Flyte

FLYTE

Earlier that day, former Detective Sergeant Phyllida had faced her first big test in her new role. She'd felt nervous, but not in a bad way: more than fifteen years in the Job had taught her that a dash of anxiety could give you an edge over your opponent.

And having seen the case file, opponent was precisely the word she'd use to describe PC Ashley Skinner.

was sitting opposite Skinner and her Police Federation rep for her first interview as an investigator for the Independent Office for Police Conduct. To 's left sat her mentor William Wentworth, veteran investigator and former prosecution barrister.

The interview room was a far cry from the bare and brutal version found at the average nick – it was painted a soothing pastel peach colour and had framed prints on the wall – for crying out loud .

After reading the misconduct caution, looked up from her file and tried to smile. ‘As you are aware, this interview is in relation to Katya Adamsky's contact with police and specifically your actions prior to her murder by her husband Pawel. If we decide there is a case to answer you may be referred to a misconduct meeting or hearing which could result in disciplinary proceedings.'

A glance at William to ensure she'd got the legalese right. ‘But all that aside, we just need to establish what happened here.'

Ashley nodded fervently. ‘You and me both,' she said, pulling her best helpful smile. noticed she'd had her teeth whitened, probably for the interview.

Ashley's conduct was being investigated for her actions – or more accurately, inaction – in a domestic abuse case that had ended with thirty-one-year-old Katya Adamsky being stabbed, strangled and – just for completeness' sake – battered to death by her husband.

‘You were aware that Katya had previously called police about her husband's behaviour before you first attended their address?'

‘Yes, but she never said he hit her. That didn't come out till his trial.'

‘Hmm.' referred to her notes ‘Nonetheless there was a history of disturbances at the marital home, including neighbours reporting a man repeatedly shouting, "I'm going to kill you." And when you went the first time, it was because Katya had called police to say she was "frightened of her husband". Correct?'

‘Yes, but when we attended she said she wanted to withdraw the complaint.'

sent her an acid smile. ‘Hardly uncommon among victims of abuse, especially if the perpetrator is still in the house. So when you turned up with PC Dodds, you interviewed them.' She glanced at her notes with a frown. ‘Separately?'

‘That's right.' Ashley nodded.

‘According to your notes she didn't complain of any violence? But you saw fresh fingermarks on her neck, throttle marks. How did she say she'd got them?'

‘She said it was a sex game they played.'

‘Right.' paused and turned a page of her file. ‘The husband said the same thing to PC Dodds. In exactly the same words.'

Another nod.

‘But according to both your notebooks, these exchanges with Katya and her husband took place at exactly the same time, 11.15 p.m. – in their kitchen-diner.' Putting her head on one side asked, ‘How big is that room, Ashley?'

She pulled an uncomfortable shrug. ‘I couldn't tell you.'

‘Well, I can tell you that having visited the scene and measured it myself, it is three and a half metres long by two and a half metres wide. So it's clear that you interviewed Katya within earshot of the man who'd inflicted her neck injury.'

‘He wasn't listening,' said Ashley, but she threw a look at her union rep.

‘Let's take a look at the other actions you took, shall we?' went on. ‘You reported the incident as "medium risk", rather than "high risk", which meant that if Katya called the police again it wouldn't automatically receive a priority response.'

Ashley said nothing.

‘How many domestic violence cases have you attended, Ashley?'

‘Oh, hundreds,' said Ashley with feeling. ‘There's a lot of men out there who can't control their temper.'

The ‘red mist' explanation of domestic abuse – which knew had been proven to be inadequate and dangerous in countless studies. One woman was murdered every four days by their partner or ex-partner, and most of them had previously suffered – and often reported – clear-cut signs of abusive behaviour.

checked the notes again. ‘Katya told you that her husband stopped her going out with her friends, and had taken her car keys away.'

‘Yeah, but I made sure he gave the keys back to her. And gave him words of advice.'

