Blind Fury (6 page)

Anna recounted how, after a lengthy talk to Langton, the girl had said she was certain the victim had been a temp in Welsh’s office a year or so previously. Langton had checked back and discovered that their victim had indeed been working for Welsh and had been sent to him by an agency. They then brought Welsh in for an interview. He was, Anna explained, polished and cool, and had an answer for everything. All they had was the girl’s statement. Welsh had dismissed the accusations as ridiculous and maintained that, as he had recently closed his company, she was simply trying to implicate him in a crime with which he had absolutely no connection.

“So old Langton reckoned he was going to jump the country?”

“Yes and no. It wasn’t that—he kept on saying that it was a gut reaction and we now had to delve into Welsh’s life for clues.”

“What did the girl say he’d done, apart from fire her?” Barolli stuffed the coffee cup down beside his seat.

“She said he had come on to her and she had been smitten with him. He had invited her to a couple of dinner parties, and she was really a bit overawed by him, but when he asked her to stay over after one of these dinners, she refused. Her reason was that she’d had a lot of wine. He was polite, saying he would drive her home, which he did. Then, for a long time afterward, he was cool toward her. She said he hardly acknowledged her at work, and it was very distressing.”

They were driving in the middle lane, Anna not going over the speed limit. Barolli complained about the speeding vehicles passing them, and then he patted the dashboard, asking how long she had owned the Mini, how much she’d paid for it, and did she find the automatic easier than the gearshift. He had an annoying habit of asking her a question and then answering it himself. He felt that with a car that could go over a hundred, it was better to have a shift gear than automatic, and if he was given the choice, he would go for a shift, but then he wouldn’t consider buying a Mini, as he liked something more substantial.

“Did you choose this color?”

“Yes.”

“What color would you call it?”

“Navy blue, Paul, and the upholstery is leather.”

“I like two-tone cars, white and black.” He waved his hand at the signpost indicating the mileage to the service station and suggested that she pull into the London Gateway Services so he could get her a coffee. Anna said she didn’t want one but agreed to drive in and wait when Barolli said he needed to use the toilet. She parked and watched him entering the service station, irritated as she saw him pause to buy a newspaper and a chocolate bar.

Over on the far side was the large lorry parking section. Strange to think that this was where Margaret Potts came night after night to pick up johns, Anna thought. Eventually, Barolli returned with a packet of crisps as well as the chocolate bar. As they drove past the garage forecourt and headed onto the slip road back to the motorway, Anna exclaimed, “Look! Can you believe it?”

Standing hitching a ride was a teenage girl. She wore boots, a miniskirt, and a fur-hooded anorak. Anna drew up beside her and lowered the passenger window, leaning across Barolli to say, “You shouldn’t be doing this. Haven’t you seen the warning posters?”

The girl gave her the finger and moved away as Anna inched the car forward. Barolli glared at the girl, who glared back at him as he shouted, “You know, two girls have been found murdered not far from here. You’re taking a big risk, love.”

“I’m waitin’ for me dad.”

Barolli muttered under his breath, then said, “Just you be careful.”

The girl stalked away, and there was nothing they could do. They both remained silent as they headed onto the motorway. Barolli opened his bag of crisps. He shook the bag toward Anna, seeing if she wanted one, but she didn’t. It made her grit her teeth as he crunched one crisp after another, letting crumbs fly everywhere. She was amazed at how much noise he could make eating as he delved into the pack. At the same time, he was looking over the newspaper he had on his knee.

A short time later, they spotted the flapping yellow scene of crime ribbons.

“You know the van driver? This is only a short distance from the service station, so why didn’t he take a piss there?” Barolli wondered as Anna saw a fragment of crisp fly out of his mouth and land on the dashboard.

“Maybe we should bring him in again,” she suggested.

Barolli, leaning back on the headrest, closed his eyes.

“Maybe.” He yawned. “Right, carry on about this Cameron Welsh guy.”

