Ash & Bone

5

The official inquiry into the shootings of William Grant and Paul Draper was opened within two weeks of the incidents taking place. The Police Complaints Authority, which routinely managed such matters, asked Detective Superintendent Trevor Ashley from the Hertfordshire Force to conduct the investigation, and as his number two, Ashley chose a newly promoted chief inspector, Linda Mills. Chalk and cheese. Ashley wore muted tweed jackets with leather patches on the arms and affected a voice that was slower and more up-country than his home, less than forty minutes' drive north from London, warranted. Mills had the lean and driven look of someone who began the day with a bracing shower and an energetic fifteen or twenty lengths in the pool.

Assisted by three other officers and two civilian clerks, Ashley and Mills were allocated a Portakabin in the car park as their base, together with a pair of interview rooms in the main building. One of the first officers called in for questioning was Maddy herself.

Taking his time, the superintendent took her through her written deposition, step by step, stage by stage, Mills watching her closely, not aggressively, occasionally making a neatly written note. Maddy wearing the same blue suit: weddings, interviews and funerals.

'Since making this statement…' Ashley said. 'When was it? The morning after the incident? You've had no further thoughts? There's nothing you'd like to add?'

'No, sir. I don't think so.'

'Sometimes, you know, on reflection…'

'Thank you, sir, but no.'

'Good, good.' With a glance towards his number two, Ashley settled back in his chair.

Linda Mills took her time. 'PC Draper and yourself, if I understand rightly, you were among the first officers to arrive at the entrance to Grant's flat?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'And this was by design?'

'I'm sorry, I…'

'Part of the plan outlined at the briefing that you and PC Draper…'

'No. Not exactly.'

'It was what, then? Accident? Chance?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'Which?'

Maddy hesitated. 'Chance, I suppose.'

The chief inspector glanced down at the papers in front of her. 'Not entirely.'

'I'm sorry, I don't quite…'

'According to your statement it was Superintendent Mallory who ordered you to move back down the stairs.'

'Yes. Yes, that's correct.'

Mills looked at her full on. 'Why, in your estimation, did he do that?'

Maddy took her time; her head was starting to buzz. 'I think he was concerned for our safety.'

'And that was the only reason?'

'I believe he wanted us to cover any possible escape.'

'Even though you were still unarmed?'

'There were armed officers on the stairs. Everywhere.'

'With orders to fire if necessary?'

'I assume so, yes.'

'And yet, in the event, it was Superintendent Mallory who did the actual firing.'

Maddy hesitated slightly, without knowing why. 'Yes, ma'am.'

'And the reason Superintendent Mallory discharged his weapon when he did?'

'As I've said in my report -'

'The reason was?'

'In my report, it's -'

'The reason, sergeant?'

'My colleague had already been shot. Grant had shot him.'

'And the superintendent knew this?'

'I assume so, yes.'

Mills sighed and sat back. Though it wasn't especially hot in the room, a slick line of sweat was making its way slowly down Maddy's back. Her hands were sticking to the sides of the chair. Superintendent Ashley slid one of the papers round at an angle. 'According to this diagram, the weapon Grant had used to shoot DC Draper was out of his reach here when Superintendent Mallory entered the room.'

'Yes. That's right. But he had another weapon.'

'Grant was carrying a second gun.'

'Yes.'

'That would be the Derringer.22?'

'Yes, sir.'

'And where was he carrying this back-up gun?'

Maddy faltered. 'I don't know. I mean, I'm not sure.'

'But you did see it? The second gun?'

Christ! Why was this so difficult? 'Not at first, no.'

'How do you explain that?'

'He was carrying it out of sight. Concealed.'

'But I thought he had just jumped out of bed naked,' Mills said, taking over. 'Next to naked.'

'He was wearing trousers.'

'Trousers?'

'Yes.'

'Just trousers?'

'Yes.'

'So where was the gun?'

Maddy could feel the sweat now beneath her arms. 'I don't know. In the waistband, possibly. At the back. In one of the pockets. I'm sorry, I just don't know.'

Mills and Ashley exchanged a look.

'So,' Ashley said, 'just to be clear, you did see Grant reaching for the second gun?'

'I saw him reaching down, yes.'

'Reaching down?'

'Yes.'

'Reaching for the Derringer?'

'I assume so, yes.'

'And you felt under threat?'

'Of course.'

'From Grant?'

'Yes.'

'Because you saw the weapon in his hand?'

'I'd just seen him shoot PC Draper. I thought he would kill me if he could.'

'So Superintendent Mallory's action was entirely justified? In your eyes?'

'Yes.'

'Even though,' Mills said, her voice sharper than before, 'you never saw the weapon in Grant's hand?'

'I saw it on the floor, beside him when he fell.'

'But not actually in his hand?'

Maddy hesitated, longer this time. 'No, ma'am, not actually in his hand.'

Linda Mills closed her eyes. Trevor Ashley smiled.

'Good,' Ashley said. 'That's all, I think, for now. Thank you, sergeant, for your time.'

Maddy felt slightly giddy as she stood.

'I should try and avoid discussing this with your colleagues,' Mills said. 'In all probability we will want to talk to you again.'

Back outside, Maddy could smell the perspiration rising off her in waves.

Maurice Repton intercepted her in the corridor downstairs, hair carefully, neatly brushed, giving off a faint smell of cologne.

'How did it go in there, anyway?' Repton asked. 'The interview. Rubber truncheons and thumbscrews?'

Maddy managed a smile. 'No, sir. Nothing like that.'

'Nothing tricky?'

'No, sir, not really.'

'No awkward questions? About the shooting?'

Maddy shook her head.

'Give you a tough time, did she?'

'Sir?'

'The Mills woman. Always come down hardest on their own kind.'

'Not too bad, sir.'

'She'll have Ashley's job while he still thinks pension is just a seven-letter word on Countdown, poor sod. Assistant Chief Constable in ten years. Equal opportunities advertisement, pictures in the press.' He took a small step back, sardonic grin in place. 'Shame she's not blessed with a touch of the tar-brush, be ACC already.'

When Maddy reached the main door, she stood fully five minutes, breathing in what air she could.