The Sister(88)

Chapter 69



They spent the journey back to the police station mostly in silence. They left their crime scene colleagues to pick over every square inch of the flat. The landlady had tried to get some information out of them as they left. Kennedy told her politely, but firmly that if he needed to speak with her, he’d be in touch.

There was something eating Kennedy for sure. A couple of times Tanner had almost asked him directly, but Kennedy was in one of those thoughtful moods of his. He hadn’t said more than a few words about Bletchley. Five minutes from the station, he couldn’t hold back any longer. ‘Is everything all right, sir, you seem like something’s on your mind?’

‘Tanner, there’s always something on my mind.’

‘I was reading about sexual deviants once, sir, it’s amazing how often they start off like this and escalate, getting bolder…’

‘All I know, is that we look likely to have taken a rapist out of circulation. Twenty-seven women on that list, Tanner, imagine if we hadn’t caught him now.’

‘It doesn’t bear thinking about, sir,’ he said, turning into the car park at the station. ‘Twenty-seven…?’

‘That’s what I said. What’s on your mind?’

He stopped the car. ‘Well, as far as I could tell, there were only twenty-six women in the photographs, sir.’

Kennedy slapped him on the thigh. ‘Come on; let’s see what he has to say.’





In the interview room, Bletchley entered escorted by Tanner and the duty sergeant. Kennedy walked in a minute later.

Kennedy openly studied Bletchley. He was of medium height and build, dark lank hair, a vague unwashed odour about him. Deep-set dark eyes under thick eyebrows, his cheeks were sallow above the beard line; he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. The stubble took on a blue sheen in the harsh lights. His lips were moist, and the lower lip provided a platform for his remaining front tooth to rest on – The other teeth were on a roof-mouth plate, taken from him as a choking hazard. Kennedy imagined him the sort who dribbled in his sleep. If he were convicting on looks alone, this man would be guilty. Bletchley cast a side-glance at Tanner, who was speaking for the benefit of the tape.

He confirmed all present, and informed Bletchley of his right to have legal representation – which he declined. The interview commenced at 6:35 p.m.

‘Where were you on the night of Saturday the 3rd of March between midnight and 1:00 am?’ Kennedy sat resting his chin on his thumb; his forefinger covered his top lip as he waited for Bletchley’s reply.

‘I’ve already told you guys, I was fishing at the old brick-fields in Hadleigh.’

‘Can anyone vouch for that?’

‘Yes, I met a couple of mates up there.’

Tanner flicked the pages of his notebook back. ‘That’s right, Bob and Dave. I don’t suppose you have any luck remembering their surnames?’

‘No. Sorry…’ Bletchley shrugged his shoulders sheepishly.

‘Do you have a telephone number or address for either of them?’

‘No…You see the thing is a lot of the guys that go up there; you know we’re mates, and that, but we’re just fishing friends.’

Kennedy snorted. ‘So you can’t verify your story…’

‘Err, not unless I can find them. I could get them to come in and make a statement…’

Kennedy produced a photograph of a girl and placed it in front of him on the table. ‘Do you know this girl?’

‘I’ve never seen her before in my life.’

‘What about this?’ It was a telephone number, Kennedy’s own personal mobile number.

‘No! For God’s sake…’ Bletchley’s hot denial sounded convincing enough, but the tiniest flicker in his eyes betrayed him. Kennedy thought. He’s hiding something.

‘Okay,’ Kennedy said as he placed a photograph of Natasha Stone on the table in front of him. ‘What about this girl?’

Bletchley licked his lips; his eyes flicked furtively between the two detectives. ‘Yes, I know her. She was my girlfriend.’

‘Really? Yes – yes of course. What about the other girl, was she your girlfriend, too? Or the other twenty-five women on your wall – are they all girlfriends, too?’

‘On my wall?’ Bletchley said, looking confused.

‘Yes, on your wall.’

‘No, wait.’ He thought frantically. He’d known they would be searching his place, but he was confident they wouldn’t find anything incriminating. The photographs were in a box under a secret panel in the stair cupboard, along with the girls’ names and addresses. On the wall?

‘There are no photographs there, I’m telling you.’

Tanner put a photo showing the collage in position on his wall.

‘This is a stitch up!’ Bletchley looked directly at Kennedy. ‘Look, I misused a few chemicals at school; I made something I shouldn’t have made. I’ve made a mistake; that’s all. I had nothing to do with any rape. I’m not the gas mask attacker.’

Kennedy fixed him with a look. ‘Who said anything about rape or gasmasks?’

‘It was in the paper this morning.’

Stunned, Kennedy fired a hostile look at Tanner, as if he held him personally responsible.