Danny paced the corridor outside the courtroom door. Nerves, like little electric shocks, flickered around her stomach walls.
Henry sat and watched her until he could stand it no longer. He pulled her into an empty witness waiting room. ‘Danny, you’re driving me up the wall!’
‘ Well, I won’t apologise for it. That bastard — those bastards — are going to be out on the streets again. I can feel it. I just know. And we’re powerless to do anything about it.’
‘ Danny, sit down… I said sit.’
Meekly, she obeyed.
Henry sat next to her and tenderly pushed a strand of her hair back from her forehead. ‘You’ve been through a tough time these last few days.’
‘ You don’t know the half of it,’ she snapped.
Henry was hurt by the remark, but kept a cool head. ‘No, I know I don’t. But you need to take a step back from this and get it into perspective. We have done everything and more that’s expected of us. We’ve put away Louis Trent for the rest of his life and we’re on track to sending those two bastards down the corridor behind him. Now, if we don’t succeed, then we’ll have to accept it, okay? Let’s just make sure we do everything right, to the book, and keep a professional head on — just like you told me the other day, remember?’
‘ The book! Those two swines should be shot!’
‘ Maybe so, but they won’t be and that’s life.’ He shrugged. ‘Now, Danny, you are a very caring person. I know it sounds trite and corny, but it’s also true. I want someone on my team like you, but I also want you to be more realistic in your approach. I do know some of the things you’ve been through over the last few days. They’ve been pretty horrific. I know I…’
‘ No, you don’t know. Don’t even try to know.’ Then Danny caught his wounded expression. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry, Henry.’
‘ It’s all right. All I’m saying, in a pathetic kind of way, is you’re going to have to deal with things one way or another. Try to work out what’ll be best for you. Might just be a chat with a friend, or me, or the Welfare Department, but whatever you do, Danny, deal with it. I speak from experience.’
She gave a wan smile and draped her arms around his neck, touching her forehead onto his, sighing deeply. ‘God, if only you weren’t married…’
‘ Danny, if I wasn’t married, I’d shag you here and now!’
They burst apart, laughing uproariously. ‘And I’d let you.’
The door opened and FB strutted in. ‘And just what the hell are you up to? They’ve been up and dealt with while you’ve been getting all touchy-feely.’
Danny stiffened.
‘ And?’ Henry’s voice was cautious.
FB dug his fist like he was punching some poor sucker in the solar plexus. ‘Stuck it up ‘em!’ he announced jubilantly. ‘Bail refused — three-day lie-down.’
Danny shot off her seat and danced around the room, madly waving her arms up and down, jigging on the spot. Then she astounded FB by throwing her arms round him and placing a big wet kiss on his cheek.
Henry stayed seated, a smirk of satisfaction on his face. Danny’s joy subsided when she pulled away from FB who wiped his cheek distastefully with his pristine clean hankie.
She exchanged a glance with Henry. ‘Now the work really begins.’
Chapter Twenty-one
Two days later there was nothing further the police could do. Having charged Gilbert and Spencer with Claire Lilton’s murder they were not, by law, allowed to question them any further about that matter.
All they had for Gilbert was the material found at his home, which in the grand scheme of things was pretty insignificant. He was questioned at length about the dead girl in East Lancashire, but denied all knowledge when faced with the paltry evidence against him.
Finding two naked runaways in Spencer’s flat meant there were many long conversations with him, but nothing more on the murder front and he denied sexually assaulting Grace.
Forty-eight hours, therefore, failed to produce anything worthwhile.
All the while, Danny and Henry had vague hopes that America might be the key, but nothing happened on that score. Henry phoned Karl Donaldson, who in turn phoned Myrna, who had no further information.
So, two tired detectives, having spent all those hours in each other’s pockets, came to realise they would have to put the defendants back before the court before the three days was up. There was no way they could justify keeping them in police custody any longer. They had to go back to court, hopefully to get the two defendants remanded in custody and then commit the case to Crown Court.
Which is what they did on Monday morning.
And the magistrates went along with them and denied bail.
Stanway was astounded by the decision and immediately stated his intention to appeal against the decision to a High Court Judge in chambers.
Meanwhile, Gilbert and Spencer were transferred, like common criminals, to Risley Remand Centre.
On the next day, Tuesday, at 10 a.m., Stanway appealed to a judge in chambers — a course of action which often resulted in the magistrates’ decision being overturned.
Lancaster Crown Court was in session, presided over by High Court Judge Constance Ellison. At the age of seventy-two she was as quick and nimble in both brain and body as a forty-year-old, and unlike most other judges her age, she was very much in touch with modern trends and thinking. She would never have to ask who Oasis or The Spice Girls were.
She had scheduled the appeal before the start of the day’s court proceedings and was waiting in her chambers, dressed in full regalia, looking absolutely splendid and very imposing. She sat behind a large, highly polished mahogany desk.
A court usher led in Stanway and his opposite number from the CPS.
‘ Good morning, gentlemen,’ she greeted them. ‘Please be seated. I may have the full kit on, as they say, but let’s not be too formal in here.’ She smiled a warm, pleasant smile.
They both sat, shuffling their papers nervously. Both knew she had a formidable reputation for chewing up and spitting out solicitors and lawyers.
Stanway began…
…And outside in the chilly corridor, Henry and Danny waited tensely for the result.
Half an hour dragged by as slowly as creeping death.
Neither spoke.
Danny sat there unmoving, consumed with her innermost thoughts. Henry, on contrast, fidgeted constantly. Standing up, sitting down, patrolling the corridor. Bored to death by doing nothing.
It was a relief for both when Henry’s pager vibrated against his pelvic bone, summoning him to make a phone call. He wandered away to find the nearest one. Danny was glad to see him go. He was getting on her nerves this time.
He had been gone less than two minutes when the door to the Judge’s chamber creaked open. The usher poked his head out. ‘DI Christie? DS Furness?’ he called enquiringly.
‘ I’m DS Furness.’ Danny stood up.
‘ Where is DI Christie?’
‘ Gone to make a phone call. Why?’
‘ The Judge wants to see you both.’
Over the last few days, since Tracey had disappeared, the operatives of Kruger Investigations had been
