Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jennifer requested to meet with DI Henry Bishop and was given a copy of Anthony’s signed confession to read while she waited in the interview room.
She’d only met with Anthony for a few minutes, but on the basis of the first meeting and her chat with Pauline earlier this morning, she knew this statement was a complete fabrication.
It used language Anthony would never use, words he wouldn’t know the meaning of, and it was a total contrast to what he, and his mother, had told her of the night of the storm.
‘Miss Ripley,’ DI Bishop entered.
‘Mrs.’
‘Sorry. How can I help you?’
He pulled out a chair and sat down with his legs stretched wide.
‘Do you expect me to believe this?’ She held up the statement.
‘It’s the truth, so, yes, I expect you and a jury to believe this.’
‘“I was excited by the storm. The sky was as black as ink and the waves were wild as they crashed onto the coastline.” Are you really expecting me to believe these are Anthony’s words?’
‘The perils of a university education. My DC was rather poetic with his notetaking. However, the statement was read back to Anthony twice and he agreed to everything in it.’
‘Why wasn’t he allowed to see his mother?’
‘He’s twenty-eight, for Christ’s sake. He doesn’t need his mummy to hold his hand.’
‘He takes medication. Why wasn’t he allowed access to it?’
‘We weren’t informed he takes medication.’
‘Why wasn’t a solicitor called?’
‘He didn’t request one.’
‘Did you offer him one?’
‘He wasn’t under arrest. He was merely helping us with our enquiries. As soon as he sat down, he began talking.’
‘Really? Then why did it take from eleven o’clock in the morning until six o’clock in the evening for you to charge him?’
‘Unfortunately, we’re very short-staffed at the moment, and we’re working on more than one case. There was a lot of waiting around.’
‘You have an answer for everything, don’t you, DI Bishop?’
‘It’s difficult not to when the questions are so easy,’ he said with a smile.
‘My client says he was coerced into making this statement.’
‘Well, he would.’
‘He says he was offered food and a chance to see his mum if he admitted to killing Alice Patterson.’
‘Why would we do that?’
‘I’ll tell you why,’ Jennifer said, slapping the statement down on the desk and folding her arms. ‘Because you’ve got nothing.
I’ve been keeping up to date with this case and I’ve seen how it’s been run.
A botched crime scene, no evidence, no witnesses, and the weight of the national press on your shoulders.
You need to make an arrest on this one or it’ll ruin your reputation.
Who better than a member of society who doesn’t quite fit in with the norm? ’
‘My team is made up of exemplary detectives. We worked the clues given and made an arrest based on facts. I don’t need to fabricate anything,’ he said, raising his voice in defiance.
‘This statement is crap, and you know it. I’m going before an appeal judge this afternoon and I’m going to make sure Anthony Winstanley is sleeping in his own bed tonight.’
‘Good luck with that, sweetheart.’ Bishop winked.
‘I didn’t have you down as a fry-up kind of woman,’ DC Chris Tyler said as he sat opposite Freya Sloan in the station canteen.
Freya was sitting alone. On the plate in front of her was a mound of sausage, chips, fried egg, baked beans and a slice of fried bread.
‘I’m not usually.’
‘Why is today so special?’
‘I’m angry. I eat when I’m angry.’
‘If I did that, I wouldn’t be able to fit through the station doors.’
‘What makes you angry?’
‘You tell me what’s pissed you off so much first,’ Chris said, struggling to open the plastic box which contained his chicken sandwich.
She threw her fork onto her plate. ‘It’s my own fault. I overheard something I shouldn’t have done.’
‘Gossip?’ Chris’s eyebrows lifted.
‘Not the kind of gossip you want to hear though.’
‘Are you going to tell me?’
‘Do you really want to know?’
‘This conversation isn’t going to go any further if we’re just going to ask each other questions.’
‘OK. First of all, thank you for the drink last night. I really needed it.’
‘You’re welcome,’ he said with a smile.
‘Secondly.’ Freya looked around her to make sure they weren’t overheard.
She dropped her voice and leaned closer to Chris.
‘Sergeant Wells was talking to Sergeant Peters this morning and Peters told Wells that Bishop had got one of his tarts to say Anthony Winstanley was watching her have sex on the night of the murder. Their words, not mine.’
‘So?’
‘Bishop has got a statement from this … woman, whoever she is, saying that Anthony watches her have sex. They’re trying to make out he’s some kind of pervert and he watched her on the night of the storm, then came across Alice and raped and murdered her.’
Chris took a bite of his sandwich and chewed slowly while he thought. He nodded. ‘I know. This is the theory.’
‘Also, you know how bad the storm was. Do you honestly think anyone in their right mind would have been out on that night having sex?’
‘Some of these women are desperate.’
‘Yes. But are the men? If you were in a cosy warm home and there was a raging storm outside, would you even consider going out for a quickie?’
Chris smiled to himself. ‘No. I’d just…’ He remembered who he was talking to, blushed, and looked down at his sandwich.
‘Exactly, Chris. You’d take care of business yourself.’
‘Don’t be crude.’
She smiled. ‘I’m right, though.’
‘Yes. You are.’
‘So, what are we going to do?’
‘I don’t know. Bishop has a signed confession from Anthony and witness statements from three prostitutes saying how Anthony liked to perv on them.
And being in Canal Street at that time places him near the murder site.
That’s the angle he’s going with; that Anthony’s some kind of sexual predator.
As far as he’s concerned, it’s an open-and-shut case. ’
‘What do you think?’
‘Does it matter what I think? I’m just a lowly DC.’
‘I’m even lowlier than you and I’m raging.
Chris, I did not join the police force so I could sit back and see people get sent to prison for crimes they didn’t commit.
There is a man out there who raped and murdered Alice Patterson.
If he gets away with it, there is every chance he could do it again.
Do you want that on your conscience? I bloody don’t. ’
It was a while before Chris answered. He turned and looked out of the window. There was a stiff wind blowing and the sky was clouding over. It was going to be a long winter.
‘No. I don’t.’
‘So, will you help me?’
‘Do what?’
‘Prove Anthony’s innocence.’
‘How are you going to do that?’
‘Well, for a start, we can go back and talk to these women, these prostitutes, and ask them exactly what they know about Anthony.’
‘I can’t do that,’ Chris exclaimed quietly.
‘Why not?’
‘Do you have any idea what Bishop would do to me if he found out I’ve been going behind his back? He’d do more than send me back to uniform, he’d probably have me thrown out of the force.’
‘So, that’s it, is it? You’re not prepared to help.’
‘Freya, there’s nothing I can do.’
‘Fine,’ she said, standing up. ‘I’ll have to do it on my own, then.’
‘Do what?’
‘Talk to these women. Can you get me their contact details?’
‘Freya, if Bishop finds out what you’re doing, he’ll make your life hell. I know it.’
‘I can live with that. What I can’t live with is an innocent man in jail.’
‘You’re going to make yourself very unpopular.’
‘I really don’t care. Look, Anthony might be guilty, and if he is, I’ll hold my hands up and say he deserves to spend the rest of his life in prison, but not this way. This is wrong.’
‘Aren’t you going to finish your dinner?’
‘I’ve lost my appetite,’ she said, walking away.