No Questions Asked Read online

  ‘Yes! That’s exactly what I’m saying. I didn’t know it was there and I didn’t kill Bradley!’

  ‘Tell us why we should believe you, Gary?’

  ‘Because I’m telling you the truth!’ said Gary. He started to cry. ‘I could never have laid a finger on him. He was my son. I couldn’t tell him he was because it would’ve hurt Debbie so much and I know I was a bastard for using Lucy the way I did but there’s always been something between Lucy and me’.

  ‘Not enough to leave your marriage behind for’ said Rebecca.

  ‘I’ve told you that I accept that I was a bastard and yes, I did use Lucy. But what we had wasn’t dirty or sordid. We had something special. We had a son together’.

  ‘A son who never knew you were his father’.

  ‘I know, I know’.

  ‘A son who just thought you were a cool guy for taking an interest in him’.

  ‘Alright, alright, I should’ve told him’.

  ‘Well it’s a bit late now’.

  ‘There seems to be quite a list of things you should’ve done but didn’t, Gary’ said Ollie. ‘As well as a few things you did do but shouldn’t have. Do you want to help yourself by voluntarily adding murder to that list?’

  Gary wiped his face with his hands. ‘I didn’t kill him’.

  ‘You had the time, you had the opportunity and you’ve been hiding one of his belongings since it happened’ Ollie went on. ‘Now why don’t you put an end to all this and tell us what happened when you went to meet Bradley?’

  There was a knock at the door and Rebecca and Ollie went outside to speak to Joe Alexander.

  ‘The DNA results regarding the paternity of Bradley Thompson are in, ma’am’ said Joe. ‘And Gary Mitchell was definitely not Bradley’s father’.

  Jeff came down from the CCTV viewing room and joined them in the corridor. Joe filled him in on the paternity test results and the fact that no traces of Gary Mitchell’s DNA had been on the body itself.

  ‘Well the last bit is easily explained’ said Rebecca. ‘He was using gloves’.

  ‘I say we don’t tell him about the paternity, sir’ said Ollie. ‘I say that we don’t tell him until we’ve finished questioning him and are ready to charge him’.

  ‘I agree with Ollie, sir’ said Rebecca.

  ‘And if you were to charge him right now?’

  ‘We could do it on the basis of he had the opportunity and he’s been lying about having spoken to Bradley last Sunday morning’ said Rebecca.

  ‘And then there’s the rucksack, sir’ said Ollie. ‘Why did Mitchell have it hidden away like that if he wasn’t hiding it for some reason?’

  ‘I accept that what we’ve got so far all points to Gary being the killer’ said Jeff who nevertheless had serious doubts about his friend’s guilt. ‘But where’s his motive? If he’d befriended Bradley like he said he had then what turned him into the lad’s murderer? You’re doing well so far but get back in there now and find me that motive’.

  ‘There doesn’t always have to be a motive for a crime to be committed, sir’ said Rebecca.

  ‘No there doesn’t DI Stockton but in the case where the victim is an eleven year-old child I’d say that there has to be some kind of motive somewhere’.

  Ollie and Rebecca went back into the interview room where Gary Mitchell looked somewhat more composed than he did before although his head was bowed and he didn’t exactly look happy. His solicitor, a portly man of indeterminable age between mid thirties and mid forties, wearing a dark brown suit, off white shirt and a lilac and cream tie, was also wearing one of those large and wide gold wedding rings that Rebecca always associated with men who did as they were told as far as women were concerned. Better not let him think for one moment that he wasn’t now shackled to her after their reception at a local hotel that was known for giving good value and discounts if you waited to book until the last minute. Rebecca thought that Mrs. Solicitor probably sulked if he was a minute late home for dinner and called him constantly if he had to go out of town on business. He looked the downtrodden type. He was probably very good at his job but at home his life would never be his own. He also had the kind of Manchester accent that suggested he’d grown up in a working class community like Wythenshawe or Cheetham Hill but had now been ordered by his wife to soften his vowels in keeping with his job and where he lived now which was more than likely somewhere like Didsbury or Hale. Rebecca came across some evil men in her job and some who didn’t deserve to live in her opinion. But she also came across many who seemed to need to grow a pair of balls where their women were concerned. The existence of the second lot really pissed her off. She’d never treat a man like he had to do as he was told or else. So why couldn’t she get one? Why couldn’t Jeff appreciate the kind of woman she was?

