Читать книгу Pure Evil - How Tracie Andrews murdered my son, decieved the nation and sentenced me to a life of pain and misery - Maureen Harvey - Страница 6

It was 3.20am on Sunday, 1 December 1996. The sound of a car pulling up outside had woken Ray and me. Who else would turn up in the middle of the night but Lee?

I lay awake in the darkness wondering why I couldn’t hear him letting himself in downstairs. Typical, I thought, getting out of bed. He’s probably forgotten his front-door key. But, when I pulled back the curtains and saw a white car parked at the end of our drive, I realised it wasn’t Lee’s. I was horrified when I saw two uniformed police officers get out of the car and make their way up the garden path.

I can remember shouting, ‘No!’ as they were knocking on the front door and, in that split-second, as Ray leaped out of bed and nearly fell over as he tried to put both legs in one trouser hole, a thousand thoughts raced through my mind. Had Lee been in an accident? Was he hurt? Was it Michelle, my daughter? She was pregnant and on a Center Parcs holiday with her husband Steve and two-year-old daughter Paige. What in God’s name had happened?

Even as Ray and I were running down the stairs, I was silently praying, ‘Please, God, let everything be all right. Let them have the wrong address.’

Facing a policeman and woman on the doorstep, I gripped Ray’s arm. ‘Are you the parents of Lee Harvey?’ one of them asked.

The blood was pounding in my head as Ray nodded and stepped back to let them into the hallway.

‘I’m afraid he’s been in some sort of row,’ the officer continued. ‘A road-rage attack. He’s been stabbed.’

I could hardly breathe. ‘Is he all right?’ I asked.

His face said it all. ‘We’re very sorry, Mrs Harvey…’

‘Oh, God!’ I screamed. ‘Please don’t tell me he’s dead.’

Ray was crying as the officers followed us into the sitting room. The policewoman put her arm round me and said she’d make us a cup of tea. I went into the kitchen and started getting cups out of the cupboard. I was in such a state of shock that I couldn’t find anything else. I stood shaking by the sink and let the policewoman gently take a cup from my hands.

This couldn’t be happening to us. It happened on the television to other people. I’d read harrowing interviews in the newspapers and magazines where other parents had relived this nightmare. It was too much to take in that now it was our turn and that our son was dead.

‘It can’t be Lee,’ Ray said. His voice was choked, barely audible.

‘No,’ I heard myself say. ‘You’ve made a mistake… It’s not him… It can’t be.’

‘I’m afraid it is Lee,’ the first policeman began.

‘What about Tracie?’ I interrupted him. My mind was racing. Lee stabbed? Murdered? A road-rage attack?

‘Was she with him?’ I asked. ‘Is she hurt?’

‘She’s been taken to the Alexandra Hospital in Redditch,’ he said, watching Ray pace up and down the room. ‘She’s in shock and has some bruising from where she was attacked, but she’s all right. We’ll be talking to her later.’

‘What do you mean, “She’s all right”?’ Ray demanded. ‘Why didn’t she phone us? If she was with Lee when someone killed him, she’s a witness. Why would anyone leave a witness to identify them?’

Even when you’re facing the kind of shock that feels like a sledgehammer punch in the chest, like someone is squeezing the breath out of you, you still, somehow, focus on trying to make sense of the unthinkable.

Tracie Andrews… we’d lost count of the times our son had driven or caught a taxi back home in the early hours after yet another row with Tracie. The arguments between them were the only predictable thing about their on-off relationship.

Usually, after one or both of them had downed one too many drinks, Tracie would end up either phoning her mum or the police to say she wanted Lee out of her flat for good. She’d claim he was throwing things at her, threatening her, taunting her. Like us, the police knew it was a case of six of one and half-a-dozen of the other and would log the call as another domestic. They’d turn up, Tracie would turn on the waterworks and play the victim, and Lee would pick up his jacket and leave. He’d get home covered in scratches and bruises, while Tracie would be crying on her mum’s shoulder, blaming Lee for causing yet another bust-up.

