Faraday 02 Network Virus (26 page)

“
Oh, no. If he really did cause Joanne’s death I want him to pay for it. And, if it’s my evidence that condemns him, so be it.”

So Paulson left. Now at last he felt he was approaching the truth about Joanne de Billiere’s death.

- 31 -

It took Charlotte until late afternoon to obtain the search warrant she needed to descend on Charles Hawardine. As the afternoon progressed she pulled in the teams who had been out looking for Tracey. She hoped they wouldn’t be needed any more after this afternoon. So, when they arrived at Stokewell House, there were ten of them in four cars, including the five members of the CID and the photographer.

She instructed the other vehicles to remain out of sight of the camera on the left gatepost as she drove up on her own and stopped in front of the gates. Then she rang the bell.

“
It’s Charlotte Faraday again, Mr Hawardine. I’m afraid I have a few more questions for you.”

“
For you, Charlotte, it’s a pleasure,” replied the metallic voice.

She thought his pleasure wasn’t likely to last for long. She was quite slow in getting back into her car so that the gates had opened wide before she entered. Then, as she moved forward, two of the most energetic young constables ran forward and placed large wedges under the gates to prevent them closing. The queue of four cars drove up the winding drive and on to the gravel forecourt.

Hawardine was waiting for them outside his front door and, as she expected, there was no longer any indication of pleasure in his voice.

“
What is the meaning of this?”

Paulson went up the steps and handed him a copy of the piece of paper they’d obtained from the court. “This is a search warrant to look at the whole of your property. The warrant tells you that you will be compensated if we incorrectly damage any of your belongings.” He walked straight past the owner as the man looked at the piece of paper. His team of two beefy young constables followed him.

“
This is an outrage,” complained Hawardine as he trailed behind them into the house.

As planned, Greg Mallinson, armed with a copy of the warrant, led his team of three on a search of the outbuildings, while Charlotte with John Prendergast, Bobbie Howell and the photographer set off down the path to the boathouse. In only a few minutes they entered the copse near the river and, as expected, found the door to the boathouse was locked.

John was carrying a small crowbar ready for this expected obstacle but, as Charlotte stood back for him to attack the door, he put it down and said, “Just a minute, ma’am.”

There was a plant pot to the left of the foot of the steps and, when he moved it aside, there was a key-ring lying there with a couple of keys on it. He looked carefully at them, chose one and found it opened the door immediately.

“
That was bright of you, John,” she said appreciatively.

He grinned. “My old mum always did that to save her forgetting her keys. I guessed the bloke wouldn’t be too keen on walking all the way back up to the house if he realised he’d forgotten his keys. Also,” he pointed out, “there aren’t likely to be many people wandering round here looking for a way into the place - except us, of course.”

Charlotte led the way up the stairs and opened the door straight ahead into the control room. She paused to press down some switches and the whole place sprang into brilliant light. The four of them stopped and gazed in astonishment through the glass wall into the studio bedroom.

“
Well, I never. What a place.” That was Bobbie.

“
Blimey,” said the cameraman. “Look at that equipment. It must have cost thousands.”

Charlotte turned to him. I want you to photograph every single thing in these two rooms, getting them into proportion. Bobbie, you stay with him in case he needs your help in any way.”

“
She’ll also be useful for scale,” he said.

“
John, you come with me. I want to see what’s downstairs.”

They returned to the entrance and then went down the steps to river bank level. As expected, the other key opened the door to the boathouse proper. Charlotte was hoping this was where Hawardine was keeping Tracey, but in this she was to be disappointed. The whole place was completely empty. The concrete ramps which should have had boats on them were bare. There wasn’t even a tackle cupboard or a storage bin in the place. This level was obviously disused.

“
Let’s look outside.” Charlotte led the way round the building. The river frontage took up one side of the building. The water level was down at the moment and there was just one small, open rowing boat tied up high and dry. Charles Hawardine clearly wasn’t a boating man.

Round the other side was a lean-to presumably intended for equipment. For a moment Charlotte’s hopes rose, but the door was unlocked and, when they opened it, the place was empty. There was no sign of Tracey having been hidden here. Perhaps the others would have had more luck up at the house or in the outbuildings.

She and John returned to the door at the entrance to the studio. When they got there they encountered Hawardine hurrying down the path towards them.

“
You’re in deep trouble, my girl. Now you’re guilty of breaking and entering into my boathouse.” He paused with his mobile phone in his hand. He punched in a number and listened. Very quickly he had a response.

“
I’ve run her to earth now,” he shouted. “She’s been breaking into my boathouse. Here - you’d better speak to her yourself.” He handed the phone to Charlotte.

“
Faraday,” roared Lasham’s voice. “What the hell are you doing invading Charles Hawardine’s private property?”

“
At the moment I’m having photographs taken of a studio he’s set up to take pornographic films.”

“
What the hell does that mean? And call me ‘sir’!”

“
It means that your good friend Charles Hawardine has been interviewing twelve-year-old schoolgirls, instructing them to strip off all their clothes and pose in the nude on a massive satin-covered bed with a view to taking paedophiliac films of them in various sexual acts and selling them to his equally perverted contacts. Can I ask whether you’re one of them, sir?”

“
No I am not. I hope you have the evidence to back up those allegations.”

“
I do, and I am currently gathering more. Furthermore one of these young girls has been kidnapped and has been missing for five days and your dear friend is one of the prime suspects - sir.”

“
Huh.” There was a pause. “Put me back on to Hawardine.”

Charlotte handed the mobile over, turned on her heel and mounted the stairs to the studio where the photographer was just finishing.

“
Got all you need, Andrew?”

“
Yes, ma’am. This lot will make an interesting record.” He started packing his camera and other equipment into the steel-bound case he took everywhere with him.

