Caffeine Nights Publishing

  Reap What You Sow

  A DS Hunter Kerr story.

  Michael Fowler

  Fiction aimed at the heart and the head...

  Published by Caffeine Nights Publishing 2013

  Copyright © Michael Fowler 2013

  Michael Fowler has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1998 to be identified as the author of this work

  CONDITIONS OF SALE

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, scanning, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher

  This book has been sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental

  Published in Great Britain by Caffeine Nights Publishing

  www.caffeine-nights.com

  Cover design by

  Mark (Wills) Williams

  Everything else by

  Default, Luck and Accident

  FROM THE CASE FILES OF HUNTER KERR

  ‘REAP WHAT YOU SOW’

  Out from the shadow of a doorway a man’s unshaven face appeared. As the man inched forward an eerie yellow glow from a nearby streetlamp picked out the side of a jutting cheekbone. Slowly, the light crept across one side of his face, until it met the edge of his hooked, misshapen nose. A close-up picked out dark, intense eyes, staring out far beyond his hiding place. The look was scary. Seconds later, as if startled, he pulled back sharply. The man had quickly become a silhouette melding into shadow.

  Then the image on the large-screen TV panned out opening up the backdrop. One could clearly make out that the shadowy doorway in which the man hid formed part of a row of small Victorian fronted shops. Gradually, more of the scene unfolded, until close to the edge of the screen the figure of a girl came into view. She was slim, dark-haired, wearing a light coloured T-shirt, and dark, tight-fitting jeans, which showed off her long, shapely legs. With each step she was ever increasing her pace, whilst at the same time continuously looking back over her shoulder in the direction of where the man was secreted.

  The picture before Hunter Kerr froze and the setting reminded him of one he’d seen a long time ago in a horror movie. Yet, he knew this was no movie. Three months ago this had been the reason why he had worked beyond his normal shift and into the early hours.

  “So, Detective Sergeant Kerr, am I right in saying that this was your first sighting of the defendant, Nathan Hyde?” The Prosecution Barrister said.

  From the witness box Hunter eyed his pinched-face CPS ally and cleared his throat. He delivered a nervous smile before switching his gaze to the bench at the head of the court, where portly, lugubrious looking, Mr Justice Stevens sat. With a quick nod he acknowledged the Judge’s presence. “Yes, that’s right Your Honour. That was roughly the point where I picked up the activities of the defendant. But as you’ve seen from the previous video footage that’s been shown, the CCTV operators actually picked up Mr Hyde several streets away. They were suspicious about his activities - the fact that he kept ducking in and out of doorways. And then, as you have heard, they were of the opinion that he was following a lone female.” Hunter nodded towards the large screen TV. “As you can see it’s the witness, Miss Nicola Mills.”

  The CPS Barrister pulled his gaze away from Hunter and drove it towards the jury. “And as the court has already been told, nineteen-year-old Miss Mills had left Liquid nightclub, in the town centre, just ten minutes earlier, and because her taxi hadn’t turned up, she was making her way home through the back streets to her parents home, which was approximately one mile away.” On his last note he returned his light grey eyes back to Hunter. “And that’s when the operators contacted you DS Kerr?”

  “It was, yes. I was on the evening shift, upstairs in the CID Office, and I received a telephone call from the CCTV suite. I was asked to come down and view someone they had under observation, who was acting suspiciously. When I got down there, which was only a couple of minutes after the phone call, this is where I picked things up.”

  “And so what did you do officer?”

  Hunter settled his gaze on the members of the Jury seated opposite. He picked out a few of their faces and replied, “After a few seconds of watching the CCTV I immediately got on my radio, informed officers that I was concerned about a man following a lone female on Lancaster Street, and that I was making my way out there and requested back-up.”

  “Why were you so concerned DS Kerr?”

  Hunter pursed his mouth holding back a smile. He instantly knew what the CPS Barrister was prompting him to respond with. They had discussed this during the pre-court briefing process earlier that morning. He said, “A week before this event we had had two attacks on young girls, on wasteland, just a few streets away from where CCTV had picked up the defendant and Miss Mills seemed to be walking in that general direction.”

  “And we now know of course from her earlier testimony that she would have gone on to that wasteland, because it was a short-cut to her home,” the CPS Barrister interjected.

  Hunter nodded.

  “Will you tell the court what happened then?”

  “Well I arrived on Lancaster Street at roughly the same time as two uniform patrol cars. I was constantly monitoring what the CCTV operators were describing over the radio, and they told me that they had seen the defendant darting into an alleyway just a few seconds before we arrived. I immediately organised a search, and also got an officer to go to speak with Miss Mills, who I could see was still on the street.”

  “And did you find the defendant?”

  “Yes. We found him hiding behind a shed in a nearby garden.”

  “And did you carry out a search of that garden?”

  “We did, yes.” Once again Hunter fought back the urge to smile. He knew what the CPS Barrister was alluding to.