  ‘My client would like to make a further statement’ said the solicitor whose name was Aidan Priestley. ‘If you’re ready to listen, detectives, then he can begin’.

  ‘I think you’ll find we’re in control here, Mr. Priestley’ Ollie pointed out.

  ‘He’s aware of that, detective’ said Priestley.

  ‘Then he can begin’ said Ollie who then turned to Gary. ‘Gary? What is it you want to tell us?’

  Gary raised his head and took a deep breath. ‘It’s true that I did go and meet Bradley last Sunday morning and that we had had a row over the phone. Bradley was a great kid and he was bright and intelligent. But he was also stubborn and fiercely protective of his mother. He loved Lucy very much and wouldn’t have a word said against her. But the relationship between me and Bradley had become strained lately. I never told him that I was having an affair with his mother but he worked it out for himself’.

  ‘And how did he react?’ asked Rebecca. ‘If you want us to help you, Gary you’re going to have to tell us the whole truth. No more messing about with telling us some of the story and not all of it’.

  ‘He hated me’ said Gary. ‘I mean he really hated me. He threatened to tell my wife Debbie and I really couldn’t have that’.

  ‘So you killed him to keep him silent?’

  ‘No! Look, he rang me, we talked. I went round to meet him so we could talk some more and I could try to explain to him that I never wanted to hurt his Mum but that he shouldn’t tell Debbie about my affair with his Mum because it would hurt Debbie very much and he surely didn’t want to do that. But when I got there … when I got there he was already dead. I swear to you that he was already dead. I saw his body lying there and I panicked. I ran. I ran back home and that’s the real reason why I haven’t been back to see Lucy. I couldn’t face her. I couldn’t face her knowing that I’d seen Bradley that way. But I swear to you, detectives. I swear to you with everything about my being that I did not kill Bradley. I found him there and I should’ve told you way before this but I was afraid of how it all might look’.

  ‘Did you see anyone who might’ve killed him?’ asked Ollie. ‘I mean, he can’t have been dead very long when you found him?’

  ‘I didn’t see anyone’ Gary proclaimed emotionally. ‘I didn’t see anyone and I didn’t kill Bradley. He was my son’.

  ‘No he wasn’t’ said Rebecca. ‘We’ve had the paternity test results. He wasn’t your son, Gary. Bradley wasn’t your son’.

  Debbie Mitchell turned over in bed and remembered she wasn’t alone. It brought an involuntary smile to her face and she reached out to caress Fiona’s breasts in her hands. Then she kissed her on the shoulder and watched as the lids lifted on her hazel green eyes.

  ‘Good morning’ said Fiona, sleepily. She rubbed her eyes. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Just after seven’ said Debbie. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Like I always am when I’m with you’ said Fiona. ‘Wonderful’.

  It had been six months since Debbie’s long standing friendship with Fiona Braithwaite who lived next door to Jeff Barton in a house she shared with her husband Stuart had turned into a full blown love affair but she’d never known anyth
ing quite like it before. Fiona had read about women falling for other women and having lesbian relationships for the first time in their forties but never imagined it would happen to her. But one night after they’d been for a run together Fiona asked if she could use Debbie’s shower because hers had broken down for some reason and she left all that kind of stuff to Stuart who was away on business in Newcastle and wouldn’t be back until the morning. Gary had gone down to the pub so Debbie was on her own and could use the company. So she told Fiona that of course she could use the shower. But the look the two women exchanged made them both appreciate that there was a deeper intensity going on and Debbie left it as long as she could before she couldn’t wait any longer to join Fiona in the shower. They made love there and again on the bed. Debbie confessed that she’d had a lesbian affair in her teens that not even Gary knew about but hadn’t been with a woman since. Gary suspected nothing when he came home from the pub to find Fiona and Debbie in the living room drinking wine and talking.

