Death By Dangerous (23 page)

Anderson's appearance had improved considerably. Not just because they were getting somewhere; Hussain, unprepared to take more risks, had called the prison to demand his client be put on full seg. No governor wanted a death in custody on their hands.

As a result, the strain on Anderson had decreased markedly. Nothing to do but sit in his cell studying the case papers and some law books Adey had sent in.

‘What have you got for me?' Anderson asked as soon as he was in the booth.

Adey noticed the tram lines on his neck left by the shiv. ‘Plenty,' she replied. ‘A man called Michael Doran changed his name by deed poll to, wait for it, Mohammed Mohammed, after converting to Islam in 2009.'

‘Doran? I know that name.'

‘You were part of the team that prosecuted him in 2003 for a series of horrendous stranger rapes. Dragged women off the street at night.'

‘Always in a graveyard?'

‘That's the guy. He'd knock them unconscious first.'

‘I remember, it was horrific. Southern cemetery, just off the Parkway, before it turns into the M56. They'd come round and discover not only had they been raped but they'd had their nipples and vulva sliced off.'

‘Yes. He got life with a minimum rec of ten years.'

‘He can't still be serving – he's not wearing prison issue?'

‘That's right, he's on remand. Believe it or not, he got paroled last year, claimed he was a changed man, had found Allah. Got arrested fleeing the scene of another rape on January 31
^st
this year. Been awaiting trial ever since.'

‘That's a week after the crash!'

‘Makes me shudder to think what might've happened in your cell last week,' said Hussain. ‘He committed that offence whilst out on licence for a life sentence. He's never getting out now, so he had nothing to lose by killing you.'

No one spoke as they all digested that chilling thought.

Anderson broke the silence: ‘What do you know about his new matter?'

‘Only what I've told you,' Adey replied. ‘I can't get anything because it's pre-trial, but leave it with me.'

‘OK,' said Hussain. ‘What now? Mohammed is never going to admit to anything.'

Anderson was already on it. ‘We find another route. Write to the CPS asking if the police hold any intelligence that links Mohammed aka Doran to the crash. Or to me. Or any prior intention to do me harm.' Anderson was thinking out loud: ‘We have to find something new, a link. We need fresh evidence to get leave to appeal.'

Hussain leaned across the table and patted Anderson's arm. ‘Hang in there, my friend, we'll find it.'

Taylor groaned when he read the letter from the CPS. He felt uncomfortable at any mention of this case. Wished it would just go away. ‘Have you seen this?' he asked Waters.

‘Yes, gov. Got to give his lawyers full marks for effort.'

Taylor read an extract out loud: ‘Do the police hold any intelligence on Mohammed Mohammed, aka Michael Doran, that links him to the accident on 24
^th
January or to John Anderson?'

‘I've already run a check. There's nothing and obviously we got nowt on our file.'

‘Poor bastard. Says Mohammed attacked him and claimed responsibility for the crash.'

‘Like that would stand up in court!' Waters scoffed. ‘Smacks of desperation to me.'

‘I remember the case, only just out of uniform. He's a real sicko.'

‘Me too,' said Waters. ‘Can't believe he got parole. He's back in now, thank God. And from what I hear the evidence is so strong on this new matter, he won't see the light of day again.'

‘Who's the victim?'

‘Eighteen-year-old girl, been out celebrating her birthday, apparently. Chopped her bits off.'

Taylor grimaced. ‘I'd better run this by Armstrong.'

He felt guilty knocking on the DCI's door. He didn't need his input; he wanted to test him, his own colleague – a superior. Not normally Taylor's style.

‘Come.' Detective Chief Inspector Armstrong looked up from his desk. ‘What is it, Taylor?'

‘Had some correspondence about the Anderson case,' he replied, passing the letter to his boss. ‘Thought I should dot the i's and cross the t's.'

‘So what do you want from me?' Armstrong snapped, irritated at being drawn into the disclosure process.

‘Just checking we haven't got anything on this guy, Doran, that links him to Anderson, other than the fact Anderson prosecuted him in '03?'

‘Is there anything on the file?'

‘No, gov.'

‘Anything from NCIS on the computer?'

‘No.'