A couple of days later, the phone would ring and Lee would listen to her in floods of tears begging him to come back… and off he’d go. That was just the way things were between them. Tracie seemed to thrive on the drama and Lee was so besotted with her that, for most of the two years they’d been together, he wouldn’t have a bad word said against her. Just so long as they ended up in bed together once they’d kissed and made up, he went along with it.

Ray and I had given up trying to convince him that they’d never be happy together, even though they were engaged and planning their wedding. Arrogant and self-obsessed, Tracie had been bad news from the day we’d met her. We’d both recognised a controlling young woman whose bleached blonde hair and caked-on make-up masked a deep insecurity and manipulative personality. She was the kind of good-time girl who ruthlessly traded on her sexuality to seek the attention she craved.

Lee, a good-looking lad, who’d bedded more women than he’d had hot dinners, saw what every other red-blooded male would have seen – another trophy girlfriend who wouldn’t take much persuading to get into bed.

‘He’s not in love,’ Ray had said to me when Lee brought Tracie home for Sunday lunch a week after they’d met in Baker’s nightclub in Birmingham. ‘He’s in lust.’

That had been back in May 1994. We’d all hoped we’d see the back of her within a few weeks and that Lee would see through her. But sex was always Tracie’s trump card and, within just six months of meeting Lee, she had a diamond engagement ring on her finger and was planning a full-on white wedding to prove it.

‘We’re meant to be together,’ she’d announced on the day Lee brought her home to meet us. ‘It’s our destiny.’

Lee could have had his pick of any girl who caught his eye. But Tracie was different, he’d told me. ‘It’s the best sex I’ve ever had, Mum,’ he’d joked.

There was nothing he and I didn’t talk about and I was used to hearing him describe how he’d often get home from work and find her waiting for him in stockings and suspenders, ready to drag him upstairs. Lee had even told Michelle, his sister, that he thought he’d tried most things in bed until he met Tracie.

But even knowing how besotted Lee was with her wasn’t enough for Tracie. From the moment they’d met, she’d tried every trick in the book to drive a wedge between him and us. She carried a deep-rooted insecurity that made her cynical and paranoid. Everyone, or so she thought, was trying to take Lee away from her. Tracie was especially jealous of his relationship with his five-year-old daughter Danielle’s mum Anita Curtis and the fact that Lee was so close to his sister.

It was far from ideal, and particularly heart-breaking for me because we were so close and I couldn’t bear to see him so unhappy when he’d turn up at home after yet another argument. You never stop worrying about your kids or wanting to protect them, no matter what age they are, but as adults they have to lead their own lives, and learn from their own mistakes. It’s hard to sit on the sidelines and watch, but it’s part and parcel of being a parent. If you get too involved, it can make things worse. Once you’ve said your piece, you just have to let them get on with it.

In the week leading up to 1 December, I hadn’t seen Lee for a week. He’d moved back in with Tracie three months before, even though we’d told him, yet again, that he was making a big mistake. But then they’d had another huge bust-up and Lee had come home yet again.

‘If you even think about going back to her again after all this crap, you needn’t bother coming back here again,’ Ray had shouted when Lee said he was going to try to sort things out with her once and for all. ‘We’re not running a bloody hotel, you know.’

I followed Lee into the kitchen and watched him slam a half-drunk coffee on the sink unit.

‘Jean will let me stay with her,’ Lee said angrily. ‘She won’t mind having me.’

Lee had stayed with Ray’s sister before when Ray had told him he was sick of him leaving Tracie and then coming home with his tail between his legs. But, on this occasion, Ray was having none of it. ‘Oh, no, you’re not going to Jean’s,’ he shouted. ‘You’re not involving my family in this nightmare with that little slut.’

I didn’t want to take sides because, like Ray, I’d had enough of Tracie getting her own way. It seemed like she only had to snap her fingers and Lee would cave in and go running back to her. I knew Ray was only trying to make a point but at the same time I couldn’t bear the thought of Lee having nowhere to go.

