I dragged her to the bottom of the bridge arch and pushed her against the side of it. I stared into her eyes, hard. They were green and beautiful. She was terrified. The art I imagined was becoming reality. I decided she wouldnt give me any trouble. I spoke gently.
If you make a sound or fight or try and run, I will hurt you. Do you understand? I was calm.
She frantically nodded her head. Then she squeaked out a few pathetic words. Please. Dont rape me. Please. Ive just had an operation. Please. I wont tell anyone. Please.
I wont hurt you, I promised. I need you to stand there quietly for a few seconds. I could hear the train lines begin to whistle and knew a fast train was approaching. I peeked around the corner and saw the train flying toward me. Id timed this already. Once it passed the hut on the siding, I had five seconds before it hurtled past me.
I gripped the girl by her right arm with both my hands. Five. Four. Three. Two-and I swung her out from behind the bridge arch.
It was as if she jogged out onto the line. She even managed to avoid tripping over the first rail. She made it all the way between the tracks.
The train that hit her must have looked huge. I saw her stiffen just before it wiped her from the face of the planet. I wonder what she thought, if anything.
I didnt wait to see where her body landed. I quickly turned and ran up the railway bank. I was well protected from anyone looking out of the train window. Id had my fun, but ultimately the poetry was lacking. The violence was too mechanical. I hadnt been able to see her eyes or hear her last breath as the train ripped the life from her. The work lacked feeling. No texture. No color. I would do better next time.
I wonder where the train was going.
As I drove away, I could hear the first sirens approaching. A few days later there was a sad little article in the Evening Standard about a girl whod had an abortion then killed herself by jumping in front of a train. Apparently all parties had decided she couldnt live with the guilt. The shame. She still had a receipt for the abortion in her pocket. The last line of the article read, Police are not looking for anyone else in connection with her death.
CHAPTER 8
Saturday
Sean was in his car, on his way to the station, when his phone rang. The display showed no number. It made him cautious. He answered without giving his name. Hello?
I need to speak with Detective Inspector Sean Corrigan. He recognized the voice. It was Hellier.
This is DI Corrigan.
Well do it your way, Inspector. Ill meet you today. Ill be at the Belgravia police station at two P.M. I expect absolute discretion. Hellier hung up.
Fine, Sean thought. Pick any station you like, but come tomorrow Ill have a set of your fingerprints, your DNA, and your statement. Once I have them, its only a matter of time before the web of lies begins to disintegrate.
Sean and Donnelly sat in their Mondeo in Ebury Bridge Road, Belgravia. They had a good view of the front of the police station, but were far enough away not to be seen. Sean wanted to watch Hellier as he approached, wanted to see how he looked ahead of their meeting.
At 1:40 Sean and Donnelly saw Hellier striding along Buckingham Palace Road. He fit the affluent area perfectly. Sean focused the lens of the camera on Helliers face and pressed the button. A little present for the surveillance boys, he told Donnelly.
Whens that starting, by the way?
As soon as Featherstone authorizes it. I put in a request first thing this morning.
Rather him than me, Donnelly said, thinking of the reams of paperwork Detective Superintendent Featherstone would have to complete before surveillance could begin.
Hellier looked confident. He was with another man who carried a briefcase.
I fucking knew hed bring his lawyer, said Sean.
Thatll be one expensive mouthpiece, Donnelly replied as they watched Hellier and his solicitor enter the station.
Well give it a few minutes, Sean said. Let them get a bit pissed off. Then well go see them. See if we cant rattle his cage.
Aye, Donnelly agreed.
Any luck with criminal records?
No. Nothing on criminal records or the intelligence system. He appears clean.
I find that hard to believe.
Maybe hes had an identity change, Donnelly suggested.
Wouldnt surprise me. A set of his prints will soon answer that.
Shall we dance?
Why not? They climbed from their car and headed after Hellier.
Sean and Donnelly sat across the table from Hellier and his solicitor, Jonathon Templeman, in the witness interview room.
Templeman spoke first. Inspector, my client has a right to know why he has been asked to come here today.
Sean smiled. You make it sound as if Mr. Hellier is a suspect.
It feels as if hes being treated like one. Asked to come to a police station. Of course my client wishes to cooperate, but his rights must be respected. If he is a suspect, then he needs to be informed.
Mr. Hellier is not a suspect, Sean told him. Thats why were in the witness room, not an interview room. If Mr. Hellier was a suspect, hed have been arrested by now.