‘Well, there's your answer.'

Such a firm response put his mind at rest. ‘Right, thanks, Chief. I'll say we are not aware of any intelligence.' Taylor opened the door to leave.

‘Hang on, Mark.'

Taylor stopped.

‘Better put we do not
hold
any intelligence.'

Taylor's mouth went dry. ‘Why not say
not aware
? Are we? I mean, what's the difference?'

‘You know lawyers. They try and pick everything apart. Best to be precise.'

‘Yes, gov.' That didn't answer Taylor's question.

Now he was deeply troubled.

Anderson had been pacing his cell all morning waiting for the legal visit at 2pm. He prayed their letter to the CPS had turned up something.

Hussain gave him the bad news. ‘Sorry, John, they said no intelligence held on Doran.'

Anderson sighed.

‘But Adey has something.'

‘You're not going to like it,' she said anxiously. ‘Doran's current matter. I did some digging and I've got details on the modus operandi.'

‘Go on,' said Anderson.

‘She was drugged first. In a club. Rohypnol.'

‘Rohypnol?' Anderson sat back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment. ‘Of course! Rope – it's street slang for Rohypnol.
I gave you enough rope to hang yourself.
Doran drugged me.'

Hussain was ahead of him: ‘I reckon so – slipped it into your coffee in Starbucks. You flake out on the drive home.'

‘And it wipes the memory,' Anderson added. ‘But what about Butt?'

‘We can't work that out. Maybe she administered the drug somehow, but no drink container of any sort was recovered from the vehicle – we've been back over the search records.'

‘So how do we prove it?'

‘That's the bit you're not going to like,' said Hussain. ‘A blood sample was taken at the hospital and tested for alcohol, and a standard screening for drugs, cocaine, etc., which of course were negative. But no test for Rohypnol. Why would they? And no one thought to preserve the sample.'

Anderson shook his head.

Hussain continued: ‘Rohypnol is only detectable in the blood for seventy-two hours max, so—'

‘No point giving a sample now.'

‘Correct.'

‘OK then,' said Anderson, remaining positive. ‘We bang in grounds of appeal with what we've got.'

‘Which is what?'

‘Doran attacking me − and the Rohypnol.'

‘John,' said Hussain gently. ‘That's just a theory. It's not evidence. Leave to appeal will be refused.'

‘What about Sandra Granger, can't we argue she lied in the box?'

‘That was a matter for the jury, not the Court of Appeal. You know that,' said Adey. ‘And when you read the transcript, which is what the judges will have, it doesn't come across like that.'

Hussain agreed. ‘You had to be in court to see she was lying.'

‘Then we go to London and renew it before the full court. Try and turn something up once we're there.'

‘Come off it, John. If we go with nothing we will lose, and we can never come back. Let's wait.'

‘Wait for what, Tahir? It's now or never. Besides, I can't take much more.'

‘Then we use Connor. It's weak but at least it's something new.'

‘He's really prepared to stand up in court and say he lied?'

‘More mistaken. He'll look an idiot but escape a perjury charge. Like I said, it's not great but it gets us into court.'

Out of options, Anderson agreed.

‘What other witnesses will we require at the hearing?' asked Adey, ever the practical member of the team.

‘Just the OIC, I suppose,' Anderson replied.

‘I want West,' said Hussain. ‘I don't trust that man, never have. I think he knows something.'

‘He was just a character witness, what do I tell him?' asked Adey.

‘Flatter him,' suggested Anderson. ‘Tell him the court places great store by his opinion of me. He'll lap it up.'

‘All right then,' said Hussain, bringing the meeting to a close and trying to sound positive, despite the hopelessness of the appeal. ‘See you in London.'

Anderson took both their hands and held them firmly. ‘Thank you.'

Taylor read the letter again.
Requested to attend the Court of Appeal
. Even though the single judge had refused leave, they were still going to renew the appeal before the full court. In other words, they had nothing.

He couldn't get Anderson out of his head. What he must be going through.

‘Are you all right, gov?' Waters asked, peering over his computer screen. ‘Seem very quiet today?'

Taylor suddenly stood up and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. ‘Back in an hour.'

‘Where you going?'