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Ray,’ I said, ‘this is his home. He can come back any time he likes.’

Lee had said nothing as he picked up his car keys and walked towards the front door.

‘You’re making the biggest mistake of your life, son,’ Ray shouted. ‘She’s not worth all the grief she gives you.’

‘Right! I’ll go and live in a hostel,’ said Lee. ‘At least I’ll get some bloody peace and quiet.’

I knew Ray was trying to get Lee to change his mind and that he was just as angry and frustrated as I was. We all say things we regret in the heat of the moment. Especially when you love someone and don’t want to see them hurt. But I know, even after all this time, that the memory of that afternoon is one that will haunt Ray until he takes his last breath. Not just because of what he’d said to Lee, but because he let him walk out without saying goodbye.

Normally – but then nothing was normal after Tracie Andrews came into our lives – they’d have been hugging each other, joking, enjoying the lad–dad banter that was so much a part of their relationship. They adored each other but they were both pig-headed, stubborn men.

Lee had left the house after saying goodbye to me, Michelle and her husband Steve but had barely given his dad a second glance. He knew how angry and disappointed Ray was but he also knew that neither of them was prepared to back down.

I was so relieved when Lee turned up a few days later. ‘Where have you been staying?’ I asked him.

‘Mum, I’m fine,’ he said, ‘don’t worry about me… I’ve just come back to get some more clothes. I’m back at Tracie’s. She’s not as bad as you think she is and I love her, Mum. We really are going to make it work this time. OK?’

I looked at him. He was grinning. I loved him so much it was impossible to stay cross with him. There was nothing I could say or do to stop him being with Tracie. I shrugged my shoulders. ‘OK, it’s your life,’ I said.

That night in December, it wouldn’t have mattered if Lee had come home and woken us up. We’d missed him so much and I knew Ray would be really chuffed. I knew he’d regretted losing his temper. He’d even taped an American football game for Lee that evening so I knew how much he was missing him.

And, anyway, the house wasn’t the same without Lee around. He livened things up with his crap jokes and funny stories. The music on his stereo was always playing too loudly, the washing machine was always full of his clothes and the frying pan was always sizzling with eggs and bacon. In fact, he’d often come home late after a night out with the boys and ask me to make him bacon, egg and chips. It didn’t matter how late it was, or whether I was engrossed in a film or something on the television, I’d happily start cooking. Ray knew that, if he had asked for a cup of tea after 8pm, he wouldn’t have stood a chance. The kitchen was closed to everyone – except Lee.

Sometimes, Ray would be upstairs in bed and would hear our laughter and the clatter of pans; or the smell of bacon, egg and chips cooking would waft upstairs and he’d come down to the kitchen. ‘I don’t believe it!’ he’d say, just like the character from One Foot in the Grave. Lee even nicknamed his Dad ‘Victor Meldrew’ after that!

Lee loved to laugh and chat and I loved to sit with him, listening to his jokes and his stories about the night out he’d just had. He would make me laugh so much that Ray would often bang on the bedroom floor and yell, ‘Oi, you two – some of us have to get up early, you know.’

Now, I miss the laughter and our late-night suppers more than anything.

Like us, his mates had got used to the on-off situation with Tracie, and the moment they knew he was living back home, they hardly left him alone. Every evening, a crowd of lads would turn up ready to hit the town. Lee loved it. But only because he always knew it would be only a matter of time before it was all hearts and flowers again with Tracie.

I instantly knew Ray suspected Tracie must have had something to do with Lee’s death, even though he never said anything while the police were there.

At that stage, neither of us wanted to believe Lee was dead. The police had told us that she’d been attacked as well, so how could she have been involved? She might have been the last woman in the world I’d wanted Lee to end up with but, for all her faults, I was convinced she loved him.

I can remember sitting on the sofa in our living room, shaking so much that when the policewoman handed me a cup of tea, I spilled it down my nightie. It was scalding hot but I hardly felt a thing as I looked at Ray sitting next to me with his head in his hands.

