Diane, well understand if you say youve moved on and you dont want to testify. But there are things we can do. A victim can agree to interview without any commitment to give evidence.
Dont keep calling me the victim.
Tm sorry, Im sorry. Look, you might not be sure about this until you re-read your own statement. Thats often what we find. A woman has tried to forget the incident, put the trauma behind her of course. But then she goes back and reads the statement she made at the time, and she changes her mind. She agrees to go ahead and give evidence in court.
Fry remembered Branaghs face had been impassive during the conversation. For once, she wasnt weighing in to put pressure on. And she recalled thinking there must be a reason for that. Everything Branagh did had a reason.
Fry had wiped her palms on the edge of her jacket, then tried to disguise the gesture. It was too much of a giveaway.
Blake had leaned forward earnestly.
In court, you can have a screen, if you want. So that the accused cant see you and you cant see him. We often take victims into court to show them where theyll give evidence from, and where everyone sits. We might not need to do that for you, obviously. But you understand what Im saying? We bend over backwards to make it easier.
Easier?
Less difficult, then.
She ought to be better prepared than the average victim. At least she knew the jargon. Like every other area of policing, the investigation of rape was littered with impenetrable acronyms. Victims were dealt with by an STO and an ISVA. A specially trained officer and an independent sexual violence advisor. A case file would contain a ROTI, a record of taped interview, in preparation for the EAH, an Early Administrative Hearing. For a member of the general public, the terminology could be baffling.
The first stage of the actual court process would be a committal hearing at a magistrates court. She would not have to attend that, as her statement would be enough. The case could then proceed to crown court, where the second stage would be the trial, with a judge and a jury, a prosecution barrister to go through her evidence, another for the defence to challenge what she said.
If her attacker was found guilty or pleaded guilty, the judge would be given an impact statement before sentence, to explain how the attack had affected her life. Nothing was held back.
In every case Ive dealt with since joining the cold case unit, victims have been delighted to be approached. They say that a conviction brings closure, often after many years of torment.
But you do need consent to go ahead.
And Blake had hesitated.
In almost one hundred per cent of cases.
Well, the treatment of rape had changed in the last couple of decades. The West Midlands had a dedicated facility, the Rowan Centre, where victims could pass on information without giving a name or address, or worrying about making a statement. That option had never been available to her.
Throughout this process, she must keep reminding herself one thing. She wasnt part of the investigating team for this enquiry. On the contrary, she was the IP, the Injured Party. That was how she would be referred to in the official police documents. She was the IP.
When she left the hotel, Fry heard music coming from the direction of The Waters Edge. She bought herself a sandwich in Baguette du Monde near the multi-storey car park, and idly studied the programme for the Crescent Theatre while she ate it. Something is rotten in an upper-crust Danish family gathered to celebrate the 60th birthday of their wealthy patriarch. The occasion descends into nightmare when the eldest son accuses his father of sexual abuse. That would be a comedy, then. She might give it a miss.
The Waters Edge was busy with people. The development had formed a complex of bridges where three canals met, connecting Brindleyplace to the ICC and NIA. Narrowboats were moored to the towpath, one of them converted into a cafe. The music shed heard turned out to be a jive group on the bandstand, playing to customers eating outside at the restaurants. Their sign said Jive Romeros.
It was funny how canals had become a decorative feature. They had been such a part of the industrial revolution, yet they were surviving the wholesale demolition of the factories theyd once served. They were like all those Victorian pubs, preserved in the middle of modern office developments and retail parks.
She could see some of the city centres glass towers from here. Most prominent among them was the Beetham Tower on Holloway Circus. The huge glass panels in its upper levels made the building look as if its walls had been blown away in a bomb blast, exposing the hidden lives of the people behind them.
A full-scale crown court trial would mean expensive defence barristers being shipped into the city. Would they take accommodation at Brindleyplace? No, she guessed not. They would stay at the Radisson SAS in the Beetham Tower, and drink downstairs at the Filini Bar.
Around the corner from 3 Brindleyplace, Fry could see the entrance to the National Sea Life Centre, a fan-shaped building backing on to the canal. It boasted a transparent walk-through underwater tunnel, yet it was about as far from the sea as you could get in the UK.
