“Okay, do you happen to remember what system it was? Did it have a company name on the screen?”
“Christ Dan, I saw the screen for a minute or two. There was a screen with controls, hang on there was a logo. It was like a white bird flying on a blue circle.”
“Bingo… We’ll make a copper of you yet. That is a system from Blue Bird Security, they are a pretty big name in the industry. That means that the system saves all the images onto their server so it is always safe. I would guess the police will be making contact with them officially to access those images right now, so you had better be quick.”
“Be quick to do what?”
* * *
I looked up as Amanda rushed into the kitchen, she had a piece of paper in her hand. “Where’s your laptop?” I grabbed my old laptop and handed it to her. She opened it and started to type in a web address. I stood behind her as a screen loaded, ‘Blue Bird Security’.
“What’s that?” I watched as she typed in an email address and then typed a password. The screen changed and there was a series of images on the monitor. “What the hell! That’s Hilary’s yard! How the hell did you do that?”
The stables were empty, but it was clear the cameras were still working. Amanda looked down, consulting the sheet of paper before selecting a menu option. Clicking some buttons, she sat back.
“Do you want to tell me what you are doing?”
“It was a long shot, I spoke with Dan and he said the CCTV system saved the images in the rain or something, remotely on the internet anyway. However, the thing he told me was the most people never bother to change the default password, so by using Hilary’s email address and a password of password, zero one I’m able to access the system and, with that last click I have just downloaded the last months’ worth of CCTV images to your laptop.” She clicked on a folder, within it there were a series of dated video files.
* * *
“Bishop”
“Sir…”
“Sit down. I wanted to see how you were coping?”
I looked up. The prison mental health nurse sat behind his desk, he didn’t look much older than me, but he would be able to go home at night to his wife and family, a luxury which was not going to be afforded to me for a long time.
“How am I coping? Well, honestly, life’s a bit shit. I’m in here for something I don’t think I did, but now I’m even doubting myself, nobody else believes I’m innocent. I have to wait for a trial which could take another year and then resign myself to spending the next twenty years inside, by which time, my pregnant wife would have had our child and they would have likely left home not having ever properly met their father. So, you tell me, as you are the expert. How should I be coping?”
“I understand…-”
“Do you? I seriously doubt you do. I don’t think you can even imagine what this is like. I’ve spent my life living and working outdoors. Now, I’m lucky if I can walk around the yard for half an hour. I see the papers; I see what they say about me. The ‘cruel killer’, how I thoughtlessly killed that girl. I could never have done that. But it seems from what my useless lawyer tells me the police have a rock-solid case. Damn it, there are even images of me walking to kill her. Now, did I blackout or have some sort of brainwave? Because I could never hurt someone but, it seems, by all accounts, I did.”
“Are you having any suicidal thoughts?”
“No sir.”
I looked down. I couldn’t hold his eye contact. I knew what he wanted to hear, but the thought of living my life in prison as a hated murderer, coming out to what? What would my world be like after all that time? I’d already hurt Kate and Amanda. I saw it in her eyes, she wanted to believe I was innocent, but there was doubt. She hardly knew me. Perhaps the easy way would be to end it. There were times at night when that thought gave me solace. Not having to face another day of the noise, the anger and the bullying. It was painfully like being back in care and I knew I couldn’t survive a lifetime of that.
* * *
I was feeling a bit lost with Mandy staying in Cumbria, it seemed like a world away. Not necessarily the distance, but with what was happening. I’d liked Adam, he was a great guy, but I couldn’t put my job behind me. I had far too many cases during my time when people you thought were great had done something terrible. Maybe being a copper had changed me, I couldn’t look at someone and see innocence without thinking about what they could be capable of. Here was a man who had attacked a girl in front of witnesses. I’d seen the pictures in the papers, whoever had leaked those to the press for a few quid had done his cause no favours. In the court of the tabloid press and public opinion, he was clearly guilty.
Never mind she might have hit her horse, that had been edited out of the story creating something salacious which would sell papers. I remember seeing the images on the front page. Adam bringing down the riding crop onto the girl and then images of him, pitchfork in hand walking to kill her. I wanted to remain positive, impartial, however, I could see why Yorkshire Constabulary felt they had a strong case, it was bang to rights. Probable cause, and a glut of evidence.
So, when Mandy begged me to support her.