The policewoman asked if we could phone someone to sit with us. A neighbour or a friend perhaps?

‘We’ve got a lot of information coming in already,’ the policeman said. ‘We’ll be able to tell you a lot more as soon as we hear. I think you need someone with you.’

I shook my head. We’d lived in our house for 20 years, going out to work, bringing up our children, never causing anyone any problems or bothering them. The only person I knew I wanted to speak to was my brother Alan. We were from a family of nine children and he and I had always been close. Four years earlier, he’d lost his only son Spencer in a terrible road accident. It had happened the day before his 17th birthday. Cycling to his job at Next, he’d been knocked off his bike by a lorry and had died when he got to hospital.

He and Lee had grown up together and had been very close. He was such a lovely lad and had started training to be a fireman when he died. It had always been his dream job but, as he had to wait until his 18th birthday to join the Fire Service, his job at Next had been a stop-gap. Alan had been through this nightmare. He’d know what to do, what to say.

Alan’s daughter answered the phone and passed it over to her dad when I asked to speak to him.

‘I know how you feel about losing Spencer,’ I blurted out when Alan asked me what was wrong.

‘Lee’s been in a road-rage attack. Oh, God, Alan, he’s been murdered. Can you come over?’

Alan didn’t ask me any questions. He said he was on his way and rang off.

I told the police I didn’t want them to contact Michelle. She was 27 at the time, two years older than Lee, and they’d always been so close. I couldn’t begin to imagine how she’d take in any of this. The thought that she might hear about it on the news was unthinkable. I just wanted her to get home safely with Steve and Paige before Ray and I got to her and told her what had happened.

The officers looked at each other. ‘We can tell them for you,’ the policeman said.

Ray was on his feet, still crying.

‘No,’ I shouted. ‘Ray and I will deal with it. She’s pregnant.’

The policeman nodded. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll keep Lee’s name from the press until then,’ he said.

Alan and his wife Babs arrived within ten minutes of my call. Their journey from Sheldon in Birmingham would normally have taken a good half-an-hour but Alan later told me he’d driven at 90mph most of the way.

Ray and I were in tears again as soon as they came through the front door. I can remember all of us hugging each other and crying as we explained what the police had told us.

‘None of this rings true,’ Alan said quietly, as he held me in his arms. ‘Why didn’t Tracie phone you?’

The policeman shook his head. ‘We don’t know any more than what we’ve told you,’ he said. ‘There’s bound to be a lot more information coming in to the incident team and, as soon as they know more, you’ll be told.’

‘I want to see Lee,’ I told the officers. ‘You could have made a mistake, but, if it really is him, then I need to be with him. I’m going now.’

The police explained that Cooper’s Hill, the lane where it had happened in Alvechurch, just three miles from our home in King’s Norton, would be closed to enable officers from the West Mercia Police Forensics Team to begin their investigation into Lee’s death. ‘No one but the police will be allowed there,’ the policeman said.

I was crying again. ‘Please,’ I begged him. ‘Please let us see Lee.’

The policeman took out his phone and punched in a number. He walked into the kitchen as he spoke. I could hear him telling whoever he was speaking to that we were devastated. I looked at Ray, the tears rolling down my face as he came back into the sitting room moments later.

Alan was trying to calm me down. ‘They’ve got to get as much evidence as possible,’ he said gently. ‘You can’t just go charging up there.’

I knew he was right but all I kept seeing in my mind was Lee lying in the road alone.

The policeman came back into the room. ‘I’m afraid it’s just not possible, Maureen,’ he said. ‘You’ll be able to see him as soon the forensics team has finished its work.’

‘Couldn’t I speak to whoever you’ve just spoken to?’ I pleaded. ‘They must be able to tell us something else.’

The policeman handed me the phone.

