The victim, p.7
The Victim, page 7
Dave arrived at Rivers’ company within half an hour and was greeted by a man who introduced himself as Gerry Sutherland, Rivers’ deputy. The office was a modern, exclusive new build with high ceilings and bright lighting. Inside was all glass and chrome, quite dazzling and the soft furnishings were unexpectedly comfortable. The coffee was fresh and strong too; a hundred times better than the machine stuff they suffered at the station.
The large spacious area was divided by full-length glass partitions, one-third of the space sectioned off, though visible to the workforce, obviously for the managing director with a plush leather chair, noticeably empty and a large black glass desk more, Dave thought, for style than functionality. Adjacent to the entrance were two other doors, presumably a bathroom and storage and the remaining two-thirds of the floor space held desks for the four other people who worked with Rivers.
Sutherland was a somewhat geeky-looking man in his late twenties whose over-large glasses constantly slipped down his nose requiring correction every minute or so. Two other men were cloistered deep in conversation in a corner by the coffee machine. Only one woman was on the team and she was currently staring out of the window apparently oblivious to what was happening around her. Her body language suggested she did not wish to be approached.
Dave thought it sensible to speak first with the deputy, Gerry Sutherland who was bursting to relate the events of the previous day.
‘It was such a shock!’ Sutherland spoke quickly firing out words like bullets. ‘We knew nothing when we turned up for work yesterday. Bill’s always here first and unlocks the office, you see, so I knew something was wrong when he wasn’t here. Then we couldn’t reach him on his phone and eventually when I tried the landline, a police officer answered and told me it wasn’t possible to speak to either him or his wife. I then had to go home to fetch my set of keys which I rarely need with Bill here all the time. We muddled through waiting to hear from Bill and then we heard on the local radio that he was dead. We didn’t know what to do, still don’t really, but I suppose Mrs Rivers is in charge now.’ The deputy pushed his glasses back up his nose, paused for breath and swallowed hard.
‘I don’t think she’ll be of much assistance to you, Mr Sutherland. You’ll not be able to speak to her for a while and she can’t have any involvement in the business until our inquiries are complete,’ Dave told him. Sutherland’s jaw dropped and Dave could almost see the cogs of his mind whirring as he continued, ‘If you’re the deputy, perhaps you should take charge until things settle down. Do you have work to do; commitments to honour?’
‘Well, yes, but in the long term, what will happen then?’ Another push at the glasses.
‘I’m afraid I can’t advise you about that. Perhaps the company solicitor would be the one to consult.’
‘So was it an accident?’ Gerry looked puzzled.
‘We’re still investigating Mr Rivers’ death.’ Reluctant to say more, Dave moved on. ‘Could you tell me exactly what it is you do here?’
‘It’s all about online security. Bill built the company up from nothing by inventing and selling a great product. He is – sorry – he was constantly updating it to stay on top of the game.’ Gerry’s brief description was probably all Dave needed to hear; all this cyber stuff wasn’t really his bag.
‘And what role do you all have here; is this the full workforce?’ Dave gestured to where the other three workers were trying to look uninterested in their conversation. It seemed a small team for such a hugely successful business.
‘Yes, this is it. Larry is our hacker,’ Gerry pointed to a young man with red hair dressed in a bright red plaid shirt. Then in answer to Dave’s raised eyebrows he explained, ‘He’s the best and spends his time trying to hack into our systems. If he succeeds, Bill or I will modify the security to close up the loopholes he finds. I’m also the bookkeeper, and Mick and Pam work in sales and after-care to generate new markets and keep our regular customers happy. We also have several programmers who we outsource to when we need the extra help. They’re self-employed and take work on for us during our busy times.’
‘It’s a fairly small operation then?’ Dave asked, wondering how on earth something so small could generate such a massive income.
‘Comparatively, yes. I suppose it is, although our turnover’s considerable,’ Gerry answered proudly.
‘What was Mr Rivers like to work for, Mr Sutherland?’
‘Great. Bill was an easy-going kind of bloke and as long as things were running smoothly he was happy.’
‘Did you socialise together at all?’ Dave hoped to gain some insight into the man himself, his character and nature. So far Bill Rivers appeared to be a rather bland character and Dave liked to get a feel for the victim; to see them as a three-dimensional person rather than simply a body on the mortuary slab.
‘Not really. Bill was quite a private sort of man, quiet even, but very generous; good bonuses at Christmas and he paid for us all to go to a posh restaurant every quarter too, yet he didn’t join us.’
‘Did you ever meet his wife, Caron?’ This wasn’t what Dave expected from such a small team. He’d assumed they would go out for drinks together, celebrate new business, the usual sort of thing but it didn’t look as if that was the case.
‘No, never. Bill kept home and office life totally separate,’ Gerry replied.
‘What about competitors. Was there any close competition for business, any rivalry at all?’
‘In this market, competitors could be on the other side of the world. In reality many of them are. Bill was content to make our product the best he could and we ensured we updated our systems and offered the updates free of cost to our regular clients which in turn generates loyalty and recommendations. Bill was big on reputation. The customer really did come first with him so the competition was never much of an issue.’
