Innocent Blood (24 page)

‘They did. Paul had threatened to run away before and did so once, although he only went to stay with family. According to Mrs Hill he’d had an argument with his father before he left for school on the 7
^th
and said he never wanted to see him again, that sort of thing. My superiors started to think there could be some truth in the rumour that was being circulated by his so-called friends, that Paul had “done a bunk”, as they put it. Sympathy for the lad had been wavering – he’d become unpopular at school and was known as a bit of an oddball. Once the press picked up on the gossip I’m afraid it was hard to keep an open mind.’

‘But you did.’

Nightingale could tell from the sadness on the superintendent’s face that he bitterly regretted the course the investigation had taken.

‘Paul was a victim, I am absolutely sure about that. He had a besotted, depressive, overprotective mother and an ineffectual father who resorted to bullying in an effort to control his son. Paul was headstrong, difficult, I’m sure. Probably quite confused about his sexuality as well and ashamed of the fact that he was small and had a delicate feminine beauty – he looked more like twelve than fourteen at the time he disappeared. I have no doubt that he was the victim, no doubt that his friends and family drove him further into Taylor’s embrace, and sadly no doubt at all that Taylor killed him.’

Quinlan finally turned and walked down the stairs.

Nightingale noted the stoop in his shoulders and then watched his back straighten as he walked out of the door.

She returned to the incident room and continued her painstaking research. Quinlan had thought Taylor a murderer but it was clear from the later case files that he’d been in a minority. Within a month police attention had turned to a nationwide search for the runaways. They were kept busy with reports of sightings as far apart as Edinburgh and St Ives.

It was past eight-thirty when she finally found the tape of the interview Quinlan had referred to, given by Paul’s friend Victor Ackers and misfiled with some papers at the bottom of an archive box. Nightingale heard it through, unaware of the sneer of distaste on her face.

Initial interview 9th September, 1982 by DI William Black, WPC Alison Major with Victor Ackers, age 14, in the presence of his mother, Mrs Janice Ackers, both reside at Flat 2b, Midland Court, Harlden, West Sussex. Time 7:30 p.m.

VA
: ‘My name is Victor Ackers and I’m a friend of Paul Hill, sort of. We used to be mates but I didn’t see as much of him, like, this summer.’

DIWB
: ‘Why not, Victor?’

VA
: ‘He sort of started getting airs, like he was better than we was. He had all this money and he’d show off with it. Like with his bike.’

DIWB
: ‘Do you know where the money came from? [Long pause.] Come on, Victor, you might as well tell me. We’re going to find out anyway.’

Mrs Ackers
: ‘Go on, Victor, tell him what I heard you saying to Neil this evening.’

VA
: ‘Well, he said he got it from doing odd jobs. “I work hard, not like you lot,” he used to say, but, like, we didn’t believe him. He’d have to work every hour to get money for that bike, and he had some to spare, like a roll of notes he kept hidden somewhere in a tin in his bedroom that he showed me last time I was there. I don’t know where he kept it – it was a big secret. He said it was impossible to find and I never had the chance.’

DIWB
: ‘And how did he earn that money?’

VA
: ‘He had…sort of…he was… [Long pause.] There was something going on between him and that bloke Bryan Taylor, you know, the odd job man. He, like, gives us all the creeps and we stay well away from him but Paul was always hanging out with him.’

DIWB
: ‘Go on.’

VA
: ‘Well, he’d…they’d…been seen together, y’know, doing…like stuff.’

DIWB
: ‘Did you see them yourself? [There was a long pause then Black’s neutral voice.] Victor has just shaken his head. So if you didn’t see them, who did?’

VA
: ‘Wobbly Wendy. Ow, Mum, that hurt! I mean Wendy Smart; she’s in year one and follows Paul everywhere. Like she hasn’t got friends of her own. She said she saw him and Bryan in the woods.’

DIWB
: ‘Which woods, Victor?’