  ‘I slept so well’ said Debbie. ‘It was almost like my first night of freedom’.

  Fiona was in love with Debbie but she sometimes showed a pretty callous side to her nature that Fiona found a little disturbing. ‘I don’t expect Gary had a very comfortable night’.

  ‘I don’t suppose he did being locked up and facing a murder charge’.

  ‘When is he up before the magistrates?’

  ‘This morning at ten o’clock’.

  ‘You are going?’

  ‘I’ll see if there’s a gap in my diary’ said Debbie, smirking.

  Fiona laughed although she didn’t know why. It really wasn’t funny. ‘I’m sure he’ll be glad of that’.

  ‘Oh enough of him’ said Debbie who then swept Fiona up in her arms. ‘We’ve got time to make it again before I have to get my arse into gear’.

  ‘Well with an invitation like that who am I to refuse?’

  A while later they were both getting dressed when Debbie suddenly threw her arms in the air with joy. ‘I can’t believe how it’s all coming together. Gary is out of my life but the woman of my dreams is looking up at me right now. And this is the fourth morning when I haven’t come on. So it looks very much like Gary has left me something behind’.

  ‘Go and do the test!’

  Debbie did the pregnancy test and it turned out to be positive. It was all hugs and tears of joy at the good news that she wasn’t planning to tell Gary about. Then they sat down holding hands on the end of the bed.

  ‘You see what this means?’ said Debbie. ‘We’ve got everything we need now to make a fresh start on our own. Thank God I found that rucksack’.

  ‘Remind me again how you did find it?’ asked Fiona.

  ‘I was driving back from my brother’s place when I saw it lying there by the side of the road’ Debbie explained. ‘I knew it was Bradley’s so I picked it up and was intending to tell him I had it if I saw him at Jeff’s barbecue. If not I would’ve taken it round later’

  ‘But a murderer got in the way of your plans’.

  ‘That’s about it, yes’ said Debbie. ‘And that’s when I saw my chance’.

  ‘Debbie, you’ve stitched Gary up for murder’.

  ‘Fiona, I have had years of having to turn the other way at his affairs. I’ve genuinely lost count of all the other women he’s had dalliances with and you know how much that’s hurt me. Then his whore and his son move in over the road and it was unbearable at times. I don’t owe him anything, Fiona. I don’t owe him anything’.

  ‘But surely you don’t believe he did it?’

  ‘The solicitor believes the prosecution have got a pretty sound case’.

  ‘But do you believe he did it? Because let’s face it, Fiona, if Gary didn’t do it then there’s still some sick killer out there who may be intent on murdering more children like Bradley’.

  ‘Look, Fiona, I know how it looks for Gary. I’m not completely heartless. But for the first time I’ve put my needs first and that means being with you and now with our child’.

  ‘Even if it means Gary going to prison for a crime he didn’t commit?’

  ‘Why are you suddenly falling over yourself with concern over my husband who’s never been able to keep his cock in his trousers?’

  ‘Because he’s been accused of the murder of a child, Debbie! It’s not a bloody parking ticket!’

  ‘Yes, I know, I know, I know, but look, I’ve made a lot of sacrifices for the sake of opening up the potential for our future. I’ve had to be stronger than I’ve ever known because I love you, Fiona, and I want to be with you. Now when are you going to tell Stuart about our plans?’

  ‘I still love him, Debbie. The last thing I want to do is hurt him’.

  ‘But that’s what happens when you end one relationship in order to start another. Someone gets hurt in the grown up world we live in. Now I’ve done my part for us, Fiona. It’s your turn now. Don’t disappoint me’.

  SEVEN

  ‘She watches his spending of every penny, you know?’ said Lucy. She was sitting on her sofa with her knees up and bent to her chest and her arms folded over them. She was playing with a paper tissue between her slight, delicate fingers and there were now so many holes in it that it wouldn’t be able to function as it should if need be. ‘She goes through their bank statements with a pretty fine toothcomb and he has to account for every cash withdrawal from the cash machine. Why did he withdraw it? What did he spend it on? She never respects him. She has to okay every financial transaction. He can’t make any decision himself on buying anything for the house. He has to run it by her first. If she hated him that much then why didn’t she let him go and let someone else love him the way he should be loved?’

