The Sister(85)

Once Bletchley had alienated all her friends, he began working on isolating her from her family, too. Little by little, he crushed her, making her dependent on him, solely dependent. There was no one else left to turn to.

Tanner did not need a crystal ball to predict the outcome. That was when the abuse really began. Nothing Rainy ever did was good enough. She didn’t appreciate him. He began to punish her. He wouldn’t allow her out. He made her a prisoner in her own home. He didn’t like her talking to other people on the phone. He suspected her of seeing other men. The last thing she had – that he still wanted – was her home. She became convinced it was what he really wanted all along, to take her home from her. He tried to make her change her will in his favour. ‘You don’t want your relatives, those leeches, inheriting it, do you? Not after the way they’ve treated you!’

For Rainy, it had been the last straw. Finally, she was able to see him for what he really was. It took a lot of effort for her to escape him, because he was so assertive and confident, he succeeded in undermining her at every turn. No matter how hard she tried to break free, he just kept clawing her back. In the end, with a friend’s help, she’d had to take out an injunction on him to keep him away. That was what she meant by ‘it’s not over yet.’

The other girl had told Natasha enough to convince her to take a backward step. She told Tanner she believed what Rainy told her. Her natural defences were over-ridden by worry over her grandmother’s illness. If it hadn’t been for that, he’d never have got near her. She told Tanner she particularly remembered how his eyes lit up when she told him her grandmother would leave her everything. She rang and told him she didn’t want to see him again. After that, he just kept turning up out of the blue. He seemed to know when she was alone, or where she’d be going with her friends. She began to suspect he was stalking her, even intercepting her emails. ‘Sniffing them’, as she put it. Last of all she told Tanner. ‘The funny thing is as well, isn’t it marvellous how you always find these things out afterwards? Apparently, he had a nickname among the men at work. They used to give him a wide berth. They called him “Bletch the Letch”.’

Tanner shook his head, incredulous he’d got away with it for so long.

He asked her a question. ‘Natasha, I want you to think carefully. I know he had a mask on and he very quickly drugged you, but was there anything about him that made you think it was Bletchley; his smell or anything like that?’

‘Oh, my God!’ Natasha covered her cheeks with both hands. ‘Oh, my God. When I smelled the chloroform, I was so sure it was him!’ She stared right into Tanner’s eyes. ‘Now I’m not so sure, because I now remember thinking I could smell cigarettes, and he doesn’t smoke.’

‘He could have come in from a pub or club though, with the smell on his clothes.’ Tanner said.

‘No, no. It was much stronger than that. Whoever it was, smoked.’

He closed his notebook; it was all clear in his head now.

A moment later, Kennedy opened his door and seeing Tanner still standing there said, ‘There you are. I’ve been buzzing your office for ages.’

Tanner shrugged. ‘You said you'd only be a minute, sir, so I waited here.’ He followed Kennedy back inside his office.

‘We’re going to have to wrap this up quickly. Something else has come up.’

Having just reviewed the whole conversation with the victim, he summed it up in just a few words. ‘She went out with Bletchley twice, she found out he was an arrogant, narcissistic, controlling son-of-a-bitch out to get her money. She also suspected he may have been sniffing her mailbox—’

‘Where the hell did you pick up a disgusting term like that?’

‘Her words, sir, not mine.’

‘The sooner we get him in, the better. We’ll reconvene on the rest of the report. Get it typed up for me. Let me know what forensics comes up with.’ He checked his watch. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.’

Tanner stood, shut his notebook and slid it into the baggy left hand side pocket of his jacket.

He left the room, doubt nagging at him.





Chapter 66



While Tanner waited for further developments, he ran a few checks on Martin Shaw.

With no more information, there was little chance of tracking him down through the system. The obvious search string was prize-fighter, followed by his name, but the search revealed nothing.

Without a full name, address or date of birth, he wouldn’t even get off the ground with the official channels.

A Google search of newspaper archives came up with a single line reference in the Times. Crowned Third Time, King of the Gipsies William Martin Shaw refuses post-fight interview, this was followed by an account of the fight. He noted the reporter’s name.

Painstakingly picking articles apart, searching for similarities, dates, anything that would confirm it was the same man. Only ten percent of the articles could be relevant to what he was looking for. Convinced Martin was his middle name; he was then able to verify, under that identity, he hadn’t paid any tax, or national insurance, or registered as a professional fighter. He was completely outside the system, an outlaw. What a waste. He shook his head. All that work building a reputation, becoming a champion three times, that’s no mean achievement and given he did it with a ten year break in between…