‘Except what?’ Kim asked.
Suzie tipped her head and studied it for another minute. ‘The bed. It’s smaller than I remember it.’
‘This one looks bunk-bed size,’ Kim agreed.
‘It definitely wasn’t a bunk bed. I’d slept in one of those at a friend’s house. It was definitely bigger than that bed. My own at home was a normal single, and the bed was bigger than that.’
‘Suzie, is there anything else you remember?’ Kim asked, placing the phone between them.
She shook her head. ‘Nothing since you asked me a few days ago.’
‘Anything at all about the location?’ Kim pushed.
‘I’ve told you. I didn’t look around as I got into the van. I don’t remember any sounds or smells or anything. It was so long ago.’
‘You were asked at the time and you didn’t remember anything then,’ Kim said, trying to keep the accusation out of her voice.
Suzie met her gaze but said nothing.
Kim picked up the phone. Penn had shown her how to revert back to the live feed.
She turned the phone around. ‘Look again.’
‘I’ve already confirmed… Is that… Oh my… There’s a little girl in there.’
‘There is, Suzie, and do you see what she’s doing? She’s crying. She’s alone and frightened. She wants to be back—’
‘It’ll pass after a few days. She’ll be fine,’ Suzie said dismissively.
‘But that’s where she is right now. In the first few days, so you know exactly how she’s feeling, don’t you?’
‘Look, it doesn’t matter what you show me. If I can’t remember… wait a minute,’ she said as realisation dawned on her face. ‘How did you get this? Is this his mobile phone?’
Kim remained silent.
Suzie pushed her chair back. ‘Is he here? Can I speak to him?’
She stood as though she was about to go looking for him.
‘Where is he? Let me see him.’
‘For what reason?’ Kim asked, surprised at her reaction.
‘I’ve just always wanted to meet him, ask him some questions.’
‘I’m sorry but he’s being held in connection with a serious—’
‘Just two minutes, maybe five. That’s all I want.’ She paused. ‘And you never know if it’ll help to break something free,’ she said, tapping her head.
Kim weighed up her options as she moved the phone back from the centre of the table.
Steven Harte was not a plaything while under their remit. They couldn’t just foist upon him people that wanted to meet him. Even if he agreed to meet with Suzie, what exactly was he going to reveal?
It was an unorthodox request which she could see playing out badly in court.
Her only hope was that the meeting would indeed shake something free in Suzie’s memory, but if the image of a vulnerable child crying with fear and loneliness hadn’t nudged a memory free then nothing would.
For Kim there was a lot more to lose than gain.
‘I’m sorry, Suzie, but I don’t think that’s a very good idea.’
Kim was surprised to see the hardness that formed on her face on hearing the finality in her tone.
‘Have it your own way, Inspector, but I think it’s a decision you may live to regret.’
Seventy-Seven
It was almost twelve by the time Kim was given the all-clear to continue questioning Harte, and Suzie’s words were still ringing in her ears. She firmly believed that there would have been no benefit in orchestrating the meeting between the two of them, but something in Suzie’s tone had left an echo on her nerves. Woody had agreed, and after he’d reviewed the evidence and the CCTV with the CPS, both had been satisfied with the charges of kidnap and murder in relation to Lexi Walters.
‘So, Mr Harte, you’ve been charged with kidnapping and murdering Lexi Walters. Would you like to talk to us about your relationship with the little girl?’
Kim held her breath. Everything inside her said that he was ready, that she had passed every test and she would finally get the truth. But he’d had the chance for a good chat with his lawyer in the time since he’d admitted that he’d loved Lexi.
‘It wasn’t sexual,’ he said, opening his palms. ‘I didn’t view her that way at all. When I saw her I just wanted to look at her. She was beautiful, innocent, unspoiled. I never wanted to keep her. I wanted to just borrow a moment of her life, that particular moment.’
‘It wasn’t just a moment though, was it, Mr Harte?’
He shook his head. ‘No, I wanted to keep her for as long as I could.’
Kim had already decided on the direction of the interview. She wanted confirmation of identities before details of any other murders.
‘Mr Harte, you already know that we’ve found remains beneath the fountain at Wyley Court. Is there anything you’d like to tell me?’
She couldn’t question him directly about a crime for which he had not been arrested or charged, and without identities she couldn’t charge him anyway. She had to hope that she’d played the game he’d wanted, and he was now ready and willing to confess.
‘That is Paula Stiles.’
‘Steven,’ Swift warned. Until now she had been sitting in stony silence beside him.
He held up his hand to silence his solicitor.
‘I saw her at the wildlife park. It had been a year since Lexi had gone. I’d swore I wouldn’t do it again, but there she was. She looked so lonely, a shining, beautiful star glowing brighter than anything around her. I fought it but it was no use. I had to take her.’
Kim worked hard to control the rage she felt at his nonchalance at simply plucking people from their lives, as though everything was there for the taking. For him, for his benefit, for his entertainment, his enjoyment.
‘And Clent?’ she asked, although no remains had been found there yet.
‘Helen Blunt,’ he said as Swift sighed deeply. Kim was pretty sure she’d got more than she’d bargained for when she’d agreed to represent him.
‘It was that slap from her mother. I can still see it now. She bravely fought back the tears as her mother just walked away after hitting her. She was lost, alone, ignored and then left on her own. That mother didn’t deserve her.’
Kim ignored his justification. At times, it sounded as though he was the victim.
‘But you won’t find her exactly where you think you will.’
‘At the site of the old coffee shop where Butler was digging before the company was thrown off site?’ Kim clarified.
He shook his head. ‘About twenty metres east of that spot along the treeline was another hole. A rubbish hole.’
‘A what?’ she asked, feeling her heckles rise. ‘A bloody rubbish hole?’ Kim worked hard to push her rage back down, but the pictures going through her mind were tapping directly into the forced calm that she needed to conduct the interview.
‘A hole for rubbish. It can be hard to get a skip to some areas, so some builders dig a hole ready for crap that’s coming out of the main excavation like stone and tree roots. The soil can always be dispersed easier.’