Chapter 40

Terry drove to Lavender House. He wanted to talk to his father. He had no idea what about, but he couldn't help wondering if Harry and Barbara might, in some way, be capable of murdering Dominic Griffiths. It was a ridiculous notion. The level of violence inflicted upon him had been savage. Yes, they hated him, but could they murder him with such intensity? It was time to find out if he needed to consider them suspects.

He parked, got out of the car and made his way to the reception desk. He asked the smiling receptionist if he could check the visitors' book, and there, on 1 January at 7.30 p.m., was Harry's signature. Terry let out an audible sigh of relief. Harry was in the clear, and there was no way Barbara could have attacked and killed Dominic on her own. He felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

Terry thanked the receptionist and walked down the corridor, entering his father's room with a couple of carrier bags. One contained fresh toiletry supplies for the bathroom, the other had a sandwich for each of them along with some fruit, chocolate bars and a couple of paperback novels.

‘Terry, I didn't expect to see you today.'

Ian was sitting by the window, looking out over the back gardens. They were usually landscaped and vibrant, but at this time of year they had an unkempt, abandoned look about them. He was reading his tablet and had a cup of tea on the table in front of him. It would be easy to look at him and think he was simply having a lazy afternoon reading a book and enjoying his retirement. Sadly, the truth was very different.

‘I thought I'd pop over with some things.' Terry raised the bags. ‘I've brought you a sandwich from that shop in town you used to like, with the crusty rolls.' He took out a paper bag and placed it on the table. ‘Hot roasted pork with apple sauce and stuffing.'

Ian's eyes lit up. ‘Delicious.' He tore open the paper bag, took the huge sandwich in both hands and held it up. He inhaled the aroma and closed his eyes. ‘It's been years since I've had one of these.'

It was a couple of months ago, actually, but Terry didn't say anything.

Ian took a bite and chewed slowly, savouring every morsel.

Terry sat opposite his father at the table and tucked into his own sandwich. He hadn't realised how hungry he was.

‘How's the book?' Terry asked, to break the silence.

‘I'm enjoying it. This John Grisham bloke used to be a lawyer himself.'

‘Did he?' Terry asked, though he already knew.

‘Yes. It was a film. I looked it up on that website you told me about. Tom Cruise and… can't remember his name.'

‘I'll get the DVD for you if you like.'

‘I'd like that. We could have a film night.'

‘Sounds good,' Terry said, with a smile. ‘Listen, Dad, can I ask you something about Harry and Barbara?'

‘Of course you can,' he said, taking another bite of his sandwich.

‘I know Barbara's always wanted Dominic to rot in prison, but what were Harry's feelings towards him?'

It was a while before Ian replied. He chewed slowly, swallowed, licked his lips and frowned as if in deep thought.

‘Harry was a born detective,' he eventually said. ‘Always on the side of law and order. If anything happened, he said the law would sort it out. It didn't matter what case we were on – murder, rape, kidnapping, drugs, domestic abuse, riots – Harry trusted the law would see the perpetrators caught and sentenced accordingly.'

‘But what about when the law didn't work? What about when some smart-arse lawyer got a killer off on a technicality? How would Harry react then?'

‘He'd blame himself.'

‘How?'

‘He'd say he hadn't worked hard enough to secure the conviction.'

‘Sometimes, things are beyond our control,' Terry said, placing his sandwich down on the paper bag they were both using as a plate.

‘I agree. Criminals don't want to get caught. And they'll do everything they can to get away with their crimes. They'll lie, cheat, deceive, blame others, even kill, to save their own skin.'

Terry couldn't help but feel a warm glow inside. His father was lucid today. He knew who he was; he knew his own life, career and background, and they were having a regular father and son conversation. He'd missed this.

‘That's happened to me a few times,' Terry said. ‘I've arrested the right bloke. I know I have. Yet he's managed to worm his way free because someone has lied for him or it's his word against someone else's.'

‘Maddening, isn't it?' Ian asked.

‘Painfully so.'

‘You just have to take it on the chin. Chalk it down to experience and move on.'

‘Is that what you did?'

‘Yes. You have to, or it'll drive you insane. What could you have done differently? What could you have done better?'

‘Was Harry able to chalk things down to experience and move on?'

‘No. He was one of the few who allowed things to eat him up.'

‘That's not healthy.'

‘No, it isn't. That's why he exploded the way he did after Stephanie went missing, when he went round to that witness's house. He was a man possessed. I couldn't pull him off the poor girl's father.'