  ‘Like you’ said Annabel who was doing what she could but couldn’t seem to calm Lucy down much. The news that Gary Mitchell had been charged with Bradley’s murder had rocked the street and the whole neighbourhood.

  ‘Yes, like me! Why not me?’

  ‘Lucy, Lucy, love, I wasn’t saying it shouldn’t be you’ said Annabel as reassuringly as she could. ‘I was just responding to what you were saying’.

  ‘You probably hate me’.

  ‘I don’t hate you, Lucy. Why would I hate you? We’ve just become friends’

  ‘Because your husband went off with someone just like I wanted Gary to go off with me’.

  ‘Lucy, my husband Clive left me very quickly after he’d declared his affair. And to be honest I respected him for it in a roundabout kind of way because he didn’t prolong the agony for months on end. He knew he wanted to be with her and not with me and he acted on it’.

  ‘What about your Dermot?’

  ‘Well he isn’t my Dermot. I just borrow him for sex’.

  ‘Don’t you want him to be yours?’

  ‘I don’t know the answer to that, Lucy. I don’t know if I’m ready to share my life with a man again and what we have now is fun and exciting’.

  ‘You’re so much stronger than me’.

  ‘I just don’t want to get into the position where unless he comes to me I’ll die’.

  ‘Like the position I’ve got into’ said Lucy who then began to weep again.

  Annabel shifted her position so that she sat on her knees on the sofa in front of Lucy and held Lucy’s hands. ‘Lucy, all you’ve been guilty of is of loving the wrong man’.

  ‘I thought he was the right man’ Lucy pleaded.

  ‘But he wasn’t, sweetheart’.

  ‘He couldn’t have killed Bradley, Annabel. I just don’t believe he could or that he did. I just don’t believe that he could’ve killed his own son’.

  ‘But Lucy’ Annabel began, softly. ‘He wasn’t Bradley’s father, was he?’

  ‘But I wanted him to be’.

  ‘But was that because you thought he’d make a good father or because you wanted the man you loved to be your son’s father?’

  Lucy shook her head. ‘I don’t know’.

  ‘So who was Bradley’s fa
ther?’

  ‘It was Bernie Connelly’ said Lucy. ‘But I couldn’t stand the thought of it’.

  ‘Why was that, Lucy?’

  Lucy suddenly grew even more hysterical. ‘Well would you want a gangster to be your son’s father?’

  Jeff went to the court hearing where Gary Mitchell was remanded in custody pending his trial for the murder of Bradley Thompson. Gary’s wife Debbie was there but before Jeff had the chance to speak to her she rushed off without exchanging even the briefest look with him.

  Following the hearing Jeff went down to the cells and spoke to Gary whilst he was waiting to be taken away to HMP Manchester. He told the police officer guarding Gary to leave him alone with him in the cell.

  ‘What the hell am I going to do, Jeff?’ Gary pleaded.

  ‘Gary, we’ve charged you on the basis of the evidence’ said Jeff.

  ‘So the case is closed? Is that what you’re saying? I’m looking at twenty years, maybe thirty?’

  ‘You’ve got to give me something, Gary’ said Jeff who knew he could offer no words of comfort to his friend other than the belief that he didn’t kill Bradley Thompson. But that wouldn’t be of any value in a prison culture that comes down pretty hard on alleged child murderers. In fact it would be fatuous to even mention it. So Jeff decided for the time being to keep his cards close to his chest.

  ‘Like what? I told your lot everything’.

  ‘No, you didn’t, Gary, because if you had told us everything then you wouldn’t be sitting here’.

  ‘Lucy never told me he wasn’t my son’.

  ‘Well to be fair did you ever ask?’

  Gary buried his head in his hands. He could still see Bradley lying there motionless after the life had been strangled out of him. He wouldn’t be able to get it out of his mind for the rest of his life. And now as he sat here after watching his wife rush off as if she was late for a hairdressing appointment and his mother cry as he was led down in handcuffs, it seemed as if hell had arrived on earth for him.

  ‘Is my Mum okay?’