Sean knew the solicitor didnt believe a word he was saying. He would have realized the police suspected his client was involved in the murder of Daniel Graydon and he would do all he could to protect Hellier, but he wouldnt want to force Seans hand. Wouldnt want to precipitate Helliers arrest.
I dont know how much your client has told you, Mr. . , Sean said, looking at the business card the solicitor had handed him, . . Mr. Templeman, but from my initial conversation with Mr. Hellier I know he had sexual relations with a young man who was found murdered some days later.
My clients sexual orientation is not an issue here, Templeman intervened. Its no longer illegal to be gay, Inspector. He was being deliberately provocative. He knew the best way to defend a client, whether they were guilty or not, was to be aggressive toward the investigating officers. Show no signs of cooperation. Never be civil. Always attack.
My clients sexual orientation is not an issue here, Templeman intervened. Its no longer illegal to be gay, Inspector. He was being deliberately provocative. He knew the best way to defend a client, whether they were guilty or not, was to be aggressive toward the investigating officers. Show no signs of cooperation. Never be civil. Always attack.
Mr. Templeman, Sean said, I have no interest in Mr. Helliers sexuality. What I do care about is that a young man has been murdered. Mr. Hellier is an important witness. Possibly the best I have. I need a full witness statement and full forensic samples for elimination purposes. And his fingerprints.
A witness statement is out of the question, Templeman said, still speaking for Hellier. The body samples we agree to. We understand the need to eliminate my client from the investigation as quickly as possible.
Donnelly joined in. This isnt a shoplifting were investigating. This is a murder inquiry. Mr. Hellier will give a full written statement and hell do it today. His voice was calm.
My client has not witnessed any offenses in relation to the death of Mr. Graydon. He can provide no useful information, therefore he will not be providing a witness statement. Such a statement would be of no use to the police, yet it could be both embarrassing and damaging to my client.
Embarrassing? Donnelly said. I dont care how embarrassing it could be. Maybe you would like to meet the boys parents. You could explain to them how your client is more concerned about being embarrassed than he is about helping to find their sons killer.
No statement.
Sean knew Templeman meant it. Ill have Mr. Hellier summonsed to court to give evidence if necessary.
Then thats what youll have to do, Inspector.
Fine, Sean said. There was more than one way to skin a cat, but why wouldnt Hellier make a statement? Sean didnt believe the bullshit about public embarrassment. Hellier didnt want to say anything the police could prove was a lie. Best to keep his mouth shut. Hide behind his expensive solicitor.
So, no statement, Sean said. Samples, you agree to? He was looking directly at Hellier, who remained dumb.
Ive already said we agree to body samples, Templeman informed him.
And fingerprints. For elimination purposes. Sean waited for the answer, hoping he sounded casual enough.
Why do you need my clients fingerprints? Templeman asked. I thought Mr. Hellier had made it quite clear that hed never been in the victims flat. Unless you found prints on the body, which is most unlikely, I dont see why you would want my clients fingerprints for elimination.
Sean spoke quickly. A delay would have alerted Templeman and probably, maybe more so, Hellier. Not on his body. On some cash we found in his pocket, he lied. Your client paid for sex. So unless he used a credit card, the cash could be Mr. Helliers. Its already been chemically treated and weve been able to recover a number of prints. If the prints arent your clients, then they could be the killers.
Very well, Templeman said. My client is prepared to provide a set of elimination prints.
Hellier nodded his agreement to provide his fingerprints.
Good. Sean called a young detective constable into the room. This is DC Zukov. Hell take you to the surgeons room where a doctor will take your body samples, then hell take your prints. Understand?
Hellier didnt reply.
I need a full set, Paulo, Sean told DC Zukov. Palms and fingertips too. And the side of his hands.
Zukov nodded and looked at Hellier. If youd like to come this way, sir.
Templeman and Hellier followed DC Zukov from the room. Donnelly made sure they were out of earshot.
That was a bit of a porky-pie, boss. We dont have any fingerprints on any cash that I know of. Could cause us problems if anyone discovers we tricked our suspect into giving his prints-like the Crown Prosecution Service, for example.
Sean wasnt concerned. Fuck em. Ill cross that bridge when and if I come to it. Right now, I want his prints in case we get lucky at the scene.
He seems pretty confident hes never been inside Graydons flat, Donnelly reminded him.