Jane Casey - Cruel Acts

Leo . ‘Are you in contact with Mr Stone?’

‘Not directly. We get messages from him.’

‘Written messages?’

‘No. His son Kelly is in touch with us. He passes on communications from Leo.’

‘What sort of communications?’ Derwent asked and Dr Grey glanced at him before she answered.

‘He’s very grateful to us for our campaigning on his behalf. I always say it’s in our interests as well. We want Sara’s real killer to be located and punished. He shows tremendous empathy to us in our difficulties. Kelly, too. He’s quite remarkable.’ Dr Grey took out a handkerchief and pressed it under her eyes. ‘They want us to get justice for Sara’s sake, not just because Leo is incarcerated. I can’t believe that after all this, you’re pursuing him again .’

‘What would you prefer us to do?’ Derwent asked.

‘Find the real killer, of course.’ She flung out a hand in irritation. ‘Your stupid colleagues wasted weeks bothering Tom and his friends, even though he wasn’t in the country when poor Sara disappeared. He couldn’t have been involved and we said so. But they didn’t listen. They were utterly determined to make him into a killer. They wanted to turn us against him but we didn’t listen, did we, Tom?’

‘No. And I was very grateful.’ Tom looked from me to Derwent and back again. ‘I’m not going to tell you how to do your job but I can save you a lot of time if you’re drawing up a list of suspects. I wasn’t involved.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Derwent’s voice carried the slightest overtone of I’ll-be-the-judge-of-that.

‘The fact is,’ Dr Grey said again, ‘your colleagues struck lucky when they found Sara’s body. They saw an opportunity to make Leo take responsibility for Sara’s death as well as the other girl’s. Far easier than looking for a second killer.’

‘But the two bodies were left in much the same way,’ I began.

‘A dead body is a dead body, especially if it’s left outside. There was nothing left of her. She was eaten , Detective. Animals took her flesh. Her face. Her hands. She was utterly decomposed. Have you read the pathologist’s report?’

‘I’ve spoken with the pathologist who is working on this case now.’ In the face of Dr Grey’s anger I felt like a badly prepared student. I should have read Dr Hanshaw’s report as well as talking to Dr Early.

‘They didn’t even find all her bones. The small ones disappear. They were missing twenty-three bones – vertebrae, toes, fingers. Bones that I made .’ She stopped, choking with emotion, the mother in her elbowing aside the rational scientist who believed in facts above all. ‘I blame them for not finding Sara’s killer. I don’t think the original investigation was adequate in any way. I do not believe that Leo was involved in the slightest, with either murder. I will not help you to lock him up again.’

‘That’s not our aim.’ I really hoped Derwent wouldn’t contradict me. ‘Our intention is to review the evidence and make sure the correct person is prosecuted for murder. If the evidence leads us towards Mr Stone, we’ll know that the original investigation was sound. If it leads us away from him, please believe me, we’ll follow the facts. We don’t want an innocent man to be behind bars. We want justice for your daughter too, and we’ll work as hard as we can to get it.’

‘I gather from DCI Whitlock that Sara’s possessions are here,’ Derwent slid into the quiet aftermath of a speech that I was both proud and embarrassed to have made. ‘Is it possible for us to look at them?’

‘I suppose so,’ Dr Grey said heavily.

‘I’ll show you.’ Tom Mitchell started towards the stairs that led up to an upper floor. He moved quickly, full of nervous energy. I caught a flash of gold from his left hand as I followed him: a wedding ring. ‘It’s all boxed up, I’m afraid. But the police went through everything. They couldn’t find anything in Sara’s life that would have made someone want to harm her.’

He led us into a room that should have been a bedroom but it had no furniture in it. Boxes piled on top of boxes filled the space instead. The room smelled musty and he pushed open the window.

‘She’d moved out, you see. There was nothing here. All her things were in our flat. I kept everything for a long time. I didn’t want to clear Sara out of my life, I suppose. But in the end I had to. She wasn’t coming back. Barbara – that’s Dr Grey – didn’t want to unpack it so it ended up here.’ He stood in the middle of the room and looked around, his posture somehow conveying bafflement and longstanding grief. ‘Not much, is there? Not for a whole life.’

I felt unexpectedly sorry for him, and angry with myself for my reverse snobbishness. Bad things could happen to wealthy, privileged men who wore Ralph Lauren cashmere jumpers and inherited signet rings, the crest softened and blurred by time. Life wasn’t easy for anyone who mourned, whether they were rich or poor.

‘What do you think happened to her?’ I asked, taking advantage of the fact that the door was closed.

‘She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.’ He rubbed his head with his left hand and winced. ‘I keep forgetting I’ve got a ring on this hand and end up battering myself.’

‘Recent addition?’ Derwent asked.

‘I got married a couple of months ago.’

‘Congratulations.’

‘I felt weird about it. The Greys said they understood, but—’ he broke off. ‘Oh, you know. It shouldn’t have been this way. It should have been Sara.’

‘Is that how you felt?’

‘A bit.’ He looked miserable. ‘A lot. I couldn’t stop thinking about her.’

‘What does your missus make of that?’ Derwent asked, and I was glad he had, because I was wondering the same thing.

‘She understands of course.’ He held himself stiffly, guarded now. ‘She was one of Sara’s best friends. It helps that she knew her so well. We talk about Sara a lot. She misses her too.’

‘I’m sure she does,’ I said.

‘Vanessa was supposed to be our bridesmaid.’ Tom sighed. ‘I’m lucky to have her.’

We got back into the car after a long and thoroughly unhelpful search through Sara Grey’s possessions – the clothes, the photographs, the school reports and letters, and books she had loved. The Greys had sent us on our way without warmth, just as angry as they had been when we arrived, despite my best efforts.

Derwent drove out through the gate with a sigh of relief.

‘They really don’t want Leo to be guilty, do they?’

‘Nope.’

‘They must see something in him that I don’t.’

‘The son has obviously worked hard on them. Plus the original investigation burned through any goodwill there might have been towards us by focusing on Tom.’ I shook my head. ‘Maybe it’s just that they don’t feel any better for having Leo locked up. It hasn’t brought their daughter back. If he’s the wrong man, they can keep looking for justice.’

Derwent nodded. ‘So how long would you give Tom Mitchell’s new marriage?’

‘Months.’

‘Weeks, I’d say.’

‘Days.’

‘It’s over already.’

‘It never started,’ I said soberly. ‘He’s not over Sara yet. Maybe he’ll never get over her.’

‘Poor bloke,’ Derwent said, as if he meant it.

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