Dave thanked Gerry for his help and moved on to speak to the other staff, gaining very little information from them, other than that Bill Rivers appeared to be the ideal boss and was undoubtedly well-liked. Before leaving, Dave told Gerry Sutherland the name of Rivers’ executor. It would be the solicitor’s unenviable task to decide what would happen to the business and with Caron as their chief suspect as well as the main beneficiary, things could get rather complicated.
14
Fiona Singleton was expecting Caron Rivers first thing that morning, a woman she struggled to understand and who appeared to give out mixed messages. It was still unclear to Fiona what this client truly felt about her marriage or what she wanted from her counsellor.
Caron was certainly candid about the violence inflicted on her by her husband and wanted Fiona to know every detail. Typically, as in many similar cases, she took the blame for her husband’s behaviour on her own shoulders, insisting she’d failed to do what he wanted, continually making excuses for him and in doing so demeaning herself.
By 9.30am and with no sign of Caron, Fiona left her office to ask at the reception desk if there’d been a call to cancel the appointment, although the receptionist usually relayed messages as soon as they were received. There was nothing for her. Laura, the practice manager, saw Fiona and waved her over.
‘Can you pop in to see Dr Choudhry, Fiona? He said it was urgent.’
Enda Choudhry’s door was partly open as she tapped gently on it and he was behind his desk with the morning paper in front of him. When Fiona entered, he spun the paper round so she could read the headlines.
‘Local businessman murdered!’
The picture below the caption was of a rather splendid, large detached house in an area of Leeds which Fiona didn’t recognise.
‘It’s William Rivers,’ he said.
Fiona gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth as she dropped down into the seat opposite Enda’s. He continued to explain.
‘The report says a twenty-four-year-old woman is helping the police with their enquiries.’ Enda’s expression was grave as his colleague took in the meaning of his words.
‘Surely… not Caron?’ It was unthinkable.
Enda nodded. ‘I didn’t think things were so bad, yet it looks as if she could have reached her breaking point.’ The doctor sighed and shook his head.
‘When did it happen?’ Fiona was frantically trying to remember Caron’s last visit and if she’d given any indication of reaching the end of her tolerance of Bill’s violence. Her mind was a haze. Could she have missed signs of her client being at breaking point?
‘Yesterday apparently; early morning although too late to make yesterday’s papers.’ Enda filled her in watching for a reaction.
‘Now I know why she hasn’t shown up for her appointment this morning. Does it mention her by name?’ Fiona peered at the paper.
‘No, but it sounds highly likely it’s her; the age is about right and they don’t mention any break-in or if they’re looking for anyone else. You’ve spent more time with her than I have, Fiona, does this surprise you?’
‘Yes, absolutely! We’ve only met three times and she’s not been the easiest client to get to know. Caron’s thoughts skip around and can be very disjointed. The abuse, however, is always central to her thinking and she certainly doesn’t hide it, making excuses for her husband and generally blaming herself. The incidents Caron’s shared indicate a degree of psychological abuse – isolation, withholding money, all the usual signs but she appeared to accept her situation and even believed it to be natural behaviour in a marriage. I sensed a degree of uneasiness yet in no way imagined she was so traumatised that she’d actually kill him. Heading for some sort of breakdown, yes, but not this. I’m shocked, Enda, I didn’t see this coming’
‘That just about sums up my thoughts on the situation too. It could be that the physical abuse went too far and Caron cracked. We’ll not know for certain until the police charge her or someone else. For the moment it’s still supposition, Fiona even though it seems likely it’s a domestic incident. We’ll keep it between ourselves for now.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Fiona took the newspaper and left Enda’s room in a daze, scarcely able to believe what had happened. Returning to her own office she studied the article in its entirety. The reporting was sketchy and didn’t offer much in the way of detail. The police hadn’t officially released the dead man’s name but neighbours readily speculated on the events they’d witnessed and told the press who lived in the house.
The photograph of the house itself was somewhat of a surprise too. Appleton Close wasn’t an address Fiona was familiar with and until then she hadn’t given much thought to her client’s material circumstances. Caron admitted she didn’t need to work and her husband had a good job and the photograph in the paper confirmed their wealth.
Fiona read the article a second time, picking up nothing new. The idea that the police may want to see her suddenly popped into her head. The confidentiality clause counsellors worked under was rarely tested in this way but if the police were looking at Caron as a suspect then Enda would most probably receive a request for her medical records which would include Fiona’s notes. Perhaps, Fiona decided, she was racing ahead of herself. Caron Rivers might not be the ‘woman’ who was helping the police but the reality and statistics of such incidents usually suggested the perpetrator was a family member.
Later in the afternoon, Fiona was still reeling from the day’s events when Laura, the practice manager, told her that a DI Jack Priestly was waiting to see her. Fiona’s immediate reaction was relief that Jack was on the case rather than any other police officer. The detective was known to her through his wife, Sarah, an old friend. The women first met when their children were at primary school together and still kept in touch, meeting for coffee whenever they could squeeze a mutually convenient time into their busy schedules. Although she didn’t know Jack quite so well, they’d met on a couple of occasions and Fiona found him to be an easy-going, pleasant man who possessed a gift for putting people at ease which must surely be an asset in his line of work.
