Bradfield leant over and patted Boyle’s back. ‘Come on, now, son, calm down. Take us through what happened, Kenneth. You’ll feel better once you get it off your chest. Just tell us what happened because I know you never meant to hurt her.’
Bradfield waited as Gibbs collected the photographs and stacked them like a pack of cards.
‘You got a tissue, WPC Morgan?’
Kath delved into her pocket and passed over a clean tissue. Bradfield handed it to Kenneth who blew his nose and then began to knead the sodden tissue.
‘It was night-time and I saw her on a swing in the kids’ playground by the Kingsmead Estate. I went over to her, she stopped and looked me up and down and I told her I’d seen her around lots of times, even talked to her once, but she ignored me and said to go away. I tried to talk to her more and was being nice but then she told me to piss off as she was waiting for someone. But I guessed it was for a punter so I said I had money to pay her for sex and she laughed at me. She got off the swing and started to walk away so I touched her shoulder and asked her to stay. Next thing I knew she turned round and spat at me, she gobbed at me right in my face. She dropped her bag and bent over to pick it up and I dunno, I just went crazy – dragged her to the ground and got on top of her.’ He started crying again.
‘I know it must be horrible for you to recall it all, son, but you’re doing well and it’s almost over, so keep going,’ Bradfield said, urging him to confess.
‘Oh Christ, I dunno how it happened. I put one hand over her mouth then ripped her shirt open and pulled at her bra which came undone, then she bit my hand and when I pulled it away from her mouth she started to scream. I was scared someone would hear her and in a panic I put the bra round her neck and shit, I didn’t mean it, but I kept on pulling it tighter and tighter… ’
He sobbed, using his hands to show how he had pulled the bra, crossing his wrists as it tightened round her neck, and then tightened it in a knot.
‘I got scared and ran off with her bag. It wasn’t for the money, I swear before God it wasn’t for the money. I didn’t know how much she had until I got home.’
Jane went to the ladies’ locker room to hang up her uniform jacket before going off duty. She saw an upset-looking Kath sitting on a bench and hesitated before going over to ask if she was all right.
‘Yeah, Kenneth Boyle just confessed to killing Julie Ann. It was so sickening listening to him go over it all. He’s being charged now by DS Gibbs and will appear at the Magistrates’ Court in the morning. It’s weird, I just want to cry. But I tell you, Bradfield’s a cool bastard. Just as I thought he was feeling sorry for the pathetic little shit, he laid it on him that he also killed the kid she was expecting. His voice was harsh and you could tell he loathed Boyle. Gibbs is the same, they kind of do a double act, but they got him to admit everything, no big drama it was just… ’ She sighed. ‘It wasn’t making me feel good, which I honestly believed it would, you know, getting closure, but all I could really think of was what a waste of life. Anyway this time he won’t get banged up for months, he’ll be there for twenty-five years at least.’
Back in her room at the section house Jane couldn’t stop thinking about what Kath had said about the waste of life. By the time she had got undressed and was ready to take a shower, she didn’t feel like having anything to eat, or God forbid, going to the pub or sitting in one of the TV rooms.
Lying down on her bed, she found herself thinking of Bradfield and his remark ‘Chance would be a fine thing’. Did he mean that he expected an approach by him to be rejected? She curled up and tucked her hands under her chin. At the beginning of the investigation she hadn’t been impressed by his manner but now she knew she was infatuated and even in awe of him. Over and over again she had been surprised by him: the time she had seen him gently touch the dead girl’s foot, his kindness at the Collinses’ house before he knew about their daughter’s beating, how, drunk outside the pub, he’d told her that he felt as if they were the only ones who cared.
She remembered, too, all the odd things he had said to her, unsure if they were complimentary or not. She curled up tighter because now, lying alone in her room, she had to admit to herself that she hoped that he did like her.
Crossing the station yard to prepare for the early shift parade at 6 a.m., Jane was startled to see a disgruntled Sergeant Harris carrying a large black bin bag.
‘Morning, Sergeant,’ she said overbrightly.
