, he persuaded her to put the property in his name so he could use it as collateral for a new loan from the bank. He said it would make it easier for him to move his business down here.’

Steven looked down at the floor and Grant said, ‘I know, I know, I can see what you’re thinking but he really did come across as a charming man and Lotty had fallen for him head over heels. Well, I’m sure you know what comes next. Lotty wouldn’t say at first but it gradually emerged that he was abusing her. Matters came to a head when she turned up on our doorstep one night with the girls in the car. Her eyes were blackened and her shoulder had been damn nearly dislocated. He’d thrown her and the girls out of the house — her own house.’

‘ It turned out there was nothing anyone could do. The house was in his name so it was legally his. The police told Lotty that it was a civil matter so they couldn’t become involved. All they could suggest was that she contact a battered women’s support group. Shortly afterwards Mission sold the house and rode off into the sunset leaving Lotty penniless.’

‘ I don’t know what to say,’ said Steven. ‘There are some people in this world who take your breath clean away.’

‘ I’m not a violent man Dr Dunbar but I would cheerfully have throttled that bastard with my bare hands and not have lost a wink of sleep over it. Lotty deserved better after what she’d been through.’

Steven nodded, feeling a little embarrassed at being an outsider listening to family confidences, but it was obvious that Grant was a decent man who cared very much for his daughter. ‘I’m very sorry,’ he said.

‘ It’s me who should be sorry,’ said Grant. ‘This is really none of your concern. Please excuse the ramblings of an old man.’

‘ I’m so sorry I had to upset your daughter by raking up the past,’ said Steven.

‘ You were only doing your job I’m sure,’ said Grant graciously. ‘I hope she was able to help you.’

‘ She was,’ said Steven, getting up to leave. ‘Please thank her for me. I hope I won’t have to bother her again.’

A cold wind had sprung up and was gusting in from the North Sea as Steven made his way back to the car park near the beach. It whipped the tops off the waves, sending clouds of spindrift up into the air. Nearer the shore a grey, threatening swell rose and fell around the barnacled support columns of the pier. The clouds were darkening and it looked like rain could not be far away. Steven pulled up his collar and made for the cafe he’d visited earlier.

‘ Not so nice now,’ said the cafe owner.

Steven agreed and asked for black coffee.

‘ Find the place you were looking for?’

‘ Yes, thanks.’

When nothing more was forthcoming, the owner busied himself behind the counter although Steven suspected that he might have been his only customer of the day.

He sat down by the window and looked out at the grey scene while behind him the owner noisily cleaned the components of the Italian coffee machine. He felt it had been worthwhile coming. It seemed almost certain that the utilities disk that Charlotte Little unwittingly had passed on to her husband had been the source of the pornographic material found on his computer. The fact that it had actually cured the problem on his machine meant that he had not been alerted to anything being amiss at the time.

The plan had been cleverly conceived but he couldn’t come up with a reason for Paul Verdi wanting to embarrass his secretary’s husband. Apart from that, it hadn’t been Verdi who had provided the sophisticated software, necessary for such a scam; it had been his unnamed friend, the ‘computer expert’. Could he or she also have been his contact within the forensic lab? Once again, his thinking hit the wall. As far as he knew, no one in Ronald Lee’s lab either knew or had any contact with David or Charlotte Little.

Steven walked back to his car and turned his mobile phone back on — he’d switched it off while talking to Charlotte Little. There were two messages on the Voicemail service. One was from Susan Givens saying that she had the new DNA fingerprint; he could pick it up at his convenience or she could mail it to him electronically. He should let her know. The other was from Peter McClintock asking that he call him back as soon as possible. Steven called.

‘ You’re not going to like this,’ said McClintock. ‘Santini got cold feet over the raid tomorrow. He decided to bring in Tracy Manson for questioning today instead.’

‘ But that will just alert Verdi to the fact that we know something about the source of the porn film!’ protested Steven.

‘ You know that: I know that, but apparently the great Santini couldn’t work it out,’ said McClintock.

‘ Shit for brains,’ murmured Steven. ‘Did you get anything from her?’

‘ You were right. It was her who featured in the stuff on Little’s computer. She didn’t deny it — seemed quite proud of it in fact, like she was some kind of film star. I guess everybody wants to be in show business these days. But we couldn’t get her to finger Verdi. She maintains that she had no idea who was behind the video business. She just did what she was told.’

‘ Believe her?’ asked Steven.

‘ She’s a smack-head. You can’t believe anything they say.’

Steven’s blood ran cold and he didn’t speak for a few moments as a nightmare was born inside his head. ‘A smack-head?’ he repeated slowly. ‘Tracy Manson’s a heroin addict?

‘ Oh Christ, I never thought,’ said McClintock, suddenly understanding Steven’s concern. ‘Look, I know what I just said but she did happen to tell me that she was registered and on a methadone programme so she’s not injecting and sharing needles.’

‘ Doesn’t mean to say she didn’t in the past,’ said Steven.

‘ No,’ agreed McClintock. ‘It doesn’t.’ There was an awkward pause before he said, ‘Better get yourself a blood test.’ Then he asked, ‘Where are you at the moment?’

‘ Norfolk.’ Steven felt as if he was now on autopilot but he went through the motions of telling McClintock what he’d learned. ‘You don’t suppose that utilities disk might still exist do you?’ he asked.

‘ Seems unlikely after all this time but I could ask around at Little’s old lab at the hospital,’ said McClintock.

‘ There’s one other thing,’ said Steven. ‘Could you run a DNA fingerprint check for me? I need to compare it with the ones taken from the males in Julie Summers’ village at the time of her murder. I’ll get it to you as quick as I can.’