VA
: ‘Wyndham Wood, I think. That’s where Paul always went, usually. Anyway she said she saw them…’ [Another silence]

DIWB
: ‘Go on, this is very important… Look, your mum won’t be embarrassed, will you, Mrs Ackers?’

MRSA
: ‘Course not. Get on with it, Victor. We haven’t got all day!’ [Victor Ackers leans over and whispers something to his mother. They appear to have an argument but eventually Mrs Ackers leaves at Victor’s request.]

VA
: ‘Sorry but I couldn’t, like, not with her here.’

DIWB
: ‘Would you like your father instead? It is your right.’

VA
: ‘No way! You’d have to find him first and it’s past opening time – he could be in any one of a dozen pubs by now.’

DIWB
: ‘Tell me what Wendy told you she saw.’

VA
: ‘She saw them, y’know, sort of touching each other like, y’know?’

DIWB
: ‘Did she see them in a sexual act?’

VA
: ‘What’s that mean?’

DIWB
: ‘Were they kissing, or touching each other in intimate areas?’

VA
: ‘I dunno. What she said was that they, y’know, had their clothes off and were doing stuff.’

DIWB
: ‘And she never described the “stuff” to you?’

VA
: ‘No. You’ll have to ask her.’

Nightingale had to stop. She felt somehow dirty just touching the tape. After some more water she listened to the rest but it contained little. No doubt Wendy had been called in to make a statement but that too wasn’t filed in order and probably lay in one of the other boxes.

Her neck was stiff and her fingers grey with dust. It was time to go home but she hated the idea of returning to her empty flat and was too aware of the scale of hurt that her anger-fuelled industry was keeping at bay. She searched through the other boxes and found the catalogue of missing evidence that had been taken from Taylor’s and Hill’s homes when the warrants were executed. The list noted that the search of Taylor’s house had taken place on 10
^th
September. A large quantity of pornography, photographic equipment and pictures, many of Paul, had been seized, together with some clothes, bedding and samples of all the fabric in his house. There was no reference to an address book or diary, or to the hoard of cash Taylor was rumoured to have kept at home out of sight of the Inland Revenue.

Material hadn’t been taken from Paul’s house, other than for samples to help the tracker dogs, until more than a week later. Superintendent Bacon, then SIO, had requested and received a warrant for a full search on the basis that Paul was in possession of the proceeds of crime – his rumoured roll of notes kept in an Ovaltine tin and flaunted in front of his friends.

She scanned the list quickly but there was no reference to Paul’s money either, only to an empty tin. It supported the theory that Paul had run away but Quinlan hadn’t been convinced and neither was Nightingale.

‘Suppose,’ she said out loud to the empty room, ‘that Taylor did kill Paul then did a disappearing act. His neighbours say that he didn’t return to his house on the 7
^th
or subsequently, so if he had the money with him the murder would have been pre-meditated. That’s unlikely though because he would have packed and taken the pornography from the house rather than leave it to be found by the police. Far more likely is that the death was an accident. If it was, then why did he have the money on him? That doesn’t make sense. What happened to Bryan’s money?’

She drained the last drops of water from the bottle and then sat upright as another thought hit her.

‘What happened to
Paul’s
money?’ she asked the empty room, frowning at its lack of answer. ‘He wouldn’t have taken it to school because he’d have to leave his bag in the changing room during class and it would be too risky.’

She tore off a clean sheet of paper and wrote on it:

She paused then added, reluctantly:

It happened, she knew it did, and looking at the options it was a plausible explanation. Had one of the officers on the case been bent? She had no idea. Even current gossip rarely reached her ears but she knew a man who’d know.

‘643726.’

‘Doris? I’m sorry to disturb you. It’s Louise Nightingale. Can I have a quick word with Bob, please? I won’t keep him long.’

She could hear Cooper’s wife calling for him, then the noise from a television grew louder as a door was opened before being cut off completely as it was shut.

‘Cooper.’

‘Bob, it’s me. I need your help but don’t worry, it’s only a quick question.’ She heard his sigh of relief then an intake of breath as she said. ‘In 1982, who in Harlden Division was bent? I know someone was but who was it?’

