Walker was leading the interview with Miller taking notes. “You’ve seen the newspaper reports?”
Collinson nodded. “Yes.”
“We understand you were the last resident of Meadow Woods Farm?”
“Lived there most of me life. I was born in York and me Mam and Dad had a farm near Beverley. Then when I were five, we rented Meadow Woods.”
“And it was just you and Mr and Mrs Collinson?”
“That’s right.”
“Until your mother died in …” Walker flipped open his notebook. “1985, is that correct?”
“October 24
th
. She were only fifty-two.” He looked up and Strong thought his eyes were moist.
“You were close to her weren’t you?”
“She were a lovely woman until the cancer came. At the end she were in a terrible state. She wasn’t me Mam by then.” Tears began to streak his cheeks.
“Tell us what happened after she’d gone.”
“It hit me Dad hard. He was sixty-four at the time. While me Mam were alive, he’d struggled on with the farm. I did try to help him but farming weren’t for me. I could see it were a struggle to make a living. It’s alright for those as has their own land but when you were a tenant farmer like he was …” He wiped his cheeks with both hands. “Any road, we did carry on for another five years until he died in 1990. Then I moved on myself.”
“Did your father own a Mitsubishi pick-up at any time?
“It were me Mam’s. When she became ill, me Dad used it.”
“Did you ever drive it, Mr Collinson?”
“Now and again, yes, but I had my own little Ford Fiesta.”
“And do you know what happened to the pick-up?”
“Before me Dad died, it’d clapped out. The clutch finally went in the winter before he passed on. It were due an MOT and taxing in the new year. It were knackered, so it were left in one of the old barns. Probably still there now.”
“It was,” Walker confirmed. He paused for a second as he studied the man. “When was the last time you used it?”
Collinson puffed out his cheeks. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe … that last summer, 1989. I had my own car, as I said. Me Dad were the one who always drove it after Mam died.”
“When was the last time you went into the basement, Mr Collinson?”
Walker’s question had an instant reaction on Collinson, not just the unexpected change of direction. Strong saw him colour up and appear to shake nervously. He looked down onto his lap. “That’s where you found them isn’t it?”
“So when was the last time you were in the basement?”
“He changed after Mam went. He was all withdrawn like.” He looked at Walker, tears back in his eyes again. “I’m sure he didn’t mean them any harm.”
“Who Stanley?”
“Me Dad.” He rubbed his palms nervously on his trousers. “After he’d gone, I was clearing out his stuff. And I found them.” Collinson stood up and went to the door leading to the back of the house. “I’ll show you,” he said.
Miller stood but Walker raised a calming hand and he resumed his seat. They heard Collinson’s footsteps on the stairs then into the room above them. After some shuffling around, he returned.
“I think you might be interested in these,” he said, placing two pairs of children’s shoes and four white socks carefully on the table.
All three detectives rose and surrounded Collinson to look more closely at what he’d brought downstairs with him. Strong felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach.
“Are these what I think they are?” Walker turned to the man.
Collinson nodded, then went back to his seat.
“Where did you get them?”
“I found them in a drawer in me Dad’s bedroom. They were at the back, hidden under his pyjamas. It puzzled me at first. I began to wonder if they’d had a child that had died before I came on the scene.”
“Bag these up,” Walker instructed Miller as he sat back down opposite Collinson.
“I’d never heard Mam and Dad talk about a sister, but I did wonder. Although once, when he’d had a drink one night, he started talking about how he wished he’d had a daughter. And then, I began to realise …” He looked across at Walker, eyes wide behind his glasses. “And I remembered how me Dad never used to like me going down the basement. So I went down there and had a look. There was no-one to stop me now.”
“And what did you find, Stanley?”
The atmosphere in that terraced house living room was electric. All three officers held their breath, waiting to hear what Collinson would say next.