‘Mrs Harvey?’ I heard a calm voice on the end of the line. ‘I’m so sorry but this is a murder inquiry and it’s vital that we get all the evidence. We’ve set up a roadblock to stop anyone going up the lane…’

‘I just want to be with Lee,’ I interrupted him. ‘I’m his mum.’

The incident officer waited for me to finish. ‘I don’t know if this helps in any way, but Lee wouldn’t have felt any pain. He sustained multiple stab wounds and lost a lot of blood. He would have gone very quickly.’

Whoever spoke to me that night did the best job anyone could have done under the horrifying circumstances to calm me down and bring me to my senses. However painful it was to listen to, I knew what he was saying was right and handed the phone back to the policeman.

‘Have you phoned Anita yet?’ Alan asked.

I looked at Ray and shook my head. Lee had split up with Anita three years earlier but they’d remained close friends because of their little girl Danielle and the fact Lee had wanted her to be a big part of his life and ours. I can still remember Lee sitting on the edge of my bed the night he came home and told me Anita was pregnant. ‘It wasn’t planned, Mum,’ he admitted. ‘But I know I can be a good dad.’

He was only 20 at the time and money was tight, but Ray and I knew his child would never be short of love. When Lee split up with Anita two years later, he remained devoted to Danielle. He moved back home and set about converting our spare room for her. When she came to stay at the weekends, she’d spend hours setting up furniture in the doll’s house he’d bought and repainted for her.

Lee was the best dad any little girl could have wished for – caring, kind, generous and loving. He would push Danielle on the swing, sit on the seesaw and jump on the trampoline with her. Like so many little girls, she was mad about prams and pushchairs and Lee would take her for a walk so that she could take her dollies out in the pram. He’d let her help him wash his car and then they would get a little bucket and sponge so that she could wash her bike too. He would always sing songs with her, watch videos and pretend to be the customer in her game of shops. He never tired of drinking the endless cups of pretend tea that she made for him in her wendy house.

One time, he and Michelle took Danielle to feed the ducks. There weren’t many ducks at the pond, but, as soon as Lee started to throw bread, hundreds of ducks, geese and God knows what else appeared from nowhere and completely surrounded the three of them. When they started pecking him, Lee had to pick Danielle up and they all made a run for it!

We never saw Lee happier than when he was with his girl. Like two peas in a pod. They had the same brown eyes and dark hair and absolutely adored each other.

Tracie’s daughter Carla, from a previous relationship, was only a year older than Danielle and the two girls had always got on well. It had been one of so few positive things about her time with Lee. The fact that they both had children had always meant that, when they weren’t arguing, at least they could share the happiness of being parents to two happy, healthy little girls.

The thought of Anita finding out about Lee through a radio or TV bulletin was unbearable and, although I had no idea what I was going to say as I dialled her number, I knew I had to find the words.

‘Anita, it’s Maureen…’ I said, when she answered the phone. ‘I’m sorry to ring you at this time but Lee’s been involved in a road-rage incident.’

I could hear the panic rising in her voice as she asked me if he was all right.

‘Anita, listen to me… Lee’s been murdered.’ My voice was breaking as the words came out. ‘I’m so sorry to be telling you on the phone but I had to let you know before someone came and knocked on your door or you heard it on the news.’

I could hear her crying as she asked me what had happened.

‘We don’t know very much,’ I continued, hardly able to believe what I was saying. It was like I was talking about someone else. ‘The police have told us he’s been stabbed. Tracie’s in hospital but she’s OK.’

I knew Anita was barely able to take in what I was saying to her. Like us, the shock and disbelief had left her unable to do anything but cry.

‘I’ll have to tell Danielle later,’ she said tearfully. ‘I can’t believe this is happening.’

‘We’ve all got to be strong for her,’ I said. ‘I’ll let you know as soon as we know more.’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’ll come over later.’

It must have been about 7.30am when the police left. ‘We’ll be in touch,’ the policeman said. ‘I’m sure you’ll be able to go and identify Lee today.’

Identify Lee? I think it was then that the penny really dropped. I wasn’t going to see Lee. I was going to identify his body.