“A DC Karen Hodgkins from the task force just phoned.”
“And?”
Winsome looked at Annie. “It’s Terence Payne,” she said. “He died an hour ago in the infirmary without recovering consciousness.”
“Oh, shit,” said Annie.
“Well, that should make life interesting,” said Banks, reaching for another cigarette.
“Tell me about the Alderthorpe Seven,” said Banks into his phone at home later that evening. He had just settled down to Duke Ellington’s
“I don’t have a lot yet, myself,” said Jenny. “Only what the Liversedges told me.”
“Go on.”
Banks heard a rustle of paper at the other end of the line. “On the eleventh of February, 1990,” Jenny began, “police and social workers made a dawn raid on the village of Alderthorpe, near Spurn Head on the East Yorkshire coast. They were acting on allegations of ritual satanic abuse of children and investigating a missing child.”
“Who blew the whistle?” Banks asked.
“I don’t know,” said Jenny. “I didn’t ask.”
Banks filed it away for later. “Okay. Carry on.”
“I’m not a policeman, Alan. I don’t know what sort of questions to ask.”
“I’m sure you did just fine. Please, go on.”
“They took six children from two separate households into care.”
“What exactly was supposed to have been going on?”
“At first it was all very vague. ‘Lewd and libidinous behavior. Ritualistic music, dance and costume.’ ”
“Sounds like police headquarters on a Saturday night. Anything else?”
“Well, that’s where it gets interesting. And sick. It seems this was one of the few such cases in which prosecutions went forward and convictions were gained. All the Liversedges would tell me was that there were tales of torture, of kids being forced to drink urine and eat… Christ, I’m not squeamish, Alan, but this stuff turns my stomach.”
“That’s all right. Take it easy.”
“They were humiliated,” Jenny went on. “Sometimes physically injured, kept in cages without food for days, used as objects of sexual gratification in satanic rituals. One child, a girl called Kathleen Murray, was found dead. Her remains showed evidence of torture and sexual abuse.”
“How did she die?”
“She was strangled. She’d also been beaten and half-starved, too. That was what sparked the whistle-blower, her not turning up for school.”
“And this was proven in court?”
“Most of it, yes. The killing. The satanic stuff didn’t come out in the trial. I suppose the CPS must have thought it would just sound like too much mumbo jumbo.”
“How did it come out?”
“Some of the children gave descriptions later, after they’d been fostered.”
“Lucy?”
“No. According to the Liversedges, Lucy never spoke about what happened. She just put it all behind her.”
“Was it followed up?”
“No. There were similar allegations and raids in Cleveland, Rochdale and the Orkneys, and pretty soon it was all over the papers. Caused a hell of a national outcry. Epidemic of child abuse, that sort of thing. Overzealous social workers. Questions in the House, the lot.”
“I remember,” said Banks.
“Most of the cases were thrown out, and nobody wanted to talk about the one that
“What happened to Lucy’s real parents?”
“They went to jail. The Liversedges have no idea whether they’re still there or what. They haven’t kept track of things.”
Banks sipped some Laphroaig and flicked his cigarette end into the empty grate. “So Lucy stayed with the Liversedges?”
“Yes. She changed her name, too, by the way. She used to be called Linda. Linda Godwin. Then, with all the publicity, she wanted to change it. The Liversedges assured me it’s all legal and aboveboard.”
From Linda Godwin to Lucy Liversedge to Lucy Payne, Banks thought. Interesting.
“Anyway,” Jenny went on, “after they’d told me all this I pushed them a bit more and at least got them to admit life with Lucy wasn’t quite as ‘ordinary’ and ‘normal’ as they’d originally said it was.”
“Oh?”
“Problems adjusting. Surprise, surprise. The first two years, between the ages of twelve and fourteen, Lucy was as good as gold, a quiet, passive, considerate and sensitive kid. They were worried she was traumatized.”
“And?”
“Lucy saw a child psychiatrist for a while.”
“Then?”
“From fourteen to sixteen she started to act up, come out of her shell. She stopped seeing the psychiatrist. There were boys, suspicions that she was having sex, and then there was the bullying.”
“Bullying?”
“Yes. At first they told me it was an isolated incident and came to nothing, but later they said it caused a few problems with the school. Lucy was bullying younger girls out of their dinner money and stuff like that. It’s fairly common.”
“But in Lucy’s case?”
“A phase. The Liversedges worked with the school authorities, and the psychiatrist entered the picture again briefly. Then Lucy settled down to behave herself. The next two years, sixteen to eighteen, she quieted down, withdrew more into herself, became less active socially and sexually. She did her A-levels, got good results and got a job with the NatWest bank in Leeds. That was four years ago. It seemed almost as if she were planning her escape. She had very little contact with the Liversedges after she left, and I get the impression that they were relieved.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know why. Call it intuition, but I got the feeling that they ended up being
“Interesting. Go on.”
“They saw even less of her after she hooked up with Terence Payne. I thought when they first told me that that he might have been responsible for isolating her from her family and friends, you know, the way abusers often do, but now it seems just as likely that she was isolating herself. Her friend from work, Pat Mitchell, said the same thing. Meeting Terry really changed Lucy, cut her off almost entirely from her old life, her old ways.”
“So she was either under his thrall or she’d found a new sort of life that she preferred?”
“Yes.” Jenny told him about the incident of Lucy’s prostitution.
Banks thought for a moment. “It’s interesting,” he said. “
“I told you that would probably be the case. It makes her
“More than half. But hang on a minute, Jenny. You’ve come up with a number of leads worth pursuing.”
“Like what?”