“There were one or two old tea chests,” he continued. “My old bike I hadn’t seen for years, I thought he’d thrown it out ages before. It was dusty down there and smelled a bit but nothing else really, apart from a locked door. At first, I wondered if it was just an outside door, but then I had a second look, started working out where everything was compared to upstairs. That’s when I realised there must be a room behind. But it were locked. So I went back upstairs and started searching through me Dad’s things. And then I found this old key. I went back down again and it fitted the lock. It were a bugger to turn, but it finally did. The door was stiff but I gave it a hard shove and it opened. I remember the terrible scraping sound these small stones made that had been trapped under the bottom edge. There were no lights in there, only a couple of dim lights outside. Slowly, my eyes adjusted and I could see them. I didn’t know what they were at first, I thought they were just a couple of manikins perhaps me Mam had years ago. But then I looked closer …” The tears were streaming down his cheeks by now. “And I realised what I were seeing. I didn’t know who they were but I knew what they were.” Saliva was dribbling from Collinson’s mouth as he struggled to keep control. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he managed to say before removing his glasses, pulling out a handkerchief and burying his face in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably.
Walker looked across to Strong then to Miller. “Why don’t you have a look in the kitchen, Tim?” he said, “and make us some tea. I think we need that.”
All were silent before Miller came back after a minute. “Kettle’s on,” he said.
“Mr Collinson? Stanley?” Walker quietly prompted. “We will need to take a formal statement from you. You do understand that, don’t you?”
Collinson nodded, pulled a handkerchief from a trouser pocket and began to wipe his face.
“You will need to accompany us to Pontefract Police Station to do that.”
“Are you arresting me?”
“We would like you to come with us. But first, can you tell us what you did next?”
He put his glasses back on and his handkerchief back in his pocket. “Next?”
“Yes, Stanley, after you discovered the bodies.”
“Well I … I didn’t know what to do. I panicked. I ran back up into the living room. And then suddenly, I remembered the disappearances; earlier the year before and one about three years before that. I couldn’t remember their names but I knew they must be them little girls. I started to think about me Dad’s behaviour. When was it he first went off on one because I went down there? I tried to tie it back to events that were happening at the time. And I remembered it were just before Wimbledon got promoted to the First Division. That was 1986. I always took an interest in non-league teams when I were growing up. And a couple of years later, in 1988 when they won the Cup. I wished I’d placed a bet years before about a non-league team winning the Cup, and there they were, in the top division and Cup holders.”
Walker took a deep breath and sat forward on the settee. “Look, Stanley, this is all very interesting but what I want to know is what did you actually do about your find.”
Collinson looked slightly confused. “Oh, sorry, I … Well, after I thought for a bit, I decided the best thing to do would be to block the room up completely. That way, anyone else taking on the farm wouldn’t discover them. I mean, I didn’t know it were going to lie empty and go to rack and ruin after I left.”
Walker looked to Strong and Miller then back to Collinson. “So, just to be clear, Stanley, you took out the door and frame and blocked up the opening? With blocks?”
He nodded. “That’s right. There were some left lying around the yard and I used them. I’ve done a bit of building work before, so I left it neat and tidy.”
Walker glanced down at Miller’s notebook to make sure he had everything written down. “I don’t think we’ll bother with that tea now, Tim. We’ll have a drink back in Pontefract.” He rose to his feet and asked Collinson to do the same.
“Stanley Collinson,” he said, “I am arresting you on suspicion of perverting the course of justice. You are not obliged to say anything unless you wish to do so but whatever you say will be taken down in writing and may be given in evidence."
Collinson looked shocked.
Walker looked around the room. “Is there anything we need to do to make the house safe before we leave?”
Collinson put his hand in his pocket and pulled out some keys. “Just need to lock the front door.”
Five minutes later, all four were in the car on their way back to Pontefract, with a small detour to drop Strong off in Wakefield.
64
Monday, 25
th
December 2000
Souter was in the front passenger seat of Strong’s Mondeo as they followed Susan’s Micra. She was on a mission, Sammy with her. For Strong, the conversation was becoming awkward.