‘Bloody hell, Nightingale, you can’t expect me…’

‘I do, and if it’s not Louise it’s ma’am, remember that.’

‘Sorry…ma’am…’ Cooper sounded shocked. ‘I’m serious, though. I don’t go blabbing, never have.’

‘So he’s still alive then and it wasn’t Bacon.’

‘No, Bacon was straight as a die.’

‘Atkins…Quinlan…’

‘For heaven’s sake, you can’t say that!’

‘So if it wasn’t them, it must have been Inspector Black then; that figures.’

She waited for a denial that didn’t come.

‘It was Black, wasn’t it? Anyone else?’

‘Why is this relevant after all these years? Let sleeping dogs lie for God’s sake.’

‘No, I can’t do that, and not because I’m a vindictive, narrow-minded bitch either.’

‘I’d never say that about you.’

‘No, but others might.’ Again she paused for a comment and moved on quickly when he remained silent so that he wouldn’t think she’d expected one. ‘This matters because if Black took the cash from Paul Hill’s and/or Taylor’s homes and pocketed it, it means that Paul wasn’t planning to run away, was he?’

She could hear Cooper’s steady breathing as he worked through her logic.

‘No, I guess not.’

‘Only the empty tin was entered into evidence. To me that doesn’t make sense. Why would Paul remove the cash rather than leave it at home?’

‘To put in his pocket?’

‘There was too much according to witnesses. And he’d be stupid to take it to school where it might get stolen. According to his friends he showed it off only once during the holidays and was very secretive about it.’

‘If you’re right… I suppose this has got to come out, has it?’

‘It’s only my theory, Bob, and there’s no way of proving it after all this time but Quinlan will need to be told. We can try and keep the information tight. I’d like nothing better than to arrest Black but even I have to admit that that’s unlikely. Where is he by the way?’

‘He retired early and went to live in Spain.’

‘Naturally. Do you deny my theory?’

‘No, Louise, I don’t.’ Cooper sounded shamefaced.

‘Well, we’ll keep this conversation to ourselves for now. I’ll let you get back to your evening. See you Monday.’

He barely muttered a goodnight.

Nightingale replaced the receiver and prepared a handwritten memo for Quinlan. As an afterthought she took a copy for Fenwick as well. There was no way she was going to record her misgivings electronically given what she knew about information recovery from computers. She found envelopes that she addressed and marked ‘strictly private and confidential, addressee only’, before signing over the seal and putting Sellotape on top. Then she hand-delivered them, enjoying the stretch in her leg muscles and the easing of tension in her back as she climbed up and down the stairs.

When she returned to the incident room she stared blankly at the remaining unopened files before shaking herself into action. She re-filed a note of Victor’s interview in correct chronological order, put the files she’d read away neatly and then forced herself to open the next box. Most of its contents covered the interviewing of people who claimed to have seen Paul or Bryan or sometimes both. A few concerned break-ins that might have been perpetrated by the runaways. She skimmed them quickly as they were of little interest but one held her attention and she noted the name and address of the witness alongside a summary of their statement.

Work on the second batch of files went much faster and she was over halfway through when the door to the incident room was flung open. She glanced up, expecting someone from the night shift curious about the light and activity. Instead, in walked Fenwick. Had she not been so hurt, the look of dismayed surprise on his face would have been comical. As it was, it simply confirmed her mood.

‘What do you want?’

‘I’m trying to find Quinlan. He’s not answering his mobile and neither he nor his wife is at home.’

‘They’re at a concert. What’s happened?’ She was instantly alert and watched with growing disquiet as Fenwick’s face flushed with a rare show of discomfort.

‘The ACC’s blown up about something and roped me in when he couldn’t find the superintendent.’

It wasn’t a lie but she could tell it wasn’t exactly the truth either. He wasn’t telling her something important and the realisation added to her sense of aggrievement. She turned back to the files though in truth she could barely see them. Fenwick took a step towards her. She angled her head away so that he couldn’t see her face.