‘It was a horrible time,' Terry said, looking down.

‘It was. It changed Harry into someone I didn't recognise. That time he came to the station and saw—' He stopped in his tracks.

‘What?' Terry asked, looking up into his father's eyes.

‘What?' Ian replied innocently.

‘You were going to say about the time he came into the station and saw someone. Saw who?'

‘I don't know.'

‘You do, Dad.' Terry edged closer. ‘Who did he see? What happened?'

‘I can't… remember. It's fuzzy.'

‘No, it isn't. Your memory is good today. Who did Harry see when he came into the station? Was it Dominic? Did he see him there after you'd arrested him?'

‘It was a very dark time for us all,' Ian said quietly. He placed what remained of his sandwich down on the paper bag and pushed it away. ‘It was twenty years ago. It was a different world back then.'

‘What happened?'

It was a while before he spoke. ‘We couldn't get Dominic to talk. We didn't know he was taking that drug he was on. If we had, it might have given us an insight into his behaviour. He kept saying he couldn't remember. He didn't know Stephanie. He'd never met her. He didn't know how she came to be on his allotment. We questioned him for hours and hours, going over the same thing, and he wasn't budging.'

‘Surely Harry wasn't questioning him?'

‘No. I didn't even know he was in the station. I was in that interview room for hours. Someone…'

‘Go on,' Terry prompted, when his dad fell silent.

Ian turned to looked out of the window. He couldn't look at his son. ‘Harry had come to the station. He was always turning up, even though he was on compassionate leave, asking how we were getting on, if we'd arrested anyone yet. Someone let him into the observation room without telling me. He watched the entire interview with Dominic.'

‘Oh my God.'

‘We were charging him for hiding the body, but we couldn't do him for the murder. Not then anyway. We put him in the cells and let him stew for a while. We all needed a break. You know what it's like when you're trying to break a suspect. I needed some air. I smoked back then, as you know. I was in the car park. It was bloody freezing, but I needed some nicotine inside me. I'm standing there smoking. I turn around and I see DS bloody Jason Carr going into the cell block with Harry. I couldn't get in there fast enough.'

‘Do I dare ask what happened?'

‘When I got there, Jason was nowhere to be seen. He'd unlocked Dominic's cell door and left Harry to it.'

‘What was he doing?'

‘He had him by the scruff of his neck, pinned against the wall. He literally had him off the ground. He was right in his face, telling him to confess. He said he knew he'd killed Stephanie, and he needed to hear him say it.'

‘What did you do?'

‘I grabbed Harry and eventually managed to pull him off him. Dominic dropped to the floor, then… Harry kicked him.' Ian looked down, ashamed.

‘What?' Terry was almost out of his seat. The shock went through him like a charge of electricity. He had never known Harry to be violent. ‘Where did he kick him?'

‘The stomach. He only did it the once. I managed to stop him. I pushed him out of the cell and closed the door.'

‘Bloody hell, Dad. Did Dominic confess?'

‘Yes. Soon afterwards. Then his parents got him a solicitor, and it all came out about him being a bit depressed and moody, and he retracted his confession and stuck with the story that he didn't know what he was doing at the time Stephanie was killed, and then said he had no memory of confessing. By then I wanted to kick him myself. It was all a big mess.'

Terry remained quiet and watched his father pick up the remainder of his sandwich and return to looking out of the window. He finished it in three bites, chewing slowly before swallowing.

‘Would you like me to make you a drink? I've brought biscuits.'

‘Thank you.'

Terry smiled and rose from the chair. He went over to the off-shot kitchen and filled the kettle. When he turned around, he jumped. He hadn't heard his father come up behind him.

‘You won't say anything to Barbara, will you?' Ian asked. He looked worried.

‘No. Of course I won't.'

‘Or Terry.'

‘Sorry?' Terry frowned.

‘I don't want Terry to find out. He used us as a career template. He looks up to us, Harry. It'll break his heart if he knows what happened.'

Terry wanted to cry. There was an earnest look on his father's face. He genuinely thought he was talking to Harry. This confusion and the memory blackouts couldn't just be a result of the stroke, surely. Maybe he should have a word with the matron and have his dad tested for dementia. He hated seeing his father like this. The body and the mind were so incredibly fragile, and it was fucking cruel to see them crumble.

‘Your secret's safe with me… Ian,' Terry said, with a lump in his throat.