“But how the Hell did you get Mirczack to plead guilty?” Souter looked intently at his friend.
“I didn’t have any influence on the decision. That was down to his legal team. They obviously considered it was his best option.” Strong concentrated on his driving. He was uncomfortable with some of the facts that weren’t revealed in court because the guilty plea avoided a trial.
“So there was no pressure from elsewhere?”
“No idea what you’re talking about.” Strong knew that Souter suspected something. The establishment, whoever they were, definitely had influence on the defence team.
Souter took in the view of the surrounding countryside, the fields’ bare earth, the trees barren in the depths of winter. “There are rumours, you know.”
Strong had not only heard them, he was probably one of the few who knew some of the key facts. He wasn’t party to everything, he was sure of that.
His old boss, Jack Cunningham had called him a few weeks earlier and they’d met for a quiet pint in a pub well off the patch. He’d been allowed to take his pension and retire from the force. He told Strong he had a few irons in the fire as far as future work was concerned. He also spoke of Halliday. He’d retired immediately after Mirczack was charged and was in hospital a month later. The cancer was inoperable and the medical staff had given him three months. The main purpose of the meet was that Halliday wanted Strong to know some of the pressure he’d been under during those last few weeks. All he told him was in the strictest confidence. Strong was correct when he thought he’d seen a masonic handshake between Halliday and Atherton. But the lawyer’s position was only the tip of the iceberg.
The forensic findings at Luxor Grove had caused shock waves. Mirczack was certainly well-connected. Of the DNA samples that provided a positive match, several surprises had come to light. Apart from Peter Atherton, there were two prominent business men, a retired judge and an MP at least; all attendees at the special parties the girls spoke of. No names were given but Strong had a pretty good idea who they were. The MP would announce early in the New Year that he wouldn’t be seeking re-election. There were also photographs which Mirczack’s defence team used to good effect. Neither Halliday nor Cunningham had been allowed to see those.
“There are always rumours. But that’s all they are.”
“Phaw, right. And that’s why they got such light sentences.”
Strong didn’t respond.
“Come on, twelve years for two counts of murder? Compare that to the six they gave that sad bastard Collinson for perverting the course of justice. No, there was something else going on. You know there was.”
“Look, I can’t say I’m happy about it, but that’s where it is.”
They were silent for several minutes before they reached their destination.
Driving up the gravel track towards the farmyard, Susan swung her car round and drew to a halt in front of the new barn. The building where, some months ago, she had peered in through the side window. The rain had stopped but the wind buffeted the cars. Strong pulled alongside. All police hazard tape had been removed but the farmhouse was fenced off. Signs on the fencing panels advertised the services of a local demolition contractor. The farmhouse was due to be obliterated in the New Year. The old barn had already gone, a pile of ash residue from a bonfire the only evidence.
Susan was free of her plastercast but still having physiotherapy. She had won the argument with the medics that she could now drive her automatic. Stepping out into the biting wind, she drew her coat tightly around her neck. Sammy joined her. Strong and Souter did likewise. Susan opened the boot and took out the two teddy bears she’d bought earlier in the week. A label was tied around the arm of each one. She stood for a moment and studied the old decrepit building. Apart from the wind, there was no sound. No trains pounded their way past on the East Coast main line; being Christmas Day, there was no service.
Sammy linked arms with her friend and Susan blinked back a tear. Susan glanced up at Souter as he put his arm around her shoulder. Strong looked on. This was a time for Susan. This was something she had to do.
Once she was ready, Susan walked towards the fence, Sammy and Souter supporting her. On her own, she took one further step, bent down and carefully placed both bears in front of the house as near as she could get. With red ribbons, she tied both bears in place. She stood again and bowed her head. Strangely, the wind dropped as she said a silent prayer and wiped away a tear.
After a minute, Souter and Strong stepped up on either side of her. “I’m sorry,” they heard her say softly.
“You did everything you could, Susan,” Strong said. “If it hadn’t been for you, they would still be undiscovered and no one would ever have known what happened to them.”