‘Tell me Dean.’ Janine said. ‘You get a taste for it? Give you a buzz?’
He gasped. ‘No, no!’ His breath was jerky, he kept rocking, his face wild. ‘Last time, last time…’
‘Last time what?’ She pressed him.
‘Last time, Williams-’ He couldn’t say it, he stared at Janine, on the brink.
‘He struggle more?’
Dean broke. ‘He… raped… me!’ He drew it out like a howl of pain, face raised to the ceiling, the tendons in his neck standing out.
Janine’s heart stuttered. The poor bloody lad. She put her face in her hands.
Richard stopped the tape.
‘I’m sorry, Dean.’ Janine said quietly. ‘I’m so sorry. We’ll get you a drink. You have a break.’
She thought of Michael then, if ever he… if any of her kids had to carry that violation with them. Stop it. She pushed back her chair. Richard looked as shaken as she was. They all needed a break.
They took fifteen minutes in Janine’s office.
Janine sat with her feet up, her shoulders ached, she rubbed at them trying to release the tension. A good soak, that’s what she needed. Later, she promised herself.
Richard was pacing about, still disturbed by Dean’s story. ‘Poor bastard.’
‘He never spoke about it, never even used it in his defence, there was nothing in any of the trial reports, simply got put down to a fight. Too ashamed. Deep down he probably blames himself. Something he said, something he did.’ She swung her feet down. ‘I reckon he’ll give us the real story once he’s calmed down. Deaking should be ready now. Shall we?’
Mr Deaking sat rigidly upright his hands clasped on the table in front of him. He left the talking to his solicitor. ‘My client would like to make a statement. He admits to taking part in the sex sessions with Mrs Tulley, which were filmed by her husband, but he strenuously denies the charge of attempted murder. He was simply trying to find out if Mrs Tulley knew where the tape was.’
‘By choking the life out of her?’ Janine raised an eyebrow. ‘I don’t think so.’
The canteen was busy, coppers coming and going, banter between them and the staff serving. Janine and Richard had got a corner table. Janine, feeling depleted of energy, had gone for a hot meaclass="underline" lamb hot-pot and braised red cabbage. Something to keep her reserves up for the ordeal ahead. Interviewing Lesley Tulley. Shap had joined them, avid for news about Deaking.
‘They’re always so normal, aren’t they, the Deakings of this world. All that respectability and a shed full of porn.’ Janine shook her head. ‘He buys a tape from one of his suppliers and who’s on it? Lesley, his deputy’s wife. But he doesn’t do anything yet – he waits until Tulley’s in trouble.’
Shap listened, his eyes bright with curiosity.
Richard picked up the story. ‘Tulley keeps his job after the assault on Ferdie Gibson because Deaking backs him to the hilt, in return for…’
‘… a piece of the action.’ Janine said.
Shap fiddled with his lighter. ‘Was he really trying to kill her?’
Janine shrugged. ‘He lost it. He was scared she’d talk, give us the tapes. She wouldn’t see him, wouldn’t take his calls. When Lesley said she didn’t know where the video was he didn’t believe her. Thought he could throttle it out of her.’ She put her empty plate on the tray. ‘Whatever he gets he’ll never pick up another piece of chalk again.’
She drained her cup and grimaced at the rank taste. ‘They ought to add that to the dangerous substances register.’
She stood up. Richard looked up. Got to his feet. ‘Okay, let’s do it.’ She led the way.
It was hard to banish the brutal video images from her mind as she sat opposite Lesley Tulley again.
‘Lesley, when we spoke earlier I asked you about this man. I am showing Mrs Tulley a photograph of Mr Ronald Prosser.’
A rapid blink.
‘You denied knowing him.’
‘I don’t know him.’
‘Are you sure? You’ve never met him?’
‘No,’ she said curtly.
‘He’s just come out of prison. Serving time for drug offences but there were some lesser charges for pornography. That’s how Matthew knew him, isn’t it Lesley?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘And Mr Deaking. We know all about it now.’
Lesley looked scared, her eyes rounder but she said nothing.
‘We’ve got this.’
Janine glanced at Richard who slid the videotape in its evidence bag across the table and said. ‘I am showing Mrs Tulley a videocassette, item 439.’ Lesley sat unmoving.
Janine spoke gently. ‘Lesley, we’ve watched the film.’
‘Films, videos,’ she tossed her head dismissively, ‘it’s crazy.’
‘It’s hard to watch. Unbearable. The violence. We know what Matthew made you do.’ She lowered her voice further, creating the intimacy she required. ‘What Mr Deaking did. It changes everything.’ She could sense the other woman fighting to resist the empathy, avoiding eye contact, one corner of her mouth twitching. ‘You can tell us now, Lesley.’
‘I haven’t got anything to say,’ quietly.
‘What about Dean Hendrix?’ Richard said.
‘Pardon?’
‘What about Dean Hendrix? How well do you know him?’
‘I don’t.’ She looked at Janine. ‘You said you’d arrested him.’
‘Dean is being very helpful.’ Richard said. ‘He gave us the tape.’
Lesley looked blank.
Janine spoke up. ‘Perhaps you needed a friend, someone to share your troubles with? Or a lover?’
‘No. I don’t even know who he is.’
‘The knife we recovered,’ said Richard, ‘the murder weapon, it turned up in town on Saturday morning.’
She remained unspeaking.
Janine sat back and regarded her. Began afresh. ‘I’ll tell you what I think happened. You followed Matthew to the allotments. You had the knife. You hurt him, badly.’
‘Don’t.’
‘You went home. You’d blood on your hands, on your clothes-’
‘No, stop it, it’s not true, I loved Matthew.’ The solicitor signalled to Lesley to keep quiet.
‘You cleaned up, put your clothes in the machine.’
‘No!’
‘You know we are searching your property now?’
Her chin went up, she stared at Janine with defiance.
‘You took the knife with you and drove to town.
You got hold of someone else’s parking ticket to try and give yourself an alibi.’
Lesley opened her mouth; lies, her face said, outrage burning spots of colour on her cheeks. ‘It’s not true. I can’t explain the ticket. The clock on the machine-’
‘We have CCTV footage,’ Richard said flatly. ‘How did you get to the Triangle?’
‘Through Millennium Gardens.’
‘Did you leave anything in a litterbin in Millennium Gardens?’ he asked her.
‘A sandwich wrapper.’ She was indignant. ‘I didn’t kill Matthew. You can’t do this to me.’
‘Perhaps you had some help?’ Janine said. ‘Did Dean come with you to confront Matthew? Was he there in case you couldn’t go through with it? Or did you send Dean to get rid of the knife?’
‘This is completely crazy. I don’t know Dean,’ she shouted.
‘Perhaps Dean had seen the videos? Seen some of the terrible things you had to suffer.’
Lesley covered her mouth with her hands. Tears splashed from her eyes.
‘How long had it been going on? Months? Years? Did Matthew make you watch the tapes with him?’
‘I didn’t do anything. I didn’t do it. I didn’t.’ She collapsed, her shoulders heaving, her words drenched in tears.
The solicitor leant forward to insist on a break but Janine pre-empted this by holding her hands up in surrender pose.
When Janine went into her office she was startled to find The Lemon lurking there. He was standing at the far wall, looking out through the glass partition. ‘Your update?’