But Anna remained silent as she concentrated on driving, hoping he would fall asleep.

“What else did the girl tell Langton about him?” Barolli prompted her.

“Just that he had been cool toward her and it got to her. I think she also claimed that she was infatuated, and because he was totally ignoring her, she said she sort of became a bit obsessed by him. She admitted it all, and according to Langton, since she was honest about herself, she didn’t come across as someone determined to cause trouble for Cameron Welsh.”

Barolli yawned again. “So what was it?”

Anna described that at the lengthy interview, the girl said that one evening a few weeks after the cooling-off incident, she was waiting for a bus after work and Cameron drew up to offer her a lift. She got into his car. He asked if she’d like a drink, and feeling euphoric, she went with him to a wine bar. When they left, she asked if he could drive her home, and he suddenly became angry and told her to get out and find her own way. The next minute, he was slapping her around the face, hurting her, and then he banged her head against the dashboard and her nose started to bleed. She began screaming, and a passerby stopped and rapped on the driver’s side window. Apparently, Cameron got out and told the man that it was all a misunderstanding and it was over. The passerby looked toward her and asked if she was all right; she had a handkerchief pressed to her bleeding nose. At the same time Cameron was apologizing to her, saying over and over that he hadn’t meant to slap her and he was very sorry.

They drove off, and Cameron was like a different person, very apologetic, and when they drew up outside her flat, he opened her door for her and helped her get out of his car. He kept on saying that he didn’t know what had come over him, and that he had never hit a girl before, and asked if she could forgive him. He also said she could take a few days off work. And then he drove off.

Anna suddenly remembered the girl’s name: Hannah Lyle. Hannah had gone on to tell them that she had taken a couple of days off work, and when she returned, there was extra money in her paycheck. Cameron was not in the office, and Hannah had taken the opportunity to ask one of the other girls what she knew about him. It was then that she learned about a couple of other young women who had worked for him, and it was known that he had slapped them around, too. That was probably the reason why the new young temp had never returned, the girl said, although she’d been working there only a couple of weeks. The pair had discussed the temp; although Hannah had not known her well, she had liked her, and had wondered why she left so suddenly. Hannah subsequently left the company, and almost a year later, she’d been watching a television program requesting information about a murder victim when she became certain it was the girl she remembered from the office.

“What happened then—Langton brought him in?”

“Yes, and at first let him go—but you know him. He had this gut feeling we’d found the right guy, but we had nothing to go on apart from the statement from Hannah Lyle. He started to dig around, finding out as much as possible about Cameron Welsh’s background.”

Barolli leaned forward with eyes closed to lower the air-conditioning, which annoyed Anna, as it was a perfect temperature for her.

“Go on,” he prompted.

Anna continued, relating that there were no police records of Welsh and not so much as an outstanding parking ticket. The man was a model citizen who paid his taxes, and his company was in good shape, as were his personal accounts, in which there was over a quarter of a million pounds. They went on searching his background details but found nothing incriminating. Without any evidence to back up his hunch, Langton decided to interview anyone who could give them an insight into Cameron’s character. Anna took a deep breath, remembering how frustrating it had felt.

“To be honest, the team began to feel they were wasting valuable time, but then some of the interviews started to add up, especially from—”

Barolli interrupted her. “His family?”

“No. Both parents were deceased. It was a couple of fellow students and employers from before he opened his own company. One man in particular said he had never liked him and felt that Cameron was complicated and a compulsive liar, with a disturbing attitude toward women. This was also implied by everyone questioned. Apparently, he was brought up in South Africa, and his father was violent toward their servants. He was ex-military and strict with Cameron. His mother, however, was a beautiful ex-debutante type who married beneath her; we got all this from a student Cameron had been at university with. The other guy said he had liked Cameron at first but then got put off him as, when drinking, Cameron would become belligerent and often morose. From their conversations, it sounded as if Cameron’s mother had protected him from his father’s abuse, but when he was twelve, she ran off with a close friend of her husband, and this had a traumatic effect on the boy.”

