Читать книгу DCI Warren Jones - Paul Gitsham, Paul Gitsham - Страница 30

Warren had to wait until Bethany Rice’s father was free, before she was able to attend the station for an interview. A few weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday, Bethany Rice was a sixth-form student who worked at the abbey on weekends. Strictly speaking, she didn’t need an appropriate adult present, since she wasn’t under arrest and was seventeen, but Warren had learnt to choose his battles wisely, and he needed her cooperation.

Apparently her father had been present when she was originally interviewed about Father Nolan’s death. He had reportedly been unhappy about her having her fingerprints taken for exclusionary purposes, and had insisted on going over her witness statement before she signed it, whilst helpfully explaining the rules regarding the retention of biological samples to the twenty-year veteran constable conducting the interview. The man had clearly been on Wikipedia before bringing his daughter in.

‘She’s doing really well, at school,’ her father had told Warren as they’d walked down to the interview suite, clearly flattered on his daughter’s behalf that she was being interviewed by a DCI. For his part, Warren was already wishing he’d passed her off to somebody else, but he had been free and wanted her interviewed sooner rather than later.

By the time they reached the interview suite, Warren was already fully up-to-speed about the medical school interviews that Rice had recently been for, and the work experience at Addenbrooke’s hospital that she’d completed, even though her school hadn’t been as supportive as they could have been and they’d been forced to engage a tutor to help compensate for the poor teaching. Throughout this, Rice had said nothing, mostly looking at her shoes.

Things did not improve when Warren started the interview. Mr Rice had clearly assumed that his daughter had been called in as a vital witness in the death of Father Nolan. It then transpired that Rice hadn’t told her father about the intruder in the abbey grounds.

‘If I’d had any idea that the site was so unsecure, I never would have let my daughter work there.’

This last comment seemed to be aimed squarely at Warren, although quite what the man thought he could do about it was unclear. It also explained why Rice had chosen not to share the incident with her father.

‘I’d just finished my shift in the gift shop and I was walking back to the staff car park,’ said Rice, making eye contact for the first time.

‘We bought her a car after she passed her test first time,’ interjected Mr Rice. ‘Much safer than letting her catch that bus, especially when it’s dark.’

‘Carry on, Bethany,’ said Warren, pointedly ignoring the man’s interruption.

‘I saw somebody climbing over the wall along from the main entrance, in front of the graveyard. He sort of flopped over and hit the ground with a really loud thump, so I went over to see if he was OK.’

Next to her, her father’s eyes bulged.

‘You went over?’

‘Yes, I thought he might have hurt himself.’ Her tone was defiant.

‘But he could have had a knife or anything,’ spluttered her father.

‘Well, he didn’t. I asked him what he was doing and when he didn’t answer, I told him I was going to call security, so he’d better leave now.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He called me an interfering bitch and told me to fuck off.’

Whether her father’s shock was at the words that had been aimed at his daughter, or the matter-of-fact way that she repeated them wasn’t clear. Regardless, Warren had to ask him to let his daughter continue her story uninterrupted.

‘I called Rodney and told him what was happening. It took a couple of minutes for him to get there, so I kept the man talking. He was obviously drunk or on drugs, but I think he was also a bit confused and disturbed.’

Mr Rice looked horrified. Warren was impressed at her peace of mind. She’d do well in a busy A&E department on a Friday night.

‘Anyway, I managed to get him to tell me his name and asked him why he was here.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He was a bit unclear, but he kept on saying he wanted to speak to the priests and ask them why they did it.’

‘Why they did what?’

‘I don’t know. Rodney turned up and he got really agitated. He started shouting, “you all knew about it” and “why didn’t you do anything?”’

‘Then what happened?’

‘Rodney started trying to calm him down, asking him why he was here, but he got really abusive, shouting and calling names. Rodney unlocked the front gate and told him that the police were on the way, so he should leave.

‘The man started to walk up the path towards the house, so Rodney stood in his way. There was a load of fence posts by the gate, and Rodney picked one up and he told the man to “fuck off, or he’d get some”. That was when Gabriel, that’s Deacon Baines, arrived.’

There had been nothing in either the arrest report or Baines’ statement about Shaw brandishing a weapon.

‘What happened when Deacon Baines arrived?’

‘He also tried to cool things down, but the man kept on saying “you’re one of them”. He picked up a branch and I thought Rodney was going to attack him. Then the police arrived, which seemed to quieten things down a bit. Both Rodney and the man threw their weapons away when the police came in the main gate.’