  “And what did you find?”

  “Nearby, in a garden waste wheelie bin, we recovered a black woollen ski-mask and a knife with a four-inch blade.”

  From the bench in front of him the CPS Barrister scooped up a lightweight clear plastic forensic bag, and with his other hand, ever so slowly, as if handling a delicate object, he picked up a shoebox-size clear container. With his evidence prizes in both hands he held them aloft and turned to face the jury. “Exhibits HK1 and HK2,” he announced, and presented to the court a menacing looking ski-mask and ferociously jagged edged knife. He proffered them towards the Court Usher. “If you can let the Members of the Jury view them.” He passed over the exhibit bags to the lady usher, watched her handing them over to the foreman of the jury and returned his gaze back to Hunter. He added, “And then I believe you cautioned Mr Hyde and informed him he was under arrest.”

  “Yes that is correct.”

  “And I also believe Mr Hyde admitted to you that the he had been following Miss Mills with the intention of way-laying her on the waste land?”

  “He did, Your Honour. He told me that he had been following Miss Mills for approximately ten minutes and that he was going to catch up with her once she got onto the waste land.”

  “And did he say what his intentions were?”

  “He said, and I quote, ‘You know what I was up to. I’m sorry.’”

  The CPS Barrister issued Hunter a nod and tight smile. “Thank you, officer. Now if you can just remain there, I believe Defence Counsel would like to ask you some questions.”

  Hunter let out a silent sigh. He knew that was the easy part over. He pulled his gaze away from his ally, bounced it along the long bench-seat, past a couple of supporting Junior Solicitors, and finally rested it upon the tanned face of his adversary Meredied Thomas QC, who was rising from his seat. He tried to study his features, size him up, like he did with his opponents whenever he climbed into the boxing ring, but he couldn’t read anything in the returned dead-pan features.

  For a few seconds Meredied Thomas seemed to be studying some paperwork in front of him. Then slowly raising his head he threw Hunter a wide disarming grin.

  For some strange reason the image of the hypnotic python in Disney’s Jungle Book flashed inside Hunter’s head.

  That’s not fooling me. I’ve got the measure of you. Hunter was well aware of the Queen’s Counsel’s reputation. The media had dubbed him ‘Teflon Thomas’ as a result of several high-profile cases where he had got well-known ‘A’ list celebrities off speeding and drink-driving bans. Hunter knew he would have earned that reputation from his knowledge of the law and by doing his homework and he was more than prepared for his battle ahead with this man. Hunter had also done his homework. He knew everything off by heart; he had spent the previous afternoon double-checking the evidence and fixing his statement to memory.

  Showman-like, Meredied grabbed at the lapels of his gown, swelled his chest and with a sing-so

ng Welsh accent opened, “Officer, how long have you been a detective?”

  Hunter’s jaw tightened. He hadn’t expected that question. He pondered on it and answered, “Five years as a DC and two years as a Detective Sergeant.”

  “So we can assume by that you have a vast amount of experience in investigating crime?”

  “I have dealt with a number of major cases, yes.”

  “And been successful?”

  Hunter could feel his eye-brows knitting together. “When you say successful, I’m guessing that you mean were they detected?”

  Meredied Thomas flipped forward a hand, reminiscent of an actor in a Shakespearian play, “Of course I mean detected Officer.”

  “Yes, I have detected the vast majority of my cases.”

  “And so one would also assume then that you have good sense of acumen?”

  Hunter’s forehead tightened even harder. “Acumen? In what regards?”

  “In that you have a good sense of judgement.”

  Hunter relaxed. “Yes, you could say that.”

  “And yet in this case wouldn’t you say that your judgement let you down?”

  “I don’t understand the question.”

  “Well, let me remind you of an answer you gave when Prosecution Counsel asked you about the action you took, after receiving a phone call from CCTV operators, asking you to come down to the suite, to view someone they had under observation.” The QC flashed a glimpse at the pile of papers spread out before him and quickly returned his look back to Hunter. “You said Officer, ‘after a few seconds of watching, I immediately got on my radio, requested back-up, and went out to Lancaster Street,’ did you not?”

  “Something like that, yes.”

  “After a few seconds,” Meredied, dragged out the words, momentarily pausing and casting his eyes towards the men and women who made up the jury, ensuring he had their attention before continuing, “Within a few seconds of watching footage of my client stood in a shop doorway, you had come to the conclusion that Mr Hyde was going to attack Miss Mills?”

  “The CCTV operators had been watching him for several minutes before I got down there.”

  “But it was you who made the judgement call Officer. And that judgement call was based on just a few seconds of watching CCTV.”

  “There was also the previous attacks on two young women.”

  “But your decision to arrest my client was based on a few seconds of watching CCTV.”

  Hunter’s hands left his side. He gripped the edges of the witness box. He could feel himself flushing. He forced out, “Yes.”

  “You jumped in Officer. Made up your mind he was guilty and you arrested him.”

