Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
DC Chris Tyler wasn’t scheduled to work today, yet, after a disturbed night’s sleep with Freya’s words racing around his mind, he needed to do something proactive.
He needed to uncover the truth. Whether Anthony was innocent or not, the way the interview was conducted to extract a statement from him bordered on illegal.
Tyler knew DI Bishop was open to using any means possible to lock someone up, but would he really fit up an innocent man just to get the bosses and the press off his back?
Tyler didn’t think his corruption stooped that low, but he needed to be sure.
Chris missed breakfast and went for a long walk to clear his head.
He went down to the front and zipped up his coat against the buffeting winds.
He looked out to the grey sea, with high waves crashing violently onto the beach.
He understood why it appealed to Anthony Winstanley.
It was hypnotic and relaxing. It was only when he shivered and could no longer feel his toes that he decided to leave.
His presence at the station out of his working hours wasn’t unusual.
Detectives were often called in when they weren’t due to work and some just came in to get away from a noisy home life.
There was always something that needed to be done, so there was no reason for Chris to slink down the corridors or hide in doorways if he heard someone coming.
The incident room was run on a skeleton staff at the weekend. DS Osborne was at his desk on the phone and, judging by his body language, it was a private call. Chris went over to his desk and sat down, making a play of flicking through some paperwork.
Osborne slammed the phone down. ‘Bollocks. Why can’t some women take the hint? Our Karen wants me to go to a Bonfire Night party. Why would I want to do that? It’s going to be full of sodding screaming kids.’
Chris looked over to him and smiled.
‘What are you doing here?’ Osborne asked.
‘Trying to avoid helping a friend move house,’ he lied and gave a fake smile.
‘Best thing about this job. You can say you’ve been called in and people believe you. I’ve lost count of the number of Karen’s family get-togethers I’ve missed.’
‘Yeah,’ Chris said nervously. ‘Listen, you haven’t seen those witness statements from the prostitutes, have you?’
‘What do you want them for?’
‘I … I think I recognise the name of one of the women. It’s been bugging me. I’m sure I went to school with her.’
Osborne laughed. ‘Maybe she was a one-night stand.’
‘Maybe.’
‘I think they’re on Bishop’s desk. I’m popping to the canteen. Fancy a bacon butty?’
‘Please. Do you want some money?’
‘Nah, you bought me one last week, remember?’
‘Oh yes. Thanks.’
Chris watched as Osborne took his wallet from the inside jacket pocket draped over his chair and left the room.
He waited a few minutes more before checking the rest of the staff scattered around the incident room.
Most were either on the phone or had their head bent over a typewriter, hammering away.
As nonchalantly as possible, Chris stood up and went over to Bishop’s office. As usual, the door was unlocked. He pushed the handle down and entered.
Bishop’s desk was a mess of used mugs, scattered files, scraps of paper filled with hastily written notes, and anything suitable used as an ashtray.
He looked down and didn’t have a clue where to start.
He picked up a couple of files, opened them, then immediately discarded them.
He had no idea how Bishop could find anything.
Nothing was related to the same case. It was a mishmash of a filing system.
Eventually, he found what he was looking for.
A slim file with just a few sheets of paper inside.
Four statements in total from three women working as prostitutes.
His eyes scanned the statements and took in the claims of Anthony playing with himself while watching them have sex, trying to join in, and aggressively swearing and spitting at them.
He was finding all this very hard to believe.
‘Can I help you with something?’
Chris jumped, turned around, and saw Henry Bishop in the doorway with Osborne loitering in the background.
‘Sir. I … I’m … I was just…’
‘Snooping.’
‘No. I…’ He stopped and took a breath. ‘To be honest with you, sir, I was having a little trouble believing Anthony’s guilt so wanted to have another look at these statements. You know, put my mind at rest.’
‘Ah. I see,’ Bishop said, folding his arms. ‘And is your mind now at rest?’
Chris struggled to find the words. ‘That’s the thing. Not really.’
‘Enlighten me, DC Tyler.’
‘These statements. They’re all the same.’
‘Go on.’
‘They all say exactly the same thing,’ Chris said, holding them out in a shaking hand.
‘Well, they would, wouldn’t they? They’re three hookers who’ve seen the same man watching them have sex. What do you want them to do, throw in a musical number for a bit of variety?’
Osborne sniggered.
‘No, sir, that’s not what I mean. It’s just … well, they sound like they’ve been written by one person who put three different names on top of the statements.’
‘You think we’ve made these names up?’ Bishop snatched the statements from Chris and looked at the first one. ‘If you don’t think this Alison Barnaby character is real, I suggest you have a word with Eddie Ritter. He knows her very well. A little too well, if you get my meaning.’
‘I’m not saying the people are made up. I’m saying…’ Chris trailed off.
Without a flinch, Bishop kicked the door to his office closed behind him. The slam made everyone in the incident room jump and look up. Bishop and Tyler were now alone in the office, though, with the blinds open, everything they did was on show.
Chris retreated.
‘What are you accusing me of?’ Bishop asked, his voice low and calm.
‘Nothing.’
‘Really? If you think something dodgy is going on here, then why don’t you spit it out?’
Chris looked to the floor. ‘I just think, sir, that from the point of view of the defence team, they might think these statements are … false.’
The silence deepened. Chris looked up at the thunderous face of his boss while his heart thumped loudly in his chest. He wished he was anywhere else in the world right now rather than here in this office.
The movement was so quick, Chris didn’t see it coming. One second he was standing, the next he was on the floor with a hand to his face, touching the place where Henry Bishop had slapped him hard and knocked him off his feet.
Bishop lunged forward, grabbed him by his collar, and marched him out of the room. He threw him towards his desk.
‘Clear your fucking desk,’ Bishop shouted.
‘The name on that door is Henry Bishop. Detective Inspector Henry Bishop. I’m the highest-ranking officer in this room.
I give the orders. You take them,’ he said, addressing the whole room.
‘If any of you can’t get your head around that then now is the perfect time to leave.
I will not have my methods questioned by anyone, especially a DC who thinks he knows it all.
I want you out of this office within five minutes and back in uniform on Monday. ’
Bishop turned on his heels and left the incident room, slamming the double doors behind him.
The silence in the room was palpable. Chris sat up and looked around him. Nobody would make eye contact with him.
‘You went and snitched on me for asking questions, didn’t you?’ Tyler said to Osborne.
Stephen didn’t reply. He couldn’t even look at Chris.
‘You need to be really careful, Steve, because dinosaurs like him are on their way out. And when he falls, he’ll either put the blame on you or take you with him.
Either way, you’re going to be on your own.
’ Chris looked around his desk and saw he had nothing personal to take with him.
He stood up and walked to the door. He stopped, turned back, and went over to Osborne’s desk.
He leaned over him. ‘You’re a fucking coward, Stephen,’ he hissed, before leaving the room with his head held high.