‘What happened when the police came?’

‘They tried to reason with him, but it was obvious he was going to end up in the back of the police van.’

‘Did he say anything else?’

‘Mostly swearing, but when he was being arrested, he did stop and shout specifically at Gabriel and told him to “seek forgiveness for his sins”, which seemed a bit weird.’

‘Do you have any idea why he shouted that?’

‘I don’t know. He was clearly a bit mad and off his face on drugs and booze.’

‘What did Deacon Baines and Mr Shaw say after the police took the intruder away?

‘Not a lot. Gabriel asked if I was OK, and Rodney offered to give me a lift home if I didn’t have my own car. I said “no thanks” because my car was in the staff car park. When I left, Gabriel was telling Rodney how they had to get the wall fixed to stop the nutters getting in and that next time they might not be so lucky.’

‘Have there been other incidents like this?’

Rice glanced at her father, who still looked annoyed that he hadn’t been told about this before. According to the police report, Bethany Rice had been little more than a passive spectator, her name taken as a witness, but never contacted again. But it seemed that they’d underestimated her importance in the drama. Judging from what he’d seen of her father, he got the feeling that a lot of people underestimated Bethany Rice.

‘I don’t know if they’ve had to call the police before, but I heard that somebody was made to leave the abbey grounds a few months ago when he was caught up by the house.’

None of the reports filed previously about trespassers had mentioned anyone getting caught near the house. Was it the same person, or someone else? And why hadn’t Baines mentioned it? Despite the man’s apparent openness, Warren was starting to suspect that he would not offer any information unless asked directly.

After determining that Rice had nothing else to offer, Warren thanked them both for their time. Mr Rice got up quickly, leaving the interview suite. His daughter lingered. It was clear that she had more to say, and would rather her father didn’t hear it.

It wasn’t what he expected.

‘Are you Mrs Jones’ husband?’

Damn. He’d had no idea that she was one of Susan’s pupils. He thought for a second, but couldn’t think of any obvious conflict of interest.

‘Yes. I assume she teaches you biology?’

‘Yes.’ She glanced over at the door and lowered her voice. ‘Ignore what Dad said, Miss is a really good teacher. Even with a tutor, I’m just not, you know—’

‘Come on Beth, I need to get back in time for a conference call to New York,’ her father called from the corridor outside.

‘That’s very kind of you to say.’ Warren could see no harm in passing on that little bit of praise to his wife; he knew she’d be touched.

Rice glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice even more.

‘I’ll be eighteen soon. Do the police offer work experience?’

* * *

Purbury Hostel was on the far side of town to the Phoenix Centre. Ruskin decided to park around the corner and walk. The car was out of his direct sight, but hopefully nobody would realise it belonged to him and add to the petty vandalism.

‘How can I help you officer?’ asked the apparently teenaged security guard in the tiny security cubicle in the lobby of the apartment block. He looked excited; no doubt a visit from the police would be the highlight of his shift.

‘Am I wearing a badge or something?’ asked Ruskin.

The man shrugged.

Ruskin pushed a copy of Furber’s photo under the glass partition.

‘Oh yeah, I know him, Lucas. He was here for a few months before Christmas. Managed to get himself kicked out in January.’ He lowered his voice conspiratorially. ‘Between you and me he probably should have been given the boot before then, but I wasn’t going to kick a bloke out before Christmas.’

‘Why was he asked to leave?’

‘The usual, booze and drugs. They’re not supposed to take either in their rooms. Strictly speaking, they shouldn’t even smoke in there, but we gave up that fight long ago. I smelt weed a couple of times and told him to knock it on the head, just friendly like, but he wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t turn a blind eye though when one of the cleaners found a bong in his room.

‘So you told him to leave?’

‘Yeah, no choice really. There’s a waiting list for a room.’

‘Any idea where he went?’

‘No, I don’t usually deal with that side of things, I’m just security, but the manager, Sunil, reckons Lucas got the hump, grabbed his bag and disappeared before we could try and arrange for a place in one of the emergency shelters – not that there are any places these days, but you never know …’

‘So he’s homeless? Sleeping rough?’

‘Probably. You could try one of the homeless shelters, or one of the street teams. Have you tried the Phoenix Centre?’

Ruskin confirmed that he had.

‘Not a lot else, I can suggest, sorry.’