“
Right,” she said. “Let’s go, then. There’s nothing else to keep us here.”

The four of them descended the stairs. John locked both doors and was about to return the keys to where he found them but Charlotte stopped him.

“
I want to keep hold of those, John. Please put them in an evidence bag and label them accordingly.” She turned to DC Howell. “Bobbie, can you ring the station and tell them to send a carpenter down here. I want to have the door sealed to the upper floor.”

As they emerged from the copse Hawardine was waiting for them. “Can you please tell me what is happening, Charlotte?”

“
Certainly. Charles Hawardine, I am arresting you on suspicion of committing offences against under-age persons in contravention of the Sexual Offences Act 2003.”

“
What!” The man seemed completely surprised by his arrest.

Charlotte gave him the statutory warning. “Provided you give me your undertaking that you will accompany me peaceably to Torquay police station for questioning I will not find it necessary to handcuff you. Do you agree?”

He nodded. The self-confidence seemed to have been knocked out of him and he was now just a big, flabby, grey-faced individual. “Can I ring my solicitor?”

“
Please do. Tell him to meet us at the police station in an hour’s time. You can also have a brief talk in my presence to your chauffeur/handyman about anything he needs to do to care for the estate in your absence. You should make it clear to him that he is not to enter the boathouse or permit anybody else to enter it until I have had the seals removed from the doors. Now, please follow me.”

She set off up the path, leaving John to stand guard until the carpenter arrived. Hawardine, after making his phone call to his solicitor, trailed behind her. Bobbie Howell brought up the rear. When they reached the front of the house the others were there. Nothing of note had been found by Paulson or Mallinson.

“
Have the grounds been searched?”

It appeared not.

“
OK. Greg, I want you and your team to walk the grounds to see if there are any other buildings or possible hiding-places.” She turned to Hawardine. “How many acres have you got?”

His reply was almost absent-minded. “About forty-five, mostly wooded. But you won’t find any hiding-places out there.”

“
Is it all fenced?”

“
Yes.”

“
Well, it shouldn’t take you more than an hour to cover everything thoroughly, so you should be through before dark. Keep your car to drop off the other two on your way back and you can bring John Prendergast with you.”

The three men departed none too cheerfully.

“
Now, where’s Mr Hawardine’s chauffeur?”

The man presented himself and Hawardine gave him his instructions about caring for the property. Charlotte told him about not entering the boathouse.

“
You’ll be spending one night at least in police cells, Mr Hawardine, and you’ll probably appear in court in the morning. We won’t oppose bail being granted providing your passport is lodged with us while you await trial.”

“
Oh.” He shook his head as though to clear it. “Can I pack an overnight bag?”

“
OK. Stafford, can you go with him to check he doesn’t do anything silly?”

They departed and Charlotte released the other police to go off-duty. She waited until Paulson and Hawardine returned then they departed for the station and the late night questioning session.

- 32 -

Both Charlotte and Stafford were in before eight on Wednesday morning, less than ten hours after they’d finished with Hawardine the previous night.

“
We still don’t seem to be any closer to finding young Tracey,” Charlotte lamented. “Charles Hawardine denies absolutely knowing anything about her disappearance and I think I believe him. After all, it doesn’t make sense that he would imprison her since there doesn’t appear to be any doubt that the girl willingly allowed herself to be undressed and filmed. It seems that the money she was offered was all the incentive she needed to take her clothes off.”

Paulson nodded. “I agree. It’s back to the drawing board on that one. Meanwhile Sean Hendon was brought in last night. Apparently there was quite a punch-up when he was apprehended so at least we can charge him with resisting arrest.”

“
We’ll have to interview him this morning, as if we haven’t got enough on our plate. I’ve got to be in court at ten with Hawardine.”

“
Well, shall we get on with it straightaway?”

So ten minutes later they were seated in interview room one opposite Sean Hendon. One burly constable sat beside him and another stood behind his chair. Charlotte thought he looked the rough sort of individual that you wouldn’t expect to find in a genteel place like Torquay.

Stafford started the questioning. “Sean, my lad, you’re in deep trouble. Not only have you been observed committing an affray and causing grievous bodily harm to an individual, but I’m told you also violently resisted arrest last night. I can throw the book at you and I’d say you’re looking at somewhere between five and ten years inside.”

Hendon rolled his eyes but said nothing.

“
However,” said Paulson in his most placatory tone, “we think you may have been the victim of somebody else’s conspiracy to cause harm and now is your opportunity to give us enough information for us to suggest to the court that a degree of leniency is practised in your case.”

“
Whacha mean?”

“
Well, in the first place, do you know the identity of the man you and your mates were trying to seriously injure?”

“
Yeah. ‘Course I do.”

“
So what’s his name?”

Hendon cast his eyes around the room without success. “I forget.”

“
And what had this bloke done which meant that he should be given such rough treatment?”

”’
E’s a bloody pervert, isn’t ‘e?”

“
What does that mean?”

“
Well, ‘e’s a pervert.” He had a sudden brainwave. “The bloke’s done it with little girls.”

“
Where did he do it with these little girls?”

“
I dunno.” He shrugged. “Round ‘ere, I expect.”

“
Sean,” said Paulson. “You don’t seem to know much about this man you were trying to severely injure. Who told you he was a pervert?”

“
It’s all over town, isn’t it? Everybody knows about it.”

“
No they don’t,” said Charlotte. “The information hasn’t been released to the public. Even his neighbours knew nothing about it until your mob turned up and started shouting their heads off and beating him up.”

The inspector shook his head. “Sean, my son, you’d better realise you’re in deep shit. It’s obvious you’ve been set up by somebody to do his dirty work for him. You’re going to be put away for years and years and, unless you tell us about it, this bloke is going to get off scot-free. So you’d be sensible to tell us who it was.”