“That’s my girl,” he replied, opening the door and entering the soundproofed room.
Steve Paynton was already seated behind the table, hands clenched together in front of him. He glanced up at them, unclenched his hands and tugged at the front of the all-in-one white forensic suit.
“Why the fuck have you put me in this?” he demanded truculently.
“Your clothes have been seized for forensics,” Hunter responded.
“What forensics? You’ve got fuck all on me.”
Grace and Hunter sat down opposite. Hunter slid the file across to Grace. They had already decided, given Steve Paynton’s attitude towards women, that it would rattle him more if she was to lead the interview.
Grace opened up the file, being careful not to show the photos they had found, and then she switched on the tape recording machine.
“This interview is being tape recorded,” she began, and went through the preliminaries; the opening preamble to any police taped interview, the caution and confirmation that he did not wish the services of a solicitor.
“Don’t fucking need one” he asserted.
Grace chided him child-like with a wagging finger, demanding he refrain from swearing for the purposes of the tape, and then continued with her questioning, but in a calm-matter-of-fact manner, in an effort to throw him off.
“We have a statement from a Susan Siddons, whom I believe you were once in a relationship with Steve?”
“No comment”
“Susan says that on a regular basis you would beat her. Is that correct?”
“No comment.”
“Are you going to sit there all day saying no comment?”
“No comment.” He stared hard into Grace’s eyes and smirked.
Grace patiently went through the statement taken from Susan Siddons, outlining every one of the beatings Steve had dealt her. He continued to respond with ‘no comment’ and then Grace changed tack to discuss the assaults on Carol Siddons, Sue’s daughter. His only change in answer came when he was asked about the time he was caught urinating on the girl.
“Look it’s her word against mine. Sue is an alkie. If this gets to court she’ll be torn apart in the box by my brief.”
“She wasn’t an alcoholic till she met you,” Grace snapped back.
Hunter touched the back of Grace’s hand and shot a quick glance at her, raising his eyebrows.
Grace knew that he was silently willing her to not let Paynton get under her skin.
She took a deep breath and then flicked over to the pages of Margaret Brown’s statement.
“Do you remember Mary Bennett?” Grace said referring to Margaret’s original birth name.
“Should I?” he replied arrogantly and then leaned back in his seat, clasping his hands behind his head.
“You should do. You were in a relationship with her for two years during the nineteen eighties.”
“A lot of water under the bridge since then, Constable. Refresh my memory.”
Grace again patiently read over Mary’s statement, careful to detail every incident of assault and introducing the numerous times he had raped her whilst being in fear of being beaten.
“Rape you say.” He rocked forwards and stroked his chin. “Definitely not rape. I would say it was consensual sex. She liked it rough if I recall. Don’t all women?”
Grace took another deep breath, exhaled slowly.
“Mary says she came home from bingo one night and found you had stripped her five year old daughter Samantha and were photographing her,” she said calmly.
Grace saw an immediate reaction to his look. His face had lost that cockiness.
He said after a long pause “No comment.”
Then Grace took out some of the photographs they had recovered from the tin under the bath. They were in two separate evidence bags, each one containing a number of images.
She slid out five photos from one of the bags.
“For the tape” she continued, “I am now showing the defendant exhibit one — five colour photos of a pre-pubescent girl. She is naked in each one and two of them focus on her genitalia.”
The colour drained from Paynton’s face. Grace knew that she had him.
She continued. “These have been identified by Mary Bennett as being those of her daughter Samantha, then aged five, and corroborate her statement. Can you tell me why we found these hidden in your house?”
He remained silent.
Grace opened up the second exhibit bag and removed four faded photographs. She slid them across the desk directly in front of his face.
“I am showing the defendant four colour photographs of a pre-pubescent girl.” She paused staring into Steve Paynton’s ashen face. “Two of these are naked, and two show the girl wearing just a pair of white panties,” she continued. “This girl has been identified as being the daughter of Susan Siddons — Carol Siddons, — whose body was recently discovered buried on the site of the old Manvers Colliery.”
“Whoa. Whoa.” he shouted. “Just a minute, where’s this fucking going? You’re trying to pin her murder on me aren’t you?”
“Never mind you shouting the odds saying we’re trying to pin the murder of Carol Siddons on you,” Grace retorted her own voice now raised a pitch higher. “We know you lived with Carol and her mum for some time. We also know that you were violent towards them, and you have a history of violence, and now we have found these nude photographs of Carol when she was only a child hidden in your bathroom. Join the dots Steve.”
He dropped his head into his hands, and then rubbed his forehead feverishly.
After about thirty seconds he stopped, snapped bolt upright and banged his hands on the table. “All right you’ve got me,” he snarled. “But I ain’t done no murder. I had nothing to do with killing Carol or any other girl. Yes I photographed them, but it was fun like, I’m no pervert. And yes I’ll admit that I slapped Sue and Mary about but that’s it. Okay? That’s it.”
“Come on now Steve, you’ve made a start now. That’s the hardest part over. Now just get it off your chest and tell us the rest. Shall I make it easier for you.” Grace reached forward fixing his gaze with her own.
A mixture of fear and hate played across Paynton’s face.
Grace continued. “I think as Carol got older she got the courage to tell you what you had done was wrong and that she was either going to tell her mother or the police. You couldn’t afford that to happen and you realized you had to silence her once and for all.”
“No.” he shouted and banged a fist on the table “You’re twisting this. Yes I photographed her, but that’s it. I didn’t harm her like you’re saying. I didn’t fucking kill her.”
* * * * *
Hunter ‘high fived’ Grace and punched the air as they left the interview room an hour later. The interview hadn’t ended entirely as they had wanted, but they had made a pretty good start to one of many questioning sessions that would be conducted over the next thirty-six hours. Steven Paynton had fully confessed to the brutal beatings against both women and went some way to admitting he had forced Mary Bennett to have sex against her will.
Hunter knew that at least would give CPS enough evidence to consider a charge of rape.
Finally Paynton admitted taking indecent photographs of Samantha Bennett and Carol Siddons when he had been living with their mothers. But no matter how hard they had pressed they couldn’t move him on Carol’s murder. Hunter hoped that would be only a matter of time.
CHAPTER TWELVE
DAY TWENTY: 25th July
The headline ‘DEARNE MURDERS — SUSPECT HELD’ brought a smile to his lips. He’d read the storyline in the local Barnwell Chronicle several times and the thought that someone else was taking the rap for him only boosted his confidence.
He knew it would mean that those around him would be more relaxed and less suspicious, enabling him to go about his activities again without raising so much as an eyebrow.