Jack had spoken first with Enda Choudhry, catching him before he left for his rounds and then it was Fiona’s turn to be interviewed. Naturally anxious as to what he might ask and how much she could tell him without breaching Caron’s confidence, Fiona greeted Jack warmly. After only the briefest of catch-ups as to how life was for them both she offered coffee. After three cups herself that morning Fiona’s nerves were jangling; she was always threatening to change to decaf but one more would be welcome, even necessary, in the circumstances.
After handing Jack a steaming mug they settled into the easy chairs in Fiona’s room to have the kind of awkward conversation which might be everyday fodder for Jack yet was quite surreal for Fiona. Jack quickly dismissed her worries about confidentiality by showing her a signed consent form from Caron giving permission to view all notes from their sessions.
‘Mrs Rivers has admitted to stabbing her husband and for the moment it appears that’s exactly what happened. We’ve charged her with manslaughter.’ Jack paused noticing Fiona’s pained expression. ‘Sorry, Fiona, are you okay talking about this?’
‘Yes, of course; it’s just so hard to believe. It’s one thing seeing an account of violence in the newspapers but to hear it from you makes it so much more real. I can hardly believe that Caron, who sat in the very same seat you’re sitting in, could do such a thing. She’s such a slight, pale-looking girl.’
‘I know and I’m sorry. Look, it must be a shock for you when you’ve been working so closely with her so I’ll try to keep this as brief as possible. Caron was not only happy to give permission for us to speak to you and Dr Choudhry, but she also seemed quite keen for us to do so. The doctor has detailed her recent physical injuries, which of course, we’re aware of, so I wondered if you could shed more light on her state of mind?’
‘I’ll do my best but I’ve only actually seen her three times so our relationship is still a work in progress. I can give you a copy of the few notes I made after each of her visits, although I shouldn’t think they’ll be of much help. I keep note taking to a bare minimum.’
‘At this point, anything you can tell me will be helpful and I’d appreciate your opinion of Caron too. Do you think she was capable of stabbing her husband?’ Jack was in his stride and Fiona was taken aback at the direct line of questioning. She only knew Jack personally not professionally and it seemed in his role as a detective he wasn’t a man to pussyfoot around.
‘Wow, that’s a big question. Our sessions have certainly focused on Caron’s marriage and the considerable violence she suffered – about which she was quite candid. I think anyone who’s been treated in such an appalling way would have the propensity to kill if they felt in danger, cornered perhaps. Self-preservation’s a basic instinct for us all. However, if you’re asking whether she was capable of planning to kill him then I simply don’t know. Do you think she might have planned it, Jack?’
‘We’re not ruling anything out at the moment and it’s still early in the investigation. Did Caron talk about her life before she married Rivers or her relationship with her family?’
‘Very little. She claimed to have no contact with her mother and sister and I believe her father is dead. Her mother-in-law saw Bill quite frequently yet only occasionally visited their house so there was no close relationship there and I think the women disliked each other. Caron did tell me her father physically abused her, her sister and her mother but generally seemed reluctant to talk about her past, except to say she’d always vowed never to marry a man like her father. Sadly it seems she did. Caron also appears to have no friends. Apparently Bill didn’t like her socialising when he was at work and kept tight control of their finances too so she rarely had money to spend on herself.’
‘And do you think she was truthful about her situation?’
‘I begin at the point of belief with all my clients, Jack and there was no reason to doubt what she was telling me, the evidence was on her body.’ Fiona sighed; she didn’t envy Jack his job. Whereas her default position was acceptance that her clients were truthful, which in most cases they had no reason not to be, Jack questioned everything he was told and could believe nothing without evidence to back it up.
‘Is it true, Fiona, that girls who’ve lived in an abusive household often marry men who abuse them?’
‘Not always but yes, it’s a sad fact that many do.’ Fiona suddenly remembered seeing Caron in the city and decided to tell Jack. ‘There was perhaps one incident when I felt Caron wasn’t truthful with me although it was something trivial and probably quite irrelevant.’
‘What was it?’
‘Nothing significant; she told me she hadn’t been out of the house since our last meeting yet I was sure I’d seen her at the weekend with her husband in the city centre, although I could have been mistaken.’ Fiona experienced an awful feeling of betraying Caron by telling Jack this.
‘Right. So she wasn’t above telling a lie?’
‘I might have been mistaken and it could have been someone else entirely, or she may have forgotten that particular trip out. Please don’t read too much into it, Jack. During our talks she gave me the impression she stayed at home nearly all the time, concentrating on domestic chores to please Bill. That’s why I was surprised to see her out and also why I might be mistaken. And I’d never actually seen Bill so it could have been another couple entirely.’
Jack pulled a photograph from his jacket pocket and showed it to Fiona. ‘Is this the man you saw?’