  He eased his grip, but his hands remained wrapped around the wooden bevelled lip of the witness stand. He leaned forward slightly. “Only after we found the ski-mask and knife.”

  “Ha yes, the two items you found in the garden-waste wheelie-bin.”

  “Yes.”

  “And is there ever a time when my client was under observation by CCTV that he was seen wearing the mask, or indeed carrying the knife you discovered.”

  Hunter thought about the question before answering, “No.”

  “And when you examined the knife, were my clients fingerprints found upon it.”

  “No, but he also had gloves.”

  “That’s not the question I asked Officer. I’ll ask it again. Were my clients fingerprints found on the knife?”

  Reluctantly, Hunter replied, “No.” Then quickly added, “but, he admitted to me in the car that he was going to attack Miss Mills, and that he was sorry.”

  “No he didn’t officer. What he said was, and I quote your own words, ‘You know what I was up to. I’m sorry.’ Is that not correct Officer?”

  “That’s correct, yes.”

  “Not an admission by any means is it Officer?”

  Hunter could feel his face burning with rage. At that very moment he wanted to wrap his shovel-like hands around the scrawny neck of Meredied Thomas and squeeze the living daylights out of him.

  “No. But I knew what he meant.”

  The QC shook his head and aimed a smug grin at Hunter. Then diverting his look to the jury members he elaborated, “Not an admission Officer.” Returning his eyes he said, “And now this has been raised, let’s just go back to when my client supposedly said these words. You said he made them in the car.”

  “Yes, after I’d cautioned and arrested him. I put him in the back of the CID car to drive him back to the station. I asked him what he’d been playing at secreting himself in doorways and following Miss Mills. That’s when he gave me his reply.”

  “In the back of your car?”

  Insistently Hunter relied, “Yes.”

  “And there were no other witnesses.”

  Hunter knew where this was going, but he realised he had been quite cleverly forced down a dead-end. He almost spat out, “No.”

  “Isn’t that bad practice DS Kerr. Under the governance of The Police And Criminal Evidence Act, shouldn’t interviews be conducted under certain conditions back at the police station and be recorded?”

  “Yes, but if your client chose to say what he did, I can’t do anything about that. And I did record it later.”

  “But he just didn’t say it did he? He was questioned, without witnesses and without a solicitor present.”

  Hunter could feel droplets of sweat tickle the side of his ribs. “I suppose so.”

  “I think the answer to that is yes, DS Kerr.” Once again the QC’s mouth spread into a smug grin. “And, going onto questioning. Did my client give a sufficient explanation as to what he was up to on that night?”

  “After consulting with a solicitor he did give an explanation, yes.”

  “Yes I know he did, DS Kerr, because I have a transcript of that taped interview you conducted with Mr Hyde.” Meredied Thomas picked up a piece of foolscap, switch-backed his gaze between the Jury and the Judge and said, “If your Honour permits, and if there are no objections from Prosecution Counsel, I’ll summarise the salient parts of that interview. It does run to three tapes, and lasts a total of two hours and twenty four minutes, and much of what is said is repeated, or is not relevant to this trial.”

  The Judge eyed the Prosecution Barrister, who offered no objections. Then with open hands, Mr Justice Stevens gesticulated for Defence Counsel to proceed.

  Meredied playfully cracked his sheet of paper and cleared his throat. “Mr Hyde was asked by Detective Sergeant Kerr to give an account of himself, specifically, as to his reasons for following Miss Mills. After apologising for causing her undue duress, he explained that he was aware that there had been two attacks on young girls in the area and because he only lives a few streets away from the wasteland he was extremely concerned. He had been following the news, and therefore was aware that police had not caught the perpetrator, and in fact, he stated he was disgusted by the fact that he had not seen a police presence in the locality of the attacks and so, rightly or wrongly, he took it upon himself to patrol the streets with the aim of helping the police. He admitted that he been patrolling the streets for a number of nights previous to the night in which he was picked up by the CCTV cameras and was in fact doing another one of his patrols when the police picked him up. When questioned about him hopping in and out of shop doorways he told DS Kerr that he used the doorways for the simple reason that he didn’t want to put fear in the people he was looking-out for and protecting. He was asked why he had had taken flight when he did, and why he hid behind the shed, and he explained that he had done that because he had heard the screeching of tyres and seen a dark coloured car speeding towards him. He hadn’t realised it had been an unmarked police car. He had simply been afraid for his own safety.” Meredied laid the sheet of paper, he had been reading from, back on the bench, keeping his hand firmly pressed over the top. He took his time to scan each jury member’s face. “A perfectly simple explanation. My client did not seek to avoid any of the questions DS Kerr put to him. In fact, he gave a full and frank account of his actions. When my client used the words ‘you know what I was up to’ he was in fact referring to the patrols he was doing. It’s the police who have misinterpreted, what are in fact, the actions of a good law-abiding citizen.”