“Some friend,” Barolli commented.

“Which one?”

“His university pal. Why did he do that to Cameron? Just dump him because he had problems.”

“Oh, right. In fact, it was nothing to do with that. They fell out due to Cameron making a pass at his girlfriend. She had become afraid of him, so the two boys argued about it—and Cameron ignored him from that time on.”

Anna recalled the interview when she had watched in amazement as Langton used the information he had gleaned about the mother-son relationship, embroidering on the facts, implying that the relationship had been an incestuous one. The suggestion had enraged Cameron, who, up until that point, had been controlled. For a moment he had looked as if he would explode, but then he had fought to control his anger. He did swear at Langton, insisting that the detective had no right to bring up his mother in connection with why he was being questioned. His face had distorted with rage, but yet again he managed to retain control, although his hands had been clenched the whole time. He maintained that he had no relationship whatsoever with his mother, and that he had not had any contact with her, even when she had begged to see him; nor had he gone to her funeral.

“It was a real lesson, watching Langton open Cameron up, because he switched from asking about his relationship with his mother to implying that he had subsequently become close to his father . . . which released more vitriol. He seemed unable to stop spewing out how much he had detested him, how he’d spent his formative years living in fear of him, in a country he hated, and it wasn’t until he had watched him dying of cancer that he felt free of his father’s domination, returning to live in England with his mother’s parents.”

However, although the grandparents had taken him in, Cameron’s trials were not over, for they showed him little or no affection. His grandmother had always been against her daughter’s marriage, and being forced into caring for the grandson she had never previously met had created difficulties.

During the interview, as Cameron went into lengthy detail about his background, he required hardly any prodding from Langton. What emerged was the supremely overconfident, egotistical side of the man’s character; he claimed that he had learned to hide his feelings and to portray himself as whatever his grandparents needed to form an attachment to him. They were never aware that he hated them as much as he hated his parents. When they died, Cameron had inherited a considerable amount of money, investments, and properties, and so careless was he in boasting about his wealth that it led to Langton gaining search warrants for two properties that, until Cameron had mentioned them, they had not been privy to his owning. As a result, they discovered the crucial evidence to eventually charge him with the murders.

Barolli was fast asleep, and Anna drove on in silence through the changing landscape, waking him only when they approached the Barfield prison boundary. They had to show their warrant cards and the fax from the prison to the officers at the gates and were instructed to park in the staff section of the car park.

Barfield was one of the few privately owned prisons. A modern build, it was a massive, sprawling place. They were met by an officer and led to the administration section and then through to the governor, who was waiting in his office to offer them tea or coffee. Both Anna and Barolli refused, saying they were eager to meet with Welsh as soon as possible. The governor, Jeremy Hardwick, turned out to be a tall, balding man with disconcertingly large ears, which he was overly fond of pulling at the lobes. He also had a fresh feel to him, as if he were athletic, rising to his feet and shaking their hands vigorously.

He read Anna’s letter of introduction and asked for more details, as to meet with Prisoner 6678905 would entail them crossing out of the main prison into the high-security smaller prison.

Anna outlined the reason why they were there, even though she had already given the details over the phone. However, it gave her the opportunity to ask about Cameron and his present behavior. The governor was not exactly evasive, but before saying anything, he suggested that Cameron remain in his cell throughout the interview and that they talk to him through the bars, as the cells in the secure unit did not have the usual cell doors.

“It’s just a precaution,” he added.

“Do you think he could be dangerous if the cell remained open?” Anna asked.

“I doubt it, but it is necessary we take every precaution. And as you are a very attractive woman, I want you protected.” Hardwick gave her a kindly smile.

“So you think he is dangerous?” Anna wanted to be clear about this.

“No. It is, as I said, just a precaution—and I will also have to request that the other inmates in the secure unit are locked in their cells. Usually, they have free access to their open spaces, and we do have some problematic inmates in there. There are four officers on duty at all times, and the security level is tight.”