She thought of all the people shed dealt with as a police officer over the years. All the victims, all the families. And all the children, of course. Particularly the children. There were some victims shed let down, when she ought to have been able to help them. Everyone said you shouldnt allow any of that to get to you, that you should just let it go and move on to the next case, to another victim looking for justice, needing your help. But sometimes it wasnt so easy.
And she thought of all the times shed observed the behaviour of victims and felt a lack of sympathy at their weakness, their hesitation when faced with a decision. All the times shed wanted to tell them that it wasnt as bad as all that.
And she thought of all the times shed observed the behaviour of victims and felt a lack of sympathy at their weakness, their hesitation when faced with a decision. All the times shed wanted to tell them that it wasnt as bad as all that.
Fry had so often seen people going into court to confront their past. The worst part of the process was waiting in the witness room, and the long walk down the corridor to take the stand. Shed watched people taking that walk. It might only be a few yards, but when you were going to face your own demons, it could seem like a million lonely miles.
So what do you say, Diane?
I need time.
Of course. All the time you want.
For herself, Fry knew that the long walk down that corridor would be the most difficult thing shed ever done in her life.
Cooper stopped a few miles out of Ashbourne and pulled off the A515 into a car park serving the Tissington Trail, close to the village of Alsop. Dovedale was just over the hill to the west the Milldale end of the valley, up past the boardwalks beyond Reynards Cave and the weirs under Ravens Tor.
He couldnt put off reading the witness statements any longer. And he was afraid of being distracted when he got back to the office, too caught up in other things, all those unavoidable demands on his time.
Ideally, the statements ought to be read on the ground, in Dovedale itself, so he could picture where the witnesses were standing. But it would take too long right now to battle his way in and out of the dale against the traffic, and mingle with the crowds. That would have to wait for another time.
The statements were all pretty brief. The one thing that became clear was that no one had seen everything. Some witnesses recalled seeing the dog go into the river, but not the girl. Others had seen Emily and her brother playing on the bank, throwing sticks for Buster. Then theyd looked away, absorbed in their own concerns, until all the shouting began.
A few members of the public stated that they had actually seen Emily run into the water, then fall and bang her head on a rock. He could see why Sergeant Wragg felt the results of the interviews were conclusive.
But Cooper was bothered by the wording of these statements. Yes, I saw the little girl fall and bang her head. She was knocked over by the dog. The rock struck her on the side of the head. She couldnt catch the dog. I saw her slip and float downstream towards the rocks. One lady believed there had been a whole crowd of children and dogs in the water, too many for her to be able to distinguish one little girl in a green summer dress. Meanwhile, her friend had seen the girl distinctly, but swore the dress was blue.
All of these people had been within a few hundreds yards of the incident. Strange that none of them had noticed the childs parents. How odd that none of them had seen what Cooper saw the man standing on the bank, his hands raised, fingers dripping water. Robert Nield was a striking enough figure at any time. Youd think he would have been observed by at least one of these eyewitnesses.
But perhaps some of them had seen him. Possibly, they had just never been asked.
Murfin was waiting impatiently in the CID room, looking anxiously over his shoulder as if he expected the Spanish Inquisition at any moment.
Its all right, Gavin, chill out.
Ive had Luke Irvine out on the Devonshire Estate, said Murfin, to see if he can sniff out anything more about Michael Lowndes.
Thats great, Gavin.
Im glad you appreciate it. If the information checks out, we should be able to have another go at putting surveillance on him this week.
And what about the sex offenders?
Murfin sighed. ViSOR print-outs are on your desk.
Murfin was chewing as usual, but he was managing to do it with an air of dissatisfaction. He had that sort of face, one that had sagged enough with age and misuse to enable him to carry off two expressions at once. His eyes looked merely quizzical, but his jowls were resentful.
Cooper flicked through the file, not reading the details at first, but looking at the photographs. The Police National Computer was linked to the database for ViSOR, the Violent and Sex Offender Register. Print-outs from the database gave him name and address records, photographs, risk assessments, and offenders modus operandi. Sex offenders on the register were obliged to confirm their registration annually, failure being subject to a penalty of up to five years imprisonment.