The whole sorry tale had left her with a deep hatred of drug dealers and especially meth.
‘You do know what she sells?’ Noelle asked, stepping further into the room.
‘Oh, Noelle, if I was to stop speaking to everyone in here who had done something foul, I’d never open my mouth again. We’re in prison, after all. There are few paragons of virtue gracing these halls.’
‘She kills kids.’
Alex sighed heavily. ‘I understand that she cares nothing for the end user of her product, and no one wants to see children getting hurt, but I didn’t voluntarily just strike up conversation with her. It’s not like I want to be best friends with her.’
‘So what did she want?’ Noelle asked, taking a step closer.
Alex remained seated. She wasn’t intimidated. Noelle was not a naturally violent person. Her frenzy during the murder had been driven by rage and grief.
Alex lowered her eyelids. ‘She just wanted my help with something.’
‘What could you possibly help her with?’
Alex remained silent for a minute to see if she would be able to make the leap herself.
Noelle waited.
Alex reached into her pocket and showed Noelle the top of the phone.
The woman’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘You’ve got a decent phone and you’re gonna let that lowlife use it?’
‘She has muscle,’ Alex said, even though Titch would never touch her.
She forced fear onto her face. ‘I can’t say any more. If Titch finds out I’ve said anything…’
‘But when and how is she getting the phone?’
‘I can’t say any more or…’
‘Hang on. Don’t you work alone in the library on a Thursday afternoon?’
Alex shifted her eyes to the door and back again. Just enough times for Noelle to think she’d worked it out all on her own. She bit her bottom lip for added effect.
‘Okay, enough said,’ Noelle offered with a smile on her face before she turned and walked out of the cell.
The smile wasn’t as big as the one on Alex’s face once she’d left. So far that was two for two and, right now, there was not one drop of blood on her very clean hands.
Sixty-Five
Harte and his lawyer were sitting side by side in silence. Kate Swift was busy scribbling on a notepad. Whether she was writing notes about Harte’s case or a shopping list for a trip to Sainsbury’s, Kim had no idea.
‘Thank you for joining us, Inspector,’ Harte said.
‘You’ve very welcome. We have been a little busy sightseeing some local beauty spots, but we’ll come to that later. I’ll hand over to Bryant for the formalities.’
She opened the folder she’d been carrying. It had been bolstered with plain sheets of paper to make it appear they had more information than they did.
‘Thick folder you have there,’ Harte commented with an amused glint in his eye, once Bryant was done.
‘It’s building, Mr Harte, it’s building.’
She stopped at the page that had her notes and then leaned across them. Harte had controlled enough of this process.
‘Mr Harte, did you know that Jenson Butler was a sex offender?’
He appeared unperturbed by the question.
‘My client doesn’t have to answer that,’ Swift offered.
Kim waited to see if he would interject. He didn’t.
‘Did Mr Butler solicit your advice way back at university about a situation he found himself in?’
‘My client doesn’t have to answer that.’
Kim kept her gaze on Harte. ‘Did Jenson Butler admit to you that he’d slept with a thirteen-year-old girl?’
‘My client doesn’t have to—’
‘I know that, Ms Swift, but I do have a question that I really would like him to answer.’
‘Go ahead,’ Harte said.
‘Why have you suddenly lost your voice since your solicitor arrived?’
‘Is that a serious question, Inspector?’ he asked.
‘Actually, yes, Mr Harte. You came to us claiming to have all kinds of information, yet you’ve told us nothing, and now you don’t seem able to answer the most basic question posed to you.’
‘Do you have one, Inspector – a question that is?’ asked Kate Swift.
‘I do, Ms Swift. I’d like to know why Mr Harte did and continued to do business with a convicted sex offender.’
Swift deferred to her client.
‘I feel that everyone deserves a second chance,’ he answered.
‘How can you know it was some kind of mistake and not a pattern of behaviour?’
‘I don’t delve into the personal lives of my associates to that degree.’
‘We’re not talking about their favourite takeaway or what football team they support. We’re talking about whether they have sex with underage girls. Minors – children really.’
‘It’s my understanding that Mr Butler has no further convictions for any type of crime, which would lead me to believe it was a mistake.’
Kim wasn’t buying it. ‘Mr Harte, if you are to be believed that you admire and protect all things beautiful, how can you even tolerate the thought of doing business with a man who was convicted of—’
‘In the absence of a question my client can answer, I suggest we move on to—’
‘Mr Harte, did you abduct, kill and bury Lexi Walters at Hawne Park in Halesowen?’
‘No comment,’ he shot back.
‘Okay,’ Kim said, changing tack. Clearly, he was not going to answer any direct questions. ‘You recall a great deal about the cases of missing girls. Do you remember reading about a six-year-old girl named Lexi Walters?’
‘You’ve arrested me for her murder, so I’m assuming you feel I have some kind of connection to her?’
‘Please answer the question. Do you remember reading anything about her?’
‘I think something rings a bell. Pretty little thing if I remember correctly.’
Kim detected stiffening from his solicitor. She obviously disagreed with this line of questioning, but it had worked for her so far. Her perception was that his memory of the incident was his way of cryptically telling her that he was involved. So far he hadn’t slipped up and given her anything she could charge him with, but while he was talking, there was hope. Direct questions were not going to trip him up.
Ms Swift appeared to be fearful of him talking at all.
‘Please tell me what you remember about little Lexi.’
‘If I remember correctly, little Lexi, as you call her, was removed from the care of her neglectful parent during the school summer holidays over twenty years ago.’
‘Abducted,’ Kim corrected. Steven Harte didn’t seem to like the correct wording being used. Especially when it indicated the commission of a crime.
‘Or liberated, some might say.’
‘Liberated means freedom, Mr Harte. I’m not sure being taken by force and from her home and family to be imprisoned in a single room against her will could be called liberating by any stretch of the imagination.’ Kim paused. ‘You think she was kidnapped because her mother spent a little time taking a work call?’