‘Is that your final decision?’ Alex asked.
Siviter appeared surprised at her curt tone but continued anyway. ‘I understand your disappointment but I have to do what I feel is in the best interest of—’
‘I think you might want to reconsider,’ Alex said, unwilling to listen to concerns of the interests of anyone other than herself.
‘Excuse me?’ she asked, narrowing her gaze.
‘For your own sake,’ Alex explained.
‘Are you threatening me?’
‘Absolutely not,’ Alex said, offering a half-smile. She was in control now. ‘I am merely forewarning you of what is about to happen next.’
Alex took a breath. ‘There is no doubt that you are a firm and fair warden. You are professional, objective and approachable. You have the respect of your team as well as the inmates. You’re here early and you leave late. You actually do care about the people in your prison, and I can understand why.’
Alex sighed heavily and forced sympathy into her eyes.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Every one of these ladies could be the child you gave away. They could even be the child you lost.’
The colour drained from her face.
Alex continued. ‘You put every ounce of love and affection into these prisoners as if they were your own—’
‘How did you find out…?’ Her words trailed away as she remembered one particular woman being held in her care.
‘Of course, if you’d been lucky enough to have your own children now you wouldn’t be so focused on the women under your care, but that’s no bad thing for these prisoners. I mean it when I say that your absence would be a huge loss to this prison.’
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she said as the sadness in her eyes grew hard.
‘Well, maybe not by choice. It’s been a very busy day here today. There was a serious assault and a suicide attempt. The guards did their best, but they were floundering, lacking direction, leadership, prioritisation from the person in charge. You weren’t here and things got missed. Decisions were delayed.’
‘My time off on Thursday is completely authorised. I wasn’t here because I was visiting my mother in residential care.’
‘There will be an enquiry, obviously, and your performance will be questioned – more so if Lisa dies.’
‘I was visiting my sick mother,’ Siviter spat.
‘Well, yes, you were at first.’ Alex paused. ‘Until 1.30ish and then you walked fifty metres down the road to the betting shop. You would have left at around half past two if you hadn’t received the emergency call. So let’s be clear: at two o’clock, when everything kicked off here, you were betting on horses and playing fruit machines. That’s a headline that’s going to—’
‘You can’t prove that,’ she said, reddening. Alex would swear the stain beneath her armpits was growing.
‘I don’t need to. I only have to contact a couple of reporters who will establish within half an hour of my call that there is CCTV from both inside the betting shop and across the road. You’ll be the juicy headline instead of the events that occurred. The bad press will be too much for your employers, and you will be forced to resign.’
Alex could see the rage filling Siviter’s eyes. That was good. That meant the woman felt trapped, that she’d been beaten.
Alex stood. ‘I look forward to your recommendation for my release.’
Eighty-Six
Kim took a breath before entering the room.
It was almost seven, and the last couple of hours had been hectic. Kate Swift had been returned to the station, re-cautioned by Jack and then placed in a cell awaiting her representation.
She was sticking to the story of having remembered where she’d been kept and returning to help free Grace and bring her to safety. When asked, Bryant had admitted that he hadn’t seen Swift’s hands around Grace’s throat before Kim had rushed her to the ground.
If Steven Harte stuck to his story, Kate Swift would walk free in less than twelve hours.
Kim entered and sat, saying nothing as Bryant took care of the formalities.
‘Mr Harte, you have agreed to speak with us without legal representation. Is that correct?’
‘I have nothing further to add to my previous confession.’
Kim met his gaze. There were no inflated folders, no cups of tea, no games.
‘The jig is up, Mr Harte. I mean, make no mistake, you’re never going to see free daylight again, but it won’t be for murder. Five charges of kidnap and imprisonment will keep you behind bars for the rest of your life.’
‘Five counts?’
‘Yes, five. We found Melody. And we also found Grace.’
He held her gaze but said nothing.
‘The farmhouse in Alvechurch is a lovely spot. But why did you take Grace in the first place? You knew what you were going to do. You knew you weren’t going to be able to watch her, so why did she have to suffer any of this?’
‘To get your attention. Had I come to you and admitted to the kidnap and murder of three girls, you would never have listened and you would have pegged me as a crackpot and sent me on my way. Even if I’d told you where they were buried, you still wouldn’t have gone and excavated the historic fountain on my say-so alone. There had to be the threat of a live, missing girl for you to believe my involvement.’
‘She could have died.’
‘Grace had enough food and water to last her for seven days. A cleaning company has been booked for 9 a.m. on Monday morning. They have a key. Grace was never going to die.’
‘Why not just tell us?’ Kim asked, trying to keep the incredulity from her tone.
He shrugged. ‘Where’s the fun in that?’
Kim bit her tongue. She had to remember that although not a killer, the man before her was a twisted, ruthless individual who had enjoyed playing games with them from day one.
‘We know you didn’t murder the girls, Mr Harte, but we’ll come to that in a minute. First, what made Melody different to the others?’
He regarded her silently.
‘Mr Harte, she is sitting in a cell down the hall, so feel free to be honest about the circumstances of her abduction. Was it the Hollytree connection?’
He hesitated and then nodded.
‘I opened the door to return her to the police station like the others, but she refused to leave. She closed the door. She carried on as though it had never opened. She didn’t want to return to that life, to that family, to that place, and I couldn’t blame her.’
He paused and met her gaze. ‘It’s hard for others to understand. I’ve been to many places but rarely have I seen anywhere as soulless as Hollytree. It is the place where everything goes to die. It’s like a landfill site for hopes and dreams, kindness and conscience. Everywhere you look there’s filth, despair and ugliness. It kills your hope that there’s anything better. And you know exactly what I’m talking about.’
‘Is that why you came to me?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘I saw you on the telly a couple of years back when your past was being targeted. I was surprised when I learned of the Hollytree connection. No, not surprised – I was impressed. For some reason I was proud that you’d done okay for yourself. It made me smile and it stuck with me. You were the obvious choice.’