‘"Words of advice".' let the phrase hang in the air for a long moment. ‘Did it not occur to you that this was a red flag? A classic sign of coercive and controlling behaviour? A pattern of control and abuse that often predicts an escalation to serious assault and even murder?'

‘I just thought he was .?.?. bossy.' She shrugged. ‘I mean it's a different culture, eastern Europe, isn't it?'

just stared at her. ‘Have you read the College of Police DASH guidance on domestic abuse?'

‘Not yet.'

‘Not yet? It's been out for four years!' heard her mentor William clear his throat. Steady on , she told herself.

‘Are you aware of the Silent Solution, Ashley?'

‘Yeah.' Ashley sat up straight – she knew the answer to this one. ‘It allows members of the public to make a silent call to police and press 55 to indicate they're in danger.'

‘Yet you didn't tell Katya about it? Even as a precaution?'

Ashley shook her head, clearly realising too late that her previous answer had been a mistake.

The Silent Solution had been created specifically for domestic abuse victims. Katya's mobile phone had been found beside her on the kitchen floor. At some point during her husband's two-hour assault she'd had the chance to call 999 and left the line open, apparently believing the urban myth that a silent call would automatically trigger a police visit.

Hearing no response from the caller, the police operator had hung up, assuming a misdial. Shortly afterwards Pawel had returned to where Katya lay and finished the job.

It had been another hour before Katya's sister, unable to raise her, had let herself in the flat and found her battered and bloodied body. She had rushed upstairs to find Katya's ten-month-old daughter in her cot who, thankfully, had escaped her father's wrath.

*

‘You know what gets me is that they both knew there was a baby in that house but they couldn't have cared less.' was blowing off steam to her mentor William in a nearby coffee shop. ‘They even stopped off to pick up KFC on the way to the callout!'

‘It's an upsetting case,' said William, nodding in agreement. After taking a sip of tea he looked at her kindly. ‘It can't be easy for you, jumping the fence, as it were,' he said. ‘Having to treat people who were once fellow officers as suspects.'

She nodded, squeezing the lemon slice into her Earl Grey, but she was actually thinking how easy she was finding it to hold her former Met colleagues to account. Too often during her time as a detective she had buttoned her lip, and failed to challenge the attitudes she'd encountered: towards women, gays .?.?. anyone who wasn't white, male and straight – The Other. It had been six months since her brief career as a murder detective had ended in circumstances that had demolished her remaining trust in the police force. When the opportunity to become an IOPC investigator had come up she hadn't hesitated for long before applying for a ‘career break' from the Met – serving police officers not being eligible to work for the IOPC. It had been a tough moment, handing back her warrant card after so long, but she'd had no doubts, feeling certain that the ‘break' would become a divorce.

‘So,' she said, ‘will Ashley Skinner be dismissed for the failures that let Katya die?'

‘We simply determine if there's a case to answer,' said William patiently. ‘As you know, after that it's out of our hands and up to the panel who will hear her case and decide whether she should face dismissal or any disciplinary sanction.'

‘She'll probably just get a slapped wrist and further training, right?' – hearing the bitterness in her own voice.

He sent her a thoughtful look. ‘Listen, Phyllida, it's entirely understandable that you have strong personal reasons for wanting the Met to clean up its act. We're all working towards that. But personal feelings aside, we also have to consider the best way to produce a better police service.' He leaned in and lowered his voice. ‘If all the Ashley Skinners were dismissed the Met would lose thousands of uniforms overnight. We've established that there was a culture from senior officers at her nick around not taking domestic abuse seriously, and she does have seven years of unblemished service.'

‘Yes, but .?.?.'

‘Sanctions against officers found guilty of misconduct are important, of course they are, but we must never forget the learning aspect of our work. Identifying and disseminating recommendations for improvements that can make a real difference on the ground.'

nodded half-heartedly. It was dawning on her that there had been one big advantage in dealing with straightforward villains. As a police officer it wasn't your job to give them learning and hugs, just to catch them and put them behind bars.