But his words were halted as Denny raised a hand. ‘We’ve got them.’ He rose to leave. ‘We’ll take it from here.’
‘I can’t get my head round it.’ Donovan stared at the doorway after Denny left. ‘We used to work in this office: me, Bicks and Carla. We were mates. How could he . . .’ His words faded as Amy placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. She was used to betrayal. She grew up in a house of lies.
‘Sometimes the people you think have got your back are the ones waiting to push you off the edge,’ she said. The harsh sentiment made her feel cold inside, but it fitted this scenario to a T. ‘Where are you going?’ she said, as he moved to leave.
Straightening his tie, Donovan cleared his throat. ‘You heard the man – it’s out of our hands. We need to write up our statements and leave.’
‘You’re quitting, just like that?’ Amy followed Donovan as he strode into the hall.
‘They’ve found the kids; our work here is done. At least you got to Bicks before he left.’
‘Or I botched up any chance they had of getting real evidence against him. Denny, wait,’ Amy called, catching up with him as he paused at the vending machine in the hall. ‘Have you interviewed Bicks’s wife yet? What’s she said?’
‘I can’t discuss details of the—’ Denny began to say.
‘Please,’ Amy interrupted.
Denny’s expression softened. ‘She’s going “no comment” – but we’d expect her to have some trust issues with the police.’
‘Then let me talk to her,’ Amy replied. It was her last chance to put things right. ‘She’ll trust me. I’m an outsider, and she’s a huge fan of the show.’ They were words she never thought she would utter. Using the police documentary as leverage was her only bargaining tool.
‘She’s right,’ Donovan said, joining them. ‘Amy’s good. She’ll get through to her.’
Denny retrieved his mobile phone from his trouser pocket. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he replied. ‘We might be able to offer her a deal if she gives evidence against her husband.’
Amy gazed into Donovan’s face as Denny left to make the call. ‘I take no joy in this. I know Bicks was your friend.’
‘What he did sickens me,’ Donovan said. ‘But when you left to arrest him, you told me to watch the team. What was all that about?’
‘Nothing,’ Amy said, barely able to meet his gaze. She hadn’t told Donovan because she had yet to get to grips with herself. She’d had an email from Darren, her private investigator. Her suspicions had been correct. Bicks wasn’t the only rotten apple in the barrel, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words aloud.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Susi wore the stunned expression of a woman who was completely out of her depth.
Her solicitor was Peter Sheffield, some young up-and-coming from a private law firm. He regarded Amy with a taut expression as she ran through the pro forma that preceded each interview. Judging by his demeanour, he was not a fan. But Susi was, and Amy intended to capitalise on that. Amy was equipped with a good background knowledge of the woman before her. Her father was a corporal in the army, her mother a retired teacher who went no further than the Women’s Institute once a week. With three big brothers who had each excelled in their chosen careers, Susi had grown up in a house filled with domineering men.
After asking a standard number of questions, Amy pushed her paperwork to one side. ‘I take it your solicitor has advised you to answer “no comment”,’ she said, briefly gazing in the man’s direction.
‘No comment,’ Susi said, before faltering. ‘I mean . . .’ She looked at her solicitor for direction.
‘I can confirm my client is exercising her right to respond “no comment” for the duration of this interview,’ Sheffield said haughtily.
‘I’m talking to you, Susi, not your solicitor.’ Amy’s gaze rested on the young woman, who was visibly squirming in her hard plastic chair. ‘He can command you, the same as your husband has done throughout your marriage. But you don’t have to do as they say.’ A beat passed between them. ‘Look. I know it’s not easy, standing up for yourself in a world full of alpha males. People who think they know better. Who think you aren’t entitled to an opinion of your own. As for me, I . . .’
‘Officer Winter.’ His face pinched, Sheffield began to talk over her. ‘Let me explain how the legal process works. Mrs Bickerstaff is my client and I—’
Amy smiled inwardly. Sheffield had acted exactly as she had expected of him – like a condescending prat.
‘See that?’ Amy turned to Susi. ‘Mansplaining. But we don’t have to put up with it. Not any more.’ She watched Susi’s shoulders drop just a little as she began to relax. ‘Now, I know you’re not a bad person. You love your husband and you’ve tried to do your best by him. He’ll have told you that everything he did was for you and your son. The business, the house, the holidays abroad. But you know what that was? Hush money. His way of keeping you quiet. Of keeping you under control.’
Amy waited a few seconds as her words sank in. ‘When we arrested him, he had a passport in his bag. He’d booked a one-way ticket to Mexico through an app on his phone.’ The frown growing on Susi’s face relayed that this was news to her. Thanks to the tech team, it was a much-welcomed piece of evidence Amy had been able to bring to the table during interview.
‘I’ve had no disclosure of this,’ Sheffield said. ‘I need to consult with my client.’
‘He was thinking of himself, Susi,’ Amy continued, as if she had not heard him. ‘Leaving you and your son to face the music alone. Is that how you want your little boy to grow up? Knowing his daddy sold children to paedophiles while his mummy stood by