‘If anyone asks, say you haven't seen me.'

‘Hello, Sandra love. How've you been?'

‘Oh, hello, Mr Taylor. I mean Detective Inspector. Come in. Would you like a brew?'

‘Yes, please.'

Tom Granger joined Taylor in the lounge whilst Sandra made the tea.

‘How are you coping, Tom?'

‘You know. Up and down.' He glanced around the room. ‘House is so quiet now.' His vacant gaze came back to Taylor. ‘You got kids?'

‘Two girls. A right load of trouble.'

They smiled weakly.

Sandra put the mugs down and joined her husband on the settee.

‘How are you managing, Sandra?'

‘It's the anger. I can't get rid.'

‘I know,' Taylor replied.

‘Bet you see a lot of bereaved families in your job?'

‘Yes I do, but I've got no answers. Suppose you just have to try not to become bitter. Must be hard, I know.' He took a sip. ‘I wanted to tell you that he's appealing. It's on Friday, in London.'

Sandra looked at her husband.

He filled the sudden silence: ‘Never been to the Smoke.' Then, reflecting further: ‘Do we go?'

‘There's no need, you're not required to give evidence.'

‘Oh, I see. Has he got a chance?'

‘Not really. He needs some fresh evidence. Like someone to admit they lied in the first trial. He's just clutching at straws.'

This time Tom gave Sandra a furtive glance. Now she avoided eye contact.

‘Sandra?' asked Taylor gently. ‘Your evidence was very important in the trial. Might've tipped the balance.'

She watched Taylor now.

‘Yours was the only direct evidence that Anderson was asleep.'

‘I'm glad I could help. Did what I could,' she replied.

‘I remember when I came here and took your statement, you'd already been told Anderson was asleep.'

‘What you trying to say?'

‘I wondered whether that clouded your memory? Whether you did actually see him asleep?'

‘What? You're saying I lied?' Defensiveness turned to anger. ‘That bastard killed my Molly.'

‘I know,' Taylor said softly. ‘But it wouldn't be right, to Molly's memory, if it wasn't the truth.'

‘But he were guilty?'

‘Maybe. But once we cut corners, make things up, the wrong people start getting convicted. Got to be done right.'

Sandra jumped up. ‘He was driving the bloody car, weren't he? I think you should go.'

Tom stood up and placed a hand on his wife's shoulder. ‘Sandra, hang on a minute, love.'

‘I want him out, now.'

‘OK, I'm sorry. I'm going.'

Taylor realised his visit had been a big mistake.

‘Hello, Mother,' said Anderson. ‘This is a nice surprise. Dad not with you?'

Still adjusting to the surroundings, she replied, ‘You know what he's like.'

‘Regrettably, I do.'

‘He doesn't know I'm here.'

‘Very brave of you,' he said.

‘Is it awful, John?'

‘No, it's not that bad,' he lied.

‘John.' She paused. ‘I thought you should know. Your father's stopped paying the school fees.'

‘What? Just when the boys need stability more than ever?'

‘I'm sorry. This appeal was the final straw. He sees it as another embarrassment.'

‘I never even wanted them to go to private school.' Anderson longed to be on the outside, so he could help manage the transition, look after them.

‘I'm so sorry.' Ashamed of her husband, she changed the subject. ‘Anyway, I also wanted to wish you luck with the appeal. I'll be thinking of you.'

‘You're not coming?'

‘Depends. Your father thinks it might look worse for him if we're not there.'

‘It's always about him, isn't it?'

Nothing she could say in his defence.

‘You know what, this place gives you a lot of time to think. I've realised, I just don't like the man.'

‘John!' She placed a hand on his arm. ‘He's your father.'

‘He's a cold, selfish man. Why do you stay with him?'

All she could say was, ‘I'm too old for all that.'

‘And worst of it is, I'm just like him.'

‘Don't you say that. You're nothing like him. He wanted you to be, and you've spent your life letting him mould you.' She cupped his cheek. ‘Making the same mistakes I did.'

‘Oh, Mum. I've really buggered my life up.'

‘While there's breath in your body, it's not too late.'

Anderson managed a smile. ‘Thanks, Mum.'